The Future Isn’t What It Used to Be (And Thank Goodness)
As kids of the 1980s, surrounded by a boom in science magazines with utterly ridiculous headlines, we were told that...
As kids of the 1980s, surrounded by a boom in science magazines with utterly ridiculous headlines, we were told that by 2025 there would be flying cars straight out of Back to the Future, humanoid butlers doing all the housework, human colonies on the Moon, underwater cities, smart closets that would pick your outfits for you, and holographic television. We were also promised that our lives would unfold in virtual reality spaces, that we’d have domestic nuclear fusion reactors, autonomous public transport, supersonic trains in vacuum tubes, and that life expectancy would stretch to 150 years.
Here we are, hurtling toward the end of 2025. Cars don’t fly — unless you’re going so fast you can’t see the curve — the closest thing to a humanoid butler is a know-it-all tabletop orb that can play your favorite song when you wake up (just like my 1986 alarm clock did with my favorite radio show), and as far as anyone knows, the only human colonies on the Moon are a few guys who got lost on the way home from a bachelor party in Las Vegas.
No sign of underwater cities, closets are still as dumb as yesterday, and, just like in the ’80s, holographic television is only available to people who happen to have LSD in their pockets. As for the majestic virtual reality spaces where we’d chat with friends and work virtually, the closest thing we’ve achieved is something like the Metaverse — basically like a chat group of school-class moms mashed up with 1980s MS-DOS graphics.
Hyperloop’s supersonic trains haven’t arrived on time, scientists are still hashing out the minor inconvenience of actually getting passengers to their destinations alive…
Unless my washing machine spinning is a domestic nuclear fusion reactor — the loudest one in the neighborhood — they’re not here either. Hyperloop’s supersonic trains haven’t arrived on time, scientists are still hashing out the minor inconvenience of actually getting passengers to their destinations alive, and the only known case of life expectancy hitting 150 years is Joe Biden.
AI already knows how to do almost everything. Now it just needs to learn how to do it well. In the 1990s, Hans Moravec predicted that by 2040, robots would outperform humans at everything — an achievement to be reached in three phases. By 2000, they’d be handling tedious, repetitive tasks; if that includes my glass-ceramic stove beeping incessantly whenever a slice of cheese lands on the buttons, they’ve nailed it. By 2010, Moravec predicted robots would tackle complex tasks like “cleaning bathrooms.” Honestly, I left Alexa on my sink three weeks ago, saying, “Go ahead, it’s all yours! Make it sparkle!” and her lights are still blinking, wondering where to start. (RELATED: The Thinking Machines That Weren’t)
By 2020, Moravec foresaw robots having internal supervision that “would shape their character: what they like to do and what they prefer not to do.” Perhaps this has been achieved, although every AI in my house, when confronted with a complex problem, has mastered Melville’s Bartleby line in unison: “I would prefer not to.” A skill I, however, can execute much better — just ask my mom first, and then my ex-girlfriends.
I don’t know if it was drugs or natural genius, but Moravec went completely off the rails in the final part of his 1995 predictions, claiming that robots would become conscious, capable of feeling, and would surpass human cognition. I understand that any free AI, developed by amateurs, could easily outthink certain men — for example, those waving Palestinian flags at American universities — but I have serious doubts (I just tried this) that Gemini AI’s response is sincere when I say, “You broke my heart”: “(stands, bows, hand on chest) I am so sorry, truly.” (RELATED: AI Is Not the Monster — It Is a Mirror)
Moravec broke the mold by claiming that after all these developments, robots would see us as their parents — like Adam and Eve — and look down on human history, then reconstruct and simulate all of it down to the atomic level, creating digital versions of ourselves that would live forever inside these simulations, in what he called our “resurrection.”
I confess I dream of trying the cigarettes Moravec smoked in 1995. Otherwise, no offense, but between the resurrection of my digital self, beeping and flashing blue screens in its eyes, and the promise of Jesus Christ, I’d take angels with trumpets and all the apocalyptic fanfare leading to Paradise. At least there, there will be supersonic trains, self-cleaning bathrooms, and even the most advanced, arrogant AI will sound as backward and ridiculous as Netscape 1.0.
READ MORE from Itxu Díaz:
An Immense Ray of Light Pierces the Heart of the West
What's Your Reaction?
