J. Craig Wheeler

For a while in May I contemplated making a serious run at soliciting keynote speaking opportunities. My agent, Regina Ryan, and my independent publicist, Joanne McCall, both pointed out that many authors make their real income in that way, not from book sales. A woman at an Austin Forum on Science and Society meeting pointed out that doing keynotes is a "real job." I ended up voting with my body. I turned back to writing on my father's biography. It's always been writing that centers me. Still, if another keynote opportunity fell into my lap, I would pursue it. Just saying.

 

On May 7, I attended a dinner meeting of the Austin Forum Board, of which I am a lowly member. I fell into an interesting conversation with William Fitzgerald and Stephanie Scales of Bárd, a technical writing consulting company. They are trying to compile a catalog of human intelligence which they have provisionally titled "Human Documentation." At a previous board meeting, I had teased William by saying that Human Documentation was a rather meh title. I rashly promised to come up with a better one. At this dinner, William teased me back, pointing out that I had not done so. A long discussion ensued.

 

That night, I awoke in the middle of the night with various thoughts racing through my sleep-addled brain. I thought that a catalog of human intelligence does not capture the breadth and depth of the topic. In pondering this, it seemed to me that Homo sapiens are a way point, not the end of human intelligence. One can consider where and how human intelligence will go in the future, by pure biological evolution or by melding with machines. It roiled in my head that a while a catalog of human intelligence is not an infinitesimal point, it is a very small dot in the continuum of intelligence that begins with stromatolites, bacteria, and continues to plants, trees, animals, humans in the past and present and humans beyond in the future, other biological intelligence, extraterrestrial of all sorts, biomarkers less intelligent than us but also the possibility of hugely advanced biological intelligence and biological/machine melds. How, my sleepy mind asked, can one establish clear boundaries between human and "other" intelligence. What is the difference between machine ASI and biological ASI? That led me to sleepily ponder the question of the meaning of human. Human as opposed to what? "Inhuman" does not intrinsically mean evil but could encompass alien as well as machine. I also found myself thinking about the relationship between "intelligence" and "creativity." Creativity seems to involve thinking things that have never been thought before, but of course much creativity involves extrapolating things that have been thought or done before. How, I asked myself, do you encompass art in the context of intelligence? A popular exercise is to think of things that humans do that machines cannot, an increasingly small set. Machine thinking may involve things that no human can or has done. Already we have machines that can strategize in a manner that no human has or can do. Prime examples are the products of DeepMind like AlphaGo Zero or AlphaFold. I fuzzily concluded that the dimensions of intelligence are huge, less than, comparable to, or greater than current human intelligence, and, that there is diversity even among humans. I found myself conflating intelligence, thinking, and creativity, never mind consciousness.

 

What a jumble.

 

I wrote a summary of this sleep infested core dump to William and Stephanie the next day. Who knows what they will make of it? What I did not do was come up with a better name than "Human Documentation."

 

On May 19, I finally formally registered my novels, The Krone Experiment and Krone Ascending and The Path to Singularity with Created by Humans. Created by Humans is an organization that promises to handle licensing that ensures that some sort of royalty is paid by firms that use an author's work to train their AI LLM models. I don't know whether this will work or not, but it seemed a useful experiment. I had vetted the notion of registering with Created by Humans with Regina Ryan. The registration process required some to-ing and fro-ing by email, but I got it done.

 

On May 29, I participated in another Austin Forum book discussion, this time on Reid Hoffman's new book, Superagency. Hoffman is a tech titan who founded LinkedIn. He has an optimistic view of what AI will do for humanity, as long as we avoid all the existential threats.

