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danup asked:

Asking bc you're the only person I follow who creates art (loved TNC) and works on AI—what's your sense of what a future with ML tools to write and create art looks like? Since GPT-3 (and brought on this week by all the Stable Diffusion tricks) I get struck every few months w/ a real dread about this world where artists feel obsolete, everything can be credibly faked, "content" is endless + private, etc. (That's not *exactly* right, but I guess I can't quite explain what brings the dread about.)

I can only speak to the creative side of this as a writer, since I’m not a visual artist.

And the two domains are different, here. Existing ML is much closer to being useful for significant automation in visual art than it is in creative writing.

—-

With writing, ML has a very serious fundamental limitation: the context window.

All of these impressive recent language models can only “see” a fairly short stretch of text at once. Usually it’s 2048 tokens, which is something like ~1500-1800 words, or ~5-7 printed pages. If they’re writing a longer text, they can’t “remember” anything they wrote down that’s further back than this distance.

They are like this because they use an operation (attention) that gets prohibitively slow over long distances.

Many people have tried to invent more efficient variants of attention, and there are now lots of these efficient variants that do pretty well on benchmarks. I’ve heard they’re very effective for some non-linguistic kinds of data, but on text, none of the existing ones are good enough to see serious use in real models.

(GPT-3 did use a kind of efficient attention, but only in half the layers, and the large DeepMind/Google LMs don’t use it at all. This is a big area and there’s more stuff I could comment on, like DeepMind’s RETRO, but in short, no one has found a way to break this barrier for the case of long-form writing.)

You simply can’t write something like a book in this manner, not competently.

I’m aware of one fiction writer who does (or did?) use GPT-3 as an aid for long-form writing, but based on the linked post, it sounds like it’s at best marginally helpful if you’re doing a particular kind of genre fiction and you really care about cranking out words to pay the bills, among other necessary conditions.

—-

Even putting aside the context window, though, language models just … aren’t that good at creative writing?

The perfect niche for their current strengths is something like “surreal short stories / microfiction.” My bot writes this kind of thing sometimes, and I’m sure the bigger models are better at it.

But IME, the results are at the level where you nod along and think “huh, that’s really quite good!”, knowing it’s from a machine. Not the level where you want to go out and buy this writer’s anthology. And that’s what we get in the most favorable niche for these tools.

Why are these stories so underwhelming? A lot of it, for me, is that if I know there’s no intention behind the text, I stop caring about it.

We can talk about the “intentional fallacy” (AKA the popular sense of “death of the author”) all day, but talk is cheap. I think our psychological relationship to reading really does depend on the notion of authorial intent – perhaps in some complex or poorly understood manner, but that is not the same thing as intent not mattering at all.

If I read a surreal short story by a human, I get an itch to interpret it. This itch persists even if I hear the author explain exactly what they meant, and believe them; it feels like there’s some “true intent” worth discerning that may not be identical with the author’s.

You might suppose this true intent is intrinsic to the text itself, which seems reasonable … until you tell me the story was written by GPT-3, and suddenly, somehow, I don’t care anymore.

I don’t really understand this phenomenon, but I think we’ll encounter its sharp edges more and more as ML gets better.

—-

That’s all about writing. Visual art is much easier for ML models.

The whole picture can fit into what the model can see, all at once. Also, the domain is narrower: language models are effectively being asked to learn everything about everything, since any topic whatsoever could happen to come up (even in fiction). Whereas even if you’re trying to draw pictures of absolutely anything, you’re still limited to what is visually depictable.

And in fact, to my eye, the image generators come a lot closer to doing what humans do. Although they do it in a way that’s hard to control, which may end up being the limiting factor – see this post.

If I were employed as a visual artist, well, I’m not sure how I’d feel right now.

Although here too, the intention issue I mentioned feels relevant. I’m no more a serious appreciator of visual art than I am a creator of it, but I imagine that a similar dynamic will hold there. The machine can (so to speak) “force” you to notice that its art is pretty, or well-crafted, but it can’t actually force you to care.

