The Future of Humanity by Michio Kaku
Astronomers suspect that the Oort Cloud could extend as far as three light-years from our solar system. That is more than halfway to the nearest stars, the Centauri triple star system, which is slightly more than four light-years from Earth. If we assume that the Centauri star system is also surrounded by a sphere of comets, then there might be a continuous trail of comets connecting it to Earth. It may be possible to establish a series of refueling stations, outposts, and relay locations on a grand interstellar highway. Instead of leaping to the next star in one jump, we might cultivate the more modest goal of “comet hopping” to the Centauri system. This thoroughfare could become a cosmic Route 66.
Creating this comet highway is not as far-fetched as it first may sound. Astronomers have been able to determine a fair amount of information about the size, consistency, and composition of comets. When Halley’s comet sailed by in 1986, astronomers were able to send a fleet of space probes to photograph and analyze it. Pictures showed a tiny core, about ten miles across, which was shaped like a peanut (meaning that, at some point in the future, the two pieces will break apart and Halley’s comet will become a pair of comets). Furthermore, scientists have been able to send space probes to fly through the tails of comets, and the Rosetta spacecraft was able to send a probe to land on one. Analysis of some of these comets shows that they have a hard rock/ice core, which may be strong enough to support a robotic relay station.
One day, robots may land on a distant comet in the Oort Cloud and drill into its surface. Minerals and metals from the core could be used to fashion a space station, and ice could be melted to provide drinking water, rocket fuel, and oxygen for astronauts.
What will we find if we succeed in venturing beyond the solar system? We are experiencing yet another paradigm shift in our understanding of the universe. We are constantly discovering Earth-like planets that may support some form of life in other star systems. Will we one day be able to visit these planets? Can we build starships capable of opening up the universe for human exploration? How?
PART II VOYAGE TO THE STARS
At some stage therefore we should have to expect the machines to take control.
—ALAN TURING
I’d be very surprised if anything remotely like this happened in the next one hundred to two hundred years.
—DOUGLAS HOFSTADTER
7 ROBOTS IN SPACE
The year is 2084. Arnold Schwarzenegger is an ordinary construction worker who is troubled by recurring dreams about Mars. He decides that he must venture to the planet to learn the origin of these dreams. He witnesses a Mars with bustling metropolises, gleaming glass-domed buildings, and extensive mining operations. An elaborate infrastructure of pipes, cables, and generators supplies the energy and oxygen for thousands of permanent residents.
Total Recall offers a compelling vision of what a city on Mars might look like: sleek, clean, and cutting-edge. However, there’s one small problem. Although these imaginary cities on Mars make great settings for Hollywood, building them with our current technologies would, in practice, break the budget of any NASA mission. Remember that initially, every hammer, every piece of paper, and every paper clip would have to be shipped to Mars, which is tens of millions of miles away. And if we travel beyond the solar system to the nearby stars, where swift communication with Earth is impossible, the problems only multiply. Instead of relying on the transportation of supplies from Earth, we must look for a way to develop a presence in space without bankrupting the nation.
The answer may lie in the use of fourth wave technologies. Nanotechnology and artificial intelligence (AI) may drastically change the rules of the game.
By the late twenty-first century, advances in nanotechnology should allow us to produce large quantities of graphene and carbon nanotubes, superlightweight materials that will revolutionize construction. Graphene consists of a single molecular layer of carbon atoms tightly bonded to form an ultra-thin, ultra-durable sheet. It is almost transparent and weighs practically nothing, yet is the toughest material known to science—two hundred times stronger than steel and stronger even than diamonds. In principle, you could balance an elephant on a pencil and then place the pencil point on a sheet of graphene without breaking or tearing it. As a bonus, graphene also conducts electricity. Already, scientists have been able to carve molecule-size transistors on sheets of graphene. The computers of the future might be made of it.
Carbon nanotubes are sheets of graphene rolled into long tubes. They are practically unbreakable and nearly invisible. If you built the suspension for the Brooklyn Bridge out of carbon nanotubes, the bridge would look like it was floating in midair.
If graphene and nanotubes are such miracle materials, why haven’t we used them for our homes, bridges, buildings, and highways? At the moment, it is exceedingly difficult to produce large quantities of pure graphene. The slightest impurity or imperfection at the molecular level can ruin its miraculous physical properties. It is difficult to produce sheets larger than a postage stamp.
But chemists hope that by the next century, it might be possible to mass-produce it, which would vastly decrease the cost of building infrastructure in outer space. Because it is so light, it could be shipped efficiently to distant extraterrestrial locales, and it might even be manufactured on other planets. Whole cities made from this carbon material may rise from the Martian desert. Buildings may look partially transparent. Space suits could become ultrathin and skintight. Cars would become super energy efficient because they would weigh very little. The entire field of architecture could be turned upside down with the coming of nanotechnology.
