More from Long Now
The ocean is not empty. It is a vast storage facility of memory agents. Ocean bodies use the chemical signatures of seawater for memory and intelligence in ways we can barely imagine. In her Talk, Melody Jue said our struggle to understand ocean memory comes from our terrestrial bias. This bias shapes what we try to protect and the technologies we develop. We must, she said, “deterritorialize the sensorium.” For example, the vertical depths of the Pacific carry thermal signatures of ancient ice ages. Arctic glaciers are laced with matrices of microbes retaining genes from before the Great Oxidation Event. Whale songs are also memory agents, passed down through generations, preserving the cultural histories of the planet's largest creatures. Corals hold memory, too. Those exposed earlier to changing ocean pH are more resilient to acidification. Meanwhile, human cultural memory is in danger of disappearing alongside these ecosystems. Jue pointed to Indigenous and traditional environmental knowledge at risk, like the Ama divers’ fishing tradition, as abalone populations drop. To better translate the ocean sensorium, Jue worked with interdisciplinary artists, musicians, divers, and researchers to develop soundscapes that help us “smell” with our ears, remapping chemosensation through synesthesia. Don’t miss the moment in the Talk where she plays two original music pieces that use the density and flow of sound to mimic chemical gradients of seawater. “The ocean teaches us humility,” Jue concluded. “It makes us confront our preconceptions about the planet and sensation.”
What if the solutions to humanity’s greatest challenges — on Earth and beyond — have already been invented by nature? In this forward-looking talk, evolutionary biologist and astrobiologist Dr. Lynn Rothschild explores how life’s patterns, materials, and mechanisms, refined over billions of years, can serve as a blueprint for building better futures on Earth and other planets. Drawing on insights from deep time, Dr. Rothschild will open the doors to “nature’s hardware store” — a vast, largely untapped reservoir of biological strategies available to scientists, engineers, and innovators. From self-healing materials and bio-inspired architecture to regenerative systems for space exploration, she reveals how biology is shaping the frontiers of technology and inspiring bold, surprisingly practical solutions to complex problems. Grounded in astrobiology and evolutionary insight, this talk invites us to rethink innovation through the lens of life itself and to explore what’s possible when we tap into nature’s storehouse of intelligence to solve the challenges of tomorrow. Lynn J. Rothschild is a research scientist at NASA Ames and Adjunct Professor at Brown University and Stanford University working in astrobiology, evolutionary biology and synthetic biology. Rothschild's work focuses on the origin and evolution of life on Earth and in space, and in pioneering the use of synthetic biology to enable space exploration. From 2011 through 2019 Rothschild served as the faculty advisor of the award-winning Stanford-Brown iGEM (international Genetically Engineered Machine Competition) team, exploring innovative technologies such as biomining, mycotecture, BioWires, making a biodegradable UAS (drone) and an astropharmacy. Rothschild is a past-president of the Society of Protozoologists, fellow of the Linnean Society of London, The California Academy of Sciences and the Explorer’s Club and lectures and speaks about her work widely.
Blaise Agüera y Arcas’s talk took us on a journey through What is Intelligence?, his groundbreaking new work connecting the evolutionary dots between life, computation, and symbiogenesis. He explores how, in our symbiotic world, things combine to make larger things all the time. We might think of humanity in terms of the individual — but we're already part of everything we're creating, which is in turn co-creating us. In the story of technology and humanity, are we distinct from the technologies that we make? Agüera y Arcas' cuts through the essentialist dogma with a functionalist view: Biological computing — computation through DNA, RNA, and proteins — is not a strange outcropping of life but its very nature. Blaise Agüera y Arcas is a VP and Fellow at Google, where he is the CTO of Technology & Society and founder of Paradigms of Intelligence (Pi). Pi is an organization working on basic research in AI and related fields, especially the foundations of neural computing, active inference, sociality, evolution, and artificial life. During his tenure at Google, Blaise has innovated on-device machine learning for Android and Pixel; invented Federated Learning, an approach to decentralized model training that avoids sharing private data; and founded the Artists + Machine Intelligence program.
What if AI is not here actually to replace us, but to remind us who we actually are? That was the question at the heart of Kim Carson’s Long Now Talk. In _Inspired by Intelligence: Purpose and Creativity in the AI Era_, Carson challenged us to avoid the easy narratives of tech-driven utopia and dystopia, charting a course through those two extremes that made the case for AI not as a way to make humans unnecessary but to emphasize our most important creative capacities. In her talk, Carson drew on her experience working in AI at organizations like IBM, where she helped lead Watson Education, which helped connect educators in underserved communities to AI technology, in the name of facing down some of the wickedest problems in society. But she also drew on her own more personal engagement with AI, discussing at length the nuances of how she uses personalized versions of generative pre-trained transformers as collaborators and enablers for creativity. For Carson, AI is a sort of tool for thought — a mirror that we can use to re-inspire ourselves towards greater creativity. Accompanied by video art made using the SORA text-to-video model by Charles Lindsay, she made the case that AI could be used not just for automating labor but also for reclaiming human agency. That means using these new technological modes as enablers for human thought and action, while recognizing their gaps, too — the questions about ourselves that only we can answer, no matter how sophisticated our technology becomes. Throughout her talk, Carson expounded upon the power of vulnerability. The ability to use AI tools to help us reconnect with ourselves, to jar us into seeing our own identities and creative capacities in new lights, is one that will fundamentally help us change our world. In Carson’s view, vulnerability and creativity are the necessary precursors to any sort of technological innovation. As she ended her remarks, Kim made one final note on how we can make a better world collaboratively and creatively: our society does not need “more optimization, it needs more imagination.”
