To and fro, the dilemma of tech-that-will-change-the-world as good or bad agent swings. No end of speculation (and boy some fortunes are certainly riding on this) and no lack of commentary. 

Articles are a dime-a-dozen and opinions as frenzied as an 1850’s frontier town’s bar at assay-time. And along comes another claim-staker intent on panning the news stream for something shiny for my readers to reflect on; so in the best pioneering spirit (or rather the usual headless rush towards the promise of untold wealth. Or maybe no job prospects at all if some prognosticators are claiming), onwards.

I was reading a wonderful piece about archeologist’s beginning to write children into the very early history of modern man, as they’ve been conspicuously silent in the narrative. Probably something no parent said, ever.

140,000 years ago a small family (possibly a family) stepped into a cave to leave some art, and likely given the footprints it indicated some very small people tagging along, playing with the technologies of the day. They left small marks and impressions, mimicking the grown-ups with soot and clay.

It was wonderfully evocative. The piece then went on to illustrate situations where younger people were making flint tools with a more experienced person (likely an adult), learning their way with the toolkit for knapping flints. And improving as they learnt. And likely stumbling on slightly better ways to do things to share back.

Since we’ve been making string (arguably to me the first most important technology) and learning to tie ideas together, so we augment what we do, to do more. 

It feels (and, appreciating that when you look back, you see patterns that were never really there, nor could be predicted - the old ideological infection, ‘if one knows in advance what one wants to find, one will likely find it’) inevitable. Unstoppable. A.I. feels like this. Almost tastes, looks, sounds, smells like this.

Maybe, right now, it possibly doesn’t seem quite so much? 

Maybe. But it’s taken to the stage and seems to like the limelight (ha ha. Am already describing it a physical presence!) and as the designer Jurgen Lehl remarked to David Byrne (to the oversized suit worn on the set of 1984’s Stop Making Sense), 'Well David, everything is bigger on stage.' A.I. is going to be everywhere (even more everywhere) and like Byrne’s over-sized clothes, it might not feel like it fits yet. But I’ve a sense we’ll simply grow into it. 

I guess why I’m typing this is I think I’m resigned to A.I. is going to be much of what (how) the future’s going to be shaped. It feels like fighting it (or seeing people fight it) is just a little futile. 

It’s probably time to work with it, or work at it and help shape it better. Stop worrying about it and start making sense of it.