Becoming intelligent about artificial intelligence

This past week I began a seven-week introductory course on artificial intelligence (AI) for editors.

The course is taught by the naturally intelligent Erin Servais, who is also a dynamic speaker.

The week before the course began, I downloaded ChatGPT and played with it a little. I had never used it before, nor Copilot, Gemini, Claude, or any other popular AI platform. ChatGPT astounded me. I told it to write a poem about Garfield the cat, and in about two seconds it brought forth a rhyming anthem about the fat cat that read like a Shel Silverstein verse.

We have only had one session so far, but I have already completed our first assignment, and the results were hilarious. (I do not feel comfortable sharing my assignment here, since it is part of the course.) I got to read the results of some of the other students as well, and they were equally humorous and outrageous. Sometimes I wonder if ChatGPT ever laughs at itself.

It frightens me that some people use AI to write research papers for them or even to write novels. Would I read a novel that was generated by AI? Only if I were fooled into believing that it was written by a human. Of course, any human who uses AI to write a novel obviously does not like to write and is doing so only to make ill-gotten money. Shame on them.

I am definitely looking forward to learning how to use AI tools to copyedit more efficiently, fact-check, and write my own macros. However, I am also anticipating the class session in which the ethical implications of AI are discussed. I have heard from numerous editors on LinkedIn that there are AI detectors that can supposedly tell whether a work was written by a human or by AI. Unfortunately, many of these editors have run works that they wrote themselves through an AI detector and seen the detector tell them that 80 percent of the work was AI-generated.

Sigh! Can we win?

With the proper skills, yes.

Why use a basic phone?

Basic cell phones were all the rage in the 2000s, as we all know. Back in 2002, who didn’t have a black Nokia 5180 (also known as the “Nokia brick”)? Even those folks who did not have one were familiar with the then-ubiquitous “Nokia tune.”

In the middle part of that decade, the basic phone known as the flip phone became popular. People had something more compact that fit nicely in their pockets and purses. The screens had bright, beautiful colors instead of the creamed-spinach-like monochrome. Their ringtones sounded much nicer, too—no more annoying musical beeps when the phone signaled an incoming call.

Then the iPhone exploded onto the telecommunications scene in 2007, followed by Android smartphones. People could text easily with a virtual keyboard, go on the internet (lowercased “i” according to CMOS 18), read their email, and download apps and music. Whee! As I recall, by 2011, the vast majority of Americans had some kind of smartphone.

Do you ever see anybody with a basic phone anymore?

I do…every once in a blue moon.

I believe the last time I saw somebody with a basic phone was in the waiting room of the ER where my father was hospitalized with pneumonia last February. The person with the basic phone was an older man, probably in his 60s or maybe even his 70s.

“Why would anyone still want a basic phone?” you might ask.

There are reasons, believe it or not.

First, smartphones are too complicated for some people, particularly the elderly. (I’m not putting down the elderly; this is just something I have observed.) Smartphones take a lot of getting used to, and some folks get discouraged, irritated, or overwhelmed with them.

Second—and this is probably more important—basic phones are hacker-proof. Fans of the TV drama NCIS may remember the episode where the phones of all the good guys got hacked, except for that of Gibbs, who had a basic phone. “Hacker-proof!” he shouted gleefully at his team. (I never got into that show, so I am recounting based on what a friend told me.)

Do you have a basic phone? What do you love about it?

AI: Artificial intelligence

These days, there is a lot of talk about artificial intelligence (AI).

To me, the term sounds like an oxymoron. Many decades ago, my father took a training class in the use of the personal computer. According to him, the instructor said, “The first thing to remember is that the computer is a dumb machine.” If that is true, then how can a computer show intelligence?

Just about everyone in this modern world uses AI, whether they know it or not (and whether they like it or not). For example, I have Siri on my iPhone. Siri, for those who aren’t familiar with it, is a virtual assistant which is artificially intelligent. I can ask it, “When is Bruce Springsteen’s birthday?” and it will reply in a female voice, “Bruce Springsteen was born on September twenty-third, nineteen forty-nine, and is seventy-four years old.” Or if I ask Siri a more complex question, it will show me links that potentially have the information for which I am looking. I have to admit that I love Siri.

