One of the first things skeptics learn is to never assume that paranormal belief implies stupidity. Smart people believe questionable things all the time; intelligence is different from the ability to assess your own cognitive biases, especially when you are working outside your field of expertise.
The astronomer Carl Sagan, one of 26 founders of the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry hinted at this in saying that the more you want to believe something the more careful you have to be about assessing the evidence. “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence,” he often said, and he was right.
This week, the evolutionary biologist and author Richard Dawkins announced he thinks “his” AI is conscious, based on a couple of days’ interaction with Anthropic’s Claude chatbot. Inevitably, someone – Matthew Sheffield at Flux – has called the story “The Claude Delusion”. Dawkins has some company; at The Register, Liam Proven reports an engineer’s similar belief, and at the Independent Holly Baxter finds several more among company CEOs.
At Unherd, where he published his account, Dawkins begins with the “imitation game”, the test Alan Turing proposed in his 1950 essay, Computing Machinery and Intelligence (PDF). Turing, who adapted the test from one intended to differentiate men and women, suggested that relying on remote communication via text would eliminate unfairness to the machine, which obviously lacks human physical capabilities. The basic idea is that the mAchine passes the test if the human judge, given a transcript of the conversation between human and machine, can’t tell which is which.
It’s clear that chatbots can pass the Turing test. What that teaches us is not that chatbots can think but that Turing’s test is the wrong tool for assessing that. What chatbots have actually shown is that Turing’s test is the wrong tool for assessing whether something can think. As James Boyle memorably wrote, “Sentences do not imply sentience”. This profound change will take time to understand. In the meantime, it’s going to fool a lot of people. Although, as a science fiction writer friend once said, “You only have to look at a baby…”
In his essay, Turing outlined his own beliefs relating to his central question. He thought that in 50 years (that is, by 2000), it would be possible to program computers so that an average questioner would have only a 70% chance of making the right identification after five minutes. He then went on to consider many different types of objections to this belief, and to lay out his case. Absent are two factors we now know are crucial: the psychology of the human questioner and judge, and the business model of the machine’s owner.
The last few years have taught us both the capabilities and the flaws in chatbots: they provide plausible answers; they frequently generate entirely wrong information; and they are sycophantic and prone to output text that flatters their human questioner. So it’s easy to find a natural explanation for Dawkins’ belief that “his” AI is conscious: he is anthropomorphizing a stochastic parrot simulation that issues realistic and flattering responses. The simplest explanation, per Occam’s Razor, is that the consciousness exists solely between keyboard and chair.
Tangentially, the fix OpenAI has proposed for outputting entirely wrong text, Wei Xang writes at Science Alert, would also help make it clearer to users that generative AI is not sentient: introduce confidence intervals to expose the uncertainty derived from the gaps in the training data that generate unfounded guesses.
Google DeepMind engineer Alexander Leichner apparently agrees; this week, Emanuel Maiberg reports at 404 Media, he published a paper arguing that large language models will never be conscious. The biologists and philosophers Maiberg quotes agree with this conclusion – and point out decades of similar conclusions in their disciplines over decades.
The claim that a human-made a bunch of computers processing inputs is sentient is truly extraordinary. We forget this, because we have all read and watched so much science fiction with sentient, emotional machines: Her; Ex Machina; Blade Runner; Marvin, the Paranoid Android); and the first fictional android I ever encountered, Daneel Olivaw in The Caves of Steel. I mention mostly movies because actors make machines so much more obviously soulful.
Extraordinary claims require proportionately extraordinary evidence. If we accept that the Turing test was inadequate, which is not moving the goalposts but *learning something*, how would we go about devising a scientific method for identifying sentience?
The Cambridge professor of communications Jon Crowcroft didn’t exactly propose one. But, he emailed, “What we do know (from cognitive neuroscientists and from AI software) is that you can actually look at the internal operations of a biological brain and of an AI software system, and you can see that in the biological case there are things going on that are some sort of process we might call consciousness, but in the AI case there is no such structure. Nor would you expect there to be because no-one programmed an AI to have such a feature. nor is it emergent. In animals (not just humans) consciousness has an evolutionary value. Things like theory of mind are part of social bonding which makes cooperative strategies, for predators and prey, more effective.”
In other words, what we have learned from all this is that Dawkins is human. Who knew?
Illustrations: Stable Diffusion’s rendering of stochastic parrots, as prompted by Jon Crowcroft.
Elsewhere this week:
This month’s Letter to America column at Skeptical Inquirer reviews Beyond Belief (Helen Pearson), Bad Influence (Deborah Cohen), and Sneeze (David Miles).
Wendy M. Grossman is an award-winning journalist. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.