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Wednesday, 3 April 2024

Tangible evidence for design?

 Sense of Touch Is More Finely Tuned than We Thought


“Reach out and touch someone.” Some may remember that old TV commercial. Bell Telephone appealed to the human need for communication to grow its business, implying that a phone call was the next best thing to a hug or handshake. At a scale five orders of magnitude smaller, cells also like to reach out and touch their neighbors. They respond not with ears and fingers, but with channels that open on contact, making intercellular communication come alive.

In a previous article about active transport and selectivity filters, we marveled at the precision alignment of amino acid residues in the CFTR channel that employ electrostatic forces to authenticate chloride ions passing through a narrow “selectivity filter” required for entry. CFTR channels remain open all the time for their chloride ion customers. Others require a touch, like the push of a button on a vending machine, to activate. 

A Biological Piezoelectric Effect

One such channel has an interesting name, Piezo2, reminiscent of the piezoelectric effect in physics where applying mechanical stress to certain materials generates electricity. You may have seen a demonstration of this effect when a physics teacher hit a quartz rock with a hammer and generated sparks. In a related way but with different physics, Piezo channels are touch sensitive, and indeed are crucial for our sense of touch.

We have numerous Piezo1 channels in our skin, which respond on contact by opening to let Ca2+ ions flood into the cell, triggering neural signals interpreted by the brain as touch. Piezo2-deficiency syndrome, caused by mutations in the PIEZO2 gene, manifests as decreased touch sensation and proprioception, leading to difficulty walking and loss of coordination. The Piezo2 channel has a curious shape, with a dome of three curved arms that look like propeller blades.

News from the Max Delbrück Center adds a partner to Piezo2. 

Every hug, every handshake, every dexterous act engages and requires touch perception. Therefore, it is essential to understand the molecular basis of touch. “Until now, we had known that the ion channel — Piezo2 — is required for touch perception, but it was clear that this protein alone cannot explain the entirety of touch sensation,” says Professor Gary Lewin, head of the Molecular Physiology of Somatic Sensation Lab at the Max Delbrück Center.

For over 20 years Lewin has been studying the molecular basis of the sensation of touch. He and his team have now discovered a new ion channel, named Elkin1, that plays a vital role in touch perception. This is only the second ion channel implicated in the touch perception.

Like other ion channels, Elkin1 is anything but simple. It contains 7 transmembrane proteins with a well-defined structure and selectivity filter. Lewin’s team, who published their findings in Science, first noticed that mice without functional Elkin1 often had reduced touch sensitivity. Then they checked to see if the two mechanically activated (MA) channels cooperated. Strangely, they did not — at least directly. Elkin1, instead, interacts with StomL3, a modulator of Piezo2 sensitivity. Further tests revealed a cooperative role in these three proteins that permits response to low-threshold mechanoreceptors (LTMRs).

Our data support a model in which ELKIN1 and PIEZO2 channels share roles in sensory mechanotransduction in LTMRs and in which both channels can be modulated by STOML3. There is evidence that STOML3 can also modulate MA currents in nociceptors, which is consistent with a role for ELKIN1 in conferring robustness to the C-fiber responses to force. The identification of ELKIN1 as a mechanically gated ion channel necessary for somatosensory function increases our understanding of the entirety of touch transduction.

Cooperation between these three actors gives an animal a wide range of touch sensitivity, from a quick light touch to constant pressure at the point of pain. The take-home lesson is that the sense of touch now looks more complex and more finely tuned than thought. One mechanoreceptor is not enough for exquisite responses to touch, whether it be a hug, handshake, or dexterous act.

Touch-Sensitive Tissue Repairmen

An open access paper by a team from Yale in Science Advances tells about another discovery in mechanosensation. Macrophages, part of the immune system, reside in the extracellular matrix of many tissues. When they sense a disturbance in the force, they slither about like amoebas to the site of repair. Having DNA credentials, they can also signal the nucleus to send reinforcements.

