In my long life, I have had to get my head around massive technological changes. When I was young, I relied on my knowledge of the times tables, and counting on my fingers, to add up. It took me weeks to master the revolutionary Amstrad word processor. The only phone was in the hall, calls strictly rationed by my father. Over the years, I have braved the exasperation of my grandchildren, and now Google, Zoom and unmute with the best of them.
But the latest incomprehensible technical revolution has me flummoxed. I seriously fear I will not have mastered artificial intelligence before passing on to a world where, hopefully, the most I will have to cope with are some old-fashioned golden gates, and there will be a nice angel to explain how they work.
I understand Tom Hanks appears in a new film in which, using AI, he plays himself as a boy and young man. They call it de-ageing. I’m not sure if his body is included in this miracle. If they de-aged just my face and it was on top of my wizen, limping body, the effect would be macabre.
The implications for my profession of this technology are complicated. One trivial advantage occurs to me. It must be so difficult for a beautiful woman or handsome man to see those looks deteriorate, and indeed for some, whose careers have been largely based on their glamour, the loss affects work opportunities. Now, maybe in place of the usually ineffective, sometimes tragic results of cosmetic surgery, hair dye and thick makeup, they can be de-aged by AI, and continue to play the glamorous roles from which they make their living.
Can I be made to look 14? Does it mean I could play Juliet? I vaguely understand that a mashup of all my old performances is made to guess how I would look in the role. Some AI approaches could even do the acting for me. But surely that doesn’t allow for some of the maybe quirky, unexpected choices of interpretation that I might have followed had I really played it?
I was recently sent a demo of some songs that someone wants me to record and perform, which used an AI version of my voice, superimposed on orchestrations used by Garland, Streisand etc. The only trouble is that the voice, concocted from previous performances, sounds much better than I will be able to summon up in reality. Presumably, once I am scanned, a version of me is created that can be put into any show. I can’t wait to do Naked Attraction.
I recently watched a few episodes of the TV series The Sweeney. If they created a new AI version of one, which I assume they could, I cannot believe it would capture the wit, rage and humanity found in the original version.
If we can create new Beethoven symphonies, or a reincarnation of George Best in invented matches (that dates me), we no longer need to mourn the loss of them. They can go on composing and kicking a ball into eternity.
Will we eventually get rid of old age, or certainly the look of it? If poor President Biden uses an AI version of himself for interviews, it could be programmed to be gaffe-free. But then the real president would not learn one of life’s lessons, of letting things go in old age.
For such a potentially seismic change to our way of life, there is not enough understandable information out there for ignoramuses like me. In my case, it will once more fall on my grandchildren to educate me. It can obviously be a power for good. I hope that there are clever people in the world getting together and planning to use it wisely, not just for the scientific and financial potential it presents. I hope they don’t forget creativity, originality, eccentricity, breaking the mould, defying the rules. They must preserve our souls. Those qualities, in fact, which make us human.
Sheila Hancock is an actor and a writer
