Discuss technology Argumentation type bac

October 1, 2015

Markoff1 begins with the story of Bill Duvall, a young programmer hired to write code for Shakey2. Duvall became frustrated with the limitations of the robotics project and decamped to another research group, just down the hall at Stanford Research Institute, which was engaged in an entirely different sort of enterprise, called the N.L.S., or “oN-Line System.” This project, led by a computer scientist named Doug Engelbart, was aimed at creating “an interactive system to capture knowledge and organize information in such a way that it would now be possible for a small group of people—scientists, engineers, educators—to create and collaborate more effectively.” The project, in other words, was an early version of the Internet. Not long after walking down the hall and leaving Shakey to its own limited and whirring devices, Duvall used Engelbart's N.L.S. software to connect a computer in Menlo Park to one in Los Angeles via a data line rented from a phone company. “Bill Duvall,” as Markoff puts it, “would become the first to make the leap from research to replace humans with computers to using computers to augment the human intellect, and one of the first to stand on both sides of an invisible line that even today divides two rival, insular engineering communities.”
For Markoff, the difference between these two fields, A.I. and I.A.3 , is the difference between a future in which human capabilities are enhanced by technology and one in which humans are made effectively obsolete, versioned out by the consequences of our own ingenuity. These two ways of thinking about our relationship with technology, he writes, have remained in a state of unresolved conflict: “One approach supplants humans with an increasingly powerful blend of computer hardware and software. The other extends our reach intellectually, economically, and socially using the same ingredients.”
Markoff's argument, made in various ways using various examples—industrial mass production, robotics, machine learning, and so on—is that we have now reached a point in the development of these technologies where we can no longer avoid bridging this chasm between the A.I. and I.A. philosophies. Not to do so, he argues, would be to risk a future in which humans become effectively obsolete as meaningful actors in our own world.

October 1, 2015

Markoff1 begins with the story of Bill Duvall, a young programmer hired to write code for Shakey2. Duvall became frustrated with the limitations of the robotics project and decamped to another research group, just down the hall at Stanford Research Institute, which was engaged in an entirely different sort of enterprise, called the N.L.S., or “oN-Line System.” This project, led by a computer scientist named Doug Engelbart, was aimed at creating “an interactive system to capture knowledge and organize information in such a way that it would now be possible for a small group of people—scientists, engineers, educators—to create and collaborate more effectively.” The project, in other words, was an early version of the Internet. Not long after walking down the hall and leaving Shakey to its own limited and whirring devices, Duvall used Engelbart's N.L.S. software to connect a computer in Menlo Park to one in Los Angeles via a data line rented from a phone company. “Bill Duvall,” as Markoff puts it, “would become the first to make the leap from research to replace humans with computers to using computers to augment the human intellect, and one of the first to stand on both sides of an invisible line that even today divides two rival, insular engineering communities.”
For Markoff, the difference between these two fields, A.I. and I.A.3 , is the difference between a future in which human capabilities are enhanced by technology and one in which humans are made effectively obsolete, versioned out by the consequences of our own ingenuity. These two ways of thinking about our relationship with technology, he writes, have remained in a state of unresolved conflict: “One approach supplants humans with an increasingly powerful blend of computer hardware and software. The other extends our reach intellectually, economically, and socially using the same ingredients.”
Markoff's argument, made in various ways using various examples—industrial mass production, robotics, machine learning, and so on—is that we have now reached a point in the development of these technologies where we can no longer avoid bridging this chasm between the A.I. and I.A. philosophies. Not to do so, he argues, would be to risk a future in which humans become effectively obsolete as meaningful actors in our own world.

