<\/a><\/td><\/tr><\/table><\/p>\nLast week Reader Cody211282 was having an interesting debate<\/a> in the comments about the nature of AI. Should the Geth in Mass Effect 2 be considered “alive”? Here is just a bit of the exchange:<\/p>\n But they aren't living they are machines, it's like comparing my computer to my dog(I know I'm dumbing it down a bit here), they can both do basic tasks and I love them both but one of them isn't alive and the other is. The Geth have software that dictates what they do, even Legion says the that only reason the Heretic Geth follow the Reapers is because of a computer glitch.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Points to the Mass Effect setting for this. This is exactly what I love about science fiction. When it’s good, it brings up questions about what life is, what intelligence is, how we perceive the universe, and why humans behave the way they do. When it’s really<\/em> good, it asks these questions in a way that leads to bigger questions, and allows the reader to ponder the answers for themselves.<\/p>\n In this particular debate, Cody is advocating the idea that no matter how smart a robot is, it’s never entitled to be regarded as alive, because it’s a machine. Which is true – it’s not<\/em> alive. But a lot of sci-fi fans (myself included) would insist that it be treated with [some of?] the rights we give to humans, simply because it’s intelligent. That is, your person-ness is based on intellect, not on construction methods. <\/p>\n But if someone accepts the position that persons must be organic, then as a sci-fi author you can play around with the idea by forcing the reader to figure out where they really<\/em> draw the line. What if we build a computer, but we used neurons instead of transistors? (But it otherwise operated like a normal computer. Maybe build yourself a nice organic Linux box, for example.) What if you built a robot, but you used an organic brain? What if you made a synthetic brain that operated identical to the human brain, Asimov-style? What exactly denotes personhood? The design, or the building materials? <\/p>\n Douglas Adams played around with this idea in The Restaurant at the End of the Universe<\/a> when he introduced an intelligent animal that had been bred to be eaten<\/a>:<\/p>\n ‘That’s absolutely horrible,’ exclaimed Arthur, ‘the most revolting thing I’ve ever heard.’<\/p>\n ‘What’s the problem Earthman?’ said Zaphod, now transfering his attention to the animal’s enormous rump.<\/p>\n ‘I just don’t want to eat an animal that’s standing there inviting me to,’ said Arthur, ‘It’s heartless.’<\/p>\n ‘Better than eating an animal that doesn’t want to be eaten,’ said Zaphod.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Of course the real problem here – and the one they never talk about because it would kill the humor – is that Arthur is actually upset at eating something intelligent. In his mind he’s granted person-hood to the creature, which takes it off the menu. The question isn’t “does this animal want to be eaten?” but “is this creature capable of understanding the question in the first place?”<\/p>\n
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