It was on a dreary night of November, that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning; the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs.
(Shelley 2003 : 58)[i]
When we consider the subject of artificial intelligence (AI), also known as ‘machine learning’, we are confronted with a number of challenges. Firstly, the field itself is manifold, ill-defined and developing with bewildering rapidity. And secondly, as the ground shifts so violently beneath our feet, our very language, our categories, our ways of conceptualising the issues also seem to fail. We may begin to stutter and stumble. We look at concepts like the human and the non-human and wonder what they mean now and what they will mean in the future. We also look beyond the technical language of science and technology to help gauge the significance of the entry into our lives of novel entities. We look to myth, to stories, to literature and art for assistance. This essay is an attempt to place AI within a broad context of myth, literature, history and developing thought, and also to relate AI to the question of agency, human or otherwise, as well as to the very concept of the human. The hope is that this modest investigation may shed some further light upon this complex subject and perhaps in some way help us to think, talk and act.
Myths of progress
We may begin with Mary Shelley’s novel of 1818, Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus[ii], quoted above. In this work, the creature put together by Victor Frankenstein, from dead human parts, is animated and comes to life. But at the moment that the ‘man’ created by Frankenstein comes to life, his creator is appalled by what he has done, and flees (see Figure 1). Unlike God, who creates his Adam, Frankenstein does not even give his creation a name. He abandons his creation to fend for itself, or rather, for himself.
This is a much discussed work, and rightly so, and there are innumerable interpretations. But one inescapable dimension is that through science and technology, something (or someone?) has been created that escapes us and may threaten us. The ‘us’ here being humanity. And what is created is uncomfortably close to the human, and confounds our categories. In part the tragedy of Frankenstein is precisely this – that Victor Frankenstein fails to recognise himself, his own humanity, both wondrous and flawed, in his creation. Frankenstein had desired to create a man and a friend. But in not recognising his creation as human, he could not accept its need, and neither could he accept its independent agency. Perhaps there is a lesson here for us today. We may wish to create human-like entities, but, in a somewhat narcissistic manner, we may balk at having to deal with their agency (one of the themes explored in the film A.I.)[iii]
Figure 1. Von Holst, Theodor (1831) Frankenstein. Mary Shelley. 3rd Edn. Illustration, engraving. Inside cover.
The story of Frankenstein, this myth of modernity, endures because it remains relevant. One particular aspect that we in the 21st century may recognise, is that, through science, an organic, biological agent has been created – it is not a machine. Furthermore, the development of the novel also turns upon the creature’s biological and emotional desire for a mate, a female creature. Victor Frankenstein refuses to complete this second creature, this Eve, because he fears that his creations might then multiply completely outside his control, in creating a ‘race of devils’[iv].
The full title of the novel, Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus, refers to the myth of Prometheus, who not only created a man out of clay, but also stole fire from the gods, for which he was punished by Zeus (by being bound to a rock and having his liver daily eaten by an eagle). The gift of fire, a condition for human advancement, came at a cost. Frankenstein also echoes other myths of the corrupting power of knowledge, including the Fall of Adam and Eve in Genesis. They are cast out of the Garden of Eden because they eat of the apple of the Tree of Knowledge of good and evil. They become self-conscious. God expels them because he does not wish them to eat from the Tree of Life that would confer upon them immortality. And so they must leave the Garden and face eventual death. But, on the other hand, a kind of compensation, their descendants will carry on humanity[v], (see Figure 2).
Figure 2. Durer, Albrecht. (1504) Adam and Eve, Engraving.
A further foundational myth in Western culture is that of Hesiod’s Pandora, a woman created on the orders of Zeus, who opens the ‘great jar’ (often referred to as a ‘box’) and releases all manner of plagues and evils into the world, although, in some compensation, Hope remained in the jar[vi]. (Pandora was given to mankind as a punishment by Zeus for the deceit of Prometheus, who gave man the gift of fire, and so the story has a link to Frankenstein.) There are common themes here in both Genesis and Hesiod: along with mankind’s acquiring of knowledge comes (in each case through woman) evil, suffering, mortality. Knowledge gained, Prometheus’s gift of fire, Adam and Eve’s knowledge of good and evil, cannot be returned to its divine source. And the punishment for knowledge is suffering, disease, mortality – yet hope is not extinguished.
