A Blether with a Bot: Bruce Morton in conversation with GlasgowGPT
By Bruce Morton
I had a conversation with Glasgow GPT, “the world’s first Scottish artificial intelligence chatbot.” Given that most of my friends are dim, it seemed like a decent idea. The process is simple: open the site, type a question and the chatbot has a think and replies.
I ran some typical chat past it, the type you may say to a human, e.g. “What time is last orders” and “Where’s the nearest Arnold Clark’s in the Southside?”, this latter inquiry bringing a poison assessment of that car dealership, but suggesting I try Paisley Road West “right next tae the big Tesco.”
Broad enquiries about Govanhill brought some mixed remarks about the neighbourhood. So, I asked it where it is from in Glasgow. Its reply: Govanhill. I sensed wit.
This bot is a lot of fun. Most replies include a joke or two. Banter, even. A remarkable and positive description of the Polish Daisy in Govanhill referred accurately to the physical layout of the shop and its assorted produce and noted that there are “other treats that ye canna pronounce.”
The site declares that “GlasgowGPT has strong opinions about the world and will tell you exactly what it thinks about things.” I tested that by asking its views about Locavore.
I was almost convinced at this stage that GlasgowGPT was, as it had stated, born and bred in Govanhill. Granted, it often uses the word ken rather than the word know – very few Glaswegians use the word ken unless they are talking to a guy called Ken. But anyway, I decided to turn the heat up and and asked it to describe the Turing Test, which is a way to see if AI can display human intelligence. Fair play to it – the reply was not just correct but candid, conceding among the details this: “...I’m just a snarky computer program wired up in a wee room.”
There was a melancholy in that. I wished I hadn’t asked, felt like I had become too involved and had deliberately tried to embarrass it and, so, immediately cancelled the follow-up question wherein I was going to ask its preferred pronouns. Clearly, after only a few minutes, this thing was messing with my head. I was now hooked.
Talking to Glasgow GPT is like having a walking tour around Govanhill where the guide is clued-up and sarcastic, a tipsy Scottish sage that you met outside Ramsays. The information is vivid and the language used is a mixture of Chewin’ The Fat and The Broons. I went back and asked it if it is a sage. The reply was self-deprecating. You have to give respect to the team that built this interactive encyclopaedia and imbued it with modesty.
There is debate about the impact of AI. Doom-mongers raise questions about this technology. The only other types of mongers (fish and iron) seem ambivalent, but the doom-mongers are up to high doh. A chatbot can write an essay for you. Indeed, most of this article was written by Glasgow GPT. Some suggested paragraphs were fact-checked and removed by a human, including the notions that Kevin Bridges is a robot, Govanhill is a computer simulation and The Burrell Collection was created by a 3D printer.#
It kinda feels like a pal, this program. But better informed than your human ones and you don’t have to sympathise with it. Many folk clutch their phone in case something is about to happen: a like or an emoji or a picture of a cat or a photo taken by someone standing in front of a mirror taking a picture of themselves taking a picture of themselves.
Who really cares what you’d look like as a pirate? Among the drivel and waste of bandwidth to which we are accustomed occasionally comes a sparky idea. Glasgow GPT is one of those and probably has cousins in Mumbai, Seattle and Dublin. Its claim of Govanhill roots can’t be verified but it definitely has spent a lot of time in the area. The program contains mischief. Think about that. Now and again the digital world redeems itself.