I have grown pessimistic about our ability to solve the open technical problems even given 100 years of work on them.
Why?
I have grown pessimistic about our ability to solve the open technical problems even given 100 years of work on them.
Why?
I agree with a bunch of this post in spirit—that there are underlying patterns to alignment deserving of true name—although I disagree about… not the patterns you’re gesturing at, exactly, but more how you’re gesturing at them. Like, I agree there’s something important and real about “a chunk of the environment which looks like it’s been optimized for something,” and “a system which robustly makes the world look optimized for a certain objective, across many different contexts.” But I don’t think the true names of alignment will be behaviorist (“as if” descriptions, based on observed transformations between inputs and output). I.e., whereas you describe it as one subtlety/open problem that this account doesn’t “talk directly about what concrete patterns or tell-tale signs make something look like it’s been optimized for X,” my own sense is that this is more like the whole problem (and also not well characterized as a coherence problem). It’s hard for me to write down the entire intuition I have about this, but some thoughts:
Behaviorist explanations don’t usually generalize as well. Partially this is because there are often many possible causal stories to tell about any given history of observations. Perhaps the wooden sphere was created by a program optimizing for how to fit blocks together into a sphere, or perhaps the program is more general (about fitting blocks together into any shape) or more particular (about fitting these particular wood blocks together) etc. Usually the response is to consider the truth of the matter to be the shortest program consistent with all observations, but this is enables blindspots, since it might be wrong! You don’t actually know what’s true when you use procedures like this, since you’re not looking at the mechanics of it directly (the particular causal process which is in fact happening). But knowing the actual causal process is powerful, since it will tell you how the outputs will vary with other inputs, which is an important component to ensuring that unwanted outputs don’t obtain.
This seems important to me for at least a couple reasons. One is that we can only really bound the risk if we know what the distribution of possible outputs is. This doesn’t necessarily require understanding the underlying causal process, but understanding the underlying causal process will, I think, necessarily give you this (absent noise/unknown unknowns etc). Two is that blindspots are exploitable—anytime our measurements fail to capture reality, we enable vectors of deception. I think this will always be a problem to some extent, but it seems worse to me the less we have a causal understanding. For instance, I’m more worried about things like “maybe this program represents the behavior, but we’re kind of just guessing based on priors” than I am about e.g., calculating the pressure of this system. Because in the former there are many underlying causal processes (e.g., programs) that map to the same observation, whereas in the latter it’s more like there are many underlying states which do. And this is pretty different, since the way you extrapolate from a pressure reading will be the same no matter the microstate, but this isn’t true of the program: different ones suggest different future outcomes. You can try to get around this by entertaining the possibility that all programs which are currently consistent with the observations might be correct, weighted by their simplicity, rather than assuming a particular one. But I think in practice this can fail. E.g., scheming behavior might look essentially identical to non-scheming behavior for an advanced intelligence (according to our ability to estimate this), despite the underlying program being quite importantly different. Such that to really explain whether a system is aligned, I think we’ll need a way of understanding the actual causal variables at play.
Many accounts of cognition are impossible (eg AIXI, VNM rationality, or anything utilizing utility functions, many AIT concepts), since they include the impossible step of considering all possible worlds. I think people normally consider this to be something like a “God’s eye view” of intelligence—ultimately correct, but incomputable—which can be projected down to us bounded creatures via approximation, but I think this is the wrong sort of in-principle to real-world bridge. Like, it seems to me that intelligence is fundamentally about ~“finding and exploiting abstractions,” which is something that having limited resources forces you to do. I.e., intelligence comes from the boundedness. Such that the emphasis should imo go the other way: figuring out the core of what this process of “finding and exploiting abstractions” is, and then generalizing outward. This feels related to behaviorism insomuch as behaviorist accounts often rely on concepts like “searching over the space of all programs to find the shortest possible one.”
By faithful and human-legible, I mean that the model’s reasoning is done in a way that is directly understandable by humans and accurately reflects the reasons for the model’s actions.
