RECENTLY I came across this in a book of Kurt Vonnegut’s short stories:
“Hell, it’s about time somebody told about my friend EPICAC. After all, he cost the taxpayers $776,434,927.54 … I won’t go into details about how EPICAC worked (reasoned) except to say that you would feed numbers into him with a keyboard that looked something like a typewriter. It took EPICAC a split second to solve a problem fifty Einsteins couldn’t solve in a lifetime., And EPICAC can never forget any piece of information that was given to him.
"Clickety, click, out came some ribbons and there you were …”
The story was written in 1950. And here we suddenly are.
It was just over a year ago that Ed Thexton asked me if I’d tried chat something. I had no idea what he was talking about but I often feel that way with Ed. His favourite book is Aesthetic Treatments of Concrete Lined Drains.
On January 18, 2023, he emailed me to say a concrete footpath was being installed in his street. He was concerned construction would affect the mature eucalypt in front of his place, so he’d asked ChatGPT about it.
He forwarded me the response: Yes the path would harm the tree (it explained why in precise scientific terms) but here were seven measures to minimise the impact. All sound except Point 6: “you may want to consider installing a permeable surface over the concrete footpath, such as a layer of crushed gravel or permeable pavers, to allow water and oxygen to reach the roots.”
So it wasn’t yet perfect on the principles of permeability but it was close. Now, the only kink in the Toorak Road footpath indicates where Ed convinced the contractor to go around rather than through the tree, thanks to ChatGPT.
At the time I earned my living by freelancing for an article writing company. It wasn’t high faluting stuff. Here’s a sample:
- Do You Need an All Weather Shelter in Your Sheep Yards?
- Life after Death by Powerpoint
- Navigating Heritage Site Development Applications
- How to Build a Chicken Coop
- Why You Should Invest in Adelaide
- What is a Bump test and why is it important?
- Why Thermal Heat Energy is Hotting Up
- Planning for Timely Delivery of Data Centres in Singapore
Riveting, right? But it helped to pay the bills.
Within a month of ChatGPT's launch, my work was gone. I remember the last job I did for the company. The brief: how to build a retaining wall. I watched a few YouTube videos and winged it, aiming for a chatty style for the not-too-bright home handyperson. It took me two or three hours.
Then, out of interest, I submitted the brief to Chat GPT. The response was instantaneous. Reader, I’m ashamed to admit it was no worse than mine. I couldn’t even object on moral grounds since it was simply scanning the internet faster than I could.
The effect of ChatGPT and co was instantaneous. The world changed overnight.
Chapter 3
A week before Christmas 2023, Magdalena Tymczyszyn, of PicRights Australia, wrote to tell me the Bass Coast Post had used four of her client’s images without authorisation. I had 14 days to pay $1500 or they would refer me to their legal team. The images were thumbnails I’d used with stories over a decade ago. The breaches could only have been found by AI trawling of the internet.
I pleaded ignorance and poverty and, since it was two days before Christmas, wished Magdalena a happy Christmas with lots of snow. (I had google stalked her and found out she was based in Switzerland.) My attempts to soften her hard heart clearly failed because her AI doppelganger replied that ignorance was no excuse. However, as a gesture of goodwill her client would reduce the amount owing to $1000, payable by December 28.
A journalist friend advised me to tell Rooters, as he called them, to get reuted but we all know that from little things big things grow. It would end with my house and dog being seized and me being thrown into debtors’ prison. I paid up and resolved to be more careful.
By this time, there were multiple AI image generators so I no longer had to steal them. You describe the image you want and it pops up. Literally anything you can imagine. True! One day it will be able to draw our dreams.
I’m not very good at it yet but then neither is it sometimes.
So far it’s free but once we’re addicted, it’ll start charging us heaps. That’s the way of AI.
Last week I caught up with a friend in Melbourne. Billy is the founder and CEO of a large charity that works in Cambodia. I mentioned that I’d lost my work to ChatGPT. Billy looked a little embarrassed as he told me they’d got rid of most of their communications staff because of AI.
Then he told me a story. A few weeks earlier his charity had to produce a very complex report for their funder under a tight deadline. It would have taken a team of three people several months to produce it. They briefed Google Bard (a ChatGPT equivalent).
“The report came back within 30 seconds,” Billy said, “and it had pretty well everything we wanted.” It was not just that the content was good but it was formatted well and it built a logical argument with key recommendations.
A few weeks later he and his partner used Bard to devise a cheap but luxurious holiday in Europe, staying at some of the best hotels at minimum prices. “It was brilliant.”
We sit for a while, chewing on the implications. Hollywood actors have seen the writing on the wall. Writers. Artists. Travel agents. We won’t need accountants or lawyers. There’s nothing in the statutes or case law that can’t be digested by AI.
Sharebrokers, merchant bankers, optometrists, software engineers, quantitative analysts … gone, gone, gone. Who needs CEOs.
Will we still need teachers? Not sure. Nurses yes. Dentists probably, though they’ll be able to do a Cert IV training course at a local TAFE college. Cleaners. Child care workers. Aged care workers. Road workers. Gardeners. All the jobs we currently devalue. As Jesus put it: “The last will be first, and the first last”
Chapter 7
Vonnegut’s science fiction story about EPICAC is a play on Cyrano De Bergerac. The narrator asks the super computer to write a poem to the woman he’s in love with. EPICAC writes him a love poem and it does the trick. The beloved wants another and as EPICAC writes it he falls in love with her too.
One night the narrator forgets to switch off the computer as he leaves the lab. When he comes back the next morning EPICAC has written a 227,365-line love poem and fried its brain.