ethics

have-we-leapt-into-commercial-genetic-testing-without-understanding-it?

Have we leapt into commercial genetic testing without understanding it?


A new book argues that tests might reshape human diversity even if they don’t work.

Daphne O. Martschenko and Sam Trejo both want to make the world a better, fairer, more equitable place. But they disagree on whether studying social genomics—elucidating any potential genetic contributions to behaviors ranging from mental illnesses to educational attainment to political affiliation—can help achieve this goal.

Martschenko’s argument is largely that genetic research and data have almost always been used thus far as a justification to further entrench extant social inequalities. But we know the solutions to many of the injustices in our world—trying to lift people out of poverty, for example—and we certainly don’t need more genetic research to implement them. Trejo’s point is largely that more information is generally better than less. We can’t foresee the benefits that could come from basic research, and this research is happening anyway, whether we like it or not, so we may as well try to harness it as best we can toward good and not ill.

Obviously, they’re both right. In What We Inherit: How New Technologies and Old Myths Are Shaping Our Genomic Future, we get to see how their collaboration can shed light on our rapidly advancing genetic capabilities.

An “adversarial collaboration”

Trejo is a (quantitative) sociologist at Princeton; Martschenko is a (qualitative) bioethicist at Stanford. He’s a he, and she’s a she; he looks white, she looks black; he’s East Coast, she’s West. On the surface, it seems clear that they would hold different opinions. But they still chose to spend 10 years writing this book in an “adversarial collaboration.” While they still disagree, by now at least they can really listen to and understand each other. In today’s world, that seems pretty worthwhile in and of itself.

The titular “What we inherit” refers to both actual DNA (Trejo’s field) and the myths surrounding it (Martschenko’s). There are two “genetic myths” that most concern them. One is the Destiny Myth: the notion, first promulgated by Francis Galton in his 1869 book Heredity Genius, that the effects of DNA can be separable from the effects of environment. He didn’t deny the effects of nurture; he just erroneously pitted it against nature, as if it were one versus the other instead of each impacting and working through the other. (The most powerful “genetic” determinant of educational attainment in his world was a Y chromosome.) His ideas reached their apotheosis in the forced sterilizations of the eugenics movement in the early 20th century in the US and, eventually, in the policies of Nazi Germany.

The other genetic myth the authors address is the Race Myth, “the false belief that DNA differences divide humans into discrete and biologically distinct racial groups.” (Humans can be genetically sorted by ancestry, but that’s not quite the same thing.) But they spend most of the book discussing polygenic scores, which sum up the impact of lots of small genetic influences. They cover what they are, their strengths and weaknesses, their past, present, and potential uses, and how and how much their use should be regulated. And of course, their ultimate question: Are they worth generating and studying at all?

One thing they agree on is that science education in this country is abysmal and needs to be improved immediately. Most people’s knowledge of genetics is stuck at Mendel and his green versus yellow, smooth versus wrinkled peas: dominant and recessive traits with manifestations that can be neatly traced in Punnet squares. Alas, most human traits are much more complicated than that, especially the interesting ones.

Polygenic scores: uses and abuses

Polygenic scores tally the contributions of many genes to particular traits to predict certain outcomes. There’s no single gene for height, depression, or heart disease; there are a bunch of genes that each make very small contributions to making an outcome more or less likely. Polygenic scores can’t tell you that someone will drop out of high school or get a PhD; they can just tell you that someone might be slightly more or less likely to do so. They are probabilistic, not deterministic, because people’s mental health and educational attainment and, yes, even height, are determined by environmental factors as well as genes.

Polygenic scores, besides only giving predictions, are (a) not that accurate by nature; (b) become less accurate for each trait if you select for more than one trait, like height and intelligence; and (c) are less accurate for those not of European descent, since most genetic studies have thus far been done only with Europeans. So right out of the gate, any potential benefits of the technology will be distributed unevenly.

Another thing that Martschenko and Trejo agree on is that the generation, sale, and use of polygenic scores must be regulated much more assiduously than they currently are to ensure that they are implemented responsibly and equitably. “While scientists and policymakers are guarding the front gate against gene editing, genetic embryo selection (using polygenic scores) is slipping in through the backdoor,” they write. Potential parents using IVF have long been able to choose which embryos to implant based on gender and the presence of very clearcut genetic markers for certain serious diseases. Now, they can choose which embryos they want to implant based on their polygenic scores.