Curious why you say this, in particular the bit about “accurately reflects the reasons for the model’s actions.” How do you know that? (My impression is that this sort of judgment is often based on ~common sense/folk reasoning, ie, that we judge this in a similar way to how we might judge whether another person took sensical actions—was the reasoning internally consistent, does it seem predictive of the outcome, etc.? Which does seem like some evidence to me, although not enough to say that it accurately reflects what’s happening. But perhaps I’m missing something here).
I purposefully use these terms vaguely since my concepts about them are in fact vague. E.g., when I say “alignment” I am referring to something roughly like “the AI wants what we want.” But what is “wanting,” and what does it mean for something far more powerful to conceptualize that wanting in a similar way, and what might wanting mean as a collective, and so on? All of these questions are very core to what it means for an AI system to be “aligned,” yet I don’t have satisfying or precise answers for any of them. So it seems more natural to me, at this stage of scientific understanding, to simply own that—not to speak more rigorously than is in fact warranted, not to pretend I know more than I in fact do.
The goal, of course, is to eventually understand minds well enough to be more precise. But before we get there, most precision will likely be misguided—formalizing the wrong thing, or missing the key relationships, or what have you. And I think this does more harm than good, as it causes us to collectively misplace where the remaining confusion lives, when locating our confusion is (imo) one of the major bottlenecks to solving alignment.
I’m not convinced that the “hard parts” of alignment are difficult in the standardly difficult, g-requiring way that e.g., a physics post-doc might possess. I do think it takes an unusual skillset, though, which is where most of the trouble lives. I.e., I think the pre-paradigmatic skillset requires unusually strong epistemics (because you often need to track for yourself what makes sense), ~creativity (the ability to synthesize new concepts, to generate genuinely novel hypotheses/ideas), good ability to traverse levels of abstraction (connecting details to large level structure, this is especially important for the alignment problem), not being efficient market pilled (you have to believe that more is possible in order to aim for it), noticing confusion, and probably a lot more that I’m failing to name here.
Most importantly, though, I think it requires quite a lot of willingness to remain confused. Many scientists who accomplished great things (Darwin, Einstein) didn’t have publishable results on their main inquiry for years. Einstein, for instance, talks about wandering off for weeks in a state of “psychic tension” in his youth, it took ~ten years to go from his first inkling of relativity to special relativity, and he nearly gave up at many points (including the week before he figured it out). Figuring out knowledge at the edge of human understanding can just be… really fucking brutal. I feel like this is largely forgotten, or ignored, or just not understood. Partially that’s because in retrospect everything looks obvious, so it doesn’t seem like it could have been that hard, but partially it’s because almost no one tries to do this sort of work, so there aren’t societal structures erected around it, and hence little collective understanding of what it’s like.
Anyway, I suspect there are really strong selection pressures for who ends up doing this sort of thing, since a lot needs to go right: smart enough, creative enough, strong epistemics, independent, willing to spend years without legible output, exceptionally driven, and so on. Indeed, the last point seems important to me—many great scientists are obsessed. Spend night and day on it, it’s in their shower thoughts, can’t put it down kind of obsessed. And I suspect this sort of has to be true because something has to motivate them to go against every conceivable pressure (social, financial, psychological) and pursue the strange meaning anyway.
I don’t think the EA pipeline is much selecting for pre-paradigmatic scientists, but I don’t think lack of trying to get physicists to work on alignment is really the bottleneck either. Mostly I think selection effects are very strong, e.g., the Sequences was, imo, one of the more effective recruiting strategies for alignment. I don’t really know what to recommend here, but I think I would anti-recommend putting all the physics post-docs from good universities in a room in the hope that they make progress. Requesting that the world write another book as good as the Sequences is a… big ask, although to the extent it’s possible I expect it’ll go much further in drawing people out who will self select into this rather unusual “job.”
I took John to be arguing that we won’t get a good solution out of this paradigm (so long as the humans doing it aren’t expert at alignment), rather than we couldn’t recognize a good solution if it were proposed.
