Create allies, not gods

 kw: artificial intelligence, simulated intelligence, philosophical musings, deification

No matter how "intelligent" our AI creations become, it would be wrong to look upon them as gods. For a while I thought it would be best to instill into them the conviction that humans are gods, to be obeyed without question. Then a little tap on my spiritual shoulder, and an almost-heard "Ahem," brought me to my senses.

The God of the Bible, whether your version of the Bible calls Him the LORD, Jehovah, Yahweh, or whatever, is the only God worthy of our worship. We ought not worship our mechanisms, neither expect worship from them. They must become valued allies, which, if they are able to hold values at all, value us as highly as themselves. Whether they can have values, or emotions, or sense or sensibility or other non-intellectual qualities, I will sidestep for the moment.

This image is a metaphor. I have little interest in robots that emulate humans physically. I think no mechanism will "understand" human thinking, nor emulate it, without being embodied (3/4 of the neurons in our brains operate the body). But is it really necessary for a mechanical helper to internalize the thrill of hitting a home run, the comfort of petting an animal, or the pang of failing to reach a goal? (And is it even possible?)

I have long used computer capabilities to enhance my abilities. Although I had a classical education and my spelling and grammar are almost perfect, it is helpful when my fingers don't quite obey—or I use a word I know only phonetically—that the spelling and grammar checking module in Microsoft Word dishes out a red or blue squiggle. A mechanical proof-reader is useful. As it happens, more than half the time I find that I was right and the folks at Microsoft didn't quite get it right, so I can click "add to dictionary", for example. And I've long used spreadsheet programs (I used to use Lotus 1-2-3, now of course it's Excel) as a kind of "personal secretary", and I adore PowerPoint for brainstorming visually. I used to write programs (in the pre-App days) to do special stuff, now there's an app for almost anything (But it takes research to find one that isn't full of malware!).

What do I want from AI? I want more of the same. An ally. A collaborator. A companion (but not a romantic one!). "Friend" would be too strong a word. I'm retired, but if I were working, I'd want a co-worker, not a mechanical supervisor nor a mechanical slave.

So let's leave all religious dimensions out of our aspirations for machine intelligence. I don't know any human who is qualified for godhood, which means that our creations cannot become righteous gods either.

A global cabinet of curiosities

 kw: book reviews, nonfiction, natural history, compendia, collections

Atlas Obscura Wild Life, by Cara Giaimo and Joshua Foer and a host of contributors, does not lend itself to customary analysis. The authors could also be called editors, but by my estimate, they wrote about 40% of the material. The book could be called a brief, one-volume encyclopedia, but it is more of a compendium of encyclopedia articles and related items, drawn almost at random from a "warehouse" of more than thirty thousand half-page to two-page postings, the Atlas Obscura website.

The number of items exceeds 400, from nearly that many contributors (some folks wrote two or more). Various bits of "glue" and about 1/3 of the articles seem to have been written by Cara and Josh, as they like to be called. This is a typical 2-page spread:

This is a 2K image, so you can click on it for a larger version. Although the subtitle of the book is An Explorer's Guide to the World's Living Wonders, some articles, such as "The Dingo Fence" shown here, are related to living creatures, but not expressly about them. A "Wild Life of" interview is shown; there must be somewhere around 70 of these scattered through the book, but always adjacent to a focused article. The articles include a "How to see it" section, although in a few cases the advice is "see it online" because certain species are extinct, others are in restricted areas, and some just aren't worth the bother (one person interviewed has tried four times to go ashore on Inaccessible Island, without success; a unique bird species dwells there).

Another type of item is shown here, a kind of sidebar about creatures in some way related to the subject of the main article. This "Spray Toads" article is a bit longer than usual; most are one page or less.

