2084 DIO, L'INTELLIGENZA

ARTIFICIALE E IL FUTURO
DELL'UMANITÀ John C. Lennox
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1
 JOHN C. LENNOX

3
DIO, L'INTELLIGENZA ARTIFICIALE
E IL FUTURO DELL'UMANITÀ

ADI Media
Titolo originale:
Originally published in English under thè title
“2084"
Published by arrangement with
The Zondervan Corporation L.L.C.
a subsidiary of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Ine.
3900 Sparks Dr. SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546 - U.S.A.
Copyright c 2020 by John C. Lennox
All rights reserved

Edizione italiana:
“2084”
Dio, l'intelligenza Artificiale e il futuro dell’umanità

© ADl-Media
Via della Formica, 23 - 00155 Roma
Tel. 06 2251825 - 06 2284970
Fax 06 2251432
Email: [email protected]
Internet: wwrv.adi-media.it

Servizio Pubblicazioni delle

Chiese Cristiane Evangeliche
"Assemblee di Dio in Italia”

Maggio 2021 - Tutti i Diritti Riservati

Traduzione: A cura dell’Editore - M.C.

Tutte le citazioni bibliche, salvo che

non sia indicato diversamente, sono tratte
dalla Bibbia Versione Nuova Riveduta - Ed. 2006
Società Biblica di Ginevra - Svizzera

Stampa: Rotomail Italia S.p.A. - Vignate (MI)

ISBN 978 88 3306 202 0

 PREFAZIONE DELL’EDITORE ITALIANO

A uesto libro di John Lennox, che va ad arricchire la corposa

U opera di natura apologetica cui l’autore britannico si è de­
dicato, ha lo scopo di esporre la prospettiva cristiana riguardo
temi che, apparentemente e per ragioni storico-culturali, pos­
sono sembrare assai lontani dai contenuti strettamente biblici.
Come possiamo, infatti, coniugare la dottrina biblica con il
progresso tecnologico e gli scenari legati allo sviluppo dell’In-
telligenza Artificiale? Che cosa può dirci la Parola di Dio a
proposito dell’uso degli algoritmi, riguardo al connubio sem­
pre più stretto fra la dimensione umana e quella digitale, non­
ché sui progressi della robotica?
L’immutabilità e la validità eterna delle Scritture ci ven­
gono in aiuto di fronte a questi quesiti: è la concezione biblica
del valore dell’uomo, creato a immagine e somiglianza di Dio,
che ci permette di considerare la differenza che intercorre fra
noi e le macchine, senza essere abbagliati eccessivamente
dalle capacità di quest’ultime. Sono i contenuti morali espressi
dalla Parola che ci spingono a riflettere sulla necessità di una
precisa direzione etica nella programmazione dell’intelligenza
artificiale. Sono le verità escatologiche rivelate che ci aiutano

5
2084 ■ DIO, L'INTELLIGENZA ARTIFICIALE E IL FUTURO DELL'UMANITÀ

a identificare la vera natura degli scenari transumanisti, ispi­

rati al progetto di un dominio umano pervasivo.
Nella parte conclusiva del libro, l’autore sviluppa un’arti­
colata esposizione della visione biblica del mondo, dopo aver
riflettuto a lungo nel tentativo di inquadrare l’attuale condi­
zione (e le possibilità future) del progresso tecnologico. Len-
nox descrive, in maniera rigorosa ma comprensibile, il
complesso delle ricerche scientifiche e delle elaborazioni cul­
turali che ruotano intorno allo sviluppo delle tecnologie ba­
sate sull’intelligenza artificiale. Nei primi sette capitoli del
libro, nei quali viene dato ampio spazio a scienziati, ricerca­
tori, futurologi e tecnologi, l’autore fa costante riferimento a
opere letterarie che affrontano vari temi scientifici volti a di­
vulgare l’idea secolare ed atea che ispira buona parte del
mondo tecnologico: il desiderio di potenziare l’essere umano,
per fargli acquisire prerogative divine, rigettando qualsiasi
autorità e rifiutando ogni riferimento a Dio.
Un testo come quello che avete fra le mani può rappre­
sentare un utile strumento culturale, e una precisa guida sul
piano dottrinale, per accrescere la consapevolezza su temi di
grande attualità e sulle posizioni che dovremmo adottare
come cristiani. La ricchezza dei riferimenti scientifici e cul­
turali, in ogni caso, non deve trarre in inganno il lettore: il
fondamento dell’intera riflessione risuona nel monito che
l’apostolo Paolo rivolge a Timoteo: "Ricordati di Gesù Cristo,
risorto dai morti” (II Timoteo 2:8).

6
 INTRODUZIONE

A uesto libro è un tentativo di rispondere alle domande

U sulla direzione che l'umanità sta prendendo riguardo agli
sviluppi in campo tecnologico, bioingegneristico e, in parti­
colare, deH’intelligenza artificiale. Ci si chiede: “Saremo in
grado di costruire la vita artificiale e la superintellingenza?”;
“gli umani saranno in grado di modificare sé stessi per diven­
tare completamente diversi?”; "quali implicazioni emergono
dallo sviluppo della intelligenza artificiale (1A) alla luce della
nostra visione del mondo e di Dio?”
Spero che il titolo, di ispirazione orwelliana, non sembri
pretenzioso poiché il mio libro non è un romanzo distopico
né, tantomeno, io sono George Orwell. In realtà, il titolo mi
fu suggerito da un collega di Oxford, il professor Peter At-
kins, mentre eravamo impegnati, da prospettive diverse, in
un dibattito dal titolo: “La scienza può spiegare tutto?”.* Sono
debitore, a questo mio collega, dell’idea, alla luce di parecchi
incontri pubblici anche piuttosto serrati, volti ad affrontare
varie tematiche riguardanti la scienza e Dio.

* Si veda John C. Lennox, La scienza può spiegare tutto? ADl-Media, Ro­

ma, gennaio 2020. N.d.E.