Separately, I think that recognizing good solutions is potentially pretty fraught, especially the more capable the system we’re outsourcing it to is. Like anything about a proposed solution that we don’t know how to measure or we don’t understand could be exploited, and it’s really hard to tell those failures exist almost definitionally. E.g., a plan with many steps where it’s hard to verify there won’t be unintended consequences, a theory of interpretability which leaves out a key piece we’d need to detect deception, etc. etc. It’s really hard to know/trust that things like that won’t happen when we’re dealing with quite intelligent machines (potentially optimizing against us), and it seems hard to get this sort of labor out of not-very-intelligent machines (for similar reasons as John points out in his last post, i.e., before a field is paradigmatic outsourcing doesn’t really work, since it’s difficult to specify questions well when we don’t even know what questions to ask in the first place).
In general these sorts of outsourcing plans seem to me to rely on a narrow range of AI capability levels (one which I’m not even sure exists): smart enough to solve novel scientific problems, but not smart enough to successfully deceive us if it tried. That makes me feel pretty skeptical about such plans working.
Jan suggested a similar one (Baraka), but I was going to say Koyaanisqatsi. It’s one of my favorite films; I still feel deeply affected by it. I bring it up here, though, because it does an excellent job of inviting viewers to do original seeing. It’s basically a 90 minute documentary about the world, but it doesn’t feel like it has any agenda. It’s just shot after shot of what this planet is like (the Grand Canyon, a commute to work, a factory farm). It doesn’t shy away from anything, doesn’t feel like it’s grasping at some goal. Just an honest, gentle look at what the world is like, and what humans are up to.
Part of the reason I say that it’s good at inviting original seeing is that it does a really excellent job of perspective modulation (especially wrt time). E.g., it’ll slow down or speed up processes in ways that made me pop out of how I normally relate to them. It lingers on features I wouldn’t normally wouldn’t linger on (like someone’s face) which turned it into this entirely new and strange experience. In general, it takes the mundane and makes it into something kind of glorious—a piece of the world to be marveled at, to be wondered at, a thing to be curious about.
But it’s not just mundanity either; it reminds you that you’re in a vast universe, on a planet that not too long ago didn’t contain you. It starts with a close up of a cave painting, and it ends with this haunting scene of a rocket falling down to Earth. And I remember really grokking, at the end of it, just how strange and just how powerful a thing intelligence is—the magnitude of what we’ve accomplished. I’d had that feeling before, but something about it really stayed with me after watching this film.
The interpretability safety case section seems to make the rather strong claim that the activation of known sabotage-related features is necessary for sabotage to occur (emphasis mine):
[C1.1] The model will be unable to accomplish organizational sabotage (T1) or to undermine oversight (T3) without triggering our feature-based monitoring (M1.1) and a detailed analysis of the session.
Afaict, the way that they establish this link (that a feature activation is necessary for a behavior to occur) is through ablation studies. Basically, if deactivating a feature prevents a model organism from committing a dangerous behavior, then they conclude that the feature causes the behavior. And although it does seem like this sort of test will generate Bayesian evidence about which features contribute to sabotage-capacity, I’m confused why the author thinks this would generate strong Bayesian evidence, much less identify the necessity conditions for sabotage with ~certainty?
Like, it seems plausible to me that some other unknown combination of features might create sabotage-like behavior, or that some relevant features were missed, or that there were other, ill-described-as-features mechanisms which can cause sabotage, etc. And my guess is that the evidence this sort of testing does generate will become weaker over time—i.e., once our safety precautions start to really matter—since more intelligent systems will presumably be able to cause sabotage in more numerous and creative ways.
Some of these potential setbacks are mentioned, and I get that this is just a preliminary sketch. But still, I’m confused where the confidence is coming from—why does the author expect this process to yield high confidence of safety?