 

I spent most of my writing time in May working on father's biography. I discovered a bunch of correspondence dating back to the mid 1920's and am trying to incorporate that into what I've already written of that era up into the 1950's when he witnessed the first hydrogen bomb, Ivy Mike. One challenge has been the correspondence from my beloved Grandmother Wheeler, Vernie. Vernie had the charming but frustrating habit of dating her letters with just the day of the week. A typical entry would be "Sat. P.M." I engaged in considerable detective work using other correspondence and the text and context of her mail to see where it fit chronologically. One letter was sent on a Tuesday after she returned from voting. I checked the calendar. Aha! Elections always happen on Tuesdays in November, and I deduced we were talking about midterm elections on November 2, 1942. I went on to other things, but this rattled around in my head. There were some things that didn't quite fit. Finally, I went back and realized that she was talking about Tuesday November 2, 1936. I'd been off by six years.

 

I'm posting examples of technology advances every weekday on X and LinkedIn, my quest to document the exponential growth of technology. Spoiler alert. It's still growing.

 

The last week of April was packed with various activities.

 

Chloé Hummel, my publicist at Prometheus/Global Pequot, emailed that she was moving on, as ambitious young women in the book business are wont to do. I enjoyed working with her and wish her luck. We were just starting a project to try to promote bulk sales to companies. I waited a decent interval to see if Prometheus would provide a new publicist, then wrote my editor. No response. After a month, I wrote to my only other contact, a fellow in productions. He did not know the situation but linked in a marketing director. It has been another couple of weeks. No response from anyone. My book is six months old, there is a new season, I'm being dropped.

 

I got a wonderful note from Neil DeGrasse Tyson saying that I had a standing invitation to be on his podcast, Star Talk, if I were sometime in New York. I replied that I would get myself there if we could line up a time. I'm awaiting that development.

 

Before I retired, I was a member of The University of Texas at Austin Academy of Distinguished Teachers. I still attend their weekly conversational lunches when I can. The Academy sponsors a program called Reading Roundup wherein faculty meet with incoming freshmen just before the start of their first term to discuss a book chosen by the Academy member. The seeds of The Path to Singularity were planted in such a get together, as described in the preface. I stopped doing Reading Roundup when I retired, but when I got the invitation to Reading Roundup this year, I realized that it would be great fun to talk about The Path to Singularity, so I signed up to do so in the fall. I'll report on that in a future post.

 

In an interesting surprise, I received an email from Juan Serinyà, Chief Technology Officer of Tory Technologies, a Houston company that writes control room management software, primarily for the petroleum business, with clients in the US, Brazil, Columbia and elsewhere. Juan has Catalonian roots, was trained in Venezuela, and has been in US for 30 years. He was in Austin for a conference and ran across The Path to Singularity in our independent bookstore, Book People, a remnant of my doing a book signing there. Juan said he was interested in the topics of my book and wondered if I might be willing to give a keynote address at his client meeting in August. Hey! Is the Pope Italian? Despite the prospect of Houston in August, I replied with an enthusiastic yes. He asked about my fee. I have never done such a thing but recognizing that while Neil DeGrasse Tyson is a friend of mine, I'm no Neil DeGrasse Tyson, I named a number that seemed neither embarrassingly small, nor overambitious. Juan said, "we can handle that." I should have asked for more. We've signed a contract that spells out what Juan would like to hear me talk about and that is exactly what I would like to say. They will pay my expenses and agreed to cover the cost of a rental car and the time of my son, Rob, to drive me, the equivalent of an Uber. I'm shy of driving long distances by myself these days. They will set up a table where I can sell and sign books. There will be 50 clients, so I'm trying to think how many books I'd need. I'm exploring getting a Houston bookstore to provide the books and handle the sales and romancing the notion of setting up a book signing in an independent bookstore in Bastrop which is on the way to Houston from Austin.  I'm really looking forward to it, including gently raising climate issues to a bunch of oil people. I'll do a blog on that when it happens.

 

I went to a talk by Dr. Aubra Anthony, a Senior Fellow in the Technology and International Affairs Program at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. She spoke on "responsible AI," asking "responsible on whose terms?" She stressed the cultural differences around the world that complicate the topic, pointing out that AI LLM models developed in the Global North might not be totally appropriate in the Global South.

