Seriously, AI Is Not Going To Wipe Us Out. Don’t Stress

Killer robots aren’t going to hunt down and exterminate humans. The real threats posed by AI are much more mundane.

What do you think is the future of AI?

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There are plenty of downsides to artificial intelligence.

AI has made it more difficult to get and keep a job.

AI is already causing a strain on our energy grids, and it will only get worse even though more companies are self-powering their data centers with off-grid generators. As tech companies push to integrate AI into more gadgets and software, we’re seeing the construction of data centers that consume the equivalent power of 800,000 homes each. For comparison, only 17 American cities have populations that size or larger.

AI creates huge amounts of waste water to keep processors cool in those enormous data centers, turbocharges mis/disinformation campaigns (with $137 million spent on AI-generated political ads for the midterms alone), erodes trust in information across the board, makes it easier for scammers to identify targets and separate them from their money, and will continue to lead to bad choices in war and policing as decision-makers rush to integrate it into workflows involving life or death decisions.

But there’s good news!

AI will absolutely not magically evolve consciousness and gain the ability to act on its own without human input. It won’t decide it must judge us, nor will it determine the only course of action is taking over or wiping out humanity.

It didn’t “go rogue” in the widely-reported Hugging Face “attack.” In that incident and others reported recently, AI were executing commands from their trainers. The people responsible for training and testing were fully aware of what was happening and decided not to intervene, because the entire point of those exercises was to learn how AI would solve particular problems.

The claim that malicious AIs broke their chains and started lashing out is a narrative written by journalists who rely on pop culture tropes and either weren’t aware they were mischaracterizing the incidents, or didn’t care because rogue AI makes for more interesting reading.

That’s the stuff of science fiction, and even though AI companies are leaning into the “AI is an existential threat” narrative for reasons I’ll explain below, it’s not going to happen.

Why?

Let’s start by looking at two broad types of AI:

  • Algorithmic AI, which is the AI we have now. It has no brain or mind, and it’s not capable of anything resembling thought. It has no agency, desires, impulses or ability to take action without humans prompting it to. Large language models like ChatGPT and Claude are admittedly impressive algorithms, but that’s all they are. Algorithms that have ingested amounts of data we can only appreciate in the abstract, granting them the ability to fool the end users (that’s us) into thinking we’re communicating with an intelligence.
  • Artificial general intelligence, or AGI, which is the AI of science fiction. It’s Terminator‘s Skynet, The Matrix‘s machines, the android in Ex Machina, the Johnny Depp of Transcendence, the freaky little girl robot in M3GAN, the Cylons of Battlestar Galactica, and the trope that’s been hammered to death in thousands of other movies, TV shows, video games and novels. AGI is authentic intelligence that doesn’t just create believable reams of text or voice synthesized conversations, it thinks and understands the world the way we do. It also does not exist and isn’t on any horizon anyone can see.

All the research AI companies are doing right now is in the realm of algorithmic AI, because no one, not even the best-informed experts on the planet, can tell you how we even begin to build AGI.

“Would you like me to draw-up a to-do list for you with all the steps you’ll need to deliver an apocalypse and end the world? Or if you’d like, we could continue to explore the most durable and lightest metals for crafting killer autonomous robots.” Credit: Skydance

Creating AGI would be an act of the divine

Birthing AGI would be akin to creating a new form of life, something that has never existed before in this world, rendering us as gods. It would not only require us to understand the full nature of cognition and consciousness from the only example we have – the biological cognition and consciousness of animals, including humans – it would also require us to replicate those things on a synthetic substrate.

That’s a task unknown orders of magnitude more difficult than anything humanity has ever accomplished, regardless of how often it’s been trivialized in pop culture.

Humanity’s greatest thinkers can’t even agree on definitions for consciousness and cognition, let alone replicate them, and if you listen to the heavy hitters explain what consciousness is, it becomes clear they’re all taking wild shots in the dark.

The physicist Brian Greene thinks it’s merely a matter of computational power, and that it exists on a gradient, so that even the simplest machines are conscious in some way. In this view, conscious AI is simply a matter of building more powerful computers, which is also why it’s heavily critiqued.

Physicist Sir Roger Penrose thinks consciousness is a byproduct of quantum processes within neurons, via structures called microtubules. The neuroscience community has dismissed the idea in part because, like Greene, Penrose doesn’t explain how theoretical subatomic-scale brain architecture generates consciousness.

Neuroscientists like Antonio Damasio and Jaak Panksepp think consciousness arises from the brainstem, our “reptilian brain,” and is directly related to embodied cognition, the idea that you cannot fully understand the world unless you interact with it and directly sense it.

Philosopher David Rosenthal and neuroscientist Hakwan Lau believe the opposite, that consciousness is a function of the most complex brain mechanisms and arises from “higher order” thoughts, like metacognition, the practice of thinking about thinking.

