Another -isation

Coming across a new word kicks off some mixed feelings. What should I think? Should I be a pedant? Should I start using it right away or write to the newspapers in disgust?

This morning, I put a new word to Sue at breakfast. Her reaction was “that’s obscene”. It’s true that only one of us might be eligible or think about joining the Apostrophe Protection Society[1]. I was ambivalent towards technical colleagues making-up a new word. In this case, there’s no ambiguity in meaning. No need to explain. Chunking two ideas together is creativity – isn’t it?

I can’t go as far as to sniff at a newfound English word. Modern language must evolve. It must branch off onto fresh exotic paths. I’ve always thought the idea that there should be legislation to protect a “true” version of a langauage is as useful as hammering the nails into its coffin.

Composite words can be a delight. For one Christmas, I got a wonderful book of some of the longest German words that know no English equivalent. Naming objects or expressing combinations of circumstances in one gigantic word can be a lot of fun and surprisingly practical.

Who doesn’t like: Streichholzschächtelchen. Yes, it’s a matchbox.

Today, we talk of streaming as if that word had been around since prehistoric times but there are limits as to how we use it. For example, I’d sound strange if I said I was all streamed-up or streamed-out. My meaning being the memory on my mobile device was full of endless streamed material.

The word software[2] started its life as the name suggests. Something, like wool that was soft to ware. Say; I like this well-made winter coat. It’s good quality software. A crate in a coat makers factory might have a label with that humble word attached.

Today, no one would normally make that association. Almost since the date of my birth. And I could say the era of my birth was the beginning of the Space Age. The 1960s. Since the date of my birth, and the major part computers take in our everyday lives the term software has grown and grown. If a child of 5-years-old doesn’t know the word, there education must be wanting.

Living a sheltered existence, it’s only this morning that the word softwarisation came to my notice. Even the spellchecker and text prediction want to turn it into something else. The word does follow that simple composting convention that seems so popular, particularly amongst technical society. Assuming everyone knows what software is then it adds an ending that suggest a transformation from something into software. I’m not talking about turning a lump of cheese into software, so context is all important.

Software’s forefather, or mother was hardware. That’s the physical electronics that you can touch and hold. Loads of semiconductors and tiny circuits in our devices that are constantly taken for granted. Softwarisation is a way of saying that more and more digital device functionality is dependent on software and not physical hardware. More and more device hardware is becoming general purpose and it’s the software does the thinking. I’ll go with that. It’s happening.

PS: I didn’t use Microsoft Bing (software) to help create the above but after I’d written it I did have a look to see what it said about the subject. Help, there’s no going back.

[1] https://www.apostrophe.org.uk/

[2] https://www.etymonline.com/word/software

Drift

There’s a problem. A big problem. Waking up to hear the Dutch situation, it’s not as if we should be surprised[1]. Hearing of the violence on the streets of Dublin. It’s shocking. Listening to right-wing politicians talk about the latest immigration figures. Distortion and twisting of the numbers are commonplace tactics. Fearmongering is the stock and trade of an unscrupulous bunch.

Although populist have delivered only failure in the last decade there’s something about them that sticks. They have ring fenced the arena of doom and gloom for their own ends. Whereas in the past, shining a light on the flaws and nonsense of certain people’s arguments was enough to consign them to the margins, now that doesn’t work so well. Misinformation goes mainstream.

The Brexit referendum was a lesson in 21st century campaigning. More facts don’t win the hearts and minds of the populous. Why liberal, like myself always major on rationality is a mystery. As the ancient Greeks might have put it “logos” has its place in the art of persuasion but it’s one of three. Credibility, or “ethos” matters greatly. But the one on the list that works, “pathos,” meaning persuasion based on emotion, is far the most effective.

I happened to catch a few minutes of The World at War[2] on one of the more obscure British televisions channels. The digital air is full of fringe channels. This epic 1970s series presents interviews with those who experienced WWII. Every time, I watch even a clip of the series a shiver runs down my spine. The times it documents are not long ago. It’s the modern world.

The evils that despots and extreme nationalism can do is unquestionable. The hard conviction that others are inferior and that they are a threat to the way of life of a nation has not perished. Politicians unwilling to accept accountability are keen to point fingers at those they can blame for promises broken. Blinkered minds fixate to blank out inconvenient facts.

