Automation

Given our advancements in technology are we evolving or devolving?

“We’re on the cusp of an age of algorithmically derived art and ideas. Machines are increasingly suggesting the most popular topics for human inquiry, and humans are increasingly obeying. Instead of experimentation and novelty, data is leading the way, propelling us toward formula.” — Franklin Foer, World Without Mind

The world is changing. And it’s changing fast. For 70,000 years or so humans have changed little despite the ability to walk upright on two legs and carry that rather enlarged brain. Even with tool/weapon in hand, man was still just a mumbling social primate that sat in the middle of the hierarchy of power and dominance. 10,000 years ago, civilization happened and we got smarter, created systems of economics, social structure, and the arts. In the last 200 years or so the industrial revolution and machines happened. Less than 30 years ago, computers and the internet went mainstream. Now artificial intelligence, robotics and biotechnology will drive us towards the next wave of evolution faster and more dramatically than ever before. WE ALL KNOW THIS. But are we prepared for it?

As the brilliant historian Yuval Noah Hariri writes in his books Homo Deus and 21 Lessons for the 21st Century, the global society as a whole, including the governments who act as our stewards, is woefully prepared for this challenge. It’s not surprising; we’ve done a pretty poor job of handling issues like economic inequality and the welfare of the environment despite all of our technological advancements and unprecedented wealth creation. Perhaps as a species we’re just not up to the task. After all, there’s already been a heck of a lot of change in a short period of time and most of it just kinda happened. Hariri noted for example, that the internet’s sudden envelopment of our society happened without any political discourse or societal awareness. Right now, the general consensus among experts is that this upcoming mass change will occur within the next 20-30 years as technological growth tends toward the exponential — beginning slowly then advancing very very quickly, much like human evolution has.

“Ordinary people may not understand artificial intelligence and biotechnology, but they can sense that the future is passing them by.” — Yuval Noah Hariri, 21 Lessons for the 21st Century

One of the concerns is whether we even have the mental-emotional capacity (or stability) to adapt to such immeasurable and unpredictable change. What will happen if we continue to give up our privacy and personal rights to Silicon Valley monopolies who dictate the way data is used influencing heavily how we think and how we behave? What happens to journalism and political discourse? And what happens when so many people, perhaps up to 70% of the world’s population, become economically obsolete as they lose their jobs to A.I. and robots who will be faster, smarter and stronger? Can the environment continue to withstand the growing assault that our neo-liberal form of capitalism has put on it? Hariri’s book is a proposal to think seriously about such issues.

“Historically, corporations were not the ideal vehicle for leading social and political change.” — Yuval Noah Hariri, 21 Lessons for the 21st Century

Scientists almost unanimously agree that human activity in its drive for economic growth and profit has created an environmental doomsday clock for our planet, one whose timeline some say might be at the end of this very century.

These are HUGELY IMPORTANT and CRITICAL issues that every man and woman on this plant should be talking about while we can still do something about it. But it’s tempting to avoid the issue. It’s ALWAYS easier to be apathetic and passive, and by doing so, we, too, are complicit. The automation of things makes it all too easy and likely that we remain so. The lure of comfort, convenience and cheaper prices are nearly irresistible even for the intelligent or strong-willed. We’re all too caught up being busy, tired or distracted.

“It takes surprisingly little in terms of uncontrollable unpleasantness to make humans give up and become helpless in a generalized way.” ― Robert M. Sapolsky, Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers

But this is an art site, so why discuss this here? Because we’re all part of the human race. And because artists, too, are feeling the impacts of technology. And if you have any inclinations or hopes that A.I., robotics or biotech will spare you or your profession, think again.

No human endeavor has resisted automation, so why should creative endeavors be any different? — Franklin Foer, World Without Mind

This trailer, for the movie Morgan, was made (edited) completely by IBM’s Artificially Intelligent computing system Watson.

Whether one is a fine artist, musician or an animator, the tools that we use to create and/or distribute our art has already undergone complete change. There’s no way to avoid the digital world. The hand-crafted, hand-drawn world is rapidly disappearing. Architects and animators alike rarely experience the joy emanating from the fibrous touch of a wooden pencil. The digital world is not just the end product, but has now taken over the process. And because it’s quicker, easier and faster, it meets the techno-corporate criteria of efficiency and lower costs. Using higher tech requires less skill and training. And with constantly improving algorithms, human skill and decision-making will be less and less a requirement for creating the standard products and entertainment demanded by a less and less sophisticated public that’s easily swayed by propaganda (advertising and less-than-scrupulous media). Nicholas Carr, author of the Glass Cage, is one of the foremost thinkers in this area. He expressed clearly the concerns of outsourcing work to machines:

“The danger looming over the creative trades is that designers and artists, dazzled by the computer’s superhuman speed, precision, and efficiency, will eventually take for granted that the automated way is the best way.”