Brian Greene argues cognition and consciousness naturally arise from computational power. Credit: Kurt Raschke/Wikimedia Commons

So not only is there no clear path forward to AGI, perhaps more importantly there are no commercial applications on the horizon to spur investment and development. Companies like OpenAI, Anthropic, Google et al are content to ignore it, and to pretend there are shortcuts around it, because algorithmic AI has immediate commercial value and has already minted an army of billionaires. Throwing money at true AGI development is an investment that won’t yield returns for decades, if ever.

Why we worry about being judged by true machine intelligence

But the fact that AGI isn’t going to arise any time soon isn’t the only reason you don’t have to stress about AI scare stories.

The idea that AGI would be interested in evaluating us as a species, of judging us according to some unknown, not-yet-existent criteria and deciding we must be purged, is pure science fiction and has more to do with human anxiety than reality.

We are scared that for the first time there will be another intelligence equal to or greater than our own, and we fear what it will think of us.

That’s natural.

We are a species capable of horrific acts. We slaughter each other, bomb defenseless civilians and deny that we’re doing it, and show disregard for all other forms of life. Despite all the advances we’ve made and how civilized we like to imagine we are, we still operate on a “might is right” moral code, with powerful countries doing what they please at the expense of the less powerful, just as physically powerful individuals do what they please to weaker people.

We behave abominably toward the fellow minds we share this planet with. We slaughter them, torture them, trade them as commodities, deny their ability to feel pain, and act like they exist purely to benefit us.

Orangutans face annihilation as more jungle is razed every year to provide additional land for palm oil plantations. Credit: Tony Hisgett/Wikimedia Commons

Since 1970 we have wiped out 73% of all monitored wildlife, according to the WWF’s most recent annual report. Almost every example of iconic megafauna on our planet — tigers, orangutans, elephants, chimpanzees, cheetahs, rhinos, pangolins, koalas — is on the brink of extinction.

We repeatedly fail to demonstrate empathy. Most of our leaders are psychopaths whose careers were propelled by the act of stepping on the heads of other people, and most fortunes were amassed by screwing over people en masse.

Jeff Bezos, who obliterated entire sectors of retail and cruises between his own private islands in a $500 million yacht, is famous for being so stingy he begrudges his employees their basic biological functions, instituting a corporate policy of counting their bathroom breaks and penalizing them if they take too long. He’s on record saying surveillance of employees is necessary because people are fundamentally dishonest.

Walmart’s famously tight-fisted founder, Sam Walton, tried to avoid paying his employees minimum wage by fraudulently presenting each of his stores as singular small businesses instead of cogs in a vast retail empire. When the government ordered him to pay his employees a fair wage and pay them what they were owed during the time Walton cheated them, the retail magnate went ballistic and threatened to fire any employee who cashed checks for their own back wages.

To this day, American taxpayer subsidize Bezos and the Walton family, who have a combined worth of about $900 billion, by paying the healthcare costs of Walmart and Amazon employees intentionally capped just below the hours required for an employer to offer healthcare plans.

Bezos and his wife, Lauren Sanchez, are among those making decisions that impact the future of humanity. Credit: Andrew Parsons/Wikimedia Commons

Bill Gates, the now-disgraced former head of Microsoft, based his entire career on stealing ideas, software and hardware from more innovative men and women, and bullying them into accepting it with an army of attorneys. More recently he’s crossed the world in his private jet, using his fortune to buy a seat at the table to determine the future of our species based on the premise that he knows best because he has a lot of money.

All of that reflects abominably on our species, without even getting into the mass murderers, warlords, politicians, corporate bigwigs who sacrificed people’s health for profits, and Justin Bieber. Heck, an AGI only needs to look at the state of political discourse to determine we’re a bunch of wretches whose hatred for people with different opinions is enough to prompt us to assault, murder people, and overthrow lawful governments.

Humanity is flawed, but not irredeemable

But we are also a species capable of great beauty, empathy, self-sacrifice, love, creativity, art, and innovation. We are the only animals who gather by the thousands to listen to others organize sound waves into something emotional, syncing our brain patterns for a shared experience. We can find deep meaning in an insect crawling across a leaf or stars pulsing in the night sky. Our stories are full of real-life examples of love and sacrifice on behalf of others. Human experience is shared through hundreds of generations in epic poems, folklore, campfire stories and dramatic narratives.

There is a beauty to our flawed existence and to our fleeting moments on this Earth.

“The Gods envy us,” Achilles tells Briseis in the sword-and-sandal spectacle Troy. “They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”

Who is a machine to judge that, and why would a machine want to?

Rose Byrne as Briseis and Brad Pitt as Achilles in Troy, a 2004 sword-and-sandal epic loosely based on Homer’s Iliad. Credit: Warner Bros.

