Old School Ties

Last month I visited my old high school to attend the annual reunion. This was the first time I’d been to a formal alumni event, only 46 years after I left.

That’s not to say I haven’t kept in contact with my school mates, despite living on the other side of the world. Among the Class of ’79 who had turned up, I’d seen all but one of them in the past couple of years, and I try to catch up with this group each time I go back to the UK.

Despite the passing years, I was surprised by how much the old place felt so familiar – I guess having more than 450 years of history behind it means that tradition runs deep.

At the same time, it also felt quite alien – I realise that although I am originally from the local area, I feel less and less of it. Nevertheless, I was reassured that however much things may change, my immediate circle of school friends endures.

Why should that be so? Yes, “old school ties” can form the basis of life-long relationships, linked to a specific educational institute; and those ties can be both tangible and metaphorical. But more importantly, these connections are built on a mix of broad common values, our shared experiences, and the age we met.

 

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.

 

Cultural References

Most days I like to try and solve a cryptic crossword. It’s a hobby I picked up from my dad, when I was in my early teens. He probably regretted introducing me to this particular pastime, as we used to compete for the newspaper…

I think I have persisted with this hobby because I have an innate interest in word-play, and solving puzzles helps to maintain my cognitive agility.

Apart from having a large vocabulary and an understanding of the rudiments of solving different types of cryptic clues, it also helps to have wide general knowledge. In my own case, this is underpinned by having received a “classic education” – that blend of critical thinking, an inquisitive approach to learning, and a mix of the liberal arts, formal science and a hint of classics.

Cryptic clues frequently involve specific and oblique references to weights and measures, chess, bridge, languages, history, geography, the arts, literature, politics, current affairs, religion, sport, law, technology, entertainment and the sciences. Puzzle setters also rely on lexical techniques such as abbreviations, palindromes, homophones, anagrams, synonyms, antonyms and phonetics to construct their clues.

Many times, I find I just “know” the answer because some word association triggers mental recall. Often, though, clues are solved by a process of deduction and logic to parse the cryptic component to align with the factual meaning or definition.

I am increasingly challenged by references to current popular culture. Sometimes, I can deduct the reference to the name of a chart-topping singer or title of a Hollywood movie franchise – and not from hearing the music or watching the film.

It does make me think about what defines “general knowledge” – the stuff you should know without having to use a search engine? The public canon obviously shifts and evolves over time, but increasingly our individual knowledge is becoming fragmented, siloed and insular – not helped by algorithms designed to serve up more of the same or push us deeper into very narrow bands of information. Obviously, tastes and currency change with the times, but what constitutes a core foundation of personal wisdom and understanding to help us navigate the world?

This thought struck me recently during a family games night. One of the teenage participants was given a particularly difficult film title in a round of charades: “Dog Day Afternoon”. I was certain our young contestant had never seen (let alone heard of) this controversial 1975 movie (but which even now, seems highly topical). Yet, our plucky player rose to the challenge, and acted out a very literal interpretation, which made it relatively easy for the rest of the team to solve. It was great to see the process of deduction based on limited information!

So, maybe as long as we keep teaching basic general knowledge plus strong problem-solving skills, we’ll be OK?

 

 

What A Waste!

Local government is like the unwanted stepchild (or even bastard) of Australian politics – not formally recognised by the Constitution, but expected to provide all the services that neither the Commonwealth nor the States want to deliver. So they get delegated with roads and recreation, planning, libraries, waste management and other more esoteric activities.

Most of their funding comes from Federal and State coffers, plus property rates, permit fees and income from sundry services, but they have limited discretion as to how and where to allocate their resources since local by-laws must be consistent with State legislation.

So when it comes to the straightforward provision of rubbish collection and waste recycling, it’s quite amazing how inconsistent these services are from once council to the next.

In the case of my own local authority, we now have four different waste bins, one each for: glass; recycling; organic; and general (i.e., pretty much anything else that does not belong in the other three bins).

In addition to having to remember which bins get collected each week, residents also have to interpret what items can actually go in each bin. For example, “glass” really means only bottles and jars – so no cookware, drinking vessels or other glass products. “Recycling” only covers paper, cardboard, metal cans and lids, foil, and a few categories of plastic bottles and containers (and only as long as the lids have been removed and placed in the “general” waste). Soft plastics such as food packaging are not accepted, nor are Tetra Paks (one of the most common forms of beverage containers). As for the “organic” bin (or FOGO – “food and garden organic”), while this is no doubt a helpful solution to separate valuable compostable materials from general waste, our local council will not allow us to use bio-degradable bags, so the FOGO is thrown straight into the bin (nice in the height of summer!). Yet my friends and neighbours who live in other local council areas are able to use these convenient bags to manage their organic waste. Go figure why there is this difference!

On the question of recycling drink containers, things get even more confusing when looking at the Victorian government’s Container Deposit Scheme (CDS). First, the CDS collection points, despite there being over 600 across the State, are still quite limited (by location and operating hours). Second, the list of eligible categories is shorter than the types of ineligible items (5 vs 7). Third, it seems that unlike local council waste collection, the CDS will accept container lids, and even Tetra Paks (but the latter only applies to flavoured milks, not plain or plant-based milks). Fourth, while my council is willing to accept any glass bottle that has contained alcohol, the CDS only accepts beer and cider bottles. Why do they have to make it so confusing and complicated?

I know that there have been huge problems with the collection and recycling of soft plastics. For a few years, it was possible to return most plastic food packaging (bags and wrappers) to local supermarkets for recycling. But whoever signed off on those service contracts forgot to check what was actually happening to these materials, until there were a series of warehouse fires and other problems. Yet, this reverse supply chain model would be a logical way to manage the CDS – we buy most of our drinks from bottle shops and supermarkets, so why not encourage us to take back the empties to the point of sale? When my family lived in South Australia in the early 1970s, there was already a CDS scheme for bottles, and I remember as kids we would collect the empties and take them back to the local milk bar and use the deposit refunds towards our next purchases. Made sense then, should make even more sense now?

Finally, another example of how inconsistent my local authority is when it comes to waste management: the council operates a depot where local residents can take a range of household items for recycling and disposal, including hard and soft plastics, batteries, electrical goods, computers and peripherals, and larger items that won’t fit in the domestic bins. I took a large plastic item all the way to the depot in person, only to be told I would have to book a hard waste collection service so it could be picked up when they next sent out a truck. Surely I was saving them time and resources by dropping it off at the depot myself?