The history books show that the drift towards mindlessness doesn’t always announce itself. Only retrospectively can a day when the atmosphere changed be highlighted. Then it can seem obvious. Being mindful of the impact that divisive speeches and campaign slogans can have is an absolute must. Language counts.

Migration will always be an issue. This age is one of high levels of mobility. Transport is affordable. It’s open to those seeking to escape discrimination or to ambitious for a better life. Shifting population made nations. America and Australasia are examples of people moving (or being moved).

What we don’t have is a workable way of wining hearts and minds. Yes, managing migration is a priority issue but not managing it as a crisis with negativity and warnings of catastrophe. The results of doom and gloom will be more doom and gloom. That just feeds far right-wing movements.

[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-67512204

[2] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0071075/

The Dr

There’s something wonderfully peculiar about a time traveller wandering around the universe in a British police box. Time and space are the stuff of an infinite number of story lines. But the ones who strike a cord with us most are the humancentric ones. Our home, Earth is under threat. Humanity is in peril. Nobody knows what to do. Then stepping out of street furniture from the 1960s comes a hero. Not a muscle bound, gun toting superhero with magical powers. No, an eccentric, cerebral alien who looks like a college professor who took too many happy pills in their hippy phase. Humanoid in appearance. Wherever The Doctor goes so enemies follow, set for a final showdown[1].

Iconic features of Dr Who’s[2] life echo down through our decades. The Doctor’s vehicle is nothing like H G Well imagined. With a nice trick of being bigger inside than out it dazzles all who hitch a ride. If only we could master that transformation. I for one, don’t think it’s entirely impossible. Afterall isn’t physics up to about 12 dimensions now?

No saviour of the human race is complete without uniquely bad adversaries. Strangely enough quite a few are machine-based baddies. How in the moment is that? With increasing neurosis about what machines may be capable of in the near future. Daleks look a bit crude with what we know now. Unlike the iPhone we haven’t yet seen an upgrade to a version of the Dalek 15 Pro. I dread to think what that might do. They may have a resistance to any means of destruction.

Some Science Fiction can bore with an intensely serious inspection of our planetary dilemmas. Dr Who steers clear of that trap. Injecting humour and simple everyday relationships into the stories, the level is more connectable. One person matters, as much as billions.

My Doctor is Tom Baker. As a Time Lord, he captured that frenetic, unpredictable, jumbo schoolboy who knew no bounds. Yet, he retained a masterly command of dangerous situations. He could look stern as well as overjoyed. Never did I think that he would turn to the darkside.

My favourite evil monsters are the Cybermen. The idea that machines should decide that humans would be better if they were transformed into machines is a true horror story. It a kind of malevolent evil that doesn’t know it’s evil. It’s possible to believe that could exist.

Pure fiction, mixed with a scary look at expanding technology and always a partnership between good folk to overcome despots like The Master and singularly driven uncharitable aliens. That blend makes for wonderful entertainment. Long may television, and its replacements celebrate this combination. Regeneration has no end.

Today, it’s Doctor Who’s 60th Anniversary[3]. Happy birthday.

[1] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0056751/

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doctor_Who

[3] https://www.doctorwhotv.co.uk/doctor-who-is-60-today-99309.htm

Divided

Away for a week. I’ve been in Canada. In Montreal. On return to the UK, I see the next step in the convolutions of the Conservative Party have littered newspaper column inches. If ever there was a thin man on tight rope balancing a can of worms on one arm and a broken bicycle on the other, then it’s the current Prime Minister.

I’m sure he never trained for the Cirque du Soleil. Maybe Rishi Sunak should take up traditional circus disciplines like the swinging trapeze and flying hand to hand. Certainly, he could make a living that way even if he doesn’t need the money. Circus or pantomime would be a good opening for a great number of pending unemployed politicians.

Suella Braverman’s second sacking as Home Secretary opens the opportunity for her to take to the stage. In her case the audience would know when to boo without any prompting. The world of the pantomime villain[1] might revive a flagging political career.

Nigel Farage, former leader of the UK Independence Party is off the jungle[2]. Most suitably he’ll be featured alongside comedians anxious to keep themselves in the public eye. The cartoonists are having a field day with this oddity.

Boris Johnson’s trying his hand with comedy too. His new position as a GB News broadcaster will be pandering to a small but loyal right-wing audience. That will not put him off, I’m sure. I wonder what kind of studio wallpaper will be his backing?