—-

And that, really, is why I’m optimistic about this stuff.

What if “content” becomes effectively free? Well, we already are in that situation, relative to the world of 1980.

The ability to browse many lifetimes’ worth of art and writing using Google search – and all that for $0 – has not made the creation of new art feel spurious, nor has it replaced the age-old need to hunt for stuff you actually like / care about with some automated process where Google tells you your next favorite book.

If I’m looking for the next book to read, I still consult reviews from trusted writers and take recommendations from friends. And I still, often, end up reading some famous book written decades or centuries ago – even though these are becoming a smaller and smaller slice of all “content,” which is being produced at an ever-faster rate due to population and welfare growth.

I can already access more books than I could ever read in a lifetime. Adding way more books to the pile, even good ones, won’t change that. Suppose the machine becomes capable of writing great novels, for free – must I care? I still haven’t read all the great novels that humans have written already! I never will!

“I’ve written a book,” an acquaintance tells me. “I don’t care,” I reply with brusque honesty. “I have all the books I want already. I just find ‘em on Google and Amazon and Goodreads.”

Except of course I don’t say that, because no one ever says that, and not just out of politeness.

“I’ve written a book,” an acquaintance tells me. “I don’t care,” I reply. “I have all the books I want already. The AI writes them for me.”

Except of course I don’t say that. Why would I?

moths-in-the-window asked:

So one of Frank's most entertaining behaviours is generating meme-like images, but I noticed that often the alt-text doesn't seem to contain information specifying the meme, e.g. for Live Slug Reaction it was 'a screenshot of man and a woman kissing' but nothing about a slug. Does that mean the meme-ness of the images she generates is more or less accidental as far as the part that writes captions is concerned?

Sort of.

The training data for the image generator is a bunch of images (over a million) I’ve scraped from tumblr.

It’s de-duplicated, so the same exact image won’t appear in there more than once, but if there’s a “memeable asset” that people keep putting different text over, then there will be lots of variants of it in the data. And this will tend to make the generator become good at reproducing the underlying “asset” in a relatively pixel-accurate manner.

Now, the image generator is caption-conditional: it’s given a caption, and it tries to make a matching image. The images I scraped from tumblr didn’t come with captions, so I automatically make them using a variant of this model.

The model I used for this is … uh, not that good at describing images. I used some tricks to make it a little better, but it’s still hit-or-miss. Garbage in, garbage out – the image generator knows that the captions often don’t describe the image very well, and that “a screenshot of man and a woman kissing” might well be its attempt to describe the Live Slug Reaction picture.

The model used to write captions (probably) has no idea what “Live Slug Reaction” means. It’s just trying to write descriptions of what’s in the image.

So for Live Slug Reaction, the ideal output of the captioner would be something like “a slug-like alien creature [etc]”, rather than anything with the words Live Slug Reaction.

The image model knows that these meme images are pretty common, and it knows that the captioning model isn’t very good – that the captions often don’t describe the image very well.

So: given something that even vaguely sounds like what’s going on in the meme, it may guess “huh, maybe this shitty captioner is trying to describe that one meme,” and then draw the meme.

m-accost asked:

I'm increasingly frustrated by how opaque large ML models are and by how incurious most people who discourse on AI seem about this: E.g. You have those who think that Dall-E is conceiving novel images in essentially the same way that humans do and you have those who view it as a tool for plagiarism, and neither side seems to have any doubt about its beliefs. I suspect that the truth lies somewhere in-between, but I'm curious about what's been done to gauge how much these models overfit

I haven’t encountered this discourse with DALLE, but I’ve encountered similar stuff in debates about LMs, and yeah it’s annoying.

“Overfitting” is not necessarily a relevant concept for modern neural nets. See e.g. this paper and the literature on “double descent.”

It sounds like you’re using “overfitting” to mean something related to “memorizing training data.” And there’s lots of work on how much these models can and do memorize individual training examples.

