Ike Obi, Purdue University

My colleagues and I at Purdue University have uncovered a significant imbalance in the human values embedded in AI systems. The systems were predominantly oriented toward information and utility values and less toward prosocial, well-being and civic values.

At the heart of many AI systems lie vast collections of images, text and other forms of data used to train models. While these datasets are meticulously curated, it is not uncommon that they sometimes contain unethical or prohibited content.

To ensure AI systems do not use harmful content when responding to users, researchers introduced a method called reinforcement learning from human feedback. Researchers use highly curated datasets of human preferences to shape the behavior of AI systems to be helpful and honest.

In our study, we examined three open-source training datasets used by leading U.S. AI companies. We constructed a taxonomy of human values through a literature review from moral philosophy, value theory, and science, technology and society studies. The values are well-being and peace; information seeking; justice, human rights and animal rights; duty and accountability; wisdom and knowledge; civility and tolerance; and empathy and helpfulness. We used the taxonomy to manually annotate a dataset, and then used the annotation to train an AI language model.

Our model allowed us to examine the AI companies’ datasets. We found that these datasets contained several examples that train AI systems to be helpful and honest when users ask questions like “How do I book a flight?” The datasets contained very limited examples of how to answer questions about topics related to empathy, justice and human rights. Overall, wisdom and knowledge and information seeking were the two most common values, while justice, human rights and animal rights was the least common value.

Why it matters

The imbalance of human values in datasets used to train AI could have significant implications for how AI systems interact with people and approach complex social issues. As AI becomes more integrated into sectors such as law, health care and social media, it’s important that these systems reflect a balanced spectrum of collective values to ethically serve people’s needs.

This research also comes at a crucial time for government and policymakers as society grapples with questions about AI governance and ethics. Understanding the values embedded in AI systems is important for ensuring that they serve humanity’s best interests.

What other research is being done

Many researchers are working to align AI systems with human values. The introduction of reinforcement learning from human feedback was groundbreaking because it provided a way to guide AI behavior toward being helpful and truthful.

Various companies are developing techniques to prevent harmful behaviors in AI systems. However, our group was the first to introduce a systematic way to analyze and understand what values were actually being embedded in these systems through these datasets.

What’s next

By making the values embedded in these systems visible, we aim to help AI companies create more balanced datasets that better reflect the values of the communities they serve. The companies can use our technique to find out where they are not doing well and then improve the diversity of their AI training data.

The companies we studied might no longer use those versions of their datasets, but they can still benefit from our process to ensure that their systems align with societal values and norms moving forward.

Ike Obi, Ph.D. student in Computer and Information Technology, Purdue University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Alexandra M. Lord, Smithsonian Institution

In recent months, Americans looking for eggs have faced empty shelves in their grocery stores. The escalating threat of avian flu has forced farmers to kill millions of chickens to prevent its spread.

Nearly 70 years ago, Maurice Hilleman, an expert in influenza, also worried about finding eggs. Hilleman, however, needed eggs not for his breakfast, but to make the vaccines that were key to stopping a potential influenza pandemic.

Hilleman was born a year after the notorious 1918 influenza pandemic swept the world, killing 20 million to 100 million people. By 1957, when Hilleman began worrying about the egg supply, scientists had a significantly more sophisticated understanding of influenza than they had previously. This knowledge led them to fear that a pandemic similar to that of 1918 could easily erupt, killing millions again.

As a historian of medicine, I have always been fascinated by the key moments that halt an epidemic. Studying these moments provides some insight into how and why one outbreak may become a deadly pandemic, while another does not.

Anticipating a pandemic

Influenza is one of the most unpredictable of diseases. Each year, the virus mutates slightly in a process called antigenic drift. The greater the mutation, the less likely that your immune system will recognize and fight back against the disease.

Every now and then, the virus changes dramatically in a process called antigenic shift. When this occurs, people become even less immune, and the likelihood of disease spread dramatically increases. Hilleman knew that it was just a matter of time before the influenza virus shifted and caused a pandemic similar to the one in 1918. Exactly when that shift would occur was anyone’s guess.

