Shimon Edelman

Shimon Edelman

In its pragmatic turn, the new discipline of AI ethics came to be dominated by humanity's collective fear of its creatures, as reflected in an extensive and perennially popular literary tradition. Dr. Frankenstein's monster in the novel by Mary Shelley rising against its creator; the unorthodox golem in H. Leivick's 1920 play going on a rampage; the rebellious robots of Karel Čapek -- these and hundreds of other examples of the genre are the background against which the preoccupation of AI ethics with preventing robots from behaving badly towards people is best understood. In each of these three fictional cases (as well as in many others), the miserable artificial creature -- mercilessly exploited, or cornered by a murderous mob, and driven to violence in self-defense -- has its author's sympathy. In real life, with very few exceptions, things are different: theorists working on the ethics of AI completely ignore the possibility of robots needing protection from their creators. The present book chapter takes up this, less commonly considered, ethical angle of AI.

Shimon Edelman

What does it mean to know language? Since the Chomskian revolution, one popular answer to this question has been: to possess a generative grammar that exclusively licenses certain syntactic structures. Decades later, not even an approximation to such a grammar, for any language, has been formulated; the idea that grammar is universal and innately specified has proved barren; and attempts to show how it could be learned from experience invariably come up short. To move on from this impasse, we must rediscover the extent to which language is like any other human behavior: dynamic, social, multimodal, patterned, and purposive, its purpose being to promote desirable actions (or thoughts) in others and self. Recent psychological, computational, neurobiological, and evolutionary insights into the shaping and structure of behavior may then point us toward a new, viable account of language.