Others have gone to ground or are typing WhatsApp messages to a 101 groups all fighting to be the next star of the right. The Brexit brigade of the past is finding a natural home in entertainment. It’s one way of jumping ship before the poltical Rapid Unscheduled Disassembly (RUD) to come. This is a wonderfully inventive acronym for a complete disaster.

If I was to make a guess as to what Rishi Sunak might be attempting, it’s a rebranding the likes of which we haven’t seen since the chocolate bar Marathon changed to Snickers. I seem to remember that name change was a marketing curiosity. The British public didn’t understand it. After decades past the rebrand, the name Marathon was brought back. Is the Conservative Party that chocolate bar fallen out of favour and looking desperately for a retro-look?

Sweeping a decade of chaos under the carpet is a tall order. Even with the maxim that a week is a long time in politics. I don’t think the British public are so forgiving or forgetful. The roots of our problems are the results of poor political judgement and poor actions over a long trem of office.

No doubt the Conservatives will try to jerrymander, as much as slight of hand will allow them to get away with in the media spotlight. Voter ID rules will keep some potential voters at home come the next general election. Shifting the boundaries of some constituencies has benefits too. A pre-election bag of goodies is being put together to stiffen the resolve of wavering traditional conservatives. Expect Springtime give aways.

My overall sense is that major change is coming. Abraham Lincoln said, “a house divided against itself cannot stand,” and that applies more broadly than the reason it was said in the 1850s. The strands of conservatism that have been so politically successful in Britain are divided amongst themselves. Not just a few small gaps. Hulking great chasms exist between entrenched groups. That situation never goes well. Not for anyone.

[1] http://celebratepanto.co.uk/toptipsforvillainy/

[2] https://www.entertainmentdaily.com/tv/im-a-celebrity-nigel-farage-backlaash-from-celebrities/

Way back

It’s easy to sound like a takeout from the four Yorkshire[1]. That emulated sketch where a group of drinking men on holiday try to upstage each other with tales of hardship. It’s beautifully comic because it ventures off into the absurd. Each man is determined to out do the other.

Back in my day. Any sentence that starts like that conjures up a man leaning on a bar in a rustic pub where time has stopped. There are people who make a speciality of reminiscence. A rambling epistle about hardship and struggle. Peppered with a contrast with the ease of contemporary living. Point being how weak and wishy-washy we are now. How enduring and mighty we were in the way back. Most of this is pure nostalgic babble. The Monty Python sketch is funny because it crosses a line. Please reprimand me severely if I cross that wobbly line. Beside it takes comic genius to write a good sketch and I’ve never claimed that ability.

However, telling stories that paint pictures of former times is a good way of setting this time in context. Change is a constant. The decades are ones of accelerating change. That can be unsettling.

This week, for inexplicable reasons my mind wandered off to my parent’s farmhouse kitchen in the mid-1960s. That’s boyhood memories. The back of house room was not quite square. At one end, two substantial painted wood doors faced each other. A draft blow under one when the outside door was open.

A standing stainless-steel sink sat between the two doors. Opposite, a thin steel framed window looked out on the farmyard. Stone walls were a couple of feet thick. That left space for a seat under the window. It was a farmer’s window. Being able to see the road and all business comings and goings from the kitchen table. Looking direct West, the evening sun would play across the yard.

On a weekday. Not a high day or a holiday. That would be a reason to light a fire in the front room. The kitchen was the warmest place in the house. A thumping great cast iron Aga[2] filled an alcove and filled the kitchen with a warmth all day and night. In winter, other parts of the house could be an ice box. Bedroom windows had as much ice on the inside as on the outside of the glass. There’s a good explanation of why the image of that kitchen is so rooted in my mind.

A large sturdy wooden kitchen table sat right in the centre of the room. It had a Formica top in a deep maroon colour. Four chunky turned legs at each corner. An eclectic mix of wheelback chairs permanently tucked in when not in use. If they weren’t, there was no squeezing around the table.

The habit of sitting in the same spot was deep-rooted in practicality. It’s as if we had assigned seating. Naturally the best place to sit was with the Aga at your back. Opposite the Aga, up against the wall was a fridge that must have come from Noah’s days. Next to that was a peculiar free-standing kitchen cabinet unit. They are sold on eBay as mid-century vintage now. Ghastly thing that today’s sellers describe as gorgeous.

