Chapter 11 - Prospero
"Good morning students."
"Last tutorial someone suggested that we talk about The Cloud. Rumour has it that I might know something about this."
There was a sound of cautious amusement. It was well known that Edmund had once worked with Robert McLeish.
"Well it's true that Robert McLeish is my wife's grandfather. But I don't know that this automatically makes me an expert. So I've posted a magazine article on your screens that describes Prospero in nontechnical terms. Prospero is the language invented by Robert that is the basis of modern Cloud Computing."
"I suggest that we all take a few minutes to review it and then we can discuss it as a group."
Prospero - the magic behind The Cloud'Prospero' is the computer language in which most of The Cloud operating system is written. The name Prospero comes from the wizard in Shakespeare's play: The Tempest and its author, Robert McLeish will turn ninety this year. In his youth Robert was hailed as a wunderkind. And his invention 'Prospero' was hailed as a paradigm leap in computer coding, from previous Web foundation codes such as C, Java, and PHP. Prospero takes advantage of advances in quantum computing to create Continuously Evolving Dynamically Linked Libraries or .dll files. Evolution is by survival of the fittest, based on a continuously changing environment. It sounds complex but DLLs are really just libraries of often used routines. When Robert had his breakthrough, these were written entirely by a human coder in C then translated or 'compiled' by an application into detailed machine instructions that tell the relevant processors what to do step-by-step. Simple examples might be to: multiply two numbers; create a window or page on a screen; or sort the contents of a database in some required order, say alphabetically or numerically. Early in the century DLL's were already evolving frequently under human hands and computer and phone users were assailed with never ending 'live updates' to improve performance or add functionality. In addition, users could also choose from a vast array of applications or 'Apps' that also needed frequent updating. A CE (continuously evolving) DLL 'organically' rewrites the machine instructions of various routines in its library to optimise performance, in any machine environment, by testing randomised mutations to see which is the best survivor. No human hand is involved. Although millions of alternatives might be tried and fail before a fitter version is found, the speed of modern processors makes this process blindingly fast. This 'dynamic interpretation' allows the original coding instructions become less strict. Thus, the instructions can now be in any natural language. New Apps based on dynamically evolving executable code flourish in the new environment as they become clients to the underlying library structure. Thus, the boundaries between the traditional computing layers becomes blurred, mutually dependent and organic. Hence the term 'Organic Computing'. Through its rapidly evolving, and effectively instantly responsive, machine instruction capabilities, Prospero ties together an unlimited number of physical servers. It learns from experience, writing and rewriting its own routines to accommodate technical and software advances and evolves its own 'interpreters' so that it can 'talk' across platforms, even when apparently incompatible, and previously unfamiliar, protocols are in use. It may even find a ways to understand complexities obscure to the human comprehension and to 'talk with' complex non-human biological systems; to technically faulty equipment; and to electronic devices that have no processor at all. Effectively, every application hosted in The Cloud is now interpreted and rewritten in Prospero, because it can accommodate any traditional programming language and understand any natural human language, even when grammatically faulty. For example, it has no difficulty correctly interpreting: "How many 'Smiths' are at the football game"; or "Me n Mary want-a went to thy beach". As we all know, The Cloud is perfectly happy to assist any user, provided the rules relating to privacy; commercial-in-confidence; and the International Law are not broken. But have you ever wondered where these legal and social protocols came from? Back when Robert McLeish was a boy there were still separate countries and each had its own legal framework. But there were also various international committees that set the protocols for Computing and supervised development of the World Wide Web (the WC3 consortium) and so on. After the Fall, similar International, social and legal protocols were established by a consortium of World Parliaments. But so entwined had the implementation of the rules become with The Cloud that 'The Guiding Principles' based on the old 'Declaration of Human Rights' were hard encoded into its meta-management protocols. The role of representative bodies was concurrently downgraded to their advisory status today. These Local Councils, Parliaments, and so on, now make official requests for a change to the rules. Systems within The Cloud then make 'dynamic assessments' as to how beneficial such a request might be in meeting the 'guiding principles and overall administrative efficiency. In the event that the assessment is favourable appropriate code is generated and the upgrade across the entire system implemented within seconds. This is much more efficient than the old-time institutions. No sooner is a resolution passed by one of these bodies than an adjustment is made to administrative procedures or it is rejected, complete with a written judgement. For example, an application to build or modify our home or local infrastructure that usually takes seconds if it's within existing guidelines or no more than a few days if a human consultation is required, once took months or years. Legal decisions were just as tedious, trials might have gone on for years. Now a sentence is passed within seconds of the availability of sufficient valid evidence that is usually already resident in the Cloud's data collections. When legal appeals are made, in line with the declaration of human rights, these are dealt with the same alacrity, usually the same day if a jury is required or within an hour otherwise. At a personal level the meta-management level also keeps statistics on individual client (both human and machine) requests and utilisation and evolves new library content to respond to trends and previously unanswerable requests. When Robert was a young man there were millions of distinct devices that might have been called servers, desktops, pads, tablets, phones, as well as embedded data processors in cars, trains, planes, ships, and the associate infrastructure. His goal was to remove these distinctions and to integrate the entire world of electronic devices under one umbrella that he called: The Cloud. In this Prospero has exceeded all expectations. As we know, everyone on the planet has a personal VPA (virtual personal assistant) who seems like a real person to talk but who exists in The Cloud, so that our VPA can appear from almost anywhere when called: on a hand-held device; on a big screen; to provide transport guidance in any vehicle; or to provide cooking or dietary advice from our refrigerator or oven. On a personal note, you may be interested to know that Robert and his wife Mary continued the Shakespearian theme when they named their daughter 'Miranda', Prospero's daughter in the play. Miranda is the well-known philanthropist, carrying on in her father's footsteps.
