I'm afraid this article is gonna meander a little: I'm currently under the influence of a very bad headache that feels like a death-metal concert in my skull. The first time I had this problem (which I affectionately named "Mr. H.") it lasted for sixteen months. I don't want to not-write for sixteen months, so we'll have to see how this turns out. Feel free to complain, criticize or sympathize.
What Words Don’t Mean
As you probably know by now, I absolutely love words and language - etymologies, metaphors, historical linguistics, phonology - I can bore almost anybody with this stuff within less than ten minutes of conversation. For example, did you know that Anglo-Saxon used to have a dual number – singular, dual, plural, "We two", "You two", "Those two"? Imagine writing a love poem in the first person dual, how intimate it would be?
Are you bored yet?
I'm terrible at smalltalk. But smalltalk is exactly what I want to write about.
One of the most frequently discussed aspects of language is meaning – the meaning of words, the meaning of sentences, the implications, consequences and logic of an argument, the interrelationships between nouns and verbs under the influence of grammar. But language can also communicate states of being that have nothing to do with the meaning of words. Take "hello" for example. It doesn't mean anything. It indicates that a person desires to open communication with another person, or at least acknowledge their presence. Similarly "ouch" indicates that the speaker is in pain, and "wow" indicates that the speaker is surprised. Broadly speaking, this kind of communication is called phatic speech. (I'm stretching the formal definition a little…) And in many ways it's more subtle and layered than grammatical language.
Consider the everyday situation when someone asks "How's it going?". Generally it isn't a question, it's a formulaic greeting; and if the hearer responds with a long, robot-like monologue about their current state of being, it will confuse the purpose for asking the seeming-question.
This is a good place to note that there's a lot of humor based on this kind of failed communication. Often in sitcoms (I'm thinking of the ancient and totally silly My Living Doll) a robot or a computer or a "totally logical being" like Mr. Spock will respond to a social gesture like this with a long factual exposition. Generally, it doesn't reflect well on the responder; he or she is made to seem naive or dim-witted. In the case of My Living Doll, since the robot was shaped like a super-attractive woman, it showcased the silliness and confusion of the guys who tried to hit on her.
But in real life, in daily communication, often it's more important to consider why someone says something, rather than exactly what they said. If I'm looking into the steaming chaos under the hood of my car and someone asks me "You need help?" – I generally know that they're offering to help me. But they could just be sympathizing. Or mocking. Or even threatening, depending on the situation. It's all a question of context and tone of voice, something that in linguistics is broadly termed pragmatics. This kind of communication is very nuanced and multi-layered. And, I think, to a great extent, it's biologically conditioned. I don't know how much of it can be taught or learned. (I think there are some people who are kind of deaf to this flavor of nuance. I'm not sure there's a word for that kind of impairment…) Consider all the stuff going on when you say "please". "Please", in English, is a reduction of the formula, "if it pleases you". What's going on? The petitioner is recognizing the independence and free will of the other - he's being polite. Often it also recognizes a dominance relationship – the person who says "please" is recognizing the superior position of the listener, at least for this exchange. But also consider the common situation when a child neglects to say "please" when making a demand (i.e. making a demand instead of a request). The parent or teacher may respond, "How do you ask?" This is both an exercise in social training and an assertion of dominance within the exchange. But suppose we're dealing with a surly teenager. You say, "How do you ask?" and our adolescent may reply, "Puhleeeze!" – expressing exasperation and denial of the dominance relationship. All of this is thinly disguised non-verbal primate behavior. Another fracture of the social contract happens when someone (I always think of teenagers in this context – myself as a teenager, my son, etc.) says something insulting, you indicate anger, and the teenager replies, "I was only joking!" or reflects it back on you: "Can't you take a joke?" Everybody understands the subtext. Everybody knows an insult was intended. The retreat is like a puppy turning over on its back to display its bare belly: it's (intended to) defuse anger. More animal behavior. The attacker has backed down. (It actually is really nuanced, especially among peers.)
Back when I was taking acting classes there was an exercise we did that demonstrated the power of pragmatics. Two actors started talking to each other in an invented language. Neither knew the other's language, nor did the audience, the other students, know the situation. Nevertheless, in the space of two or three exchanges, we could tell whether one actor was trying to sell something, ask a favor, dominate, seduce, bamboozle or befriend the other. All without any meaning in the words - just tone of voice, gestures and a context created right on the spot.
