The cost of AI

A variant on Moore’s law is the observation that the financial capital required to launch a new business decreases exponentially as technology gets cheaper.

Pre-internet, and using a notional geometric scale for the purposes of illustration, you might have needed $5m to found and build a new venture. The World Wide Web probably reduced that to $500k, while cloud computing brought it down to $50k. With the expansion of SaaS and API solutions, that cost might have been $5k to get going. Now, vibe coding and $500 of AI prompts can probably launch a new website, build a back end database, implement an e-commerce solution and deploy agentic AI bots to go and find your first customers.

This is a great outcome if measured by a lower barrier to market entry. It also enables founders to “fail fast, fail cheap”, and incentivises innovation by financially de-risking the process.

But even though the cost of AI tools is extraordinarily cheap in terms of the computing and processing power they deliver, there is a huge cost to our rapid adoption of AI that needs to be accounted for.

First, we are seeing corporate lay-offs among tech firms and parts of the service industry that no longer need as many human bodies and minds to operate at scale. So there is a human, economic and societal cost of increased un(der)employment.

Second, traditional skills and expertise are being hugely reduced in perceived value – why pay a graphic artist to design an image when I can use dall-e for free?

Third, as more and more creative tasks are being outsourced or delegated to AI (“create a short story about an F1 race in the style of Ernest Hemingway”) we risk losing our own innate creativity (that comes with experimentation, curiosity, play and reflection). This in turn devalues the creative process itself (thanks to cheaper, AI-enabled production).

Fourth, AI (and the Large Language Models on which it is trained) has no great respect for intellectual property. It doesn’t recognise boundaries between copyright material, content that is subject to creative commons, content that is in the public domain, and content which is publicly available. Again, if copyright owners and original content creators are not recognised or compensated for their work, why would anyone aspire to creating anything original?

Finally, there is the cost of resources (energy, water, rare earth metals) needed to maintain huge AI processing plants and data centres. (But at least this demand is accelerating the development of renewable energy.)

A few years ago, I posted a blog about the importance of the human factor, in the face of technological progress brought by automation and AI. I still remain cautiously optimistic that AI will bring huge benefits, despite the rampant growth of AI in the three years since I wrote that piece. But we are currently in an awkward and comfortable transition phase. If more jobs are lost to AI, and if human-led output is increasingly devalued, perhaps we will need to revisit the debate about Universal Basic Income and other policies to facilitate this transition.

Next week: Music, music everywhere…. and none of it very memorable 

More on AI Hallucinations…

The mainstream adoption of AI continues to reveal the precarious balance between the benefits and the pitfalls.

Yes, AI tools can reduce the time it takes to research information, to draft documents and to complete repetitive tasks.

But, AI is not so good at navigating subtle nuances, interpreting specific context or understanding satire or irony. In short, AI cannot “read the room” based on a few prompts and a collection of databases.

And then there is the issue of copyright licensing and other IP rights associated with the original content that large language models are trained on.

One of the biggest challenges to AI’s credibility is the frequent generation of “hallucinations” – false or misleading results that can populate even the most benign of search queries. I have commented previously on whether these errors are deliberate mistakes, an attempt at risk limitation (disclaimers), or a way of training AI tools on human users. (“Spot the deliberate mistake!) Or a get-out clause if we are stupid enough to rely on a dodgy AI summary!

With the proliferation of AI-generated results (“overviews”) in basic search queries, there is a tendency for AI tools to conflate or synthesize multiple sources and perspectives into a single “true” definition – often without authority or verified citations.

A recent example was a senior criminal barrister in Australia who submitted fake case citations and imaginary speeches in support of a client’s case.

Leaving aside the blatant dereliction of professional standards and the lapse in duty of care towards a client, this example of AI hallucinations within the context of legal proceedings is remarkable on a number of levels.

First, legal documents (statutes, law reports, secondary legislation, precedents, pleadings, contracts, witness statements, court transcripts, etc.) are highly structured and very specific as to their formal citations. (Having obtained an LLB degree, served as a paralegal for 5 years, and worked in legal publishing for more than 10 years, I am very aware of the risks of an incorrect citation or use of an inappropriate decision in support of a legal argument!!!)

Second, the legal profession has traditionally been at the forefront in the adoption and implementation of new technology. Whether this is the early use of on-line searches for case reports, database creation for managing document precedents, the use of practice and case management software, and the development of decision-trees to evaluate the potential success of client pleadings, lawyers have been at the vanguard of these innovations.

Third, a simple document review process (akin to a spell-check) should have exposed the erroneous case citations. The failure to do so reveals a level laziness or disregard that in another profession (e.g., medical, electrical, engineering) could give rise to a claim for negligence. (There are several established resources in this field, so this apparent omission or oversight is frankly embarrassing: https://libraryguides.griffith.edu.au/Law/case-citators, https://guides.sl.nsw.gov.au/case_law/case-citators, https://deakin.libguides.com/case-law/case-citators)

In short, as we continue to rely on AI tools, unless we apply due diligence to these applications or remain vigilant to their fallibility, we use them at our peril.

 

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

“The Digital Director”

Last year, the Australian Institute of Company Directors (AICD) ran a series of 10 webinars under the umbrella of “The Digital Director”. Despite the title, there was very little exploration of “digital” technology itself, but a great deal of discussion on how to manage IT within the traditional corporate structure – as between the board of directors, the management, and the workforce.

There was a great deal of debate on things like “digital mindset”, “digital adaption and adoption”, and “digital innovation and evolution”. During one webinar, the audience were encouraged to avoid using the term “digital transformation” (instead, think “digital economy”) – yet 2 of the 10 sessions had “digital transformation” in the title.

Specific technical topics were mainly confined to AI, data privacy, data governance and cyber security. It was acknowledged that while corporate Australia has widely adopted SaaS solutions, it lacks depth in digital skills; and the percentage of the ASX market capitalisation attributable to IP assets shows we are “30 years behind the USA”. There was specific mention of blockchain technology, but the two examples given are already obsolete (the ASX’s abandoned project to replace the CHESS system, and CBA’s indefinitely deferred roll-out of crypto assets on their mobile banking app).

Often, the discussion was more about change management, and dealing with the demands of “modern work” from a workforce whose expectations have changed greatly in recent years, thanks to the pandemic, remote working, and access to new technology. Yet, these are themes that have been with us ever since the first office productivity tools, the arrival of the internet, and the proliferation of mobile devices that blur the boundary between “work” and “personal”.

The series missed an opportunity to explore the impact of new technology on boards themselves, especially their decision-making processes. We have seen how the ICO (initial coin offering) phase of cryptocurrency markets in 2017-19 presented a wholly new dimension to the funding of start-up ventures; and how blockchain technology and smart contracts heralded a new form of corporate entity, the DAO (decentralised autonomous organisation).

Together, these innovations mean the formation and governance of companies will no longer rely on the traditional structure of shareholders, directors and executives – and as a consequence, board decision-making will also take a different format. Imagine being able to use AI tools to support strategic planning, or proof-of-stake to vote on board resolutions, and consensus mechanisms to determine AGMs.

As of now, “Digital Directors” need to understand how these emerging technologies will disrupt the boardroom itself, as well as the very corporate structures and governance frameworks that have been in place for over 400 years.

Next week: Back in the USA