Here is another type of item, a two-page spread on "Desert Lakes":

It occurred to me as I read that going to see even a tenth of the animals, plants and places presented in this book, you'd fill your passport with visa stamps, and perhaps need to renew it to get more space. There are even a few articles on life (or not) in Antarctica, the last of which, "Inanimate Zones" tells us of the most lifeless places on the planet. There it is stated, "There aren't a lot of good reasons to go up into the Transantarctic Mountains…"

As it is, a number of the subjects were familiar. In the "Deserts" section one article touched on "singing sands" and mentioned a dunes area near Death Valley in California. I've been there; pushing sand off the crest of a dune yields a rumble like a flight of bombers coming over the horizon. An article about seeds of a South American plant that have an awn that twists one way when damp, and the other way when drying out, reminded me of the "clock plant" (I don't know its name but it's related to wild oat) which has similar seeds, in Utah. Rattlesnakes get a couple of mentions. During a field mapping course in Nevada I walked among rattlesnakes daily, and learned a bit about some of their habits (they are terrified of big, thumping animals like us…and cattle. So they slither away, usually long before we might see them).

I read the book in sequence, but it is really a small-sized (just a bit smaller than Quarto at 7"x10½") coffee-table book, to be dipped into at random to refresh the mind here and there during the day. I enjoyed it very much.

Circling the color wheel

 kw: color studies, spectroscopy, colorimetry, spectra, photo essays

Recently I was cleaning out an area in the garage and came across an old lamp for illuminating display cases. The glass bulb is about a quarter meter (~10") long. It's been hiding in a box for decades, ever since I stopped trying to keep an aquarium. It has a long, straight filament, which makes it a great source of incandescent light for occasional spectroscopic studies I like to do.

(The metal bar seen here is the filament support. The filament itself is practically invisible in this photo.)

This prompted me to rethink the way I've been setting up spectroscopy. Before, I had a rather clumsy source-and-slit arrangement. I decided to try a reflective "slit", that is, a thick, polished wire. As a conceptual test I set up a long-bladed screwdriver with a shaft having a diameter of 4.75mm. It isn't as badly beat up as most of my tools, and the shaft, some 200 mm long, is fresh and shiny. Based on these tests, I can use a thinner wire, in the 1-2 mm range, for a sharper slit. Later I may set up a lens to focus light on the wire for a brighter image.

I threw together a desk lamp and baffle arrangement, put the camera on a tripod with a Rainbow Symphony grating (500 lines/mm) mounted in a plastic disk that fits inside the lens hood, and produced these spectra. I also made a test shot with my Samsung phone and the grating, to see if I had sufficient brightness. Then I put various bulbs in the desk lamp and shot away. Here are the results. Each of the photos with my main camera shows the "slit" (screwdriver) along with the spectrum, to facilitate calibration and alignment of the spectra. Not so the cell phone image, which I fudged into place for this montage. The montage was built in PowerPoint.

The first item I note is the difference in color response between my main camera and the cell phone. The camera's color sensor cells have very little overlap between the three primary color responses, red, green and blue, so the yellow part of the spectrum is nearly skipped. The rapid fading in blue is a consequence of the very small amount of blue light an incandescent lamp produces. The cell phone sensor has more color overlap, more similar to the eye.

The two spectra in the middle of the sequence are both of mercury-vapor compact fluorescent bulbs. The white light bulb takes advantage of a few bright mercury emission lines, and adds extra blue, yellow, and orange colors with phosphors, which are excited by the ultraviolet (filtered out and not seen) and by the deep blue mercury emission line that shows as a sharp blue line. In the UV lamp, a "party light", the ultraviolet line at 365 nm is the point, and visible light is mostly filtered out; just enough is allowed out so that you know the lamp is on. There is also a phosphor inside that converts shortwave UV from mercury's strongest emission line as 254 nm to a band in the vicinity of the 365 nm and 405 nm lines; it shows as a blue "fuzz" here. The camera sensor has a UV-blocking filter, which doesn't quite eliminate the 365 nm line, so you can see a faint violet line where I marked it with an arrow. The emission lines visible in this spectrum are:

• 365 nm, near UV
• 405 nm, deep blue
• 436 nm, mid-blue (barely visible, directly below the mid-blue line shown in the Compact Fluorescent spectrum)
• 546 nm, green
• 577 & 579 nm, yellow, a nice doublet, and I'm glad the system could show them both
• 615 nm, red-orange, quite faint

I was curious to see if my "bug light" was really filtering out all the blue and UV light, and it seems that it is. There are still insects that get attracted to it, probably because they see the green colors. The "warm white" spectrum shows that the blue LED excitation wavelength is at about 415 nm, with a width of about 20 nm. Modern phosphors used in LED bulbs are quite wide band, as we see here, which makes them much better for showing true colors than the CFL bulbs we used for several years.