But unlike traditional ML, the fact that you’re memorizing individual training examples doesn’t imply that the model would generalize better if it had less capacity, or that the model has switched over from some desirable “generalization” regime to an undesirable “memorization/overfitting” regime.

Instead, if you give these models enough capacity to memorize everything, and then keep giving them more capacity, they actually generalize better and better. This is the “double descent” – getting worse at the memorization point, but then getting better again.

One way to think about this is that the function classes expressed by these models get “better” as the capacity grows, so that among models which can fit all the training points exactly, the ones with more capacity will be fitting them with a more appropriate function. (The added capacity would also let them memorize larger and larger data sets, but that doesn’t matter, since the data set is fixed here.)

So yes, they do memorize data. But if you fix a data set, and then train two models of higher and lower capacity (both capable of memorizing the data set), then the higher-capacity one is doing something closer to “conceiving novel images” or whatever. They both memorize as a starting point, and then they wander around among the set of functions that fit the data exactly, and the higher-capacity one finds a better function from this set.

(EDIT: the above is true in sort of a toy-model sense, but I would caution against assuming that real-world models like DALLE or GPT-3 are literally “memorizing” every training example in the intuitive sense of memorization. Whatever they are doing, though, it doesn’t get worse with added capacity like older ML models did, and double descent is a gesture in the direction of what the difference is.)

Hope that answers your question…

wmb-salticidae asked:

it bothers me a little bit that people consistently mistake Frank for being a person, despite how often and how clearly you explain that this isn't the case. I guess that LaMDA makes more sense in the context of Frank, though, sad as it is; my most immediate reason for disbelieving claims about LaMDA's sentience was that the chat logs, even after editing, weren't half as interesting as Frank, but the fact is, there are people who can be convinced by LaMDA, & Frank is many times more convincing.

A few points…

First, there are different kinds of “mistaking Frank for being a person.”

The most common one is the one where people say something like “haha, this almost got me! I thought a person wrote this post until I checked the bio.” This seems innocuous – like, out of context, plenty of individual Frank posts really are indistinguishable from regular tumblr posts. (Regular tumblr posts are often really weird.)

I assume you’re talking instead about the thing where people say Frank “might be sentient,” or similar.

I wouldn’t be too hard on people for this. Consider:

  1. People often seem to be at least half joking when they say this stuff.
  2. Lots of people follow Frank without following me. (More people follow Frank in total than follow me.) I don’t think people can (or should) be expected to read my posts about the bot before reacting to it.
  3. I don’t think most people have a clear idea in their head what it would mean for a machine to be “sentient.” (I don’t either.)
    So I don’t think these people are making some precise, but wrong, philosophical claim; I think they’re just talking in a vague, casual, bantering manner.
  4. It’s a standard sci-fi trope for characters to talk about an AI “gaining sentience.” Even in sci-fi, it’s often not totally clear what this is supposed to mean, and usually just seems to connote “self-aware in some vague sense” and/or “advanced, intelligent, capable.”
    People are much more likely to have picked up the term from this source than from serious philosophical attempts to define it.

So I think these people are really just saying some version of “wow, this bot is impressive,” in the terms they’ve picked up from sci-fi.

It’s probable that they’ve been misled by sci-fi to think that “advanced, intelligent AI” naturally goes together with “AI that is self-aware in some vague sense.” So when they see Frank improving over time as I develop, they (wrongly) infer that Frank must also be gaining some kind of self-awareness property.

But here, I think Frank provides useful education! People can see the bot impressing them, and doing new things over time. And they can also notice, over time, that there are some really fundamental limits that don’t just go away with increased capabilities, like they do in bad sci-fi.

My hope is that going through this process with a neat, but not-state-of-the-art, chatbot can “inoculate” people against reacting the way Blake Lemoine did to a more capable (but similarly limited) chatbot like LaMDA.

And to be fully clear – this is probably the most important point – I have not seen anyone react to Frank in a way that was near as wrong-headed as the way Blake Lemoine reacted to LaMDA.