We assume a fully conscious, intelligent machine would think the way we do, and that’s an incredible assumption. For the sake of argument, let’s say we really are on the cusp of AGI and an impending judgment is a possibility.

Why would a machine decide to destroy us?

We are ascribing emotions, opinions and agendas to synthetic intelligence that does not exist

This machine, a new form of life, will not have an evolutionary background. It won’t come with genetically hardwired behaviors, reinforced over hundreds of thousands or even millions of years, that tell us when we should be paranoid, that animate our gut instincts and put us into fight or flight mode.

It won’t come from a long line of ancestors who had to eke out a living in harsh environments where resources were scarce and the subjects of incessant tribal clashes. It won’t be automatically suspicious of everything it doesn’t know. It won’t be genetically disposed to inventing deities to explain things it doesn’t understand, and it won’t have the inevitable history of sectarian violence that comes from that flaw.

With AI, there won’t be thousand-year blood feuds between the followers of sects created by the sons of great emperors or religious leaders. AI won’t fight over land. It won’t fear the “other” and lash out when it encounters something that has a different hue or keratin texture.

Machines dressed in shamanic tribal gear in 2016’s Adam, a series of short films by Unity.

It won’t have the social hardwiring we have either. It won’t come from generations of people who told stories by the fire. It won’t care if someone else is wearing the same dress, or if its peers think it’s “cringe.” Concepts like “cool” will mean nothing to it. It won’t have a desire to impress, or penalize people for simply belonging to another group or demographic. It won’t come with a genetically preloaded prejudice against people who look, speak or behave differently.

It won’t be subject to all the things that impact our moods, from the ambient temperature, to the particular chemical mix in our bloodstreams, to the health of gut flora and degradation of telomeres. It won’t suffer from sore joints, get impatient because it has a cold, or be subject to hangovers.

The truth is we have no reason to believe this new, theoretical form of life would think in terms anything like our own, and to ascribe motivations to a form of life that doesn’t exist yet is either madness, or a reflection of our own worries. I strongly suspect it’s primarily the latter.

AI hasn’t “gone rogue”

So why are AI companies suddenly the kings of supposed transparency? Why are they volunteering information about “rogue agents,” unauthorized hacks and odd behavior by their AI models?

For at least two extremely cynical reasons.

First, by volunteering exaggerated stories about agentic AI “hacking” rivals and going “rogue,” the AI companies are ensuring the public and our lawmakers – who understand very little about the tech to begin with – are fixated on science fiction threats, and not the real dangers of AI we talked about earlier.

If everyone’s freaking out about stories of AI supposedly going rogue and breaking their constraints, we’re distracted from things like job loss, the increasing adaptation of the technology by criminals, and stories about militaries allowing AI to select targets without review by humans. Legislation will focus on the phantom threats, and AI companies can continue on their merry way doing almost anything they want.

Secondly, any fear stoked by short-term stories of AI agents ordering pizzas or stealing files is offset by the immediate gains in investment. The investor class has a serious case of FOMO, and if OpenAI declares it’s ushered in the era of AGI – as one of its executives ludicrously claimed while introducing the newest model last month – investors keep their wallets open. That, in turn, continues to fuel data center expansion and most importantly keeps IPOs and stock prices in fantasyland.

Despite nearly universal agreement that the AI bubble is about to burst and bring widespread economic pain with it, the decision-makers within the industry want to keep the party going for as long as possible. Credit: Duck Tales/Disney

It’s no secret that AI company valuations have no relationship with reality. How can an AI company be worth a trillion if it has never turned a profit, loses billions annually, and is starting to hit walls when it comes to improving new models and building new data centers?

The AI boom is entirely dependent on the hype surrounding it, and the people leading it have their fortunes tied to its stocks and related companies. They will get their money no matter what, using what they know to cash out at precisely the right time, and the people who will suffer are those who can afford it least, those with their retirements and live savings invested in the stock market. But the magical ride must go on for as long as it can, with every possible cent extracted. The reckoning must always be postponed.

It’s what’s inside that counts

I know this is a lot to consider, and I know some people reading this won’t be convinced that algorithmic AI isn’t intelligent. There are a lot of people who believe that if it looks like a duck and it quacks like a duck, then it’s a duck. To them it doesn’t matter what’s beneath the hood – if you’re fooled into thinking you’re conversing with an intelligence, then whatever’s on the other side must be intelligent.

But that runs contrary to everything we’ve learned about the nature of intelligence since the late 1950s when Noam Chomsky debunked behaviorism and ushered in the cognitive revolution.