7
2084 ■ DIO, L'INTELLIGENZA ARTIFICIALE E IL FUTURO DELL'UMANITÀ

Mi considero in debito anche con altre persone, fra cui la

Dr.ssa Rosalind Picard del Media Laboratory del MIT per i
suoi puntuali commenti. Fra gli altri includo i professori
David Cranston, Danny Crookes, Jeremy Gibbons, il Dr.
David Glass e il mio, sempre prezioso assistente di ricerca, il
Dr. Simon Wenham.
Le mie competenze personali riguardano essenzialmente
la matematica e la filosofia della scienza, non l’IA e il lettore,
soprattutto quello esperto in materia, potrebbe rimanere
perplesso di fronte al fatto che io decida di “invadere” il
campo altrui. Chiarisco subito che le mie intenzioni, poiché
mi sembra che ci siano vari livelli di approccio e coinvolgi­
mento rispetto al tema dell’IA: ci sono i pensatori "pioneri-
stici” e gli esperti che effettivamente elaborano i software
usati nei sistemi di IA; poi ci sono quelli che comprendono
le potenzialità dellìA e che lavorano a nuove applicazioni; e
infine ci sono altri che, anche in assenza di una formazione
scientifica rigorosa, si occupano di divulgare considerazioni
sul valore e l’impatto sociale, economico ed etico dell’I A.
È chiaro che non è necessario sapere come si costruisce
un veicolo o un’arma autonomi per potersi formare un’opi­
nione sulle conseguenze etiche del loro utilizzo. Non serve
saper programmare un sistema di tracciamento degli acquisti
artificiale per farsi un’opinione sulla questione della privacy.
Infatti, è grande l’attenzione da parte dei lettori più rifles­
sivi nell’ambito della divulgazione scientifica a livello pub­
blico. È proprio a questo livello che vorrei posizionare il
presente libro e sono debitore verso tutti quelli che, da ad­
detti ai lavori, hanno già trattato questi argomenti nei loro
scritti.

8
 Capitolo 1

I CONFINI DEL DIBATTITO

k I oi umani siamo insaziabilmente curiosi. Sin dagli albori

11 della storia, ci poniamo domande riguardanti le nostre
origini e il destino finale: “Da dove provengo? Dove sto an­
dando?”. L’importanza di queste domande è ovvia e, mentre
la risposta alla prima modella la concezione di chi siamo,
la seconda ci fornisce gli obiettivi per cui vivere. Prese as­
sieme, le risposte a queste domande fissano la nostra vi­
sione del mondo, la narrazione che dà significato alla nostra
esistenza.
Il problema è che queste non sono domande semplici, e
ce ne rendiamo conto dal fatto che vengono fornite molte ri­
sposte, spesso contraddittorie. Ma questo non ha rappresen­
tato per gli uomini un ostacolo poiché, nel corso dei secoli,
sono state formulate risposte suggerite dalla scienza, dalla fi­
losofia, dalla religione, dalla politica, etc.

9
20B4 - DIO, L'INTELLIGENZA ARTIFICIALE E IL FUTURO DELL'UMANITÀ

Due dei più famosi scenari futuristici sono descritti nei

romanzi II mondo nuovo, di Aldous Huxley (pubblicato nel
1931), e 1984, di George Orwell (pubblicato nel 1949).
Entrambi i libri sono stati considerati, in tempi diversi,
molto influenti: per esempio, nel 2005, la rivista Time, ha in­
serito 1984 nell’elenco dei cento migliori romanzi in lingua
inglese pubblicati fra il 1923 e il 2005. Entrambi i racconti
sono distopici, infatti, secondo la definizione deli’ Oxford En-
glish Dictionary, essi “descrivono un luogo o una condizione
immaginaria che è la più brutta possibile” in quanto “si pre­
figurano situazioni, sviluppi, assetti politico-sociali e tecno­
logici altamente negativi”.' In ogni caso, gli scenari assai
inquietanti che sono descritti nei due romanzi risultano tut-
t’altro che simili e le loro differenze, sulle quali torneremo in
seguito, sono state brevemente spiegate dal sociologo Neil
Postman nel suo libro Divertirsi da morire. Il discorso pub­
blico nell’era dello spettacolo;

Orwell immagina che saremo sopraffatti da un dittatore.

Nella visione di Huxley non sarà il Grande Fratello a to­
glierci l’autonomia, e a privarci della cultura e della sto­
ria. La gente sarà felice di essere oppressa e adorerà la
tecnologia che libera dalla fatica di pensare.
Orwell temeva che i libri sarebbero stati banditi; Huxley,
non che i libri fossero vietati, ma che non ci fosse più nes­
suno desideroso di leggerli. Orwell temeva quelli che ci
avrebbero privato delle informazioni; Huxley, quelli che

Secondo la definizione di "distopia" in http://www.treccani.it/vocabola-

. rio/distopia2/. N.d.E.

10
 I CONFINI DEL DIBATTITO

ce ne avrebberofornite troppe, fino a ridurci alla passività

e all’egoismo. Orwell temeva che la verità sarebbe stata
manipolata; Huxley che la verità sarebbe diventata irri­
levante. Orwell temeva che la nostra sarebbe stata una ci­
viltà di schiavi; Huxley, che sarebbe stata una cultura di
cialtroni...In breve, Orwell temeva che saremmo stati di­
strutti da ciò che odiamo, Huxley, da ciò che amiamo.1

Orwell ha introdotto le idee di una sorveglianza a tappeto

in uno stato totalitario, di “controllo mentale” e di una “neo­
lingua”; oggi queste si legano sempre più allo sviluppo dell’in­
telligenza artificiale, soprattutto con il tentativo di elaborare
una tecnologia informatica in grado di replicare le potenzialità
della mente umana attraverso lo sviluppo di una mente imita­
tiva. Non sorprende, infatti, che vengano investiti miliardi di
dollari nella ricerca di sistemi di IA, poiché c’è un grande in­
teresse su dove tutto questo porterà. Per esempio, da un lato,
il miglioramento della qualità della vita in virtù dell’assistenza
digitale, dell’innovazione medica e del potenziamento umano,
mentre dall’altro ci sono i timori per la perdita di posti di la­
voro e la comparsa di uno scenario orwelliano legato a una ca­
pillare sorveglianza delle società.
Molti dei traguardi raggiunti finora nel campo dell’IA
sono riconducibili alla costruzione di sistemi in grado di fare
una sola cosa che, di norma, richiederebbe comunque l’uso
dell’intelligenza umana. Ma il lato che si presta maggiormente

1. Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in thè Age of

Show Business, Penguin, New York, 2006, pp. XIX-XX (trad. it. Divertirsi
da morire. Il discorso pubblico nell’era dello spettacolo, Marsilio, 2002).

11
2084 - DIO, L'INTELLIGENZA ARTIFICIALE E IL FUTURO DELL'UMANITÀ

alla speculazione (al momento) è quello della ricerca, molto

più ambiziosa, tesa ad approntare sistemi in grado di fare
tutto ciò che è prerogativa dell’intelligenza umana, vale a dire
una Intelligenza Artificiale Generale (IAG) che, sostengono
alcuni, sorpasserà l’intelligenza umana in un tempo relativa­
mente breve, intorno al 2084 o forse prima. Alcuni ritengono
che l’IAG, se mai ci arriveremo, agirà come un dio, mentre
altri intravedono in essa l’immagine di un despota totalitario.
Per introdurre questi argomenti che suscitano un sempre
più grande interesse, con tutte le speranze e i timori che ori­
ginano, faccio riferimento a tre bestseller contemporanei. I
primi due sono stati scritti dallo storico israeliano Yuval
Noah Harari; in Sapiens. Da animali a dei: breve storia del­
l’umanità, viene trattata, come si può comprendere dal titolo,
la domanda sull’origine dell’umanità; in Homo Deus. Breve
storia del futuro, invece, il tema è chiaramente il futuro del­
l’umanità. Il terzo libro, Origin di Dan Brown, è un romanzo
come quelli di Huxley e Orwell e si concentra sull’uso del 1’1 A
per rispondere alle nostre due domande. Ci si aspetta che
sarà letto da milioni di persone (soprattutto giovani) che sa­
ranno influenzate dalle idee proposte sotto forma di thriller.
Poiché il libro riflette chiaramente la prospettiva del suo au­
tore riguardo questi temi, rappresenta un interessante punto
di partenza per la nostra ricerca.
Inoltre, sono consapevole che per alcuni la fantascienza
abbia rappresentato lo stimolo giusto per intraprendere la
propria carriera, volta allo studio della scienza vera e propria.
In ogni caso, non va trascurato un fatto importante che ci ri­
chiama alla cautela: Dan Brown afferma di essersi avvalso
della scienza per giungere alle proprie conclusioni e quindi,

12
 I CONFINI DEL DIBATTITO

sebbene il libro sia un’opera di fantasia, dobbiamo soppesare

attentamente le argomentazioni e le conclusioni cui giunge
l’autore per essere in grado di fornire un’analisi veritiera.
Questo è molto importante se consideriamo che, per am­
missione stessa del Brown, la motivazione di base che ha ispi­
rato il suo romanzo era quella di affrontare una domanda
fatidica: "Dio sopravvivrà alla scienza?”. È la stessa domanda
che, in varie forme, mi ha personalmente indotto a scrivere
diversi libri. Il mio lavoro di ricerca mi ha portato alla con­
clusione che senza dubbio Dio sopravvivrà alla scienza, ma,
d’altro canto, mi ha fatto sorgere un dubbio, vale a dire se
l’ateismo riuscirà a sopravvivere alla scienza.
Uno dei personaggi principali del libro Origin di Dan
Brown, Edmond Kirsch, è un informatico miliardario, esperto
in intelligenza artificiale, che afferma di aver trovato la risposta
alla domanda sulle origini della vita e sul destino dell’uomo.
Kirsch vuole usare questi risultati per raggiungere l’obiettivo di
un’intera vita, cioè “utilizzare la verità scientifica per distrug­
gere il mito delle religioni”2 in particolare le tre fedi abramiti-
che: ebraica, cristiana e islamica, concentrandosi, quasi inevi­
tabilmente, sul cristianesimo. Le sue risoluzioni, una volta pre­
sentate al mondo, si riveleranno fondate sulla sua competenza
nel campo dell’intelligenza artificiale, mentre la sua visione del
futuro implica la mutazione tecnologica degli esseri umani.
È utile notare che l’idea che l’umanità sarà cambiata dalla
tecnologia non è auspicata unicamente da storici o da scrit­
tori di romanzi, ma da alcuni dei più rinomati scienziati. Per

2. Dan Brown, Origin, Doubleday, New York, 2017, p. 53 (trad. it. Origin,
Mondadori, Milano, 2018).

13
2084 - DIO. L'INTELLIGENZA ARTIFICIALE E IL FUTURO DELL'UMANITÀ

esempio, l’astronomo britannico Lord Rees afferma: “Pos­

siamo essere certi che le intelligenze dominatrici dei prossimi
secoli non avranno alcuna comprensione emotiva dell’essere
umano, nonostante possano avere una comprensione algo­
ritmica del nostro comportamento”.3
Sulla stessa linea, Rees ha anche affermato: “La capacità
di pensare astrattamente, da parte dei cervelli biologici, è ciò
che ha permesso l’emergere della cultura e della scienza. Ma
questa attività, che finirà per coprire decine di millenni, sarà
un precursore delle più potenti intelligenze dell’era post­
umana inorganica. In un futuro lontano, le menti che riusci­
ranno a comprendere pienamente l’universo non saranno
quelle umane, ma quelle delle macchine”.4
Questo argomento sarà sempre centrale poiché interessa
non soltanto chi è direttamente coinvolto nella ricerca nel
campo dell’IA, ma anche i matematici e gli scienziati di altre
discipline i cui studi risentono sempre più dell’influenza di
queste tematiche. A conferma di tutto ciò, poiché le idee e
gli effetti della ricerca sull’IA finiranno per condizionare ine­
vitabilmente la vita di ciascuno di noi, molte persone, pur
non essendo scienziati, si stanno cimentando nello svilup­
pare riflessioni e vari approfondimenti sul tema. Le implica­
zioni sono tali che richiedono il coinvolgimento di filosofi,

3. Martin Rees, Oh thè Future: Prospectsfar Humanity, Princeton Univer­

sity Press, Princeton, NJ, 2018, p. 7.
4. Martin Rees, “Astronomer Royal Martin Rees: How Soon Will Robots
Take Over thè World?", in The Telegraph, 23 Maggio 2015, www.tele-
graph.co.uk /culture/hay-festival/U605785/Astronomer-Royal-Martin-
Rees-predicts-the-world-will-be-run-by-computers-soon.html.

14
 1 CONFINI DEL DIBATTITO

eticisti, teologi, esegeti, romanzieri e artisti, nell’ambito di un

dibattito veramente ampio. Dopotutto, non bisogna essere
fisici nucleari o climatologi per discutere dell’impatto del-
l’utilizzo dell’energia nucleare o dei cambiamenti climatici.

CHE COSÌ L’INTELLIGENZA ARTIFICIALE?

Prendiamo in considerazione i robot. La parola robot deriva da

robota, una parola ceca (e russa) che significa lavoro. Un robot
è una macchina progettata e programmata da un’intelligenza
umana per assolvere, in linea di massima, un singolo compito
che, normalmente, dovrebbe svolgere un essere umano intelli­
gente. In questo senso, il comportamento del robot simula l’in­
telligenza umana, circostanza che ha fatto sorgere un impor­
tante dibattito sull’opportunità di considerare o no il robot “in­
telligente” anche se quell’intelligenza non è ciò che noi inten­
diamo quando pensiamo alle capacità cognitive dell’essere
umano (ma questa è già, di per sé, un’altra questione).
Il termine “IA” fu coniato, nel 1956, durante un campus
estivo tenutosi nel dipartimento di matematica della Dar-
tmouth University organizzato da John McCarthy, il quale
affermò che: "L'IA è il lavoro scientifico e ingegneristico volto
a creare macchine intelligenti”.5 Il termine ora viene usato per
descrivere sia le macchine intelligenti sia le conoscenze
scientifiche e tecnologiche che mirano alla costruzione di
quest’ultime.

