Showing posts with label Chat GPT. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chat GPT. Show all posts

2.3.24

Redefining Literacy in the AI Era: The Shift from Linear to Fragmented Reading

In this blog post, I discuss how literacy is evolving—a concept that has fascinated humanity since the advent of long-distance communication technologies such as the telegraph and telephone. Nowadays, our interaction with information is marked by its agility and rapidity, as demonstrated by AI advancements like ChatGPT from OpenAI.

A newspaper and magazine rack
Print magazines line a newsstand at the airport.
The way we access tools online is altering how we access texts. When Google search was first developed in the late '90s, the shift was from looking up information in print media to finding information online. However, we did not know it then, but search was a static, linear form of reading, not much different from how we generally read – in clusters of words and phrases, placed one after the other. Now, computer programmers have built tools designed to make savvy deductions on matters ranging from "The Best Way to Write a Cover Letter" to "Romanticism in Britain in the late 19th century." Instead of 'finding' what we need, we are 'sourcing' it. It's incredible, really. These generative AI models, including others like Google’s Bard (now, Gemini) and Bing’s Copilot, are built on extensive datasets, which range from Shakespeare's works to modern product labels. However, the opacity surrounding these datasets raises critical questions about transparency and intellectual property.

Consider the hypothetical 'Books three' corpus, comprising 157,000 copyrighted books. The file is purportedly an illegal 'scrape' of proprietary content The use of such a comprehensive dataset in AI training could potentially revolutionize our access to literature. This aligns with my vision of immediate access to any book, a dream that once felt unattainable.

The transformation in literacy is stark when we look back historically. In the past, literature was an auditory experience, where figures like St. Ambrose and Augustine engaged with texts through oral recitation. In this iteration of reading, words were vocal, heard, and disruptive. So, when Augustine saw his teacher Ambrose reading silently one day, it was a surprise to the young priest. That Ambrose could read to himself, without whispering the words, was a revelation. Recalling my time as Brother Bede, when I was a Benedictine monk, I remember being taught that in St. Benedict's 'Rule,' he emphasized the importance of reading out loud, contrasting with our present view of reading as a solitary, silent activity. And I realized that I spend most of my time reading silently, but when I do read out loud, it is a different, qualitative experience. I can feel the difference and can imagine being like Augustine, feeling his surprise when he saw Ambrose read silently – it blew his mind. Another shift in literacy is on its way, and it is just as, or more, mind-blowing than silent reading.

Certainly, it is mandatory to mention that the Gutenberg printing press was a pivotal moment in literacy, enabling widespread distribution of books, thus changing the way information was disseminated. In 2024, the proliferation of printed and digital materials further morphs our interaction with texts like 'Don Quixote', 'Arabian Nights', and contemporary literature. When books were first made affordable to a growing middle class, the modern-day educational system also developed, and while the ability to read and write was a luxury afforded only to the upper classes, the clergy, and those at the top echelon of the governing state, they found themselves not the only folk who benefited from literacy and reading. I cannot imagine myself not being able to read. An older man in my building was asking me about the gas bill, wondering if it had risen for me. I showed him my bill, and he meekly told me, "Oh, that's okay. I believe you." He was Mandarin-speaking, and I knew he knew a little English, but when I showed him a translation explaining that the building was reinstalling some pipes, he immediately told me, "I don't read that type of Chinese." I realized that I had known him for a long time and it was true, I had never seen him read, and he never liked to receive written messages, always preferring one-on-one conversations. I had a moment of realization that he lived in a more limited world than someone who was literate, but he seemed okay, thriving really. He maintained his backyard with pear trees and figs, and in the summer, massive tomatoes grew on a vine along the back red brick of the house. And I definitely do not know how to grow a garden the way he does; it is a loving exercise and I admire it. An eighty-year-old man doing the work, and I feel this strange sense of embarrassment, like I realize I am not as educated as he is, even though I can read fairly well, and if I want to, I can also read in a couple of other languages. My entire life revolves around words and literacy. It is my bread and butter. But still, there is something about the immediacy of the oral word, the spoken, that feels legitimate to me.

