Much of what has been discussed on this blog to date has been theoretical and abstract. Abstractions and theory are perhaps the relatively more stable and reliable elements of prognostication, but they lack soul - they are the skeleton framework of dry bones that hunger for the flesh and blood of imagined and lush new worlds. As we gaze into the abyss of the event horizon, these questions echo only, without answer: "But what will the future look like, feel like, taste like?" "What will it mean?" "Will we still be ourselves?"
All of these questions bounce off of the offered mathmatical extrapolations and exponential S-curves which can whisper only about what is theoretically possible, that can tell us only that what we're trying to imagine ultimately may not be within our merely human conceptual grasp.
But we imagine still. If you're a Gen-Xer, like me, the perenial questions, "Where's my jet pack?" "Where's my flying car?" linger to cast a healthy dose of skepticism in reply to any fool who comes along claiming to tell us what the future is going to be like. And all these imaginings from time immemorial probably only really tell us something accurate about our present, as they are simply the projections of ourselves at very particular points of time and the context framing us in the present. If we're Jules Verne or George Méliès, our future cosmonauts wear bloomers and are shot at the moon out of giant gold cannons. If we're Gene Roddenberry, our Starship Enterprise crew wears 1960s bouffants and only more refined polyester combos of leisure/track suits. If we're producing a 1976 SNL skit peering into 1999, everyone then sports identical polyester getups (again) and giant afros. Even when we're not trying to be funny, there are elements of our present we simply just can't imagine being dated, that trip us up, that evoke chuckles and giggles only with decades of hindsight. So much more so when contemplating a radical break like the singularity.
But, sometimes, we get it right. Certainly, no major advance in human technological history happened without being first imagined and most often presented in fantastical science fiction. And so science fiction is a menu of possibility and most often the choices are dictated less by true technical limitation (though that is certainly sometimes the case) than what our future selves find important enough to achieve (somehow, jet packs and flying cars never really developed a compelling market for themselves - a Manhattan project-style initiative for either or both and we'd have flying cars and jet packs aplenty). Our imagination fails most often in anticipating what we'll actually find to be important and crucial in the future. When it does, our imagination fails then in intuiting the evolution of our desire and our own deepest internal motivations. Ultimately, we are a mystery most unto our selves.
With all that said, and with the amount this blog has dwelled on the apocalyptic dangers lurking in the development of AI and ASI, the utopian futurist vision of Ray Kurzweil deserves a hearing. It's compelling and beautiful and seductive. It leaves you wondering if he and others like him are dangerous crackpots or if they just might be on to something. I suspect a little of both and I've probably got a strong history of precedent on my side in imagining that about them. At any rate, enjoy a picture of what could be if he and others like him are 100% right about the most important things and if all goes well in our dangerous quest, straight from the horse's mouth. Nothing huge promised, only immortality: