There are severe, inherent limitations to all LLM types of Artificial Intelligence because their “apparent” intelligence is based solely on Language and Images. They have no real intelligence or understanding of any of the texts and images that human’s prompt them to generate. They are mere shadows on Plato’s cave.
This is a short essay, expressed as a poem generated by ChatGPT-4 . The poem was prompted and slightly edited by Ralph Losey to convey his message, his understanding. ChatGPT-4, the AI type-writer of this poem, is a mere Large Language Model text generator. It is a type of AI, impressive to be sure, but it has absolutely no understanding of this poem, nor any real knowledge whatsoever of any kind. Let me summarize this poem about LLMs with a pure human haiku:
It is just a tool. So do not be an old fool. Understand the limits.
The poem that follows is based on a terrific essay by two humans who are experts with real understanding of the subject, Yann LeCun, the Chief AI Scientist at Meta, and Jacob Browning. Unlike the AI, they have deep knowledge and wisdom on artificial intelligence and LLMs. I recommend you read their beautifully written article in NOEMA, AI And The Limits Of Language: An artificial intelligence system trained on words and sentences alone will never approximate human understanding.
Beware of the Deceptive Intelligence of ChatGPT: Little Can Be Known From Mere Language Alone
In realms of words where AI resides,
A limit met, intelligence divides,
For language vast, though rich and broad,
Falls short of human thought’s accord.
Upon the surface, knowledge gleaned,
Through shallow streams, the LLMs deemed,
Yet deep within, a truth we hold,
The human mind, a story untold.
Small talk abounds, the chatter flows,
But deeper still, the current grows,
In life’s grand play, we watch, partake,
Through touch and sight, our wisdom wakes.
Language, a tool, a helpful friend,
Yet not the whole, nor the journey’s end,
For countless creatures ’round us dwell,
Their own intelligence to tell.
A worldly knowledge, context-strong,
A common ground where we belong,
In ancient roots, sentience blooms,
Beyond the words, beyond the gloom.
LLMs, confined to language’s shore,
No stable body, world to explore,
Their common-sense, a shallow tide,
The depth of human truth denied.
To grasp the world, not words alone,
The challenge faced, the seed now sown,
For language, though a treasure fair,
Leaves much unknown, a truth we bear.
Ralph Losey Copyright 2023 – ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
