Wednesday, 12 August 2015

Artificial Intelligence (AI): All About Algorithms?




...Thoughts-Computations-Rules-Algorithms...


Many "cognitivists" believe that the brain is a computer. (Sometimes they say “a kind of computer”.) Thus, as a result of this belief, they attempt to discover the computational processes which enable such things as perception and learning. However, expressed in that manner (as it often is), things are a little unclear.


Such cognitivists believe that the brain is also a machine – a computing machine.


Computationalists (computationalism is a branch of cognitivism) claim that all thought is computation. But what does that mean? Are the words 'thought' and 'computation' are virtual (or literal) synonyms?


This is more clearly the case because it seems that almost all conscious processes in the brain are deemed to be thoughts; and thus also deemed to be computations.


That not only includes the thought that 1 plus 1 equals 4 or that Snow is white; but also the rotation of a mental image in the mind, imagining the smell of a rose and so on. Then again, if rotating a mental image is classed as a thought, then why can't it also be classed as a computation? Especially since, in computationalism, they appear to by synonyms.


It all now depends on what we mean by the word 'computation'.


For a start, we can make the following claims:


i) All of a computer's processes are computations.


ii) Not all conscious human mental processes are computations.


Similarly, we can say:


iii) Many human mental processes are thoughts.


iv) No computer computations are thoughts (i.e. because thoughts have semantic content, intentionality, reference, etc.).


Rules Rule, Okay?


Is everything that happens consciously in the mind a computation? Or, perhaps more tellingly, is it all rule-governed? Jerry Fodor doesn't think so. He says that


some of the most striking things that people do – ‘creative’ things like writing poems, discovering laws, or, generally, having good ideas – don’t feel like species of rule-governed processes”.


The way Fodor puts his position doesn't really help matters Sure, such things may not “feel like species of rule-governed processes”. However, that doesn't mean that they aren't rule-governed processes. Far from it. This is the same phenomenological approach that's applied to free will. Here again most people “feel like” they have free will. Though, on close inspection, that claim (about what things feel like) amounts to almost nothing.


On Fodor's behalf it can now be asked what something's being rule-governed could possibly mean in the varied contexts of “writing poems, discovering laws, or, generally, having good ideas”. Are these disparate things really united by the following of rules (if at the non-conscious level)? Well that would depend on what's meant by the words “rules-governed”. 


We can take this somewhat further.


If writing poems, discovering laws and having good ideas are rule-governed, then these creative processes must be following some kinds of algorithm. And following on from that, they must be computable. What's more, this could mean that these processes are rote in some (or sometimes all) respects. Not in the sense of conscious acts of rote learning (or memory); but in the respect that the brain (or physiological system) has 'acquired' certain modules/faculties/etc. - or that such things are innate.


Haven't we simply moved from one technical term (i.e., 'rule-governed') to two more – 'algorithms' and 'computable'? After all, the words 'algorithms' and 'computations' can both be be cashed out in terms of following rules or being rule-governed.


So let's quote a definition of the word 'algorithm' as it's specifically used in reference to computers:


An algorithm is basically an instance of logic written in software by software developers to be effective for the intended 'target' computer(s) to produce output from given input (perhaps null).”


The mention of 'logic' (along with the very mechanical way of describing both what an algorithm does and how it comes to be) seems to make Fodor's earlier claim a little more convincing. Can we say that “an instance of logic” (or instances of logic) is required to “write poems, discover laws, or, generally, having good ideas”? Yes, we can! It's certainly the case that - in a limited sense - instances of logic/algorithms will be involved in these processes. The thing is, it surely can't be said that it's all about logic or algorithms. 

We can now say that logic or algorithms can be applied to some things (or to all things!) which aren't themselves logical or algorithmic.


Bad Computers


Kurt Gödel is often brought into the picture in order to show us what humans have and what computers (ostensibly) don't have.


For example, there's much talk about human brains having a "rule-free flexibility" and “unlimited mathematical abilities”. Thus there's also talk about “intuition” and “direct insight”. Of course these abilities can be seen to run free (conceptually speaking) of other things that computers don't have: such as qualia, emotions and suchlike. Then again, some would say that they all form a Gödelian package.


In concrete terms, there's the argument that humans can solve computational problems which computers can't solve. (Note that this hasn't got anything directly to do with computers not being able to write poems or have an orgasm.) This Gödelian claim that “no such limits apply to the human intellect” is, as Alan Turing argued in 1950, often “merely stated, without any sort of proof”.


