David Hastings's Blog
June 19, 2023
First Impressions
In 1877 Paris, a struggling artist by the name of Camille Pissarro was so desperate to create interest in his paintings that he decided to raffle one. He was part of an emerging school of artists known as the Impressionists who were getting a hard time from the critics.
One described them as “six madmen and a mad woman” and their works were routinely rejected for inclusion in the most important exhibitions.
The general opinion of their work was so low that you could pick up a painting by Claude Monet for as little as 35 francs and Pissarro’s paintings were even cheaper at seven or ten francs apiece.
Then Pissarro held his raffle but it did not solve the problem. A little girl was the winner and unfortunately, she shared the opinion of the art critics and rejected the painting and asked for a cream bun instead.
It is not known whether she ever lived to realise her mistake or, indeed, whether the Parisian art critics ever regretted pouring scorn on the Impressionists. But the Impressionist painters eventually became admired as among the greatest artists in all history and today their works fetch prices that match their reputation.
For instance, a Pissarro painting titled “Boulevard Montmartre, Spring Morning” sold at auction for US$32 million in 2014. Works of other Impressionists can fetch far more. Four years later a Monet titled “Meules” (Haystacks) went for US$110.7 million.
It just goes to show that there is a lot of truth in the old saying, first impressions are not always best.
Look Back: How to talk about the past in English B1-C1
One described them as “six madmen and a mad woman” and their works were routinely rejected for inclusion in the most important exhibitions.
The general opinion of their work was so low that you could pick up a painting by Claude Monet for as little as 35 francs and Pissarro’s paintings were even cheaper at seven or ten francs apiece.
Then Pissarro held his raffle but it did not solve the problem. A little girl was the winner and unfortunately, she shared the opinion of the art critics and rejected the painting and asked for a cream bun instead.
It is not known whether she ever lived to realise her mistake or, indeed, whether the Parisian art critics ever regretted pouring scorn on the Impressionists. But the Impressionist painters eventually became admired as among the greatest artists in all history and today their works fetch prices that match their reputation.
For instance, a Pissarro painting titled “Boulevard Montmartre, Spring Morning” sold at auction for US$32 million in 2014. Works of other Impressionists can fetch far more. Four years later a Monet titled “Meules” (Haystacks) went for US$110.7 million.
It just goes to show that there is a lot of truth in the old saying, first impressions are not always best.
Look Back: How to talk about the past in English B1-C1
May 26, 2023
Context is everything
In town the other day, I was standing at a set of traffic lights waiting to cross the road when I overheard a conversation between two men standing right behind me.
One of the men was fifty-something, unshaven with wispy grey hair and dressed in a shabby fake leather coat. He was telling the other man, who was much younger, how he had hated his time in prison and advising him to avoid it at all costs.
Sage advice, indeed, and naturally it got me wondering what he had done to wind up behind bars.
The lights changed, and we crossed the road together, me walking a pace or two ahead of the others with the grizzled old man talking loudly and openly about life in the can.
He didn’t like the guards, for starters. They were always watching him closely, especially for any signs that he might communicate with other prisoners, which made me think he must have done something exceptionally bad.
And he recalled on one occasion how he was in a lift and several guards insisted on being there as well; they were intimidating and so big he found he could hardly move.
Although he never said exactly what he had served time for, he began saying things that suggested he was some kind of big-time burglar or safe cracker because he was giving advice to his young friend on the type of tools he needed.
Suddenly I was worried. Here I was, apparently eavesdropping on a couple of villains planning the robbery of the century. How long would it be before they noticed that everywhere they went, I went too and that I could hear just about every word they said.
When they paused before crossing the next street, so did I. When they crossed, I followed. And when they turned up a side street, that was exactly the way I was going.
My imagination was running wild, and I saw myself being caught up in a real-life version of one of those thriller stories in which an innocent bystander witnesses a crime, or hears a plot being fomented, and then becomes the target of the criminals.
I was urgently seeking a way to part company with my light-fingered friends when the grey old man eased the tension.
“I once left my spanner outside,” he said, “and you wouldn’t believe the security rigmarole to leave the prison and then come back in. Those guards just kept me waiting as though I wasn’t there. Three hours I had to wait. Three hours just to get a spanner. So, remember, if you ever get that job, be sure to take in everything you need the first time.”
He was not a criminal mastermind after all, but a tradesman who had been called to fix something in the jail. A plumber, perhaps.
A moment later the full truth was revealed when the two men came to their ute parked on the side of the road. On the door was the logo of a well-known lift manufacturer. So that was it, not criminals, nor plumbers but lift maintenance technicians!
Phew! What a relief that was. But even better, the story came with a neat moral: context is everything.
