AI and the Human Factor

Earlier this month, I went to the Melbourne premiere of “Eno”, a documentary by Gary Hustwit, which is described as the world’s first generative feature film. Each time the film is shown, the choice and sequencing of scenes is different – no two versions are ever the same. Some content may never be screened at all.

I’ll leave readers to explore the director’s rationale for this approach (and the implications for film-making, cinema and streaming). But during a Q&A following the screening, Hustwit was at pains to explain that this is NOT a film generated by AI. He was also guarded and refrained from revealing too much about the proprietary software and hardware system he co-developed to compile and present the film.

However, the director did want to stress that he didn’t simply tell an AI bot to scour the internet, scrape any content by, about or featuring Brian Eno, and then assemble it into a compilation of clips. This documentary is presented according to a series of rules-based algorithms, and is a content-led venture curated by its creator. Yes, he had to review hours and hours of archive footage from which to draw key themes, but he also had to shoot new interview footage of Eno, that would help to frame the context and support the narrative, while avoiding a banal biopic or series of talking heads. The result is a skillful balance between linear story telling, intriguing juxtaposition, traditional interviews, critical analysis, and deep exploration of the subject. The point is, for all its powerful capabilities, AI could not have created this film. It needed to start with human elements: innate curiosity on the part of the director; intelligent and empathetic interaction between film maker and subject; and expert judgement in editing the content – as a well as an element of risk-taking in allowing the algorithm to make the final choices when it comes to each screened version.

That the subject of this documentary is Eno should not be surprising, either. He has a reputation for being a modern polymath, interested in science and technology as well as art. His use of Oblique Strategies in his creative work, his fascination with systems, his development of generative music, and his adoption of technology all point to someone who resists categorisation, and for whom work is play (and vice versa). In fact, imagination and play are the two key activities that define what it is to be human, as Eno explored in an essay for the BBC a few years ago. Again, AI does not yet have the power of imagination (and probably has no sense of play).

Sure, AI can conjure up all sorts of text, images, video, sound, music and other outputs. But in truth, it can only regurgitate what it has been trained on, even when extrapolating from data with which it has been supplied, and the human prompts it is given. This process of creation is more akin to plagiarism – taking source materials created by other people, blending and configuring them into some sort of “new” artefact, and passing the results off as the AI’s own work.

Plagiarism is neither new, nor is it exclusive to AI, of course. In fact, it’s a very natural human response to our environment: we all copy and transform images and sounds around us, as a form of tribute, hommage, mimicry, creative engagement, pastiche, parody, satire, criticism, acknowledgement or denouncement. Leaving aside issues of attribution, permitted use, fair comment, IP rights, (mis)appropriation and deep fakes, some would argue that it is inevitable (and even a duty) for artists and creatives to “steal” ideas from their sources of inspiration. Notably, Robert Shore in his book about “originality”. The music industry is especially adept at all forms of “copying” – sampling, interpolation, remixes, mash-ups, cover versions – something that AI has been capable of for many years. See for example this (limited) app from Google released a few years ago. Whether the results could be regarded as the works of J.S.Bach or the creation of Google’s algorithm trained on Bach’s music would be a question for Bach scholars, musicologists, IP lawyers and software analysts.

Finally, for the last word on AI and the human condition, I refer you to the closing scene from John Carpenter’s cult SciFi film, “Dark Star”, where an “intelligent” bomb outsmarts its human interlocutor. Enjoy!

Next week: AI hallucinations and the law

 

 

Whose side is AI on?

At the risk of coming across as some sort of Luddite, recent commentary on Artificial Intelligence suggests that it is only natural to have concerns and misgivings about its rapid development and widespread deployment. Of course, at its heart, it’s just another technology at our disposal – but by its very definition, generative AI is not passive, and is likely to impact all areas of our life, whether we invite it in or not.

Over the next few weeks, I will be discussing some non-technical themes relating to AI – creativity and AI, legal implications of AI, and form over substance when it comes to AI itself.

To start with, these are a few of the questions that I have been mulling over:

– Is AI working for us, as a tool that we control and manage?  Or is AI working with us, in a partnership of equals? Or, more likely, is AI working against us, in the sense that it is happening to us, whether we like it or not, let alone whether we are actually aware of it?

– Is AI being wielded by a bunch of tech bros, who feed it with all their own prejudices, unconscious bias and cognitive limitations?

– Who decides what the Large Language Models (LLMs) that power AI are trained on?

– How does AI get permission to create derived content from our own Intellectual Property? Even if our content is on the web, being “publicly available” is not the same as “in the public domain”

– Who is responsible for what AI publishes, and are AI agents accountable for their actions? In the event of false, incorrect, misleading or inappropriate content created by AI, how do we get to clarify the record, or seek a right of reply?