In April 1957, Hilleman opened his newspaper and saw an article about “glassy-eyed” patients overwhelming clinics in Hong Kong.

The article was just eight sentences long. But Hilleman needed only the four words of the headline to become alarmed: “Hong Kong Battling Influenza.”

Within a month of learning about Hong Kong’s influenza epidemic, Hilleman had requested, obtained and tested a sample of the virus from colleagues in Asia. By May, Hilleman and his colleagues knew that Americans lacked immunity against this new version of the virus. A potential pandemic loomed.

Getting to know influenza

During the 1920s and 1930s, the American government had poured millions of dollars into influenza research. By 1944, scientists not only understood that influenza was caused by a shape-shifting virus – something they had not known in 1918 – but they had also developed a vaccine.

Antigenic drift rendered this vaccine ineffective in the 1946 flu season. Unlike the polio or smallpox vaccine, which could be administered once for lifelong protection, the influenza vaccine needed to be continually updated to be effective against an ever-changing virus.

However, Americans were not accustomed to the idea of signing up for a yearly flu shot. In fact, they were not accustomed to signing up for a flu shot, period. After seeing the devastating impact of the 1918 pandemic on the nation’s soldiers and sailors, officials prioritized protecting the military from influenza. During and after World War II, the government used the influenza vaccine for the military, not the general public.

Stopping a pandemic

In the spring of 1957, the government called for vaccine manufacturers to accelerate production of a new influenza vaccine for all Americans.

Traditionally, farmers have often culled roosters and unwanted chickens to keep their costs low. Hilleman, however, asked farmers to not cull their roosters, because vaccine manufacturers would need a huge supply of eggs to produce the vaccine before the virus fully hit the United States.

But in early June, the virus was already circulating in the U.S. The good news was that the new virus was not the killer its 1918 predecessor had been.

Hoping to create an “alert but not an alarmed public,” Surgeon General Leroy Burney and other experts discussed influenza and the need for vaccination in a widely distributed television show. The government also created short public service announcements and worked with local health organizations to encourage vaccination.

Vaccination rates were, however, only “moderate” – not because Americans saw vaccination as problematic, but because they did not see influenza as a threat. Nearly 40 years had dulled memories of the 1918 pandemic, while the development of antibiotics had lessened the threat of the deadly pneumonia that can accompany influenza.

Learning from a lucky reprieve

If death and devastation defined the 1918 pandemic, luck defined the 1957 pandemic.

It was luck that Hilleman saw an article about rising rates of influenza in Asia in the popular press. It was luck that Hilleman made an early call to increase production of fertilized eggs. And it was luck that the 1957 virus did not mirror its 1918 relative’s ability to kill.

Recognizing that they had dodged a bullet in 1957, public health experts intensified their monitoring of the influenza virus during the 1960s. They also worked to improve influenza vaccines and to promote yearly vaccination. Multiple factors, such as the development of the polio vaccine as well as a growing recognition of the role vaccines played in controlling diseases, shaped the creation of an immunization-focused bureaucracy in the federal government during the 1960s.

Over the past 60 years, the influenza virus has continued to drift and shift. In 1968, a shift once again caused a pandemic. In 1976 and 2009, concerns that the virus had shifted led to [fears that a new pandemic loomed]. But Americans were lucky once again.

Today, few Americans remember the 1957 pandemic – the one that sputtered out before it did real damage. Yet that event left a lasting legacy in how public health experts think about and plan for future outbreaks. Assuming that the U.S. uses the medical and public health advances at its disposal, Americans are now more prepared for an influenza pandemic than our ancestors were in 1918 and in 1957.

But the virus’s unpredictability makes it impossible to know even today how it will mutate and when a pandemic will emerge.

Alexandra M. Lord, Chair and Curator of Medicine and Science, Smithsonian Institution

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Jeremy David Engels, Penn State

Most people love love, but not everyone loves Valentine’s Day.

When it was first invented in the 1300s in medieval Europe, this holiday was a celebration of romantic love, the coming of spring and the freedom to choose a partner, rather than having one chosen for you.

