Next is fairer

The central point in the debate over machine intelligence, or artificial intelligence, was its devoid of human emotions. It neither rejoices nor grieves, neither loves nor hates. And when it develops the capacity to control us completely, who knows what decisions it might make? A machine unaffected by the chirping of a canary, by tears of joy or sorrow, nor by the plight of orphans. What will this world be like?

As far as the ink is concerned, we will live in a world of objectivity and justice. No revenge or retaliation. In such a world, a man like Stalin cannot cause the starvation of 10 million Ukrainians. No economic war between America and China can impoverish millions of people without pity or mercy. No artificial mind can accept that the only thing done by the North Korean leader, Kim III, is to display his latest missiles with commemorative photos of them. The missile and the leader. The artificial mind sets red and yellow lines for itself, and includes a special section for boredom, tedium, and monotony. Whereas the human constitution does not get bored, is not satisfied, and does not even notice that this universe is overflowing with nuclear, ballistic, comprehensive, and complete weapons, which are not yet complete.

Artificial intelligence doesn't know how to fake, deceive, or pretend, contrary to what it actually believes. British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain went to Munich twice in two weeks and held lengthy meetings with Hitler. He returned to London completely convinced that the Führer did not want war. His Foreign Secretary, Lord Halifax, then went back with the same impression: Hitler did not want war. Shortly after, Hitler started World War II.

Do you know who Chamberlain's closest advisor was during those turbulent moments in the history of the blue planet? His sister. He would write to her, recounting what he heard and what he said, praising the German chancellor's intentions. And who was his other advisor? His other sister, according to his memoirs.

Chamberlain's simplicity became one of the most important lessons in the history of warfare. "The soul is prone to evil," and human nature is insecure. Here the difference between the objectivity of manufacture and the weakness, or dominance, of temperament becomes clear. In the artificial world we have entered, there will be no Hulagu, no Genghis Khan, no Tamerlane, no Hitler, and no Pol Pot. And in case you forget who that is, it's the Cambodian who put up an exhibition of skulls in his capital, Phnom Penh. Millions of them. He's also the one who turned his country into the most prosthetic limbs. And he was always smiling. Artificial intelligence is too noble to smile.