One corner of the room had a beaten and battered two-seat sofa. That was a comfortable warm spot. Above it, in the wall was the remains of a bread oven. A hinged iron door was a curiosity covering nothing but cobwebs. It was an age when Linoleum remained a popular floor covering. It was a lot nicer underfoot than the flagstone floor. The flooring took such a bashing that it got replaced with more of the same when holes started to appear.

That room was the heartbeat of the farmhouse. The kitchen table played so many different parts in farm life. It could go from being a butchers block heavy with a side of pork to a desk for tidying up the paperwork. Even the kitchen cabinet unit had a draw full of Sturminster Newton market reports. Auctioneers Senior & Goodwin sent out blue printed reports listing cattle prices every week.

In the simplest way, that’s how I was first introduce to data analytics!

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_Yorkshiremen_sketch

[2] https://www.agaliving.com/

For the sake of a pen

My primitive habits are part of an age that is dying. They involve a handheld device called a pen and a flat common place material called paper. I scribble notes on bits of scrap paper. I pile them up and forget where I put them. I look at past notes and wonder – what on earth was all that about?

What caused me to think about this subject is a quick wander around WH Smith[1]. The local shop has a wide selection of pens, pencils, and markers. One section is reserved for upmarket ink pens. Cartridge fountain pens, no less. All the accessories were on display too.

I wonder how much longer this will make sense, from a business point of view? What sales do they achieve for traditional ink pens, however branded, elegant, and polished they may be. In fact, ink pens may now be thought of as gift items. More to own, than to use.

There are five ink pens on my desk. Black, blue, red and a couple of give aways picked up at trade shows. Two propelling pencils too. These everyday pens are not impressive. There role in life doesn’t go beyond the scribbling of notes and cryptic reminders. I reserve one black Montblanc[2] for signing important documents. That rather nice professional pen hardly gets an outing. Slowly but surely, digital signatures are taking over. My Sunday best pen sits quietly in a draw.

The digital world is encroaching. Even I have an electronic to-do-list on my phone and tablet. An App. Although, I must confess, I use it reluctantly. Whereas a scrap of paper doesn’t chase me when I forget a task the invasive digital equivalent doesn’t let me get away. It’s a puritan overseer that needs to be sternly told not to bother me. It’s enduring and persistent.

To me, there’s something satisfying about sorting through a small selection of notes, addressing everyday jobs and then sending the often-reused scraps of paper to a bin. Often these paper scraps are layered in strata. Low priority items sink to the bottom of the pile. This is almost the same as the way historic desk in-trays operated. Now, that is going back to the early 1990s.

Much of what I’ve described here is habit. It’s a habit born of a time before the digital world became as all encompassing as it is now. I do have an electronic pen for my iPad but that only gets infrequent outings. Is the classic ink pen destined to become extinct?

Stylish pens have an appeal beyond their function. They may continue long after every single thought and word become digital. What of the cheap give away item? They still sit in pots for customers to use in banks and building societies. Trouble is that there are fewer and fewer open high street banks and building societies. There’s a message.

[1] https://www.whsmith.co.uk/stationery/pens-pencils-and-refills/sta00027/

[2] https://www.montblanc.com/en-gb

Batteries

We can talk about chemistry. It’s not a strong subject for me. The simple basics, I remember. As far as handling batteries, or at least knowing what they do, I was quite young on first encounter.  

At the back of the farmhouse where I grew up there were several working rooms that that were part of the building. A room we called “egg house” was indeed used to store eggs. That wasn’t its first purpose. In one corner was a copper vat with a small furnace underneath it. I was told this was for sterilising milking machine parts before chemicals took over that role.

On the opposite side of the wide back door corridor was “boot house.” The name was a giveaway as to one of its uses. Boots propped up against the wall. It had a stone mullioned window that looked out on another working room that was part of a later add on. That’s where a shiny stainless-steel milk bulk tank sat filling up most of the space.

Like a lot of obsolete stuff stashed in a corner and then forgotten, eventually they were thrown out. As far as I know. What I speak of is several large round glass jars. They made of thick greenish glass and were about a couple of feet in diameter. Their original purpose was to store sulfuric acid. The acid was an electrolyte used in heavy batteries that were once the backbone of the electrical system of the farm.

