The plain red brick exterior of the Institute for Applied Ethics, hosted by George Washington University, belied the importance of the work that went on inside.
At the door, humans and robots stood guard. Leon felt the AI query his neural implant for ID, and authorized the request.
“Good morning, Leon,” a human guard said, holding out his hand.
“Morning, Henry. How’s the Mrs.?” Leon offered his bag to Henry.
“Oh, she’s fine.” He leaned in close and continued in a low voice. “She’s off to visit her sister for a week.” He straightened up with a wink and placed Leon’s bag inside the security scanner, waited a few seconds and handed it back. “You have a nice day, Leon.”
“You too, Henry.”
Ritual complete, Leon took the marble steps at a fast clip. At the second floor, he pressed his hand to the biometrics reader, which checked his palm print against a database before unlocking the door.
Leon entered and paused, as he did every morning, to survey the vast open space. Divided into pods, the Institute’s scientists collaborated with each other or gestured vaguely into the air, communing with artificial intelligences, their computers, or the network. The same view greeted him every morning, but it never failed to bring a smile to his face.
Leon headed for his shared office on the far side. People noticed his presence, a few visually, but most via proximity alerts. Some nodded or called out, “Good morning.” But most sent greetings by implant: speech bubbles superimposed over his vision that floated in from the direction of the sender, then slowly moved off into his notifications bar. With a thought, he replied-all “Cheerio!” and entered his office.
AI-designed neural implants had been widely available for eight years. They connected people to the net, serving as computer, smartphone, and display all in one. A square centimeter of surgically implanted graphene-based computer chip, they stimulated neurons inside the brain, making text and graphics appear directly in one’s vision.
Inside his office, late-arriving greetings piled up in the corner of his vision. When he glanced toward the door, they jiggled for his attention. With a thought, he trashed them and sent a last “Morning all,” then set his status to “Working” to stop the distractions.
“Good morning,” he called to Mike, and went to get coffee. A small bot scurried out and met him halfway, a cup already prepared. “Thanks,” he said absently, and the bot chirped before disappearing into the wall. Mike hadn’t answered. Leon glanced up: Mike’s status showed he was on a call. Leon sat and sipped coffee, feet on his desk, waiting for Mike.
Mike’s status dissipated with an audible popping sound a minute later. He focused on the room, and smiled at Leon. “Morning. Sorry.”
“No problem,” Leon said. “We have guests today.”
“Who?” Without waiting for Leon to answer, Mike pulled up the schedule in netspace. “Von Neumann Cup winners?”
“Yeah, the hundred greatest math and science team competitors at the high school level. Our regular dog and pony show.”
Coffees in hand, they headed downstairs to the auditorium. Students streamed in through the main doors, teachers shepherding them into seats.
Bypassing the room itself, Leon and Mike entered via the backstage, shaking hands with Rebecca Smith. The former President of the United States, she had served her two terms, and then offered to chair the Institute she’d created by presidential order. The Institute was the governing body for all artificial intelligence. With AI driving eighty percent of the global economy, the Institute was one of the most influential organizations in the world.
“Ready to wow some kids?” Rebecca asked. Her tight face belied the light tone in her voice.
“Sure,” Mike said. “What’s up?” He’d known Rebecca for twenty years, and knew all her moods.
“Budget issues. Charter problems.” She shook her head. “The damn People’s Party is hammering us in Congress.”
“I thought the People’s Party were a fringe movement of anti-AI extremists,” Leon said.
“They are,” Rebecca barked.
Leon unconsciously took a half step back.
“Or, they were. They’ve gained real influence in Congress. Senator Watson is acquiring more supporters by the day.” She held up one hand. “Look, it’s my problem. I’ll take care of it.”
In the midst of this, Rebecca’s assistant stepped out on the stage, and waited for the murmuring to die down. “Welcome everyone. Please allow me to introduce our Executive Director and Chair, President Rebecca Smith.”
Rebecca walked out to a standing ovation, while Mike and Leon waited on the side stage.
“Good morning, everyone. Welcome to the Institute for Applied Ethics. You are the elite, winners of national and international competitions, and exceptional thinkers. Here at the Institute, we have many winners from previous years.”
At sixty-five, the former President was as sharp as she’d ever been — a dynamic speaker and leader. Leon had never seen her in anything but perfectly tailored business suits and sculpted hair. She could be warm and personable in a small group, and damn scary when she was angry. If she was worried about this new political party, then it must be serious.
“We hire only the finest,” Rebecca said, finishing up her introduction. “To tell you more about what we do are Managing Director Mike Williams, and Director of Architecture Leon Tsarev.”
“Thank you, President Smith,” Mike said, approaching the podium. He shook Rebecca’s hand, and she walked off stage. He grabbed the podium and looked into the crowd.
“During the last ten years, we’ve had an explosion of technological progress, a rate of innovation which makes the last hundred years paltry by comparison. From nanotechnology to robotics to AI, this progress has come because we’ve reached the point of the technological singularity: AI are faster thinkers, more accurate at predicting the future, and more creative in the generation of new ideas. Their intelligence continues to grow exponentially.” Mike paused for a sip of water.
“This is only possible when AI behave ethically and adhere to human values. Without an ethical framework, super-intelligent AI would replace humankind as the dominant species, possibly exterminating us.” He paused for emphasis.
“Today I’ll discuss peer reputation, the foundation of that framework. By rating each other on contribution, trustworthiness, and other desirable attributes, we guide the behavior of both humans and AI. Then I’ll turn it over to Leon to explain how it’s implemented and enforced. Peer reputation gives us the world we have today: safe and ethical behavior by AI and humans, balancing free will and societal well-being.”
Mike paused. “Before I get started, are there any unimplanted people in the audience? If you need me to use the screen, raise your hand.” Mike waited, but no hands went up.
Mike displayed the first diagram in netspace, where it floated virtually above his head. “Let me start with the AI war of 2025. You will remember this as the Year of No Internet.”
4
Catherine descended the stairs to the waft of fresh popcorn. She met Maggie and stole a handful. Since Tom had read about the idea a few months ago, movie-watching had become their weekly ritual.
“Good,” Sarah called from the couch. “No, back to what you did before.” The picture cycled through primary colors. “No, no! Worse.”
“Damn this thing,” Tom called from behind the ancient LCD, where he fiddled with the connection to an even older DVD player.
“You traded pot to get that piece of junk,” Maggie said. “What do you expect?”