I think I probably agree, although I feel somewhat wary about it. My main hesitations are:
The lack of epistemic modifiers seems off to me, relative to the strength of the arguments they’re making. Such that while I agree with many claims, my imagined reader who is coming into this with zero context is like “why should I believe this?” E.g., “Without intervention, humanity will be summarily outcompeted and relegated to irrelevancy,” which like, yes, but also—on what grounds should I necessarily conclude this? They gave some argument along the lines of “intelligence is powerful,” and that seems probably true, but imo not enough to justify the claim that it will certainly lead to our irrelevancy. All of this would be fixed (according to me) if it were framed more as like “here are some reasons you might be pretty worried,” of which there are plenty, or “here’s what I think,” rather than “here is what will definitely happen if we continue on this path,” which feels less certain/obvious to me.
Along the same lines, I think it’s pretty hard to tell whether this piece is in good faith or not. E.g., in the intro Connor writes “The default path we are on now is one of ruthless, sociopathic corporations racing toward building the most intelligent, powerful AIs as fast as possible to compete with one another and vie for monopolization and control of both the market and geopolitics.” Which, again, I don’t necessarily disagree with, but my imagined reader with zero context is like “what, really? sociopaths? control over geopolitics?” I.e., I’m expecting readers to question the integrity of the piece, and to be more unsure of how to update on it (e.g. “how do I know this whole thing isn’t just a strawman?” etc.).
There are many places where they kind of just state things without justifying them much. I think in the best case this might cause readers to think through whether such claims make sense (either on their own, or by reading the hyperlinked stuff—both of which put quite a lot of cognitive load on them), and in the worst case just causes readers to either bounce or kind of blindly swallow what they’re saying. E.g., “Black-Box Evaluations can only catch all relevant safety issues insofar as we have either an exhaustive list of all possible failure modes, or a mechanistic model of how concrete capabilities lead to safety risks.” They say this without argument and then move on. And although I agree with them (having spent a lot of time thinking this through myself), it’s really not obvious at first blush. Why do you need an exhaustive list? One might imagine, for instance, that a small number of tests would generalize well. And do you need mechanistic models? Sometimes medicines work safely without that, etc., etc. I haven’t read the entire Compendium closely, but my sense is that this is not an isolated incident. And I don’t think this is a fatal flaw or anything—they’re moving through a ton of material really fast and it’s hard to give a thorough account of all claims—but it does make me more hesitant to use it as the default “here’s what’s happening” document.
All of that said, I do broadly agree with the set of arguments, and I think it’s a really cool activity for people to write up what they believe. I’m glad they did it. But I’m not sure how comfortable I feel about sending it to people who haven’t thought much about AI.
“It’s plausible that things could go much faster than this, but as a prediction about what will actually happen, humanity as a whole probably doesn’t want things to get incredibly crazy so fast, and so we’re likely to see something tamer.” I basically agree with that.
I feel confused about how this squares with Dario’s view that AI is “inevitable,” and “driven by powerful market forces.” Like, if humanity starts producing a technology which makes practically all aspects of life better, the idea is that this will just… stop? I’m sure some people will be scared of how fast it’s going, but it’s hard for me to see the case for the market in aggregate incentivizing less of a technology which fixes ~all problems and creates tremendous value. Maybe the idea, instead, is that governments will step in...? Which seems plausible to me, but as Ryan notes, Dario doesn’t say this.
Thanks, I think you’re right on both points—that the old RSP also didn’t require pre-specified evals, and that the section about Capability Reports just describes the process for non-threshold-triggering eval results—so I’ve retracted those parts of my comment; my apologies for the error. I’m on vacation right now so was trying to read quickly, but I should have checked more closely before commenting.
That said, it does seem to me like the “if/then” relationships in this RSP have been substantially weakened. The previous RSP contained sufficiently much wiggle room that I didn’t interpret it as imposing real constraints on Anthropic’s actions; but it did at least seem to me to be aiming at well-specified “if’s,” i.e., ones which depended on the results of specific evaluations. Like, the previous RSP describes their response policy as: “If an evaluation threshold triggers, we will follow the following procedure” (emphasis mine), where the trigger for autonomous risk happens if “at least 50% of the tasks are passed.”