One of the men was fifty-something, unshaven with wispy grey hair and dressed in a shabby fake leather coat. He was telling the other man, who was much younger, how he had hated his time in prison and advising him to avoid it at all costs.
Sage advice, indeed, and naturally it got me wondering what he had done to wind up behind bars.
The lights changed, and we crossed the road together, me walking a pace or two ahead of the others with the grizzled old man talking loudly and openly about life in the can.
He didn’t like the guards, for starters. They were always watching him closely, especially for any signs that he might communicate with other prisoners, which made me think he must have done something exceptionally bad.
And he recalled on one occasion how he was in a lift and several guards insisted on being there as well; they were intimidating and so big he found he could hardly move.
Although he never said exactly what he had served time for, he began saying things that suggested he was some kind of big-time burglar or safe cracker because he was giving advice to his young friend on the type of tools he needed.
Suddenly I was worried. Here I was, apparently eavesdropping on a couple of villains planning the robbery of the century. How long would it be before they noticed that everywhere they went, I went too and that I could hear just about every word they said.
When they paused before crossing the next street, so did I. When they crossed, I followed. And when they turned up a side street, that was exactly the way I was going.
My imagination was running wild, and I saw myself being caught up in a real-life version of one of those thriller stories in which an innocent bystander witnesses a crime, or hears a plot being fomented, and then becomes the target of the criminals.
I was urgently seeking a way to part company with my light-fingered friends when the grey old man eased the tension.
“I once left my spanner outside,” he said, “and you wouldn’t believe the security rigmarole to leave the prison and then come back in. Those guards just kept me waiting as though I wasn’t there. Three hours I had to wait. Three hours just to get a spanner. So, remember, if you ever get that job, be sure to take in everything you need the first time.”
He was not a criminal mastermind after all, but a tradesman who had been called to fix something in the jail. A plumber, perhaps.
A moment later the full truth was revealed when the two men came to their ute parked on the side of the road. On the door was the logo of a well-known lift manufacturer. So that was it, not criminals, nor plumbers but lift maintenance technicians!
Phew! What a relief that was. But even better, the story came with a neat moral: context is everything.
May 7, 2023
Talking to the machine
Prophets of doom are having a field day with the advent of ChatGPT and other forms of advanced AI. It’s the greatest existential threat to humanity, they say, since … well, since the last greatest existential threat to humanity. From my experience, however, I think it could be quite the opposite. Rather than leading us to perdition, it could well be the saving of us.
The other day by way of an experiment, I asked ChatGPT to explain the spelling of the words “practice” and “practise” in English which often cause confusion among learners and native speakers alike. “The confusion might come from the fact that in American English, both the verb and the noun form are spelled with a ‘c’,” came the reply, “whereas in British English, the verb form is spelled with a ‘c’ and the noun form is spelled with an ‘s’.”
No, no, no, said I. You are mistaken. It is the other way around. In British English it is the verb that is spelled with an ‘s’ and the noun that is spelled with a ‘c’.
The machine was quick to recognise the error of its ways and not only correct itself but also offer profuse apologies. “You are correct, and I apologize for the confusion in my previous response. I made an error in my explanation,” it said. “You are right that the noun form of the word is spelled with a ‘c’ in both American and British English, while the verb form is spelled with an ‘s’ in British English … Thank you for bringing this to my attention, and I apologize for any confusion I may have caused.”
To many people the danger of AI lies not so much in the fact that it can make elementary mistakes (and presumably much more serious ones as well), but the way it mimics the human tone like this. Not only does it sound human, but I have heard that some people who have engaged it in conversation are referring to it as “he”, so not only human but a man!
However, they are doubly mistaken. ChatGPT is not a man, it’s a machine and so its pronoun should be “it”. And, of course, it’s not human either. Despite what people say, its reactions are not human-like at all.
Take the example above. At first blush the machine’s reaction to having a mistake brought to its attention seems very human. But think about it for a moment, do people really react like that when having their silly mistakes pointed out to them? Do you?
I think this same conversation with a human would go more like this:
Joe: What’s the difference between “practice” with a “c” and “practise” with an “s”?
Sam: In British English the noun is “practise” with an “s”, and the verb has a “c” as in “practice”. In the United States both noun and verb have “c”.
Joe: No, you’re wrong. Surely in English it’s the verb that’s spelled with an “s” and the noun that’s spelled with a “c”.
Sam: Don’t be silly. It’s the other way round. Don’t you know anything?
Joe: I’m pretty sure I’m right. The verb “practise” has an “s” in British English.
Sam: No, way.
Joe: Yes, it has.
Sam: No, it hasn’t.
Joe: Yes.
Sam: No.