In any case, various consequences are put forward as being a result of computers not having our (as it were) Gödel faculty. They include the fact that most computers crash for trivial reasons (e.g., because of faulty software or bad input). This is said to be due to the rule-fixated nature of computers; unlike human beings who have (as stated) a Gödel faculty.


All this is seen to be a direct result of computers needing a rule or algorithm for literally everything they do. More concretely, computers show no intuition or insight; and, in most cases, they don't learn from their mistakes or learn not to make mistakes. (Though this isn't true of all computers or even all aspects of each computer.)


Here again philosophers stress human uniqueness. Hubert Dreyfus, for example, argues that there are many examples of mental activity and behaviour that aren't a question of following rules. As Dreyfus himself puts it, computers lack the “immediate intuitive situational response that is characteristic of [human] expertise”. Consequently, persons 


“must depend almost entirely on intuition and hardly at all on analysis and comparison of alternatives”. 

Basically, some people argue that these Gödelian things can't be programmed into a computer.


The science writer John Horgan also tells us what computers are bad at. He writes:


“ Computers may excel at precisely defined tasks such as mathematics and chess.... but they still perform abysmally when confronted with the kind of problems – recognising a face or voice or walking down a crowded pavement – that human solve effortlessly.” (1996).


To state the obvious, the above are all programming problems. And they're programming problems because the number of variables the computer (as well as a person) needs to take into account when it comes to “recognising a face or voice or walking down a crowded pavement” are huge (or indefinite) in number. However, persons, it can be argued, don't (really?) need to be programmed in these cases: they react situationally. That is, persons can act upon - and react to - novel situations; even though (it can be said) these situations aren't entirely novel.


The philosopher George Rey also states the case that computers don't have a full logical package. He writes:


“Intelligence requires doing well under non-ideal conditions as well... But performing well under varied conditions is precisely what we know existing computers tend not to do. Decreasingly ideal cases require increasingly clever inferences to the best explanation in order for judgements to come out true; and characterising such inferences is one of the central problems confronting artificial intelligence...” (1986)


Here again we see that in all the cases in which a computer doesn't have a rule or algorithm to follow, then it doesn't know what to do. Of course you can create rules which tell a computer what to do when there are no existing rules; though that would depend on the nature of these meta-rules as well as upon the new conditions the computer is facing.


To sum up in the language of logic: computers aren't very good at “inferences to the best explanation” when they find themselves in “non-ideal conditions”.


Good Computers


Nonetheless, all sorts of new factors have been added to computers to simulate intuition or Gödelian intelligence. Such things as quantum computers based on “entangled qubits”, the introduction of random factors (e.g., annealing approaches) and hardware neural nets have been added into the computer-pot.


In any case, we already know about computer randomness. Even von Neumann machines can modify their own programmes (i.e., they can learn). That means that some of their responses (or output) are unpredictable. All this is achieved, in general, by equipping a computer with certain random elements which the computer can work on to produce outputs which are unexpected (i.e., which have moved beyond the programmed data). Indeed all this was theorised about by Turing as long ago as 1938.


Even with early Turing machines there was a requirement that such machines be able to follow their own rules or show what some people (at the time) called “initiative”. It was said that a programmer could engineer an element of randomness into the computer (or into the programme). That was what Alan Turing himself tried to do with his “Manchester computer” (1948-50). That meant that such randomness (as it were) would bring about “intuition” (or initiative) in the Turing machine – or even free will!


So when (not if):


i) A random element is introduced into a Turing machine (or a computer),


ii) and that computer manages to follow rules not laid down by the programmer,


iii) and as a result of that it solves its own problems,


iv) then that computer has learned something of its own accord or it even has “intuition”.


Thus there's no “appearance” about it! In this limited respect, the computer is free from its programmer. Or it has a “will” which is independent of its programmers. This isn't to say that it has either a mind or a (free) will in the human sense; though the independence (or freedom) is certainly real.


I think it would also be correct to say that a Turing machine “could have done something else” with the same input. That is, the same random change (mentioned by Turing) to the Turning machine can have different results in terms of what it produces. (E.g., a different calculation or even a different action – though a calculation is an action of sorts.)


More specifically in terms of today's computer programmes, there's what is called “machine learning” in which computer programmes have the ability to “self-modify”. These include programmes which themselves include ensemble learning, current-best-hypothesis learning, explanation-based learning, decision-tree learning, reinforcement learning, Bayesian statistical learning, instance-based learning and so on.


Despite all that, it's still said (by some) that none of these things (not even collectively) produce a Gödelian mind. That's because all these additions can still be reduced to Turing machines (along with their limitations). Sure, they make computers much better; though it's still said that they don't make them Gödelian.


References


Dreyfus, Herbert. (1992) What Computers Still Can't Do
Fodor, Jerry. (1975) The Language of Thought
Horgan, John. (1996) The End of Science
Rey, George. (1986) 'A Question about Consciousness'
Turing, Alan. (1939) 'Systems of logic defined by ordinals'
-- (1950) 'Computing Machinery and Intelligence', Mind LIX:433-460.


Monday, 10 August 2015

Advocates of Artificial Intelligence as Behaviourists


In extremely general terms, it can said that behaviourism was a response to the Cartesian (or, even more widely, Western) philosophical tradition in which behaviour, actions, and what is done by persons was seen as the outward expression of what goes on in the mind. Thus, in that sense, many of those who were initially involved in artificial intelligence (AI) were following in behaviourism's footsteps in that they believed that if a computer (or robot) behaved as if it had intelligence (or had a mind), then, almost by definition, it must actually be intelligent (or have a mind).



Many other currents in post-World War Two philosophy played-down the innards of the mind and, consequently, played-up behaviour. We had the work of the late Wittgenstein in which private mental states were seen as nothing more than "beetles in boxes". We also had Gilbert Ryle's The Concept of Mind and Quine saying that all there is to meaning is “overt behaviour”. And then functionalism (in the philosophy of mind) followed all that.


Specifically in terms of AI: it can fairly safely be said that many of the defenders of AI denied (or simply played-down) the distinction between actions (or behaviour) and what's supposed to be “behind” action (or behaviour). Thus if that "binary opposition" is rejected, then all we have to go on are the actions (or behaviour) of computers. And if computers pass the Turning test, then they're intelligent. Full stop. Indeed it's only a few behavioural steps forward from this to argue that computers actually have minds.


Of course if we follow this line to the letter, then it can be said that Zombies also have minds; as well as consciousness. And a thermostat has a little bit of a mind too.


If you think my last inclusion of a thermostat is ridiculous, then here's John Searle talking about the inventor of the term "artificial intelligence", John McCarthy. Searle writes:


“McCarthy says 'even a machine as simple as a thermostat can be said to have beliefs.' I admire McCarthy's courage. I once asked him 'What beliefs does your thermostat have?' And he said 'My thermostat has three beliefs – it believes it's too hot in here, it's too cold in here, and it's just right in here.'...” (1984)


Weak and Strong AI


This is where the distinction between strong and weak AI comes into play.


Weak AI proponents argue that it's unquestionably the case that some computers (or all computers?) act as if they're intelligent (or have minds). Though the operative words here are “as if”. Thus, they continue, it may take a little bit more time to develop computers which have "genuine intelligence" (whatever that is) or have minds. In other words, there has to be more than behaviour (or actions) to intelligence or mind.


Alan Turing himself put the weak AI position when he argued that it doesn't matter if a machine has a mind in the human sense: what matters is whether or not it can act in the way that human beings act – i.e. intelligently. (In those days that basically meant answering questions and solving mathematical problems.) In fact that was the crux of the Turing test which resulted in the Dartmouth proposal. Namely:


"Every aspect of learning or any other feature of intelligence can be so precisely described that a machine can be made to simulate it." (1955)


John Searle states the strong AI hypothesis (with all its behaviourist trappings) in the following way:


“The other minds reply (Yale). 'How do you know that other people understand Chinese or anything else? Only by their behaviour. Now the computer can pass the behavioural tests as well as they can (in principle), so if you are going to attribute cognition to other people you must in principle also attribute it to computers.'...” (1980)


Strong AI bites the bullet and denies the distinction between behaviour and mind/intelligence: 


If a computer acts (or behaves) as if it's intelligent (or has a mind), then it is intelligent (or has a mind). 

In other words, even though I've just written the words “as if”, there's no actual as if about it.


So why worry our pretty little heads about what must lie behind these expressions of mind or intelligence? In true behaviourist fashion, all we really need (or have!) is behaviour.


Sentience and Sapience


When it's said that there's no way that we can know (or tell) that a computer is sentient, it seems incredible. This is usually said about animals or even about other human beings. However, logically the same thing can indeed be said about computers; though, admittedly, not with the same force or implications.


Of course other human beings can tell us that they're sentient (even if they don't use the words “I'm sentient”). Animals, on the other hand, can hint (as it were) at their sentience. Then again, it's also possible that a future computer could do the same.


So let's get a little but more concrete about all this. 

I just mentioned that the display of intelligence (or mind) is deemed to be intelligence (or mind). And computers certainly display intelligence. For example, computers can solve problems, play games (e.g., chess), prove mathematical theorems, diagnose medical problems, use language and so on. What more do we want?


All these things are undoubtedly displays of intelligence; though are they also displays of mind? However, just as I mentioned the mind-behaviour binary opposition; so we have the intelligence-mind opposition too. That means we can construct an argument which takes us from behaviour to intelligence; and then from intelligence to mind. Thus:


         i) If a computer behaves intelligently,
        ii) then it is intelligent.
       iii) If computer is intelligent,
        v) then it must have a mind.


Prima facie, it does seem to be the case that when other people do intelligent things, then we (as good behaviourists) say that they're intelligent; whereas when the same actions are done by a computer it rarely evokes the same response (or, at the least, not exactly the same kind of response). After all, doesn't winning a game of chess match, etc. most people's criteria of a genuine display of intelligence?


References


Searle, John. (1984) Mind, Brains and Science. London: BBC Publications.
-- (1980) 'Minds, Brains, and Programs'. Behavioural and Brain Sciences 3.
J. McCarthy, M. L. Minsky, N. Rochester, C.E. Shannon. (1955) 'A Proposal for the Dartmouth Summer Research Project on Artificial Intelligence'

Holisms (2) – Donald Davidson


We have many versions of semantic holism in the philosophy of language and the philosophy of thought.

Take Donald Davidson.

Davidson believed that the

account of the truth-conditions for any one sentence is systematically related to the account of the truth-conditions for a whole range of other sentences”.

(We can now ask: How large must this range of other sentences be?)

We can clarify Davidson’s semantic holism in terms of the systematicity of a concept-expression and its possession. As Michael Luntley puts it:

The axiom governing any single concept expression does not itself specify the meaning of the expression; it does so only in the context of an overall theory that employs that axiom in a systematic manner to compute the meaning of whole sentences in which the concept expression figures.” (1999)

The starting point of Davidson’s theory is Frege’s Context Principle in which the meaning of an expression is determined by its context and place within a truth-valued sentence. Davidson extends Frege’s Context Principle to include other sentences in which the said expression occurs. It's from this group of sentences (large or small) that we can compute the expression’s meaning within the context of an overall theory.

We also have a well-known statement from Davidson on meaning-holism that's sometimes taken as a criticism of holism; though, at other times, simply taken as an explanation of the phenomenon.

In his paper, ‘Truth and Meaning’, Davidson writes:

If sentences depend for their meaning on their structure, and we understand the meaning of each item in the structure only as an abstraction from the totality of sentences in which it features, then we can give the meaning of any sentence (or word) only by giving the meaning of every sentence (and word) in the language.” (1967)

This may not mean that the individual speaker (or thinker) need understand (or know) every word and sentence in the language at the moment of his understanding: only that in effect the meaning of a word or sentence is ultimately determined by - and depends upon - the entire language (regardless of the complete understanding of the individual speaker or thinker).

For example, the possible moves in a game of chess are finite though very large. It needn't be the case that the individual chess-player understands (or knows) all the possible moves in the game of chess in order to make a single move (or understand the rules of chess generally).

The same with definitions.

There will come a time that the indefinite regress of definitions (or definitions of definitions) will come to end when the original definiendum comes back on the scene. However, it doesn't follow that the individual speaker (or thinker) need go through this indefinite regress in order to use (or understand) the word under definition - even if an indefinite regress is entailed by the original definition.

The individual speaker (or thinker) needs to begin somewhere; just as the epistemologist won't attempt to justify all his premises in an argument of justification. Even the semantic sceptic needs Wittgenstein’s ‘hinges’ to turn on in order to get his sceptical show on the road.

References

Davidson, Donald, 'Truth and Meaning' (1967)
Luntley, Michael, Contemporary Philosophy of Thought: Truth, World, Content (1999).

Holisms (1)



We can find non-semantic holisms in various areas of philosophy. For example, here's Christopher Peacocke giving an account of what may be called thing holism:

Sometimes, perhaps always, a thing (property, relation) is individuated in part by its relations to other things, properties or relations.” (243)

Peacocke then goes into detail about what can also be called locational holism. He writes:

First, what it is to be a particular place cannot be explained without mentioning the network of spatial relations in which the place stands.” (243)

This is why many philosophical atomists have been suspicious of holism/s in that if all an object (or word’s) relations are constitutive of its identity (or meaning), then such relations will be indefinite - if not infinite - in number. Thus, in order to identify an object (or understand a word) we'd have to take into account the whole universe (or every single other word in the language) in order to do so. In that case, we're not too far from the 19th century idealist’s Absolute.