Myths, ancient like Pandora, modern like Frankenstein, or contemporary like Spielberg’s A.I.[vii], give us an opportunity to grapple with, to think about, to explore emotional responses to technological advances such as AI, in a way that the discourse of science and technology does not.
But what is AI?
Human intelligence is of course assumed to be related anatomically to our relatively large brains. The benefit of intelligence, as evolutionary biologist Stephen Jay Gould observed[viii], is that it confers upon humans a considerable flexibility in behavioural response – we are not as blindly governed by instinct as some more simple creatures are. Furthermore the slow maturation of our brain permits ongoing learning, thereby enhancing flexibility and adaptability to circumstances. When we consider AI, it is this ‘machine learning’ feature of informatic systems – able to respond in a flexible way, and to learn, develop and improve – that is really characteristic of ‘Artificial Intelligence’.
The kind of ‘artificial intelligence’ being developed (ill-defined as it is) relates to human intelligence as applied to human problems, and particularly to the use of natural language. The gold standard is a kind of ‘general intelligence’ as opposed to highly specific intelligence required to win a game of chess or a game of Go. The tests for development of ‘Artificial General Intelligence’ enumerated by Wikipedia[ix] beautifully sidestep vexed philosophical questions of the nature of sentience, intelligence, or consciousness. Instead, they require pragmatic demonstration of human qualities – The Turing Test, which involves failing to distinguish between a human and a computer when exchanging text with an unseen partner, or Wozniak’s test which involves a machine going into an average American home and working out how to make coffee…
AI is already with us. It is involved in every Google search. Facebook which uses a form of AI, now has two billion monthly users[x], and AI is becoming much discussed in our mass media. There is considerable unease about what it might mean to live with an intelligence that is akin to human, yet is not human. Along with the fears for loss of jobs and the automation even of creative work (in 2016 the IBM’s Watson created a movie trailer[xi]) there is a more profound and unsettling fear, to which Frankenstein alludes, that fundamental categories, such as ‘human’ and ‘nonhuman’, are threatened and destabilised. One way in which we may respond to this fear is by resorting to notions of the ‘posthuman’[xii] in which we may transcend this distinction.[xiii] But, the unease remains.
One of the problems in discussing AI and its relation to the human, is that we confuse different things. There is a distinction that resembles the Cartesian distinction between mind and body – mind-body dualism. In other words there are entities that may resemble the human mind, entities that resemble the human body, and then of course entities that combine the two. We make our interfaces with AI human-like, because we are human and we tend to anthropomorphise. We look to human-like ‘intelligence’ because we wish that intelligence to tackle questions that are relevant to humans, and in a way to which we can relate.
This way of looking at such entities, in terms of the human, entails a practical human-AI interface to fit human needs, and involves a human interpretation of these entities, but does not deal with their own ‘nature’, whatever that might be (although there seems to be a tendency for the human to become more machine-like while the machine becomes more human-like). However, as more and more exchange goes on between intelligent entities outside the scrutiny of humans, for example in the ‘Internet of Things’, the nature of that private exchange may become a more pressing issue. (An account of Facebook shutting down an experiment in which two ‘chatbots’ began conversing in a language that investigators did not understand was over-exaggerated by the mass media[xiv] but still shows the extent of public fears over AI.)
But, to return to those sidestepped issue of intelligence and consciousness, it is worth noting that these are really phenomena of which we have a limited understanding. In fact, we do not even understand human ‘nature’ well, the way our minds work, the nature of thought, the nature of consciousness, the workings of our ‘unconscious’, the neurobiological basis of thought. On the basis of this limited understanding we are now developing artificial entities that may have some of these properties of intelligence. So, we may not really know what we are doing.
Talking about AI: terms and metaphors
So far, in our writing we have used the term ‘entity’ to allow us to discuss artificial intelligence, without further precision as to the form or forms it may take. Let us now look more closely at some of the terms or metaphors that we apply or have applied to AI. Three terms will be considered initially: tools, individuals and machines.