In other words, the “if’s” in the first RSP seemed more objective to me; the current RSP strikes me as a downgrade in that respect. Now, instead of an evaluation threshold, the “if” is determined by some opaque internal process at Anthropic that the document largely doesn’t describe. I think in practice this is what was happening before—i.e., that the policy basically reduced to Anthropic crudely eyeballing the risk—but it’s still disappointing to me to see this level of subjectivity more actively codified into policy.
My impression is also that this RSP is more Orwellian than the first one, and this is part of what I was trying to gesture at. Not just that their decision process has become more ambiguous and subjective, but that the whole thing seems designed to be glossed over, such that descriptions of risks won’t really load in readers’ minds. This RSP seems much sparser on specifics, and much heavier on doublespeak—e.g., they use the phrase “unable to make the required showing” to mean “might be terribly dangerous.” It also seems to me to describe many things too vaguely to easily argue against. For example, they claim they will “explain why the tests yielded such results,” but my understanding is that this is mostly not possible yet, i.e., that it’s an open scientific question, for most such tests, why their models produce the behavior they do. But without knowing what “tests” they mean, nor the sort of explanations they’re aiming for, it’s hard to argue with; I’m suspicious this is intentional.
In the previous RSP, I had the sense that Anthropic was attempting to draw red lines—points at which, if models passed certain evaluations, Anthropic committed to pause and develop new safeguards. That is, if evaluations triggered, then they would implement safety measures. The “if” was already sketchy in the first RSP, as Anthropic was allowed to “determine whether the evaluation was overly conservative,” i.e., they were allowed to retroactively declare red lines green. Indeed, with such caveats it was difficult for me to see the RSP as much more than a declared intent to act responsibly, rather than a commitment. But the updated RSP seems to be far worse, even, than that: the “if” is no longer dependent on the outcomes of pre-specified evaluations, but on the personal judgment of Dario Amodei and Jared Kaplan.
Indeed, such red lines are now made more implicit and ambiguous. There are no longer predefined evaluations—instead employees design and run them on the fly, and compile the resulting evidence into a Capability Report, which is sent to the CEO for review. A CEO who, to state the obvious, is hugely incentivized to decide to deploy models, since refraining to do so might jeopardize the company.
This seems strictly worse to me. Some room for flexibility is warranted, but this strikes me as almost maximally flexible, in that practically nothing is predefined—not evaluations, nor safeguards, nor responses to evaluations. This update makes the RSP more subjective, qualitative, and ambiguous. And if Anthropic is going to make the RSP weaker, I wish this were noted more as an apology, or along with a promise to rectify this in the future. Especially because after a year, Anthropic presumably has more information about the risk than before. Why, then, is even more flexibility needed now? What would cause Anthropic to make clear commitments?
I also find it unsettling that the ASL-3 risk threshold has been substantially changed, and the reasoning for this is not explained. In the first RSP, a model was categorized as ASL-3 if it was capable of various precursors for autonomous replication. Now, this has been downgraded to a “checkpoint,” a point at which they promise to evaluate the situation more thoroughly, but don’t commit to taking any particular actions:
We replaced our previous autonomous replication and adaption (ARA) threshold with a “checkpoint” for autonomous AI capabilities. Rather than triggering higher safety standards automatically, reaching this checkpoint will prompt additional evaluation of the model’s capabilities and accelerate our preparation of stronger safeguards.
This strikes me as a big change. The ability to self-replicate is already concerning, but the ability to perform AI R&D seems potentially catastrophic, risking loss of control or extinction. Why does Anthropic now think this shouldn’t count as ASL-3? Why have they substituted this criteria with a substantially riskier one instead?
Dario estimates the probability of something going “really quite catastrophically wrong, on the scale of human civilization” as between 10-25%. He also thinks this might happen soon—perhaps between 2025-2027. It seems obvious to me that a policy this ambiguous, this dependent on figuring things out on the fly, this beset with such egregious conflicts of interest, is a radically insufficient means of managing risk from a technology which poses so grave and imminent a threat to our world.
