A Divine Move - AlphaGo
One of my best ways to start Saturday morning is to watch a Documentary. And I mean to start the day right after opening my eyes, before washing my face, brushing my teeth, or going to T.P. While the body lay still, attached to the bed and has the chance to roll and wake up, and my mind craves for attention. I ask, "what makes me human?"
The mind wants to feel grounded, rooted in the world. It seeks the events, stories, an adrenaline rush, and the "what" that tethers my soul to others. Humans. Yesterday, I wondered about the question, "how am I tethered to the human race, aside from knowing, speaking, and acting as humans do?" Perhaps work exhausted my mental energy to be in touch with reality. It had depleted, and I craved an excellent documentary like a good cup of coffee.
The human mind fascinates me. Precisely, the human ego. What does the ego do when evenly matched or even faced with a superior ego? What does the individual do in that scenario, knowing the differences? Succumb and admit defeat? Or fight with pride and cling to the minute hope of winning? Or, understanding the differences, the mind does nothing.
A.I. (Artificial Intelligence) is the epitome of humanity's ingenuity. It is tackling, facing, and finding solutions in a short amount of time to problems that we do not have the time to solve. Thus, minimizing efforts, trials, time, and repetitive processes that cost time. Ultimately, it will lead to prosperity and new challenges.
It's hard to pinpoint if A.I. helps Or makes us more prone to laziness.
On the other hand, human life is a complicated set of equations. And it changes based on locations, feelings, and the odd chances of inevitable doom occurring. But let's face it, the moment a baby is born, we are all prone to the inevitable destruction; otherwise, tragedy's wouldn't exist. Right?
The documentary is about a tech company inventing an A.I. to face against a nine-dot Go Player. Go is an ancient board game with black and white marble pieces. Two players, one black, one white, use strategy and tactics to occupy the board space. And the one who can control the board space wins the game. AlphaGo is a project by DeepMind, a partner of Google.
At the beginning of the documentary, I was thrilled to see a group of humans creating software from scratch. It's like watching a mother giving birth to a kid, something beautiful. And I felt proud that this is advancing the human race, even by just a little. And the chance that a group of programmers creating a program to fight against a skilled Go player made me cringe with excitement. That's amazing...I thought.
Throughout the project, the programmers of AlphaGo advanced. Ever so slightly, they fixed the bugs, the glitches and assisted the A.I. to an optimal standard, where it faced a two-dot Go champion. AlphaGo was doing well, improving from the modification and changes. As the story progressed, I felt a rush of energy. How much the group has been struggling to make the A.I. near perfection. I rooted for the project, and on the day it faced the best Go player in the world, I wanted the Go Player to lose.
The short-lived expectations became true. In the first three matches, the Go player, Lee Sedol, lost. Defeat seemed inevitable, and, out of five games, A.I. was going to win. It will win, based on the performance. The A.I made moves that seemed unpredictable, a 1/1000 chance of playing an action happened. The crowds were shocked; even the best of the best was shocked.
Knowing little about Go, I felt proud along with the programmers. Then I realized I discarded Lee Sedol's feelings. The guy who worked hard to become the best in Go holds the title and now lost to a program. Lee is fighting for humans, and he is fighting against a robot, an A.I., created by humans. My feelings changed. I felt an absolute necessity to root for Lee. And I asked myself, "WHY?"
Emotions overwhelmed me. At the beginning of the tournament, Lee spoke with absolute confidence that can win against the A.I. At the mercy, he lost three times in a row. Lee Sedol uttered words with a broken spirit. He underestimated the A.I., and that he is unsure if he can play the fourth and fifth match, knowing it might leave a permanent psychological effect on him.
I questioned my standing. How come I, too, feel the effect of Lee Sedol's feeling? Where is this empathetic side of me making me teary-eyed? After taking a 15-minutes break from the movie, I thought hard. This movie is a testament to endurance. It is about Hope. It is about knowing that humanity prevails under extreme conditions.
On the day of the fourth match, Lee Sedol showed up. It wasn't about pride, and it wasn't about perseverance. It was about acceptance. He wanted to test himself, thus becoming someone who he too can surpass. So he battled the A.I. arduously. He made a move, and it was his 78th. Lee Sedol exceeded the A.I. with a movement that dropped an 8% probability of the A.I. winning. Lee Sedol won that game.
It made me think. When in extreme pressure, humanity comes on top with a slither of hope. Even when things have a .000001% probability, hope is there. Nothing is permanent, and nothing should be. We, the human race, live on probability and chances. Even when the odds are against us, we have a chance to win. And like myself, all the people who were tracking this match were excited and cheered for Lee.
What made me emotional was that. No matter the chances of us failing, losing, sucking, there is a chance: to prevail, overcome, and then win.
It brought me to question myself. There were times, situations, and events, where I had prevailed. How did I perceive myself? In circumstances that seemed dire and desperate, there was a slight chance that I had overcome. And thus, the caffeinated rush became my chance to ground myself in this world. That no matter how harsh the world maybe, I can win.
After the movie ended, I understood Lee Sedol's feelings. I understood what the programmers felt. The duality of life, and in nature, carries both hardship, triviality, and to balance it, win. And it takes a person to say yes to endurance, to be willing and open-minded. I am that person.