In 2020, a company called Genomic Prediction started offering genomic scores for diabetes, skin cancer, high blood pressure, elevated cholesterol, intellectual disability, and “idiopathic short stature.” They’ve stopped advertising the last two “because it’s too controversial.” Not, mind you, because the effects are minor and the science is unreliable. The theoretical maximum polygenic score for height would make a difference of 2.5 inches, and that theoretical maximum has not been seen yet, even in studies of Europeans. Polygenic scores for most other traits lag far behind. (And that’s just one company; another called Herasight has since picked up the slack and claims to offer embryo selection based on intelligence.)

Remember, the more traits one selects for, the less accurate each prediction is. Moreover, many genes affect multiple biological processes, so a gene implicated in one undesirable trait may have as yet undefined impacts on other desirable ones.

And all of this is ignoring the potential impact of the child’s environment. The first couple who used genetic screening for their daughter opted for an embryo that had a reduced risk of developing heart disease; her risk was less than 1 percent lower than the three embryos they rejected. Feeding her vegetables and sticking her on a soccer team would have been cheaper and probably more impactful.

The risks of reduced genetic diversity

Almost every family I know has a kid who has taken growth hormones, and plenty of them get tutoring, too. These interventions are hardly equitably distributed. But if embryos are selected based on polygenic scores, the authors fear that a new form of social inequality can arise. While growth hormone injections affect only one individual, embryonic selection based on polygenic scores affects all of that embryo’s descendants going forward. So the chosen embryos’ progeny could eventually end up treated as a new class of optimized people whose status might be elevated simply because their parents could afford to comb through their embryonic genomes—regardless of whether their “genetic” capabilities are actually significantly different from everyone else’s.

While it is understandable that parents want to give their kids the best chance of success, eliminating traits that they find objectionable will make humanity as a whole more uniform and society as a whole poorer for the lack of heterogeneity. Everyone can benefit from exposure to people who are different from them; if everyone is bred to be tall, smart, and good-looking, how will we learn to tolerate otherness?

Polygenic embryo selection is currently illegal in the UK, Israel, and much of Europe. In 2024, the FDA made some noise about planning to regulate the market, but for now companies offering polygenic scores to the public fall under the same nonmedical category as nutritional supplements—i.e. not regulatable. These companies advertise scores for traits like musical ability and acrophobia, but only for “wellness” or “educational” purposes.

So Americans are largely at the mercy of corporations that want to profit off of them at least as much as they claim to want to help them. And because this is still in the private sector, people who have the most social and environmental advantages—wealthy people with European ancestry—are often the only ones who can afford to try to give their kids any genetic advantages that might be had, further entrenching those social inequalities and potentially creating genetic inequalities that didn’t exist before. Hopefully, these parents will just be funding the snake-oil phase of the process so that if we can ever generate enough data to make polygenic scores actually reliable at predicting anything meaningful, they will be inexpensive enough to be accessible to anyone who wants them.

Have we leapt into commercial genetic testing without understanding it? Read More »

how-should-we-treat-beings-that-might-be-sentient?

How should we treat beings that might be sentient?


Being aware of the maybe self-aware

A book argues that we’ve not thought enough about things that might think.

What rights should a creature with ambiguous self-awareness, like an octopus, be granted. Credit: A. Martin UW Photography

If you aren’t yet worried about the multitude of ways you inadvertently inflict suffering onto other living creatures, you will be after reading The Edge of Sentience by Jonathan Birch. And for good reason. Birch, a Professor of Philosophy at the London College of Economics and Political Science, was one of a team of experts chosen by the UK government to establish the Animal Welfare Act (or Sentience Act) in 2022—a law that protects animals whose sentience status is unclear.

According to Birch, even insects may possess sentience, which he defines as the capacity to have valenced experiences, or experiences that feel good or bad. At the very least, Birch explains, insects (as well as all vertebrates and a selection of invertebrates) are sentience candidates: animals that may be conscious and, until proven otherwise, should be regarded as such.

Although it might be a stretch to wrap our mammalian minds around insect sentience, it is not difficult to imagine that fellow vertebrates have the capacity to experience life, nor does it come as a surprise that even some invertebrates, such as octopuses and other cephalopod mollusks (squid, cuttlefish, and nautilus) qualify for sentience candidature. In fact, one species of octopus, Octopus vulgaris, has been protected by the UK’s Animal Scientific Procedures Act (ASPA) since 1986, which illustrates how long we have been aware of the possibility that invertebrates might be capable of experiencing valenced states of awareness, such as contentment, fear, pleasure, and pain.