– Why are AI tools adding increased caveats? (“This is not financial advice, this is not to be relied on in a court of law, this is only based on information available as at a certain point in time, this is not a recommendation, etc.”) And is this only going to increase, as in the recent example of changes to Google’s AI-generated search results? (But really, do we need to be told that eating rocks or adding glue to pizza are bad ideas?)

– From my own experience, tools like Chat GPT return “deliberate” factual errors. Why? Is it to keep us on our toes (“Gotcha!”)? Is it to use our responses (or lack thereof) to train the model to be more accurate? Is it to underline the caveat emptor principle (“What, you relied on Otter to write your college essay? What were you thinking?”). Or is it to counter plagiarism (“You could only have got that false information from our AI engine”). If you think the latter is far-fetched, I refer you to the notion of “trap streets” in maps and directories.

– Should AI tools contain better attribution (sources and acknowledgments) in their results? Should they disclose the list of “ingredients” used (like food labelling?) Should they provide verifiable citations for their references? (It’s an idea that is gaining some attention.)

– Finally, the increased use of cloud-based services and crowd-sourced content (not just in AI tools) means that there is the potential for overreach when it comes to end user licensing agreements by ChatGPT, Otter, Adobe Firefly, Gemini, Midjourney etc. Only recently, Adobe had to clarify latest changes to their service agreement, in response to some social media criticism.

Next week: AI and the Human Factor

Perfect Days – and the Analogue Life

Last week I watched “Perfect Days”, Wim Wenders’ lyrical film about a gentle soul who diligently goes about his daily labour accompanied by a soundtrack of classic songs. Most of the featured music is 50-60 years old, and all of it heard via cassette tapes – no radio stations or internet streaming services were harmed in the making of this film!

Not only does our hero cling to cassettes, we never see him use the internet, e-mail or a smart phone. We don’t even know how he accesses his money – presumably he gets a weekly wage packet containing cash, so no need to visit an ATM or pay with a credit card. To cap it all, he doesn’t own a TV, and his hobbies include reading second hand paperback books, taking photos with a 35mm film camera, and cultivating plants from cuttings he finds in the course of his daily routine.

We don’t really need to know his backstory, although we get the occasional glimpse. What we are presented with is someone who is living an outwardly simple life, almost exclusively analogue, and with very little technology involved. (In fact, the public toilets he cleans for a living are far more hi-tech than anything in his personal world.) I suspect for many people, our empathy for the character’s disposition may easily become envy at how stripped down and uncluttered a life he leads. The fact that he doesn’t appear to have any family or other obligations (and doesn’t have to spend hours in pointless team meetings or on endless Zoom call) no doubt help facilitate this state of being – yet we suspect there is a lot going on in the inside.

But it is certainly a parable in favour of all things analogue.

In fact, as I write this I am listening to a recent album by Tarotplane on a cassette player. He is one of many contemporary musicians who choose to release their work in this format, and along with the recent vinyl revival, they are helping to keep analogue alive. It’s a trend we can see in events like Record Store Day (and it’s younger sibling, Cassette Store Day), books by Damon Krukowski and Robert Hassan, and symbolic vinyl moments in recent film and TV shows such as “Leave the World Behind” and “Ripley”. In the former, the absence of internet and streaming brings a turntable into play; in the latter, a clutch of 7″ records (in picture sleeves!) are among the few possessions the eponymous hero chooses to take with him. Elsewhere, Lomography continues to find new fans of film photography, and on a recent visit to Hong Kong, I was surprised at the huge display of Polaroid cameras and film at Log-On department store.

Not all this fascination with analogue is about nostalgia, fashion, or fadism (or even fetishism). In some quarters, people are becoming concerned that their favourite films, TV programmes, music and video games may disappear from hosting services and streaming platforms, or their cloud storage may get wiped. So they are keeping analogue versions and hard copies as a back-up.

Finally, and picking up a thread from “Perfect Days” itself, I’m not entirely convinced that a 1975 Patti Smith cassette is worth $100, but I do own an original copy of a very rare cassette that has sold for as much as $180… probably because it has never been reissued, is not available to stream or download, and is a great example of early, DIY electronic music made on basic synths in the early 1980s. You couldn’t imagine an mp3 ever commanding that sort of price, unless it was in the form of an NFT, of course.

Next week: False Economies – if it’s cheap, there must be a reason!

Defunct apps and tech projects

In the early days of this blog, I featured many new tech projects and start-ups that I came across by attending pitch nights and meet-ups in Melbourne. I also signed up to beta test numerous apps, and I contributed to quite a few crowd-funding exercises. In doing some research for a recent blog on music streaming, I realised that many of these ventures are no longer with us.

