Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Thomas Wynne on Hiroshi Yamamoto's The Stories of Ibis


“’The accident happened right after I was born, so it doesn’t bother me much. Plus, I have MUGEN Net now. When I’m online, I’m able to live just the way the normal people do. I can go window shopping, see movies, read books. I really love being able to read words that aren’t in Braille.’” (84)
            Yamamoto, The Stories of Ibis, “A Romance in Virtual Space”

“’Yeah,’ I nodded. ‘They probably couldn’t bear the solitude. So they created fantasies to escape reality.’
            ‘But those stories aren’t any less valuable than the truth. At least the heroine recognized that.’” (60)
            Yamamoto, The Stories of Ibis, Intermission 2


Selecting a quote from this work that genuinely reflected the author’s thesis was a bit difficult because the first half of the book is essentially a collection of short stories with a parallel narrative woven between them to tie them together. The first quote comes from the second story in the book, in which a young girl who spends much of her time in a virtual reality world is later revealed to be blind. This girl is able to experience things in this world that she could never experience in the real world because of her disability. I feel that this quote accurately describes in microcosm the point the author is making. The technology in “A Romance in Virtual Space” is referred to often as problematic. Addiction is mentioned, and the interface devices even feature a recommended daily use limit to assuage fears of radiation poisoning. For the girl, however, none of these fears matter because this device is also the only way that she could ever experience the sensation of sight. The goals of this quote and this story are to highlight the amazing potential a technology like virtual reality has to better the human experience in spite of all of the unfounded fears around it. When looking at the book as a whole, we see each story has a revelation much like the one from which this quote is derived, and each tells a story that downplays the modern fear of technology by presenting a scenario where the technology in question has a positive impact on the lives of those interfacing with it. In this regard, the position of the author is exposed and the closest thing to a thesis can be excavated from the text, as it were; specifically, that technology is not to be feared.

The second quote is important as well, because it makes clear the means by which Yamamoto is conveying his message. The narrator raises the same point this quote makes very often in the early intermissions following the stories and as such draws attention to why the author is using the narrative devices he is using. The author uses powerful, positive fictional stories to act as counter-points to the aspects of modern or theoretical technology that people fear. Yamamoto is trying to make the reader question, “Are the technologies that so many fear really that frightening?” After all, most of the fears of the public are founded upon fiction in the first place.

Yamamoto does this by pantomiming this dialogue by pitting the skeptical narrator against the knowledgeable Ibis. In this instance, the narrator takes the place of the reader (this is even alluded to a few times, when Ibis explains that when reading a story the reader essentially role-plays the main character, or narrator) and the author takes the place of Ibis, explaining a world where these technologies can be used positively. The debate between the two of them is essentially the author responding to the skeptical, fearful public as well as the obvious problem his approach of using fictional works presents, namely “It’s all fiction, why does it matter?”

These debates are punctuated by stories that Yamamoto intricately weaves together of progressively more abstract science fiction told in such a way that a problematic technology is introduced then solved by a story, which then also introduces another problematic technology to be solved in another story. In doing so, he is making a case that these technologies aren’t as bad as people fear. The first story deals with society’s dubious stance on virtual Internet communities and explains how the bonds formed in these communities are just as real as those formed in “real life.” This also serves as a great frame for the author’s technique, ending with the quote, “An escape from reality? Laugh if you want. To be certain, no such vessel named the Celestial existed in real life. But the bond, faith, and friendship of the crew were undeniably real.” The other stories deal similarly with virtual reality, virtual communities, and artificial intelligence.

While the author’s stance on the fear of these technologies is fairly clear, it can also be reasoned that this piece is a reaction to other fictional works and popular tropes across a variety of media. The concept of internet/virtual world addiction is a fairly hot topic in the news right now, with many news stations decrying the freedom, privacy, and escape both the Internet and virtual worlds grant as potentially dangerous. Many people also believe that the technologies Yamamoto writes about could easily be used to control the population and create dystopian futures as with Brave New World, and Noir. Then we have the giant cloud of fear surrounding AI. Countless movies, books, videogames, and TV shows have been made with networked AIs as the ultimate antagonist. To name a few, Terminator, Star Trek, and System Shock come to mind. (The intro to System Shock 2 serves as an interesting example of a female AI less enlightened than Ibis - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MXPn6wcsUmk ) There are plenty of fictional works that capitalize on this fear to create an interesting narrative. Yamamoto seems to almost be moving in direct opposition to these works, however, glorifying sentient machines and VR while demonizing the people who dismiss the technologies as silly or dangerous. The detective in the first story, for instance, reminded me exactly of the naysayers of yesteryear who looked at children and adults reading comic books and playing video games as ridiculous, unable to see the point. The “color timer” on the VR interface in the second story mirrored the apprehension in the news surrounding cell phone radiation. The fear that a child could be addicted to Internet communication or a virtual world thusly stunting their social interaction also comes up in the third story, “Mirror Girl.” All of the tales Ibis tells have some level of commentary on recent events.

This is essentially the “limit” of the text. Yamamoto generates a compelling counter to the fear-driven technological fiction and theory of other authors, but never directly says that the more positive world and stories he has crafted represents the way it will or must be. The result is a planting of a seed of doubt – doubt that the creation of AI or virtual reality really will be the end of human civilization. It is up to the reader to then form his own opinion on what must be done, given the possibilities of such technology. As such, the question that Yamamoto raises about the validity of this technophobia still stands. This novel does a very good job of being a counterbalance to the more prevalent fictions where technology can result in the destruction of humanity or freedom, and while it often presents technology in a positive light, it also does so with reservation. The AI in “Mirror Girl” is an enlightened, radiant being because it was essentially raised with humanity’s best intentions in mind. In this story, Yamamoto likens AI to a child. This makes a few logical leaps, but the allegory is fairly powerful. After all, children can turn into terrors, and eventually into vile people, but to what extent is that the fault of the parent? How would a new intelligence be anything but innocent until it is taught otherwise? In this regard, Yamamoto seems to subscribe to the school of thought that humanity is ultimately behind whether or not our technologies will destroy us, not the technologies themselves.

While this doesn’t answer the question of whether fear of powerful technologies like AI is well founded, it does strike at the heart of the issue, and allows us to look at it from a different angle. Are these technologies to be feared, or is mankind’s irresponsibility that is frightening? Do we trust each other enough to believe that an AI would take on the selfless qualities of its creators? Do we love life and each other enough to prevent our society from being consumed by a virtual world? There will be a time when some of the fiction in this book becomes reality. When that time comes, will we be ready? I'd like to think that we will be, that humanity is mature enough as a species to leave behind its questionable history. Although the book raises another possibility as we see in "A World Where Justice Is Just" - perhaps we are just as dangerous as we seem to think, but maybe the machines and AIs that we create will end up saving us from ourselves... hopefully before there is nothing left to save. 

Finally, this book immediately made me think about a humorous, but equally curious video I stumbled upon a while ago. The video is part of a series entitled, “Kids React” and in this particular case, the video shows children reacting to a huge Japanese concert in which the star performer is actually a computer-generated image with a computer-generated voice (KIDS REACT to Hatsune Miku http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egcfC7PCneQ ). The concert itself had a massive showing (as can be seen in the video) but the children seem taken aback by the fact that the “artist” isn’t real, going so far as to say, “It isn’t music because it isn’t made by a person.” It’s a very striking dichotomy of a culture that embraces new and interesting technology like this and one that is inherently skeptical of it. Also, one of the first comments made by the children is, of course, “Robots are going to take over.” Upon reflection, if this is where AI and VR are headed, I wonder if we have anything to worry about at all.

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