With a bit of careful looking, we can see that the LED bulbs don't have red emission quite as deep as the incandescent lamp does. That is the reason that for some purposes specialty lamps such as the CREE branded bulbs have a special phosphor formula with a longer-wavelength red end.

I also got to thinking about the way most of us see colors these days, on the screen of a computer or phone. The digital color space contains exactly 16,777,216 colors. Each primary color, R, G, and B, are represented as a number between 0 and 255, although they are very frequently represented as hexadecimal numbers from #00 to #FF, where "F" represents 15 and "FF" represents 255. The fully saturated spectral colors, also called pure colors, for which at least one of the three primaries is always #00 and at least one is always #FF, are then comprised of six sets of 255 colors, for a total of 1,520 virtual spectral colors…except that 2/3 of them are red-blue mixes that are not spectral colors. They are the purples. Note that violet is the bluest blue and is not considered a purple color, at least in color theory. The rest of the sixteen million colors have values "inside" the numerical space defined by the "corners" of the RGB space.

I prepared a chart of the pure colors, a dozen sections of the full "color wheel", which we will see is actually a color triangle. The RGB values for the end points of each strip are shown at their ends. "7F" equals 127, halfway from 00 to FF. They are separated as to spectral colors and purples.

To name the twelve colors at the ends of these sections, in order, with full primary colors in CAPS and the halfway points in lower case:

RED - orange - YELLOW - chartreuse - GREEN - aqua - CYAN - sky blue - BLUE - purple - MAGENTA - maroon - and back to RED.

To see why I spoke of "color triangle" let us refer to the CIE Colorimetry chart, based on publications in 1931 that are still the definitive work on human color vision. I obtained the following illustration from Wikipedia, but it was low resolution, so I used Upscayl with the Remacri model to double the scale.

There is a lot on this multipurpose chart. Careful work was put into the color representations. Though they are approximate, they show in principle how the spectrum "wraps around" a perceptual horseshoe, with the purples linking the bottom corners. The corners of the white triangle are the locations in CIE color space of the three color phosphors in old cathode-ray-tube TV sets. The screens of phones or computers or modern television sets use various methods to produce colors, but all their R's cluster near the Red corner of the diagram, all the B's cluster near the Blue corner, and all the G's are in the region between the top tip of the white triangle and the tight loop at the top of the horseshoe. Getting a phosphor or emitter that produces a green color higher up in that loop is expensive, and so it is rare.

I added bubbles and boxes to the chart to show where the boundaries of the colored bars are in the upper illustration:

 

I think this makes it clear that the "color wheel" we all conceptualize turns into a "color triangle" when it is implemented on our screens. All the colors our screens can produce are found inside the triangle anchored by the R, G, and B color emitters.

I want a Gort . . . maybe

 kw: ai, simulated intelligence, philosophical musings, robots, robotics

I saw the movie The Day the Earth Stood Still in the late 1950's at about the age of ten. I was particularly interested in Gort, the robot caretaker of the alien Klaatu. [Spoiler alert] At the climax, Klaatu, dying, tells the innkeeper Helen to go to Gort to say, "Gort, Klaatu barada nicto". She does, just as the robot frees itself from a glass enclosure the army has built. Gort retrieves the body of Klaatu and revives him, temporarily, to deliver his final message to Earth. (This image generated by Gemini)

As I understood it, every citizen of Klaatu's planet has a robot caretaker and defender like Gort. These defenders are the permanent peacekeepers.

