Rose Baker --- Mountains, AI, and worship

            In one lecture, Dr. Redick showed pictures of an inactive volcano, adding that many ancient peoples viewed volcanoes as gods or godlike entities. Akin to sailors’ reverence for the sea, volcanoes were a force of nature that escaped prediction or understanding, holding immense raw power and subjecting those caught in their fury to a cosmic experience that humans could not help but project majesty and identity upon. When living in communion with these fearsome natural forces, they would often begin to worship, fear, and sacrifice. Culturally, these god-objects take on intent, and their objectives begin to assert themselves upon the people. E.g., “The sea is angry because women are on board,” “The mountain desires sacrifices.”

Last week, I visited the Torggler and saw a ceramic sculpture which resembled a desert mesa, extruded in layers by a 3d-printer which mimicked colorful, topographical layers of rock and earth. Streaking down the sculpture were droplets of silver metal. I had two visual interpretations. My first impression was that some human construction, like power lines, had melted in the heat, succumbing to nature. In stark contrast, the second perspective recast the mesa as a mountain, or volcano, placing it as “man’s new mountain,” formed by machine in replication of the unguided, extended processes through which tectonic plates collide to form mountains or forgotten rivers cut channels through desert stone. Now the mesa-turned-mountain-turned-volcano, dripping with molten steel, takes on the same godship as a true volcano, only this man-made god is one of industry, technology, and fabrication. As a worshipped object-god, the mountain holds power over our fates.

While scrolling Instagram, I encountered a snippet of the New Yorker article, “Will the Humanities Survive AI?” The article discussed an AI based university assignment from the professor’s perspective. The part that interested me was his reflection on what students—and all individuals—have to contend with as AI continues to grow and partake in larger portions of our lives. He described human interaction with AI as “an encounter with something part sibling, part rival, part careless child-god, part mechanomorphic shadow—an alien familiar.” AI is of our our own creation, endowed with our characteristics, but ultimately like an any natural force---or now, technology---we begin to rewrite our very society to serve its needs.

Recently in a comment section of an AI-generated image, commenters were encouraging others to not share what wonky details had made them recognize the image as AI. One commenter responded, neatly outlining their realization process, and attracting even more ire with their defense: "AI is unstoppable, and I'm curious to watch as it learns. How human can it get?" Similarly disturbing are the responses of those with the money and influence to have any hope of directing this: "it's inevitable." At home, my father's daily diatribe takes the form of: "Nobody wanted this. Only companies wanted this."

Perhaps the dangers of sentient AI, “robot gods,” were not that they would impose their own will, but that we would attribute a force to them, that we would both establish them and do their bidding, like every god created by man. We further the causes we believe their existence demands, calling for action by their simple existence. They exist, and the worship begins.