big brown beastie,
big brown face,
I'd rather be with you,
than flying through space...
In 2001 – the last year as a single as I did not come to know my
wife yet – I went on a group holiday to Costa Rica. It was a very special holiday
that I will remember for the rest of my life. One of the dearest memories to me
was riding on a horse during this holiday.
With the group we received an hour of riding instruction
on a small and gentle Costarican “Rent-a-Horse” as part of an excursion. It was a life-changing event. In spite of the fact that I had not more than
two minutes(!) of horse riding experience at the time, I felt an immediate click
with my animal. We understood each other and I was so impressed with the own
will and own decision making of my horse.
Before riding on a horse, I had a lot of driving
experience on mopeds and motor bikes: the moped did everything that I wanted
and if I drove it masterfully, the moped never stopped me from going where I
wanted to go. Driving my moped made me very happy and alive as a sixteen year old boy!
Yet, this horse was so different. It was so much alive and aware of its own being! On narrow and slippery
paths (it was rainy at the time – EL)
and dry levies, it watched for the most safe and sensible way to go, as it did not
want to fall itself. If the animal did not want to go where I wanted it to go,
it simply refused to walk. It seemed on a journey by itself to make this ‘one off’ jockey
have a nice and safe ride. And I did!
The next day I was still so full of my ride, that a few
group members and I decided to rent a horse for almost a day and ride through
the beautiful Costarican landscape. It was a ride I will never forget and even
though it was not exactly ‘safe’ to gallop on the slippery paths in the pouring
rain with virtually no experience, I was so happy that I did it. My horse pulled me through that they and I loved it ever since! Even while my bottom hurt for a week or more after this ride.
I reflected upon this dear memory, when I read an
article in Het Financieele Dagblad containing an interview with a
scientist in robotics of the Delft Institute of Technology (TU Delft), Chris Verhoeven.
He argued that people should look at robots and robotized
vehicles as a kind of animals. Then the initial fear and reluctance of using
them would vanish, to be replaced for a relation based on trust and confidence.
Here are the pertinent snips of this must-read interview:
“Yes,
also with a self-driving vehicle something can go wrong. But in earlier years this could also happen
with the equally autonomous horse and we never abolished that”,
states Chris Verhoeven of the TU Delft Robotics Institute. To build up a ‘bond of confidence with your
robot, that is the point.
Verhoeven
is a very popular speaker about what he calls, ‘the robotic trinity’. In that
he sees the robot as the physical manifestation of the information that is
available via the ‘Internet of Things’ and Big Data.
A
conversation with Verhoeven leads to surprising insights. He calls the
difference between science and religion ‘fragile’, talks about ‘little drones
fluttering around on Schiphol’, looking for drugs in your luggage. And he talks
about ‘believing in your robot’, which is – by the way – an ‘electric animal’.
“I always start to
tell that robots are animals. I specifically say ‘are’, not ‘are akin to’. A very
important characteristic of an animal – look at a dog or a horse – is that it
is autonomous. When you look at a farmer, ploughing a piece of land with a
horse, then the horse is autonomous, but it listens to the farmer.
At
this moment we have the feeling that we need to be in control. But ‘in command’
means that the autonomous system listens to you. There is a situation of
ordination, a relation based on trust.
The
farmer and his ploughing horse, in which the horse knew very well what it
should do, that was an autonomous system.
[Consequently - EL] It
is very good to realize that we have been there before. An autonomous truck is
like horse and carriage. An autonomous car is a horse. You can step on a horse
drunk and it will bring you home safely anyway”.
I totally dig what Chris
Verhoeven states here and I fully understand where he comes from.
Yet, I utterly disagree with
what Verhoeven has to say and I even think that especially the red and bold parts are
quite dangerous. I want to write my response to Verhoeven with the image of my
beloved ‘Rent-a-horse’ in mind.
Yes, my horse is autonomous and so is the robot.
My horse was born and grown as an animal and it had to find his way through life from
being a young foal to the old, retired horse that he one day will have become.
So the autonomy is what
Verhoeven’s robot and my horse had in common. But that is where the
similarities end, as far as I’m concerned.
My horse is alive. It knows
and understands that it is alive, even though it probably can’t grasp the
impact of this notion. My horse feels pain and fear and it wants to protect
itself from experiencing pain and fear. In order to do so, it must not only
protect itself from it, but also the horseman on his back.
Further, some horses are
genuine heroes and other horses are a little more cowardice, when it comes to
what they (don’t) dare to do. That is what makes every horse one of a kind.
Even though the trust in
their horsemen is nearly endless, there can always be a moment that the horse
says “No way, José!”. Everybody who saw a jockey fly through the air in front of
a barrier during a horse show, knows that his horse pulled the ‘emergency brake’.
At that moment the twenty-odd years of riding experience of the jockey suddenly
don’t count anymore for the horse.
Almost certainly the horse
feels affection and perhaps even love for his master or mistress, which gives
them a bond for a lifetime. When one of those two must have to go, both feel
the pain and sorrow of loss and grief. That is not autonomy, that is being
alive.
The robot, however, is not
alive and will never experience what it is to be alive. It will do the things
it is programmed to do and it will learn the things that it is capable of
learning. But it will never feel emotions like joy, fear, grief, pleasure and
love. It will always be an intelligent and self-learning, but further utterly
dead tool. Unless things will change dramatically in the next few decades.
Drones fly, because its their raison d'etre. Driving robots and autonomous cars and trucks drive, as that is for which they are designed. Killer robots kill without blinking an eye or thinking about the impact of such a deed, as that is for which THEY are designed.
But it will never give them joy, pleasure, pain, grief or sorrow. These emotional capabilities are not in their package. Just because they are NOT alive.
When an autonomous car
crashes, because its software, its internet connection or its sensors let it
down at a crucial moment, it will crash without experiencing any humane or
animal emotion.
It. Just. Crashes! Killing itself and perhaps
killing everybody inside it. Without pain or remorse.
And when an autonomous car
or truck drives into an adolescent kid, an old lady or a child, killing it at the spot, it will feel no
pain, sorrow or grief. It came to the end of its lifecycle without ever
realizing what went wrong.
When I feel trust and
confidence in an autonomously driving car or truck, it is because I trust its
programmers and software testers to do the right thing overtime. And I trust
time to have uncovered the most dangerous bugs during the various testing
cycles. Just like what happened with the auto-pilots in airplanes.
Therefore I am quite certain
that I will start to have confidence in autonomous vehicles, when they pass me
by on the road. Not now at this moment, but in a decade of testing and after painful,
sometimes deadly accidents that kill innocent people.
But trust it or love it like
an animal, like Verhoeven suggests?! Never! Even the suggestion is ridiculous.
And by the way, roads in the
Wild West were littered with cowboys who thought that their horse would bring
them home safely, in spite of their drunkenness.