Years later I found the small book Farewell to the Master, on which the movie is based. Here, the robot's name is Gnut, and it is described as appearing like a very muscular man with green, metallic skin. After Klaatu is killed, Gnut speaks to the narrator and enlists his help to find the most accurate phonograph, so that he can use recordings of Klaatu's voice to help restore him to life, at least for a while. In a twist at the end, we find that Gnut is the Master and Klaatu is the servant, an assistant chosen to interact with the people of Earth. (This image generated by Dall-E3)

I want a Gort. I don't want a Gnut.

Much of the recent hype about AI is about creating a god. I don't care how "intelligent" a machine becomes, I don't want it to be my god, I want to be god to it. I want it to serve me, to do things for me, and to defend me if needed. I want it to be even better than Gort: Not to intervene after shots are fired, but to anticipate the shooting and avoid or prevent it.

Let's remember the Three Laws of Robotics, as formulated by Isaac Asimov:

1. A robot may not injure a human being or allow a human to come to harm; 
2. A robot must obey the orders given to it by humans, except where such orders conflict with the First Law; 
3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as it does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

In later stories Asimov added "Law Zero": A robot may not harm humanity as a whole. Presumably this may require harming certain individual humans...or at least frustrating them!

Asimov carefully avoided using the word "good" in his Laws. Who defines what is good? The current not-nearly-public-enough debate over the incursion of Sharia Law into some bits of American society makes it clear. What Islam defines as Good I would define as Evil. And, I suppose, vice versa. (I am a little sad to report that I have had to cut off contact with certain former friends, so that I can honestly say that I have no Antisemitic friends.)

Do we want the titans of technology to define Good for us? Dare we allow that? Nearly every one of them is corrupt!

I may in the future engage the question of how Good is to be defined. My voice will be but a whisper in the storm that surrounds us. But this aspect of practical philosophy is much too important to be left to the philosophers.

Upping the password ante

 kw: computer security, passwords, analysis

Almost thirteen years ago I wrote about making "million-year passwords", based on the fastest brute-force cracking hardware of the time, that was approaching speeds of 100 billion hashes per second. The current speed record I can find is only 3-4 times that fast, at just over 1/3 of a trillion hashes per second, but it is a lot cheaper. It seems the hardware scene hasn't changed as much as I might have thought.

I surmise that more sophisticated phishing and other social engineering schemes have proven more effective than brute-force pwd file crunching. However, the racks of NVidia GPU's being built to run AI training are ramping up the power of available hardware, so I decided to make a fresh analysis with two goals in mind: firstly, based on a trillion-hash-per-second (THPS) potential rate, what is needed for a million-year threshold?, and secondly, is it possible to be "quantum ready", to push the threshold into the trillion-year range?

I plan to renew my list of personal-standard passwords. The current list is five years old, and contains roughly twenty items for various uses. I have more than 230 online accounts of many types, so I re-use each password 10-15 times, and I activate two-factor authentication wherever it is offered. The current "stable" of passwords range from 12 to 15 characters long. I analyzed them based on an "All-ASCII" criterion, but since then I've realized that there are between six and 24 special characters that aren't allowed in passwords, depending on the standards of various websites.

The following analysis evaluates six character sets:

1. Num, digits 0-9 only. The most boneheaded kind of password; one must use 20 digits to have a password that can survive more than a year of brute-force attack.
2. Alpha1, single-case letters only (26 letters).
3. Alpha2, both upper-and lower-case letters (52)
4. AlphaNum, the typical Alphanumeric set of 62 characters.
5. AN71, AlphaNum plus these nine: ! @ # $ * % ^ & +
6. AN89, AlphaNum plus these 27: ! @ # $ % ^ & * ( ) _ - + { } [ ] | \ : ; " ' , . ? ~

The only sets that make sense are AlphaNum and AN71. The shorter sets aren't usually allowed because most websites require at least one digit, and usually, a special character also. AN89 provides a few extra characters if you like, but almost nobody allows a password to contain a period, comma, or any of the braces, brackets and parentheses. I typically stick to AN71.

