To study the “language of smell” is to thread together the studies of
many other fields. As a subject, the language of smell can spread into territories
from proprioception to civil engineering. Regarding contemporary problems, the study
of language and olfaction together can instigate new insight into fields like artificial
intelligence, and even prompt questions about what it means to be human in the
face of a technologically immersive world.
The olfactory bulb is a model neural network, and one that has
scientists stumped still today. Despite having reverse-engineered vision,
hearing, and even tactile sensation, nobody knows how to artificially code
olfaction. After the brain tendrils in your nose are activated, the next stop
at the olfactory bulb turns those signals into a buffet of information to be
processed by the limbic system and rendered into an olfactory experience. That
interchange at the olfactory bulb is still shrouded in mystery, but its
neuronal architecture very closely resembles the layered networks used in
artificial intelligence and machine learning today. (These are also called deep
learning networks.)
As these forms of artificial intelligence become more pervasive, we are
forced to reckon with what it means to be human vs machine. Already, with the
need for non-gendered intelligentities (note Microsoft’s recent chatbot, which twitter
turned into the dregs of society within 24 hours, was a “teenage girl,” not to
say that it wouldn’t have been more successful if it was non-gendered, just
that I was surprised when she was debuted that she was a definitive “she”),
with advances in artificial reality simulation, in neural-interfaced prosthetic
bodyparts and biocomputing
insectobots, we are daily being asked which parts of “being alive” we want
to keep, and which ones we want to offload to our [eventual overlords , jk].
To investigate both what it means to smell something, and how we
communicate that experience, is to dive deep into the human, beyond the thinking
parts and into the limbic, the emotional, animal parts. These parts are so far inside our phylogenetic
history that it’s hard to bring them to light in an age of so much knowingness
and clarity. And to articulate these parts requires something less of a science
and more of an art, which is exactly where the language of smell falls on the
spectrum of functionality. (No wonder stuff like this gets no funding…see
below.)
From a recent article on interdisciplinary
research, an echo :
"One of the biggest advantages of interdisciplinary research is
that it can generate new ways of looking at existing problems," said
Professor Bromham, from the ANU Research School of Biology.
Notes:
phys.org, July 2016
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