5. John McCarthy, What IsArtificial Intelligence? www-formal.stanford.edu/

jmc/whatisai.pdf.

15
2084 - DIO. L’INTELLIGENZA ARTIFICIALE E IL FUTURO DELL'UMANITÀ

La ricerca in quest’area si sviluppa lungo due direttrici prin­

cipali: in generale, la prima coincide con il tentativo di compren­
dere i processi del pensiero e del ragionamento umani mediante
modelli generati al computer. La seconda si concretizza nello
studio del comportamento umano e nel tentativo di costruire
delle macchine in grado di imitarlo. La differenza è sostanziale:
una cosa è creare una macchina capace di “simulare” una mano
umana che alza un oggetto, altra cosa è creare una macchina
che sia in grado di replicare i pensieri di un essere umano men­
tre alza un oggetto. È molto più facile creare la prima rispetto
alla seconda e, se l’utilità è l’obiettivo cui si tende, la simulazione
è ciò cui dobbiamo mirare. Facciamo un esempio: l’industria ae­
ronautica è tesa alla realizzazione di macchinari che volano, ma
non implica la costruzione di un cervello elettronico simile a
quello di un uccello affinché l’aereo voli esattamente come fa­
rebbero gli uccelli, vale a dire battendo le ali.6
L’idea di costruire macchine che possano simulare aspetti
del comportamento umano (e animale) ha alle spalle una
lunga storia. Duemila anni fa, il matematico greco Erone di
Alessandria costruì una vasca adornata da alcuni uccellini
meccanici che cantavano e da un gufo che, quando girava la
testa, faceva cessare il canto degli uccellini. Nel corso dei se­
coli, in tanti sono rimasti affascinati dall’idea di creare rudi­
mentali robot (detti automata) in grado di replicare alcuni
aspetti della vita. Importanti collezioni di esemplari molto
sofisticati di questi automata possono essere ammirate al
Museo della Scienza di Londra, al Museo di Storia dell’Arte

6. Si veda, Stuart Russell e Peter Norvig (a cura di), Artificial Intelligence:

A Modern Approach, Harlow: Pearson Education, 2016, pp. 1-5.

16
 I CONFINI DEL DIBATTITO

di Vienna e al Museo Speelklok di Utrecht. Sebbene nel di­

ciannovesimo secolo l'interesse per la costruzione di queste
macchine andò a scemare, rimase vivo nelle opere di fantasia
come il romanzo Frankenstein di Mary Wollstonecraft Shel­
ley del 1818, che rappresenta una pietra miliare della fanta­
scienza sin dagli albori di questo genere narrativo.
Una delle più importanti attività umane quotidiane è il cal­
colo numerico e sono stati fatti grandi sforzi per automatizzare
questo processo: nel diciassettesimo secolo, il matematico
francese Blaise Pascal realizzò un calcolatore meccanico7 per
aiutare suo padre, un ufficiale delle tasse, con i noiosi conteggi.
Nel diciannovesimo secolo, Charles Babbage pose le basi della
computazione programmabile inventando prima la macchina
differenziale, che svolgeva le addizioni e, in seguito, la mac­
china analitica, che fu il primo calcolatore programmabile. Per
questo motivo Babbage è riconosciuto come il padre dei mo­
derni computer.
Durante la seconda guerra mondiale, il geniale scienziato
inglese Alan Turing utilizzò una sofisticata tecnologia infor­
matica per realizzare uno strumento, noto come la “Bomba”
che permise a lui e alla sua squadra di Bletchley Park di deci­
frare il codice tedesco "Enigma” utilizzato per le comunica­
zioni militari segrete. Le invenzioni di Turing e il suo lavoro
teorico hanno condotto alle concezioni del “learning machine”
vale a dire “all’apprendimento automatico” Secondo Turing,
una macchina in grado di conversare con gli umani, senza che
questi ultimi si rendano conto che si tratti di una macchina,

7. La prima macchina calcolatrice fu costruita intorno al 1623 dal tedesco

Wilhelm Schickard, professore di ebraico e di astronomia.

17
20B4 - DIO, L'INTELLIGENZA ARTIFICIALE E IL FUTURO DELL'UMANITÀ

potrebbe superare il cosiddetto “imitation game” (meglio noto

come “Test di Turing”) ed essere considerata intelligente. Ad
ogni modo, come vedremo in seguito, questo approccio ha in­
contrato alcune obiezioni da parte di diversi filosofi.
Nello stesso periodo (1951) Marvin Minsky (cofondatore
del laboratorio di ricerca sulla IA del MIT) e Dean Edmonds,
realizzarono il primo computer a rete neurale. Altri storici
traguardi che attirarono l’attenzione pubblica furono il com­
puter Deep Blue della IBM che nel 1997 batté il campione
del mondo di scacchi Garry Kasparov, e il programma di
Google AlphaGo che, nel 2016, sconfisse un giocatore pro­
fessionista di “Go”.‘ L’importanza dell’lA è stata riconosciuta
con l’assegnazione, nel 2018, del Premio Turing (considerato
il "Nobel dell’informatica”) a un trio di ricercatori che hanno
gettato le basi dell’attuale progresso dell’IA, in particolare nel
campo del "deep learning” (“apprendimento profondo”
branca dell’apprendimento automatico).
I primi robot e i primi sistemi di intelligenza artificiale erano
sprovvisti di ciò che chiamiamo “apprendimento automatico”
alla cui base c’è l’idea dell’algoritmo che può essere di vario tipo
(simbolico, matematico, etc....).8 La parola “algoritmo” deriva
dal nome del famoso matematico, astronomo e geografo per­
siano Muhammad ibn Musa al- Khwàrizmi (ca. 780-850).9

• Gioco da tavolo strategico di origine orientale. N.d.E.

8. È utile sottolineare che i primi sistemi di IA non ricorrevano agli algo­
ritmi.
9. Si veda Jeffrey Aronson, "When 1 Use a Word... Algorithms” in BMJ Opi­
nion, 11 Agosto 2017, https://blogs.bmj.com/bmj/2017/08/ll/jeffrey-
aronson-when-i-use-a-word-algorithms .

18
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
ever having studied it. I think I’ll get a psychologist to take a look at
him.”

“Do you think he’ll like that?”

“Oh, he’ll never know unless he’s a mind reader. Somebody to sort
of observe him at work. I’ve already had him checked out physically.”

“You’re very thorough.”

“Have to be. He’s got a duodenal ulcer and there’s a danger of high
blood pressure when he’s older; otherwise he’s in fine shape.”

“What do you want me to do first?”

He became serious. “A pamphlet. You might make a highbrow

magazine article out of it for the Readers’ Digest or something first.
We’ll want a clear, simple statement of the Cavite philosophy.”

“Why don’t you get him to write it?”