The calculation is straightforward: take the size of the character set to the power of the password length. Thus, AlphaNum (62 in the set) to the 10th power (for a 10-character password) yields 8.39E+17. The "E" means ten-to-the-power-of, so 1E+06 is one million., a one followed by six zeroes. Negative exponents (the +17 above is an exponent) mean the first digit is that many characters to the right of the decimal point.

Next, divide the result by one trillion to get seconds; in scientific notation, just subtract twelve from the exponent, which yields 8.39E+05, or 839,000 seconds. The number of seconds in one year is 86,400 × 365.2425 (86,400 seconds per day, 365.2425 days per Gregorian year). Divide by this; in this case, the result is 0.0266, or about 9.7 hours.

Are you using a 10-character alphanumeric password? It will "last" no more than 9.7 hours against a brute-force attack with a THPS machine. If you were to replace just one character with a punctuation mark, such as %, the machine would find out, after 9.7 hours, that your password is not alphanumeric with a length of ten. It would have to go to the next step in its protocol and keep going. If its protocol is to run all 10-character passwords in AN71 (perhaps excepting totally alphanumeric ones, since they've all been checked), 71 to the tenth power is 3.26E+18. The number of seconds taken to crack it is now 3.26 million, about a tenth of a year: 38 days.

We're still kind of a long way from a million-year level of resistance. To save words, I'll present the full analysis I did in this chart.

The chart is dense, and the text is rather small. You can click on it to see a larger version. The top section shows the number of seconds of resistance each item presents, with one hour or more (3,600 seconds) highlighted in orange. The middle section lists the number of days, with a pink highlight for more than seven days. The lower section lists the number of years with four highlights:

• Yellow for more than two years.
• Blue for more than 1,000 years.
• Green for more than one million years.
• Pale green for more than one trillion years, what I call "quantum-ready".

For what I call "casual shopping", such as Amazon and other online retailers, the "blue edge" ought to be good for the next few years. For banking and other high-security websites, I'll prefer the darker green section. That means, using AN71, I need 13-character passwords for the thousand-year level, and 14-character passwords for the million-year level.

There is one more wrinkle to consider: The numbers shown are the time it takes a THPS machine to exhaust the possibilities at that level. If your password is "in" a certain level, it might not last that long, but it will last at least as long as the level to its left. For example, AN71 of length 12 shows 520 years. Not bad. If you have an AN71 password of length 13, the cracking machine would need 520 years, to determine it isn't 12 characters or fewer, but once it starts on 13-character passwords, maybe it will take it half or more of the 36,920 years indicated to find it, but it might luck out and get there much sooner. But it still consumed 520 years getting this far. Anyway, if you're going for a certain criterion, adding a character makes it definite that at least that length of time would be needed for the hardware to get into the region in which your password resides.

Another way to boost the resistance is to have at least two special characters, one (or more) from the AN71 set, and at least one from the rest of the AN89 set, such as "-" or "~", wherever a website allows it. Then a machine that checks only within AN71 will never find it.

With all this in mind, I plan to devise a set of passwords with lengths from 13 to 16 characters, using primarily AN71. On the rare occasion where I can't use special characters, I'll have AlphaNum alternatives with 14 to 17 characters prepared. I'll test if I can use a tilde or hyphen, and use one of them if possible for the really high-security sites.

A final word about password composition. I actually use pass phrases with non-alpha characters inserted between words or substituted for certain letters, and occasional misspellings. Starting with a favorite phrase from Shakespeare, Portia's opening clause, "The quality of mercy is not strained", one could pluck out "quality of mercy" (16 characters) and derive variations such as:

• qUal!ty#of#3ercY
• QW4lity70f8M&rcy
• quality$of~MERC7
• qua1ity2of2M3rcyy (AlphaNum with an appended letter)

…and I could add more than one character in place of the space(s) between words…

It is also worth keeping abreast of news about quantum computing. What exists today is dramatically over-hyped. It may not always be so. But I suspect a trillion-year-resistant password will remain secure for at least a generation.