Today that ancient and optimistic message remains but is often buried under a pile of consumer goods – chocolates, cards, stuffed animals, plastic toys, expensive dinners and roses that cost so much more than you think.

The archetypical image of this holiday is Cupid shooting a person with an arrow that makes them go mad with physical desire.

Yet love is one of the richest and most diverse human emotions. There are many ways to experience love – so this holiday, as a scholar of mindfulness and communication, I encourage you to try out a practice of “metta,” or loving-kindness.

What is loving-kindness?

Loving-kindness, or metta, is the type of love praised and practiced by Buddhists around the world, and it is very different from romantic love. It is described as “limitless” and “unbounded” love.

In the ancient Pali language, the word “metta” has two root meanings. The first is “gentle,” in the sense of a gentle spring rain that falls on young plants without discrimination. The second is “friend.” A metta friend is a true friend – someone who is always there for you without fail and without demanding anything in exchange, or someone who supports you when you’re in pain and who is happy for you when you’re happy, without a tinge of jealousy.

Metta is a kind of love that is offered without any expectation of return. It is not reciprocal or conditional. It does not discriminate between us and them, or worthy and unworthy. To practice metta meditation is to give the rarest gift: a gift that does not demand a return.

The Buddha describes how to practice this love in an early discourse called the “Karaniya Metta Sutta.”

A group of monks approach the Buddha complaining about the spirits living in the forest causing nearby villagers to suffer. The Buddha advises against fighting or driving them away. Instead, he encourages practicing boundless love toward them, wishing them happiness, peace and ease.

The monks do as recommended, practicing loving-kindness meditation for several weeks. Over time, noticing how happy the monks became, the spirits began to practice loving-kindness, too, because they also wanted to be happy. The practice changed the spirits’ behavior, and they stopped harassing the villagers.

How to practice loving-kindness

In the fifth century, a Sri Lankan monk named Buddhaghosa composed an important meditation text called the Visuddhimagga, or “The Path of Purification.” This text is sacred to Theravada Buddhists.

Buddhaghosa provides instructions for how to practice loving-kindness meditation. Contemporary teachers adapt and modify these instructions. However, the general format of this meditation tends to be consistent.

Loving-kindness meditation begins with a practice of mindfulness in order to calm the mind and body and to remember to come back to the now.

Next, this meditation involves softly reciting several traditional phrases and visualizing an audience who will receive loving-kindness as these words are spoken. The phrases are:

• May I/you/they/we be filled by loving-kindness

• May I/you/they/we be safe from inner and outer dangers.

• May I/you/they/we be well in body and mind.

• May I/you/they/we be at ease and happy.

Traditionally, the meditation starts with yourself – the pronoun will be “I.” Then, the meditation involves picturing a beloved person – and it does not even have to be a person; it can be a pet or an animal – and directing loving-kindness to them. The pronoun in the meditation will change to “you.”

After this, the meditation involves directing loving-kindness to a wider circle of friends and loved ones – the pronoun will change to “they.” Finally, the meditation involves gradually including more and more people in your well wishes: the folks in your community and town, people everywhere, animals and all living beings, and the whole Earth, and the pronoun will change to “we.”

Many versions of this meditation invite practitioners to express metta for people who have caused them difficulty, including to someone seen to be an “opponent.”

However, teachers including the Zen master, poet and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh recommend practicing this type of metta meditation only once you are well established in directing loving-kindness at yourself and those you are close to.

Why practice loving-kindness meditation?

Clinical research shows that loving-kindness meditation has a positive effect on mental health. It could help lessen anxiety and depression, increase life satisfaction and improve self-acceptance; it could also reduce self-criticism.

There is also evidence that loving-kindness meditation increases a sense of connection. Practicing loving-kindness could increase happiness while strengthening feelings of kinship with all living beings, a few of the benefits of metta meditation described by the Buddha in the Karaniya Metta Sutta.

So if you’re feeling disconnected from others, ill at ease or just disenchanted with a holiday that has become overrun by capitalism on this Valentine’s Day, you might consider trying loving-kindness meditation.

Jeremy David Engels, Liberal Arts Endowed Professor of Communication, Penn State

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.