In this constantly changing post, I’ll do my best to define terms, acknowledge assumptions, discuss arguments, and give my opinions on the initial question and its implications. Most of them come from discussions I had in my CSCI 375 Ethics and Epistemology of AI class with Prof. McCarrin at Oberlin College.
One thing that I found interesting about the many arguments discussed on this topic is that they will eventually tell us more about ourselves than about the machines themselves: whether our mind is fully material or not, whether we have free will or not, what “human understanding” is, and much more. Thus, and I think many fail to see this, the question posed can no longer be answered in isolation from the realm of Computer Science.
Perhaps in the future I’ll add a table of contents with the different arguments and definitions.
Right now, I want to focus on the idea of stochastic parrots discussed by Bender et al. (2021). I recommend reading the article because I will not be just summarizing its claims.
What makes the “stochastic parrot” critique so interesting is that many of the rebuttals to it seem to answer a weaker claim than the one Bender et al. were actually focusing on. The easy rebuttal is: these systems are not merely copying and pasting their training data with some probabilistic magic. Fair enough. With fine-tuning and post-training methods, LLMs can in fact become more coherent, produce correct outputs, and have some level of ground-truth checking in a certain context. That much is true to the extent I understand, but I do not think this really settles the deeper issue.
The stronger version of the parrots argument is not about this probabilistic bird, but more the way we see them. We have a tendency to encounter fluent language and immediately infer mind, intention, understanding, and even personhood. For now, I lack good sources to corroborate this claim. Oddly enough, one analogy that comes to my mind is from Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End. The comparison may sound fantastical (or foolish), but I think it gets at something real. In Frieren, demons, a race of human-eating monsters, can reproduce human speech not because they share human feelings, but because they learn which words affect humans and how we empathize when we feel like we are talking with another being. A demon might learn to say “mom” when it is attacked, not out of love, empathy, or if the human is a mom or not. This demon has simply learned that the word can keep humans from ki***ng it. In an analogous way, LLMs can produce language associated with wisdom, honesty, or even care without possessing any of those qualities, and instinctively we add those qualities to the thing that is chatting with us.
Other than that, I believe the focus is understanding and acknowledging the limitations of any LLM. I fear that with the many implementations of agentic AI may not be adversting enough the limitations of such systems. Similarly, if you try to make a parrot say something that has never been said, these models often cannot and, specifically, will hallucinate because there is no data to help predict the next chunk based on existing ones. We truly need a next “Attention is all you need” article to develop another infrastructure that is based on the logic of our world, the physics, the mathematics, and above all our human principles (hopefully good ones).
The next question that came to me after this discussion is: how can we determine when a machine can think?
References:
[1] Bender, E. M., Gebru, T., McMillan-Major, A., & Shmitchell, S. (2021). On the dangers of stochastic parrots: Can language models be too big? In Proceedings of the 2021 ACM Conference on Fairness, Accountability, and Transparency (pp. 610–623). ACM. https://doi.org/10.1145/3442188.3445922
]]>My interest in lucid dreaming started back in high school. I often had vivid dreams that I could recall in great detail the next morning—complete nonsense most of the time. Sometimes, the dream would start on a good note and suddenly anything could happen (bad or good). This made me curious—what if I could control my dreams?
In case you’re wondering what lucid dreaming is: Lucid dreaming or LD (as a shorthand notation that I’ll be using) is when you’re aware that you’re dreaming and can (sometimes) influence the dream.
From the meditative practices of Tibetan Dream Yoga (Stumbrys et al., 2012) to modern neuroscience, as with many human experiences, there are both ancient wisdom and scientific explanations.
One might argue that LD doesn’t exist, that it is only a kind of dream. However, we have scientific evidence that shows otherwise. Hearne (1978) conducted the first detection of LD known to us, by detecting a specific pattern of eye movements previously discussed with the subjects that could not be explained by random movements during REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep.
In college, I wrote a review paper on Lucid Dreaming, as an attempt to understand the science behind it and what efforts were made to deepen our understanding of this experience. In my exploration, I discussed the connection between lucid dreams and REM sleep, techniques to induce them (like the Mnemonic Induction of Lucid Dreams, MILD), and even the potential role of substances like Vitamin B6 in enhancing dream recall and lucidity.
I found exaggerated statements and some disagreements in the state-of-the-art. Unfortunately, due to a lack of good quality articles, there could be many articles that cannot fully explain the underlying principles of LD.
For me, lucid dreaming became more than a fascination—it was a way to explore the boundaries of imagination. And while there’s so much still to learn, the potential for discovery is truly limitless.
References:
Stumbrys, T., Erlacher, D., Schädlich, M., & Schredl, M. (2012). Induction of lucid dreams: A systematic review of evidence. Consciousness and Cognition, 21(3), 1456–1475. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.concog.2012.07.003
Hearne, K. M. T. (1978). Lucid dreams: An electro-physiological and psychological study [Doctoral thesis, University of Liverpool].
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