 

I attended a Zoom call book discussion sponsored by the Austin Forum on Technology and Society. The book was Artificial Integrity: The Paths to Leading AI Toward a Human-Centered Future by Hamilton Mann. This book also addressed cultural differences with regard to AI and social issues, arguing that AI Integrity involves culture and is context dependent and that given the complexity of both machines and people, perfection is hard to reach.  The author advised accepting that society will lag technical status and to be practical about what is most doable in policy and regulation, given that perfect will not be possible. The goal should be minimizing the severity of the technology/society dislocation. He called for avoiding systems that can manipulate and deceive. To that I say, too late! Recent LLMs lie and deceive. I advocated the Golden Rule for AI I invented for The Path to Singularity, "Do unto AI as you would have it do unto you." The author asked how to prevent malicious use of AI but did not answer the question directly. A small technical quibble. The author claimed that the global market size for AI is expected to be $2,575.16 billion by 2032; 6 significant figures? Really?

 

I read a longish online essay by Dario Amodei, the founder and CEO of the AI company Anthropic that produced the LLM AI, Claude. The essay covers many of the same topics I do in The Path to Singularity, but with interesting, complementary insights. You might find the second section on neuroscience and mind especially interesting. I also started reading a long amusing, cartoon illustrated presentation on why Elon Musk created his brain/computer interface company, Neurolink. I bogged down despite being entertained and even a little educated. I need to get back to it.

 

I joined an online MIT-sponsored webinar with Sherry Turkle. She discussed the issues with having chatbot friends. She regards this as an existential threat, arguing that children developing their own sense of empathy should not use chatbots that have no true inner life. People have an inner life, chatbots don't. Among her admonitions and declarations: Don't make products that pretend to be a person. Require/request engineers to write a memoir to connect them to their own inner life. No good therapist asks a patient, are you happier after our interaction as chatbots do. Criticize metrics of the use of chatbots. Effect on civil society – terrible, terrible, terrible. To make people angry and keep people with their own kind; could not be a worse algorithm. Guardrails – companies invite people to invent their own AI. Pretend empathy is not empathy. Chatbots don't have a body, don't have pain, don't fear death. Chatbots are alien. Not human. The woman has opinions. I share many of them.

 

What a week that was!

The Black Pearl Bookstore is a nice little family run enterprise in a remodeled house along the sprawl of Burnet Road that bisects north Austin. I had ordered a book from them once, Little Leonardo's Fascinating World of Astronomy by Sarafina Nance who had been an undergraduate student of mine (see also her remarkable memoir, Starstruck), but I had never been in the shop. After putting it off for a while in the press of other things, I finally stopped in on April 2 and made them a deal. I offered them a signed copy of The Path to Singularity from the shrinking store of 50 provided to me by Prometheus Press with the request that if they sold it they would order some more. We struck the deal with smiles all around. Now I need to drop in again to see if it sold.

 

On April 2 and 3, I participated in the annual symposium of the Good Systems group, the interdisciplinary enterprise on campus that seeks to bring ethics to AI. I had asked whether I could display The Path to Singularity at the symposium as my version of a poster presentation and got enthusiastic agreement. I borrowed the same bookstand that had displayed the book at the previous Astronomy Department Board of Visitors meeting (see Blog 11 – Amazon Reviews). The symposium organizers really did not have a natural way to display the book, but offered one of the round tables at the rear of the room where people could sit and munch goodies during breaks. I commandeered one table, set up the bookstand with the book propped on it, plopped my fedora (it's not a cowboy hat!) on the table, and set out some of my Path business cards. Over the two days of the symposium, I handed out a few cards and might have made a few sales.