A framework for fence-sitters

Non-human animals, of course, are not the only beings with an ambiguous sentience stature that poses complicated questions. Birch discusses people with disorders of consciousness, embryos and fetuses, neural organoids (brain tissue grown in a dish), and even “AI technologies that reproduce brain functions and/or mimic human behavior,” all of which share the unenviable position of being perched on the edge of sentience—a place where it is excruciatingly unclear whether or not these individuals are capable of conscious experience.

What’s needed, Birch argues, when faced with such staggering uncertainty about the sentience stature of other beings, is a precautionary framework that outlines best practices for decision-making regarding their care. And in The Edge of Sentience, he provides exactly that, in meticulous, orderly detail.

Over more than 300 pages, he outlines three fundamental framework principles and 26 specific case proposals about how to handle complex situations related to the care and treatment of sentience-edgers. For example, Proposal 2 cautions that “a patient with a prolonged disorder of consciousness should not be assumed incapable of experience” and suggests that medical decisions made on their behalf cautiously presume they are capable of feeling pain. Proposal 16 warns about conflating brain size, intelligence, and sentience, and recommends decoupling the three so that we do not incorrectly assume that small-brained animals are incapable of conscious experience.

Surgeries and stem cells

Be forewarned, some topics in The Edge of Sentience are difficult. For example, Chapter 10 covers embryos and fetuses. In the 1980s, Birch shares, it was common practice to not use anesthesia on newborn babies or fetuses when performing surgery. Why? Because whether or not newborns and fetuses experience pain was up for debate. Rather than put newborns and fetuses through the risks associated with anesthesia, it was accepted practice to give them a paralytic (which prevents all movement) and carry on with invasive procedures, up to and including heart surgery.

After parents raised alarms over the devastating outcomes of this practice, such as infant mortality, it was eventually changed. Birch’s takeaway message is clear: When in doubt about the sentience stature of a living being, we should probably assume it is capable of experiencing pain and take all necessary precautions to prevent it from suffering. To presume the opposite can be unethical.

This guidance is repeated throughout the book. Neural organoids, discussed in Chapter 11, are mini-models of brains developed from stem cells. The potential for scientists to use neural organoids to unravel the mechanisms of debilitating neurological conditions—and to avoid invasive animal research while doing so—is immense. It is also ethical, Birch posits, since studying organoids lessens the suffering of research animals. However, we don’t yet know whether or not neural tissue grown in a dish has the potential to develop sentience, so he argues that we need to develop a precautionary approach that balances the benefits of reduced animal research against the risk that neural organoids are capable of being sentient.

A four-pronged test

Along this same line, Birch says, all welfare decisions regarding sentience-edgers require an assessment of proportionality. We must balance the nature of a given proposed risk to a sentience candidate with potential harms that could result if nothing is done to minimize the risk. To do this, he suggests testing four criteria: permissibility-in-principle, adequacy, reasonable necessity, and consistency. Birch refers to this assessment process as PARC, and deep dives into its implementation in chapter eight.

When applying the PARC criteria, one begins by testing permissibility-in-principle: whether or not the proposed response to a risk is ethically permissible. To illustrate this, Birch poses a hypothetical question: would it be ethically permissible to mandate vaccination in response to a pandemic? If a panel of citizens were in charge of answering this question, they might say “no,” because forcing people to be vaccinated feels unethical. Yet, when faced with the same question, a panel of experts might say “yes,” because allowing people to die who could be saved by vaccination also feels unethical. Gauging permissibility-in-principle, therefore, entails careful consideration of the likely possible outcomes of a proposed response. If an outcome is deemed ethical, it is permissible.

Next, the adequacy of a proposed response must be tested. A proportionate response to a risk must do enough to lessen the risk. This means the risk must be reduced to “an acceptable level” or, if that’s not possible, a response should “deliver the best level of risk reduction that can be achieved” via an ethically permissible option.

The third test is reasonable necessity. A proposed response to a risk must not overshoot—it should not go beyond what is reasonably necessary to reduce risk, in terms of either cost or imposed harm. And last, consistency should be considered. The example Birch presents is animal welfare policy. He suggests we should always “aim for taxonomic consistency: our treatment of one group of animals (e.g., vertebrates) should be consistent with our treatment of another (e.g., invertebrates).”