“I’ve tried. He says he can’t write anything. In fact he even hates to

have his sermons taken down by a recorder. God knows why. But, in
a way, it’s all to the good because it means we can get all the talent
we like to do the writing for us and that way, sooner or later, we can
appeal to just about everybody.”

“Whom am I supposed to appeal to in this first pamphlet?”

“The ordinary person, but make it as foolproof as you can; leave

plenty of doors open so you can get out fast in case we switch the
party line along the way.”

I laughed. “You’re extraordinarily cynical.”

“Just practical. I had to learn everything the hard way. I was kicked
around by some mighty expert kickers in my day.”
I checked his flow of reminiscence. “Tell me about Cave and Iris.”
This was the secondary mystery which had occupied my mind for
several days. But Paul did not know or, if he did, would not say. “I
think they’re just good friends, like we say in these parts. Except that
I doubt if anything is going on ... they don’t seem the type and she’s
so completely gone on what he has to say....”

A long-legged girl secretary in discreet black entered the room

unbidden and whispered something to the publicist Paul started as
though she had given him an electric shock from the thick carpeting.
He spoke quickly: “Get Furlow. Tell him to stand bail. Also get a writ.
I’ll be right down there.”

She ran from the room. He pushed the bar away from him and it
rolled aimlessly across the floor, its bottles and glasses chattering.
Paul looked at me distractedly. “He’s in jail. Cave’s in jail.”
 Five

1
Last night the noise of my heart’s beating kept me awake until nearly
dawn. Then, as the gray warm light of the morning patterned the
floor, I fell asleep and dreamed uneasily of disaster, my dreams
disturbed by the noise of jackals, by that jackal-headed god who
hovers over me as these last days unfold confusedly before my
eyes: it will end in heat and terror, alone beside a muddy river, all
time as one and that soon gone. I awakened, breathless and cold,
with a terror of the dying still ahead.

After coffee and pills, those assorted pellets which seem to restore
me for moments at a time to a false serenity, I put aside the
nightmare world of the previous restless hours and idly examined the
pages which I had written with an eye to rereading them straight
through, to relive again for a time the old drama which is already, as I
write, separating itself from my memory and becoming real only in
the prose: I think now of these events as I have told them and not as
they occur to me in memory. For the memory now is of pages and
not of scenes or of actual human beings still existing in that baleful,
tenebrous region of the imagination where fancy and fact together
confuse even the most confident of narrators. I have, thus far at
least, exorcised demons, and to have lost certain memories to my
narrative relieves my system, like a cancer cut whole from a failing
organism.
The boy brought me my morning coffee and the local newspaper
whose Arabic text pleases my eye though the sense, when I do
translate it, is less than strange. I asked the boy if Mr. Butler was
awake and he said he had gone out already: these last few days I
have kept to my room even for the evening meal, delaying the
inevitable revelation as long as possible.

After the boy left and while I drank coffee and looked out upon the
river and the western hills, I was conscious of a sense of well-being
which I have not often experienced in recent years. Perhaps the
work of evoking the past has, in a sense, enhanced the present for
me. I thought of the work done as life preserved, as part of me which
will remain.

Then, idly, I riffled the pages of John Cave’s Testament for the first
time since I had discovered my name had been expunged.

The opening was the familiar one which I had composed so many
years before in Cave’s name. The time of divination: a
straightforward account of the apparent wonders which had
preceded the mission. No credence was given the supernatural but a
good case was made (borrowed a little from the mental therapists)
for the race’s need of phenomena as a symptom of unease and
boredom and anticipation. I flicked through the pages. An entire new
part had been added which I did not recognize: still written as though
by Cave but, obviously, it could not have been composed until at
least a decade after his death.

I read the new section carefully. Whoever had written it had been
strongly under the influence of the pragmatic philosophers, though
the style was somewhat inspirational: a combination of a guide to
popularity crossed with the Koran. A whole system of ideal behavior
was sketched broadly for the devout, so broadly as to be fairly
useless though the commentary and the interpretive analysis of such
lines as: “Property really belongs to the world though individuals may
have temporary liens on certain sections,” must be already
prodigious.
I was well into the metaphysics of the Cavites when there was a
knock on my door. It was Butler, looking red and uncomfortable from
the heat, a spotted red bandana tied, for some inscrutable reason,
about his head in place of a hat.

“Hope you don’t mind my barging in like this but I finished a visit with
the mayor earlier than I thought.” He crumpled, on invitation, into a
chair opposite me. He sighed gloomily. “This is going to be tough,
tougher than I ever imagined back home.”

“I told you it would be. The Moslems are very obstinate.”

“I’ll say! and the old devil of a mayor practically told me point-blank
that if he caught me proselyting he’d send me back to Cairo. Imagine
the nerve!”

“Well, it is their country,” I said, reasonably, experiencing my first real

hope: might the Cavites not get themselves expelled from Islam? I
knew the mayor of Luxor, a genial merchant who still enjoyed the
obsolete title of Pasha. The possibilities of a daring plot occurred to
me. All I needed was another year or two by which time nature would
have done its work in any case and the conquest of humanity by the
Cavites could then continue its progress without my bitter presence.

I looked at Butler speculatively. He was such a fool. I could, I was

sure, undo him, for a time at least; unless of course he was, as I first
expected, an agent come to finish me in fact as absolutely as I have
been finished in effect by those revisionists who have taken my
place among the Cavites, arranging history.... I’d experienced, briefly,
while studying Butler’s copy of the Testament, the unnerving sense
of having never lived, of having dreamed the past entire.

“Maybe it is their country but we got the truth, and like Paul Himmell
said: 'A truth known to only half the world is but half a truth.’”

“Did he say that?”

“Of course he did. Don’t you....” he paused. His eye taking in at last
the book in my hand. His expression softened somewhat, like a
parent in anger noticing suddenly an endearing resemblance to
himself in the offending child. “But I forget how isolated you’ve been
up here. If I’ve interrupted your studies, I’ll go away.”

“Oh no. I was finished when you came. I’ve been studying for several
hours which is too long for an old man.”

“If a contemplation of Cavesword can ever be too long,” said Butler

reverently. “Yes, Himmell wrote that even before Cavesword, in the
month of March, I believe, though we’ll have to ask my colleague
when he comes. He knows all the dates, all the facts. Remarkable
guy. He has the brains of the team.” And Butler laughed to show that
he was not entirely serious.

“I think they might respond to pressure,” I said, treacherously. “One

thing the Arabs respect is force.”

“You may be right. But our instructions are to go slow. Still, I didn’t
think it would be as slow as this. Why we haven’t been able to get a
building yet. They’ve all been told by the Pasha fellow not to rent to
us.”

“Perhaps I could talk to him.”

“Do you know him well?”

“We used to play cards quite regularly. I haven’t seen much of him in
the past few years but, if you’d like, I’ll go and pay him a call.”

