海角大神

鈥淚nternet鈥� is a workmanlike name for the 50-year-old nervous system of packet switches, servers, and routers that spans the globe; is commonplace in homes, at work, in cars; and absorbs every moment of every smart-phone owner in line at every bus station or coffee shop.

鈥淲orld Wide Web鈥� is a friendlier term. But it鈥檚 essentially the same idea 鈥� a phrase that indicates the far-flung threads spun of communications technology. But what鈥檚 the name of the result of all the human business that occurs on the Internet, the cumulative effect of quadrillion bits of data being processed, and the prolific harvest of ideas, notions, relationships, associations, riffs, and nonsense that pour out of this wonder of technology? Music, like the Internet, is a technology. 鈥淭he Marriage of Figaro鈥� is what Mozart named one magnificent result.

In biology, we give intelligent creatures generic names: dust mite, for instance, or humpback whale. Those life-forms we become more familiar with get unique designations, sort of like URLs: Albert Einstein; Cousin Louie, who is likely to say anything at a family dinner; Molly, the terrier who loves to play ball.

As the Web becomes denser and faster year by year, futurists believe there will be a point where it, too, will seem to exhibit unique intelligence. Already, as Greg Lamb notes in a Monitor cover story (click here to read it), IBM鈥檚 Watson supercomputer, by tapping the infosphere at hypersonic speed and besting the reigning 鈥�Jeopardy!鈥� game show champions, has come close to passing the 鈥淭uring test鈥� in which it seems indistinguishable from human intelligence.

When the Mars Curiosity rover follows its advanced programming, makes last-minute adjustments on its own, and lands flawlessly on the fourth planet鈥檚 surface; when Google鈥檚 autonomous cars navigate California鈥檚 highways; or when Apple鈥檚 Siri seems to be listening to us and responding with useful information (some of the time, at least) 鈥� there鈥檚 intelligence at work that is at least as impressive as a dust mite or terrier.

Some scientists refer to the coming age as 鈥渢ranshuman.鈥� More dystopian observers describe the Internet as a 鈥済lobal brain鈥� or 鈥渉ive mind鈥� and imagine human-machine 鈥渃yborgs.鈥� But why be so ominous? When humans act together, we call ourselves 鈥渢he people,鈥� as in 鈥淲e, the people鈥� or 鈥淭he people have spoken.鈥� When we think together via the Internet, that鈥檚 us, the people, too.聽

For now, we鈥檙e calling advanced information technology artificial intelligence, or AI.聽

AI has a long history rooted in high levels of logic. As computational power has exploded, the brute force of all that data processing has run rings around the elegant logic trees envisioned by AI pioneers like Marvin Minsky and John McCarthy. The term AI lost its original meaning. Technologists appropriated it. It is artificial because it is human-made. And it increasingly shows signs of intelligence.

No matter how much we rely on and learn from AI, however, it cannot answer the biggest question: Where did intelligence come from? As the biblical Job was asked, 鈥淲ho has put wisdom in the inward parts? or who has given understanding to the heart?鈥�

Technological achievements are breathtaking. But the original breath each of us took was no human accomplishment. A higher and more profound Intelligence created intelligence.

John Yemma is editor of The Monitor.