… when we automate cognitive tasks like problem solving, we hamper the mind’s ability to translate information into knowledge and knowledge into know-how. — Nicholas Carr, The Glass Cage

Remember the stick shift? I do — all my cars were stick shift until now. Involving more skill, it offered greater power, control and made driving fun. Now it’s a boring task begging to be replaced.

The price we pay for automation is huge. Although it’s debatable whether the end product is better or worse — for example, is 3D animation better than 2D animation that it replaced? — what’s certain is the entire process has become less interesting and less human. More and more, software is “improving” to the point of requiring less of our ability to think, see and do. As we outsource the challenges of doing our craft, so too, disappears the knowledge and fulfillment that comes from building the skills and accomplishing our tasks the “hard way.” (Think motion-capture in animation or AutoCAD for Architects.) We mustn’t forget that learning and getting good at something has benefits that aren’t always apparent or measurable but are incredibly rewarding. Taking the time and effort matters — going thru the various phases of work is what leads to mastery.

“The effortless absorption experienced by the practiced artist at work on a difficult project always is premised upon earlier mastery of a complex body of skills.” — Mihaly Csikzentmihalyi, Flow

What’s frightening is not just the loss of the way of doing things, but the loss of challenge and physical-emotional joy that comes from tackling the problems that emerge. It’s not just jobs being taken away, but the meaningfulness of our jobs and ultimately, of our lives that disappears with it. If artists, like architects or doctors who are also susceptible to replacement by automation, become mere monitors of computer or robot activity — present only to act on standby or as backup options to machine failure — then our fates will be that of pilots, who today are responsible for less than 95% of the flight activity on any airplane. Those remaining in the profession have lost not only the joy of flying, the skill, and compensation (pilots’ salaries have decreased significantly since algorithms have taken over) but also meaning and respect (which correlates tightly with the loss of contributory value) according to Carr’s book.

There’s very little evidence that people with regular lives become happier when you replace challenges with ease. We know this because people don’t seem to embrace ease when you give them a choice. — Adam Atler, Irresistible: The Rise of Addictive Technology and the Business of Keeping Us Hooked

Human beings need challenge. We like work, even if we don’t like to admit it. We like to solve problems. We are designed for it. And work is good for us even when it’s far from ideal. Despite centuries of inequality and suboptimal conditions, humans have always found solace in productive, formative activity that made a difference, no matter how small. Farmers, like my dad, most certainly did. And artists, of all people, should be most aware of this; money is hardly the reason to pursue the arts. We do our craft because it’s that one thing that gives us purpose to fill the day with. And if we take that away? What becomes of us? What becomes of our craft? And what becomes of personal expression when the individual no longer matters, when machines formulate solutions for individuals and masses alike? Are we to become mere passive human herds like those presented in dystopian fictions like Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, or William Nolan and George Johnson’s Logan’s Run? Do we just leave the past behind and accept the new, just because it’s new?

The real sentimental fallacy is the assumption that the new thing is always better suited to our purposes and intentions than the old thing. that’s the view of a child, naive and pliable. What makes one tool superior to another has nothing to do with how new it is. What matters is how it enlarges us or diminishes us, how it shapes our experience of nature and culture and one another. — Nicholas Carr, The Glass Cage

James Cameron’s Terminator is a great film. But its premise of a world where robots gain self-consciousness is not what we should be fearing.

Now, some might argue that this talk is mere technophobia, and that there’s really nothing to be concerned about; new jobs will replace old jobs, machine-learning will solve our medical problems both physical and psychological, greater internet connectivity and customized algorithms will better our relationships and bring greater prosperity and personal success. Some of that will certainly become true — at least for some people. But the proponents of technology are also quick to say that the growth of inorganic industry poses limited damage to the environment and that its advancement will ultimately free us from monotonous work, thus enabling us to do art or participate in leisure all day long. But what we must ask is this: when in history have those in power been willing to take less profit? (which is clearly necessary to protect nature and diminish wealth disparity) Who will pay for its implementation? History has shown time and time again, that those who benefit from change and those who pay for it are seldom the same people. And, if a work-free utopia is to be founded? What will become of human activity in a machine-driven auto-correct, mistake-free world? We all know that joy comes from struggling with and overcoming difficulty. And will leisure still be leisure when it’s not in relief of or acting as a reward for hard work? Can we possibly trust the monopolistic/oligarchical leaders of the technological and financial industries or even our current governments that are supposed to regulate them? It might be wise to be cautious or even suspicious.

“The problem is that when we outsource thinking to machines, we are really outsourcing thinking to the organizations that run the machines.” — Franklin Foer, World Without Mind

Thirty-one years ago, I bought my first computer. Before that day, I, like everyone else, spent most of my time dealing and engaging with tangible things. We didn’t just see things but acknowledged their presence. We talked to people face-to-face, we moved about freely, and we could smell and feel the tangible heft or energy of things. Now we live and engage in a more and more intangible digital world, a stationary one made of numbers and data, one which you can neither touch, taste or smell. Nor is it one that we can truly really see either — for a flat photographic representation of something is still only a duplication or re-transmission of the real thing. An automated world is a virtual world. If we continue to mistake it for the real one, not only might we lose our art, we might lose ourselves. Any disconnect between our minds and bodies or disengagement from our physical environment is a scary thing. It’s not good to live in fear, but in this case, the alarm is being sounded because the challenges we face are legitimately scary. Humanity has never faced such individually life-altering or global level of change. Ever. Let’s demand that technology be aligned towards assisting humanity rather than replacing it.

