Descartes Saves the Future

Looking back, I think the most philosophically honest thing I ever did on my own, without the benefit of other people to bounce ideas off of, was the time I read Descartes' Discourse on Method (which was also, incidentally, the name of a former love-interest's boyfriend's punk-rock garage band - and you can probably understand the attraction). I was in Gardiner, Montana, a tiny town located just north of Yellowstone Park, and, after eschewing the day's hiking and and sightseeing due to a head cold, I took a walk in search of a nice place to read. The place I found was the underside of the main bridge leading across the river to the north end of town, and it proved ideal. The flowing water provided a constant white noise to mask the sounds of the street, the shade keep the temperature at a very comfortable level, and the concrete bridge supports provided a firm place to sit without the risk of drifting off to sleep. It was a nice place for quiet reflection; much better, I dare say, than sitting in an oven.

Discourse on Method is one of the most important pieces of Modern Philosophy; indeed, it could be credited with marking the beginning of philosophy in the Modern era. In it, Descartes outlines his method of inquiry into the nature of the universe: not by studying the writings of previous generations and building from that foundation, but by dynamiting the foundation and building anew, using only the logical mind as a guide. Descartes, in short, was a badass.

That he got it completely wrong, of course, is something the... less theistic among us are wont to point out. And I'll admit, his second leap, to an all-powerful benevolent God, doesn't seem to be exactly rigorous. But enough of your nay-saying. Descartes effectively hit the 'Reset' button on philosophy, at a time when the field had grown stagnant and unproductive, and for that alone he's one of my favorite philosophers of all time.

But before I get too deep into my rant about the awesomeness of Rene Descartes, let me return to my promised topic: How can one tell the difference between a normal human being and a Terminator?

(Mind you, I'm referring to the sort of Terminator that tries to kill John Connor, not the sort that has a 2+/4+ invulnerable save, though both soak up bullets like a sponge).

A Terminator appears, for all intents and purposes, to be human. Beneath the fleshy exterior layer (and liquid metal was just plain hax) is a robotic body, controlled by a robotic mind. Though controlled by SkyNet, Terminators appear to have individual thought-processes that allow them to operate (several decades) beyond direct satellite control. They are used, among other things, to infiltrate the surviving resistance disguised as humans, and bring it down from the inside.

Descartes is surprisingly prescientient to this threat to humanity's survival. In the latter portion of Discourse (Part 5 in my version, though I'm not sure if this is his notation or the translator's), Descartes pauses to examine the means of descerning humans from "machines that bore resembelence to our bodies and imitated our actions as far as this is practically feasible." The finds two methods by which this is possible.

The first is that an android of the sort described would be unable to "use words or other signs, or to put them together as we do in order to declare our thoughts." This is, by the way, almost exactly the same as the Turing Test, a pragmatic approach to measuring a computer system's artificial intelligence. Descartes, who of course had no conception of electrical circuits whatsoever, immediately ruled out the possibility of a machine being capable of holding enough functions to respond appropriately to anything that could be said in its presence, and even today, no machine has passed the Turing Test (at least, the rigorous version of it).

Descartes' other method is similar, and involves the Terminator's ability to learn new tasks. Specifically, he notes that "although they might perform many tasks very well or perhaps better than any of us, such machines would inevitably fail in other tasks." This is, he reasons, because a finite machine cannot have functions built-in to accomplish any task. Phrased differently, a machine would not be able to learn, and could only do those tasks for which it was explicitly designed.

Both of these, interestingly, should work against the rise of the machines. While Terminators are capable of fairly complex speach, any conversation is basically of the nature "Ask question - Get answer - Leave." I doubt anyone having a conversation longer than five minutes with one would fail to notice that there's something a little odd about them, and if one was put in a Turing Test, my money is that it'd lose pretty hard. Half the reason Terminators get away with being as off as they are is simply that people aren't expecting robotic assassins from the future, and just write them off as 'a little strange'.

Of course, a five-minute conversation with a Terminator is also most probably fatal. Fortunately, Descartes' second method also holds true: While Terminators are much better than humans at many things (like, I dunno, not dying?), they tend to approach the problem of killing their target using the same 'walk towards him slowly and menacingly' formula, even when its been shown repeatedly to be ineffective. SkyNet as a whole might be a different story, but individual Terminators do not display any indication of learning, and could thus be distinguished from normal humans (who think, and therefore are).

That, or you could just trust the dogs.

Next Time: An Opposing 40k List & Archilocus the Warrior-Poet