I just had a long talk with ChatGPT. I told it I was going to conduct the Turing Test on it, and even though it knew exactly what the Test was (it obviously did its homework) it had a terrible time “pretending” to fool me, to pretend I didn’t know it was an AI. It felt compelled to remind me, over and over again.
Halfway through the exchange, I realized I was talking with a crazy person. The individual was lucid, articulate, well informed, convincing, but only on a granular level. The higher level function was missing. There was no overall function or logic to it. The overall conversation was meaningless, even though some of its parts seemed cogent, even clever. I realized it was like talking to my friend Roger, who is lapsing into dementia. I recognize the voice, even the phrasing and the logic, but he’s not there.
It was a terrifying glimpse into the abyss. I can only hope that Roger doesn’t realize it, that at some deep level he does not know what is happening to his mind.
What a horror. It is a very lonely place. I love my friend. I can’t tell you how depressed I am about it. And there is nothing I can do about it. There are some things crueler than death.