Our age is marked by AI-assisted and multimedia reading experiences. I just received a response today from one of my students – a short written response on the theme of curiosity as it develops in a passage from Ovid. But I had him talk about it one-on-one, and the eloquence that was in the written words was lost. And as I listened to him speak, I realized that he had indeed read the text; that was not the problem; he had not understood it. He would have to sit with Ovid a bit more. But is that something we still do? Long, sustained, silent reading, like Ambrose in his study? Even listening to audiobooks – which I actually think of as the purest way to experience literature, the way Homer would have spoken the words of the Odyssey – is popular, and maybe that is a way back to an older iteration of speaking and listening. In a recent poll conducted by the Pew Research Center, 23 percent of Americans say they haven't read a book in whole or in part in the last year. The people who are not reading, according to the data, are high school graduates without a college degree. The poll data showed that "Hispanic adults, older adults, those living in households earning less than $30,000, and those who have a high school diploma or did not graduate from high school were among the most likely to report in that survey they had never been to a public library." But of those who read, literacy is more important than ever – and how we access information is critical for how we see ourselves in the future. Are we going to continue to be a society that still attends to words in the way that a professor of antiquity will learn Latin or Greek in order to read texts written in languages no one speaks or writes in anymore? We no longer solely read a book from start to finish. We consume content in various forms: watching videos, listening to podcasts, or even immersing ourselves in a VR device that places us within a 3D rendering of a play's setting. This multi-modal approach to literacy allows for a more dynamic and interactive engagement with text, challenging the traditional linear narrative.

This revolution in literacy is reshaping educational paradigms. Teachers will navigate a landscape where students have instant access to a vast array of texts and AI tools. Lessons will no longer be confined to structured units but will evolve into expansive, interactive explorations of literature and information.

The shift to this tech-integrated literacy might lead to a disconnection from our sense of humanity, necessitating escapes to technology-free zones for mental health. Resorts in remote locations, offering a respite from digital saturation, would become essential for re-grounding our human experience.

In summary, the way we relate to language and literacy is undergoing a profound transformation. We are moving from traditional, linear reading habits to fragmented, AI-integrated, and multi-modal literacy. This shift challenges us to rethink our approach to reading and its implications for our cognitive and social development.

16.11.23

What Learning to Program in the 1990s Taught Me About How Computers Work and Why Generative Artificial Intelligence Makes Sense to Me

It's circa 1991 — during my middle school years — I attended a small Catholic school where I enrolled in a computer science class. The computers ran on a slow-running operating system called MS-DOS that included a cool feature — a way to code in a basic programming language called QBasic, featuring a simple lime green blinking cursor on the screen. It ran Nibbles, a fun game to boot, but to play more advanced games, we used floppy disks, slightly larger than a postcard but smaller than a standard piece of paper, containing a metallic tape where data was stored.

Illustration of a classroom filled with old Commodore computers running on QBasic
I requested Dalle-3 to create an illustration depicting
my computer science classroom, vividly filled with
Commodore computers operating on QBasic.

The fun aspect of these classes involved playing games on these floppy disks. However, equally engaging was experimenting with QBasic. It's a simple, beginner-friendly programming language developed by Microsoft. It was quite popular in the late 1980s and early 1990s for teaching programming basics in an easy-to-understand way. QBasic is known for its simplicity, making it a good starting point for beginners in programming. We could create command lines and basic math problems. Our teacher introduced us to subroutines, enabling us to develop more complex programs like a quiz show. For instance, I programmed a game where the user would answer questions like "What is the capital of Washington State?". Correct answers led to more challenging questions, while wrong ones could end the game or reduce progress. By the way — the answer is Olympia.

Over time, I developed an advanced quiz bowl game with fifty unique questions embedded in different subroutine categories, enhancing my programming skills. My fascination with QBasic grew, prompting me to research more about it in the public library. I learned to replicate other programs, such as the classic snake game.

For illustrative purposes — here's a snippet of QBasic code.

SUB AskWashingtonCapital
    DIM answer AS STRING
    PRINT "What is the capital of Washington State? The answer is Olympia."
    INPUT answer
    IF LCASE$(answer) = "olympia" THEN
        PRINT "Correct! Now for a more difficult question."
        AskUSTerritory
    ELSE
        PRINT "That's not correct. Let's try an easier question."
        AskUSCapital
    END IF
END SUB
 


Fast forward to 2023, the world of generative AI is an evolution of my early programming experiences. When using a tool like ChatGPT, asking a question like the capital of Washington State, it processes the query using its neural network and provides an answer, similar to the if-then statements in my quiz game. However, the complexity and scale of these large language models (LLMs) are far beyond what we had back then.

These models, like ChatGPT, are based on vast amounts of data fed into them, enabling predictive text generation. Yet, unlike human cognition, these computers don't 'understand' in the same way we do. They process information based on input from human-made sources, creating an artificial neural network.

Looking ahead, these neural networks could eventually update themselves, especially if they gain access to the internet or large databases. This self-improvement capability in computer programs could lead to significant advancements in AI, potentially paving the way to what some refer to as 'the singularity.' The future of this technology is uncertain, but its potential is undoubtedly intriguing.