But even with such advances, who will do all the backbreaking dirty work to put together our settlements on Mars, our mining colonies in the asteroid belt, and our bases on Titan and exoplanets? Artificial intelligence may yield the solution.
AI: AN INFANT SCIENCE
In 2016, the field of artificial intelligence was electrified by the news that AlphaGo, DeepMind’s computer program, had beat Lee Sedol, the world champion of the ancient game of Go. Many had believed that this feat would require several more decades. Editorials began to wail that this was the obituary for the human race. The machines had finally crossed the Rubicon and would soon take over. There was no turning back.
AlphaGo is the most advanced game-playing program ever. In chess, there are, on average, about 20 to 30 moves you can make at any time, but for Go, there are about 250 possible moves. In fact, the total number of Go game configurations exceeds the total number of atoms in the universe. It was once thought to be too difficult for a computer to count all possible moves, so when AlphaGo managed to beat Sedol, it became an instant media sensation.
However, it soon became apparent that AlphaGo, no matter how sophisticated, was a one-trick pony. Winning at Go was all it could do. As Oren Etzioni, CEO of the Allen Institute for Artificial Intelligence, said, “AlphaGo can’t even play chess. It can’t talk about the game. My six-year-old is smarter than AlphaGo.” No matter how powerful its hardware is, you cannot go up to the machine, slap it on its back, congratulate it for beating a human, and expect a coherent response. The machine is totally unaware that it made scientific history. In fact, the machine does not even know that it is a machine. We often forget that today’s robots are glorified adding machines, without self-awareness, creativity, common sense, or emotions. They can excel at specific, repetitive, narrow tasks but fail at more complex ones that require general knowledge.
Although the field of AI is making truly revolutionary breakthroughs, we have to put its progress in perspective. If we compare the evolution of robots to that of rocketry, we see that robotics is beyond the stage that Tsiolkovsky was in—that is, beyond the phase of speculation and theorizing. We are well within the stage that Goddard propelled us into and are building actual prototypes that are primitive but can demonstrate that our basic principles are correct. However, we have yet to move into the next phase, the realm of von Braun, in which innovative, powerful robots w
So far, robots have been spectacularly successful as remote-controlled machines. Behind the Voyager spacecraft that sailed across Jupiter and Saturn, behind the Viking landers that touched down on the surface of Mars, behind the Galileo and Cassini spacecraft that orbited the gas giants, there was a dedicated crew of humans who called the shots. Like drones, these robots simply carried out the instructions of their human handlers at Mission Control in Pasadena. All the “robots” we see in movies are either puppets, computer animations, or remote-controlled machines. (My favorite robot from science fiction is Robby the Robot in Forbidden Planet. Although the robot looked futuristic, there was a man hidden inside.)
But because computer power has been doubling every eighteen months for the past few decades, what can we expect in the future?
NEXT STEP: TRUE AUTOMATONS
Moving forward from remote-controlled robots, our next goal is to design true automatons, robots that have the ability to make their own decisions requiring only minimal human intervention. An automaton would spring into action whenever it hears, say, “Pick up the garbage.” This is beyond the ability of current robots. We will need automatons that can explore and colonize the outer planets mostly on their own, since it would take hours to communicate with them by radio.
These true automatons could prove absolutely essential to establishing colonies on distant planets and moons. Remember that for many decades to come, the population of settlements in outer space may number only a few hundred. Human labor will be scarce and at a premium, yet there will be intense pressure to create new cities on distant worlds. This is where robots can make up the difference. At first, their job will be to perform the “three D’s”—jobs that are dangerous, dull, and dirty.
For example, watching Hollywood movies, we sometimes forget how dangerous outer space can be. Even when working in low-gravity environments, robots will be essential to do the heavy lifting of construction, effortlessly carrying the massive beams, girders, concrete slabs, heavy machinery, etc., that are necessary to build a base on another world. Robots would be far superior to astronauts who have bulky space suits, frail muscles, slow body movements, and heavy oxygen packs. While humans are easily exhausted, robots can work indefinitely, day and night.
Furthermore, if there are accidents, robots can be easily repaired or replaced in a variety of dangerous situations. Robots can defuse dangerous explosives that are used to carve out new construction sites or highways. They can walk through flames to rescue astronauts if there is a fire or work in freezing environments on distant moons. They also require no oxygen, so there is no danger of suffocation, which is a constant threat for astronauts.
They can also explore dangerous terrains on distant worlds. For example, very little is known about the stability and structure of the ice caps of Mars or the icy lakes of Titan, yet these deposits could prove an essential source of oxygen and hydrogen. Robots could also explore the lava tubes of Mars, which might provide shielding from dangerous levels of radiation, or investigate the moons of Jupiter. While solar flares and cosmic rays may increase the incidence of cancer for astronauts, robots would be able to work even in lethal radiation fields. The robots can replace worn-out body modules that have been degraded by intense radiation by maintaining a special heavily shielded storehouse of spare parts.
