The movie Ex Machina is what I call “philosophy with a budget.” While philosophy professors like me present philosophical problems using words and PowerPoint, movies like Ex Machina can bring philosophical problems to dramatic life. This allows use to jealously reference these films and show clips in vain attempts to awaken somnolent students from their dogmatic slumbers. For those who have not seen the movie, there will be some spoilers.
While the Matrix engaged the broad epistemic problem of the external world (the challenge of determining if what I am experiencing is really real for real), Ex Machina focuses on a limited set of problems, all connected to the mind. Since the film is about AI, this is not surprising. The gist of the movie is that the tech bro Nathan has created an AI named Ava and he wants an employee, Caleb, to test her.
The movie explicitly presents the test proposed by Alan Turing. The idea is that if a person cannot distinguish between a human and a computer by engaging in a natural language conversation via text, then the computer would have passed the Turing test. In the movie, the test is modified: Caleb knows that Ava is a machine and will be interacting with her in person.
In the movie, Ava would easily pass the original Turing Test—although the revelation that she is a machine makes the application of the original test impossible (the test is supposed to be conducted in ignorance to remove bias). As such, Nathan modifies the test.
What Nathan seems to be doing, although he does not explicitly describe it as such, is challenging Caleb to determine if Ava has a mind. In philosophy, this is known as the problem of other minds. The basic idea is that although I know I have a mind, the problem is that I need a method by which to know that other entities have minds. This problem can also be presented in less metaphysical terms by focusing on the problem of determining whether an entity thinks or not.
Descartes, in his discussion of whether animals have minds, argued that the definitive indicator of having a mind (thinking) is the ability to use true language. Crudely put, the idea is that if something really talks, then it is reasonable to regard it as a thinking being. Descartes was careful to distinguish between what would be mere automated responses and actual talking:
How many different automata or moving machines can be made by the industry of man […] For we can easily understand a machine’s being constituted so that it can utter words, and even emit some responses to action on it of a corporeal kind, which brings about a change in its organs; for instance, if touched in a particular part it may ask what we wish to say to it; if in another part it may exclaim that it is being hurt, and so on. But it never happens that it arranges its speech in various ways, in order to reply appropriately to everything that may be said in its presence, as even the lowest type of man can do.
As a test for intelligence, artificial or otherwise, this seems reasonable. There is, of course, the practical concern that there might be forms of intelligence that use language that we would not recognize as language and there is the theoretical concern that there could be intelligence that does not use language at all. Fortunately, Ava uses English and these problems are bypassed.
Ava easily passes the Cartesian test: she can reply appropriately to everything said to her and, aside from her appearance, is behaviorally indistinguishable from a human. Nathan, however, seems to want even more than just the ability to pass this sort of test and appears to work in, without acknowledging that he is doing so, the Voight-Kampff Test from Phillip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? In this book, which inspired the movie Blade Runner, there are replicants that look and (mostly) act just like humans. Replicants are not allowed on earth, under penalty of death, and there are police who specialize in finding and killing them. Since the replicants are apparently physically indistinguishable from humans, the police need to rely on the Voight-Kampff Test. This test is designed to determine the emotional responses of the subject and thus distinguish humans from replicants.
Since Caleb knows that Ava is not a human (homo sapiens), the object of the test is not to tell whether she is a human or a machine. Rather, the object seems to be to determine if she has what the pop-psychologists refer to as Emotional Intelligence (E.Q.) This is different from intelligence and is defined as “the level of your ability to understand other people, what motivates them and how to work cooperatively with them.” Less nicely, it would presumably also include knowing how to emotionally manipulate people to achieve one’s goals. In the case of Ava, the test of her E.Q. is her ability to understand and influence the emotions and behavior of Caleb. Perhaps this test should be called the “Ava test” in her honor. Implementing it could, as the movie shows, be somewhat problematic: it is one thing to talk to a machine and quite another to become emotionally involved with it.
While the Voight-Kampff Test is fictional, there is a somewhat similar test in the real world. This test, designed by Robert Hare, is the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. This is intended to provide a way to determine if a person is a psychopath or not. While Nathan does not mention this test, he does indicate to Caleb that part of the challenge is to determine whether Ava really likes him or is simply manipulating him (to achieve her programed goal of escape). Ava, it turns out, seems to be a psychopath (or at least acts like one).
In the next essay, I will consider the matter of testing in more depth.
Peripheral Thought(s):
I have read some of an Australian’s investigations and thoughts on cephalopods. I think his name is Godfrey-Smith and his work seems signal. There is one book I have not read and the head-title for that work is Other Minds, if I remember correctly. It fascinates me because paleontology strongly suggests life on earth came from the sea, which makes logical sense, insofar as water is essential for life, as WE know it. Connecting dots; following breadcrumbs, see. Anyway, these *primitive* lifeforms have defense mechanisms. Some can emit “ink jets”, while fleeing would-be predators. Others can glow when frightened, confusing their hungry pursuers. So, the pursued have “other minds”, however fundamental and rudimentary those may be. Survival and perpetuation of species is the game. Their equipment is fundamental and rudimentary, but it works. And that is the point, or one of them, Godfrey-Smith has made.
In my humble estimation, it seems problematic to qualitatively evaluate whether Ava is capable of “liking” anything, let alone anyone. Ava is programmable, as any AI adjunct we now have. In that sense, *she* is responsive in a quantitative way. But, determination of the qualitative nature of her response(s) is a more difficult task. Similarly, if not identically, deciding whether Ava is, or could be, manipulative seems both tentative and speculative. I am not a programmer, that was a piece of my brother’s successful career, so, I learned a little from him. That said, can Ava have intention towards certain ends, if *she* knows what intention is? Going further backwards, would intention be a capacity of Ava, sans the essential step of *her* programming, a priori? Humans learn intentionality through a progression of intellectual development and experience. They also learn, through trial-and-error, the advantages (and pitfalls) of manipulating others. In that sense, roughly, experience,reasoning, and memory are elements of programming for the human animal. I suppose, though I don’t know, that programmable equipment has some capacity for inference. Given all the twists and turns, is a computational machine capable of “liking”?