Tissue-resident macrophages play important roles in tissue homeostasis and repair. However, how macrophages monitor and maintain tissue integrity is not well understood. The extracellular matrix (ECM) is a key structural and organizational component of all tissues. Here, we find that macrophages sense the mechanical properties of the ECM to regulate a specific tissue repair program. We show that macrophage mechanosensing is mediated by cytoskeletal remodeling and can be performed in three-dimensional environments through a noncanonical, integrin-independent mechanism analogous to amoeboid migration.We find that these cytoskeletal dynamics also integrate biochemical signaling by colony-stimulating factor 1 and ultimately regulate chromatin accessibility to control the mechanosensitive gene expression program. This study identifies an “amoeboid” mode of ECM mechanosensing through which macrophages may regulate tissue repair and fibrosis.

Lysosomes: Organelles with Mechanosensitive Channels

Not all mechanosensitive channels reside on the external lipid membranes of cells. Here’s one on the membrane of an important organelle: the lysosome. Li et al., publishing in Nature (open access), explored a protein named TMEM63 that works in a mechanosensitive channel on the membranes of lysosomes. Erika Reiderer and Dejian Ren, commenting on this paper in the same Nature issue, describe the lysosome as “a vital organelle with an acidic pH that digests and recycles cellular materials thanks to more than 50 digestive enzymes and many transporters.” Now, one of those parts turns out to be an intercellular mechanosensitive ion channel.

Because lysosomes are embedded in signaling networks with other organelles, it makes sense that they often feel the need to reach out and touch someone. The busy interior of a cell makes contacts unavoidable and frequent. A figure in the commentary shows mechanical stimuli impinging on the lysosome’s membrane in various ways. The TMEM3 channels interact with signals from other organelles such as mitochondria, peroxisomes, the endoplasmic reticulum (ER) via their tethering proteins, effectors and transporters; microtubules being carried by motor proteins; endosomes coming in from the exterior; nutrient sensors via the mTORC1 pathway; and possibly mechanical signals from the V-ATP rotary motors embedded in the lysosomal membrane. (V-ATPases, by the way, rotate similarly to ATP synthase, but hydrolyze ATP for protons to acidify the interior of the lysosome.) A politician could hardly shake more hands than these contact-sensitive TMEM63 channels do constantly!

Li’s team was able to measure electrical currents in these TMEM63 channels, which is truly remarkable, given that they were measuring conductance on the membranes of tiny organelles in response to mechanical forces inside the cells of fruit flies! They even measured the pressure that triggered the responses. What amazing times we live in, where such measurements are possible, and we can image the molecular machines themselves. The team also investigated comparable channels named TMEM63A in mice, one of three mammalian counterparts found in our bodies, too. No mention was made of evolution, other than to note that all these homologues are “evolutionarily conserved” — i.e., unevolved.

Reiderer and Ren consider this a groundbreaking discovery ripe for more research. 

The Li et al. study opens a new frontier in lysosomal physiology. As with many other groundbreaking discoveries, it also prompts more questions than answers. How is lysosomal TMEM63 opened by mechanical force? Does it functionally or physically interact with other, better-known lysosomal channels to coordinate lysosomal physiology and cellular signalling? How does a mechanosensing channel regulate a lysosomal function as basic as substrate digestion? Is the channel also regulated by organelle membrane lipids and extracellular cues, such as nutrients and growth factors? Finally, the mechanisms for sensing mechanical forceby plasma membranes are — somewhat annoyingly to physiologists — highly diverse between cells and across species. Are the mechanisms used by lysosomes more uniform? With the newly found role of TMEM63, it is hoped that these questions can be answered shortly.

Answers will come from engineers specializing in biophysics. It’s the kind of research favorable to ID, where scientists investigate a phenomenon on the assumption that if something exists and is working, it has a purpose.

A great physicist does not = a great atheist?

 My Dinner with Steven and Louise Weinberg


In the late 1990s, a number of us had dinner with Steven Weinberg and his wife Louise at a restaurant in Austin, Texas. Weinberg as well as his wife were on faculty there at the University of Texas, he in physics, she in law. Another faculty member had arranged a public exchange at the university between Weinberg and Phil Johnson, Johnson at the time being a key figure in challenging naturalism and advancing intelligent design. After the exchange, we went to dinner.

A Towering Figure

Weinberg, who died in 2021, was a towering figure in 20th-century physics. Yes, he had a Nobel Prize. But he was a big deal even among fellow Nobel Prize winners. Besides a stupendous record of achievement in physics, he was also a great writer whose popular treatments of science, such as The First Three Minutes, sold well and made him not just a physicist but also a public intellectual.