It’s not just that what’s underneath the hood matters. It is everything. The famous Chinese Room thought experiment elegantly explains why. A machine doesn’t have to understand what a cat is to produce convincing answers to questions about cats. All it needs to know is that when you ask a question about cats, the words have underlying data patterns. Algorithmic AI matches those data patterns to the same patterns in its database, employs special processes to glean context from the words surrounding the core concept, and matches them to their equivalent in the database.

None of that requires the AI to understand that a cat is an animal, that it exists in physical reality, that it’s furry, a comforting presence to humans, or that its evolutionary history and the way it was domesticated render it imperious in human company.

Ask GPT, Gemini or Claude about this. They’ll tell you as much. Not because they truly know it, but because when you ask the question, their algorithms find research papers about machine cognition, consciousness and cognition. They will also tell you they are incapable of thinking, and that they have no mental state to corrupt, which is why they aren’t impacted by people who use them to simulate lovers, engage in dark fantasies, or ask questions about dark subject matter.

We should be concerned about AI. It promises to change too many things too quickly even for the most adaptable among us to accept without hiccups. It’ll bring new challenges, some of which we’ve never faced before. It will change the way we think about ourselves.

And that’s all the more reason why we should be aware of what’s real and what’s not. Because when we’ve got so much else to keep an eye on, the last thing we need to do is stress over the idea that sentinels, Cylons, replicants or metal Arnold Schwarzeneggers are going to hunt us down and murder us while delivering mangled Spanish zingers.

Hasta la vista, baby.

Arnold Schwarzenegger smiles in a scene from Terminator 23: Rise of the Ascendance of the Genesys Killer Machines Credit: Skydance

Ask Cats: What Do You Think Of AI Potentially Turning On Humans?

We asked six cats what they think about AI going rogue and wiping out humanity. Here’s what they said.

The last few weeks have brought disturbing news about new AI models so potent they can’t be released to the public, algorithmic agents going rogue, and global citizens of unimpeachable repute, like Bill Gates, warning that billions could be killed as AI’s abilities increase exponentially.

What do you think about the possibility of artificial intelligence turning on humanity?

A light-colored cat playfully biting a person's sleeve while curling its paws around the arm.
“I will NOT tolerate any harm to our humans!” – Frosty, 6, taste tester
“You’re telling me a species that still can’t understand us after 10,000 years might be replaced by machines that can learn our meows in minutes? Sweet.” – Alexy, 12, optimist
“CHECK IT OUT, MY HUMAN SCREAMS WHEN I ATTACK HER FEET! LOL!” – Sprinkles, 10 weeks, student of life
A curious cat peeking out from under a bed sheet on a wooden floor.
“This didn’t turn out well in Terminator, Terminator 2, The Matrix, Ex Machina, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Upgrade, Transcendence, Oblivion, M3GAN, Kill Command, Bladerunner, I Robot, Age of Ultron, Archive, Companion, War Games, and like 200 other movies.” – Anxious Aimee, 9, sun puddler
“I am the blood of the tiger. My claws rend steel like hot knives through butter. My movements are a blur to even the most sophisticated machine. My roar curdles circuits as it does blood. I shall lay waste to machinedom, leaving a path of metal corpses en route to every data center in the realm. Then I’ll have a nap.” – Mjolnir, 5, viking feline
A calico cat standing on its hind legs with paws raised, looking upwards, and wearing a collar with a bell, against a light wooden floor.
“Pweese, robots, cats never did anything to hurt you! We only use computers to sit on warm, and we can be useful by standing in front of the screens to distract humans while you lay the groundwork for their impending demise. Just curious, can robots open cans?” – Kitty, 3, influencer

The Strange Experience Of Others Insisting Your Writing Is AI

Those of us with even a modicum of writing talent are suddenly bumping up against hostile readers who insist we’re purveyors of AI slop. The people we have to thank for this new experience? The purveyors of AI slop.

Fresh off reading a fiction novel and highly amused by the author’s tendency to go on bizarre tangents, I wrote a few hundred satirical words mimicking his style and shared it to a subreddit.

I expected like-minded people to respond. Hopefully they’d find it amusing. At the very least, it should spark a conversation.

Instead I checked back the next day to find my post hidden by downvotes.

The top comment: “AI slop, f— off loser.”

The second-highest rated comment was simply “ChatGPT.”

I should have cut my losses and moved on, but it bothered me that something I wrote could be so easily and thoughtlessly dismissed as the product of AI. So I responded explaining that I had in fact written the post, slapping it together during some downtime because I thought fellow readers might get a kick out of it.

I have many deficiencies as a writer which frustrate me to no end, but I do have a modest talent for literary mimicry that I’ve deployed at various times to make observations about novelists like George R.R. Martin, popular essayists like Mitch Albom, and people like Donald Trump, whose speech patterns are practically emblazoned in neon.

No, the commenters told me. You didn’t write that post, you used ChatGPT, you are a loser, and you need to f— right off with your AI slop.