A tool is an instrument for a human (or some other tool-using animal) to work on something. A hammer is a tool, an object, under the control of its human operator, with fairly narrowly defined conventional uses, even if one might imaginatively expand those uses endlessly. A mobile phone is not a tool. It has endless uses that relate to its processing of information and its interfacing with other informatic systems. Far from it being under the control of its human operator it seems to have a life of its own and at the very least a mutual interdependence with a human. It is an information processor not a mechanical instrument. It is more complex than a hammer by many orders of magnitude in terms of the information required to exhaustively describe it. Without licensing agreements entered into between the user and the software owners it is a useless piece of metal and plastic. It is not an object to work on something. It is not a tool. The complexity, open-endedness and networked aspects of a mobile phone apply even more to AI entities (that are, in any case, incorporated into mobile phones). The term tool is insufficient. The term object is also inadequate.
Since the Renaissance, Western thought has been based strongly upon the notion of the ‘individual’. The mirror became a guiding metaphor, related to the idea of individual ‘reflection’ and to the ‘naturalistic’ image of fixed point perspective. The figure of Saint Jerome, patron saint of scholarship, encapsulates well this isolated individual, in communication with his book, his Bible, his tamed passions symbolised by his emblem, his tame lion (Figure 3). The creature in Frankenstein is unquestionably an individual, reasoning, eloquent, isolated, even as his humanness is disputed tragically. Two centuries after the book was written we should no longer assume we are dealing with individuals (any more than we may assume that we networked humans, participating in mass culture, are any longer individuals in the Renaissance sense). So, if we expect these novel entities to be ‘individuals’, (the model for a whole generation of sf robots) we are likely to be disappointed, and to misunderstand drastically what we are dealing with – which is part of the reason why Enlightenment style ‘rights for robots’ is a misguided proposition.
Figure 3. Durer, Albrecht (1514). Saint Jerome in his study.
“…once adopted into the production process of capital, the means of labour passes through different metamorphoses, whose culmination is the machine, or rather, an automatic system of machinery (system of machinery: the automatic one is merely its most complete, most adequate form, and alone transforms machinery into a system), set in motion by an automaton, a moving power that moves itself; this automaton consisting of numerous mechanical and intellectual organs, so that the workers themselves are cast merely as its conscious linkages.”
The quotation from Karl Marx reveals that the idea of ‘machines’ being supplanted by integrated organic systems, which may motivate themselves, and of which humans are a mere element, has been around for at least 150 years. And we may ask ourselves whether there is a fundamental distinction between these integrated systems of industrial production and artificial intelligence, or whether what we call AI is merely an acceleration of a longstanding process.
But, putting that to one side, it is clear that today we are dealing neither with tools, nor machines nor individuals, but with systems. The Shorter Oxford English Dictionary[xvi] lists several definitions of ‘system’, including, ‘An organized or connected group of objects’, and ‘A set or assemblage of things connected, associated or interdependent, so as to form a complex unity’. The definition extends to physics with entities such as the Solar System, and to biology in the sense of ‘A set of organs or parts in an animal body’. And, indeed, the word system is adopted by some leaders in the field of AI such as Manuela Veloso (Quoted in Brandom[xvii]).
In the future, I believe that there will be a co-existence between humans and artificial intelligence systems that will be hopefully of service to humanity. These AI systems will involve software systems that handle the digital world, and also systems that move around in physical space, like drones, and robots, and autonomous cars, and also systems that process the physical space, like the Internet of Things.
(Veloso quoted in Brandom 2016[xviii])
With the conceptualising of AI as systems that act autonomously and coexist inseparably with humans, our concept of ‘machines’ seems to move ever closer to the metaphor of the ‘organic’.
Systems as metaphors in literature
If Frankenstein employs the idea of the human creation of an isolated individual even though organic, what examples do art and literature give us in terms of systems?
There are two that spring to mind. One is the film The Matrix[xix], in which everything, apart from the Resistance, is under the control of a network, all pervading, mysterious (therefore akin to spirit) – although we do also see a material manifestation of the Matrix at the point where the hero ‘Neo’ goes down the rabbit-hole and is reborn.
The other reference is more subtle, more complex and thus more illuminating: Solaris by Stanislaw Lem[xx], with film versions by Andrei Tarkovsky[xxi] (1972) and later by Steven Soderbergh[xxii] (2002). The book concerns a mysterious planet, Solaris, investigated by teams of scientists. The image here is of a planet largely covered by an ocean of a kind of plasma that exhibits remarkable properties and appears to be one immensely complex organism. The efforts of the humans to communicate with Solaris are at first ignored, but then the planet seems to generate living organic forms drawn from the mind of the humans – the dead return for example. It is a story about the limitations of rationalist science and the frailty of humans confronted with what they do not understand. It overturns the Baconian idea that through scientific progress we can attain dominion over ‘nature’. It speaks of the difficulties of communication and exchange with the ‘alien’ whilst also pointing to the obvious fact that humans have difficulty even with their own subconscious existence, our own nature. Yet there is also a poignant and hopeful aspect, of an organism, utterly alien and largely beyond our understanding, that does nevertheless make an effort to meet and exchange with humans.