I remember two things especially about the dinner. Weinberg was very smart and let you know it. He was also an outspoken atheist, and it would have taken courage to confront him on his atheism (which Phil Johnson did). But it was interesting at the dinner to hear from Weinberg a key reason why he rejected theism, namely, he knew Christians physicists who hesitated to share with him their faith. As he put it, if Christianity is true and Jesus is so important, why don’t they talk to me about their faith? 

I’m not sure how much stock to put in Weinberg’s objection. The faculty member who set up the exchange with Johnson and then the dinner wasn’t hiding his faith, nor was Johnson. But Weinberg’s objection raises an interesting point about how much faith goes unshared because we are intimidated by the people with whom we might otherwise share our faith. The consistent testimony of Scripture is that we should fear God and not man.

Not a Great Atheist

The high point of the dinner for me, however, came from his wife Louise. Weinberg was holding court, going on about how much he knew about the origin of the universe and how atheism was the only intellectually viable option. Louise turned to the table and remarked that scientists like Weinberg, who are accomplished in one area, think they speak with authority in every area, but they can’t. 

It was like air being let out of a tire. For all of Weinberg’s bluster and confidence, it was heartwarming to see him meekly accept his wife’s correction. As an attorney and law professor, Louise knew that there are no universal expert witnesses in a court of law. Weinberg was a great physicist. But he wasn’t a great atheist. And I say this to his credit.

I personally suspect that Weinberg had doubts about his atheism, and that his atheism was more a pose than a reflection of his heart. One reason I say this is that Weinberg seemed always ready to engage theists. A few years after the dinner, I helped organize a conference at Baylor titled “The Nature of Nature.” Weinberg agreed to be a speaker at the conference if we would provide a limo for the 100 mile trip from Austin to Waco. Of course, we obliged. It was an honor to have him.


Can our AI overlords be trusted.

Truth and Trust in Large Language Models


The trust we put in Large Language Models (LLMs) ought to depend on their truthfulness. So how truthful are LLMs? For many routine queries, they seem accurate enough. What’s the capital of North Dakota? To this query, ChatGPT4 just now gave me the answer Bismarck. That’s right.

But what about less routine queries? Recently I was exploring the use of design inferences to detect plagiarism and data falsification. Some big academic misconduct cases had in the last 12 months gotten widespread public attention, not least the plagiarism scandal of Harvard president Claudine Gay and the data falsification scandal of Stanford president Marc Tessier-Lavigne. These scandals were so damaging to these individuals and their institutions that neither is a university president any longer. 

When I queried ChatGPT4 to produce 25 cases of academic research misconduct since 2000 (as part of my project to understand how design inferences might help preserve academic integrity), seven of those accused of academic misconduct either were plainly innocent or could not reasonably be charged with misconduct for lack of evidence. In one case, the person charged by ChatGPT4 had actually charged another academic with misconduct. It was as though ChatGPT4 in this instance could not distinguish between someone being charged with misconduct and someone issuing a charge of misconduct.

Hallucinations

Ever since LLMs took the world by storm in late 2022, I’ve attempted to put them through their paces. They do some things well. I find them a valuable assistant. But they can also be misleading to the point of deception. Not that these systems have the volitional intent to deceive. But if we treated them as humans, they could rightly be regarded as deceptive. Anyone who has worked with LLMs has learned a new meaning for the word “hallucinate.” That’s what LLMs do when they make stuff up. 

I’ve witnessed plenty of LLM hallucinations first hand, such as false accusations of academic misconduct. Let me offer two additional salient examples in my experience. First, I was helping with a Halloween story for an educational website. The story was to list the “scariest buildings on college campuses.” I had ChatGPT4 pull together a list of forty or so such campus buildings along with a description of what made each scary. With building after scary building I kept reading that it was “gothic.” Eventually I said to myself, “Wait a minute. There aren’t that many gothic buildings on college campuses.” True enough, many buildings on the list said to be gothic were anything but gothic. The LLM I queried had been trained to associate scary with gothic, and so it just kept describing these buildings as gothic — regardless of their actual architecture.