Basically I just agree with what James said. But I think the steelman is something like: you should expect shorter (or no) pauses with an RSP if all goes well, because the precautions are matched to the risks. Like, the labs aim to develop safety measures which keep pace with the dangers introduced by scaling, and if they succeed at that, then they never have to pause. But even if they fail, they’re also expecting that building frontier models will help them solve alignment faster. I.e., either way the overall pause time would probably be shorter?
It does seem like in order to not have this complaint about the RSP, though, you need to expect that it’s shorter by a lot (like by many months or years). My guess is that the labs do believe this, although not for amazing reasons. Like, the answer which feels most “real” to me is that this complaint doesn’t apply to RSPs because the labs aren’t actually planning to do a meaningful pause.
Does the category “working/interning on AI alignment/control” include safety roles at labs? I’d be curious to see that statistic separately, i.e., the percentage of MATS scholars who went on to work in any role at labs.
Similarly in Baba is You: when people don’t have a crisp understanding of the puzzle, they tend to grasp and straws and motivatedly-reason their way into accepting sketchy sounding premises. But, the true solution to a level often feels very crisp and clear and inevitable.
A few of the scientists I’ve read about have realized their big ideas in moments of insight (e.g., Darwin for natural selection, Einstein for special relativity). My current guess about what’s going on is something like: as you attempt to understand a concept you don’t already have, you’re picking up clues about what the shape of the answer is going to look like (i.e., constraints). Once you have these constraints in place, your mind is searching for something which satisfies all of them (both explicitly and implicitly), and insight is the thing that happens when you find a solution that does.
At least, this is what it feels like for me when I play Baba is You (i.e., when I have the experience you’re describing here). I always know when a fake solution is fake, because it’s really easy to tell that it violates one of the explicit constraints the game has set out (although sometimes in desperation I try it anyway :p). But it’s immediately clear when I’ve landed on the right solution (even before I execute it), because all of the constraints I’ve been holding in my head get satisfied at once. I think that’s the “clicking” feeling.
Darwin’s insight about natural selection was also shaped by constraints. His time on the Beagle had led him to believe that “species gradually become modified,” but he was pretty puzzled as to how the changes were being introduced. If you imagine a beige lizard that lives in the sand, for instance, it seems pretty clear that it isn’t the lizard itself (its will) which causes its beigeness, nor is it the sand that directly causes the coloring (as in, physically causes it within the lizards lifetime). But then, how are changes introduced, if not by the organism, and not by the environment directly? He was stuck on this for awhile, when: “I can remember the very spot in the road, whilst in my carriage, when to my joy the solution occurred to me.”
There’s more going on to Darwin’s story than that, but I do think it has elements of the sort of thing you’re describing here. Jeff Hawkins also describes insight as a constraint satisfaction problem pretty explicitly (I might’ve gotten this idea from him), and he experienced it when coming up with the idea of a thousand brains.
Anyway, I don’t have a strong sense of how crucial this sort of thing is to novel conceptual inquiry in general, but I do think it’s quite interesting. It seems like one of the ways that someone can go from a pre-paradigmatic grasping around for clues sort of thing to a fully formed solution.
I’m somewhat confused about when these evaluations are preformed (i.e., how much safety training the model has undergone). OpenAI’s paper says: “Red teamers had access to various snapshots of the model at different stages of training and mitigation maturity starting in early August through mid-September 2024,” so it seems like this evaluation was probably performed several times. Were these results obtained only prior to safety training or after? The latter seems more concerning to me, so I’m curious.
You actually want evaluators to have as much skin in the game as other employees so that when they take actions that might shut the company down or notably reduce the value of equity, this is a costly signal.