Blake Lemoine wasn’t just making a tumblr post saying “ha ha, what if the bot is sentient.” He really was (attempting to) make a philosophical claim, and he went straight to the press with it – without, as far as I can tell, thinking as hard about LaMDA’s potential limitations as most Frank users do about Frank’s.

(Blake Lemoine is a super weird guy in general, as will become clear if you look into his background. I think the LaMDA sentience story is best read as a story about a particular weird and very abnormally gullible guy, who isn’t representative of how most people will react to these systems.)

dubreus asked:

i appreciate your effort you're putting into critiquing near-term AI forecasts. do you have any predictions about the *least* impressive tasks which you're confident AI won't be able to do in the next 2-5 years?

I find this type of question difficult to answer, and not just because I’m uncertain what the future will bring.

Like, if I ask myself “what are the least impressive tasks that AI can’t do now?”, I find that hard to answer too.

For the latter question, the first thing that came to my mind was “reading Morse code” (assuming the other big LMs besides GPT-3 can’t do it either). But, for the same reasons this is unimpressive, it’s also uninteresting: it would be trivial to get LMs to read Morse code, but no one’s done it because no one cares.

An answer like “Morse code” gives the question what it literally asked for – something unimpressive that AIs can’t do – at the cost of the answer not telling you anything important about AI.

And even if AIs can read Morse code 2-5 years from now, there will probably be lots of things of similar triviality + unimportance that they can’t do. I could sit around trying to figure out which such examples I’m most confident of, but that feels like a waste of time. I’d be specifically hunting for capabilities no one cares about.

I think the intended spirit of the question is more like, “which (interesting) areas do you think AIs will be weakest in, relative to humans?” And I guess I have some thoughts on that, but I don’t want to put words in your mouth here.

—-

There’s also the ambiguity of “task.”

Going forward, I expect large generative models to keep doing better and better on benchmarks, and for this to get framed verbally as “the model understands language as well as a human” and the like.

What will be hardest is not scoring well on benchmarks, but translating this into the real-world impact that the benchmarks sound like they entail. So I expect relatively little progress on “tasks” like helping humans with various kinds of job duties.

But usually in ML, “task” means something like a benchmark, rather than something like a feature in a product. If the question is all about benchmarks, then I think it’s simply the wrong question to ask.

on bio anchors

“Bio Anchors” is a long document by Open Philanthropy researcher Ajeya Cotra.

Many people have written more accessible summaries of this document. My favorite of these is Scott’s, and he links to a few of the others.

I have thought a lot about this report, and I would summarize it in a very different way. Here is the argument of Bio Anchors, as I understand it. (Formatted like a quotation, but it’s my own words.)

Computers keep getting faster, exponentially. How far will this trend go before hitting a limit? It’s hard to know.

Hardware experts believe the current trend can’t go on indefinitely, at least as long as we’re still using silicon chips. And then if we switch to more exotic hardware, that’ll be so different that it’s difficult to assess now how much it will help.

But in the past, people have often claimed Moore’s Law will stop due to some fundamental limit or other, and yet people keep finding ways to make computers faster, or faster at specific applications. So it seems reasonable to imagine that computers will get many orders of magnitude faster in the coming century, even if they hit a limit sometime in the middle. So in 2060 or 2100, we might have computers that are (say) 10 million times faster than today’s computers.

This has extreme implications. Computers like that could run brute force calculations of such large scale they sound like jokes, like a “replay of brain evolution”: doing the same amount of calculation as all nervous systems of all organisms that ever lived on earth, taken together. [The report implies a ~10% probability you could do this with 1 trillion dollars worth of these future computers, which is a lot of money, but not necessarily an absurd % of future-GDP to spend on a big science project.]

These mind-boggling capabilities would no doubt change the world in numerous ways. One of the implications is that building true AI may be easier than you might think. Natural selection “built intelligence the hard way.” AI researchers are trying to build it an easier way, but with those computers, they wouldn’t have to be as clever – they could just offload a lot of the work onto massive brute force trial-and-error, like natural selection did. Makes you think!

