The last three days, however, I intentionally did not watch. This week was the vaunted competition between man and machine: the two best Jeopardy! players took on Watson, a huge computer designed to reach the highest level of artificial intelligence. Watson was designed to do what people do: think, infer, interpret and arrive atL the information sought. He outperformed his human competitors in both speed and numbers of questions answered (or asked) correctly.
As an educator and psychologist, Watson should have fascinated me. But as a human, I was completely creeped out and upset. The idea that a machine--even an incredibly sophisticated one--can be set up to compete with humans is deeply disturbing because it reduces us to nothing more than the laws of biology, chemistry and physics which govern how our bodies operate. What Watson does not have is a mind and a soul. When humans were formed, we were created as a combination of earth (matter) and the "wind of G-d" (spirit). There is something Divine about each one of us; we are each created "b'tzelem Elokim" and we each carry a piece of G-d within us. To reduce love, joy, anger and loss to chemical reactions, or to reduce ingenuity, inventiveness and creativity to the firing of neurons is, to me, so simplistic as to be horrifying. Why do we insist on robbing humans of the mystery that is the Divine? Why is it so difficult for us to accept that there are things that are truly "l'malah min hateva"--things that we cannot understand or quantify, predict or control? I think that this is why the Rambam says that arrogance is the one human trait that has no redeeming value. Arrogance allows us to believe that we can, ultimately, control everything. But there are some things that we really can't understand. And I think that G-d wants it that way. Mystery and wonder keeps us humble, but it also keeps us vibrant, creative, infinitely complex, and ultimately, Human. Not understanding everything, accepting that certain things defy logic, reason or scientific explanation is exactly that which connects us to the Creator who made us and gave us life.
In Hebrew, there are two words for human: "adam", from the same root as "earth" and "ish", from the same root as the word for fire. The Malbim, at the beginning of Sefer Vayikra, has a long discussion about the difference between them. Ultimately, humans are made of earth--matter and all the rules that govern how it works--and fire--the piece of G-d that we call the soul. It is the soul that lasts; earth returns to the earth. To ignore the soul is, to me, simply tragic. I am all for technology. But I am even more for the humans that create it The whole human--body AND soul.
Mrs. Leah Herzog
1 comment:
This a chassidish story I once heard and I feel its a similar idea
-Allison
Application
One of the greatest disciples of the Maggid of Mezritch, Reb Pinchas, had begun life like many of his contemporaries, far from the ways of Chassidism. When rumors reached his city concerning the new path of Divine service the Maggid was paving, Reb Pinchas was inspired to investigate.
Before he visited the Maggid, he prepared a difficult Talmudic question to ask him, through which he could test the Maggid’s scholarship. When Reb Pinchas finally merited an audience with the Maggid, he did not get a chance to speak. The Maggid immediately told him, “I suggest you go speak to my pupil, Reb Zusia. You will surely benefit.” Reb Pinchas was dismissed and went to meet Reb Zusia.
Reb Zusia did not look like much of a scholar. Most of the day he did not study, but sat and recited Psalms. When Reb Pinchas asked Reb Zusia to learn with him, Reb Zusia replied that he was incapable of teaching the scholar. “However,” Reb Zusia said, “I have a Torah question that perhaps you might help me with.”
Reb Zusia brought out a volume of the Talmud and, opening to a certain page, he read aloud, “Rav Huna said: ‘Nine can combine with an Ark.’ If there are only nine Jews and a minyan is needed, the Ark may be counted as the tenth person. The Talmud asks: ‘But is an Ark a person?’ The Talmud then phrases the law differently.
“My question,” Reb Zusia continued, “is as follows: Doesn’t the Talmud already know that an Ark is not a person? What is the Talmud teaching us?”
Reb Pinchas was speechless. He had never encountered such an unusual question, so he turned to leave. Reb Zusia said, “Pardon me, Rabbi, but perhaps the Talmud is trying to impart a very important lesson indeed: A Jew must not think that just because he is an ‘Ark full of Torah Scrolls’ – he has learned much Torah – this automatically makes him a ‘person.’ In fact, it’s quite possible that this ‘case full of Torahs’ may not be a ‘person’ at all.
“This is what we learn here in Mezritch,” Reb Zusia concluded, “how to be a mensch, a ‘person.’ The objective is not only for a person to learn Torah, but to have the Torah teach one to be a ‘person.’”
Reb Pinchas understood why he had come to Mezritch and what he had been missing. He remained in Mezritch and eventually became one of the Maggid’s greatest disciples.
—Adapted from Rabbi J.J. Hecht
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