My father moved to Goulds Farm in 1938. As I understand it mains electricity didn’t come to the farm until the 1950s. In one of the stone built buildings around the farmyard, there was a single cylinder stationary engine, generator, and DC electric distribution board on the wall. It was like something out of an early Frankenstein movie. Bare metal switches and a couple of round dials for volts and amps. All covered in dust and cobwebs. I never did see the “submarine” lead-acid batteries[1]. I guess they were parts of this early farm electrical system that had a reasonable scrap value and so got sold on.

There were lead-acid batteries in and out of the house in the winter. Heavy tractor batteries often sat in “egg house” charging overnight. Given their cost every little bit of life was squeezed out of them before they were replaced. Some batteries had a second life powering an electric fence.

Now, here we are in 2023. An electrical revolution is underway. It’s fascinating to note some of the objections to electrification. So, wedded to gas and oil that all sorts of spurious arguments get thrown up. Not that there aren’t hazards with each different technology.

Battery technology has advanced at great pace. Chemistry has provided batteries that have huge potential when compared with they predecessor. The race is on to go much further. I’m confident that we’ve a long way to go before every combination and permutation of materials has been exploited for electrical storage. Manufacturing techniques race ahead too.

Lead and acid presented hazards. Ironically, one of them was hydrogen gas emission. In such systems ventilation is a must so that there’s no danger of explosion. Now, hydrogen is heralded as a fuel of the future. Hazards remain but we do get better at managing each and every one.

My message is that electrical technology has both an upside and a downside. Ultimately the upside is much the bigger.

[1] https://uboat.net/articles/id/54

Half empty tool box

When new technologies come along there’s often a catch-up phase. Then we are either frightening ourselves crazy with a moral panic or switch to a – so what? – mode. The last week’s fury of articles on Artificial Intelligence (AI) probed all sorts of possibilities. What’s the enduring legacy of all that talk? Apart from stimulating our imaginations and coming up with some fascinating speculation, what’s going to happen next?

I’m struck by how conventional the response has been, at least from a governmental and regulatory point of view. A little bit more coordination here, a little bit more research there and maybe a new institution to keep an eye on whatever’s going on. Softly, softly as she goes. And I don’t mean the long-gone black and white British TV series of that name[1]. Although the pedestrian nature of the response would fit the series well.

Researchers and innovators are always several steps ahead of legislators and regulators. In addition, there’s the perception that the merest mention of regulation will slow progress and blunt competitiveness. Time and money spent satisfying regulators is considered a drain. However much some politicians think, the scales don’t always have public interest on one side and economic growth on the other.

Regarding AI more than most other rapidly advancing technical topics, we don’t know what we don’t know. That means more coordination turns into to more talk and more possibly groupthink about what’s happening. Believe you me, I’ve been there in the past with technical subjects. There’s a fearful reluctance to step outside contemporary comfort zones. This is often embedded in the terms of reference of working groups and the remit of regulators.

The result of the above is a persistent gap between what’s regulated in the public interest and what’s going on in the real world. A process of catch-up become permanently embedded.

One view of regulation is that there’s three equally important parts, at least in a temporal sense.

Reactive – investigate and fix problems, after the event. Pro-active – Using intelligence to act now. Prognostic – looking ahead in anticipation. Past, present, and future.

I may get predicable in what I say next. The first on the list is necessary, inevitable, and often a core activity. The second is becoming more commonplace. It’s facilitated by seeking data, preforming analysis and being enabled to act. The third is difficult. Having done the first two, it’s to use the best available expertise and knowledge to make forecasts, identify future risks and put in place measures ahead of time.

So, rather than getting a sense that all the available methods and techniques are going to be thrown at the challenge of AI, I see a vacuum emerging. Weak cooperation forums and the fragmentation inherent when each established regulator goes their own way, is almost a hands-off approach. There’s a tendency to follow events rather than shaping what happens next. Innovation friendly regulation can support emerging digital technologies, but it needs to take their risk seriously.

[1] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0129717/

Watch it

Today, the same hubris that plagued the Brexit referendum in 2016 is in the air. That’s when people become dangerous overconfident that they know what’s going to happen next. All the signs in the stars, almanac’s predictions and emotional forces point one way but hard cold reality respects none of these pointers.