We find ourselves in a pre-paradigmatic moment in which our technology has outpaced our theories of what to do with it. The task of philosophy today is to catch up. In his Long Now Talk, Philosopher of Technology Benjamin Bratton took us on a whirlwind philosophical journey into the concept of Planetary Computation — a journey that began in classical Greece with the story of the Antikythera mechanism, the analog computer that gave his think-tank Antikythera its name. But his inquiry stretched far beyond antiquity — back to the very origins of biological life itself and forward to a present and future where we must increasingly grapple with artificial life and intelligence on a planetary scale in time and space. How might complex planetary intelligence thrive over the long now? To Bratton, that intelligence is a “emergent phenomenon of an ancient and deep biogeochemical flux” — not merely resident to the Earth but an outcropping from it. Our planet has evolved us, and we have in turn evolved a stack of technologies that can help us understand and govern that very same planet that produced us. The preconditions for long-term adaptiveness, Bratton argues, will need to be artificially realized, and we won’t be able to control what happens as a result of bringing them into existence. This, Bratton says, is the Copernican trauma of our time. In concluding his remarks, Bratton turns to James Lovelock, the pioneering environmental scientist who first proposed the Gaia Hypothesis. Referencing Lovelock’s final book, Novacene: The Coming Age of Hyperintelligence (02019), Bratton notes that for both Lovelock and himself the potential coming of post-human intelligence was not cause for “grief.” Instead, the frame of the planetary makes it so that finding ourselves in a grander story where “the evolution of intelligence does not peak with one terraforming species of nomadic primates,” is, to Bratton, “the happiest news possible.”
More in science
Back in the ancient mists of time, scientists and mathematicians would circulate preprints of their articles among friends and colleagues via the postal service, as a courtesy, to get feedback and to try to make sure people in the community were aware of their forthcoming work. As the wikipedia entry says, with the advent of widespread LaTeX and the development of the web, Paul Ginsparg (then at LANL) put together an html-based site for electronic sharing of preprints, initially at xxx.lanl.gov (back before "xxx" in URLs was the kind of thing filtered and blocked by employers). In 2001 he moved to Cornell, and by then the lab was perhaps relieved to see the site, rebranded as the arXiv, shift to Cornell's library/repository infrastructure. PIs my age remember (fondly? maybe?) the old days of the arXiv, when Prof. Ginsparg's rather dry sense of humor pervaded the site. The skull-and-crossbones logo. The "help"/FAQ pages that basically said, "if you can't figure out how to .tar.gz all of your necessary LaTeX files, and you can't figure out how to make your .eps figures small, maybe you should reconsider whether you're smart enough to be sharing your ideas here". The arXiv was for preprints, without peer review (though interesting follow-on sites like Scirate now exist for organized commenting on the articles). From these modest beginnings, the arXiv has grown enormously, including imitators/spin-offs such as chemrxiv and biorXiv and socarXiv. The arXiv has recently become an independent nonprofit, hired a CEO, secured multiyear philanthropic support, and hosts over 3 million articles. It's been interesting seeing some level of complaints online about some of these steps, but when the audience is so large, not everyone is going to be happy. Rapid growth has been a major issue - see here for a graph of monthly submissions: The exponential rise (except for a slight pandemic-correlated shoulder) has been problematic, especially recently. One hallmark of the arXiv over the years has been its ability to function with comparatively minimal need for "moderation". Early on, one consequence of the minimalistic help and moderate technical entry barrier was that it was unusual for fringe/pseudoscience to make its way onto the server. (Hence the establishment of viXra.) With the ease of cranking out properly formatted readable manuscripts using AI, clearly the arXiv has been struggling. If 10-15% of submissions need some kind of human intervention or review, the support needs are rapidly outpacing the limited count of support staff. There can be substantial backlogs. To help deal with this, the arXiv recently updated its policies regarding AI-generated content (and AI cannot be a co-author, because the AI tools cannot take responsibility for content), and most recently has had to limit submission rates to two papers per month per submitting author. These moves, too, have drawn some criticism (e.g. here). Personally, I think the operators of the arXiv face an incredibly challenging environment and are doing the best they can - the idea that they are making moves because they are establishment sticks in the mud who don't understand the New Way of Doing Science is just wrong-headed. It's completely unclear where all this is heading. Exponential growth in nature signals instability and does not continue forever. If proponents of very heavily AI-driven research want to establish a repository specifically for that work, that's up to them. [It is very on brand for the hard core AI advocates to argue that the arXiv is somehow morally obligated to host everything (regardless of hardware or personnel costs) so that future AI tools can read everything (a repository growing too quickly for human researchers to keep up) and summarize it.] One overarching point that should come up in any arXiv discussion: The arXiv has become a global repository for an enormous amount of human knowledge, without charging anyone publication fees. This should make interested parties think reallllllly hard about economic models of for-profit publishers.
Is philosophy real? We sent our correspondent to find out.
Stephen J Gould (still my favorite science essayist) wrote an excellent article in 1985 (Red Wings in the Sunset, later published in his book, Bully for Brontosaurus) about artist and naturalist Abbott Handerson Thayer. Thayer wrote about how animals use coloration as camouflage – what he called “cryptic coloration”. His ideas were solid, but he made a classic mistake that scientists sometimes make, overapplying their key discovery. Thayer argued that all animal coloration is cryptic. For example, he argued that flamingos are pink because it hides them in the setting sun (hence the title of the essay). This is a transparently absurd argument, and it shows how Thayer tried to shoehorn all evidence into his preferred and absolute narrative. It is better to assume that nature is complex, and all explanations are at best partial (unless proven otherwise). Animal coloration, in fact, can serve many different purposes, only one of which is camouflage. Thayer also struggled with the male peacock, for example. Butterflies appear to be another example. Actually, many butterflies are camouflaged on the underside of their wings, so that when they are at rest with their wings up they tend to blend into their surroundings. But the top side of their wings are often very colorful and not camouflaged at all. One assumption is that the brightly colored part of their wings is to attract mates. This may be true, but that does not mean the coloration does not serve another function. Often animals use visual cues when choosing their mates that are markers for health and success. As evidence that butterfly wing color may be serving a survival benefit, if you look at birds that feed on insects during flight, they target dully-colored moths much more than brightly colored butterflies, even though the butterflies should be easier to see. A recent study tests the hypothesis that the brightly colored and patterned top side of butterfly wings may have evolved to produce an optical illusion to confuse predators. The idea of using optical illusions as visual protection in animals is not new. For example, zebra stripes allow zebras to hide in the herd, confusing predators as to where one zebra ends and another begins. Stripes on zebras and snakes may also serve to confuses predators about their direction of motion, but this hypothesis has not been tested previously. The researchers started by filming butterflies taking off using high speed cameras. They found that the wing patterns created a powerful “barber pole” illusion. The stripes on a barber pole look like they are moving up or town even when the pole is just spinning. Similarly, the wing patterns combined with the way butterflies move their wings and their flight dynamics combine to create a similar barber pole illusion, making the butterfly look like it is moving down when it is in fact moving up. They also showed that this strategy is phylogenetically widespread. They then did modeling in silico and showed digital creatures converge on butterfly-like patterns. To understand how effective this strategy can be it’s important to understand how catching a butterfly in midflight works. Butterflies have a very jumpy pattern of flight. In order to grab them in flight, a bird will have to zero in on their exact location with a few hundred millisecond and millimeter precision. If the butterfly suddenly zigs while the bird perceives that they zagged, the birdy will miss. Alternatively they may make only a glancing blow or grab an edge of a wing rather than their body. Either way, the butterfly lives another day and the bird goes hungry. In zebras this effect has been referred to as the “visual dazzle” strategy. Now there is some empiric evidence that this works not just by confusing predators, but by creating a specific optical illusion. Zebras will also zig-zag to evade predators, and misjudging that last second movement can cause a pouncing lioness to miss. There are two specific illusion effects at work – the aperture effect and spatiotemporal aliasing. The aperture effect refers to the brain’s processing of visual information through a limited field of view. The visual system has a hard time processing many moving stripes, and specifically will confuse the direction of movement (this is the barber pole effect). So a predator may miss a zebra’s vertical movement, for example, and perceive all movement as perpendicular to the stripes. They may also misinterpret the angle of movement and only perceive the perpendicular motion. Spatiotemporal aliasing has to do with ratio of the movement with the “refresh” speed of the brain’s visual processing. You have likely seen this with spinning wheels that have spoke-like features. As the wheel slows down, at one point the spinning will appear to stop completely, and then will appear to spin backwards. This is simply an artifact of your brain’s visual processing speed. Now imagine being surrounded by a field of rapidly moving and zig-zagging stripes, and your brain trying to make sense of all this information, while trying to compensate for these powerful optical illusions. Butterflies don’t have a herd to hide in, but they do have the added element of their flapping wings. Not only are they moving in a way to maximize these optical illusions, their wings are also doing this, while alternating top-side and bottom-side. Some butterflies have bright spots on their colorful upper wings, that will flash as they flap their wings, causing another type of dazzling disorientation. I will end by returning to my original point – do not be limited in the types of explanations that you reach for when trying to understand nature. Nature is not so limited. Animals do not just use coloration for camouflage and attracting mates. They can also use their coloring for thermoregulation, for mimicking other animals, for producing a danger-signal to would-be predators, and to communicate with other members of their species. It can communicate mood, danger, or social status. Now we have to add optical illusions to the list. There may be other strategies yet to be discovered or imagined. The post Butterflies Are Masters of Illusion first appeared on NeuroLogica Blog.