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The Age of Spiritual Machines: when computers
exceed human intelligence
Ray Kurzweil, Allen & Unwin, 1999
Review by Charles Sherlock
Zadok Perspectives Issue No. 63
Autumn 1999
RAY KURZWEIL IS QUITE a
guy. A teenage computing prodigy in the '60s, he has been the brain behind
a stack of computing technology breakthroughs-reading machines for the
blind, optical character recognition (OCR), music synthesisers, artificial
intelligence, and so on (you can read the amazing and true story in pages
174-178 of this interesting and well-constructed book). One feature which
makes it particularly easy to read is the "dialogues" at the
end of each chapter, beautifully written, and embracing an attractive
sense of humour and irony.
This book is not Ray's first step into print. In 1988 he wrote The Age
of Intelligent Machines, which "predicted" a raft of technological
innovations likely in the next decade-with a strike-rate of over 80 per
cent (most notably, the Web). So when he writes a second book of "predictions",
we should sit up and take notice. His basic argument is that by 2019 the
average home computer will have equalled the intelligent power of the
human brain, and that by 2099 "we" will live in and through
neural networks in which machine and person will be indistinguishable.
Quite a picture, and very thought-provoking!
The Age of Intelligent Machines falls into three parts: "probing
the past", "preparing the present" and "to face the
future". If you just want the predictions, some quite sensational
(let the reader understand . . . ), go straight to Part Three. If you
want to find out what he thinks "spiritual machines" are, try
Part Two. But if you are interested in exploring the underlying issues
of the rapid developments in technology for human life, Part One is where
to begin. (Ray's own preference is for readers to read from the beginning,
but to be offered alternatives by a book's author is very postmodern.)
Now, spiritual machines? Unfortunately, beyond the title, hardly anything
at all is written about the 'spiritual'! One gets the feeling that the
title was thought up after the book was finished. Only in one three-page
section is 'spirituality' discussed, where we find that "spiritual
machines" are simply ones which can think-or which other humans accept
as thinking (the famous Turing Test). The idea that being spiritual has
to do with prayer, worship and especially obedience, finds no echo at
all.
I found it distinctly odd to read a book about things 'spiritual' whose
author holds to a strictly materialist view of reality-he makes one or
two kind asides about Buddhism, and refers once to his Unitarian high
school education. 'God' seems to be wholly absent from Kurzweil's imagination,
and only appears as the name given to a laboratory-induced experience
of some epileptic people! This is a salutary warning for Christians, who
(like me) perhaps take it too much for granted that intellectual leaders
'reason' in the light of the long-term religious heritage of both West
and East, with a sense of history. It is also a sign that 'spirituality'
for many today has solely a 'horizontal' reference, having nothing to
do with godliness (the closest biblical term to 'spirituality').
Now Kurzweil has a first-rate knowledge of the history of technology,
especially in its electronic forms. The book is of great value in this
respect, and at points fascinating. But he fails to ground this in a wider
view of history (the far more satisfying approaches of Alberto Manguel's
The History of Reading, or Michael Heim's The Metaphysics of Virtual Reality
come to mind). This, together with the occasional references to philosophy
in Parts One and Two (swelling to a confident flood in Part Three) did
not give me great confidence in his wilder predictions about the future.
Indeed, The Age of Intelligent Machines reads at many points as if human
history only began in 1861 with Darwin's theory of evolution, and 'evolution'
is sprinkled liberally all over Part One, in a bewildering range of meanings.
If a theological student used 'God' so loosely in an essay, I would be
putting red marks all over their work! Further, I understand how organic
life may 'evolve', but have always been puzzled as to how a rock does-and
very suspicious of speaking about society as 'evolving'.
Likewise, 'law' is used in a kaleidoscopic variety of ways. In particular,
Kurzweil asserts a "Law of Time and Chaos" as fundamental to
his outlook. This seeks to blend the ideas behind evolution with (the
contrasting) ones of thermodynamics (with 'chaos' ideas thrown in rather
loosely). The effect is to argue that everything is going to get bigger
and better without limit, and underlies a vast number of 'will' assertions
about the future, which start to take on the force of 'must' after a while.
Occasionally The Age of Intelligent Machines does engage with theological
ideas. Kurzweil clearly enjoys the notion that reality is only 'there'
when it is perceived-the illustration of a photon only having its path
determined when it is received in the eye forms the opening note of the
book, for example. Yet he seems unaware that this was precisely how Bishop
Berkeley argued against Hume: reality endures beyond my observation of
it because God is the Great Perceiver!
The largest theological questions, however, concern what it means to be
human. Part Two moves towards a highly 'disembodied' understanding of
human life: the chapter on "Bodies" is intended to clarify this,
but only serves to reinforce it: the goal of technology is to extend human
consciousness indefinitely by loosening the links with our bodies. Not
surprisingly, a considerable emphasis on individualism emerges (with throwaway
lines supporting competitive capitalism). This is not to say that Kurzweil
lacks a social conscience (his own considerable work on disabilities negates
this) but his philosophy of human life is highly 'autonomous'.
And such a perspective cloaks some assumptions that human life is basically
male, middle class and Western. The consistent use of 'she' for the reader
grates rather than assures after a while, and one gets rather tired of
repeated references to sexual experience (portrayed in male terms) as
the highpoint of human existence. Despite large amounts of material about
machines becoming embedded in us, and then taking on their own life, not
a single word is said about human reproduction, the complementarity of
the sexes (however regarded) and so on.
Finally, to live in Kurzweil's future world assumes that one has access
to cheap electricity, technology and education, without sin, suffering,
pollution and evil (the tragic face of real chaos). Better technology
may be of benefit to many, but it also heightens our capacity for pride,
sloth, greed and laziness, and any machine which 'evolves' from our species
will be little different.
The Age of Intelligent Machines nevertheless can engage Christians positively
in several ways. Most obviously, it puts everyone on notice about likely
changes in societies such as Australia. Kurzweil's predictions for the
next decade make far more sense than the longer term ones. (If he is right,
by the way, Telstra and tertiary education should most definitely remain
under government control.) The sheer speed of likely change in a wider
range of life-situations calls for ethical and theological engagement
as a matter of urgency.
The larger lesson, however, concerns the way in which we theologise. Most
Christian thinking has worked from the past-whether understood in terms
of the scriptures, tradition or particular theological emphases-forwards'.
Yet Jesus continually spoke of and lived out the Kingdom of God, an approach
which begins the future and works 'backwards' into the present. Such a
method is gradually emerging in ecumenical theology as a way of getting
not only 'behind', but also 'in front of' divisive issues.
From a Christian theological perspective, Kurzweil's book is challenging.
But it is perhaps best viewed as a fascinating example of working from
the 'future backwards'. Such a methodology is one which could be considerable
assistance in living out the way of Christ in a 'culture of change'.
Charles Sherlock, an Anglican priest and deacon, is Senior Lecturer in
Theology at Trinity College Theological School, Melbourne. Having soldered
together his first computer two decades back, he occasionally finds there
is more to life than playing with its descendants.
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