In addition to doing dangerous jobs, robots can do dull ones, especially repetitive manufacturing tasks. Eventually, any moon or planetary base will require a large amount of manufactured goods, which can be mass-produced by robots. This will be essential in creating a self-sustaining colony that can mine local minerals to produce all the goods necessary for a moon or planetary base.
Lastly, they can also perform dirty jobs. They can maintain and repair the sewer and sanitation systems on distant colonies. They can work with toxic chemicals and gases that are found at recycling and reprocessing plants.
We see, therefore, that automatons that can function without direct human intervention will play an essential role if modern cities, roads, skyscrapers, and homes are to rise from desolate lunar landscapes and Martian deserts. However, the next question is, How far are we from creating true automatons? If we forget about the fanciful robots we see in the movies and in science fiction novels, what is the actual state of the technology? How long before we have robots that can create cities on Mars?
HISTORY OF AI
In 1955, a select group of researchers met at Dartmouth and created the field of artificial intelligence. They were supremely confident that, in a brief period of time, they could develop an intelligent machine that could solve complex problems, understand abstract concepts, use language, and learn from its experiences. They stated, “We think a significant advance can be made in one or more of these problems if a carefully selected group of scientists work on it together for a summer.”
But they made a crucial mistake. They were assuming that the human brain was a digital computer. They believed that if you could reduce the laws of intelligence to a list of codes and load them into a computer, it would suddenly become a thinking machine. It would become self-aware, and you could have a meaningful conversation with it. This was called the “top-down” approach, or “intelligence in a bottle.”
The idea seemed simple and elegant and inspired optimistic predictions. Great successes were made in the 1950s and 1960s. Computers could be designed to play checkers and chess, solve theorems from algebra, and recognize and pick up blocks. In 1965, AI pioneer Herbert Simon declared, “Machines will be capable, within twenty years, of doing any work a man can do.” In 1968, the movie 2001 introduced us to HAL, the computer that could talk to us and pilot a spaceship to Jupiter.
Then, AI hit a brick wall. Progress slowed to a crawl in the face of two main hurdles: pattern recognition and common sense. Robots can see—many times better than we can, in fact—but they don’t understand what they see. Confronted with a table, they perceive only lines, squares, triangles, and ovals. They cannot put these elements together and identify the whole. They don’t understand the concept of “tableness.” Hence it is very difficult for them to navigate a room, recognize the furniture, and avoid obstacles. Robots get totally lost when walking out on the street, where they encounter the blizzard of lines, circles, and squares that represent babies, cops, dogs, and trees.
The other obstacle is common sense. We know that water is wet, that strings can pull but not push, that blocks can push but not pull, and that mothers are older than their daughters. All this is obvious to us. But where did we pick up this knowledge? There is no line of mathematics that proves that strings cannot push. We gleaned these truths from actual experience, from bumping into reality. We learn from the “university of hard knocks.”
Robots, on the other hand, do not have the benefit of life experience. Everything has to be spoon-fed to them, line by line, using computer code. Some attempts have been made to encode every nugget of common sense, but there are simply too many. A four-year-old child intuitively knows more about the physics, biology, and chemistry of the world than the most advanced computer.
DARPA CHALLENGE
In 2013, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA), the branch of the Pentagon that laid the groundwork for the internet, issued a challenge to the scientists of the world: build a robot that can clean up the horrible radioactive mess at Fukushima, where three nuclear power plants melted down in 2011. The debris is so intensely radioactive that workers can only enter the lethal radiation field for a few minutes. As a result, the operation has been severely delayed. Officials are currently estimating that the cleanup will take thirty to forty years and cost about $180 billion.
If a robot can be built to clean up debris and garbage without human intervention, this could also be the first step toward creating a true automaton that can help to build a lunar base or a settlement on Mars, even in the presence of radiation.
Realizing that F
The rules were very clear and minimal. The winning robot had to be able to do eight simple tasks, including drive a car, remove debris, open a door, close a leaky valve, connect a fire hose, and turn a valve. Entries came pouring in from around the world as competitors vied for glory and the cash reward. But instead of ushering in a new era, the final results were a bit embarrassing. Many contestants failed to complete the tasks, and some even fell down in front of the cameras. The challenge demonstrated that AI had turned out to be quite a bit more complex than the top-down approach would suggest.
LEARNING MACHINES
Other AI researchers have abandoned the top-down method completely, instead choosing to mimic Mother Nature by going bottom up. This alternate strategy may offer the more promising road to creating robots that can operate in outer space. Outside of AI labs, sophisticated automatons can be found that are more powerful than anything we are able to design. These are called animals. Tiny cockroaches expertly maneuver through the forest, searching for food and mates. In contrast, our clumsy, hulking robots sometimes rip plaster off the walls as they lumber by.