A Simple Truth We Can Learn from Chess Regarding the Future of AI

Magnus Carlsen, the current world chess champion, has an IQ of 190.

But that's not nearly enough to beat AI. The last time a grandmaster beat a top-level chess computer (Ponomariov vs. "Fritz") was in 2005. After that, computers had the upper hand, and humans consequently stopped trying.

Yet, I'd wager most people know who Magnus Carlsen is.

People haven't stopped watching chess games. In fact, interest and demand have even increased (people could hardly avoid the popular series "The Queen's Gambit" during the pandemic). Even though chess computers (such as Stockfish or Leela Chess Zero) reign supreme, there seems to be something about those silly little humans battling each other.

That something is entertainment.

Computers don't watch chess games. Humans do. Therefore, chess games must entertain humans — and we love a good story: two characters fighting each other, protagonist vs. antagonist, struggle, surprising outcomes, and sudden turns of events. Just like in a Hollywood movie, we can watch Magnus Carlsen nibble his nails before making a move and wrinkle his nose after being defeated (once in a blue moon, he does lose a game).

Any profession whose true value goes beyond plain results is safe from AI.

Heaving a box onto a rack, translating a text, or driving a car to a destination? The value is in the end result. AI will take over.

Writing a story, playing music, even waiting tables in a classy restaurant? The value is in the entertainment. Humans will endure.

We will admire the creativity of the writer, the craftsmanship of the concert pianist, and the professionalism of the waiter. Those traits don't come easily, therefore, we cherish them. An AI, on the other hand, gets those traits by default. There was no struggle, so they have no meaning.

As long as humans continue being the judges, entertainment by people can't be replaced.

I write articles.
If you want, I'll mail them to you.

I will never pass your email to any third-party, and I promise to never send you spam.

© Julian Domke, 2024