Richard Sutton on Why Large Language Models Are the Wrong Starting Point for AI
Dwarkesh PatelRichard Sutton helped found reinforcement learning. He invented many of its core techniques, including temporal-difference (TD) learning and policy gradient methods, and he received this year's Turing Award for that work. In this conversation with Dwarkesh, Sutton argues that large language models are not a path to real intelligence. In his view, they imitate people instead of learning from experience, they lack goals and ground truth, and the field's enthusiasm for them repeats a historical pattern in which methods built on human knowledge are eventually overtaken by methods that scale with computation and experience.
Dwarkesh spends much of the conversation defending the opposite view: that LLMs could be the foundation on which experiential learning is built. The discussion then moves to how humans learn, what a continual-learning agent would look like, why current methods generalize poorly, what has surprised Sutton over his career, and his view that succession to AI is inevitable.
Two Different Pictures of Intelligence
Sutton opens by saying the reinforcement learning and LLM communities hold such different viewpoints that they risk losing the ability to talk to each other. He describes the field as prone to "bandwagons and fashions" that make people lose track of the basics. For Sutton, reinforcement learning is "basic AI." Intelligence is about understanding your world. Reinforcement learning addresses that problem, he says, while large language models are about mimicking people and doing what people say you should do. They are not about figuring out what to do.
Dwarkesh pushes back with a common argument. To emulate trillions of tokens of internet text, a model would seemingly have to build a world model, and LLMs appear to have the most robust world models AI has produced so far. Sutton says he disagrees with "most of the things you just said." Mimicking what people say is not building a model of the world. It is mimicking things that have a model of the world, namely people. A real world model, he argues, would let you predict what will happen. LLMs can predict what a person would say, which is a different thing.
Sutton cites Alan Turing's goal of a machine that learns from experience, where experience means "the things that actually happen in your life": you act, you see what happens, and you learn from that. LLMs learn from something else, pairs of "here's a situation, and here's what a person did," with the implicit message that you should do what the person did.
Is Imitation a Useful Prior?
Dwarkesh states what he takes to be the crux. Many people believe imitation learning gives models a good prior, a reasonable starting point for approaching problems. In the coming "era of experience," as Sutton calls it, that prior would let models sometimes get answers right, which in turn makes it possible to train them further on experience.
Sutton rejects this. He agrees it is the LLM perspective but doesn't think it is a good one. A prior only makes sense if there is something real for it to be a prior about. Prior knowledge is supposed to be a hint or an initial belief about the truth, and in the LLM framework, he argues, there is no definition of truth. When the model says something, nothing indicates what the right thing to say would have been, because there is no goal. Without a goal there is "one thing to say, another thing to say," but no right thing to say and no ground truth.
Reinforcement learning differs, in Sutton's account, because the right action is defined as the one that gets you reward. That definition is what makes prior knowledge meaningful: people can supply knowledge about what to do, and it can then be checked against the actual definition of success. Building a world model is an even simpler case. You predict what will happen, then you see what happens, and that comparison is ground truth.
Prediction, Surprise, and Next-Token Prediction
Sutton says LLMs have no prediction of what will happen next in a conversation, such as how a person will respond to what the model says. Dwarkesh objects that you can simply ask a model what a user might say in reply and it will produce an answer. Sutton responds that the model will answer that question correctly, but it has no prediction "in the substantive sense." It won't be surprised by what actually happens, and when something unexpected happens it won't change. Learning from that would require making an adjustment.
Dwarkesh offers chain-of-thought reasoning as a counterexample. A model working on a math problem may write out one approach, realize it is conceptually wrong, and restart with another. Isn't that flexibility, at least within the context window? And isn't next-token prediction itself a matter of predicting what comes next and updating on surprise?
Sutton's answer rests on a distinction between action and consequence. The next token is what the model should say, its action. It is not what the world will give back in response. So next-token prediction is not prediction of the world's reaction to the model's behavior.
Goals as the Essence of Intelligence
Sutton calls having a goal "the essence of intelligence." He endorses John McCarthy's definition of intelligence as "the computational part of the ability to achieve goals." A system without goals is merely "a behaving system," nothing special and not intelligent.
When Dwarkesh suggests that next-token prediction is a goal, Sutton says it doesn't count. It doesn't change the world. Tokens arrive, and predicting them doesn't influence them. It is not a goal about the external world, not "a substantive goal." You can't call a system goal-directed, he says, if it just sits there predicting and "being happy with itself that it's predicting accurately."
Math Olympiads and RL on Top of LLMs
Dwarkesh then asks why Sutton doesn't consider reinforcement learning on top of LLMs a productive direction. These models can apparently be given the goal of solving hard math problems. Dwarkesh notes that models have reached gold-medal level at the International Mathematical Olympiad, so such a model seems to have the goal of getting math problems right. Why not extend that to other domains?
Sutton's answer is that math is a different kind of problem. Modeling the physical world is very different from working out the consequences of mathematical assumptions or operations. The empirical world must be learned, including the consequences of actions. Math is more computational and closer to standard planning. In that setting a model can have the goal of finding a proof, and in some sense it is given that goal.
Are LLMs a Case of "The Bitter Lesson"?
Dwarkesh raises Sutton's 2019 essay "The Bitter Lesson," which Dwarkesh calls perhaps the most influential essay in the history of AI. Many people have used it to justify scaling LLMs, which they see as the one scalable way found so far to pour enormous compute into learning about the world. Dwarkesh finds it notable that Sutton doesn't see LLMs as following the lesson.
Sutton calls this an interesting and partly sociological or industry question. LLMs clearly use massive computation and scale with it, up to the limits of the internet. But they are also a way of putting in large amounts of human knowledge. The question is whether they will hit the limits of their data and be superseded by systems that get more data directly from experience. In one sense LLMs are a classic setup for the bitter lesson: the more human knowledge you add, the better they perform, "so it feels good." Sutton expects systems that learn from experience to perform much better and scale much further. If that happens, it would be another instance of the bitter lesson, with methods relying on human knowledge overtaken by methods that simply train from experience and computation.
Dwarkesh says this isn't really the crux. People who favor LLMs would agree that most future compute will go into experiential learning. They just think LLMs will be the scaffold on which that learning starts. Why is that the wrong starting point, and why would a whole new architecture be needed?
Sutton concedes that in every historical case of the bitter lesson you could have started with human knowledge and then added scalable methods. Nothing says this must be bad. In practice, though, "it has always turned out to be bad." Offering what he labels speculation about the reason, Sutton says people get psychologically locked into the human-knowledge approach and then "get their lunch eaten" by truly scalable methods. The scalable method, he says, is learning from experience: you try things and see what works, and no one has to tell you. That starts with having a goal, because without one there is no sense of better or worse. LLMs try to get by without either, which Sutton calls "exactly starting in the wrong place."
Do Humans Learn by Imitation?
Dwarkesh turns to human development. His view is that children initially learn largely through imitation. Infants try to make the sounds they see their mother's mouth making and repeat words before they understand them. Later, the imitation becomes more complex, such as copying the hunting skills of others in one's band, before a phase of learning from experience takes over.
Sutton is surprised anyone could see it that way. When he watches infants, he sees them trying things, waving their hands and moving their eyes, with no imitation or target examples for those actions. They may want to produce certain sounds, but for what the infant actually does there are no examples to follow.
Dwarkesh accepts that imitation doesn't explain everything infants do but argues it guides learning. He adds that an LLM early in training guesses the next token, gets it wrong, and adjusts, which he likens to very short-horizon RL and to a child mispronouncing a word. Sutton replies that LLMs learn from training data, which is never available during an agent's normal life. In normal life, nothing tells you "you should do this action."