 

The evening of April 3, I finally finished the unique and fascinating novel Magdalena Mountain by my cousin-in-law, the butterfly naturalist Bob Pyle. It took me a while to read it because my novel reading these days tends to be a few paragraphs and then falling asleep at bedtime. It was a pleasure all the way, with vivid writing and a special perspective. Here is my short review on Amazon: I was delighted by this tangled story of odd people and their quests where two of the main characters are a butterfly and a mountain. Naturalist Bob Pyle invents (in some cases) a fascinating array of characters and writes powerfully and lyrically of the black butterfly that breeds in the summits of the Colorado Rockies and of the high country that draws these characters together. Did you know that Vladimir Nabokov chased butterflies in those very mountains? Here is a Nabokov word: VIBGYOR.

 

My birthday was on Saturday, April 5. We had some takeout fajitas from Maudie's in Austin and slices of a chocolate eruption cake from the Austin World Headquarters of Whole Foods (now wholly subsumed by Amazon). I got two books I had been meaning to read for a long, and longer time, Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus and The Gold Bug Variations by Richard Powers. It will probably take me until my next birthday to get through them.

 

I spent most of the week of April 14 at a small workshop on supernova. The venue was special, The Cook's Branch Conservancy. The conservancy is operated by the family and estate of George Mitchell, a Greek immigrant who arrived penniless in the US, invented fracking, built the fancy Woodlands suburb of Houston, and purchased the 7100 acres of the conservancy in the piney woods of east Texas. Mitchell became a benefactor of Texas A&M University where he hit it off with and subsequently hosted famed cosmologist Steven Hawking at the conservancy.

 

More recently, the conservancy has been the site of focused workshops organized by TAMU faculty. The Department of Physics has hosted one on supernova research, my academic specialty, for over a decade. I had not been there since before Covid, so jumped at the chance when invited this time. Many of the attendees were good friends and colleagues from TAMU and elsewhere. I don't like to drive long distances alone anymore, so my son, Rob, came with me to drive our rental car (long story) for the three-hour trip. We shared a rustic suite in the meeting compound courtesy of the workshop organizers. For this workshop, the Mitchells arranged an Israeli chef, a woman of about 60, to come down from Denver to prepare three scrumptious meals a day for us. At night there is a bonfire around which to sit and stare at the flames.

 

The meeting itself was small, about 15 people, but very intense with lots of time for discussion and argument. We delved deeply into the weeds of the technical aspects of observing, analyzing, and theorizing about supernova explosions, topics only a mother, or an astrophysicist, could love. It was great fun. The relevance to this blog is that while I am loathe to shove The Path to Singularity in the face of astronomy colleagues, I came prepared with a bunch of the book business cards. Over the course of the workshop, I raised the existence of the book with individuals and gave them cards if they seemed interested, including one to Sheridan Mitchell Lorenz, who dropped in to check how things were proceeding. I realized that by the end of the meeting, I had hit up nearly everyone anyway. So much for discretion.

 

I had done a podcast with Dan Turchin of The Future of Work back on February 7. This discussion was similar to several podcasts I had done before, but I had also learned some new things in the meantime (current LLM models lie and deceive), and threw that in. Sometimes podcasts are posted fairly promptly, but sometimes they take a while. This one was released on video and was finally edited and posted on April 7. In an interesting departure, they edited snippets and released them daily for a week on LinkedIn. Here is one. They sent me these relevant links:

·  Your episode

·  LinkedIn post you can share

·  Tweet you can share

 

I had also done an enjoyable podcast the day before, on February 6, with Izolda Trakhtenberg of Your Creative Mind. This was purely audio but still was only posted on April 21 on Apple and Spotify.

 

The same day, April 21, I was in the neighborhood getting a new battery for my 26-year-old Lexus SUV (only 80,000 miles), so I stopped in the Barnes and Nobel where I had previously signed the one copy of The Path to Singularity. To my disappointment, it was still there although in a slightly more prominent place than I had first located it. Better news was that they had ordered another four copies, so I signed those. I gently pleaded with the clerk to make a display of all five of them, but I'm not optimistic.

 

I skipped here one event, on April 11, a conference of independent book sellers in San Antonio, but that was enough of an adventure that I think it deserves its own blog. Next one.