An individual speaker or thinker needn't understand or know every word that has a definitional relation to the word he's thinking or speaking about. Similarly with holism about objects. In order to successfully identify, locate or individuate an object, we simply don't to identify or know all its relations (or relational properties) - even if such things are indeed indefinite - or even infinite - in number.

In the first case of holism about language: we have a question about the individual speaker or thinker and then another question about the language itself. Similarly with the person who identifies an object. At first we have a question concerning the way in which he identifies the object (in a single act of identification) and then we have a further question as to the entire set of relations (or relational properties) which the identified object may or may not possess. In both the language and object cases, the situation of the subject and the language or object as they are in themselves are different matters which shouldn't be confused.

Reference

Peacocke, Christopher, 'Holism' (1999), in A Companion to the Philosophy of Language, edited by Bob Hale and Crispin Wright.

 

Thursday, 6 August 2015

Endless Extrinsic & Intrinsic Properties





Endless Extrinsic & Intrinsic Properties

The thing about extrinsic properties is that they appear to be indefinite - or even infinite - in number. One could argue, then, that if extrinsic properties are indeed indefinite in number, then what's the point of the classification? Wouldn't you need to make a somewhat arbitrary (or random) choice as to which ones to include and exclude?

For example, Mary's being a friend of John is an extrinsic property of Mary. Then again, Mary's being near a sewage works is also an extrinsic feature of Mary.

Similarly, if having a mass of 200kg is an intrinsic feature of object a, then having a mass of 201kg can be an intrinsic feature of object b. What's more, object a may have a intrinsic mass of 200kg at time t and an intrinsic mass of 2001kg at t2. Thus a and b may change positions when it comes to their intrinsic masses.

Take this other problem.

Why would Mary's extrinsic property of being related to John be deemed more important than Mary's having a daily causal relations with professors? In fact, in order to decipher which extrinsic properties are important/fundamental and which aren't, we'd surely be raising the former to the category of intrinsic properties. Thus the closer extrinsic properties come to being important/fundamental, the more they resemble intrinsic properties.

Can we invert this argument by doing the same with intrinsic properties? Are there levels of intrinsicality (as it were) between intrinsic properties?

In other words, are some intrinsic properties more fundamental/important than others? And if that's the case, then perhaps some intrinsic properties are closer to fundamental/important extrinsic properties than to other intrinsic properties. So much so that they may as well be classified as extrinsic properties.

Similarly (as already said) with fundamental/important extrinsic properties, they too may as well be classified as intrinsic properties.

Or, better still, why not jettison the intrinsic/extrinsic distinction altogether and stick with the fundamental/not-fundamental (or important/not-important) distinction instead (as Quine once did in relation to essential properties)?

Endless Relational Properties

You have to also wonder what's the point of some relational properties; just as we've just wondered about the nature of some extrinsic properties.

For example, take the relational human property having more cells than fingers. Now that can be seen not only as a relational property, but also as an intrinsic property in that any all human beings will have the property having more cells than fingers. (That's because there must be more cells in one finger than there are fingers.) However, if it's a unprofitable relational property, then surely it's even more unprofitable as a intrinsic relational property.

Despite saying that, we can deny the property having more cells than fingers its intrinsic nature by saying that both fingers (of whatever number) and cells (of whatever number) aren't themselves intrinsic in the first place. Thus the relation between the two can't be deemed intrinsic either. And here, yet again, is another good reason to reject the intrinsic-extrinsic (or, in this case, intrinsic/relational) distinction entirely.

Here we can add that having X as a “proper part” is also seen as being intrinsic by some philosophers. Thus both fingers and cells can be deemed to be proper parts of human beings (or homo sapiens). If they are, then perhaps they're also intrinsic in nature.

Are they relational?

Well, a human being certainly has some kind of relation to his or her own fingers or cells. Though is it right to call this an intrinsically relational property? Isn't it best to say that fingers or cells are part of the package which constitute a human being? What does it mean to say that a human - or even a person - has a (intrinsic) relation to his cells or fingers? Sure, there's some kinds of causal relations that can be established between a human being and his/her cells and fingers; though is there an intrinsic (essential) relation?

In that case, what is related to what?

If we take away fingers, cells and similar properties, what would be left of a human being so that it could have a relation to what remains? What I mean by that is if one takes away all these kinds of properties, perhaps there's no human being left. And if that's the case, then it may not make sense to speak of a human being having a relation to such things as his cells or fingers. It would certainly make the notion of an intrinsic relation between such proper parts and a human being problematic.