Myths and Machines, part 6
Welcome back to our sixth installment of “Myths and Machines,” where we continue to unravel the connections between ancient myth and cutting-edge technology. This week, we dive into the romantic but cautionary tale of Pygmalion and Galatea, a story that challenges our understanding of love and artificiality in an era captivated by AI.
(Previous texts: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5.)
Pygmalion and Galatea: Falling in love with your own creations
In Greek mythology, Pygmalion, a sculptor par excellence, crafted a statue so flawless and enchanting that he fell irrevocably in love with his own creation. Named Galatea, she was the ideal of feminine grace, frozen in ivory. Overcome by a love that bordered on obsession, Pygmalion appealed to Aphrodite, the goddess of love. Moved by his devotion, Aphrodite breathed life into the inanimate Galatea, transforming her into a living woman. The myth ends on a note of rare mythological bliss in the Greek legends, with Pygmalion and Galatea finding true happiness together.
Today, as we edge closer to making AI as commonplace as smartphones, the story of Pygmalion and Galatea finds new resonance. Modern technology allows us to create AI companions — sophisticated, responsive, seemingly understanding — crafted to meet our deepest social and emotional needs. These digital Galateas are designed to simulate companionship, yet, like Pygmalion’s statue, they might challenge our notions of what is real in relationships.
Such AI agents can offer emotional support, serving as confidants and virtual companions to those grappling with loneliness or isolation. They listen, respond, and never turn away, providing a constant presence that many find comforting. Yet, the emotional bonds that some may form with these AIs bring us to a crucial question: can relationships with entities that simulate affection but do not genuinely feel offer true fulfillment, or are they merely a facade? And does it matter…?
Pygmalion’s story is a double-edged sword. It is a romantic narrative that fulfills the longing for perfect love, yet it also serves as a stark reminder of the dangers of loving one’s own creation too deeply. Falling in love with an AI can be akin to falling in love with an idea of a person — perfect, compliant, crafted to specifications, but ultimately, a creation of the mind. This might lead us to ponder: Does the perfection of digital companions detract from the imperfect, challenging, yet richer relationships with real human beings?
Moreover, the proliferation of AI companions might shift societal norms around relationships and intimacy. As these digital entities become more integrated into daily life, the line between human and artificial interaction blurs, potentially reshaping how we view connections and community. This shift could transform everything from family dynamics to how empathy is expressed and experienced.
Humans form relationships with AI whether we want it or not. We can’t help it, since we have always engaged in anthropomorphism – the attribution of human qualities in non-human entities. But, it’s crucial to remember that unlike Pygmalion, we cannot count on divine intervention to imbue our digital creations with genuine life and emotion. Instead, we must design with a clear understanding of the boundaries between human and machine, reality and fantasy.
Resources
- Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel “Klara and the Sun”
- The movie “Her” by Spike Jonze. (It’s no coincidence that OpenAI’s avatar voice for GPT-4o sound(ed?) just like Scarlett Johansson, who plays the digital assistant in the movie.)
- Research paper: Chandra Kruse, L., Bergener, K., Conboy, K., Lundström, J. E., Maedche, A., Sarker, S., Seeber, I., Stein, A., & Tømte, C. E. (2023). Understanding the Digital Companions of Our Future Generation. Communications of the Association for Information Systems, 52, 465–479. https://doi.org/10.17705/1CAIS.05218
Next up
One that didn’t settle for an ivory statue, but actually crossed the border of the living into the Underworld to bring his love back from the dead was Orpheus. Join in for the next text on Orpheus and Eurydice. We’ll explore how the legend of Orpheus’s descent into the Underworld to retrieve his beloved Eurydice mirrors our own ventures into the depths of data and the consequences of defying essential boundaries.
Are we, like Orpheus, playing a dangerous game with our desire to push technological boundaries, potentially leading to unforeseen consequences? Let’s find out in the next chapter of “Myths and Machines.”