Here’s a random selection of projects and products that I either used, subscribed to, funded, or covered in my blog:

1. Klout – launched in 2008, this app used data from social media profiles to create individual “Klout Scores”, designed to calculate how “influential” your content was. Nice idea, but there was probably no money in the business model, because as far as I can recall, it was a free service. It was purchased in 2014 for $200m by the company that eventually became Khoros, who then closed Klout in 2018, as it was not seen as core business. Khoros itself is a customer engagement, social media and content management solution for corporate clients and consumer brands – obviously, there is more money to be made from capitalising on customer behaviour…

2. Do.com – founded in 2014 as a productivity tool, focused on making meetings more efficient. Acquired by Amazon Web Services (amount undisclosed) and folded into its Chime web-meeting and conferencing application. From my personal experience, the only company using Chime for external-facing calls is Amazon itself, but perhaps it’s more of a white label solution, or it’s mainly used by internal teams to communicate among themselves (especially if these teams are using AWS?).

3. Paper.li – launched in 2010, and grew to 2 million users within 6 months, this was a neat product that enabled users to curate their own “newspapers” from Twitter and other online content. Closed in April 2023 – probably too much noise and competition in this space, and too hard to monetise?

4. Pandora – one of the earliest internet radio and music streaming services, Pandora launched in 2000 – and as recently as 2019, had a market valuation of US$3.5bn, based on a stock acquisition by SiriusXM. But by 2017, Pandora had already decided to exit the Australian market, so I have no idea about the current content or service quality.

5. Twitter Music – as featured in my previous blog, this “service” was launched in 2013, and closed within a year. But watch this space – since re-branding his new toy as “X”, not only has Elon Musk taken back the @X handle from a Twitter user, he’s also just claimed @Music from another customer.

6. 8tracks – another early-ish player in the internet radio and music streaming service (launched in 2008), 8tracks is primarily a social media app that allows users to share their favourite playlists. Despite industry accolades, and various integrations with Android, Windows and Soundcloud, 8tracks ran into problems, including a copyright and licensing issue which meant it could no longer stream music outside of the US and Canada (instead, having to rely on content from YouTube). In 2019, the company announced it was shutting down. Then, in early 2020, the brand was relaunched under new ownership, but is only available in the USA.

7. Sensel Morph – this tech business began life as a Kickstarter project in 2015. The product was a touch-sensitive computer interface that allowed users to run various applications, such as graphic design, video editing, gaming, digital audio workstations, MIDI devices and coding (e.g., for Arduino and Raspberry Pi). Despite a successful funding campaign, the Morph devices did not start delivering until 2017 – and some of the promised features never appeared, or were scaled back (or support was dropped soon after development). In early 2022, Sensel announced it was discontinuing support for Morph – instead, the company is focused on providing touch-sensitive and pressure pad technology to third party developers and OEMs. I can’t help feeling that the Kickstarter campaign was really a way for Sensel to fund its early R&D (especially given the 2-year time line to deliver the first physical devices).

8. Swatchmate – a Melbourne-based startup, this optical device for scanning colours, surfaces and patterns had a big future when it launched in 2011. Aimed at designers, illustrators, printers, textile manufacturers and paint companies, initially, there appeared to be significant interest from major brands. Yet, within a few years, and following a name-change to Palette, the product (and the company behind it) have disappeared – although the device can in theory be ordered online. I suspect that as mobile phones’ own optical quality has improved (along with AI-trained apps to handle colour-matching), the standalone Swatchmate cube was doomed to failure.

9. Broadcastr – this was an interesting angle on audio content creation and curation. It was designed to bring location-based stories, travelogues and events to remote audiences and visitors via streaming. It only ran for 2 years (2011-13), and simply ran out of money, in the face of Soundcloud and the emerging podcast industry.

10. iTunes Ping – a cross between a social media platform and a playlist sharing app, this was Apple’s attempt to help fans discover/recommend new music, and for artists to engage with their fans. Launched in 2010, it survived for 2 years, before Apple decided to integrate iTunes within Facebook and Twitter…

11. MySpace – despite reaching its 20th birthday earlier this month, and after much hype and a one-time over-inflated price tag, MySpace has failed to deliver on so many counts. It’s a wonder how it has survived, although I’m not sure how “active” this former darling of social media actually is. Scrolling through it’s clunky UI, it’s easy to get the impression MySpace is nothing more than a digital scrapbook of a by-gone era, forever preserved in virtual aspic (and slowly decaying for lack of attention or maintenance). Nothing works on this platform, so it was interesting to see a recent fan message on Justin Timberlake’s page: “1.Get off TikTok. 2.Fix MySpace. 3.Launch App.”

12. Friends Reunited – finally, the OG of SoMe, which launched in 2000 (4 years before Facebook, 6 years before Twitter, 3 years before LinkedIn, 10 years before Instagram…). Designed to help people re-connect with their schoolmates, work colleagues, college friends and other community groups, it was actually more of a research resource, and ended up like a huge directory of your past associations. Gave up the ghost in 2016, just as TikTok was unleashed on the world (although I’m sure that was purely a coincidence).

Next week: Ballarat International Foto Biennale (BIFB)