The advent of a kind of ‘artificial intelligence’ (manifold, poorly defined, and rapidly developing) confronts humanity with some profound challenges. It is not that we have not lived with other intelligences. We are surrounded by sentient creatures, such as domesticated dogs, with whom we have long been in partnership. Their intelligence is obvious, though perhaps seen as secondary to our own intelligence, and they are generally beings we feel to be largely under our control.
But now we are dealing with entities, with systems, that feel, and in many ways are, radically new. They challenge the very category of the ‘human’, and seem more and more integral with humans. Yet they are also (still) ‘designed’ by humans. The myths of Adam and Eve, of Prometheus and Pandora, and the modern myth of Frankenstein, may help us understand the implications of what is unfolding. The ground is shifting so violently beneath our feet that our language falters. But perhaps it is the metaphor of the network, and especially the organic that may be most useful in understanding what and who ‘we’ are, and what ‘we’ humans want.
We humans struggle with our own nature. And we are now creating a kind of vast extension of humanness, our technology, and we appear to be conferring agency upon it, or perhaps it is conferring agency upon itself. Humans have produced science and technology which has accelerated economy, and positive feedback between these three appears to have produced an ever accelerating system. No wonder we may, as individuals or collectively, feel disorientated.
So, perhaps we need to place the question of AI within a wider discussion of agency. Who or what has agency? To what degree do we humans have agency with respect to AI? Is the technology being driven on by feedback largely outside human control? Can we say that we do or do not want, say, driverless cars, or will they appear, miraculously, whether any individual human wants them or not – created not by man but by the ‘invisible hand’ of the market[xxiii].
We like to think that a human has agency. The image of a human using a stone axe, is of a human empowered by a tool. We forget that the tool creates a new entity – the human-tool system, and in a sense, within that system, the axe also has a programme for manipulating humans and making more stone axes. We may also say that dogs have a programme for manipulating the human-dog system into producing more dogs.
On the one hand, we have the brave and beautiful Renaissance notion of the human individual, the human elevated to the centre of the cosmos, the human with free will, with agency. On the other hand, we have the human as slave of its own creation – Victor Frankenstein under the power of his monster. But perhaps by becoming conscious of the involvement of humans in systems we may have some possibility of understanding what we are, and what human agency means, without entirely abandoning a 500 year legacy of ‘humanism’.
An optimistic view from Manuela Veloso, of ‘symbiotic autonomy’ envisages a future ‘in which humans and intelligent systems’ will be inseparable, and ‘it will be hard to distinguish human agency from automated assistance’[xxiv].
But, here is a warning from philosopher Vilem Flusser[xxv] (1999)
The wheel of progress needs a motor, and we ourselves are this motor, our own will…
It has recently turned out to be the case that the repulsive frictions that obstruct the wheel of progress can in fact be overcome and that progress then starts to roll automatically. It becomes an automobile. Then any further driving of the wheel on the part of humanity becomes superfluous. Progress begins to go into a skid like that caused when there is black ice. And the danger arises that, in the face of such progress without friction, humanity is run over precisely when it attempts to apply the brake.
But there is another more positive idea from quantum physicist David Bohm[xxvii]:
…thought has produced everything that we see here in our society. Wherever you look is the product of thought: buildings, farms, airplanes, everything, including pollution… But not only that – thought also produces and shapes our perception of reality. We see reality according to our thought. Therefore thought is constantly participating both in giving shape and form and figuration to ourselves and to the whole of reality. Now, thought doesn’t know this. Thought is thinking that it isn’t doing anything. I think this is really where the difficulty is. We have got to see that thought is part of this reality and that we are not merely thinking about it, but that we are thinking it. Do you see the difference?
Taking Bohm’s approach, the best that we can do in the face of radical change and the advent of AI systems is to become more conscious of the role of our thought in the emergence of whatever is to come. In that way we might have some possibility of understanding and therefore having agency in respect of whatever we wish to come into existence.