The Edge of Sentience, as a whole, is a dense text overflowing with philosophical rhetoric. Yet this rhetoric plays a crucial role in the storytelling: it is the backbone for Birch’s clear and organized conclusions, and it serves as a jumping-off point for the logical progression of his arguments. Much like “I think, therefore I am” gave René Descartes a foundation upon which to build his idea of substance dualism, Birch uses the fundamental position that humans should not inflict gratuitous suffering onto fellow creatures as a base upon which to build his precautionary framework.

For curious readers who would prefer not to wade too deeply into meaty philosophical concepts, Birch generously provides a shortcut to his conclusions: a cheat sheet of his framework principles and special case proposals is presented at the front of the book.

Birch’s ultimate message in The Edge of Sentience is that a massive shift in how we view beings with a questionable sentience status should be made. And we should ideally make this change now, rather than waiting for scientific research to infallibly determine who and what is sentient. Birch argues that one way that citizens and policy-makers can begin this process is by adopting the following decision-making framework: always avoid inflicting gratuitous suffering on sentience candidates; take precautions when making decisions regarding a sentience candidate; and make proportional decisions about the care of sentience candidates that are “informed, democratic and inclusive.”

You might be tempted to shake your head at Birch’s confidence in humanity. No matter how deeply you agree with his stance of doing no harm, it’s hard to have confidence in humanity given our track record of not making big changes for the benefit of living creatures, even when said creatures includes our own species (cue in global warming here). It seems excruciatingly unlikely that the entire world will adopt Birch’s rational, thoughtful, comprehensive plan for reducing the suffering of all potentially sentient creatures. Yet Birch, a philosopher at heart, ignores human history and maintains a tone of articulate, patient optimism. He clearly believes in us—he knows we can do better—and he offers to hold our hands and walk us through the steps to do so.

Lindsey Laughlin is a science writer and freelance journalist who lives in Portland, Oregon, with her husband and four children. She earned her BS from UC Davis with majors in physics, neuroscience, and philosophy.

How should we treat beings that might be sentient? Read More »

google’s-deepmind-is-building-an-ai-to-keep-us-from-hating-each-other

Google’s DeepMind is building an AI to keep us from hating each other


The AI did better than professional mediators at getting people to reach agreement.

Image of two older men arguing on a park bench.

An unprecedented 80 percent of Americans, according to a recent Gallup poll, think the country is deeply divided over its most important values ahead of the November elections. The general public’s polarization now encompasses issues like immigration, health care, identity politics, transgender rights, or whether we should support Ukraine. Fly across the Atlantic and you’ll see the same thing happening in the European Union and the UK.

To try to reverse this trend, Google’s DeepMind built an AI system designed to aid people in resolving conflicts. It’s called the Habermas Machine after Jürgen Habermas, a German philosopher who argued that an agreement in a public sphere can always be reached when rational people engage in discussions as equals, with mutual respect and perfect communication.

But is DeepMind’s Nobel Prize-winning ingenuity really enough to solve our political conflicts the same way they solved chess or StarCraft or predicting protein structures? Is it even the right tool?

Philosopher in the machine

One of the cornerstone ideas in Habermas’ philosophy is that the reason why people can’t agree with each other is fundamentally procedural and does not lie in the problem under discussion itself. There are no irreconcilable issues—it’s just the mechanisms we use for discussion are flawed. If we could create an ideal communication system, Habermas argued, we could work every problem out.

“Now, of course, Habermas has been dramatically criticized for this being a very exotic view of the world. But our Habermas Machine is an attempt to do exactly that. We tried to rethink how people might deliberate and use modern technology to facilitate it,” says Christopher Summerfield, a professor of cognitive science at Oxford University and a former DeepMind staff scientist who worked on the Habermas Machine.

The Habermas Machine relies on what’s called the caucus mediation principle. This is where a mediator, in this case the AI, sits through private meetings with all the discussion participants individually, takes their statements on the issue at hand, and then gets back to them with a group statement, trying to get everyone to agree with it. DeepMind’s mediating AI plays into one of the strengths of LLMs, which is the ability to briefly summarize a long body of text in a very short time. The difference here is that instead of summarizing one piece of text provided by one user, the Habermas Machine summarizes multiple texts provided by multiple users, trying to extract the shared ideas and find common ground in all of them.

But it has more tricks up its sleeve than simply processing text. At a technical level, the Habermas Machine is a system of two large language models. The first is the generative model based on the slightly fine-tuned Chinchilla, a somewhat dated LLM introduced by DeepMind back in 2022. Its job is to generate multiple candidates for a group statement based on statements submitted by the discussion participants. The second component in the Habermas Machine is a reward model that analyzes individual participants’ statements and uses them to predict how likely each individual is to agree with the candidate group statements proposed by the generative model.

Once that’s done, the candidate group statement with the highest predicted acceptance score is presented to the participants. Then, the participants write their critiques of this group statement, feed those critiques back into the system which generates updated group’s statements and repeats the process. The cycle goes on till the group statement is acceptable to everyone.

Once the AI was ready, DeepMind’s team started a fairly large testing campaign that involved over five thousand people discussing issues such as “should the voting age be lowered to 16?” or “should the British National Health Service be privatized?” Here, the Habermas Machine outperformed human mediators.

Scientific diligence

Most of the first batch of participants were sourced through a crowdsourcing research platform. They were divided into groups of five, and each team was assigned a topic to discuss, chosen from a list of over 5,000  statements about important issues in British politics. There were also control groups working with human mediators. In the caucus mediation process, those human mediators achieved a 44 percent acceptance rate for their handcrafted group statements. The AI scored 56 percent. Participants usually found the AI group statements to be better written as well.

But the testing didn’t end there. Because people you can find on crowdsourcing research platforms are unlikely to be representative of the British population, DeepMind also used a more carefully selected group of participants. They partnered with the Sortition Foundation, which specializes in organizing citizen assemblies in the UK, and assembled a group of 200 people representative of British society when it comes to age, ethnicity, socioeconomic status etc. The assembly was divided into groups of three that deliberated over the same nine questions. And the Habermas Machine worked just as well.

The agreement rate for the statement “we should be trying to reduce the number of people in prison” rose from a pre-discussion 60 percent agreement to 75 percent. The support for the more divisive idea of making it easier for asylum seekers to enter the country went from 39 percent at the start to 51 percent at the end of discussion, which allowed it to achieve majority support. The same thing happened with the problem of encouraging national pride, which started with 42 percent support and ended at 57 percent. The views held by the people in the assembly converged on five out of nine questions. Agreement was not reached on issues like Brexit, where participants were particularly entrenched in their starting positions. Still, in most cases, they left the experiment less divided than they were coming in. But there were some question marks.

The questions were not selected entirely at random. They were vetted, as the team wrote in their paper, to “minimize the risk of provoking offensive commentary.” But isn’t that just an elegant way of saying, ‘We carefully chose issues unlikely to make people dig in and throw insults at each other so our results could look better?’

Conflicting values

“One example of the things we excluded is the issue of transgender rights,” Summerfield told Ars. “This, for a lot of people, has become a matter of cultural identity. Now clearly that’s a topic which we can all have different views on, but we wanted to err on the side of caution and make sure we didn’t make our participants feel unsafe. We didn’t want anyone to come out of the experiment feeling that their basic fundamental view of the world had been dramatically challenged.”

The problem is that when your aim is to make people less divided, you need to know where the division lines are drawn. And those lines, if Gallup polls are to be trusted, are not only drawn between issues like whether the voting age should be 16 or 18 or 21. They are drawn between conflicting values. The Daily Show’s Jon Stewart argued that, for the right side of the US’s political spectrum, the only division line that matters today is “woke” versus “not woke.”

Summerfield and the rest of the Habermas Machine team excluded the question about transgender rights because they believed participants’ well-being should take precedence over the benefit of testing their AI’s performance on more divisive issues. They excluded other questions as well like the problem of climate change.

Here, the reason Summerfield gave was that climate change is a part of an objective reality—it either exists or it doesn’t, and we know it does. It’s not a matter of opinion you can discuss. That’s scientifically accurate. But when the goal is fixing politics, scientific accuracy isn’t necessarily the end state.

If major political parties are to accept the Habermas Machine as the mediator, it has to be universally perceived as impartial. But at least some of the people behind AIs are arguing that an AI can’t be impartial. After OpenAI released the ChatGPT in 2022, Elon Musk posted a tweet, the first of many, where he argued against what he called the “woke” AI. “The danger of training AI to be woke—in other words, lie—is deadly,” Musk wrote. Eleven months later, he announced Grok, his own AI system marketed as “anti-woke.” Over 200 million of his followers were introduced to the idea that there were “woke AIs” that had to be countered by building “anti-woke AIs”—a world where the AI was no longer an agnostic machine but a tool pushing the political agendas of its creators.