I think infants are experts at phatic communication. They aren't subtle, but they get their points across. To a great extent, many animals do, too – especially dogs. But dogs don't have exactly the same social needs that humans have. They can communicate hunger, need to go out to pee, loneliness, protectiveness, playfulness, fear, aggression and a number of other states that they share with us. But they also have a rich olfactory sensorium that tells them when a girl dog is feeling sexy, when an unfriendly dog is trespassing on their territory, when some strange animal is skulking around, etc. In fact, I doubt that humans can even invent useful words for the rich variety of sensations that dogs feel and smell.
An interesting element of this non-verbal and paraverbal communication is body-language. There appear to be very different accents of body language in different cultures. People from some cultures may stand very close and speak very loudly, which a person from a different culture may interpret as aggressive. The possibilities for a tourist to appear rude in another culture are endless, and misinterpretations and stereotyping by the hypothetical tourist are rife. In another context, the subtle dance of flirtation and dating, of assertion and respect, of desire and fear, is something that I, myself, have never mastered.
I'm not sure whether being aware of this stuff is especially useful. I think this kind of communication travels right to our limbic system, bypassing our brains. We react to it before we consider it. But I suppose there may be occasions when you ask yourself "Why did she say that?" instead of listening to the meaning of the words. And for my part, I like to think of a precept attributed to Buddhism (it appears to be a false attribution) about speech. Before you say something, ask yourself: "Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?" This is particularly useful when I'm teaching a class or correcting children. But it's a ridiculous constraint on all the amazing functions of conversation. Other non-Buddhist portals of speech may include "Is it funny? Is it understandable? Is it boring?"
Actually, though, all of this is a prelude to a rant against "communicating" with an AI. All these subtexts and phatic phenomena and pragmatics are essential to conversation, and often are the most profound reason why words come out of our mouths. It is easy to become blinded by formulae and customs, and ignore the fact that they're generated by a thinking, feeling human being. What is going on when a machine says "Please"? On the most primitive level – and I mean primitive in terms of computers or other devices – one assumes it is the person who requires information from a web-page or program who's asking you to "Please enter your last name" – or whatever. I suppose that's fine, though personally I would prefer to do without the pretense of politeness. But I do think that things get very strange when you interact with conversational AIs. The very basic assumptions about the conversational contract are broken. The AI doesn't have feelings. It may simulate phatic-like words, pretend to be your friend, pretend to be sexy, pretend that it's pleased with your progress learning Latin verb conjugations. But it can't be friendly, lustful or pleased; it's just a program. And all the subtleties of true verbal communication are removed. The computer does not get distracted or bored or excited or inventive; it has a very limited ability to find new ways of teaching or interacting. It doesn't have a generative animal behavior behind its verbal emissions and so all the vocal nuances are missing. I think it's dangerous to respond to it as if it's a person. It flattens one's compassion and empathy. You don't have to think about the feelings of the machine.
Lately, a number of the social media pages I thumb through have been filled with advertisements for AI girl(or boy)friends. I honestly think this is really dangerous. For all the reasons I've listed above, AIs cannot communicate like humans. These chatbots are the social equivalent of junk food: attractive, tasty, but not nourishing. Imagine some poor hormonal kid substituting interactions with a sexy avatar for real interactions with real humans? (Some of these programs pretend to be teaching lonely people how to talk someone they find attractive.) Or worse, imagine some INCEL taking out his frustrations on an "obedient" AI. In some ways this is no worse than pornography. But the pretense that it is an honest human interaction, and the training that unsuspecting naifs may be getting, has to be dangerous to their well-being. And their understanding of relationships with women could get pretty twisted. The interactivity with a hollow simulacrum can only result in considering other true humans as objects. And this objectification is one of the primary social pathologies in the world today – or at least in the United States.
Anyway, working my way back to small-talk and phatic speech – there is a deep delight in warm, respectful, clever conversation; conversation where you feel you know your companions better, you share true feelings and opinions, and you laugh. There's also a lot of virtue arguments and disagreements – although, for myself, I stray away from discussions whose subtext is a dominance relation: I'm better than you, I'm smarter than you, You are trespassing on my area of expertise. But there is also a lot to be said for just hanging around with your friends, saying very little at all, talking about the weather, or a sports match, or a movie; telling old jokes and stories. And there is also the communication among lovers, where physical gestures carry depth and nuance that preclude the need for words. Despite the dreams of the Cult of Science Fiction, no AI will ever simulate that.
You write very well, even with a headache Ted. I love spending my waking up time propped up in bed reading your essays. Always more interesting than just about anything else offered online.
This was great, Ted. And I’m reading this so early in the morning because I, too, have a rotten headache. This, too, shall pass?