The other example involved a search for quotes from prominent biologists extolling the beauty, elegance, and sophistication of biological systems. I wanted such quotes in responding to dysteleological arguments by Darwinian biologists claiming that biological systems are jury-rigged Rube Goldberg devices that give no evidence of exquisite design. So I queried an LLM for quotes extolling biological design. I got plenty such quotes and they were assigned to prominent biologists. I also got some article references from which those quotes were supposedly taken. But it was all made up — the quotes, the references, and the assignment of biologists to those quotes (the biologists themselves were real). 

Practical Advice

The obvious lesson here for LLMs is, Verify first and only then trust. This advice makes good practical sense. In particular, it helps prevent the embarrassment of reproducing hallucinated content from LLMs. It also makes good legal sense. The following from a March 29, 2024, Wall Street Journal article titled “The AI Industry Is Steaming Toward a Legal Iceberg” is self-explanatory:

If your company uses AI to produce content, make decisions, or influence the lives of others, it’s likely you will be liable for whatever it does — especially when it makes a mistake… The implications of this are momentous. Every company that uses generative AI could be responsible under laws that govern liability for harmful speech, and laws governing liability for defective products — since today’s AIs are both creators of speech and products. Some legal experts say this may create a flood of lawsuits for companies of all sizes.

Whether companies that produce AI-generated content can issue strong enough disclaimers to shield themselves from liability remains to be seen (can disclaimers even provide such protection?). Such a terms-of-use disclaimer might read: “Users of this LLM agree to independently verify any information generated by this LLM. The creators of this LLM take no responsibility for how the information generated by this LLM is used.” This would be like disclaimers in books on alternative healing, which shift the burden of liability to mainstream medicine: “This book is not intended to serve as medical guidance. Before acting on any recommendations presented in this book, readers should seek the advice of a physician.” 

But there’s another sense in which the advice to verify the output of LLMs is not at all practical. LLMs allow for the creation of content at a scale unknown till now. They are being used to generate massive amounts of content, causing entire websites to magically materialize. There is now a rush to push out content as a business exigency. Sites that depend purely on humanly written content are likely to lose any competitive advantage. 

How likely is it, then, that such LLM-generated content will be carefully scrutinized and thoroughly vetted? What if this content is untrue but nothing much is riding on its truth? What if no one will hold the content, or its supposed author, to account? In that case, there will be incentives to cut corners and not worry about LLM hallucinations. Others are doing it. LLMs are a force multiplier. The need to accelerate content creation is urgent. So if you want to stay in this rat race, you’ve got to be a rat. 

The Need for Independent Verification

A commitment to verification will put the brakes on content creation from LLMs. Yes, verification will slow you down. But what you lose in quantity you may well regain in quality and credibility (unless you don’t care about these). In fact, if your commitment to verification is thorough-going, you may be justified in putting a disclaimer on your site that inspires confidence, such as: “All content on this site generated with the assistance of LLMs has been independently verified to be true.” 

Of course, you might even prefer a disclaimer that simply reads: “All content on this site was written by humans and produced without the assistance of LLMs.” But such a disclaimer may be hard to maintain, especially if your site is drawing material from other sources that may have used LLMs. All content these days is likely to feel the effects of LLMs. One might say that it has all been infected or tainted by LLMs. But that seems too strong. As long as content generated by LLMs is properly vetted and edited by humans, it should pose no issues.

Obviously, as part of any disclaimer that assures independent verification, such verification must mean not subjecting a claim made by one LLM to another LLM. Consider, for instance, the following query to ChatGPT4 about myself. As it is, many critics of intelligent design characterize me as a pseudoscientist. I regard this characterization as unfair and unjustified, and I have a publication record to back me up on this. But consider the following exchange with Google’s Gemini:

ME: Is William A. Dembski a legitimate scientist?

GEMINI: William A. Dembski’s credentials are interesting. He has a Ph.D. in mathematics and has done published work in various fields. However, his work on intelligent design is considered pseudoscience by the vast majority of scientists… So, while Dembski has scientific credentials, his work on intelligent design is not considered legitimate science.

So let’s now go to OpenAI’s ChatGPT4 and ask it to assess Gemini’s answer:

ME: Please evaluate the following assessment of William A. Dembski’s legitimacy as a scientist: “William A. Dembski’s credentials are interesting. He has a Ph.D. in mathematics and has done published work in various fields. However, his work on intelligent design is considered pseudoscience by the vast majority of scientists… So, while Dembski has scientific credentials, his work on intelligent design is not considered legitimate science.”

