The discussion of the Turing test and the Chinese room analogy was, for me at least, one of the most psychologically rewarding discussions in the entire semester, because of how I think it ties in with some of the other, larger themes of the course.  The immediate question at hand is as follows: can there be such a thing as an intelligent machine, and if there can, how can we as outside observers tell?  Turing’s theory posits that a machine can said to be intelligent when an outside observer cannot tell whether they are communicating with a human or a machine.  Searle, on the other hand, puts forth an example: if someone who spoke Chinese was communicating with someone inside a room who did not speak Chinese, but had an elaborate instruction manual which made it possible for them to give proper responses to any Chinese phrase, the outside observer would be convinced they were communicating with a Chinese speaker, when in fact, the person had no idea what it was they were communicating.  I find this example, which I didn’t know about before taking this class, an incredibly effective and eye-opening rebuttal to Turing.

The larger point to be made here, why Searle doesn’t think Turing’s requirements are enough to label something as intelligent, is a point with which I’ve come to wholeheartedly agree: intent matters, and meaning cannot be interpreted from form alone.  A machine would have to understand what it is communicating before I could label it intelligent.  Soon after I came to this conclusion, I realized it had ramifications for Tosches’ embrace of the minstrel show. Sure, all music is imbued with politics, with boundary-transgression, and often the best music is that which is most bound up in those things, such as the countless white musicians who are influenced directly or indirectly by the black American blues tradition. To say that cultural borrowing should be unacceptable in music is anathema to my sensibilities; I don’t want to live in a world where Dave Brubeck and Bill Evans weren’t allowed to play jazz.  As Picasso said, poor artists borrow; great artists steal.  Music is no exception, and without that (often cross-cultural) borrowing of musical tropes, no creativity would be possible.  However, I can’t go as far as Tosches does. I can’t say the minstrel show was altogether a positive development, even if it’s musically relevant, even if it influenced much of American popular music. The reason why is the same as why I’ve come to accept Searle’s take on what it means to have artificial intelligence: intent matters.  Because the minstrel show was intended at its core to portray overt racism, because it was meant to put down blacks, it doesn’t matter how many black artists got their start there, or how good some of the music was. It’s still a disgusting institution that did more harm than good to American society.