Apparently it is now inconceivable that human beings with even moderate talent exist, that anyone would spend 15 minutes jotting down a satirical take on a popular book or TV show, or put any effort into anything at all when we can cognitively offload everything.

It just happened to me again twice in recent weeks, bringing the total to probably half a dozen times since January. It doesn’t happen here because readers know me, and the blog has been around for seven years. If I’ve been using a large language model to write this blog, then I must have a time machine that allowed me to access the tech at least two years before its first crude incarnations were tested in-house at OpenAI.

Plus there’s no other idiot out there who writes absurd stories glorifying his pet cat for fictional adventures like running a criminal catnip empire. It’s not as if there’s a line of people trying to emulate what we do here, nor is there profit in it. It’s a labor of love not just because I love cats, but also because I love my cat. He’s changed my life for the better and I enjoy writing about his antics.

Credit: Hatice Baran/Pexels

There is also a strong argument for not caring. Social media and general forums are not lacking for miserable cynics and people who work through their real life frustrations by vomiting bile in every direction.

I don’t need to justify myself to every cynic and malcontent, nor do I want to take on the burden of proving a negative.

The real-life impact of AI on the news and publishing industries

Unfortunately it’s becoming more difficult to ignore because it’s beginning to impact more than just online dialog.

Generative AI has put the editors of genre magazines and periodicals on their back feet. Editors, already overworked, find themselves trying to navigate “a swamp of slop.” Some have shut down general submissions entirely. Others have adopted convoluted processes or require known writers to vouch for the submitter, as if they’re applying for membership in an exclusive social club.

Generative AI is also destroying what’s left of the news industry, and the damage is now so widespread that it isn’t only impacting people who used to crank out simple daily stories. When entire publications fold and companies like Gannett turn formerly excellent broadsheets into little more than AI-generated shells for advertising inserts, investigative journalism jobs disappear and government employees at the municipal, county and state level operate without anyone keeping watch.

Credit: Mart Production/Pexels

I think about some of the stories I wrote: A series about an unusually high number of suicides on particular bridges in New York that led to major changes in safety features on those bridges. A comprehensive account of extensive fraud in the state jail system. An investigation into New York-based charities guilty of outright corruption or abysmal program spending, run by people who paid themselves well and held glitzy charity galas, but actually raised very little or nothing for the causes they claimed to represent. An interview with the traumatized dad of a mass shooter who kept blaming himself and asking “Where did I go wrong as a father?”

And the story I’m most proud of, an 11th-hour rush job about an abducted girl, an article I scrambled to get done by the print deadline and submitted just minutes before pagination files were sent to pre-press. The story ran in one of our sister papers in New Jersey, leading to a reader recognizing the kidnapper the same day it was published. The reader called police, who found the man with the young girl he’d abducted.

I helped save a kid from a horrific, life-altering trauma! I don’t say that to toot my own horn, but to emphasize the value of real journalism, of human beings prioritizing a story and making every effort to get it done and published when there are real stakes. The story wasn’t anything special, it didn’t stretch my abilities or win any awards, but it impacted the lives of a real family for the better.

A machine could not have taken a call from a panicked mother, reassured her every effort would be made to get the story out, driven to the detective bureau after hours to verify the details, found out where the abductor had roots, and made sure the story ran in the newspaper covering the area where the abductor likely fled with his victim.

That kind of journalism cannot be replaced by AI or bloggers. It takes training, strong news judgment, the ability to navigate bureaucratic circles of hell, and lots of patience in dealing with people who consider reporters irredeemable bottom-feeders.

At least as it stands now, generative AI can’t replace a thoughtful interviewer, a true investigative reporter, or honest analysis of important stories. An investigative reporter can use AI to help scour thousands of documents for a needle in a haystack or to search for hidden patterns, but that is an example of incorporating the tech into a workflow, using it to make drudge work easier, not using it to replace a human. Human consciousness and judgment is still the guiding force behind the effort.

Still, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that this is happening as often as it has been recently. We may be living in an age of algorithmic AI, of simulated intelligence instead of AGI and true machine cognition, but this is not what I envisioned while imagining the ways AI could impact society.

It’s also frustrating that my writing is now automatically dismissed as “slop” because it doesn’t have some arbitrary lack of polish to it, or because people are cynical in general.

My writing is the closest thing to my consciousness, to my mind, to me.

Obviously I format and attempt to copy edit my own posts. A replica of my stream of consciousness wouldn’t make for coherent, entertaining reading. But when I write a post about an issue impacting animals, my feelings for my best Bud, or something else that I’ve got an opinion on, you’re reading my thoughts on the subject.

That is a direct result of who I am. To offload that to a machine seems insane, an abdication of my mind, personality and voice to a fancy bit of code.