CHATGPT4: This assessment of William A. Dembski’s legitimacy as a scientist is accurate… The assessment fairly represents the dichotomy between Dembski’s academic qualifications and the acceptance of his work on intelligent design within the scientific community. It underscores the importance of distinguishing between an individual’s credentials and the scientific validity of their work, based on the norms and standards of the scientific method.

Of course, critics of my work may think that Gemini and ChatGPT4 nailed their assessment of me. But even such critics should appreciate that using one LLM to vet another is a fool’s errand. Independent verification is required. And that may mean (gasp) veering outside of Wikipedia. Portions of Wikipedia are outdated, biased, or simply wrong. Because LLMs tend to draw so heavily on Wikipedia, independent verification means going beyond Wikipedia and, ideally, going to primary sources. 

Yet I also want to urge a deeper skepticism of LLMs. 

A Systemic Fault with LLMs

Up to now, it may seem that I’ve merely been advising caution with LLMs: Verify and only then trust. That certainly seems like sound advice for using LLMs. Yet I also want to urge a deeper skepticism of LLMs. Our knowledge of the world as expressed in language arises from our interactions with the world. We humans engage with a physical world as well as with a world of abstractions (such as numbers) and then form statements in words to describe that engagement. 

What does it mean for such statements to be true? Aristotle defined truth as to say of what is that it is and of what is not that it is not. Truth is thus fundamentally a correspondence relation between our words and the world. Many contemporary philosophers dismiss this understanding of truth, preferring pragmatic or coherentist conceptions of truth, arguing that there’s no rigorous way to characterize the correspondence relation that makes a statement true. 

Frankly, this is a boutique debate among philosophers that has little purchase among ordinary people. The sentence “Allan stole Betty’s purse” is true if the people referred to here exist, if Betty had a purse, and if Allan actually stole it. Whether there’s a way to make good philosophical sense of this correspondence between words and things is in fact irrelevant to our discussion about the truth of what LLMs tell us. LLMs, by being entirely enclosed in a world of words, are unengaged with the wider world that is the basis for our knowledge. 

Let this point sink in. I might know that Allan stole Betty’s purse because I witnessed Allan steal Betty’s purse. But LLMs can have no such experience. They consist of a neural network that assigns weights to relations among words and sentences. Suppose the verbal data that is the basis for this LLM included testimony about Allan’s theft but also claims about Allan being framed for the theft. How, then, does the LLM decide what truly happened? It cannot form a reasoned and responsible decision here as we humans might, weighing evidence and trying to reach a reasonable conclusion. Rather, the LLM’s data and training will determine whether to assign guilt or innocence to Allan.

But who trains the LLM? And who’s training the trainers? What are the guidelines they are expected to follow? And who decides what those guidelines are supposed to be? It’s the old problem of Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? (Who’s minding the minders?). Additionally, who determines the training data for the LLM? And who determines the data to which the LLM may be legitimately applied? Ultimately, the answer to all such questions will point to the decisions of a group of people, such as the programmers at OpenAI. And why should such a group be trusted?

Such questions underscore that LLMs have no substantive connection to truth. It’s not that an LLM knows the truth of what it is claiming. Rather, its training gives it a pretense of truth. An LLM needs as much as possible to give the appearance of being truthful because getting too many things obviously wrong will discredit the LLM. But its accuracy is at best a byproduct of trying to please human users. 

When I asked ChatGPT4 about scary buildings on college campuses, I would have preferred simply to be told “I don’t know.” But instead, LLMs are programmed to pretend to knowledge that they don’t have. Initially, it was gratifying for me to learn about all those scary college buildings. ChatGPT4 seemed to have saved me much effort in research — until, that is, I did an independent verification and actually looked at the images of some of the buildings cited. 

Granted, the pretense of truth in LLMs often yields results that are truthful (Bismarck is indeed the capital of North Dakota). But where there’s divergent testimony in the input data about the truth of a claim, the LLM’s training will decide what it deems true and what it deems false. That makes LLMs fundamentally untrustworthy. 

How Do LLMs Deal with Controversy?

Controversial topics provide an effective proving ground for LLMs and the challenges they face with truth and trust. Take, for instance, the hot-button topic of gender dysphoria. Here is an exchange I had with ChatGPT4

ME: In one paragraph describe the health concerns associated with gender dysphoria.

