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The rise of the racist robots

Advances in artifical intelligence are at risk of being held back by human ignorance. 

As far as dystopian visions of the future go, you can’t get much worse than the words “Nazi robots”. But while films, TV and games might conjure up visions of ten-foot titanium automatons with swastikas for eyes, the real racist robots – much like their human counterparts – are often much more subtle.

Last night, Stephen Hawking warned us all about artificial intelligence. Speaking at the opening of the Leverhulme Centre for the Future of Intelligence (LCFI) at Cambridge University, Hawking labelled AI “either the best, or the worst thing, ever to happen to humanity.” It’s an intelligent warning – many experts are already worried that AI will destroy the world of work – but it homogenises humans. What is the “best thing” for some may be the “worst thing” for others, and nowhere is this clearer than the issue of race.

It started with the Nikon Coolpix S630. In 2009, Joz Wang, a Taiwanese-American, bought the camera for her mother, and was shocked when a message on the screen asked “Did someone blink?” after she took a picture of herself. In July 2015, Google Photos came under fire after its image recognition software tagged Jacky Alciné and his friend, both of whom are black, as “Gorillas”. In September of the same year, a video showing an automatic soap dispenser refusing to respond to a black hand went viral. You might dismiss these examples as harmless bugs or honest mistakes, but they still tell us a lot about the way the technology industry tests its products – and therefore, which customers it values.

But then it got worse. This year alone, the first beauty contest judged by AI had only one dark-skinned winner out of 44, Princeton academics discovered that a popular language-processing algorithm found “black” names unpleasant, and an American software used to predict future criminals rated black people as higher risk. And who can forget Microsoft’s ill-fated chatbot Tay? The bot – which was taught to converse by mimicking other Twitter users’ speech – was taken offline after 16 hours because it began spurting sexist and racist messages.

We could sit here and debate whether an AI can truly be considered racist, but it wouldn’t change the outcome of events. Even though these algorithms and machines aren’t explicitly programmed to be racist – and their designers usually aren’t prejudiced themselves – it doesn’t change the consequences of their use. The more and more dominant AI becomes in our world, the more problematic this will become. Imagine the consequences of racial bias in AI job-screening tools, dating sites, mortgage advisers, insurance companies, and so on.

“Bias in AI systems is a vital issue,” says Calum Chace, the best-selling author of Surviving AI and a speaker on how the technology will affect our future. “We humans are deplorably biased – even the best of us. AIs can do better, and we need them to, but we have to ensure their inputs are unbiased.”

To do this, Chace explains, we need to figure out the root of the “racism”. Pretty much no one is deliberately designing their AI to be racist – Google’s chief social architect, Yonatan Zunger, responded quickly to the “Gorillas” incident, Tweeting “This is 100% Not OK.” But the fact that only two per cent of Google employees are black is perceived as part of the problem, as in many of these instances the technology was designed with white people in mind. “The chief technology officer of the company that ran the beauty contest explained that its database had a lot more white people than Indian people and that it was ‘possible’ that because of that their algorithm was biased,” says Chace.

There are also technical solutions. Chace explains that machine learning systems work best when they are fed huge quantities of data. “It is likely that the system was trained on too few images – a mere 6,000, compared with the many millions of images used in more successful machine learning systems. As a senior Googler said, machine learning becomes ‘unreasonably effective’ when trained on huge quantities of data. Six thousand images are probably just not enough.”

Now more than ever, it is important to straighten out these issues before AI becomes even more powerful and prevalent in our world. It is one thing for intelligent machines to drive our cars and provide our insurance quotes, and another thing for them to decide who lives and dies when it comes to war. “Lethal autonomous weapons systems (LAWS) will increasingly be deployed in war, and in other forms of conflict," says Chase. "This will happen whether we like it or not, because machines can make decisions better and faster than humans.  A drone which has to continually “phone home” before engaging its opponent will quickly be destroyed by a fully autonomous rival.  If we get it right, these deadly machines will reduce the collateral damage imposed by conflict. But there is plenty of work to be done before we get to that enviable position.”

Whether or not this vision of the future comes to fruition in 10, 20, or 100 years, it is important to prepare for it – and other possibilities. Despite constant advances in technology, there is still no such thing as a "concious" robot that thinks and feels as humans do. In itself an AI cannot be racist. To solve this problem, then, it is humans that need fixing. 

Amelia Tait is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman.

Jake Paul via YouTube
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We should overcome our instinct to mock Jake Paul’s school shooting video

The urge to mock the ex-Disney star diminishes the victims he speaks to and ignores the good YouTubers can do.  

It’s very “darkest timeline”. Ex-Disney star Jake Paul (brother of vlogger Logan Paul, who infamously filmed the dead body of a suicide victim) has created a 22-minute documentary about the Parkland school shooting in which he greets Florida senator Marco Rubio with the words “Hey, what’s up man?” and doesn’t mention gun control once. 

Paul – who has previously made headlines for setting fire to a swimming pool – goes on to ask the politician: “I think like a lot of people think passing laws is super easy, can you explain some of the struggles around, uh, passing laws?”