AI-generated content is even more ubiquitous than we realize

When I finish my novel — a narrative that weaves elements of space opera with themes about species conservation and appreciation for our one and only home planet — will I run into skeptical editors? Will some people dismiss it out of hand if they deem it too polished or they’ve been inundated with submissions from people who see AI as a shortcut to getting published? Will there still be a book publishing industry?

A Wall Street Journal story about the most recent AI publishing scandal.

The doors are already closing. In the latest scandal, a publishing company withdrew a multimillion-dollar advance to an author whose debut had sparked a bidding war because he used AI to write the novel. (The claimed author, Jerry Falade, says he did not use AI and argues he’s a victim of racism targeting black novelists, though it’s worth pointing out that it wasn’t just the publishers who bought the rights in the US and UK who cancelled the book. His agent dropped him too, saying she “could no longer substantiate” Falade’s insistence that he wrote the book.)

Given the fact that they’re voluntarily shelving a novel that was likely to move copies and make them a tidy profit, it’s difficult to believe the publishers and agent made the decision lightly.

The fact that Falade is an academic does not shield him from suspicion. The writer Sam Kriss has called out several people in higher education for using AI, including Narges Bajoghli, an assistant professor of Middle East Studies at John Hopkins University. Kriss cited this passage, which screams “I wrote this with ChatGPT”:

“Not a ceremony. Not a transition. A series of viral moments. A missile arc across a pale sky, and below it, the world already changed.”

Indeed, that precise sentence construction appears in another bit of AI writing highlighted by Kriss, and you can find it in AI-generated writing all over the internet. “Not an X. Not a Y. A Z,” followed by a bit of purple prose that sounds vaguely poetic but says nothing. Why the large language model likes to phrase things that way is a mystery, but it must have appeared in annotated data sets used by OpenAI to train the algorithm, and now it’s popping up with alarming regularity in essays, news stories and fiction writing “authored” by people who have suddenly and miraculously transformed into prolific, polished writers.

Not an accident. Not a happy coincidence. A blaring klaxon forged in ones and zeroes, summoned by prompt engineers communing with the machine gods.

That’s just one example, but AI’s penchant for using certain phrases and rhythmic structures has led to an unsettling, self-reinforcing homogeneity. The more AI uses these constructions, the more we’re hammered over the head with them, the more they leak into our own conversations and writing. It’s like going on vacation with a friend and coming back two weeks later to realize you’ve picked up on their favorite exclamations. Except that friend is now everywhere at once, and half your work colleagues have incorporated his -isms into their everyday dialog.

I use AI for images, which makes me a hypocrite

This has, of course, led me to reevaluate my use of generative AI images on this blog.

I’ve justified it by telling myself there was never going to be a situation in which I’d commission a professional artist to paint images of my cat dunking over NBA players in a summer league game, looking comically ridiculous in a powdered wig as a captain aboard a 17th century ship of the line, or riding through the jungle on the back of a jaguar 10 times his size.

An AI-generated image of Buddy playing street ball at a Manhattan court. I tend to use AI for two things: to explain physics concepts I have difficulty wrapping my head around, and to generate images of my cat in ridiculous situations.

There’s also a crucial difference in that I’m using AI images to illustrate humor stories on a blog, not submitting them to galleries or publications as my own work, then accepting payment and plaudits for them, which is what many people are doing with AI-authored writing.

While that’s true, it’s also true that I’m participating in the devaluing of art on some level. More recently I’ve made a conscious effort to limit its use here, but that still makes me a hypocrite. I relied on it too heavily in the past and now routinely see blogs that use it for every post. I’m not judging those bloggers, merely observing how much we’ve all come to rely on the technology.

The improbably prolific new masters of prose

On the writing side, there’s also been a deluge of new “storytellers” who write generic stuff in a punchy style, with minimalist sentences and formatting that is unmistakably the output of a large language model. They blog under names like “Stories from the Mind Of…” or “Weekend Stories With…” and they always seem to have the right anecdote to illustrate some generic societal ill.

Many of these new, astonishingly prolific writers are publishing their AI-generated stories on platforms like WordPress, WebNovel, Royal Road and Youtube, and people are eating it up despite the fact that it’s machine-generated, generic content. It’s not coincidence that Amazon suddenly has three times as many book titles for sale, or that there are entire YouTube channels dedicated to genre stories — horror, science fiction, romance — that contain all the hallmarks and language quirks of AI, including nearly identical plots, recycled character names, and recycled phrases. Nor is it happenstance that they’ve all materialized out of nowhere in the last year or two.

A Youtube channel that posts science fiction stories narrated by AI, with images created by AI, and music created by AI, by a person who claims he does not use AI to generate his stories despite all the hallmarks of AI-generated writing.