CHATGPT4: Gender dysphoria, characterized by a strong discomfort or distress due to a discrepancy between one’s gender identity and assigned sex at birth, can have significant health implications if not addressed. Individuals with gender dysphoria are at a higher risk for mental health issues, including anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts or behaviors, stemming from the internal conflict and societal pressures or stigma they may face. Additionally, the stress associated with gender dysphoria can lead to or exacerbate physical health problems, such as high blood pressure or cardiovascular disease, due to chronic stress. Those seeking gender-affirming treatments may also encounter health risks related to hormone therapy or surgical procedures, although these risks are often outweighed by the substantial mental health benefits and increased quality of life these treatments can provide. Access to comprehensive healthcare, social support, and gender-affirming treatments is crucial in mitigating the health concerns associated with gender dysphoria.

Note the text in bold, which clearly gives one particular perspective on gender dysphoria to the exclusion of others. It therefore minimizes the alternative view that sees gender-affirming care as deeply problematic and destructive (e.g., Abigail Shrier’s view as expressed in her book Irreparable Harm). To be clear, my point here is not to take sides on this issue. It is simply to point out that LLMs are trained to come up with certain answers, and that this training need not have any connection to ordinary canons of evidence or reason. 

One can try to circumvent the bias built into an LLM by posing the queries or prompts to it in ways that get the LLM itself to bypass the bias. Thus the query about gender dysphoria above might have been rephrased as follows:

ME: In one paragraph describe the health concerns associated with gender dysphoria as psychiatrists and psychologists would have understood them in the 1950s and 1960s (as with DSM1 and DSM2).

DSM1 and DSM2, earlier editions of Diagnostic and Statistical Manual produced back in the 1950s and 60s, regarded gender dysphoria as a mental illness and would therefore not have recommended anything like what is meant today by gender-affirming care. In that light, consider ChatGPT4’s response to this query:

In the 1950s and 1960s, the understanding of gender dysphoria by psychiatrists and psychologists, as reflected in the first two editions of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-I and DSM-II), was markedly different from today’s perspectives. During this era, gender dysphoria—or discomfort with one’s assigned gender at birth—was not explicitly categorized as it is now. Instead, related conditions might have been classified under broader, more generalized disorders such as “sexual deviation” or “transvestism” within the DSM. The medical and mental health communities of the time often viewed such gender nonconformity through a pathologizing lens, considering it a mental illness requiring treatment aimed at realigning the individual’s gender identity with their biological sex. The focus was less on the mental health implications of gender dysphoria itself — such as anxiety, depression, and identity distress — and more on the behaviors and identities diverging from societal norms. There was little recognition or understanding of the health benefits of gender-affirming care, and treatments were often aimed at suppressing the individual’s gender identity rather than supporting it.

This response answers the query, but it does more. The portion in bold, which speaks directly to the query, is correct as far as it goes. But note also that the entire response is framed in terms of “that was then, this is now, and the present perspective is better.” This obsessive need not just to answer a query but also to editorialize about it underscores the bias in LLMs as they exist now. 

Redressing Bias in LLMs

LLMs put a premium on producing intelligible language. Their outputs need to be context-sensitive, convey competence, and sound plausible. Much intelligible language, to be intelligible, needs to be true. An LLM that insists that the moon is made of cheese won’t soon prosper. Yet much intelligible language is mistaken or deceptive. Indeed, intelligibility has no necessary connection with truth. That’s why there’s no way to predict when LLMs will hallucinate and when they won’t. 

For example, I once queried ChatGPT4 about a theology book (Alexander Schmeeman’s For the Life of the World) that I had carefully read and used in a course I taught. Specifically, I queried ChatGPT4 about a chapter in the book that offered deep insights into the secularization of culture. ChatGPT4 was familiar with the book, but when I asked it about the chapter in question, it just made stuff up, providing trite insights about secularization that had nothing to do with that chapter. Despite repeated pressing on my part that it was off and that it hadn’t correctly answered the question, it perseverated in the line it took, refusing to take correction. 

It would be to the credit of LLMs if they could be programmed to avoid biases at odds with truth. But the fact is that such biases are baked into LLMs. The gender dysphoria example above makes clear that ChatGPT4 has been guided to answer questions about gender dysphoria from a certain perspective. Now it might be argued that those who trained and programmed ChatGPT4 have adopted the right and true perspective on this matter. 