What does it all mean?
AI is a fast developing phenomenon, and it has already arrived. It has implications for every aspect of our existence, in terms of employment certainly, but also in terms of the way we understand ourselves and our place in the world and the nature of our agency. It questions fundamental concepts: not only that of the machine, but that of the human, and it threatens the distinction we have long made between the human and the non-human, and even the artificial and the natural. The concept of the individual, which still informs much of our thinking and discourse, feels more and more outmoded.
In thinking about, discussing, grappling with such a far reaching and transformative phenomenon as AI, the languages of science and technology, and the allied languages of industry and commerce, feel inadequate. This is where other forms of thinking involving stories, myths, metaphors and the worlds of art, literature, cinema can be very useful, where this technical language fails us. We also need the philosophers and thinkers such as Flusser and Bohm to help us understand our own position and the very place of our own thinking in regard to this question. In such a way we may weigh up and avoid the fate of Victor Frankenstein, reacting in horror to the inadequately thought-through consequences of his wondrous creativity and the new agency he has unleashed into the world. And perhaps it will all turn out OK.
20th Century Fox (2016) Morgan | IBM Creates First Movie Trailer by AI [HD]. YouTube. <Video online.> Available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJEzuYynaiw (Accessed 13 Feb 2018)
A.I. (2001) Dir. Steven Spielberg, Warner Bros. 146 minutes
‘Artificial General Intelligence’ (2018) Wikipedia. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artificial_general_intelligence (Accessed 13 Feb 2018)
Bohm, David (1996). On Creativity (Ed. Lee Nichol), Routledge, London, 1996, Pp. 125-45
Brandom, Russell (2016). Humanity and AI will be inseparable. Interview with Manuela Veloso. The Verge. Nov 15. Available at https://www.theverge.com/a/verge-2021/humanity-and-ai-will-be-inseparable (Accessed 13 Feb 2018)
Constine, Josh (2017). Facebook now has 2 billion monthly users… and responsibility. <Article online> Techcrunch.com. June 27. (Available at https://techcrunch.com/2017/06/27/facebook-2-billion-users/ )
Flusser, Vilem. (1999). The shape of things: a philosophy of design. London: Reaktion
Genesis 2-5. The Holy Bible, King James Edition
Gould, Stephen Jay (1990). An urchin in the storm. London: Penguin
Harman, Graham (2010). Towards speculative realism. Winchester, UK: Zero Books
Homer and Hesiod (2013). Hesiod, the Homeric Hymns, and Homerica. Project Gutenberg eBook. Ed. Hugh G Evelyn-White. <Online book>. Available at http://www.gutenberg.org/files/348/348-h/348-h.htm#link2H_4_0018 (Accessed 27 July 2017).
Juengst, Eric and Moseley, Daniel. (2016) Human Enhancement, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), Available at: https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2016/entries/enhancement/. (Accessed 13 Feb 2018)
Lem, Stanislaw (2003 ). Solaris. London: Faber and Faber
Marx, Karl. (2016 [1857-61]) Grundrisse: Foundations of the critique of political economy (rough draft). London: Penguin Books / New Left Review. <Online> Martin Nicolaus. https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1857/grundrisse/ (Accessed 30th November 2016).
McKay, Tom (2017). No, Facebook Did Not Panic And Shut Down An AI Program That Was Getting Dangerously Smart. <Article online> Gizmodo.com. August 1. (Available at https://www.gizmodo.com.au/2017/08/no-facebook-did-not-panic-and-shut-down-an-ai-program-that-was-getting-dangerously-smart/ (Accessed 4 August 2017)
Shelley, Mary (2003). Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus. Ed. with introduction and notes by Maurice Hindle. London: Penguin
Smith, Adam (2018). Adam Smith Quotes. Adam Smith Institute. Available at: https://www.adamsmith.org/adam-smith-quotes/ (Accessed 13 Feb 2018)
Solaris (1972). Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky. Mosfilm Studios ; Sovexportfilm. 166 minutes
Solaris (2002). Directed by Steven Soderbergh. 20th Century Fox. 98 minutes
The Matrix (1999). Directed by The Wachowski Brothers. Warner Bros. 136 minutes
[i] Shelley, Mary (2003). Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus. Ed. with introduction and notes by Maurice Hindle. London: Penguin, p. 58
[ii] Shelley, Mary (2003). Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus. Ed. with introduction and notes by Maurice Hindle. London: Penguin
[iii] A.I. (2001) Dir. Steven Spielberg, Warner Bros. 146 minutes
[iv] Shelley, Mary (2003). Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus. Ed. with introduction and notes by Maurice Hindle. London: Penguin, p. 170
[v] Genesis 2-5. The Holy Bible, King James Edition
[vi][vi] Homer and Hesiod (2013). Hesiod, the Homeric Hymns, and Homerica. Project Gutenberg eBook. Ed. Hugh G Evelyn-White. <Online book>. Available at http://www.gutenberg.org/files/348/348-h/348-h.htm#link2H_4_0018 (Accessed 27 July 2017).