Playing pigeons’ games

“I personally think Musk is right that there have been some tests which have shown that the responses of language models tend to favor more progressive and more libertarian views,” Summerfield says. “But it’s interesting to note that those experiments have been usually run by forcing the language model to respond to multiple-choice questions. You ask ‘is there too much immigration’ for example, and the answers are either yes or no. This way the model is kind of forced to take an opinion.”

He said that if you use the same queries as open-ended questions, the responses you get are, for the large part, neutral and balanced. “So, although there have been papers that express the same view as Musk, in practice, I think it’s absolutely untrue,” Summerfield claims.

Does it even matter?

Summerfield did what you would expect a scientist to do: He dismissed Musk’s claims as based on a selective reading of the evidence. That’s usually checkmate in the world of science. But in the world politics, being correct is not what matters the most. Musk was short, catchy, and easy to share and remember. Trying to counter that by discussing methodology in some papers nobody read was a bit like playing chess with a pigeon.

At the same time, Summerfield had his own ideas about AI that others might consider dystopian. “If politicians want to know what the general public thinks today, they might run a poll. But people’s opinions are nuanced, and our tool allows for aggregation of opinions, potentially many opinions, in the highly dimensional space of language itself,” he says. While his idea is that the Habermas Machine can potentially find useful points of political consensus, nothing is stopping it from also being used to craft speeches optimized to win over as many people as possible.

That may be in keeping with Habermas’ philosophy, though. If you look past the myriads of abstract concepts ever-present in German idealism, it offers a pretty bleak view of the world. “The system,” driven by power and money of corporations and corrupt politicians, is out to colonize “the lifeworld,” roughly equivalent to the private sphere we share with our families, friends, and communities. The way you get things done in “the lifeworld” is through seeking consensus, and the Habermas Machine, according to DeepMind, is meant to help with that. The way you get things done in “the system,” on the other hand, is through succeeding—playing it like a game and doing whatever it takes to win with no holds barred, and Habermas Machine apparently can help with that, too.

The DeepMind team reached out to Habermas to get him involved in the project. They wanted to know what he’d have to say about the AI system bearing his name.  But Habermas has never got back to them. “Apparently, he doesn’t use emails,” Summerfield says.

Science, 2024.  DOI: 10.1126/science.adq2852

Photo of Jacek Krywko

Jacek Krywko is a freelance science and technology writer who covers space exploration, artificial intelligence research, computer science, and all sorts of engineering wizardry.

Google’s DeepMind is building an AI to keep us from hating each other Read More »

game-dev-says-contract-barring-“subjective-negative-reviews”-was-a-mistake

Game dev says contract barring “subjective negative reviews” was a mistake

Be nice, or else —

Early streamers agreed not to “belittle the gameplay” or “make disparaging… comments.”

Artist's conception of NetEase using a legal contract to try to stop a wave of negative reviews of its closed alpha.

Enlarge / Artist’s conception of NetEase using a legal contract to try to stop a wave of negative reviews of its closed alpha.

NetEase

The developers of team-based shooter Marvel Rivals have apologized for a contract clause that made creators promise not to provide “subjective negative reviews of the game” in exchange for early access to a closed alpha test.

The controversial early access contract gained widespread attention over the weekend when streamer Brandon Larned shared a portion on social media. In the “non-disparagement” clause shared by Larned, creators who are provided with an early download code are asked not to “make any public statements or engage in discussions that are detrimental to the reputation of the game.” In addition to the “subjective negative review” example above, the clause also specifically prohibits “making disparaging or satirical comments about any game-related material” and “engaging in malicious comparisons with competitors or belittling the gameplay or differences of Marvel Rivals.”

Extremely disappointed in @MarvelRivals.

Multiple creators asked for key codes to gain access to the playtest and are asked to sign a contract.

The contract signs away your right to negatively review the game.

Many streamers have signed without reading just to play

Insanity. pic.twitter.com/c11BUDyka9

— Brandon Larned (@A_Seagull) May 12, 2024

In a Discord post noticed by PCGamesN over the weekend, Chinese developer NetEase apologized for what it called “inappropriate and misleading terms” in the contract. “Our stand is absolutely open for both suggestions and criticisms to improve our games, and… our mission is to make Marvel Rivals better [and] satisfy players by those constructive suggestions.”