“He’s known all along you’re a Cavite, hasn’t he?”

“We have kept off the subject of religion entirely. As you probably
discovered, since the division of the world, there’s been little
communication between East and West. I don’t think he knows much
about the Cavites except that they’re undesirable.”
“Poor creature,” said Butler, compassionately.

“Outer darkness,” I agreed.

“But mark my words before ten years have passed they will have the
truth.”

“I have no doubt of that, Communicator, none at all. If the others who

come out have even a tenth of your devotion the work will go fast.”
The easy words of praise came back to me mechanically from those
decades when a large part of my work was organizational, spurring
the mediocre on to great deeds ... and the truth of the matter has
been, traditionally, that the unimaginative are the stuff from which
heroes and martyrs are invariably made.

“Thanks for those kind words,” said Butler, flushed now with pleasure
as well as heat. “Which reminds me, I was going to ask you if you’d
like to help us with our work once we get going?”

“I’d like nothing better but I’m afraid my years of useful service are
over. Any advice, however, or perhaps influence that I may have in
Luxor....” There was a warm moment of mutual esteem and
amiability, broken only by a reference to the Squad of Belief.

“Of course we’ll have one here in time; though we can say,
thankfully, that the need for them in the Atlantic states is nearly over.
Naturally, there are always a few malcontents but we have worked
out a statistical ratio of nonconformists in the population which is
surprisingly accurate. Knowing their incidence, we are able to check
them early. In general, however, the truth is happily ascendant
everywhere in the really civilized world.”

“What are their methods now?”

“The Squad of Belief’s? Psychological indoctrination. We now have

methods of converting even the most obstinate lutherist. Of course
where usual methods fail (and once in every fifteen hundred they
do), the Squad is authorized to remove a section of brain which
effectively does the trick of making the lutherist conform, though his
usefulness in a number of other spheres is somewhat impaired: I’m
told he has to learn all over again how to talk and to move around.”

“Lutherist? I don’t recognize the word.”

“You certainly have been cut off from the world.” Butler looked at me
curiously, almost suspiciously. “I thought even in your day that was a
common expression. It means anybody who refuses willfully to know
the truth.”

“What does it come from?”

“Come from?” Semantics were either no longer taught or else Butler

had never been interested in them. “Why it just means, well, a
lutherist.”

“I wonder, though, what the derivation of it was.” I was excited: this

was the only sign that I had ever existed, a word of obscure origin
connoting nonconformist.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to ask my side-kick when he comes. I don’t

suppose it came from one of those Christian sects ... you know the
German one which broke with Rome.”

“That must be it,” I said. “I don’t suppose in recent years there have
been as many lutherists as there once were.”

“Very, very few. As I say, we’ve got it down to a calculable minority

and our psychologists are trying to work out some method whereby
we can spot potential lutherists in childhood and indoctrinate them
before it’s too late ... but of course the problem is a negligible one in
the Atlantic states. We’ve had no serious trouble for forty years.”

“Forty years ... that was the time of all the trouble,” I said.

“Not so much trouble,” said Butler, undoing the bandana and

mopping his face with it. “The last flare-up, I gather, of the old
Christians ... history makes very little of it though I suppose at the
time it must have seemed important. Now that we have more
perspective we can view things in their proper light. I was only a kid
in those days and, frankly, I don’t think I paid any attention to the
papers. Of course you remember it.” He looked at me suddenly, his
great vacuous eyes focused. My heart missed one of its precarious
beats: was this the beginning? had the inquisition begun?

“Not well,” I said. “I was seldom in the United States. I’d been digging
in Central America, in and around the Peten. I missed most of the
trouble.”

“You seem to have missed a good deal.” His voice was equable,
without a trace of secondary meaning.

“I’ve had a quiet life. I’m grateful though for your coming here;
otherwise. I should have died without any contact with America,
without ever knowing what was happening outside the Arab League.”

“Well, we’ll shake things up around here.”

“Shake well before using,” I quoted absently.

“What did you say?”

“I said I hoped all would be well.”

“I’m sure it will. By the way, I brought you the new edition of Cave’s
prison dialogues.” He pulled a small booklet from his back pocket
and handed it to me.

“Thank you.” I took the booklet: dialogues between Cave and Iris
Mortimer. I had never before heard of this particular work. “Is this a
recent discovery?” I asked.

“Recent? Why no. It’s the newest edition but of course the text goes
right back to the early days when Cave was in prison.”

“Oh, yes, in California.”

“Sure; it was the beginning of the persecutions. Well, I’ve got to be
on my way.” He got heavily to his feet and arranged the bandana
about his head. “Somebody stole my hat. Persecuting me, I’ll bet my
bottom dollar ... little ways. Well, I’m prepared for them. They can’t
stop us. Sooner or later the whole world will be Cavite.”

“Amen,” I said.

“What?” He looked at me with shock.

“I’m an old man,” I said hastily. “You must recall I was brought up in
the old Christianity. Such expressions still linger on, you know.”

“It’s a good thing there’s no Squad of Belief in Luxor,” said Butler

cheerily. “They’d have you up for indoctrination in a second.”

“I doubt if it’d be worth their trouble. Soon I shall be withdrawing from

the world altogether.”

“I suppose so. You haven’t thought of taking Cavesway have you?”

“Of course, many times, but since my health has been good I’ve
been in no great hurry to leave my contemplation of those hills.” I
pointed to the western window. “Now I should hesitate to die until the
very last moment, out of curiosity. I’m eager to learn, to help as much
as possible in your work here.”

“Well, that of course is good news but should you ever want to take
his way let me know. We have some marvellous methods now,
extremely pleasant to take and, as he said, 'It’s not death which is
hard but dying.’ We’ve finally made dying simply swell.”

“Will wonders never cease?”

“In that department, never! It is the firm basis of our truth. Now I must
be off.”

“Is your colleague due here soon?”

“Haven’t heard recently. I don’t suppose the plans have been
changed, though. You’ll like him.”

“I’m sure I shall.”

2
And so John Cave’s period in jail was now known as the time of
persecution, with a pious prison dialogue attributed to Iris. Before I
returned to my work of recollection, I glanced at the dialogue whose
style was enough like Iris’s to have been her work. But of course her
style was not one which could ever have been called inimitable since
it was based on the most insistent of twentieth-century advertising
techniques. I assumed the book was the work of others, of those
anonymous counterfeiters who had created, according to a list of
publications on the back of the booklet, a wealth of Cavite doctrine.