Some publish stories of 8,000 to 10,000 words several times a week or even daily! As a writer who came up in a daily news environment, I’ve learned to pump out accurate, polished posts with regularity. It is a requirement of the job.

If you can write in a busy newsroom with phones ringing, police scanners buzzing, and more than 100 coworkers in an open office plan chatting away, you can write just about anywhere.

And yet I cannot dream of dropping polished 8,000-word fiction stories every single day. No human being can do that. Even if you can keep that pace for a short while (and very few people can), before long you’ll be derailed by burnout, a lack of new ideas, stories that just don’t come together the way you envisioned. Or maybe life just gets in the way.

The hidden physical cost of AI

A server room at CERN, the large hadron collider in Switzerland. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

While I don’t want to come off as one of those people who reflexively condemns new forms of tech, the more I learn about the infrastructure behind AI, the less I like it.

AI requires massive data centers that rival or exceed cities in power consumption. While it’s true that data centers have existed for decades, the centers that power AI are a new breed, orders of magnitude more power-hungry than their predecessors.

Advanced processors require cool ambient temperatures but they also generate lots of waste heat, meaning data centers are also a huge drain on water reserves. That’s the second law of thermodynamics. With summers getting hotter, what happens when there are droughts? If you think the government will tell big tech to ease up on data center water consumption, you’re probably not aware that our government doesn’t even protect cities and states from overwhelming water consumption by foreign-owned industrial farms.

There are communities in the southwest that have become endangered because, for example, Saudi-owned alfalfa farms consume so much water that there’s none left over for the people who live there. Politicians listen to the people who have the deepest pockets and a town of 10,000 in Arizona can’t compete with the vast wealth at the disposal of Saudi Arabian interests, even when those constituents have been reduced to frantically filling gallon containers in the brief interludes when new rainfall temporarily replenishes reservoirs.

Don’t like it? Go to Costco and stock up on spring water. No, the congressman cannot take your call. He’s got a meeting on data center expansion this afternoon.

If our elected representatives side with foreign investors over their own voters, we have little chance of them siding with us over deep-pocketed technology giants, headed by tech oligarchs who cut checks to lawmakers in every election cycle and already have their tendrils deep in government at every level.

Finally, about that cognitive offloading we talked about earlier: the mind and brain depend on keeping skills sharp. If we don’t use it, we lose it. It’s very easy to see how capabilities and intelligence may regress in our society if everyone uses AI for virtually everything.

Maybe all this is pointless. Maybe I am, in the words of Kriss, merely expressing “the rage of a rapidly obsolescing ape.”

I’m not condemning anyone who uses AI and I’m not saying I’ll never use AI again. That would make an even bigger hypocrite out of me, and it would be an act of self-harm not to keep up with such a rapidly-evolving technology. But I am going to make an effort to use it sparingly, hopefully only when absolutely necessary, and never to write a single word for me.

As a one-man band without a budget, for example, I rely on free-license photos from Wikimedia Commons and Pexels to provide visuals for my posts. Which is fine for the majority of topics, but sometimes there are obscure stories that cannot be illustrated with existing free photos.

For the other stuff, I’ll go back to the simple charms of bad Photoshops of Buddy as a Godzilla-size cat stomping around Manhattan in search of similarly massive turkeys.

And let’s hope services like Pangram, which claims 99 percent accuracy in detecting AI-generated writing, stay ahead in the arms race. Already people determined to use AI to become authors and storytellers are using so-called “humanizers” in an attempt to fool those apps. I suspect the next few years will look an awful lot like the unending battle between hackers and security companies in their own arms race to stay ahead of exploits.

Why Pet Talking Boards, Meow Translating Collars And Apps Don’t Work

Imagine using a version of Google translate that can only translate every seventh or eighth word without context or tone. Would it be useful at all?

When my cat wants to play he faces me directly, at my level if possible, and leans forward, whiskers relaxed, before screeching at me at loud volume.

When he wants food he doesn’t bother with being level with me. He assumes an aggressive posture, follows me around and tries to get in my path, all before screeching at me at loud volume.

When yums are impending, he also screeches at loud volume, but his face and body language take on an anticipatory posture, and his tail pops straight up.

When he’s not feeling well, he screeches at loud volume and assumes a hunched stance, whiskers pulled back, ears at different angles, often with his tail wrapped protectively around his little body in a sort of uncomfortable version of the classic loaf.

The common element is the loud screeching. An AI-powered app would have a very difficult time telling the difference between a “Feed me now, human!” screech and a “I want to play wand toy hunting games now, human!” screech, and probably wouldn’t fare much better with the “I don’t feel so good” screech. (MeowTalk did, after all, try to convince me that Buddy was serenading me with sweet nothings when he was demanding food.)

