Before committing all future posts to the coming revolution, or abandoning the blog altogether to beseech good favor from our AI overlords atthe AI church, perhaps we should ask, why are today’s headlines, startups and even academic institutions suddenly all embracing the term artificial intelligence (AI)?
In this blog post, I hope to prod all stakeholders (researchers, entrepreneurs, venture capitalists, journalists, think-fluencers, and casual observers alike) to ask the following questions:
What substantive transformation does this switch in the nomenclature from machine learning (ML) to artificial intelligence (AI) signal?
If the research hasn’t categorically changed, then why are we rebranding it?
What are the dangers, to both scholarship and society, of mindlessly shifting the way we talk about research to maximize buzz?
Within hours, I received multiple emails. Parents, friends, old classmates, my girlfriend all sent emails. Did you see the article? Maybe they wanted me to know what riches a life in private industry had in store for me? Perhaps they were curious if I was already bathing in Cristal, shopping for yachts, or planning to purchase an atoll among the Maldives? Perhaps the communist sympathizers in my social circles had renewed admiration for my abstention from such extreme opulence.
In 2014, Szegedy et al. published an ICLR paper with a surprising discovery: modern deep neural networks trained for image classification exhibit the following vulnerability: by making only slight alterations to an input image, it’s possible to drastically fool a model that would otherwise classify the image correctly (say, as a dog), into outputting a completely wrong label (say, as a banana). Moreover, this attack is possible even with perturbations that are so tiny that a human couldn’t distinguish the altered image from the original.
These doctored images are called adversarial examples and the study of how to make neural networks robust to these attacks is an increasingly active area of machine learning research.
It’s January 28th and I should be working on my paper submissions. So should you! But why write when we can meta-write? ICML deadlines loom only twelve days away. And KDD follows shortly after. The schedule hardly lets up there, with ACL, COLT, ECML, UAI, and NIPS all approaching before the summer break. Thousands of papers will be submitted to each.
The tremendous surge of interest in machine learning along with ML’s democratization due to open source software, YouTube coursework, and the availability of preprint articles are all exciting happenings. But every rose has a thorn. Of the thousands of papers that hit the arXiv in the coming month, many will be unreadable. Poor writing will damn some to rejection while others will fail to reach their potential impact. Even among accepted and influential papers, careless writing will sow confusion and damn some papers to later criticism for sloppy scholarship (you better hope Ali Rahimi and Ben Recht don’t win another test of time award!).
But wait, there’s hope! Your technical writing doesn’t have to stink. Over the course of my academic career, I’ve formed strong opinions about how to write a paper (as with all opinions, you may disagree). While one-liners can be trite, I learned early in my PhD from Charles Elkan that many important heuristics for scientific paper writing can be summed up in snappy maxims. These days, as I work with younger students, teaching them how to write clear scientific prose, I find myself repeating these one-liners, and occasionally inventing new ones.
The following list consists of easy-to-memorize dictates, each with a short explanation. Some address language, some address positioning, and others address aesthetics. Most are just heuristics so take each with a grain of salt, especially when they come into conflict. But if you’re going to violate one of them, have a good reason. This can be a living document, if you have some gems, please leave a comment.
[This article is also cross-posted to the Deep Safety blog.]
Something I oftenhear in the machine learning community and media articles is “Worries about superintelligence are a distraction from the *real* problem X that we are facing today with AI” (where X = algorithmic bias, technological unemployment, interpretability, data privacy, etc). This competitive attitude gives the impression that immediate and longer-term safety concerns are in conflict. But is there actually a tradeoff between them?
We can make this question more specific: what resources might these two types of issues be competing for?
[This article originally appeared on the Deep Safety blog.]
This year’s NIPS gave me a general sense that near-term AI safety is now mainstream and long-term safety is slowly going mainstream. On the near-term side, I particularly enjoyed Kate Crawford’s keynote on neglected problems in AI fairness, the ML security workshops, and the Interpretable ML symposium debate that addressed the “do we even need interpretability?” question in a somewhat sloppy but entertaining way. There was a lot of great content on the long-term side, including several oral / spotlight presentations and the Aligned AI workshop.
On the BBC’s anthology series Black Mirror, each episode explores a near-future dystopia. In each episode, a small extrapolation from current technological trends leads us into a terrifying future. The series should conjure modern-day Cassandras like Cathy O’Neil, who has made a second career out of exhorting caution against algorithmic decision-making run amok. In particular, she warns that algorithmic decision-making systems, if implemented carelessly, might increase inequality, twist incentives, and perpetrate undesirable feedback loops. For example, a predictive policing system might direct aggressive policing in poor neighborhoods, drive up arrests, depress employment, orphan children, and lead, ultimately, to more crime.
Consider a little science experiment we’ve all done, to find out if a switch controls a light. How many data points does it usually take to convince you? Not many! Even if you didn’t do a randomized trial yourself, and observed somebody else manipulating the switch you’d figure it out pretty quickly. This type of science is easy!
One thing that makes this easy is that you already know the right level of abstraction for the problem: what a switch is, and what a bulb is. You also have some prior knowledge, e.g. that switches typically have two states, and that it often controls things like lights. What if the data you had was actually a million variables, representing the state of every atom in the switch, or in the room?
In a shocking tweet, organizers of the 35th International Conference on Machine Learning (ICML 2018) announced today, through an official Twitter account, that this year’s conference has sold out. The announcement came as a surprise owing to the timing. Slated to occur in July, 2018, the conference has historically been attended by professors and graduate student authors, who attend primarily to present their research to audience of peers. With the submission deadline set for February 9th and registrations already closed, it remains unclear if and how authors of accepted papers might attend.
In July of this year, NYU Professor of Psychology Gary Marcus argued in the New York Times that AI is stuck, failing to progress towards a more general, human-like intelligence. To liberate AI from it’s current stuckness, he proposed a big science initiative. Covetously referencing the thousands of bodies (employed at) and billions of dollars (lavished on) CERN, he wondered whether we ought to launch a concerted international AI mission.
Perhaps owing to my New York upbringing, I admire Gary’s contrarian instincts. With the press pouring forth a fine slurry of real and imagined progress in machine learning, celebrating any story about AI as a major breakthrough, it’s hard to state the value of a relentless critical voice reminding the community of our remaining shortcomings.
But despite the seductive flash of big science and Gary’s irresistible chutzpah, I don’t buy this particular recommendation. Billion-dollar price tags and frightening head counts are bugs, not features. Big science requires getting those thousands of heads to agree about what questions are worth asking. A useful heuristic that applies here:
The larger an organization, the simpler its elevator pitch needs to be.
Machine learning research doesn’t yet have an agreed-upon elevator pitch. And trying to coerce one prematurely seems like a waste of resources. Dissent and diversity of viewpoints are valuable. Big science mandates overbearing bureaucracy and some amount of groupthink, and sometimes that’s necessary. If, as in physics, an entire field already agrees about what experiments come next and these happen to be thousand-man jobs costing billions of dollars, then so be it