ARTS & IDEAS
The Soul of the Next New
Machine: Humans
How the Wedding of Brain
and Computer
Could Change the Universe
By ROB FIXMER
When
Ray Kurzweil discusses human destiny, it is
not always clear whether he's talking about
technology or theology.
It is technology that
defines his résumé;
he
has spent 34 of his 51
years inventing
ingenious uses for
artificial intelligence.
But like a priest
caught playing in a
physics lab, he keeps
coming up with
inventions inspired by
aesthetics and social
conscience.
For instance, when he
was still in high
school, he wrote a
program that composed music,
while his latest
software, available at his
Web site, writes poetry. In
between he created machines
that read to the blind,
software that draws and
paints, electronic keyboards
that produce the sounds
of acoustical instruments and
one of the most advanced
and commercially successful
forms of computer speech
recognition.
All were concrete products
of a restless mind
consumed by the question
of what will be. A more
abstract product of that
vision is his latest book, "The
Age of the Spiritual Machine:
When Computers Exceed
Human Intelligence" (Viking,
1999). In it, he looks at
the exponential increase
in calculating power since the
turn of the century and
concludes that within 50 years,
machines will not only be
smarter than humans but also
smart enough to persuade
us that they are conscious
beings in their own right.
That assertion, not surprisingly,
has drawn the wrath of
several prominent philosophers
who question his
definitions of both intelligence
and consciousness.
John R. Searle, the renowned
University of California
at Berkeley professor of
philosophy, wrote in The New
York Review of Books that
the fatal flaw in
"Kurzweil's entire argument"
is that "it rests on the
assumption that the main
thing humans do in their lives
is compute." In a phone
interview this week he added:
"Kurzweil's proposals are
preposterous science. I think
he got a little carried
away and made massive
philosophical errors, too."
But while the debates about
what defines intelligence
and consciousness have gained
the most public
attention, the far more
compelling idea in the book is
his prediction that our
progeny -- if not some of us alive
today -- are destined to
be human-machine hybrids.
Based on current trends
in computer and biological
sciences, he says that a
superpowered intelligence will
result from such a hybrid.
The merging of human brains
and computer circuits, he
asserts, will enable the
species to redesign itself
and determine not just its own
destiny but the fate of
the universe. To become, in other
words, God-like.
"In my view," Kurzweil writes
in the book's
conclusion, "the primary
issue is not the mass of the
universe or the possible
existence of antigravity or of
Einstein's so-called cosmological
constant. Rather the
fate of the universe is
a decision yet to be made, one
which we will intelligently
consider when the time is
right."
In his review Searle writes
in an
amazed tone: "Kurzweil does
not
think he is writing a work
of science
fiction or a parody or satire.
He is
making serious claims that
he thinks
are based on solid scientific
results."
Over dinner at a Boston hotel,
Kurzweil insisted, "This
stuff isn't
science fiction." His voice
was soft,
almost emotionless, but
the ideas
emerged fully formed, articulated
with machinelike precision.
On this night, he was clearly
multi-tasking -- answering
questions and expounding
on complex technologies
without so much as a pause
for a breath, his eyes all the
while parsing the salmon
entree before him. (He takes
eating very seriously indeed.
His previous book, "The
10 Percent Solution for
a Healthy Life," was about
nutrition, specifically
about a low-fat diet he put
together to battle his own
congenital heart disease.)
The "stuff" he's talking
about is no less than a physical
hybrid of human beings and
their technology. He says
the machines being created
today are the beginning of
our metamorphosis from thinking
mammal to
all-knowing hybrid.
Biological evolution has
already given way to much
more rapid and less random
technological evolution,
Kurzweil argues. And within
30 years, he predicts,
direct links will be established
between neurons in the
human brain and computer
circuitry. The implications
are mind-boggling. Such
links would mean that the
entire contents of a brain
could be "insubstantiated" --
copied (and preserved) in
an external database. Not
only would the brain's biological
capacity be
supplemented with enormous
amounts of digital
memory, it would also be
linked to vast information
resources like the Internet
at the speed of thought.
And it would produce, through
direct neural
stimulation, a virtual reality
indistinguishable from
objective reality.
Kurzweil cites medical treatments
in which silicon
chips have been successfully
implanted in human
brains, for example, to
alleviate symptoms of
Parkinson's disease, or
been made to communicate with
neurons, as they do in cochlear
implants for the deaf, as
examples of primitive steps
toward his predictions.