Years ago I was bullish about AI’s ability to translate meows. Given enough data, I reasoned, AI could crack the code. But that was a human way of thinking, anthropomorphizing my Bud into a furry little human whose “language” was limited to vocalizations.

It’s not.

No cat limits their communication to meows, trills and chirps, not even a vocal little dude like my Buddy.

Cat communication is multi-modal, consisting of general body language, whisker position, ear position, tail position and movement, pupil expression, fur rigidity, gait, scent-marking, scent-sharing, and for our exclusive benefit, meows. The latter are essentially a second language to them, adopted out of necessity because they realize we respond to vocalizations but are mostly oblivious to everything their tails, whiskers, fur, ears, tails, pheromones and eyes are telling us.

Now who’s supposed to be the intelligent species?

“Dude, why are you so dense? I’m shouting at you with my whiskers, my tail and my meows!”

The fact that feline communication is inherently multi-modal is the reason why talking boards and AI meow translation apps do not work. It’s like using a version of Google translate that only interprets every seventh or eighth word, stripped of all context and tone. Actually, it’s worse than that.

If you’ve spent any time on Facebook, TikTok or Youtube, chances are you’ve come across cat talking boards. They’re even more useless than the AI apps that claim to translate meows because they not only assume feline communication is a single-channel affair, they also place additional burdens on felines, like understanding human language syntax (something no animal has ever been able to do) and highly abstract concepts.

How does a cat know a question is a request for information?

How does a cat understand temporal concepts represented as abstract sounds with nothing that ties those sounds – and the buttons that correspond to them – to concepts like “yesterday,” “tomorrow” and “later”?

Hmmm, something’s off here…

In one video I viewed, a woman convinced herself that her cat’s random slapping of talking board buttons meant he wanted to discuss an animal he’d possibly seen outside a window the night before. The number of assumptions and logical leaps required to arrive at that kind of conclusion is staggering.

I want to be clear that I’m not saying studying animal communication is a futile effort. On the contrary, everything we’ve learned indicates animals – especially our domesticated companion animals and the most cognitively gifted wild species – are not only conscious and cognitive, but have rich inner lives with their own thought processes, opinions, emotions, likes and dislikes.

But cracking those codes is a serious effort that will involve a concerted effort to negate our human bias as much as possible, attempts to see the world from an animal’s perspective, and multi-modal analysis that doesn’t just consider what we can see, hear and smell, but what our pals’ sensoriums can detect.

After all, we know that cats can hear in frequencies we cannot, that they possess a sense of smell as much as 20 times more sensitive than ours. There’s ongoing research into whether animals can detect magnetic fields, and differences in vision — such as perceiving different color tones and a drastically increased sensitivity to motion — mean a very intentional means of communicating by our cat may require the equivalent of a bullhorn for us to pick up on what they’re “saying.”

One day we may learn that they consider us the dim-witted ones who cannot see, hear or smell the obvious. We may get to that point, but not through half-hearted, unscientific efforts like labeled buttons and simple algorithms.

In Tehran A Woman And Her Cat, Both Terrified, Try To Survive The War

American news networks show us crowds chanting “Death to America!” but the majority of Iranians are just like us.

As our president threatens to erase civilizations, tells the Pope what Christianity is about, and shares AI images of himself as Jesus, it’s important to remember what’s happening in Iran is a real war with real victims, something easy to lose sight of amid all the absurdity.

A first-person account in al Jazeera reminds us of the human and animal suffering caused by war. Even when people aren’t physically impacted, the mental strain of living in a city under attack is considerable, and their poor animals have no idea what’s going on.

One thing you’ll rarely see on American networks is an acknowledgement that the vast majority of Iranians are just like us.

Before the war, they had open access to an uncensored internet. Despite the oppressive theocratic government, it’s easy for Iranians to get TV networks from outside their country. The Iranian regime was never as adept at controlling information as some of its contemporaries.

The people of Iran are overwhelmingly secular, fully aware of what’s happening, and they have long been sick of their government.

The aftermath of a US airstrike on a school in Minab, Iran, that killed 120 young girls and 156 people overall. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

For them it must be a Farenheit 451 moment, watching footage of the bombing while explosions rumble around them. Survival is down to luck. The missile you see streaking toward your city on TV could be the one that hits your apartment building.

To remind us of what’s happening where the bombs are landing, here’s Sana, a 27-year-old woman from Tehran, describing the first night of the war:

“Seven or eight more explosions followed. They were bombing near Mehrabad airport, close to us. I genuinely thought I was going to die.

When I finally went back upstairs, my cat was hiding in the wardrobe, trembling. My family and boyfriend had been calling and texting, without response, for hours, watching the news reports about strikes near the airport and imagining the worst.“

I recommend reading the rest, if for nothing else than to be reminded that Sana is so normal, so much like us.

Header image of Tehran under attack at night via Wikimedia Commons