Joe: Tell you what, let’s look it up. Here’s the Concise Oxford Dictionary. See, I’m right. The verb is spelled “practise” in British English.
Sam: What would they know about it?
Joe: It’s the Oxford Dictionary, Sam. They know everything about it.
Sam: Bunch of idiots if you ask me.
Joe: Come on Sam, don’t be silly.
Sam: And you’re just as bad.
Sam then raises his voice and calls Joe all sorts of names, compares him to the followers of a couple of notorious European dictators in the 1930s and 40s, and casts aspersions on the morality of his parents as well as his general lack of intelligence before storming out of the room and slamming the door as he goes. Joe, in turn, bangs the dictionary down on his desk and mutters similar insults about Sam.
That is what the human reaction looks like. Humans resent criticism and become defensive at the first hint of it. But if cornered, they go on the attack and resort to irrelevant arguments and finally, when pressed, often respond with a tirade of personal insults, thus, making everything worse.
If there is an existential threat to humanity, as so many people are saying, it is much more likely to come from humans themselves rather than a machine which accepts criticism, quickly corrects its mistakes, and apologises profusely. Pouring oil on troubled waters, as the saying goes.
Far from being a threat, these cool, calm and unemotional machines, may well end up saving us from ourselves!
The other day by way of an experiment, I asked ChatGPT to explain the spelling of the words “practice” and “practise” in English which often cause confusion among learners and native speakers alike. “The confusion might come from the fact that in American English, both the verb and the noun form are spelled with a ‘c’,” came the reply, “whereas in British English, the verb form is spelled with a ‘c’ and the noun form is spelled with an ‘s’.”
No, no, no, said I. You are mistaken. It is the other way around. In British English it is the verb that is spelled with an ‘s’ and the noun that is spelled with a ‘c’.
The machine was quick to recognise the error of its ways and not only correct itself but also offer profuse apologies. “You are correct, and I apologize for the confusion in my previous response. I made an error in my explanation,” it said. “You are right that the noun form of the word is spelled with a ‘c’ in both American and British English, while the verb form is spelled with an ‘s’ in British English … Thank you for bringing this to my attention, and I apologize for any confusion I may have caused.”
To many people the danger of AI lies not so much in the fact that it can make elementary mistakes (and presumably much more serious ones as well), but the way it mimics the human tone like this. Not only does it sound human, but I have heard that some people who have engaged it in conversation are referring to it as “he”, so not only human but a man!
However, they are doubly mistaken. ChatGPT is not a man, it’s a machine and so its pronoun should be “it”. And, of course, it’s not human either. Despite what people say, its reactions are not human-like at all.
Take the example above. At first blush the machine’s reaction to having a mistake brought to its attention seems very human. But think about it for a moment, do people really react like that when having their silly mistakes pointed out to them? Do you?
I think this same conversation with a human would go more like this:
Joe: What’s the difference between “practice” with a “c” and “practise” with an “s”?
Sam: In British English the noun is “practise” with an “s”, and the verb has a “c” as in “practice”. In the United States both noun and verb have “c”.
Joe: No, you’re wrong. Surely in English it’s the verb that’s spelled with an “s” and the noun that’s spelled with a “c”.
Sam: Don’t be silly. It’s the other way round. Don’t you know anything?
Joe: I’m pretty sure I’m right. The verb “practise” has an “s” in British English.
Sam: No, way.
Joe: Yes, it has.
Sam: No, it hasn’t.
Joe: Yes.
Sam: No.
Joe: Tell you what, let’s look it up. Here’s the Concise Oxford Dictionary. See, I’m right. The verb is spelled “practise” in British English.
Sam: What would they know about it?
Joe: It’s the Oxford Dictionary, Sam. They know everything about it.
Sam: Bunch of idiots if you ask me.
Joe: Come on Sam, don’t be silly.
Sam: And you’re just as bad.
Sam then raises his voice and calls Joe all sorts of names, compares him to the followers of a couple of notorious European dictators in the 1930s and 40s, and casts aspersions on the morality of his parents as well as his general lack of intelligence before storming out of the room and slamming the door as he goes. Joe, in turn, bangs the dictionary down on his desk and mutters similar insults about Sam.
That is what the human reaction looks like. Humans resent criticism and become defensive at the first hint of it. But if cornered, they go on the attack and resort to irrelevant arguments and finally, when pressed, often respond with a tirade of personal insults, thus, making everything worse.
If there is an existential threat to humanity, as so many people are saying, it is much more likely to come from humans themselves rather than a machine which accepts criticism, quickly corrects its mistakes, and apologises profusely. Pouring oil on troubled waters, as the saying goes.
Far from being a threat, these cool, calm and unemotional machines, may well end up saving us from ourselves!