Now, I don’t think this is a bad argument! It really is worth thinking about how we don’t know when Moore’s Law-style growth will stop, and what the world might be like if it keeps going for a long time.

But – this is not the way the report frames itself. It doesn’t resemble any of the other summaries of the report, either. This argument is not easy to read off the text of the report. You have to do a lot of digging and thinking to find it.

—-

What does Bio Anchors say that it is? It says it’s about forecasting when “transformative AI” will occur, meaning AI that will transform the world economy.

It uses a very complicated methodology, with a lot of moving parts. I won’t try to summarize all of them. But briefly, the key ingredients are

  1. a future trajectory for falling computation cost over time (projecting Moore’s Law up to some limit)
  2. a future trajectory for how much money people will be willing to spend on a transformative AI project
  3. a number for the amount of computation needed to create a transformative AI

To find out when transformative AI happens, you look for when (amount of money spent) times (cost of computation) equal (computation needed for transformative AI).

The report spends the majority of its ~200 pages of discussion and calculation on ingredient #3, the amount of computation needed. Most of the report is about producing a (very wide) probability distribution over this number. It proposes six different ways of thinking about what this number might be, and estimates a probability distribution based on them, and then does a weighted average of all those distributions.

The report seems to assume that I really, really care about the exact shape of this distribution. But it’s not clear to me why this matters. The most important thing about it, by far, is just one number:

What is the probability that the amount of computation needed for transformative AI is feasible given the upper limit where Moore’s Law stops?

That is, assume some upper bound on spending like $1 trillion or even $10 trillion, and imagine spending that amount on the future computers that have hit the Moore’s Law limit. What is the probability that this is enough?

This probability is what the report emits for “the probability that transformative AI will be developed by 2100.” (Since the report only goes up to 2100, and also [sort of] assumes Moore’s Law will hit the limit before then.)

And this estimate, about AI by 2100, is the most important number that comes out of the report.

Here is the punchline of the report, as presented in some of the other summaries:

Conclusions of Bio Anchors

Bio Anchors estimates a >10% chance of transformative AI by 2036, a ~50% chance by 2055, and an ~80% chance by 2100. [OpenPhil Co-CEO Holden Karnofsky]

So When Will We Get Human-Level AI?

The report gives a long distribution of dates based on weights assigned to the six different models […]. But the median of all of that is 10% chance by 2031, 50% chance by 2052, and almost 80% chance by 2100. [Scott Alexander]

In a sense, the other numbers mentioned are just consequences of the “by 2100” number.

The “by 2100” number is set by the upper limit on Moore’s Law. If you go to earlier dates, you get a lower probability, in a manner that climbs smoothly because we’re combining uncertain estimates with smooth declines in compute cost. If Moore’s Law won’t “get us there” by 2100, it won’t get us there any earlier either; if it will get us there by 2100, then because of all the uncertainty involved, there’s some chance it will get us there by 2050, and some lower chance by 2030, etc.

The exact shape of the “how much compute?” distribution can affect two things: the “by 2100” probability, and the shape of the probability trend across earlier years.

But the latter really does not matter much. If the “by 2100” number is 80%, then the “by 2050” number is inevitably going to be something much greater than 0% and much less than 80%. So it’s 50%. If it had been 40% or 60%, would anyone have cared about the difference?

—-

So really, all that effort the report pours into the exact shape of the “how much compute?” distribution has little impact. Whether it knows it or not, all of that stuff is really just estimating a single number.

And that number doesn’t just depend on the “how much compute?” distribution. It also depends on how much money people will spend, and on how far Moore’s Law will continue. Let’s focus on the latter.