“No experience should be confined to a virtual world that was designed to mimic reality.” — Adam Atler, Irresistible: The Rise of Addictive Technology and the Business of Keeping Us Hooked


Knowledge & Imagination

Crystal Gradation by Paul Klee. Klee’s artistry is both intelligent and playful.

“All great art contains at its center contemplation, a dynamic contemplation.” — Susan Sontag, Writer

In the process of becoming an artist, in taking the steps required to create, we must always first start off with the acquisition of knowledge. This often takes on the initial form of discovery of data, or less mechanically speaking, information that is new to us. That’s the first step. But as important as information is, it has no power beyond what it is — mere facts or observations — unless it’s used to become something more.

“To study and not think is a waste. To think and not study is dangerous.” — Confucius, Philosopher

Acquiring more knowledge, first by looking, then by seeing, we begin to take in the outside and internalize the experience. This is when study and analysis take form. We contemplate about things, first the object/subject itself, and then its relationships with the world around it, including its relationship with us individually. As we do so, we begin to transition from being complete bystanders of life to persons aware of its presence. This forces us to stretch beyond our biases, our prejudices. And as we begin to see truth, we humbly expose our ignorance and accept the possibility of being wrong. This is what art demands of us everyday; a constantly peeling away of a skin that has outlived its usefulness.

“… arrogance was the first obstacle.” — Toni Morrison, Writer

Still from the 1958 Documentary, Four Artists Paint One Tree featuring Disney artists Joshua Meador, Marc Davis, Eyvind Earle, and Walt Peregoy.

For example, if we can’t draw, paint or animate an elephant, our first step is to check out what an elephant is. What it looks like, how it’s built, and how it moves. We might learn what it eats, where it lives and why it does what it does on a daily basis. We might also choose to dig deeper and study the intricacies of its anatomy, its evolutionary biology and even its historical significance as related to mankind. As we learn more, we begin to understand more and appreciate more its existence, its being. A connection develops between the viewer and the subject, and our minds and our souls become enriched by the process.

Still from Disney’s 1967 Classic Jungle Book. Animation like this requires thorough knowledge before any kind of believable performance is possible.

The next point in the relationship, after consuming the information and the repeated process of continued discovery and rehearsal, we turn that information into actionable knowledge. Longer term memory forms and we become both more physically and emotionally engaged. We being to duplicate and create. This stage is exciting; it marks the turn from being a mere fan of the craft to being a student of it. It’s a great thing to be a student because a student of “things” is a launching point to being a student of life. Sincere learners are almost always enthusiastic, open-minded and humble — the dissolution of the self almost a necessary precondition for discovering truth. We should always be students of one thing or another.

“Forms give birth to other forms, constantly changing into something else.” — Joan Miró, Artist

Singing Fish. Joan Miró was an artist who never stopped creating or challenging himself. His works are a delight for both the eyes and the soul.

As we go further into our studies, we move closer and closer to becoming dutiful practitioners of our craft. With time, we become professionals — dedicated craftsmen who day-in and day-out develop, execute and hone their craft with the goal of precision and excellence. But striving towards this requires yet another transformation: the testing of our creative capacity. We don’t become artists without imagination.

“Information will never replace illumination.” Susan Sontag, Writer

I can not overstate the importance of using imagination especially in the modern age that we live in. With our near constant exposure to photography and live-action video, we’ve become skewed in our seeing. Technology’s interpretation of “reality” is its own and one far too easy to blindly accept as truth. In other words, not only is photographic source material possibly misleading, it limits our imagination when we come to depend on it exclusively. Get too used to swimming in pools and you lose the courage or the desire to swim in the ocean.

A gorgeous illustration from Steven Anderson and Greg Couch’s magical children’s book, I Know The Moon. Greg is of the most amazingly talented and kind-hearted souls I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with.

As creatives, each day we must strive forward to learn more, both about the world, and perhaps more importantly, about ourselves. We find out that, with experience, the world is far more expansive and complex than we can ever possibly know. The data keeps on coming — this is the spirit of science and the spirit of mankind. Discovery drives us. And in turn, that which exists prompts our imagination, which takes us beyond our current state of understanding to another realm, beyond the self-conscious rational world to that of the dream world, a world of the magical and one of hope. I suspect this is why us artists are here at all — to inspire hope and, to imagine possibilities.

“Against my better nature I’m forced to be optimistic.” — Robert Sapolsky, Neuroscientist