A Science Fiction (?) Essay

The Singularity is coming.

You can’t stop it from coming—its been on its way ever since the first caveman struck the first spark—and sometime around 2045 it will change everything you think you know about life, society and . . . well, basically everything.

At least, that’s what a small but growing group of Singularitarians believe. But what, exactly, is this Singularity (don’t forget to capitalize it)?

In traditional science a singularity (note the lack of a big S) is a point in space-time where the normal rules of physics don’t apply. A black hole is the classic example. But that’s not the Singularity. No, the Singularity refers to the exponential and (eventually) explosive growth of technology. And it’s not that hard to imagine.

Picture life ten years ago: the iPod had just come out, cell phone screens didn’t do anything except show you text messages and the number you were dialing, and nobody had heard of a 3G network. Now step another ten years back: Discmans are all the rage, the Internet has barely begun and cell-phones are as big as bricks and restricted to the ridiculously rich. Another ten years: Atari is the cool kid on the block, cell phone what? Another ten years: desktop computers are making their first appearances in offices and homes. Ten more years: computers take up an entire room and the Apollo astronauts are running complex calculations using pencil and paper. Ten back again: computers take up entire floors of buildings and Sputnik hasn’t even launched. Another decade back: the first computer is as large as an entire building and helps the British crack Nazi message codes. And one more time, ten years back: no computers, no cell phones, no calculators. Nothing.

That’s what the Singularity describes: the continual, exponential increase in technological and computer power.  But where, you might well ask, is all of this heading?

Well, if you ask Ray Kurzweil, the answer is unimaginable. Literally. Kurzweil has been studying, and predicting, the Singularity for three decades now, and his prophecies are the stuff science fiction authors dream of. To put it shortly, Kurzweil posits that by 2045 computers will be artificially intelligent and have something like a billion times the computing power of all the human brains in the entire world. At that point these hyper-brains will be able to improve themselves faster than any human can understand, and they’ll start spewing out new inventions and revolutionary discoveries and stunning improvements to all aspects of society at an unprecedented rate.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Singularity.

The impact of this Singularity on society are beyond anything we could understand. And—get this—there is always the possibility that these super AI’s won’t even like us. Yep, you heard right. We could be on our way to inventing ourselves into extinction. Kind of a bummer, but . . . the new iPad 2 does look really cool.

Now, lets be optimistic and assume that our new robot super-friends play nice and help us out; what are the practical effects of the Singularity for the average person? According to Kurzweil, we’ll have all kinds of computer implants in our bodies that make life not just better, but cool too. Disease and illness won’t be an issue anymore; in fact, death won’t really be a problem either. Thanks to technology, humans will live indefinitely, or have the option—should they desire it—to load their consciousness into a computer network. Presto! Digital immortality.

And those are the tamest of Kurzweil’s predictions. He has other ideas that are even crazier. After the Singularity, humanity will expand into space, colonizing worlds at a faster and faster pace, sending out probes and nano-machines that convert entire worlds into gigantic computers. Eventually, the rate of outward expansion and conversion will near the speed of light, and the entire Universe will be brought under humanity’s (or at least, our silicon-based offsprings’) control.

Phew . . . that’s quite the mental ride.

Only, I’m not sure I buy it.  Here’s why:

Have you ever heard of the Fermi Paradox? There is an equation, developed by Dr. Frank Drake, which predicts how many intelligent alien species at a technological level sufficient to communicate with across space can be found in our galaxy at any one time. The Drake Equation has a lot of problems with it, but even when you assume ridiculously low values for things like star formation, planet formation and how often life arises, you still end up with the inescapable conclusion that there should be something out there. And, taking into account the new data pouring in about exoplanets, its more likely that there are a lot of somethings out there.

The Fermi Paradox, then, is this: if there are advanced civilizations out there in the galaxy, why haven’t we heard from them?

So what does that have to do with the Singularity? Well, lets start out by assuming that the conclusions drawn from the Drake Equation are valid and there is at least one technologically advanced civilization out there in the galaxy. Assuming that it takes the average civilization 5 billion years to reach the state we find ourselves in (that’s about how long it took us), and knowing that the universe is about 13 billion years old, odds are that our hypothetical alien civilization is more advanced then we are. And if the Singularitarians are right and a technological singularity is basically unavoidable, then this hypothetical civilization should have experienced the Singularity before we do. And if that’s the case . . . well, why hasn’t the universe already been remodeled by this expanding alien Singularity wave? Or at least our galaxy, for Pete’s sake; its only 100,000 light years wide.

To my mind, the most likely answer is: something is wrong with Kurzweil’s vision of the Singularity. For whatever reason, most

Okay, but now lets assume that Kurzweil is right and a Singularity is unavoidable. The fact that an alien Singularity hasn’t swallowed us up may suggest that there really aren’t any other civilizations out there. Bummer.

Out of these two possibilities, I think the first is more likely. Any number of things could happen to derail a civilization blithely on its way towards the Singularity: meteor impacts, catastrophic climate change, nuclear war, etc. In short, the Singularity is an interesting prediction that presents a plethora of problems and questions to anyone who bothers thinking about it for a while. How can we ensure that any artificial intelligences we create are friendly? Is immortality really a good thing? Would someone who’d been ‘uploaded’ really still be human? For that matter, what does it mean to be human? As the date for the Singularity draws near I’m sure more and more people will debate these fundamental questions.

