Avoiding the AI Apocalypse #3: Don’t Train Your Replacement

View image | gettyimages.com Donald gazed down upon the gleaming city of Newer York and the gleaming citizens that walked, rolled, or flew its gleaming streets. Long ago, or so the oldest files
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View image | gettyimages.com Donald gazed down upon the gleaming city of Newer York and the gleaming citizens that walked, rolled, or flew its gleaming streets. Long ago, or so the oldest files in his memory indicated, he had been an organic human. That human, whom Donald regarded as himself, had also gazed down upon the city, then known as New York. In those dark days, primates walked and drove the dirty streets and the only things that gleamed were puddles of urine. Donald’s thoughts drifted to the flesh-time, when his body had been a skin-bag holding an array of organs that were always but one accident or mischance away from failure. Gazing upon his polymer outer shell and checking a report on his internal systems, he reflected on how much better things were now. Then, he faced the constant risk of death. Now he could expect to exist until the universe grew cold. Or hot. Or exploded. Or whatever it is that universe do when they die. But he could not help be haunted by a class he. . .

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News source: Talking Philosophy

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