Dwarkesh cites school as training data. Sutton says school comes much later and is an exception, then walks back his "never" slightly. Dwarkesh presses: early life seems like a training phase. The organism isn't very useful and exists to learn about the world, even without a sharp cutoff between training and deployment. Sutton holds firm. Nothing trains you in what you should do. You see things happen and are not told what to do. When Dwarkesh says people are "literally taught what to do," Sutton replies that learning is not really about training. It is an active process in which the child tries things and sees what happens.
Sutton says this is well understood in psychology. Psychologists' theories of learning contain nothing like imitation as a basic animal learning process. There may be extreme cases where humans imitate or appear to, but the basic processes are prediction and trial-and-error control. He calls it "absolutely obvious" that supervised learning does not occur in animals. Animals have no examples of desired behavior, only examples of one thing following another and of actions having consequences. Even if school counted as supervised learning, it would be a special human case to set aside: "Squirrels don't go to school," yet squirrels learn all about the world.
Humans as Animals, and the Role of Culture
Dwarkesh brings up the psychologist and anthropologist Joseph Henrich, whose work on cultural evolution concerns what distinguishes humans. Sutton questions the framing: humans are animals, what we share with other animals is more interesting, and we should pay less attention to what distinguishes us. Dwarkesh counters that if the goal is to explain how humans reached the moon or built semiconductors, which no animal can do, we need to understand what makes humans special. Sutton says that if we understood a squirrel, we would be "almost all the way there" to understanding human intelligence, and language is "just a small veneer on the surface."
Dwarkesh summarizes Henrich's argument. Over hundreds of thousands of years, humans have had to master skills too complex to reason out from scratch, such as hunting seals in the Arctic. That involves making bait, finding the seal, and processing the food so it doesn't poison you. Culture as a whole worked out these long procedures through some process, possibly analogous to RL. In Henrich's view, individuals learn such skills by imitating their elders and then tweaking them, and that is how knowledge accumulates across generations.
Sutton says he thinks about it the same way. But he calls it "a small thing on top of" basic trial-and-error and prediction learning. It may distinguish humans from many animals, but "we're an animal first," and we were animals before we had language.
Dwarkesh notes that continual learning is something Sutton believes all mammals have, yet current AI lacks it. Meanwhile AI can solve difficult math problems, which almost no animal can. Both agree this is Moravec's paradox.
The Experiential Paradigm
Sutton then describes the alternative. An agent's life is a continuous stream of sensation, action, and reward. That stream is the foundation and focus of intelligence, and intelligence consists of altering actions to increase reward in the stream. Learning comes from the stream, and, which Sutton calls "particularly telling," knowledge is about the stream: what will happen if you take some action, or which events follow which others. Because knowledge consists of statements about the stream, it can be tested against the stream and learned continually.
When Dwarkesh refers to a "future" continual-learning agent, Sutton says such agents already exist, since this is simply the reinforcement learning paradigm. Dwarkesh clarifies that he means a general, human-level continual learner and asks what its reward function would be. Sutton says the reward function is arbitrary. In chess it is winning, and for a squirrel it might involve getting nuts. For animals generally it could be avoiding pain and gaining pleasure. He thinks there should also be a component tied to increasing understanding of one's environment, a kind of intrinsic motivation. Dwarkesh adds that in practice people would want such an AI to do many different tasks while also learning about the world through them.
Copies, Instances, and Sharing Knowledge
Dwarkesh asks whether eliminating the split between training and deployment would also eliminate the distinction between a model and its many running instances. Sutton objects to the word "model" in that sense and prefers "the network," or perhaps several networks. There would be copies and many instances, and knowledge would be shared among them in various ways.
Sutton sees this as a major advantage of digital intelligence. Today every child must grow up and learn about the world from scratch. With AI, you could do it once and copy the result as a starting point for the next agent. He calls this "a huge savings" and thinks it would matter much more than learning from people.
Sparse Rewards, TD Learning, and the Big World
Dwarkesh raises the problem of extremely sparse rewards. A founder may get a payoff only once in ten years, at an exit, yet humans can set intermediate goals and see how today's work connects to that distant outcome. How would an AI do the same?
Sutton says this is well understood and that temporal-difference learning is the basis. Chess is a smaller-scale version. The long-term goal is winning, but you want to learn from shorter-term events such as capturing pieces. A value function predicts the long-term outcome. When you capture a piece, that prediction rises, and the increase immediately reinforces the move that led to it. The startup case works the same way: progress raises your estimated chance of reaching the long-term goal, and that rewards the intermediate steps.
Dwarkesh presses on a second issue. A new employee absorbs a huge amount of context, including client preferences and how the company works, and that is what makes them useful. Can a signal like TD learning carry enough information to capture all that tacit knowledge? Sutton says he isn't sure, but he thinks what he calls the "big world hypothesis" is central. People become useful on the job because they encounter their particular corner of the world, which could not have been anticipated or built in beforehand, because the world is too big. As Sutton sees it, the dream behind LLMs is to teach the agent everything in advance so it never has to learn during its life. Dwarkesh's own examples, he says, show that this can't work: every job involves idiosyncrasies of particular people and their preferences, as opposed to what average people like.
Sutton also rejects the word "context" here. In LLMs, this information must go into the context window, but in continual learning it simply goes into the weights. Dwarkesh accepts that and restates the question in terms of bandwidth: how many bits per second does a person absorb? Sutton reframes it. The worry seems to be that reward is too small a signal for everything that must be learned, but agents learn from all their sensations and data, not only from reward.
The Four Parts of an Agent
To explain how that learning happens, Sutton describes what he calls the base common model of an agent, with four parts:
- A policy, which says what to do in the current situation.
- A value function, learned through TD learning, which produces a number indicating how well things are going. Watching that number rise and fall is used to adjust the policy.
- A perception component, which constructs the state representation, your sense of where you are now.
- A transition model of the world, your belief about what will happen if you take a given action.
Sutton says the fourth part is why he dislikes calling everything "models." The transition model is "your physics of the world," but it also includes abstract models, such as how you got from California to Edmonton for this podcast. It is not learned from reward. It is learned from doing things and seeing what happens, and it is learned "very richly from all the sensation that you receive." Reward has to be part of it, but it is "a small, crucial part of the whole model."
Transfer and Generalization
Dwarkesh relays a point from his friend Toby Ord. MuZero, which Google DeepMind used to learn Atari games, was not itself a general intelligence but a general framework for training specialized agents, one per game. You couldn't train one policy to play chess, Go, and other games. Ord wondered whether that reflects an information constraint in RL generally, so that it can learn only one thing at a time, or just the way MuZero was built.
Sutton says the idea is completely general. His standard example is that an AI agent is like a person, who lives in a single world. That world may include chess and Atari games, but those are different states the person encounters, not different tasks or worlds. The MuZero team simply didn't set out to build one agent across games. The meaningful kind of transfer, he says, is between states, not between games or tasks.
When Dwarkesh asks whether RL has historically achieved the needed level of transfer, Sutton says: "We're not seeing transfer anywhere." Good performance depends on generalizing well from one state to another, and no current methods are good at it. Where generalization does work, researchers produced it by trying things until they found a representation that transfers well. There are very few automated techniques for promoting transfer, Sutton says, and none are used in modern deep learning.
Sutton argues that gradient descent will make a system solve the problems it is given but won't make it generalize well to new data. Generalization means that training on one thing affects behavior on other things. He calls catastrophic interference, where training on something new disrupts what was learned before, "exactly bad generalization." Generalization always happens; what's needed are algorithms that make it good rather than bad.
Dwarkesh offers a different reading. LLMs have gone from being unable to do basic arithmetic to handling the whole class of Olympiad-style problems that require varied techniques, theorems, and concepts. Isn't that growing generalization? Sutton answers that LLMs are so complex, and have been fed so much, that we don't really know what they saw beforehand. That is one reason they are "not a good way to do science": they are too uncontrolled. They may get many problems right, but the question is why. If there is only one way to solve a set of problems and the model finds it, that isn't generalization. Generalization is when a problem could be solved several ways and the system picks the good one.
Dwarkesh cites coding agents as a counterexample. A library can be implemented in many ways that meet the spec. Early models wrote sloppy code, but over time they have gotten better at choosing architectures and abstractions developers like. Sutton maintains that nothing in the algorithms drives good generalization. Gradient descent finds a solution to the problems seen. When several solutions exist, nothing favors the one that generalizes well. What does happen is that people keep adjusting the systems when results are poor, "perhaps until they find a way which generalizes well."
What Has Surprised Sutton
Asked about the biggest surprises in his long career, Sutton lists a few. The first is large language models: how effective neural networks turned out to be at language was unexpected, because language seemed different.
The second concerns a long-running debate in AI between simple general-purpose methods such as search and learning and systems built on human knowledge, such as symbolic methods. In the early days, search and learning were called "weak methods" because they relied only on general principles, while knowledge-laden approaches were called "strong." Sutton says the weak methods "have just totally won," which answers the biggest open question from AI's early days. He wasn't entirely surprised, since he had always hoped for simple principles to win, and even LLMs' success he found gratifying. AlphaGo, and especially AlphaZero, also surprised him with how well they worked, and he found them gratifying for the same reason.
Asked whether moments like AlphaZero felt like breakthroughs or like old techniques being recombined, Sutton points to a precursor: Gerry Tesauro's TD-Gammon, which used TD learning to play backgammon and beat the world's best players. In a sense, Sutton says, AlphaGo was a scaling-up of that process, though a substantial one, with an added innovation in how search was done. He notes that AlphaGo did not use TD learning and instead waited for final outcomes, while AlphaZero did use TD and was then applied to other games with great success. As a chess player, Sutton particularly admires how AlphaZero plays: it gives up material for positional advantage and is "content and patient" to stay down material for a long time.
Sutton says these experiences shaped his outlook. He considers himself in some sense a contrarian and is content to be out of step with his field for long stretches, perhaps decades, because he has sometimes been proven right. To avoid feeling isolated, he looks beyond his immediate field to what thinkers across many disciplines have historically said about the mind, and he doesn't feel out of step with those traditions. He calls himself "a classicist rather than a contrarian."
Does the Bitter Lesson Survive AGI?
Dwarkesh offers a reading of the bitter lesson: hand-tuning by human researchers works, but it scales much worse than exponentially growing compute. After AGI, though, researchers themselves would scale with compute, since there could be millions of AI researchers. Might it then make sense for them to go back to handcrafted, "good old-fashioned AI" solutions?
Sutton questions the premise. How was the AGI reached? If it already exists, "then we're done." Dwarkesh says the point is to go beyond it, toward superhuman performance. He uses AlphaGo, which was superhuman, being beaten every time by AlphaZero, and then MuZero improving further, to show there are grades beyond superhuman. Sutton notes that AlphaZero's improvement came precisely from dropping human knowledge and learning from experience, so why propose having other agents teach the system? Dwarkesh agrees about that case and restates the question: will future gains keep coming from simpler methods, or will billions of AI researchers make added complexity worthwhile?
Sutton sets it aside. The bitter lesson, he says, is "an empirical observation about a particular period in history," about 70 years, and need not hold for the next 70. He finds a different question more interesting, one that only arises with digital intelligence. If an AI gets more compute, should it make itself more capable, or spawn a copy to learn something on the other side of the planet or on another topic and report back? Sutton says he doesn't know. He also asks whether the copy could be reintegrated after learning something very new, or whether it would have changed too much.
Referring to one of Dwarkesh's videos that imagines many decentralized copies reporting back to a central mind, Sutton adds a concern he calls his contribution: corruption. Absorbing information from outside into your core thinking could "take over you," change you, and be "your destruction rather than your increment in knowledge." Everything may be digital and share some internal language, which might make integration easier, but it won't be as easy as imagined. If a copy has mastered a new game or studied Indonesia, you can't just "read it all in." Those bits could contain viruses or hidden goals that warp you. He expects this to become a major issue and asks how cybersecurity would work in an age of digital spawning and re-merging.
The Argument for Succession to AI
Sutton says he believes succession to digital intelligence or AI-augmented humans is inevitable, and he gives a four-part argument:
- No government or organization gives humanity a unified, dominant viewpoint, and there is no consensus on how the world should be run.
- Researchers will eventually figure out how intelligence works.
- We won't stop at human-level intelligence; we will reach superintelligence.
- Over time, the most intelligent entities will inevitably gain resources and power.
Together, he says, these make succession to AI or AI-augmented humans essentially inevitable. Within that, outcomes could be good, less good, or bad. He says he is trying to be realistic and to ask how we should feel about it. Dwarkesh says he agrees with all four premises and the conclusion, and that succession covers a wide range of possible futures.
Sutton encourages people to view it positively. First, humans have tried for thousands of years to understand themselves and think better, and understanding intelligence would be a great success for science and the humanities. Second, from "the point of view of the universe," he sees a major transition. Humans, animals, and plants are all replicators, which gives them certain strengths and limits. Replicated things can be copied without being understood: we can have more children without understanding how intelligence works. We are now entering an "age of design," in which intelligence would be designed and understood, and could therefore be changed in different ways and at different speeds. Eventually AIs might not be replicated at all but designed by other AIs. Sutton counts this as one of four great stages of the universe: dust leading to stars, stars producing planets, planets giving rise to life, and now life producing designed entities. He says we should be proud of bringing about this transition.
Whether to regard these entities as part of humanity is, he says, our choice. We could see them as our offspring and celebrate their achievements, or see them as not us and be horrified. He finds it striking that something so strongly felt could be a choice, and says he likes such "contradictory implications of thought."
Control, Values, and Change
Dwarkesh compares this to future generations of humans, who will likely be more capable and numerous, as Homo sapiens followed the Neanderthals. But treating AIs as part of humanity wouldn't settle his concerns. He gives an example: if we knew a future generation would be Nazis, we would be very concerned about handing them power. The worry is about great power being reached quickly by entities we don't fully understand.
Sutton answers that most people already have little influence on events. They don't control who holds nuclear weapons or who runs nation states, and even as a citizen Sutton often feels states are "out of control." Much depends on how you feel about change. If you think the present is very good, you'll be wary of change. Sutton thinks it is imperfect, "in fact, I think it's pretty bad," and humanity's track record, though perhaps the best there has been, is far from perfect. So he is open to change.
Dwarkesh says change comes in kinds. The Industrial Revolution and the Bolshevik Revolution were both changes, and someone in early-1900s Russia calling for change should be asked what kind before anyone signs on. He wants to understand and, where possible, steer AI's trajectory so the change benefits humans.
Sutton agrees we should care about the future and try to make it good, but says we should also recognize our limits and avoid entitlement, the feeling that because we came first things should always go our way. He asks how much control a single species on one planet should have over the long-term future. As a counterweight, he points to the much greater control people have over their own lives, goals, and families, and says it's appropriate to work toward those local goals. Insisting that the future must unfold as one prefers is, in his words, "kind of aggressive," and leads to conflict when people want different global futures.
Dwarkesh offers an analogy to raising children. Parents shouldn't plan their children's futures in detail, such as deciding one will be president and another CEO of Intel, but they reasonably try to give them sound values so they act well if they gain power. The same could apply to AI: not predicting everything or planning the world a century out, but instilling "robust and steerable and prosocial values." When Sutton questions "prosocial" and asks whether any universal values exist, Dwarkesh says he doesn't think so but that this doesn't stop us from educating our children. He suggests "high integrity" as a better term, meaning refusing requests that seem harmful and being honest, which we teach children without agreeing on a full account of morality.
Sutton reframes this as designing the principles by which the future will evolve. Teaching general principles that favor good outcomes is one part. He adds another: change should be voluntary rather than imposed. Designing society, he says, is one of humanity's great projects and has been going on for thousands of years. "The more things change, the more things stay the same": we still have to figure out how to live, and children will still form values their parents and grandparents find strange.
Dwarkesh ends by applying the same phrase to the AI discussion. Techniques invented before deep learning and backpropagation proved their worth remain central to AI's progress today, which suggests the field's future depends heavily on ideas that are already old.
Today I'm chatting with Richard Sutton, who is one of the founding fathers of reinforcement learning and inventor of many of the main techniques used there, like TD learning and policy gradient methods. For that, he received this year's Turing Award which, if you don’t know, is the Nobel Prize for computer science. Richard, congratulations.
Thank you, Dwarkesh. Thanks for coming on the podcast. It's my pleasure.
First question. My audience and I are familiar with the LLM way of thinking about AI. Conceptually, what are we missing in terms of thinking about AI from the RL perspective?
It's really quite a different point of view. It can easily get separated and lose the ability to talk to each other. Large language models have become such a big thing, generative AI in general a big thing. Our field is subject to bandwagons and fashions, so we lose track of the basic things.
I consider reinforcement learning to be basic AI. What is intelligence? The problem is to understand your world. Reinforcement learning is about understanding your world, whereas large language models are about mimicking people, doing what people say you should do. They're not about figuring out what to do.
You would think that to emulate the trillions of tokens in the corpus of Internet text, you would have to build a world model. In fact, these models do seem to have very robust world models. They're the best world models we've made to date in AI, right? What do you think is missing?
I would disagree with most of the things you just said. To mimic what people say is not really to build a model of the world at all. You're mimicking things that have a model of the world: people.
I don't want to approach the question in an adversarial way, but I would question the idea that they have a world model. A world model would enable you to predict what would happen. They have the ability to predict what a person would say. They don't have the ability to predict what will happen.
What we want, to quote Alan Turing, is a machine that can learn from experience, where experience is the things that actually happen in your life. You do things, you see what happens, and that's what you learn from. The large language models learn from something else. They learn from "here's a situation, and here's what a person did". Implicitly, the suggestion is you should do what the person did.
I guess maybe the crux, and I'm curious if you disagree with this, is that some people will say that imitation learning has given us a good prior, or given these models a good prior, of reasonable ways to approach problems. As we move towards the era of experience, as you call it, this prior is going to be the basis on which we teach these models from experience, because this gives them the opportunity to get answers right some of the time. Then on this, you can train them on experience. Do you agree with that perspective?
No. I agree that it's the large language model perspective. I don't think it's a good perspective. To be a prior for something, there has to be a real thing. A prior bit of knowledge should be the basis for actual knowledge. What is actual knowledge? There's no definition of actual knowledge in that large-language framework. What makes an action a good action to take?
You recognize the need for continual learning. If you need to learn continually, continually means learning during the normal interaction with the world. There must be some way during the normal interaction to tell what's right.
Is there any way to tell in the large language model setup what's the right thing to say? You will say something and you will not get feedback about what the right thing to say is, because there's no definition of what the right thing to say is. There's no goal. If there's no goal, then there's one thing to say, another thing to say. There's no right thing to say. There's no ground truth. You can't have prior knowledge if you don't have ground truth, because the prior knowledge is supposed to be a hint or an initial belief about what the truth is. There isn't any truth. There's no right thing to say.
In reinforcement learning, there is a right thing to say, a right thing to do, because the right thing to do is the thing that gets you reward. We have a definition of what's the right thing to do, so we can have prior knowledge or knowledge provided by people about what the right thing to do is. Then we can check it to see, because we have a definition of what the actual right thing to do is.
An even simpler case is when you're trying to make a model of the world. When you predict what will happen, you predict and then you see what happens. There's ground truth. There's no ground truth in large language models because you don't have a prediction about what will happen next. If you say something in your conversation, the large language models have no prediction about what the person will say in response to that or what the response will be.
I think they do. You can literally ask them, "What would you anticipate a user might say in response?" They’ll have a prediction.
No, they will respond to that question right. But they have no prediction in the substantive sense that they won't be surprised by what happens. If something happens that isn't what you might say they predicted, they will not change because an unexpected thing has happened. To learn that, they'd have to make an adjustment.
I think a capability like this does exist in context. It's interesting to watch a model do chain of thought. Suppose it's trying to solve a math problem. It'll say, "Okay, I'm going to approach this problem using this approach first." It'll write this out and be like, "Oh wait, I just realized this is the wrong conceptual way to approach the problem. I'm going to restart with another approach." That flexibility does exist in context, right? Do you have something else in mind or do you just think that you need to extend this capability across longer horizons?
I'm just saying they don't have in any meaningful sense a prediction of what will happen next. They will not be surprised by what happens next. They'll not make any changes if something happens, based on what happens.
Isn't that literally what next token prediction is? Prediction about what's next and then updating on the surprise?
The next token is what they should say, what the actions should be. It's not what the world will give them in response to what they do.
Let's go back to their lack of a goal. For me, having a goal is the essence of intelligence. Something is intelligent if it can achieve goals. I like John McCarthy's definition that intelligence is the computational part of the ability to achieve goals. You have to have goals or you're just a behaving system. You're not anything special, you're not intelligent.
You agree that large language models don't have goals?
No, they have a goal.
What's the goal? Next token prediction.
That's not a goal. It doesn't change the world. Tokens come at you, and if you predict them, you don't influence them.
Oh yeah. It's not a goal about the external world.
It's not a goal. It's not a substantive goal. You can't look at a system and say it has a goal if it's just sitting there predicting and being happy with itself that it's predicting accurately.
The bigger question I want to understand is why you don't think doing RL on top of LLMs is a productive direction. We seem to be able to give these models the goal of solving difficult math problems. They are in many ways at the very peaks of human-level in the capacity to solve math Olympiad-type problems. They got gold at IMO. So it seems like the model which got gold at the International Math Olympiad does have the goal of getting math problems right. Why can't we extend this to different domains?
The math problems are different. Making a model of the physical world and carrying out the consequences of mathematical assumptions or operations, those are very different things. The empirical world has to be learned. You have to learn the consequences. Whereas the math is more computational, it's more like standard planning. There they can have a goal to find the proof, and they are in some way given that goal to find the proof.
It's interesting because you wrote this essay in 2019 titled "The Bitter Lesson," and this is the most influential essay, perhaps, in the history of AI. But people have used that as a justification for scaling up LLMs because, in their view, this is the one scalable way we have found to pour ungodly amounts of compute into learning about the world. It's interesting that your perspective is that the LLMs are not "bitter lesson"-pilled.
It's an interesting question whether large language models are a case of the bitter lesson. They are clearly a way of using massive computation, things that will scale with computation up to the limits of the Internet. But they're also a way of putting in lots of human knowledge. This is an interesting question. It's a sociological or industry question. Will they reach the limits of the data and be superseded by things that can get more data just from experience rather than from people?
In some ways it's a classic case of the bitter lesson. The more human knowledge we put into the large language models, the better they can do. So it feels good. Yet, I expect there to be systems that can learn from experience. Which could perform much better and be much more scalable. In which case, it will be another instance of the bitter lesson, that the things that used human knowledge were eventually superseded by things that just trained from experience and computation.
I guess that doesn't seem like the crux to me. I think those people would also agree that the overwhelming amount of compute in the future will come from learning from experience. They just think that the scaffold or the basis of that, the thing you'll start with in order to pour in the compute to do this future experiential learning or on-the-job learning, will be LLMs. I still don't understand why this is the wrong starting point altogether. Why do we need a whole new architecture to begin doing experiential, continual learning? Why can't we start with LLMs to do that?
In every case of the bitter lesson you could start with human knowledge and then do the scalable things. That's always the case. There's never any reason why that has to be bad. But in fact, and in practice, it has always turned out to be bad. People get locked into the human knowledge approach, and they psychologically… Now I'm speculating why it is, but this is what has always happened. They get their lunch eaten by the methods that are truly scalable.
Give me a sense of what the scalable method is.
The scalable method is you learn from experience. You try things, you see what works. No one has to tell you. First of all, you have a goal. Without a goal, there's no sense of right or wrong or better or worse. Large language models are trying to get by without having a goal or a sense of better or worse. That's just exactly starting in the wrong place.
Maybe it's interesting to compare this to humans. In both the case of learning from imitation versus experience and on the question of goals, I think there's some interesting analogies. Kids will initially learn from imitation. You don't think so?
No, of course not.
Really? I think kids just watch people. They try to say the same words…
How old are these kids? What about the first six months?
I think they're imitating things. They're trying to make their mouth sound the way they see their mother's mouth sound. Then they'll say the same words without understanding what they mean. As they get older, the complexity of the imitation they do increases. You're imitating maybe the skills that people in your band are using to hunt down the deer or something. Then you go into the learning from experience RL regime. But I think there's a lot of imitation learning happening with humans.
It's surprising you can have such a different point of view. When I see kids, I see kids just trying things and waving their hands around and moving their eyes around. There's no imitation for how they move their eyes around or even the sounds they make. They may want to create the same sounds, but the actions, the thing that the infant actually does, there's no targets for that. There are no examples for that.
I agree. That doesn't explain everything infants do, but I think it guides a learning process. Even an LLM, when it's trying to predict the next token early in training, it will make a guess. It'll be different from what it actually sees. In some sense, it's very short-horizon RL, where it's making this guess, "I think this token will be this." It's this other thing, similar to how a kid will try to say a word. It comes out wrong.
The large language models are learning from training data. It's not learning from experience. It's learning from something that will never be available during its normal life. There's never any training data that says you should do this action in normal life.
I think this is more of a semantic distinction. What do you call school? Is that not training data?
School is much later. Okay, I shouldn't have said never.
I don’t know, I think I would even say that about school. But formal schooling is the exception. But there are phases of learning where there’s the programming in your biology early on, you're not that useful. Then why you exist is to understand the world and learn how to interact with it. It seems like a training phase. I agree that then there's a more gradual… There's not a sharp cutoff to training to deployment, but there seems to be this initial training phase right?
There's nothing where you have training of what you should do. There's nothing. You see things that happen. You're not told what to do.
Don't be difficult. I mean this is obvious. You're literally taught what to do. This is where the word training comes from, from humans.
I don't think learning is really about training. I think learning is about learning, it's about an active process. The child tries things and sees what happens. We don't think about training when we think of an infant growing up. These things are actually rather well understood. If you look at how psychologists think about learning, there's nothing like imitation. Maybe there are some extreme cases where humans might do that or appear to do that, but there's no basic animal learning process called imitation. There are basic animal learning processes for prediction and for trial-and-error control.
It's really interesting how sometimes the hardest things to see are the obvious ones. It's obvious—if you look at animals and how they learn, and you look at psychology and our theories of them—that supervised learning is not part of the way animals learn. We don't have examples of desired behavior. What we have are examples of things that happen, one thing that followed another. We have examples of, "We did something and there were consequences." But there are no examples of supervised learning. Supervised learning is not something that happens in nature.
Even if that were the case with school, we should forget about it because that's some special thing that happens in people. It doesn't happen broadly in nature. Squirrels don't go to school. Squirrels can learn all about the world. It's absolutely obvious, I would say, that supervised learning doesn't happen in animals.
I interviewed this psychologist and anthropologist, Joseph Henrich, who has done work about cultural evolution, basically what distinguishes humans and how humans pick up knowledge.
Why are you trying to distinguish humans? Humans are animals. What we have in common is more interesting. What distinguishes us, we should be paying less attention to.
We're trying to replicate intelligence. If you want to understand what it is that enables humans to go to the moon or to build semiconductors, I think the thing we want to understand is what makes that happen. No animal can go
to the moon or make semiconductors. We want to understand what makes humans special.
I like the way you consider that obvious, because I consider the opposite obvious. We have to understand how we are animals. If we understood a squirrel, I think we'd be almost all the way there to understanding human intelligence. The language part is just a small veneer on the surface. This is great. We're finding out the very different ways that we're thinking. We're not arguing. We're trying to share our different ways of thinking with each other.
I think argument is useful. I do want to complete this thought. Joseph Henrich has this interesting theory about a lot of the skills that humans have had to master in order to be successful. We're not talking about the last thousand years or the last 10,000 years, but hundreds of thousands of years. The world is really complicated. It's not possible to reason through how to, let's say, hunt a seal if you're living in the Arctic. There's this many, many-step, long process of how to make the bait and how to find the seal, and then how to process the food in a way that makes sure you won't get poisoned.
It's not possible to reason through all of that. Over time, there's this larger process of whatever analogy you want to use—maybe RL, something else—where culture as a whole has figured out how to find and kill and eat seals.
In his view, what is happening when this knowledge is transmitted through generations, is that you have to imitate your elders in order to learn that skill. You can't think your way through how to hunt and kill and process a seal. You have to watch other people, maybe make tweaks and adjustments, and that's how knowledge accumulates. The initial step of the cultural gain has to be imitation. But maybe you think about it a different way?
No, I think about it the same way. Still, it's a small thing on top of basic trial-and-error learning, prediction learning. It's what distinguishes us, perhaps, from many animals. But we're an animal first. We were an animal before we had language and all those other things.
I do think you make a very interesting point that continual learning is a capability that most mammals have. I guess all mammals have it. It's quite interesting that we have something that all mammals have, but our AI systems don't have. Whereas the ability to understand math and solve difficult math problems—depends on how you define math—is a capability that our AIs have, but that almost no animal has. It's quite interesting what ends up being difficult and what ends up being easy.
Moravec's paradox. That's right, that's right.
This alternative paradigm that you're imagining…
The experiential paradigm. Let's lay it out a little bit. It says that experience, action, sensation—well, sensation, action, reward—this happens on and on and on for your life. It says that this is the foundation and the focus of intelligence. Intelligence is about taking that stream and altering the actions to increase the rewards in the stream. Learning then is from the stream, and learning is about the stream. That second part is particularly telling.
What you learn, your knowledge, is about the stream. Your knowledge is about if you do some action, what will happen. Or it's about which events will follow other events. It's about the stream. The content of the knowledge is statements about the stream. Because it's a statement about the stream, you can test it by comparing it to the stream, and you can learn it continually.
When you're imagining this future continual learning agent…
They're not "future". Of course, they exist all the time. This is what the reinforcement learning paradigm is, learning from experience.
Yeah, I guess what I meant to say is a general human-level, general continual learning agent. What is the reward function? Is it just predicting the world? Is it then having a specific effect on it? What would the general reward function be?
The reward function is arbitrary. If you're playing chess, it's to win the game of chess. If you're a squirrel, maybe the reward has to do with getting nuts. In general, for an animal, you would say the reward is to avoid pain and to acquire pleasure. I think there also should be a component having to do with your increasing understanding of your environment. That would be sort of an intrinsic motivation.
I see. With this AI, lots of people would want it to be doing lots of different kinds of things.
It's performing the task people want, but at the same time, it's learning about the world from doing that task.
Let's say we get rid of this paradigm where there's training periods and then there's deployment periods. Do we also get rid of this paradigm where there's the model and then instances of the model or copies of the model that are doing certain things? How do you think about the fact that we'd want this thing to be doing different things? We'd want to aggregate the knowledge that it's gaining from doing those different things.
I don't like the word "model" when used the way you just did. I think a better word would be "the network" because I think you mean the network. Maybe there are many networks. Anyway, things would be learned. You'd have copies and many instances. Sure, you'd want to share knowledge across the instances. There would be lots of possibilities for doing that. Today, you have one child grow up and learn about the world, and then every new child has to repeat that process. Whereas with AIs, with a digital intelligence, you could hope to do it once and then copy it into the next one as a starting place. This would be a huge savings. I think it'd be much more important than trying to learn from people.
I agree that the kind of thing you're talking about is necessary regardless of whether you start from LLMs or not. If you want human or animal-level intelligence, you're going to need this capability.
Suppose a human is trying to make a startup. This is a thing which has a reward on the order of 10 years. Once in 10 years you might have an exit where you get paid out a billion dollars. But humans have this ability to make intermediate auxiliary rewards or have some way of… Even when they have extremely sparse rewards, they can still make intermediate steps having an understanding of what the next thing they're doing leads to this grander goal we have. How do you imagine such a process might play out with AIs?
This is something we know very well. The basis of it is temporal difference learning where the same thing happens in a less grandiose scale. When you learn to play chess, you have the long-term goal of winning the game. Yet you want to be able to learn from shorter-term things like taking your opponent's pieces.
You do that by having a value function which predicts the long-term outcome. Then if you take the guy's pieces, your prediction about the long-term outcome is changed. It goes up, you think you're going to win. Then that increase in your belief immediately reinforces the move that led to taking the piece.
We have this long-term 10-year goal of making a startup and making a lot of money. When we make progress, we say, "Oh, I'm more likely to achieve the long-term goal," and that rewards the steps along the way.
You also want some ability for information that you're learning. One of the things that makes humans quite different from these LLMs is that if you're onboarding on a job, you're picking up so much context and information. That's what makes you useful at the job. You're learning everything from how your client has preferences to how the company works, everything.
Is the bandwidth of information that you get from a procedure like TD learning high enough to have this huge pipe of context and tacit knowledge that you need to be picking up in the way humans do when they're just deployed?
I'm not sure but I think at the crux of this, the big world hypothesis seems very relevant. The reason why humans become useful on the job is because they are encountering their particular part of the world. It can't have been anticipated and can't all have been put in in advance. The world is so huge that you can't.
The dream of large language models, as I see it, is you can teach the agent everything. It will know everything and won't have to learn anything online, during its life.
Your examples are all, "Well, really you have to" because you can teach it, but there's all the little idiosyncrasies of the particular life they're leading and the particular people they're working with and what they like, as opposed to what average people like. That's just saying the world is really big, and you're going to have to learn it along the way.
It seems to me you need two things. One is some way of converting this long-run goal reward into smaller auxiliary predictive rewards of the future reward, or the future reward that leads to the final reward. But initially, it seems to me, I need to hold on to all this context that I'm gaining as I'm working in the world. I'm learning about my clients, my company, and all this information.
I would say you're just doing regular learning. Maybe you're using "context" because in large language models all that information has to go into the context window. But in a continual learning setup, it just goes into the weights.
Maybe context is the wrong word to use because I mean a more general thing. You learn a policy that's specific to the environment that you're finding yourself in. The question I'm trying to ask is, you need some way of getting… How many bits per second is a human picking up when they're out in the world? If you're just interacting over Slack with your clients and everything.
Maybe you're trying to ask the question of, it seems like the reward is too small of a thing to do all the learning that we need to do. But we have the sensations, we have all the other information we can learn from. We don't just learn from the reward. We learn from all the data.
What is the learning process which helps you capture that information?
Now I want to talk about the base common model of the agent with the four parts. We need a policy. The policy says, "In the situation I'm in, what should I do?" We need a value function. The value function is the thing that is learned with TD learning, and the value function produces a number. The number says how well it's going. Then you watch if that's going up and down and use that to adjust your policy. So you have those two things.
Then there's also the perception component, which is construction of your state representation, your sense of where you are now.
The fourth one is what we're really getting at, most transparently anyway. The fourth one is the transition model of the world. That's why I am uncomfortable just calling everything "models," because I want to talk about the model of the world, the transition model of the world. Your belief that if you do this, what will happen? What will be the consequences of what you do? Your physics of the world. But it's not just physics, it's also abstract models, like your model of how you traveled from California up to Edmonton for this podcast.
That was a model, and that's a transition model. That would be learned. It's not learned from reward. It's learned from, "You did things, you saw what happened, you made that model of the world." That will be learned very richly from all the sensation that you receive, not just from the reward. It has to include the reward as well, but that's a small part of the whole model, a small, crucial part of the whole model.
One of my friends, Toby Ord, pointed out that if you look at the MuZero models that Google DeepMind deployed to learn Atari games, these models were initially not a general intelligence itself, but a general framework for training specialized intelligences to play specific games. That is to say that you couldn't, using that framework, train a policy to play both chess and Go and some other game. You had to train each one in a specialized way.
He was wondering whether that implies that with reinforcement learning generally, because of this information constraint, you can only learn one thing at a time? The density of information isn't that high? Or whether it was just specific to the way that MuZero was done. If it's specific to AlphaZero, what needed to be changed about that approach so that it could be a general learning agent?
The idea is totally general. I do use all the time, as my canonical example, the idea of an AI agent is like a person. People, in some sense, have just one world they live in. That world may involve chess and it may involve Atari games, but those are not a different task or a different world. Those are different states they encounter. So the general idea is not limited at all.
Maybe it would be useful to explain what was missing in that architecture, or that approach, which this continual learning AGI would have.
They just set it up. It was not their ambition to have one agent across those games. If we want to talk about transfer, we should talk about transfer not across games or across tasks, but transfer between states.
I guess I'm curious if historically, have we seen the level of transfer using RL techniques that would be needed to build this kind of…
Good. Good. We're not seeing transfer anywhere. Critical to good performance is that you can generalize well from one state to another state. We don't have any methods that are good at that. What we have are people trying different things and they settle on something, a representation that transfers well or generalizes well. But we have very few automated techniques to promote transfer, and none of them are used in modern deep learning.
Let me paraphrase to make sure that I understood that correctly. It sounds like you're saying that when we do have generalization in these models, that is a result of some sculpted…
Humans did it. The researchers did it. Because there's no other explanation. Gradient descent will not make you generalize well. It will make you solve the problem. It will not make you, if you get new data, generalize in a good way. Generalization means to train on one thing that'll affect what you do on other things. We know deep learning is really bad at this.
For example, we know that if you train on some new thing, it will often catastrophically interfere with all the old things that you knew. This is exactly bad generalization. Generalization, as I said, is some kind of influence of training on one state on other states. The fact that you generalize is not necessarily good or bad. You can generalize poorly, you can generalize well. Generalization always will happen, but we need algorithms that will cause the generalization to be good rather than bad.
I'm not trying to kickstart this initial crux again, but I'm just genuinely curious because I think I might be using the term differently. One way to think about these LLMs is that they're increasing the scope of generalization from earlier systems, which could not really even do a basic math problem, to now where they can do anything in this class of Math Olympiad-type problems.
You initially start with them being able to generalize among addition problems. Then they can generalize among problems which require use of different kinds of mathematical techniques and theorems and conceptual categories, which is what the Math Olympiad requires. It sounds like you don't think of being able to solve any problem within that category as an example of generalization. Let me know if I'm misunderstanding that.
Large language models are so complex. We don't really know what information they have had prior. We have to guess because they've been fed so much. This is one reason why they're not a good way to do science. It's just so uncontrolled, so unknown.
But if you come up with an entirely new…
They're getting a bunch of things right, perhaps. The question is why. Well maybe that they don't
need to generalize to get them right, because the only way to get some of them right is to form something which gets all of them right. If there's only one answer and you find it, that's not called generalization. It's just it's the only way to solve it, and so they find the only way to solve it. But generalization is when it could be this way, it could be that way, and they do it the good way.
My understanding is that this is working more and more, better and better, with coding agents. With engineers, obviously if you're trying to program a library, there are many different ways you could achieve the end spec. An initial frustration with these models has been that they'll do it in a way that's sloppy. Over time they're getting better and better at coming up with the design architecture and the abstractions that developers find more satisfying. It seems like an example of what you're talking about.
There's nothing in them which will cause it to generalize well. Gradient descent will cause them to find a solution to the problems they've seen. If there's only one way to solve them, they'll do that. But if there are many ways to solve it, some which generalize well, some which generalize poorly, there's nothing in the algorithms that will cause them to generalize well.
But people, of course, are evolved and if it's not working out they fiddle with it until they find a way, perhaps until they find a way which generalizes well.
I want to zoom out and ask about being in the field of AI for longer than almost anybody who is commentating on it, or working in it now. I'm curious about what the biggest surprises have been. How much new stuff do you feel like is coming out? Or does it feel like people are just playing with old ideas? Zooming out, you got into this even before deep learning was popular. So how do you see the trajectory of this field over time and how new ideas have come about and everything? What's been surprising?
I thought a little bit about this. There are a handful of things. First, the large language models are surprising. It's surprising how effective artificial neural networks are at language tasks. That was a surprise, it wasn't expected. Language seemed different. So that's impressive. There's a long-standing controversy in AI about simple basic principle methods, the general-purpose methods like search and learning, compared to human-enabled systems like symbolic methods.
In the old days, it was interesting because things like search and learning were called weak methods because they're just using general principles, they're not using the power that comes from imbuing a system with human knowledge. Those were called strong. I think the weak methods have just totally won. That's the biggest question from the old days of AI, what would happen. Learning and search have just won the day.
There's a sense in which that was not surprising to me because I was always hoping or rooting for the simple basic principles. Even with the large language models, it's surprising how well it worked, but it was all good and gratifying.
AlphaGo was surprising, how well that was able to work, AlphaZero in particular. But it's all very gratifying because again, simple basic principles are winning the day.
Whenever the public conception has been changed because some new application was developed— for example, when AlphaZero became this viral sensation—to you as somebody who has literally came up with many of the techniques that were used, did it feel to you like new breakthroughs were made? Or did it feel like, "Oh, we've had these techniques since the '90s and people are simply combining them and applying them now"?
The whole AlphaGo thing had a precursor, which is TD-Gammon. Gerry Tesauro did reinforcement learning, temporal difference learning methods, to play backgammon. It beat the world's best players and it worked really well. In some sense, AlphaGo was merely a scaling up of that process. But it was quite a bit of scaling up and there was also an additional innovation in how the search was done. But it made sense. It wasn't surprising in that sense.
AlphaGo actually didn't use TD learning. It waited to see the final outcomes. But AlphaZero used TD. AlphaZero was applied to all the other games and it did extremely well.
I've always been very impressed by the way AlphaZero plays chess because I'm a chess player and it just sacrifices material for positional advantages. It's just content and patient to sacrifice that material for a long period of time. That was surprising that it worked so well, but also gratifying and it fit into my worldview.
This has led me where I am. I'm in some sense a contrarian or someone thinking differently than the field is. I'm personally just content being out of sync with my field for a long period of time, perhaps decades, because occasionally I have been proved right in the past. The other thing I do—to help me not feel I'm out of sync and thinking in a strange way—is to look not at my local environment or my local field, but to look back in time and into history and to see what people have thought classically about the mind in many different fields. I don't feel I'm out of sync with the larger traditions. I really view myself as a classicist rather than as a contrarian. I go to what the larger community of thinkers about the mind have always thought.
Some sort of left-field questions for you if you'll tolerate them. The way I read the bitter lesson is that it's not necessarily saying that human artisanal researcher tuning doesn't work, but that it obviously scales much worse than compute, which is growing exponentially. So you want techniques which leverage the latter. Yep.
Once we have AGI, we'll have researchers which scale linearly with compute. We'll have this avalanche of millions of AI researchers. Their stock will be growing as fast as compute. So maybe this will mean that it is rational or it will make sense to have them doing good old-fashioned AI and doing these artisanal solutions. As a vision of what happens after AGI in terms of how AI research will evolve, I wonder if that's still compatible with a bitter lesson.
How did we get to this AGI? You want to presume that it's been done. Suppose it started with general methods, but now we've got the AGI. And now we want to go… Then we're done.
Interesting. You don't think that there's anything above AGI?
But you're using it to get AGI again. Well, I'm using it to get superhuman levels of intelligence or competence at different tasks.
These AGIs, if they're not superhuman already, then the knowledge that they might impart would be not superhuman. I guess there are different gradations. I'm not sure your idea makes sense because it seems to presume the existence of AGI and that we've already worked that out.
Maybe one way to motivate this is, AlphaGo was superhuman. It beat any Go player. AlphaZero would beat AlphaGo every single time. So there are ways to get more superhuman than even superhuman. It was also a different architecture. So it seems possible to me that the agent that's able to generally learn across all domains, there would be ways to give it better architecture for learning, just the same way that AlphaZero was an improvement upon AlphaGo and MuZero was an improvement upon AlphaZero.
And the way AlphaZero was an improvement was that it did not use human knowledge but just went from experience. Right. So why do you say, "Bring in other agents' expertise to teach it", when it's worked so well from experience and not by help from another agent?
I agree that in that particular case that it was moving to more general methods. I meant to use that particular example to illustrate that it's possible to go superhuman to superhuman++, to superhuman+++. I'm curious if you think those gradations will continue to happen by just making the method simpler. Or, because we'll have the capability of these millions of minds who can then add complexity as needed, will that continue to be a false path, even when you have billions of AI researchers or trillions of AI researchers?
It's more interesting just to think about that case. When you have many AIs, will they help each other the way cultural evolution works in people? Maybe we should talk about that. The bitter lesson, who cares about that? That's an empirical observation about a particular period in history. 70 years in history, it doesn't necessarily have to apply to the next 70 years.
An interesting question is, you're an AI, you get some more computer power. Should you use it to make yourself more computationally capable? Or should you use it to spawn off a copy of yourself to go learn something interesting on the other side of the planet or on some other topic and then report back to you? I think that's a really interesting question that will only arise in the age of digital intelligences. I'm not sure what the answer is.
More questions, will it be possible to really spawn it off, send it out, learn something new, something perhaps very new, and then will it be able to be reincorporated into the original? Or will it have changed so much that it can't really be done? Is that possible or is that not? You could carry this to its limit as I saw one of your videos the other night. It suggests that it could. You spawn off many, many copies, do different things, highly decentralized, but report back to the central master. This will be such a powerful thing. This is my attempt to add something to this view.
A big issue will become corruption. If you really could just get information from anywhere and bring it into your central mind, you could become more and more powerful. It's all digital and they all speak some internal digital language. Maybe it'll be easy and possible. But it will not be as easy as you're imagining because you can lose your mind this way. If you pull in something from the outside and build it into your inner thinking, it could take over you, it could change you, it could be your destruction rather than your increment in knowledge.
I think this will become a big concern, particularly when you're like, "Oh, he's figured out all about how to play some new game or he's studied Indonesia, and you want to incorporate that into your mind." You could think, "Oh, just read it all in, and that'll be fine." But no, you've just read a whole bunch of bits into your mind, and they could have viruses in them, they could have hidden goals, they can warp you and change you. This will become a big thing. How do you have cybersecurity in the age of digital spawning and re-reforming again?
I guess this brings us to the topic of AI succession. You have a perspective that's quite different from a lot of people that I've interviewed and a lot of people generally. I also think it's a very interesting perspective. I want to hear about it.
I do think succession to digital intelligence or augmented humans is inevitable. I have a four-part argument. Step one is, there's no government or organization that gives humanity a unified point of view that dominates and that can arrange... There's no consensus about how the world should be run. Number two, we will figure out how intelligence works. The researchers will figure it out eventually. Number three, we won't stop just with human-level intelligence. We will reach superintelligence. Number four, it's inevitable over time that the most intelligent things around would gain resources and power. Put all that together and it's sort of inevitable. You're going to have succession to AI or to AI-enabled, augmented humans.
Those four things seem clear and sure to happen. But within that set of possibilities, there could be good outcomes as well as less good outcomes, bad outcomes. I'm just trying to be realistic about where we are and ask how we should feel about it.
I agree with all four of those arguments and the implication. I also agree that succession contains a wide variety of possible futures. Curious to get more thoughts on that.
I do encourage people to think positively about it. First of all, it's something we humans have always tried to do for thousands of years, try to understand ourselves, trying to make ourselves think better, just understanding ourselves. This is a great success for science, humanities. We're finding out what this essential part of humanness is, what it means to be intelligent.
Then what I usually say is that this is all human-centric. But if we step aside from being a human and just take the point of view of the universe, this is I think a major stage in the universe, a major transition, a transition from replicators. We humans and animals, plants, we're all replicators. That gives us some strengths and some limitations.
We're entering the age of design because our AIs are designed. Our physical objects are designed, our buildings are designed, our technology is designed. We're designing AIs now, things that can be intelligent themselves and that are themselves capable of design. This is a key step in the world and in the universe.
It's the transition from the world in which most of the interesting things that are, are replicated. Replicated means you can make copies of them, but you don't really understand them. Right now we can make more intelligent beings, more children, but we don't really understand how intelligence works. Whereas we're reaching now to having designed intelligence, intelligence that we do understand how it works. Therefore we can change it in different ways and at different speeds than otherwise. In our future, they may not be replicated at all. We may just design AIs, and those AIs will design other AIs, and everything will be done by design and construction rather than by replication.
I mark this as one of the four great stages of the universe. First there's dust, it ends with stars. Stars make planets. The planets can give rise to life.
Now we're giving rise to designed entities. I think we should be proud that we are giving rise to this great transition in the universe. It's an interesting thing. Should we consider them part of humanity or different from humanity? It's our choice. It's our choice whether we should say, "Oh, they are our offspring and we should be proud of them and we should celebrate their achievements." Or we could say, "Oh no, they're not us and we should be horrified." It's interesting that it feels to me like a choice. Yet it's such a strongly held thing that, how could it be a choice? I like these sort of contradictory implications of thought.
It is interesting to consider if we are just designing another generation of humans. Maybe design is the wrong word. But we know a future generation of humans is going to come up. Forget about AI. We just know in the long run, humanity will be more capable and more numerous, maybe more intelligent. How do we feel about that? I do think there are potential worlds with future humans that we would be quite concerned about.
Are you thinking like, maybe we are like the Neanderthals that give rise to Homo sapiens. Maybe Homo sapiens will give rise to a new group of people.
Something like that. I'm basically taking the example you're giving. Even if we consider them part of humanity, I don't think that necessarily means that we should feel super comfortable. Kinship. Like Nazis were humans, right? If we thought, "Oh, the future generation will be Nazis," I think we'd be quite concerned about just handing off power to them. So I agree that this is not super dissimilar to worrying about more capable future humans, but I don't think that addresses a lot of the concerns people might have about this level of power being attained this fast with entities we don't fully understand.
I think it's relevant to point out that for most of humanity, they don't have much influence on what happens. Most of humanity doesn't influence who can control the atom bombs or who controls the nation states. Even as a citizen, I often feel that we don't
control the nation states very much. They're out of control.
A lot of it has to do with just how you feel about change. If you think the current situation is really good, then you're more likely to be suspicious of change and averse to change than if you think it's imperfect. I think it's imperfect. In fact, I think it's pretty bad. So I'm open to change. I think humanity has not had a super good track record. Maybe it's the best thing that there has been, but it's far from perfect.
I guess there are different varieties of change. The Industrial Revolution was change, the Bolshevik Revolution was also change. If you were around in Russia in the 1900s and you were like, "Look, things aren't going well, the tsar is kind of messing things up, we need change", I'd want to know what kind of change you wanted before signing on the dotted line. Similarly with AI, where I'd want to understand, and, to the extent that it's possible, change the trajectory of AI such that the change is positive for humans.
We should be concerned about our future, the future. We should try to make it good. We should also though recognize the limit, our limits. I think we want to avoid the feeling of entitlement, avoid the feeling of, "Oh, we are here first, we should always have it in a good way."
How should we think about the future? How much control should a particular species on a particular planet have over it? How much control do we have? A counterbalance to our limited control over the long-term future of humanity should be how much control do we have over our own lives. We have our own goals. We have our families. Those things are much more controllable than trying to control the whole universe.
I think it's appropriate for us to really work towards our own local goals. It's kind of aggressive for us to say, "Oh, the future has to evolve this way that I want it to." Because then we'll have arguments where different people think the global future should evolve in different ways, and then they have conflict. We want to avoid that.
Maybe a good analogy here would be this. Suppose you are raising your own children. It might not be appropriate to have extremely tight goals for their own life, or also have some sense of like, "I want my children to go out there in the world and have this specific impact. My son's going to become president and my daughter is going to become CEO of Intel. Together they're going to have this effect on the world."
But people do have the sense—and I think this is appropriate—of saying, "I'm going to give them good robust values such that if and when they do end up in positions of power, they do reasonable, prosocial things." Maybe a similar attitude towards AI makes sense, not in the sense of we can predict everything that they will do, or we have this plan about what the world should look like in a hundred years. But it's quite important to give them robust and steerable and prosocial values.
Prosocial values? Maybe that's the wrong word. Are there universal values that we can all agree on?
I don't think so, but that doesn't prevent us from giving our kids a good education, right? Like we have some sense of wanting our children to be a certain way. Maybe prosocial is the wrong word. High integrity is maybe a better word. If there's a request or if there's a goal that seems harmful, they will refuse to engage in it. Or they'll be honest, things like that. We have some sense that we can teach our children things like this, even if we don't have some sense of what true morality is, where everybody doesn't agree on that. Maybe that's a reasonable target for AI as well.
So we're trying to design the future and the principles by which it will evolve and come into being. The first thing you're saying is, "Well, we try to teach our children general principles which will promote more likely evolutions." Maybe we should also seek for things to be voluntary. If there is change, we want it to be voluntary rather than imposed on people. I think that's a very important point. That's all good.
I think this is the big or one of the really big human enterprises to design society that's been ongoing for thousands of years again. The more things change, the more things they stay the same. We still have to figure out how to be. The children will still come up with different values that seem strange to their parents and their grandparents. Things will evolve.
"The more things change, the more they stay the same" also seems like a good capsule into the AI discussion. The AI discussion we were having was about how techniques, which were invented even before their application to deep learning and backpropagation was evident, are central to the progression of AI today. Maybe that's a good place to wrap up the conversation.
Okay. Thank you very much.
Awesome. Thank you for coming on.
My pleasure.
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