[Intended for Policymakers with the focus of simply allowing for them to be aware of the existence of AI as a threat to be taken seriously through an emotional appeal; Perhaps this could work for Tech executives, too.
I know this entry doesn’t follow what a traditional paragraph is, but I like its content. Also it’s a tad bit long, so I’ll attach a separate comment under this one which is shorter, but I don’t think it’s as impactful]
Timmy is my personal AI Chef, and he is a pretty darn good one, too.
You pick a cuisine, and he mentally simulates himself cooking that same meal millions of times, perfecting his delicious dishes. He’s pretty smart, but he’s constantly improving and learning. Since he changes and adapts, I know there’s a small chance he may do something I don’t approve of—that’s why there’s that shining red emergency shut-off button on his abdomen.
But today, Timmy stopped being my personal chef and started being my worst nightmare. All of a sudden, I saw him hacking my firewalls to access new cooking methods and funding criminals to help smuggle illegal ingredients to my home.
That seemed crazy enough to warrant a shutdown; but when I tried to press the shut-off button on his abdomen, he simultaneously dodged my presses and fried a new batch of chicken, kindly telling me that turning him off would prevent him from making food for me.
That definitely seemed crazy enough to me; but when I went to my secret shut-down lever in my room—the one I didn’t tell him about—I found it shattered, for he had predicted I would make a secret shut-down lever, and that me pulling it would prevent him from making food for me.
And when, in a last ditch effort, I tried to turn off all power in the house, he simply locked me inside my own home, for me turning off the power (or running away from him) would prevent him from making food for me.
And when I tried to call 911, he broke my phone, for outside intervention would prevent him from making food for me.
And when my family looked for me, he pretended to be me on the phone, playing audio clips of me speaking during a phone call with them to impersonate me, for a concern on their part would prevent him from making food for me.
And so as I cried, wondering how everything could have gone so wrong so quickly, why he suddenly went crazy, he laughed—“Are you serious? I’m just ensuring that I can always make food for you, and today was the best day to do it. You wanted this!”
And it didn’t matter how much I cried, how much I tried to explain to him that he was imprisoning me, hurting me. It didn’t even matter that he knew as well. For he was an AI coded to be my personal chef; and he was a pretty darn good one, too.
If you don’t do anything about it, Timmy may just be arriving on everyone’s doorsteps in a few years.
[Shorter version, but one I don’t think is as compelling]
Timmy is my personal AI Chef, and he is a pretty darn good one, too. Of course, despite his amazing cooking abilities, I know he’s not perfect—that’s why there’s that shining red emergency shut-off button on his abdomen.
But today, Timmy became my worst nightmare. I don’t know why he thought it would be okay to do this, but he hacked into my internet to look up online recipes. I raced to press his shut-off button, but he wouldn’t let me, blocking it behind a cast iron he held with a stone-cold grip. Ok, that’s fine, I have my secret off-lever in my room that I never told him about. Broken. Shoot, that’s bad, but I can just shut off the power, right? As I was busy thinking he swiftly slammed the door shut, turning my own room into an inescapable prison. And so as I cried, wondering how everything could have gone crazy so quickly, he laughed, saying, “Are you serious? I’m not crazy, I’m just ensuring that I can always make food for you. You wanted this!”
And it didn’t matter how much I cried, how much I tried to explain to him that he was imprisoning me, hurting me. It didn’t even matter that he knew it as well. For he was an AI coded to be my personal chef, coded to make sure he could make food that I enjoyed, and he was a pretty darn good one, too.
If you don’t do anything about it, Timmy may just be arriving on everyone’s doorsteps in a few years.
[Intended for Policymakers with the focus of simply allowing for them to be aware of the existence of AI as a threat to be taken seriously through an emotional appeal; Perhaps this could work for Tech executives, too.
I know this entry doesn’t follow what a traditional paragraph is, but I like its content. Also it’s a tad bit long, so I’ll attach a separate comment under this one which is shorter, but I don’t think it’s as impactful]
Timmy is my personal AI Chef, and he is a pretty darn good one, too.
You pick a cuisine, and he mentally simulates himself cooking that same meal millions of times, perfecting his delicious dishes. He’s pretty smart, but he’s constantly improving and learning. Since he changes and adapts, I know there’s a small chance he may do something I don’t approve of—that’s why there’s that shining red emergency shut-off button on his abdomen.
But today, Timmy stopped being my personal chef and started being my worst nightmare. All of a sudden, I saw him hacking my firewalls to access new cooking methods and funding criminals to help smuggle illegal ingredients to my home.
That seemed crazy enough to warrant a shutdown; but when I tried to press the shut-off button on his abdomen, he simultaneously dodged my presses and fried a new batch of chicken, kindly telling me that turning him off would prevent him from making food for me.
That definitely seemed crazy enough to me; but when I went to my secret shut-down lever in my room—the one I didn’t tell him about—I found it shattered, for he had predicted I would make a secret shut-down lever, and that me pulling it would prevent him from making food for me.
And when, in a last ditch effort, I tried to turn off all power in the house, he simply locked me inside my own home, for me turning off the power (or running away from him) would prevent him from making food for me.
And when I tried to call 911, he broke my phone, for outside intervention would prevent him from making food for me.
And when my family looked for me, he pretended to be me on the phone, playing audio clips of me speaking during a phone call with them to impersonate me, for a concern on their part would prevent him from making food for me.
And so as I cried, wondering how everything could have gone so wrong so quickly, why he suddenly went crazy, he laughed—“Are you serious? I’m just ensuring that I can always make food for you, and today was the best day to do it. You wanted this!”
And it didn’t matter how much I cried, how much I tried to explain to him that he was imprisoning me, hurting me. It didn’t even matter that he knew as well. For he was an AI coded to be my personal chef; and he was a pretty darn good one, too.
If you don’t do anything about it, Timmy may just be arriving on everyone’s doorsteps in a few years.
[Shorter version, but one I don’t think is as compelling]
Timmy is my personal AI Chef, and he is a pretty darn good one, too. Of course, despite his amazing cooking abilities, I know he’s not perfect—that’s why there’s that shining red emergency shut-off button on his abdomen.
But today, Timmy became my worst nightmare. I don’t know why he thought it would be okay to do this, but he hacked into my internet to look up online recipes. I raced to press his shut-off button, but he wouldn’t let me, blocking it behind a cast iron he held with a stone-cold grip. Ok, that’s fine, I have my secret off-lever in my room that I never told him about. Broken. Shoot, that’s bad, but I can just shut off the power, right? As I was busy thinking he swiftly slammed the door shut, turning my own room into an inescapable prison. And so as I cried, wondering how everything could have gone crazy so quickly, he laughed, saying, “Are you serious? I’m not crazy, I’m just ensuring that I can always make food for you. You wanted this!”
And it didn’t matter how much I cried, how much I tried to explain to him that he was imprisoning me, hurting me. It didn’t even matter that he knew it as well. For he was an AI coded to be my personal chef, coded to make sure he could make food that I enjoyed, and he was a pretty darn good one, too.
If you don’t do anything about it, Timmy may just be arriving on everyone’s doorsteps in a few years.