Texting on my iPhone also exposes me to AI. As I am typing a sentence, three suggested words will appear below the text, and I can tap a word to insert it rather than typing out all of the letters. This saves me a lot of time, although sometimes it concerns me, such as when I type, “Suzelle was…” and one of the next words the app suggests is “murdered.”

For the most part, however, I don’t want much part in AI. I do not want to see a movie or TV show whose script was “created” by AI. Not necessarily because I don’t think the quality will be up to par, but because I believe humans are the only truly creative beings around. Not only that, but the human screenwriters need to eat. It is because of this that we had the writers’ strike in Hollywood last year. AI will never replace human writers. It is the same thing with music. I would not want to listen to music “composed” by AI. What would that sound like? And how would AI give a concert?

A few of my friends have Amazon Alexa in their homes. I have seen instances where Alexa will not do what you ask it to do, such as lower the volume of the music its speaker is playing. I also once heard on a TV news broadcast that there have been times when Alexa will flatly say, “No,” in response to a command. I wonder if the machines are revolting.

What is your opinion of AI?

How to replace a computer…Fiedler style

First, you must decide that you want to replace the computer. Glance at your nine-year-old minitower (yes, I said it is nine years old) and sigh about how it served you in a flash for years but is now as slow as molasses. Then look at the ancient monitor that was given to you by a good friend when your last one suddenly died during an editing gig. Tell the machines that it’s been great working with them all these years, but it is time for them to go to the big office desk in the sky.

Next, go online and write down the model numbers of a couple of nice laptops that interest you and which you would like to make part of your family.

Haul the minitower and monitor to the office/electronics store and tell the friendly tech service folks that you would like your information transferred to the laptop of your choice. Say goodbye to your “old faithful” pieces of equipment and pay for your new laptop (you will not actually have it for a few days, so be absolutely sure to save the paperwork!). Let the tech service folks take care of e-cycling the minitower and monitor (don’t forget to thank them for this).

When the store notifies you that your laptop is ready, pick it up and take it home. Unbox it and do your best to hook everything up. Call your spouse to come and help you. Make sure one of things you attach is your nice ergonomic keyboard, and another is your awesome speaker set (the latter for watching YouTube videos and blasting Eurodance music while you clean the bathroom).

Alas, the speakers won’t work. You can’t figure this out, so take the laptop back to the store and beg for help. The tech service person will plug a set of speakers into your laptop without a hitch. Sigh and go home.

Plug your speakers into your laptop again and rejoice when they work. Begin using your new laptop with pleasure.

Finally, reassure your three-year-old work laptop at the other end of the room that you still love it.

Have you replaced hardware recently? How did it go?

My love-hate relationship with printers

Printers. Just about everyone who has a computer needs one. How else would we make hard copies? How else would we create things to pin to our bulletin boards? I could go on forever.

I love printers (specifically our HP DeskJet 4155e).

I love them because they can take blue, yellow, magenta, and black ink and combine them to form a vast pallet of colors.

I love them because they are fast. I am old enough to remember the slow, noisy dot matrix and daisywheel printers of yore. The one at my home is an inkjet.

I love them because it is not too difficult to install and change their ink cartridges. If I can do it, anyone can—even if I sometimes have to refresh my memory by viewing a YouTube tutorial. My mother bought a Brother printer a little over a year ago and I installed the cartridges in it without any problems.

I love them because they connect to my laptop via Wi-Fi, without messy cords and cables dangling off desks and waiting on the floor to trip me.

I love them because they do their job without audibly saying, “Don’t tell me you’re printing this!”

That being said…

I hate printers.

I hate them when the paper jams. Granted, this rarely happens with ours, and I don’t think most modern printers jam much, if at all.

I hate them when the cartridges run out of ink. This always seems to happen when I am printing something very important, and it is why I always order ink ahead of time so I can keep new cartridges handy.

I hate them when they go offline for a reason I cannot figure out to save my life.

I hate them when they stop being supported by their manufacturer and refuse to print in color or to print correctly. Then I need to buy another whole printer. Planned obsolescence.

How about you? Do you love printers or hate them? Or both?