October 1, 2015

Markoff1 begins with the story of Bill Duvall, a young programmer hired to write code for Shakey2. Duvall became frustrated with the limitations of the robotics project and decamped to another research group, just down the hall at Stanford Research Institute, which was engaged in an entirely different sort of enterprise, called the N.L.S., or “oN-Line System.” This project, led by a computer scientist named Doug Engelbart, was aimed at creating “an interactive system to capture knowledge and organize information in such a way that it would now be possible for a small group of people—scientists, engineers, educators—to create and collaborate more effectively.” The project, in other words, was an early version of the Internet. Not long after walking down the hall and leaving Shakey to its own limited and whirring devices, Duvall used Engelbart's N.L.S. software to connect a computer in Menlo Park to one in Los Angeles via a data line rented from a phone company. “Bill Duvall,” as Markoff puts it, “would become the first to make the leap from research to replace humans with computers to using computers to augment the human intellect, and one of the first to stand on both sides of an invisible line that even today divides two rival, insular engineering communities.”
For Markoff, the difference between these two fields, A.I. and I.A.3 , is the difference between a future in which human capabilities are enhanced by technology and one in which humans are made effectively obsolete, versioned out by the consequences of our own ingenuity. These two ways of thinking about our relationship with technology, he writes, have remained in a state of unresolved conflict: “One approach supplants humans with an increasingly powerful blend of computer hardware and software. The other extends our reach intellectually, economically, and socially using the same ingredients.”
Markoff's argument, made in various ways using various examples—industrial mass production, robotics, machine learning, and so on—is that we have now reached a point in the development of these technologies where we can no longer avoid bridging this chasm between the A.I. and I.A. philosophies. Not to do so, he argues, would be to risk a future in which humans become effectively obsolete as meaningful actors in our own world.

October 1, 2015

Markoff1 begins with the story of Bill Duvall, a young programmer hired to write code for Shakey2. Duvall became frustrated with the limitations of the robotics project and decamped to another research group, just down the hall at Stanford Research Institute, which was engaged in an entirely different sort of enterprise, called the N.L.S., or “oN-Line System.” This project, led by a computer scientist named Doug Engelbart, was aimed at creating “an interactive system to capture knowledge and organize information in such a way that it would now be possible for a small group of people—scientists, engineers, educators—to create and collaborate more effectively.” The project, in other words, was an early version of the Internet. Not long after walking down the hall and leaving Shakey to its own limited and whirring devices, Duvall used Engelbart's N.L.S. software to connect a computer in Menlo Park to one in Los Angeles via a data line rented from a phone company. “Bill Duvall,” as Markoff puts it, “would become the first to make the leap from research to replace humans with computers to using computers to augment the human intellect, and one of the first to stand on both sides of an invisible line that even today divides two rival, insular engineering communities.”
For Markoff, the difference between these two fields, A.I. and I.A.3 , is the difference between a future in which human capabilities are enhanced by technology and one in which humans are made effectively obsolete, versioned out by the consequences of our own ingenuity. These two ways of thinking about our relationship with technology, he writes, have remained in a state of unresolved conflict: “One approach supplants humans with an increasingly powerful blend of computer hardware and software. The other extends our reach intellectually, economically, and socially using the same ingredients.”
Markoff's argument, made in various ways using various examples—industrial mass production, robotics, machine learning, and so on—is that we have now reached a point in the development of these technologies where we can no longer avoid bridging this chasm between the A.I. and I.A. philosophies. Not to do so, he argues, would be to risk a future in which humans become effectively obsolete as meaningful actors in our own world.

October 1, 2015

Markoff1 begins with the story of Bill Duvall, a young programmer hired to write code for Shakey2. Duvall became frustrated with the limitations of the robotics project and decamped to another research group, just down the hall at Stanford Research Institute, which was engaged in an entirely different sort of enterprise, called the N.L.S., or “oN-Line System.” This project, led by a computer scientist named Doug Engelbart, was aimed at creating “an interactive system to capture knowledge and organize information in such a way that it would now be possible for a small group of people—scientists, engineers, educators—to create and collaborate more effectively.” The project, in other words, was an early version of the Internet. Not long after walking down the hall and leaving Shakey to its own limited and whirring devices, Duvall used Engelbart's N.L.S. software to connect a computer in Menlo Park to one in Los Angeles via a data line rented from a phone company. “Bill Duvall,” as Markoff puts it, “would become the first to make the leap from research to replace humans with computers to using computers to augment the human intellect, and one of the first to stand on both sides of an invisible line that even today divides two rival, insular engineering communities.”
For Markoff, the difference between these two fields, A.I. and I.A.3 , is the difference between a future in which human capabilities are enhanced by technology and one in which humans are made effectively obsolete, versioned out by the consequences of our own ingenuity. These two ways of thinking about our relationship with technology, he writes, have remained in a state of unresolved conflict: “One approach supplants humans with an increasingly powerful blend of computer hardware and software. The other extends our reach intellectually, economically, and socially using the same ingredients.”
Markoff's argument, made in various ways using various examples—industrial mass production, robotics, machine learning, and so on—is that we have now reached a point in the development of these technologies where we can no longer avoid bridging this chasm between the A.I. and I.A. philosophies. Not to do so, he argues, would be to risk a future in which humans become effectively obsolete as meaningful actors in our own world.