While these sorts of visions
might seem far-fetched,
other respected futurists
find Kurzweil's ideas
compelling. Marvin Minsky,
Toshiba professor of
media arts and science at
the Massachusetts Institute of
Technology, has called him
"a leading futurist of our
time," while the techno-guru
George Gilder says, "This
book makes all other roads
to the computer future look
like goat paths in Patagonia."
That Kurzweil's theories
are given a serious hearing is
testament to his credentials.
Since his teenage years he
has been harnessing computer
power to "pattern
recognition," which Kurzweil
describes as "that part of
the artificial intelligence
field where we teach
computers to recognize abstract
patterns, a capability
that dominates human thinking."
In 1965, at age 17, his
music composing program
won a Westinghouse science
award, a visit to the White
House and a spot as a
contestant on the old television
game show "I've Got a
Secret." (Young Ray's secret
stumped the former Miss
America, Bess Myerson, but
was guessed by the second
panelist, the actor Henry
Morgan.)
By the time he graduated
from M.I.T. in 1970, Kurzweil
had already achieved his
first business success, having
founded a computer database
service that helped high
school students choose the
right college. That endeavor,
which he sold for $100,000,
was followed by a string
of successful businesses
built on his inventions. Among
his best-known is the Kurzweil
reading machine for the
blind, which was a true
marvel when it was introduced.
CBS News was so impressed
with the device that
Walter Cronkite used it
to deliver his signature
sign-off, "And that's the
way it was, on Jan. 13, 1976."
Along the way, Kurzweil has
won a raft of accolades in
both business and academia
and received nine honorary
doctorates. Today, in addition
to writing his next book,
he is developing Fat Kat,
an artificial intelligence
system that applies evolutionary
algorithms to
securities investment decisions.
In Kurzweil's vision of the
future, the man-machine
hybrid will be accomplished
not through some
Frankenstein-like amalgam
but through an elegant
technology: microscopic,
self-replicating robots called
nanobots that will be introduced
through the
bloodstream and will interact
with individual neurons
throughout the brain.
"The idea," Kurzweil said,
"is to direct nanobots to
travel through every capillary
in the brain, where they
will pass in very close
proximity to every neural
feature." This, he says
will enable the tiny machines to
scan each neuron and "build
up a huge database" --
basically, the entire contents
of a brain.
"And all these nanobots would
be communicating with
each other," he said. "They'd
basically be on a wireless
network. They could also
be on the Web and
communicating with computers
maintaining the
database outside the brain."
The breakthrough in nanotechnology
came several years
ago with the discovery of
the nanotube, a carbon
molecule of enormous strength.
Just about anything can
be fabricated from nanotubes,
at many times the strength
and at a fraction of the
weight possible with
conventional materials.
What's more, nanotubes have
a far greater capacity for
raw computing power than
the commonly used silicon.
This combination of features
holds out the possibility of
building machines no larger
than a blood cell that are
fully programmable and perhaps
even able to construct
replicas of themselves from
carbon atoms.
The size of the technology
is shrinking so rapidly,
Kurzweil says, that "within
30 years, both the size and
cost of this scenario will
be feasible."
Of course, such technology
would inevitably be
accompanied by terrifying
dangers. By scanning a brain
into a database, a person's
most private thoughts and
memories would be vulnerable
to intrusions by
hackers. And wouldn't the
brain also be vulnerable to
external control of information,
thought processes and
even perceptions of reality?
"Those are real concerns,"
Kurzweil admits.
"Organizations like governments
or religious or
terrorist groups or just
clever individuals could put
nanobots in food or water
supplies, trillions of them.
These would then make their
way inside people and
would monitor their thoughts
and even could control
them and place them into
virtual environments."
But he adds: "We won't be
defenseless. We have these
concerns today at a primitive
level with Trojan horses
that make their way into
our computers."
In any case, Kurzweil says
there is no turning back.
Once evolution produced
a technological species, it
locked us into a relentless
quest for understanding and
control of our universe.
"I tend to be optimistic,
but that's more of a personal
orientation than something
I could scientifically argue
for," he admits. "There
definitely are dangers, and we
do tend to address them
imperfectly, so there is some
possibility that this will
fail."