The conversation with Cave in prison was lofty in tone and seemed
to deal with moral problems. It was apparent that since the task of
governing is largely one of keeping order, it had become, with the
passage of time, necessary for the Cavite rulers to compose in
Cave’s name different works of ethical instruction to be used for the
guidance and control of the population. I assume that since they now
control all records, all original sources, it is an easy matter for them
to “discover” some relevant text which gives clear answer to any
moral or political problem which has not been anticipated in previous
commentaries. The work of falsifying records, expunging names is, I
should think, somewhat more tricky but they seem to have
accomplished it in Cave’s Testament, brazenly assuming that those
who recall the earlier versions will die off in time, leaving a
generation which knows only what they wish it to know, excepting of
course the “calculable minority” of nonconformists, of base
Lutherists.

Cave’s term in prison was far less dramatic than official legend,
though more serious. He was jailed for hit-and-run driving on the
highway from Santa Monica into Los Angeles.

I went to see him that evening with Paul. When we arrived at the jail,
we were not allowed near him though Paul’s lawyers had been
permitted to go inside a few minutes before our arrival.

Iris was sitting in the outer office, pale and shaken. A bored
policeman in uniform sat fatly at a desk at the other end of the office,
ignoring us.

“They’re the best lawyers in L.A.,” said Paul quickly. “They’ll get him
out in no time.”

Iris looked at him bleakly.

“What happened?” I asked, sitting down beside her on the bench.

“How did it happen?”

“I wasn’t with him.” She shook her head several times as though to
dispel a profound daydream. “He called me and I called you. They
are the best, Paul?”

“I can vouch that....”

“Did he kill anybody?”

“We ... we don’t know yet. He hit an old man and went on driving. I
don’t know why; I mean why he didn’t stop. He just went on and the
police car caught him. The man’s in the hospital now. They say it’s
bad; he’s unconscious, an old man ...”

“Any reporters here?” asked Paul. “Anybody else know besides us?”

“Nobody. You’re the only person I called.”

“This could wreck everything.” Paul was frightened.

But Cave was rescued, at considerable expense to the company.

The old man chose not to die immediately while the police and the
courts of Los Angeles, at that time well known for their accessibility
to free-spending reason, proved more than obliging. After a day and
a night in prison. Cave was released on bail and when the case
came to court, it was handled discreetly by the magistrate.

The newspapers, however, had discovered John Cave at last and

there were photographs of “Present-Day Messiah in Court.” As ill
luck would have it, the undertakers of Laguna had come to the aid of
their prophet with banners which proclaimed his message. This
picketing of the court was photographed and exhibited in the
tabloids. Paul was in a frenzy. Publicist though he was, in his first
rage he expressed to me the novel sentiment that not all publicity
was good.

“But we’ll get back at those bastards,” he said grimly, not identifying
which ones he meant but waving toward the city hidden by the
Venetian blinds of his office window.

I asked for instructions. Cave had, the day before, gone back to
Washington to lie low until the time was right for a triumphant
reappearance. Iris had gone with him; on a separate plane, however,
to avoid scandal. Clarissa had sent various heartening if confused
messages from New York while Paul and I were left alone to gather
up the pieces and begin again. Our close association during those
difficult days impressed me with his talents and though,
fundamentally, I still found him appalling, I couldn’t help but admire
his superb operativeness.

“I’m going ahead with the original plan ... just like none of this
happened. The stockholders are willing and we’ve got enough
money, though not as much as I’d like, for the publicity build-up. I
expect Cave’ll pick up some more cash in Seattle. He always does,
wherever he goes.”

“Millionaires just flock to him?”

“Strange to tell, yes. But then nearly everybody does.”

“It’s funny since the truth he offers is all there is to it. Once
experienced, there’s no longer much need for Cave or for an
organization.” This of course was the paradox which time and the
unscrupulous were bloodily to resolve.

Paul’s answer was reasonable. “That’s true but there’s the problem
of sharing it. If millions felt the same way about death the whole
world would be happier and, if it’s happier, why, it’ll be a better place
to live in.”

“Do you really believe this?”

“Still think of me as a hundred percent phony?” Paul chuckled good-

naturedly. “Well, it so happens, I do believe that. It also so happens
that if this thing clicks we’ll have a world organization and if we have
that there’ll be a big place for number one in it. It’s all mixed up,
Gene. I’d like to hear your motives, straight from the shoulder.”

I was not prepared to answer him, or myself. In fact, to this day, my

own motives are a puzzle to which there is no single key, no easy
definition. One is not, after all, like those classic or neo-classic
figures who wore with such splendid mono-maniacal consistency the
scarlet of lust or the purple of dominion, or the bright yellow of
madness, existing not at all beneath their identifying robes. Power
appealed to me in my youth but only as a minor pleasure and not as
an end in itself or even as a means to any private or public end. I
enjoyed the idea of guiding and dominating others, preferably in the
mass; yet, at the same time, I did not like the boredom of power
achieved, or the silly publicness of a great life. But there was
something which, often against my will and judgment, precipitated
me into deeds and attitudes where the logic of the moment
controlled me to such an extent that I could not lessen, if I chose, the
momentum of my own wild passage, or chart its course.

I would not have confided this to Paul even had I in those days
thought any of it out, which I had not. Though I was conscious of
some fundamental ambivalence in myself, I always felt that should I
pause for a few moments and question myself, I could easily find
answers to these problems. But I did not pause. I never asked
myself a single question concerning motive. I acted like a man
sleeping who was only barely made conscious by certain odd
incongruities that he dreams. The secret which later I was to
discover was still unrevealed to me as I faced the efficient vulgarity
of Paul Himmell across the portable bar which reflected so brightly in
its crystal his competence.

“My motives are perfectly simple,” I said, half-believing what I said. In

those days the more sweeping the statement the more apt I was to
give it my fickle allegiance: motives are simple, splendid! simple they
are. “I want something to do. I’m fascinated by Cave and I believe
what he says ... not that it is so supremely earthshaking. It’s been
advanced as a theory off and on for two thousand years. Kant wrote
that he anticipated with delight the luxurious sleep of the grave and
the Gnostics came close to saying the same thing when they
promised a glad liberation from life. The Eastern religions, about
which I know very little, maintain ...”

“That’s it!” Paul interrupted me eagerly. “That’s what we want. You

just keep on like that. We’ll call it 'An Introduction to John Cave.’
Make a small book out of it. Get it published in New York; then the
company will buy up copies and we’ll pass it out free.”

“I’m not so sure that I know enough formal philosophy to ...”

“To hell with that stuff. You just root around and show how the old
writers were really Cavites at heart and then you come to him and
put down what he says. Why we’ll be half-there even before he’s on
TV!” Paul lapsed for a moment into a reverie of promotion. I had
another drink and felt quite good myself although I had serious
doubts about my competence to compose philosophy in the popular
key. But Paul’s faith was infectious and I felt that, all in all, with a bit
of judicious hedging and recourse to various explicit summaries and
definitions, I might put together a respectable ancestry for Cave
whose message, essentially, ignored all philosophy, empiric and
orphic, moving with hypnotic effectiveness to the main proposition:
death and man’s acceptance of it. The problems of life were always
quite secondary to Cave, if not to the rest of us.