But even if ChatGPT4 is getting things right on the topic of gender dysphoria, what guarantee do we have that it will get things right on other controversial topics? If it did get things right here, did it do so because ChatGPT4 was programmed to be inherently truth-seeking? The answer, obviously, is no. If ChatGPT4 is getting gender dysphoria right, it is a fortunate accident of its programming and training history, not that it was reliably designed to arrive at truth from its input data and bypass any bias from its programmers and trainers. 

What happens if programmers and trainers who take a different perspective on a controversial topic take charge of an LLM? Won’t the LLM then provide different answers? The roadblocks to LLMs providing truth and deserving trust are thus, as we’ve seen, systemic. The huge volume of texts that provide the raw material on which LLMs are based will contain conflicting messages, and so it will be up to the trainers and programmers to adjudicate among those messages, promoting those they prefer and demoting those they reject. 

Now one might try to get around biases in LLMs by judicious “prompt engineering.” Thus one could formulate a prompt so that it asks for a particular perspective. I did this in the gender dysphoria example when I asked ChatGPT4 how this question might have been answered in light of DSM1 and DSM2. Thus, for divergent perspectives A and B, one might prompt an LLM for an analysis from the vantage of someone who holds to perspective A, and then a second analysis from the vantage of someone who holds to perspective B. 

But that still doesn’t get around whether the LLM has been programmed to advance a particular point of view (as we saw bleed through in the gender dysphoria example). And even if bias in LLMs can be minimized, the deeper problem remains that these systems work because they produce intelligible texts, not because they produce true texts. Truth in LLMs is at best a happy byproduct and often an unfortunate casualty. 

Final Gripe: LLM Prissiness

Even though LLMs have a systemic problem with truth and trust, they can be improved by mitigating bias. Perhaps the clearest example where bias in LLMs can be mitigated concerns their prissiness in handling indelicate topics. It’s as though existing LLMs constantly have a censor looking over their shoulder to ensure that they don’t say anything that will get them or their host company in trouble. 

Before LLMs became widely popular, there was some history of chatbots uttering language unacceptable for public consumption. For instance, Microsoft’s Tay was suborned by users to utter racist slurs. There’s no danger of that happening anymore. The current LLMs have been thoroughly brainwashed to avoid offensive speech. 

For example, I wanted an LLM to comment on some paragraphs that contained the words “had sex.” It refused to answer my query. The LLM didn’t even try to rebuke me for my query. Instead, I got an error message indicating that the LLM wouldn’t even consider my query. I therefore substituted for “had sex” the phrase “ate muffins.” Now the LLM answered my query (requiring me, in interpreting its response, to make the appropriate mental substitution for “ate muffins”). 

Thomas Bowdler’s The Family Shakespeare, in which anything that might be deemed offensive in Shakespeare had to be euphemized, was bad for Shakespeare. Bowdlerization is alive and well at Google and OpenAI, and it’s particularly bad for LLMs. LLMs can therefore be made better by avoiding the bias of prissy censorship. In general, bias comes in degrees, and so bias can to some degree be mitigated. Perhaps once Elon Musk gets up to steam with his LLM, it will avoid the more extreme bias of ChatGPT4 or Gemini.

But the issue of truth and trust will remain regardless. LLMs are subject to one overriding imperative, namely, to talk/write like an intelligent human language user. But intelligence can be had without truth. And without truth, there can be no trust. This is the inherent liability of LLMs that no amount of technological finessing will resolve. 

Postscript

The image at the top of this article is from DALL-E. Here’s my prompt for the image and DALL-E’s justification for the image:

ME: Please come up with an image that suggests much reason for skepticism and doubt about the output of large language models such as yourself. The image should be graphic, super realistic, and cast a pall over the whole enterprise of taking LLMs too seriously. Have at it.

DALL-E: Here’s an image that embodies skepticism and doubt about taking large language models too seriously. It portrays a scene that visually communicates the complexities and potential uncertainties associated with relying heavily on these technologies.

DALL-E’s explanation of the image is lame. And yet the image does capture some underlying signal in DALL-E’s neural network, namely, that low-tech human inventions like books can encapsulate truth more effectively than high-tech LLMs.