The Luddites of AI

In his book The Perfectionists: How Precision Engineers Created the Modern World*, Simon Winchester reminds us that technological advancement has not always been well-received.

The employment of mass production of woolen and cotton textiles in the early 19th century displaced many manual workers who were understandably upset by the loss of their livelihoods. An uprising was supposedly led by a “King Ludd” in opposition to automation, and from that uprising we retain the term “luddite".” Which, of course, means a person who resists technological change.

The journalism industry has lately been expressing concern over the impact of artificial intelligence on their business. Social media platforms are being accused of pilfering content from traditional news sources without recompense. (”The Times Sues OpenAI and Microsoft Over A.I. Use of Copyrighted Work”. New York Times, Dec 27. It’s reported that both the number of traditional publications, especially small local newspapers, and the reporters and editors who work for them has substantially decreased in the last few years. And technology is seen as the cause. 

“... having people, not machines, tell the human stories of the city and the world for other humans to read should stay that way.” New York Daily News summarizes in a recent editorial.

Is this truly a threat to good journalism and its effective distribution  - or are we experiencing just another case of luddites fearful of being terminated by The Terminator? 

A major difference between today’s replacement scenario and the days of factory automation is that the work that may be done by AI instead of humans is that it will be intellectual labor, not physical toil. A robotic arm attaching a fender to an auto body does not require insight, empathy, objectivity, or contextual knowledge. A good reporter does. Can AI know and compose basic news stories without boots on the ground, being where the news happens?

Or might AI actually be better? Could a bot attend a school board or city council meeting, record it, and then distill the content? Could a bot analyze and summarize congressional actions, supreme court decisions, or presidential activities? Could a bot be embedded in a police force to report on crime or in a courtroom to describe trials? All in a style that is understandable and lacking bias.

And could AI provide editorial comment that is actually more balanced than the current humans writing these thought pieces now? Were I programming an editorial AI I’d ask it to always write two editorials on a subject, each reflecting separate sides of an issue, giving readers a more balanced view of issues.

I find myself somewhat torn about AI, finding it both potentially promising and perilous. But I don’t want to be classified as a Luddite. For now, AI gets the benefit of the doubt from me. 

Despite my spell checker just wanting to replace “doubt” with ‘donut” in the last sentence

* My grandson recommended this book to me. His senior high school English class teacher assigns books based on each student’s career interests. And Miles is interested in pursuing a career in engineering. The book is much more interesting and readable than the title suggests.

I’ve lost my temper

Just as the film showing in a local planetarium was beginning, a howl came from the back of the auditorium. A small child, it seemed, was frightened by the 3-D effects and wanted to leave. And his cries became a tantrum, distracting the rest of the audience until a parental-unit finally decided to remove him about five minutes into the movie.

It’s not just children who lose their tempers, of course. The stereotype of an old man often includes temper tantrums. “Get off my lawn, you little brats!” sort of thing. My mother who is showing significant signs of dementia now loses her temper often. I can remember my father whacking me for misbehavior as a kid after being hollered at. Honking horns of impatient drivers are common.

My personal temper was probably at its worst as a beginning high school classroom teacher. I lost it with some kid probably four or five times every day. Which was, I’m sure, those kids' goal - to watch an authority figure lose control.

Over the years, my outbursts have decreased. I went from multiple daily tantrums to just a couple a month. And for the last few years, I don’t know that I’ve lost it with anyone or anything - at least that I can remember.

This is not to say I don’t still get angry. Dangerous drivers. Stupid politicians. Idiots in the checkout lane of the grocery store. But this is an internal seething. Well, sometimes I remark on bad drivers aloud. But usually I consciously try to empathize with these fools and reassure myself that getting to my destination a couple minutes later is not the end of the world. Oh, and that I was once a young and reckless driver myself.

I often think about a book I read a few years ago called The Stoic Challenge by William Irvine. At its heart, it suggests that things that trouble us are placed there by the gods to test us. If we get angry, the gods win; if we instead face the obstacles calmly and constructively, we win. I like to win.

Keeping one’s cool is perhaps easier for lucky guys like me. I don’t struggle economically. I have a great family and wonderful friends. All the work I do is volunteer and there are no bad bosses in my life anymore. I use social media only for contact with people I know and do not discuss politics online. Front page troubles are miles away, if not continents away, from my quiet neighborhood in a safe suburb. What exactly is there for me to be angry about? Concerned, yes. Mad, no. 

I’ve lost my temper, but in a good way and am delighted to live an anger-free life. 

Join me.

Where’s the peanut butter?; managing technology system change

Image source

The state of Minnesota’s judicial branch has changed some information systems. The pushback has not been positive. I sympathize with those that manage information systems, especially when needed changes are made to them. But I also sympathize with the end users.

According to the Minneapolis Star Tribune, a number of legal workers are not happy with a change in information access systems here in MN. An editorial (Restore justice partners data access, Dec. 13) took Minnesota's Judicial Branch to task and a Chief Justice of the Minnesota Supreme Court and the state court administrator responded (Online records transition necessary, orderly, December 19, 2023.) by writing:

While these [replacement] programs may not offer the one-stop-shop functionality of Odyssey Assistant, they absolutely provide our partners with the information they need to do their jobs, maintain public safety and ensure access to justice. To suggest otherwise is simply inaccurate.

The judicial branch recognizes that some of our justice partners have struggled to adjust to these newer, less familiar electronic tools.

Many others have been successfully using these new tools for quite some time now.

As a technology director for two public school systems over a 28 year span, I had the responsibility for overseeing quite a number of technology changes. Student information systems, special education systems, financial systems, email systems, and, of course, personal computer operating systems each changed multiple times over the years. And each change brought a degree of distress to the end users despite trainings, reasonings, and careful planning.

One especially difficult transition was from the TIES Student Information System to a commercial system around 2017. TIES was a consortium of primarily metro area schools that, among other things, created and maintained a highly customizable information system for its members. It was great since it was made to support the export of data required by the state, of course, but If a school district decided it wanted a button to be red instead of blue, TIES could make that happen. It was a long used and familiar set of programs.

But when TIES dissolved and schools were forced to adopt a new system, the users found it distressing that the national company didn’t really care if they wanted the buttons to be blue or red. And of course, buttons, tabs, and menus were all in new places in the new system.  A task that may have taken one click, now might have required three clicks! That this system was used in over a dozen buildings by teachers, administrators, secretaries, as well as district office personnel, somewhat complicated matters. And the data it managed - attendance, grades, schedules, contact information - were critical.

During each change process, I always tried to remember the old innovation adoption theory: with any new technology there would be innovators, early adopters, late adopters, and laggards. The theory certainly seemed to hold true among school personnel. I remember getting the stink eye from some staff months after a system change.

An Apple representative once shared an analogy regarding technology change. He submitted that changing a computer system was like moving to a new house. Just after moving, you become frustrated because you can’t find the light switches, you forget which cupboard holds the peanut butter, and you don’t remember if you turn left or right in the bedroom hallway to get to the bathroom. It takes some time before you become familiar with the new place. Until then, it is hard to remember why you moved in the first place - more space, nicer location, better layout. Likewise, adjusting to a new computer system takes some time.

So to both the administrators and the users of the judicial system databases,  remember that the transition, while painful, will be temporary. You will eventually learn where you put the peanut butter.