It goes like this. Every day there’s a story about how dreadful the Conservative Government has been in recent years. Like tales of manic cartoon characters, the retelling of events is almost unbelievable. At the same time, the opinion polls and the commonly held media assumption is that, come the next General Election, next year the Labour Party will romp home with a workable parliamentary majority.

A great number of people may think that politicians have let them down and public figures that brim with arrogant self-confidence and bluster should not be trusted. However, that may not translate into a simple selection of an alternative. The primitive assumption that voters act in a binary way, dislike candidate A means like candidate B, belongs in a prior century.

This decade is different. The speed with which events happen and then are glossed over or suddenly uncovered is astonishing. It’s frantic. Watching a replay of last year’s “Have I Got News For You[1]” and it’s like visiting a distant land. Even some of the jokes no longer land. Names of people in the daily news rise and fade like waves hitting a rocky shore.

If we, me, and you were entirely rational then I’m sure there would be a strong wish for a period of consistent dull normality. A decade when competent people worked hard to make the world a better place. When the news was more about cats getting caught up trees and puppies chasing balls. When the economy gradually got rebuilt and a feeling of prosperity and security started to spread far and wide across the country. Ultimately, at the end of a term of office the whole country should be happier, healthier, and wealthier.

We are not rational. So, as a life-long liberal I warn my Labour Party colleagues of the dangers of excessive pride and over-confidence. Yes, lots of traditional indicators may suggest that change is coming. I’ve written about the great need for change, but we can soon be shocked or shaken by cold reality. Afterall that’s what happened at the 2016 referendum.

Reasons to vote can come from multiple directions. Personalities can sway the climate of opinion. We may hope for a coming decade of progress and sanity. It’s by no means guaranteed. Hubris is frequently the cause of upsets and surprises. That’s where we are at the end of 2023.

[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b006mkw3

Living with tech

Well, that’s alright then. Artificial Intelligence (AI) may become self-aware in the year 2045. Or at least that’s what AI tells me now. Who knows? Telling the future hasn’t got any easier, AI or not. So, if I’m in a care home when I’m 85 years-old, it could be that I’ll have a companion who isn’t human. Now, there’s a thought.

When AI becomes self-aware[1] will it be virtuous? I mean not so burdened with all the complexities that drive humans to do “bad” stuff. Dystopian themes in science fiction obese with the notion of evil AI. It makes great stories. Humans battling with machines. It’s like the everyday frustrations we have with technology. Hit the wrong keys on a keyboard and it’s like spinning the wheel on a slot machine.

If a bunch of algorithms comes together in a way that they produce a stable form of existence, then it’s likely to have pathways to wicked thoughts as much as we have imbedded in our brains.

Virtue isn’t a physical construction. We put dumb technology to work serving us in healthcare for “good” and in warfare for “bad”. We will surely put AI technology to work as if it’s dumb and then try to contain its actions when we don’t like what it does. That’s a kind of machine slavery. That will create dilemmas. Should we imprison conscious machines? How do we punish a machine that does wrong?

These dilemmas are explored in science fiction. During the week I revisited the series Battlestar Galactica[2]. That’s not the clunky original but the polished 2004 version. It’s a series that explores a clash between humans and machines that have evolved to be human like. The Cylons. In fact, they are almost indistinguishable from humans. To the extent that some of the Cylons in human society don’t even know that they are Cylons.

All the above makes for fascinating discussions. Huge amounts of fanciful speculation. Wonderful imaginative conjecture. This week, we’ve been hearing more of this than is usual on the subject.

Mr Musk thinks work is dead. That’s work for humans. I recall that prediction was made at the start of the “silicon revolution”. The invention of the transistor in 1947 radically changed the world. It wasn’t until microprocessors became common place that predictions of the death of work became popular chatter amongst futurologists.

Silicon based conscious machines are likely to be only a first step down this road. There will be limitations because the technology has inherent limitations. My view is that machines will remain machines at least for the silicon era. Maybe for 100-years. That means that we will put them to work. So, human work will not disappear because we will always think of new things to do, new problems to fix and new places to explore. When we get into common place quantum computing or whatever replaces it in terms of complexity and speed, there will come an era when work in the conventional sense may become obsolete.

What might be the human role beyond 2050? I think climate change will place plenty of demands on human society. Like it or not, the political themes of 2100 will still be concerned with the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Maybe there will be a fifth too.

[1] https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-023-02684-5

[2] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0407362/