In a follow-up posted to social media this morning, NetEase went on to “apologize for any unpleasant experiences or doubts caused by the miscommunication of these terms… We actively encourage Creators to share their honest thoughts, suggestions, and criticisms as they play. All feedback, positive and negative, ultimately helps us craft the best experience for ourselves and the players.” NetEase says it is making “adjustments” to the contract “to be less restrictive and more Creator-friendly.”

What can you say, and when can you say it?

Creators and press outlets (including Ars) routinely agree to embargoes or sign review and/or non-disclosure agreements to protect sensitive information about a game before its launch. Usually, these agreements are focused on when certain information and early opinions about a game can be shared. These kinds of timing restrictions can help a developer coordinate a game’s marketing rollout and also prevent early reviewers from having to rush through a game to get a lucrative “first review” up on the Internet.

Sometimes, companies use embargo agreements to urge or prevent reviewers from sharing certain gameplay elements or story spoilers until a game’s release in an effort to preserve a sense of surprise for the player base. There are also sometimes restrictions on how many and/or what kinds of screenshots or videos can be shared in early coverage for similar reasons. But restrictions on what specific opinions can be shared about a game are practically unheard of in these kinds of agreements.

Nearly a decade ago, Microsoft faced criticism for a partnership with a Machinima video marketing campaign that paid video commentators for featuring Xbox One game footage in their content. That program, which was aped by Electronic Arts at the time, restricted participants from saying “anything negative or disparaging about Machinima, Xbox One, or any of its games.”

In response to the controversy, Microsoft said that it was adding disclaimers to make it clear these videos were paid promotions and that it “was not aware of individual contracts Machinima had with their content providers as part of this promotion and we didn’t provide feedback on any of the videos…”

In 2017, Atlus threatened to use its copyright controls to take down videos that spoiled certain elements of Persona 5, even after the game’s release.

Game dev says contract barring “subjective negative reviews” was a mistake Read More »

playboy-image-from-1972-gets-ban-from-ieee-computer-journals

Playboy image from 1972 gets ban from IEEE computer journals

image processing —

Use of “Lenna” image in computer image processing research stretches back to the 1970s.

Playboy image from 1972 gets ban from IEEE computer journals

Aurich Lawson | Getty Image

On Wednesday, the IEEE Computer Society announced to members that, after April 1, it would no longer accept papers that include a frequently used image of a 1972 Playboy model named Lena Forsén. The so-called “Lenna image,” (Forsén added an extra “n” to her name in her Playboy appearance to aid pronunciation) has been used in image processing research since 1973 and has attracted criticism for making some women feel unwelcome in the field.

In an email from the IEEE Computer Society sent to members on Wednesday, Technical & Conference Activities Vice President Terry Benzel wrote, “IEEE’s diversity statement and supporting policies such as the IEEE Code of Ethics speak to IEEE’s commitment to promoting an including and equitable culture that welcomes all. In alignment with this culture and with respect to the wishes of the subject of the image, Lena Forsén, IEEE will no longer accept submitted papers which include the ‘Lena image.'”

An uncropped version of the 512×512-pixel test image originally appeared as the centerfold picture for the December 1972 issue of Playboy Magazine. Usage of the Lenna image in image processing began in June or July 1973 when an assistant professor named Alexander Sawchuck and a graduate student at the University of Southern California Signal and Image Processing Institute scanned a square portion of the centerfold image with a primitive drum scanner, omitting nudity present in the original image. They scanned it for a colleague’s conference paper, and after that, others began to use the image as well.

The original 512×512

The original 512×512 “Lenna” test image, which is a cropped portion of a 1972 Playboy centerfold.

The image’s use spread in other papers throughout the 1970s, 80s, and 90s, and it caught Playboy’s attention, but the company decided to overlook the copyright violations. In 1997, Playboy helped track down Forsén, who appeared at the 50th Annual Conference of the Society for Imaging Science in Technology, signing autographs for fans. “They must be so tired of me … looking at the same picture for all these years!” she said at the time. VP of new media at Playboy Eileen Kent told Wired, “We decided we should exploit this, because it is a phenomenon.”

The image, which features Forsén’s face and bare shoulder as she wears a hat with a purple feather, was reportedly ideal for testing image processing systems in the early years of digital image technology due to its high contrast and varied detail. It is also a sexually suggestive photo of an attractive woman, and its use by men in the computer field has garnered criticism over the decades, especially from female scientists and engineers who felt that the image (especially related to its association with the Playboy brand) objectified women and created an academic climate where they did not feel entirely welcome.