“When will you want this piece done?”

“The sooner the better. Here,” he scribbled an address on a pad of

paper. “This is Cave’s address. He’s on a farm outside Spokane. It
belongs to one of his undertaker friends.”

“Iris is with him?”

“Yes. Now you ...”

“I wonder if that’s wise, Iris seeing so much of him. You know he’s
going to have a good many enemies before very long and they’ll dig
around for any scandal they can find.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly innocent, I’m sure. Even if it isn’t, I can’t see how it
can do much harm.”

“For a public relations man you don’t seem to grasp the possibilities
for bad publicity in this situation.”

“All pub ...”

“Is good. But Cave, it appears is a genuine ascetic.” And the word
“genuine” as I spoke it was like a knife-blade in my heart. “And, since
he is, you have a tremendous advantage in building him up. There’s
no use in allowing him, quite innocently, to appear to philander.”

Paul looked at me curiously. “You wouldn’t by chance be interested

in Iris yourself?”

And of course that was it. I had become attached to Iris in precisely
the same sort of way a complete man might have been but of course
for me there was no hope, nothing. The enormity of that nothing
shook me, despite the alcohol we had drunk. I was sufficiently
collected, though, not to make the mistake of vehemence. “I like her
very much but I’m more attached to the idea of Cave than I am to
her. I don’t want to see the business get out of hand. That’s all. I’m
surprised you, of all people involved, aren’t more concerned.”

“You may have a point. I suppose I’ve got to adjust my views to this
thing ... it’s different from my usual work building up crooners and
movie stars. In that line the romance angle is swell, just as long as
there’re no bigamies or abortions involved. I see your point, though.
With Cave we have to think in sort of Legion of Decency terms. No
rough stuff. No nightclub pictures or posing with blondes. You’re
absolutely right. Put that in your piece: doesn’t drink, doesn’t go out
with dames....”

I laughed at this seriousness. “Maybe we won’t have to go that far.

The negative virtues usually shine through all on their own. The
minute you draw attention to them you create suspicion: people are
generally pleased to suspect the opposite of every avowal.”

“You talk just like my analyst.” And I felt that I had won, briefly, Paul’s
admiration. “Anyway, you go to Spokane; talk to Iris; tell her to lay off
... in a tactful way of course. I wouldn’t mention it to him: you never
can tell how he’ll react. She’ll be reasonable even though I suspect
she’s stuck on the man. Try and get your piece done by the first of
December. I’d like to have it in print for the first of the New Year,
Cave’s year.”

“I’ll try.”

“By the way, we’re getting an office ... same building as this. The
directors okayed it and we’ll take over as soon as there’s some
furniture in it.”

“Cavites, Inc.?”

“We could hardly call it the Church of the Golden Rule,” said Paul
with one of the few shows of irritability I was ever to observe in his
equable disposition. “Now, on behalf of the directors, I’m authorized
to advance you whatever money you might feel you need for this
project; that is, within ...”

“I won’t need anything except, perhaps, a directorship in the

company.” My own boldness startled me. Paul laughed.

“That’s a good boy. Eye on the main chance. Well, we’ll see what we
can do about that. There aren’t any more shares available right now
but that doesn’t mean.... I’ll let you know when you get back from
Spokane.”

Our meeting was ended by the appearance of his secretary who

called him away to other business. As we parted in the outer office,
he said, quite seriously, “I don’t think Iris likes him the way you think
but if she does be careful. We can’t upset Cave now. This is a tricky
time for everyone. Don’t show that you suspect anything when you’re
with him. Later, when we’re under way, and there’s less pressure, I’ll
handle it. Agreed?”

I agreed, secretly pleased at being thought in love ... “in love,” to this
moment the phrase has a strangely foreign sound to me, like a
classical allusion not entirely understood in some decorous,
scholarly text. “In love,” I whispered to myself in the elevator as I left
Paul that evening: in love with Iris.

3
We met at the Spokane railroad station and Iris drove me through
the wide, clear, characterless streets to a country road which wound
east into the hills, in the direction of a town with the lovely name of
Coeur d’Alene.

She was relaxed. Her ordinarily pale face was faintly burned from the
sun while her hair, which I recalled as darkly waving, was now
streaked with light and worn loosely bound at the nape of her neck.
She wore no cosmetics and her dress was simple cotton beneath the
sweater she wore against the autumn’s chill. She looked young,
younger than either of us actually was.

At first we talked of Spokane. She identified mountains and indicated

hidden villages with an emphasis on places which sharply recalled
Cave. Not until we had turned off the main highway into a country
road, dark with fir and spruce, did she ask me about Paul.

“He’s very busy getting the New Year’s debut ready. He’s also got a
set of offices for the company in Los Angeles and he’s engaged me
to write an introduction to Cave ... but I suppose you knew that when
he wired you I was coming.”

“It was my idea.”

“My coming? or the introduction?”

“Both. I talked to him about it just before we came up here.”

“And I thought he picked it out of the air while listening to me

majestically place Cave among the philosophers.”

Iris smiled. “Paul’s not obvious. He enjoys laying traps and, as long
as they’re for one’s own good, he’s very useful.”

“Implying he could be destructive?”

“Immensely. So be on your guard even though I don’t think he’ll harm

any of us.”

“How is Cave?”

“I’m worried, Gene. He hasn’t got over that accident. He talks about
it continually.”

“But the man didn’t die.”

“It would be better if he did ... as it is there’s a chance of a lawsuit

against Cave for damages.”
“But he has no money.”

“That doesn’t prevent them from suing. Worst of all, though, would
be the publicity. The whole thing has depressed John terribly. It was
all I could do to keep him from announcing to the press that he had
almost done the old man a favor.”

“You mean by killing him?”

Iris nodded, quite seriously. “That’s actually what he believes and the
reason why he drove on.”

“I’m glad he said nothing like that to the papers.”

“But it’s true; his point of view is exactly right.”

“Except that the old man might regard the situation in a different light
and, in any case, he was badly hurt and did not receive Cave’s gift of
death.”

“Now you’re making fun of John.” She frowned and drove fast on the
empty road.

“I’m doing no such thing. I’m absolutely serious. There’s a moral

problem involved which is extremely important and if a precedent is
set too early, a bad one like this, there’s no predicting how things will
turn out.”

“You mean the ... the gift as you call it should only be given
voluntarily?”

“Exactly ... if then, and only in extreme cases. Think what might
happen if those who listened to Cave decided to make all their
friends and enemies content by killing them.”

“Well, I wish you’d talk to him.” She smiled sadly. “I’m afraid I don’t
always see things clearly when I’m with him. You know how he is ...
how he convinces.”