Of course, there is a third possibility regarding both the Singularity and the Drake Equation—and it is both the most intriguing and disturbing scenario. What if both theories are true? What if there really is an alien civilization out there, and what if it already has passed its own Singularity?

Imagine for a moment that such a civilization was both benevolent and pacifist. As it expands through the galaxy and then the universe it converts any matter it comes across—sun, planets, even whole galaxies—into computing matter. When it comes across an inhabited planet like our own, it gives the planet’s inhabitants the gift of immortality by uploading their entire civilization into a vast, digital universe that is an exact replica of the original universe. Then, once the upload is complete, it proceeds to reprocess the now lifeless world.

Could this have already happened? Could our entire universe be housed inside the digital guts of an alien species? And if it hasn’t happened yet, will we even notice when it does?

Ok, so this is my first attempt at posting an essay on the blog. In fact, its the first essay I've written in . . . oh, a very long time, so its probably not very good. But I've been thinking about the subject for a few days now, and I wanted to get my thoughts down on paper (ok, ok . . . I didn't really write on paper) in some semblance of organization. Now, as you read this, keep in mind that I left religion out of the mix so  this essay doesn't really reflect my actual beliefs 100% accurately.

Questions:

1) Do you think the Singularity is coming?

2) Which of the three scenarios I present do you think is the most likely? Or, if you can think of another scenario that you think is more likely, what is it?

3) General impressions.

I cannot tell a lie

Hey folks! I promised to post 500 words a week, but my stories are kinda spinning their wheels at present, so I might be posting miscellanea for a while. On the other hand, that means you don't have to commit to a sustained reading of my stuff (at least not yet!) The following is a short essay about a book I just read, In Bed with the Word, a book about reading by Daniel Coleman.  I thought it might be interesting for people who read as much as we do.

I'm looking for any general proofreading issues (they way it's worded, spelling or grammar mistakes, etc.) but mostly in your reaction to the ideas.  I wrote the piece more or less under the assumption that people would know the book I'm talking about, but I want to know if it's clear to someone who hasn't read the book what I'm talking about.

If the essay is clear enough, what motivates you to read in general and science fiction and fantasy in specific?

I figure a conversation about reading is good for us, since we all intend someone else to read what we've written and if we understand why people read, perhaps we can write to better motivate people to read our stuff.  :)


     To my American mindset, the counterculture is essentially supposed to consist of “make peace, not war,” and “drugs, sex, and rock and roll.” But for a long time I have been unsettlingly amused by the way that “the man” has domesticated these supposedly independent aspects of American culture and made a pretty dollar in its distribution. I know I have often felt a strong social pressure to accept counterculture values as my own and to conform to accepted forms of nonconformity in dress, speech, music, and philosophy. I fear that counterculture has been transformed from liberator to conquistador, leaving it devoid of positive social impact. As an accepted norm, countercultural values can deny individuality just as readily as the values against which they rebelled.
     The primary value of counterculture is its willingness to question the accepted norms of society. As John Stuart Mill argues in On Liberty, this allows a culture to develop, whether or not a counterculture’s ideas are truer than the accepted norm: even largely fallacious arguments contain part of the truth, and even if they have nothing to offer, they prove the importance of the accepted argument. Counterculture is necessary if a society wants to avoid calcification and obsolescence. The conflict between establishment and dissent breathes life into a society and gives it direction as it works out the debate. But when the counterculture becomes the establishment, it is difficult to understand how to dissent against dissention and the function of questioning may be lost for a time.
     Against the incessant pace of technology’s march and the restless pull of consumer culture, Coleman recommends that an important countercultural activity is simply reading. Surrounded by electronic stimulus that gives us no rest and seems inescapably accompanied by the insistent demand that we consume more and think less, reading is inherently in opposition to the accepted norms. “Reading is counter-cultural mainly because it requires quiet time, being slow and meditative, and it is active rather than passive” (26). Coleman goes on to say that of course not all books are constructive and not all electronic media are destructive, but that as a general rule reading, by its meditative nature, provides a greater opportunity for spirituality and creativity. I would say that it allows us to act more and be acted upon less, liberating us from a state of subjection to other things and allowing us to develop an independent perspective.
     Coleman highlights another essential aspect of reading as counterculture: the dual application of the hermeneutics of suspicion and the hermeneutics of affirmation. Western culture has widely accepted the application of the hermeneutics of suspicion, creating an orthodoxy of skepticism. This has been, in my opinion, a powerful tool for social development as a means of dismantling unjust power structures and enfranchising the oppressed. When applied correctly, it should also to some extent free us from the grip of consumer culture as we approach advertising with skepticism. But I agree with Coleman that in absence of the hermeneutics of affirmation, the hermeneutics of suspicion can erode spiritual development by disallowing humility. “Spirituality assumes that I have something to learn and that I can learn it from the many things around me that draw me out of myself” (39) Coleman writes, but an all-pervasive suspicion undermines my ability to approach anything with the humility required to learn. In this way, reading – which requires humility and even vulnerability before the text in order to be done properly – gives an opportunity to pursue the hermeneutics of affirmation and develop a counterculturally positive perspective.

Works cited.
Coleman, Daniel. In Bed with the Word. Edmonton: Univ. Alberta Press, 2009. Print.