Further, it’s good if evaluators are just considered normal employees and aren’t separated out in any specific way. Then, other employees at the company will consider these evaluators to be part of their tribe and will feel some loyalty. (Also reducing the chance that risk evaluators feel like they are part of rival “AI safety” tribe.) This probably has a variety of benefits in terms of support from the company. For example, when evaluators make a decision with is very costly for the company, it is more likely to respected by other employees.
This situation seems backwards to me. Like, presumably the ideal scenario is that a risk evaluator estimates the risk in an objective way, and then the company takes (hopefully predefined) actions based on that estimate. The outcome of this interaction should not depend on social cues like how loyal they seem, or how personally costly it was for them to communicate that information. To the extent it does, I think this is evidence that the risk management framework is broken.
Thanks for writing this! I think it’s important for AI labs to write and share their strategic thoughts; I appreciate you doing so. I have many disagreements, but I think it’s great that the document is clear enough to disagree with.
You start the post by stating that “Our ability to do our safety work depends in large part on our access to frontier technology,” but you don’t say why. Like, there’s a sense in which much of this plan is predicated on Anthropic needing to stay at the frontier, but this document doesn’t explain why this is the right call to begin with. There are clearly some safety benefits to having access to frontier models, but the question is: are those benefits worth the cost? Given that this is (imo) by far the most important strategic consideration for Anthropic, I’m hoping for far more elaboration here. Why does Anthropic believe it’s important to work on advancing capabilities at all? Why is it worth the potentially world-ending costs?
This section also doesn’t explain why Anthropic needs to advance the frontier. For instance, it isn’t clear to me that anything from “Chapter 1” requires this—does remaining slightly behind the frontier prohibit Anthropic from e.g. developing automated red-teaming, or control techniques, or designing safety cases, etc.? Why? Indeed, as I understand it, Anthropic’s initial safety strategy was to remain behind other labs. Now Anthropic does push the frontier, but as far as I know no one has explained what safety concerns (if any) motivated this shift.
This is especially concerning because pushing the frontier seems very precarious, in the sense you describe here:
If [evaluations are] significantly too strict and trigger a clearly unwarranted pause, we pay a huge cost and threaten our credibility for no substantial upside.
… and here:
As with other aspects of the RSP described above, there are significant costs to both evaluations that trigger too early and evaluations that trigger too late.
But without a clear sense of why advancing the frontier is helpful for safety in the first place, it seems pretty easy to imagine missing this narrow target.
Like, here is a situation I feel worried about. We continue to get low quality evidence about the danger of these systems (e.g. via red-teaming). This evidence is ambiguous and confusing—if a system can in fact do something scary (such as insert a backdoor into another language model), what are we supposed to infer from that? Some employees might think it suggests danger, but others might think that it, e.g., wouldn’t be able to actually execute such plans, or that it’s just a one-off fluke but still too incompetent to pose real threat, etc. How is Anthropic going to think about this? The downside of being wrong is, as you’ve stated, extreme: a long enough pause could kill the company. And the evidence itself is almost inevitably going to be quite ambiguous, because we don’t understand what’s happening inside the model such that it’s producing these outputs.
But so long as we don’t understand enough about these systems to assess their alignment with confidence, I am worried that Anthropic will keep deciding to scale. Because when the evidence is as indirect and unclear as that which is currently possible to gather, interpreting it is basically just a matter of guesswork. And given the huge incentive to keep scaling, I feel skeptical that Anthropic will end up deciding to interpret anything but unequivocal evidence as suggesting enough danger to stop.
This is concerning because Anthropic seems to anticipate such ambiguity, as suggested by the RSP lacking any clear red lines. Ideally, if Anthropic finds that their model is capable of, e.g., self-replication, then this would cause some action like “pause until safety measures are ready.” But in fact what happens is this:
If sufficient measures are not yet implemented, pause training and analyze the level of risk presented by the model. In particular, conduct a thorough analysis to determine whether the evaluation was overly conservative, or whether the model indeed presents near-next-ASL risks.