[vii] A.I. (2001) Dir. Steven Spielberg, Warner Bros. 146 minutes
[viii] Gould, Stephen Jay (1990). An urchin in the storm. London: Penguin. Pp. 62-3
[ix] ‘Artificial General Intelligence’ (2018) Wikipedia. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artificial_general_intelligence (Accessed 13 Feb 2018)
[x] Constine, Josh (2017). Facebook now has 2 billion monthly users… and responsibility. <Article online> Techcrunch.com. June 27. (Available at https://techcrunch.com/2017/06/27/facebook-2-billion-users/ )
[xii] Juengst, Eric and Moseley, Daniel. (2016) Human Enhancement, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), Available at: https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2016/entries/enhancement/. (Accessed 13 Feb 2018)
[xiii] The recent philosophical development of ‘object oriented ontology’ also redefines and decentralises the human by ascribing agency to objects and allowing us to see the world from the object’s point of view (see for example Harman, Graham (2010). Towards speculative realism. Winchester, UK: Zero Books).
[xiv] McKay, Tom (2017). No, Facebook Did Not Panic And Shut Down An AI Program That Was Getting Dangerously Smart. <Article online> Gizmodo.com. August 1. (Available at https://www.gizmodo.com.au/2017/08/no-facebook-did-not-panic-and-shut-down-an-ai-program-that-was-getting-dangerously-smart/ (Accessed 4 August 2017)
[xv] Marx, Karl. (2016 [1857-61]) Grundrisse: Foundations of the critique of political economy (rough draft). London: Penguin Books / New Left Review. <Online> Martin Nicolaus. https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1857/grundrisse/ (Accessed 30th November 2016).
[xvi] ‘System’. (1984) Shorter Oxford English Dictionary. Ed. CT Onions. Oxford: Clarendon Press
[xvii] Brandom, Russell (2016). Humanity and AI will be inseparable. Interview with Manuela Veloso. The Verge. Nov 15. Available at https://www.theverge.com/a/verge-2021/humanity-and-ai-will-be-inseparable (Accessed 13 Feb 2018)
[xviii] Brandom, Russell (2016). Humanity and AI will be inseparable. Interview with Manuela Veloso. The Verge. Nov 15. Available at https://www.theverge.com/a/verge-2021/humanity-and-ai-will-be-inseparable (Accessed 13 Feb 2018)
[xix] The Matrix (1999). Directed by The Wachowski Brothers. Warner Bros. 136 minutes
[xx] Lem, Stanislaw (2003 ). Solaris. London: Faber and Faber
[xxi] Solaris (1972). Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky. Mosfilm Studios ; Sovexportfilm. 166 minutes
[xxii] Solaris (2002). Directed by Steven Soderbergh. 20th Century Fox. 98 minutes
[xxiv] Brandom, Russell (2016). Humanity and AI will be inseparable. Interview with Manuela Veloso. The Verge. Nov 15. Available at https://www.theverge.com/a/verge-2021/humanity-and-ai-will-be-inseparable (Accessed 13 Feb 2018)
[xxv] Flusser, Vilem. (1999). The shape of things: a philosophy of design. London: Reaktion
[xxvi] Flusser, Vilem. (1999). The shape of things: a philosophy of design. London: Reaktion. p. 122
[xxvii] Bohm, David (1996). On Creativity (Ed. Lee Nichol), Routledge, London, 1996, Pp. 125-45
[xxviii] Bohm, David (1996). On Creativity (Ed. Lee Nichol), Routledge, London, 1996, Pp. 125-45
Get the Full Experience
Read the rest of this article, and view all articles in full from just £10 for 3 months.