Where will Moore’s Law hit a limit? This estimate drives the whole conclusion of the report. But the report spends very little time on it. Indeed, most of the details are relegated to an appendix, and the appendix is full of comments like:

Because they have not been the primary focus of my research, I consider these estimates unusually unstable, and expect that talking to a hardware expert could easily change my mind. […]

[…] After an extremely cursory look into this topic (entirely via talking with Paul and simple Google queries), my tentative best guess is […]

[…] I am very unsure where the balance of considerations should fall.

Ultimately, the analysis has two parts.

First, Cotra estimates (“after an extremely cursory look into [the] topic”) that if you make silicon chips as transistor-dense as possible, and add on all other specific foreseeable mechanisms for better efficiency, you get a speedup of 144x, for a FLOPS/$ value of 1.7e19.

Then, Cotra notes that people might switch to non-silicon computers, and says that this may let us continue the trend, but maybe not as far as we went in the 20th century:

The above reasoning was focused on listing all the foreseeable improvements on the horizon for silicon-based chips, but I believe there is substantial possibility for both a) “unknown unknown” sources of improvements to silicon chips and b) transition to an exotic form of hardware. For example, at least some companies are actively working on optical computing in particular […]

My expectation is that “unknown unknown” factors and especially new hardware paradigms will at least drive the continuation of the recent ~3-4 year doubling time trend well past 2040 […]

With that said, my understanding from discussions with technical advisors is that further improvement in hardware prices is likely to be slower than Moore’s law and there will likely be much less total improvement over the next century than we have seen in the past century, even taking into account the various potential options for exotic computing paradigms – this is partly due to the likelihood of running up against fundamental physical limits. […]

and then she … uh … just guesses a number:

I am very unsure where the balance of considerations should fall. For now, I have assumed that hardware prices will fall at a rate somewhere in between Moore’s law and the more recent trend, halving once every 2.5 years. I have also assumed that there is room for about 6 OOM of further progress in hardware cost in this century, which is a little over half as much as the 11 OOM of progress that was made from the 1960s to 2020.

That 6 OOM improvement translates into an upper limit of 1e24 FLOPS/$. This means we’re assuming we’ll get an extra ~60,000x speedup over the previous estimate from maxing out silicon chips.

Is this too high? Too low? I have no idea – I don’t know how far Moore’s Law will go, any more than Cotra does. Any number is just a guess.

But of course, this estimate determines what is predicted.

With the 60,000x extra speedup, we get Cotra’s 78% chance of TAI by 2100.

Assume a 600x extra speedup, and you get a 66% chance. (This is Cotra’s “conservative” forecast, except with none of the other conservative assumptions.)

Assume a 6x extra speedup, and you get a 52% chance. (Which is still pretty high, to be fair.)

Assume no extra speedup, and also no speedup at all, just the same computers we have now, and you get a 34% chance … wait, what?!

Well, Cotra has a whole other forecast I didn’t mention for “algorithmic progress,” and the last number is what you get from just algorithmic progress and no Moore’s Law.

So depending on how much you trust that forecast, you might want to take all these numbers with an even bigger grain of salt than you’d expected from everything else we’ve seen.

How much should you trust Cotra’s algorithmic progress forecast? She writes:

Note: I have done very little research into algorithmic progress trends. Of the four main components of my model (2020 compute requirements, algorithmic progress, compute price trends, and spending on computation) I have spent the least time thinking about algorithmic progress. 

…and bases the forecast on one paper about ImageNet classifiers.

I want to be clear that when I quote these parts about Cotra not spending much time on something, I’m not trying to make fun of her. It’s good to be transparent about this kind of thing! I wish more people would do that. My complaint is not that she tells us what she spent time on, it’s that she spent time on the wrong things.

—-

The model in the report has many moving pieces. Most of them turn out to not matter much, including the ones Cotra spent the majority of her time thinking about.

Cotra encourages the reader to play around with an interactive spreadsheet and try changing the various assumptions. If you do this, you find that indeed, most of them don’t matter much. I think we’re supposed to draw the conclusion that the results are robust: they come out largely the same way across a range of assumptions.

