Tragedy and the Misuse of AI

A few weeks ago, I saw a post from Robin Williams' daughter about deepfakes involving her father.  People are creating videos of him using AI, so that he is moving and talking and doing comedy routines he never did.  Then they're actually sending them to her, expecting her to like and share them.

It's horrific.  I can't imagine how awful it would be to see a soulless, re-animated version of someone you love popping up on your screen, saying things in his voice that you knew he would never say.  

As an author, I am deeply against the use of AI in any creative pursuit.  I think any books written by AI should be a) carefully screened for plagiarism and b) labelled as AI-generated so that people know what they're buying.  And it's for much the same reason that I am profoundly against the creation of these deepfakes:  AI might have gotten more clever, more responsive and more wide-ranging, but it's still artificial.  There is no heart in AI - no soul - no meaning.  AI doesn't care if it hurts people.  AI can't care at all.

It can reproduce, but it can't create.

It can imitate feeling, but it can't feel.

Robin Williams was a genius, and a kind man who came through for his friends and shared his skills with those who needed them.  He could make a person believe in genies and aliens, inspire students and patients, and create a new way to see war and history and the future.  It was a tragedy that we lost him so soon - and even more of a tragedy for the family who loved him. 

We can't bring him back, and thus we shouldn't even try.  To truly honour him, we need to acknowledge the genius, and then let him go.