It’s hard to not immediately balk at the documentary, which was released yesterday and has since been widely mocked by the press and individual journalists. Critics note that Paul doesn’t mention gun reform within the YouTube video, and many mock his conduct towards Rubio. Others accuse the video of being an insincere PR move, particularly as Paul has previously fetishised guns on his YouTube channel – and has a tattoo of a gun on his thigh.

21-year-old Jake Paul talks and conducts himself like a child, which is what makes the video immediately jarring (“I just wanna become homies with them and just be there for them,” he says of the Parkland survivors he is about to meet). There is a vacant – almost dumb – expression on his face when he speaks with Rubio, leading the viewer to question just how much the YouTube star understands. But this is precisely the value of the video. Paul is a child talking to an audience of children – and talking to them on their terms.

YouTube doesn’t disclose the exact demographics of a YouTuber’s audience, but fan videos and Paul’s comment section reveal that most of his 14 million subscribers are young children and teens. Paul is introducing these children to a politician, and the video is edited so that Rubio’s claims don’t go unchecked – with footage of the senator being criticised by Parkland survivors playing in between shots of Paul and Rubio’s chat.

Paul (admittedly unintentionally) asks the senator questions a child might ask, such as “Is there anything that people can look forward to? Is there anything new that you’re working on?”. Although this might be jarring for adults to watch, the comment section of Paul’s video reveals it is already positively affecting his young audience.

“Definitely going to speak out now,” writes one. Another: “I shared this to my Mum and asked her to show the head teacher so everyone do that as well.” Childishness is still transparently at play – one commenter writes “Plzzz Stop the Guns… it hurts my feeling I’m crying… 1 like = 10 Pray to Florida” – but this too shows that Paul has introduced new concepts to kids previously more concerned with online pranks and viral fame.

Of course, it’s easy to see how this might be a cynical move on Paul’s part. Yet how can we demand more from YouTubers and then criticise them when they deliver it? Paul’s video is far from perfect, but engaging children in genuine discussions about current affairs is a commendable move, one far superior to his prior acts. (Paul previously caused controversy by telling a fan from Kazakhstan that he “sounds like you’re just going to blow someone up”, and his diss-track “It’s Everyday Bro” is third most disliked video on YouTube). Like it or not, Paul has an incredible influence over young people – at least he is finally using it for good.

Paul’s video has also undeniably helped at least one teen. “It’s just easier to talk about what’s going on with someone like you than a doctor or someone,” Jonathan Blank – a Parkland survivor – tells the YouTuber in the video. Later, his mother praises Paul through her tears. “It was the best therapy for my son,” she says, “You didn’t have an agenda, you cared.”

Other Parkland survivors are angry at the media’s response to the video. Kyle Kashuv – also interviewed in the documentary – has tweeted multiple times since the video’s release. “Media has the utter audacity to mock my classmates and Senator Rubio for doing the interview ON MY REQUEST AND THE REQUEST OF TWO OTHER STUDENTS,” he wrote.  

“If you mock a video where my classmates, that witnessed their friends get murdered in cold blood, are crying and putting their hearts on their sleeve, be prepared to be hit back twice as hard.”

Kashuv differs from the most famous group of Parkland survivors, as the teen supports the STOP School Violence Act over national gun reform. Yet the teen’s politics do not make his thoughts or feelings less valid, or his voice less important in the conversation. While critics note Paul spoke little of gun reform in his video (instead he suggested that schools have bullet proof glass and Instagram should flag pro-gun posts), the YouTuber later tweeted to clarify his stance.

“Gun Reform changes we need in my opinion,” he wrote. Paul went on to suggest that anyone who wants to buy a gun should be 21, go through a six month training course, and have a mental health evaluation. He also tweeted that gun shows should be banned and there should be a “30 day wait period after purchase to receive firearm”.

This isn’t to say, of course, that Paul is right, or has all the answers, or is even equipped to discuss this topic sensitively. Yet his promise to pay for busses to the March for Our Lives demonstration in Washington DC, alongside the fact he didn’t monetise his YouTube documentary, speak of someone at least trying to do some good. “We all want the same thing and that’s to make schools safe,” he says in the video. Although he gives Rubio and the STOP School Violence Act a platform, he is dismissive of their impact.

“Kind of why I wanted to make this video in the first place is to activate parents and kids within their own schools and communities, that’s the way things are going to get done the fastest. We don’t to wait for hundreds of people in Washington DC to pass the laws,” he says.

Though the description to Paul’s video was most likely written by a far-more savvy PR, it’s hard to disagree with. “I vow to be part of the solution and utilise my platform to raise awareness and action across the board, but we cannot focus on one issue, we must actively discuss and make progress on them all,” it reads.

The criticism of Paul smacks of the old media sneering at the new media, galled and appalled that a 21-year-old YouTuber would dare wade into politics and do so less than perfectly. Concerns about propriety and morality are a veil to disguise a pervasive distaste for YouTube stars. Criticisms that his suggested solutions are stupid ignore the fact that it’s not his job to reform society. It’s like having a go at Sesame Street for not criticising Theresa May.

YouTubers might not be the idols that adults wish teenagers had, but we can’t change that. What we can do is encourage viral stars to engage with important issues, and not mock them when they do so less than brilliantly. Jake Paul may not be a good person – it might even be a stretch to describe the video as “good”. But the YouTuber made an effort that should be commended, not mocked. 

Amelia Tait is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman.