Full Width 
Shortcuts 
Sign Up 
Log In 
Articles 
Reading List 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
TLDR: yes, models are getting funnier over time I love laughing. Well, who doesn’t? Good jokes have a certain notion of cleverness to them and I do believe that great comedians display high intelligence. Cracking a good joke requires astute observations about odd situations, and linking them to something we find familiar. Jokes are hard!… Read More The post How funny are the frontier AI models? appeared first on Inverted Passion.
The biggest empire the world has ever seen was run by a small elite who partied all night, drank liters of port, and stayed in bed until the afternoon.
Turbulence is all around us: bumping our planes, roiling our rivers, swirling milk into our coffee. These systems quickly become extremely chaotic and complex. On this episode of The Quanta Podcast, host Samir Patel speaks with contributing writer Stephen Ornes about a recent study that used sea monkeys to complicate one of turbulence’s many mysteries. This topic was covered in a recent story for Quanta Magazine. Each week on The Quanta Podcast, hear the people behind the award-winning publication navigate through some of the most important and mind-expanding questions in science and math.
One reason it's been so hard to directly detect the dark matter is that we're not sure what it is. […]
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.