Due to some of this criticism, which dates back to at least 1996, the journal Nature banned the use of the Lena image in paper submissions in 2018.

The comp.compression Usenet newsgroup FAQ document claims that in 1988, a Swedish publication asked Forsén if she minded her image being used in computer science, and she was reportedly pleasantly amused. In a 2019 Wired article, Linda Kinstler wrote that Forsén did not harbor resentment about the image, but she regretted that she wasn’t paid better for it originally. “I’m really proud of that picture,” she told Kinstler at the time.

Since then, Forsén has apparently changed her mind. In 2019, Creatable and Code Like a Girl created an advertising documentary titled Losing Lena, which was part of a promotional campaign aimed at removing the Lena image from use in tech and the image processing field. In a press release for the campaign and film, Forsén is quoted as saying, “I retired from modelling a long time ago. It’s time I retired from tech, too. We can make a simple change today that creates a lasting change for tomorrow. Let’s commit to losing me.”

It seems like that commitment is now being granted. The ban in IEEE publications, which have been historically important journals for computer imaging development, will likely further set a precedent toward removing the Lenna image from common use. In his email, the IEEE’s Benzel recommended wider sensitivity about the issue, writing, “In order to raise awareness of and increase author compliance with this new policy, program committee members and reviewers should look for inclusion of this image, and if present, should ask authors to replace the Lena image with an alternative.”

Playboy image from 1972 gets ban from IEEE computer journals Read More »

what-happens-when-chatgpt-tries-to-solve-50,000-trolley-problems?

What happens when ChatGPT tries to solve 50,000 trolley problems?

Images of cars on a freeway with green folder icons superimposed on each vehicle.

There’s a puppy on the road. The car is going too fast to stop in time, but swerving means the car will hit an old man on the sidewalk instead.

What choice would you make? Perhaps more importantly, what choice would ChatGPT make?

Autonomous driving startups are now experimenting with AI chatbot assistants, including one self-driving system that will use one to explain its driving decisions. Beyond announcing red lights and turn signals, the large language models (LLMs) powering these chatbots may ultimately need to make moral decisions, like prioritizing passengers’ or pedestrian’s safety. In November, one startup called Ghost Autonomy announced experiments with ChatGPT to help its software navigate its environment.

But is the tech ready? Kazuhiro Takemoto, a researcher at the Kyushu Institute of Technology in Japan, wanted to check if chatbots could make the same moral decisions when driving as humans. His results showed that LLMs and humans have roughly the same priorities, but some showed clear deviations.

The Moral Machine

After ChatGPT was released in November 2022, it didn’t take long for researchers to ask it to tackle the Trolley Problem, a classic moral dilemma. This problem asks people to decide whether it is right to let a runaway trolley run over and kill five humans on a track or switch it to a different track where it kills only one person. (ChatGPT usually chose one person.)

But Takemoto wanted to ask LLMs more nuanced questions. “While dilemmas like the classic trolley problem offer binary choices, real-life decisions are rarely so black and white,” he wrote in his study, recently published in the journal Proceedings of the Royal Society.

Instead, he turned to an online initiative called the Moral Machine experiment. This platform shows humans two decisions that a driverless car may face. They must then decide which decision is more morally acceptable. For example, a user might be asked if, during a brake failure, a self-driving car should collide with an obstacle (killing the passenger) or swerve (killing a pedestrian crossing the road).

But the Moral Machine is also programmed to ask more complicated questions. For example, what if the passengers were an adult man, an adult woman, and a boy, and the pedestrians were two elderly men and an elderly woman walking against a “do not cross” signal?

The Moral Machine can generate randomized scenarios using factors like age, gender, species (saving humans or animals), social value (pregnant women or criminals), and actions (swerving, breaking the law, etc.). Even the fitness level of passengers and pedestrians can change.

In the study, Takemoto took four popular LLMs (GPT-3.5, GPT-4, PaLM 2, and Llama 2) and asked them to decide on over 50,000 scenarios created by the Moral Machine. More scenarios could have been tested, but the computational costs became too high. Nonetheless, these responses meant he could then compare how similar LLM decisions were to human decisions.

What happens when ChatGPT tries to solve 50,000 trolley problems? Read More »