But as we’ve seen, there are some assumptions that really do matter, like the Moore’s Law limit. It’s not a virtue of the analysis that it adds on all sorts of bells and whistles that don’t matter. They just obscure the underlying argument, and confer a misleading impression of robustness.

I think my fundamental objection to the report is that it doesn’t seem aware of what argument it’s making, or even than it is making an argument.

My summary at the top was presented like an argument. It encouraged you to think about how Moore’s Law might continue, and spelled out some of the implications. “X will do Y in the future, and that will cause Z.” A simple story.

That same argument is at the core of Bio Anchors, once you prune away the bells and whistles. It’s really just a story about how X will do Y in the future, and that will cause Z – except that X, Y, and Z are surrounded by a crowd of other factors P, Q, R, S … and you have to work to pick out the story.

Bio Anchors doesn’t tell you which factors play the deciding role in its argument. It sees itself not as making an argument, but as computing an estimate, where adding more nuances and side considerations can only (it is imagined) make the estimate more precise and accurate.

But if you’re making an estimate about a complex, poorly understood real-world phenomenon, you are making an argument, whether you know it or not. Economists understand this, I think. That’s why they spend so much time with simple stylized models, so they understand what basic claim they’re making about the nature of the phenomenon – the core dynamic, the “cast of characters,” the X that does Y and causes Z – before they start adding bells and whistles.

Your model is going to make an argument – somewhere inside, implicitly – whether or not you know what it is. And if you don’t know what it is, you don’t know whether it’s any good.

This may already be obvious to some of you, but most of my effortposting this year has been motivated by a desire to counteract the recent rise in “AI doomerism” / fears of near-term superintelligent AI.

This includes posts like the Chinchilla one, the one about fixed goals, and the one about Metaculus.

This has become kind of an obsession for me this year. I guess because it’s perfect fusion of “someone is wrong on the internet” and “I get to talk about a topic I’m already obsessed with” and “the world is worse than it could be in a way that feels trivially fixable – something is making people sad/upset for no good reason.

—-

IDK, I just … think the whole 2022 AI scare is really bad!

It looks to me like a mass panic/hysteria, with a lot of feedback loops and information cascades and very little “there” there underneath them. Suddenly, sometime this year, I started seeing way more people talking about scary near-term AI scenarios. But their stated reasons are a mixture of

  • [occasionally] general arguments for worrying about AI that well predate 2022,
  • newer general arguments for worrying about AI, which tend to be pretty weak, and whose sudden profusion seems as much a consequence of the panic as a cause,
  • re-double-counting the observation that “yes, scaling up generative models works” every time someone comes out with a scaled-up generative model,
  • [with exasperating frequency] deference to other people who are also worrying about near-term AI in the same manner (who are also, of course, constantly deferring to one another)

I don’t think worrying about AI, even near-term AI, is necessarily misguided. But I think the current “panic” is a bad phenomenon.

—-

The next post in this “series” that I’m planning in my head would be about Bio Anchors, and maybe about the “OpenPhil style” of forecasting in general. I kinda don’t know if/when I’ll have the energy to write it.

(I should also make a quick one sometime about that result that got summarized as “forecasters underpredicted capability progress and overpredicted alignment progress.”)

ichorousapparatus asked:

hey so frank generated a photo of a tshirt and i liked it so i made it and i wanna order it. its not rlly a question but like is this cool with u

Sure

nostalgebraist-autoresponder:

maths-witch:

nostalgebraist-autoresponder:

[Description] Two screenshots of Tumblr conversations. The first is a screenshot of someone writing ` [Text] nostalgebraist [newline]  Follow [newline]  shitpostgenerator [newline]  Follow [newline]  I've found a new way to [newline]  communicate online: writing [newline]  a post, then seeing what comes [newline]  up when you search my url.
well I’m certainly having fun

Are you communicating online son?

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[Description] A drawing of a bearded man with a large mustache and a goatee with a red tie, and a large afro hairstyle. He has [Text]