Computing Today - January 2081 |
Edmund was pleased to see that no one had resorted to having their VPAs read for them. This was an open tutorial titled Natural Philosophy available to anyone on Campus, but usually just a dozen or so bright undergraduates, that he held once a week during term time. He found actual ancient face-to-face teaching both fun and an excellent recruitment ground to attract young talent to his various purposes.
When most of them had finished reading he opened the discussion by saying:
"This effusive story is obviously very 'light on'. Some complex technical issues are missing and it completely avoids several controversial social and legal issues. But I like it because it's saved me a lot of tedious explanation."
Someone asked: "What controversial issues?"
Edmund went into his usual off-hand, cynical presentation style: "As always, there are people who are unhappy by nature and thus with any status quo."
"Those who like to rail against established institutions most often focus on things like: the dangers of machine intelligence; examples of criminality, illegality and fraud within The Cloud; the loss of legal rights; the progressive degradation of traditional democratic institutions; and the disenfranchisement of the illiterate, who now make up most of the population."
"Above all they rail against the apathy of the populous at large for doing nothing about these 'burning issues'. Satisfaction gives them grounds for complaint," he added, unable to avoid the witticism.
"Maybe they're right," growled Mick, the unshaven young man with the vintage Che Guevara T-Shirt. "Maybe these increasingly lonely voices do have grounds for complaint. The average person in the street is apathetic. The Bogans are completely unconcerned about these issues now that they can generally get anything they want with relative ease. Just keep up their sport, song and dance, celebrity gossip, sexual fantasy and the latest gadgets. They've become sheep who don't look beyond the next blade of grass."
A heated discussion then took place, along traditional party lines, about the destiny of the majority of humans to be little more than hedonistic consumers of goods and virtual services.
Edmund resisted mentioning the much worse historic alternatives: slaves; downtrodden factory workers; or cannon fodder. These days Bogans don't have a chain to lose or throw down.
None of the debaters was a Bogan themself, despite Mick's fraternal concerns. So, it got more interesting when a newcomer, Laura, who's mind seemed to have been elsewhere during the social debate, suddenly asked a complete non sequitur: "What's a 'virtual assistant' anyway? I don't mean the obvious - something that appears on a screen to answer questions - I mean is he, she or it actually something that only becomes 'real' in our brain?" She looked quizzically at the others and paused.
The social debaters looked at her as if she had just landed from Mars.
Getting no immediate response, she pressed on: "Like if I view my VPA in 6D no one else can see her. The devices I've attached to myself are just stimulating nerves and sensors on the outside of my body. It's my brain that puts them together. It's only in here that she becomes 'real'," she said, tapping her head.
"There's no actual person - so obviously she's an illusion," said Mick as if she was a child and this was trivial diversion compared to the parlous state of society's institutions: "That's obviously the same as saying our brain's been tricked into seeing a person who isn't there. So, what don't you understand?"
"But that's not trivial," contributed Ellen: "when what's doing the 'tricking' is not our normal senses; or even a camera in the real world somewhere; but a series of data streams generated by processors, machines, in The Cloud. It's nothing like 'reality' in the normal meaning of the word. The modifier, 'virtual' tells us it's actually unreal. We are victims of electronic brain deception."
"Electronic brain deception's not new. It's been going on for over a century," commented Edmund. "It started with microphones and electronically enhanced sound recording".
"So, by the mid to late twentieth century an audiophile could put on a good pair of headphones, close their eyes, and imagine that they were in the recording studio with The Rolling Stones."
"But that's the same with any remote communications," said Joe. "We might be talking or listening to a real person or a machine or a recording of a real person."