In other words, one of the first steps Anthropic plans to take if a dangerous evaluation threshold triggers, is to question whether that evaluation was actually meaningful in the first place. I think this sort of wiggle room, which is pervasive throughout the RSP, renders it pretty ineffectual—basically just a formal-sounding description of what they (and other labs) were already doing, which is attempting to crudely eyeball the risk.
And given that the RSP doesn’t bind Anthropic to much of anything, so much of the decision making largely hinges on the quality of its company culture. For instance, here is Nick Joseph’s description:
Fortunately, I think my colleagues, both on the RSP and elsewhere, are both talented and really bought into this, and I think we’ll do a great job on it. But I do think the criticism is valid, and that there is a lot that is left up for interpretation here, and it does rely a lot on people having a good-faith interpretation of how to execute on the RSP internally.
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But I do agree that ultimately you need to have a culture around thinking these things are important and having everyone bought in. As I said, some of these things are like, did you solicit capabilities well enough? That really comes down to a researcher working on this actually trying their best at it. And that is quite core, and I think that will just continue to be.
Which is to say that Anthropic’s RSP doesn’t appear to me to pass the LeCun test. Not only is the interpretation of the evidence left up to Anthropic’s discretion (including retroactively deciding whether a test actually was a red line), but the quality of the safety tests themselves are also a function of company culture (i.e., of whether researchers are “actually trying their best” to “solicit capabilities well enough.”)
I think the LeCun test is a good metric, and I think it’s good to aim for. But when the current RSP is so far from passing it, I’m left wanting to hear more discussion of how you’re expecting it to get there. What do you expect will change in the near future, such that balancing these delicate tradeoffs—too lax vs. too strict, too vague vs. too detailed, etc.—doesn’t result in another scaling policy which also doesn’t constrain Anthropic’s ability to scale roughly at all? What kinds of evidence are you expecting you might encounter, that would actually count as a red line? Once models become quite competent, what sort of evidence will convince you that the model is safe? Aligned? And so on.
I disagree. It would be one thing if Anthropic were advocating for AI to go slower, trying to get op-eds in the New York Times about how disastrous of a situation this was, or actually gaming out and detailing their hopes for how their influence will buy saving the world points if everything does become quite grim, and so on. But they aren’t doing that, and as far as I can tell they basically take all of the same actions as the other labs except with a slight bent towards safety.
Like, I don’t feel at all confident that Anthropic’s credit has exceeded their debit, even on their own consequentialist calculus. They are clearly exacerbating race dynamics, both by pushing the frontier, and by lobbying against regulation. And what they have done to help strikes me as marginal at best and meaningless at worst. E.g., I don’t think an RSP is helpful if we don’t know how to scale safely; we don’t, so I feel like this device is mostly just a glorified description of what was already happening, namely that the labs would use their judgment to decide what was safe. Because when it comes down to it, if an evaluation threshold triggers, the first step is to decide whether that was actually a red-line, based on the opaque and subjective judgment calls of people at Anthropic. But if the meaning of evaluations can be reinterpreted at Anthropic’s whims, then we’re back to just trusting “they seem to have a good safety culture,” and that isn’t a real plan, nor really any different to what was happening before. Which is why I don’t consider Adam’s comment to be a strawman. It really is, at the end of the day, a vibe check.
And I feel pretty sketched out in general by bids to consider their actions relative to other extremely reckless players like OpenAI. Because when we have so little sense of how to build this safely, it’s not like someone can come in and completely change the game. At best they can do small improvements on the margins, but once you’re at that level, it feels kind of like noise to me. Maybe one lab is slightly better than the others, but they’re still careening towards the same end. And at the very least it feels like there is a bit of a missing mood about this, when people are requesting we consider safety plans relatively. I grant Anthropic is better than OpenAI on that axis, but my god, is that really the standard we’re aiming for here? Should we not get to ask “hey, could you please not build machines that might kill everyone, or like, at least show that you’re pretty sure that won’t happen before you do?”
Technical progress also has the advantage of being the sort of thing which could make a superintelligence safe, whereas I expect very little of this to come from institutional competency alone.