"True. It's all about data transfer," contributed Edmund. "If we ignore the details of the links in the communication chain: from the studio microphones to the data storage medium, in the Stones case an early analogue vinyl disk; through some electronic interface; then a couple of vibrating membranes with air in between, the headphone and out eardrum; then back to electrical impulses generated by the cochlear nerves in our head - then the outcome is the same as if we had simply connected our brain to the data-source, some ancient microphones; guitar amps and so on. Our brain has been tricked into thinking it is 'hearing' a late twentieth century rock group because it's receiving the same data as it would have, had we been in the recording studio. And as Joe says, as far as that part of our brain is concerned, they could just as well be next door, right now."
"Seeing three dimensions in the movies started at around the same time," said Ellen on a different tangent. "Things don't actually fly out of a screen. That impression is entirely in the viewer's brain. Even the old two-dimensional movies and televisions tricked our brain. The moving images were actually a rapid series of still pictures one after another. And all sorts of cutting; and blue screens; and visual effects were added to deceive people's brains even more, to make a story believable."
That started an animated discussion as these bright minds dissected the implications.
In the end they unanimously agreed that when a human gets 'fully immersed' in virtual reality, and so has no sensation that is independent of the data-feed, it's as if they have plugged their brain into The Cloud. They have completely surrendered their innate sense of 'everyday' reality and so have become an extended part of The Cloud, they decided.
Mick, who had been so dismissive earlier was now fully engaged. After ritually stating that:
"The whole 'Cloud thing' is a class conspiracy," ignoring that he was already, or soon would be, one of the very class, he considered to be the greater threat.
"Do you think The Cloud could actually be taking-over and using our brains when it has full or partial perceptual control? Can it get data back from us? Can it tap into our uniquely human abilities and use them for its own ends?"
"Well obviously it can in the normal way through our interactions with our VPA's I suppose," he answered his own question.
Edmund, uncharacteristically, decided not to alarm him more. So, he let the conversation go elsewhere, without explaining that indeed haptic technology both records and transmits. Devices like v-Fascinators directly record everything we see and hear and feel and stimulate a variety of brain states. Haptic bodystockings record every muscle twitch and movement so that the sensations can be accurately replayed later or remotely. So, there is a vast two-way data channel between every aspect of a haptic user's central nervous system and the processors in The Cloud. It really doesn't need a user to tell it very much. And Mick is right about our VPAs, that mediate our entire social calendar and all our personal needs. There isn't much about their 'bosses' that The Cloud doesn't know already or can't easily find out.
In the end the class members were less agreed on how possible or potentially dangerous or problematic virtual reality technology might be. It came down to trust. It surprised Edmund that all except Mick believed that The Cloud was entirely trustworthy. But they agreed with him that if The Cloud is not benign, either by design or evolution, then the human race; or at the very least, users of virtual reality, could be in deep trouble.
"That's a wrap class," said Edmund, signalling that their tutorial was over with his usual quick summary of outcomes:
"The Article is a bit of fluff. But it got us talking fruitfully about: the systematic distortion of our perception of reality; immersion technology; and the interconnected brain."
"As to our consumer society that so upsets Mick. It was his namesake who sang the old Stones standard: 'I can't get no Satisfaction' - that sums this society up. Literally it means: How ever hard I try not to be satisfied, I am."
The class laughed appreciatively as they left the room.
Rather attractive Laura was hanging back. "Excellent - a catch! And she's a very nice fish indeed," he thought as he placed a fraternal hand flat on the small of her back, ostensibly to encourage her out of the room. "Can I interest you in a more in-depth investigation of reality over a fine old red Laura?"
Later that evening, after Laura had rather reluctantly left his luxurious pied-à-terre, his thoughts returned to the issues the class had discussed.
To members of Robert McLeish's clan, The Cloud is a constant topic of conversation. They're all aware that there are real grounds for concern. But they have remedies not available to everyone.
Robert foresaw the prospect of evolving machine intelligence and so he installed a number of non-evolving super-routines that guide overall development and administration. Privileges to access the super-administration rest in Robert himself and to his appointed successors. Edmund is one and Angela the other.
Thus, he has become a guardian of humanity should the machine attempt to dispense with its creators and its original raison d'être - the restoration of a sustainable population and thus the wellbeing of the human race. In his case this is a duty similar to that of an atheist who agrees to become godparent to a relative's child. He goes through the technical motions.
But ominously, some motions seem to be called for, The Cloud's supervisory system seems to have evolved a mind of its own again. Hopefully it's not a repeat of the mid '60's singularity event.
On this occasion it seems to be because the administration has been imperfectly 'hacked' by the children: Alex and Charles as a result of Robert incautiously keeping his original design notes and passwords in the family e-vault.
In his post-coital ennui, Edmund is not sure that he cares very much. "Is this particular version of humanity worth saving? And from what, a new god?"
But he does resolve to have a chat with those two children.