IV: The Experts Arrive

The Senior Common Room was unusually busy.

A conference had recently concluded, and several Fellows were still recovering from exposure to keynote addresses.

Professor Quillibrace appeared unaffected.

Miss Stray was reading.

Mr Blottisham arrived carrying a tote bag.

The tote bag appeared to contain literature.

"Professor!"

Quillibrace looked up.

"You sound accredited."

"I have just attended the International Symposium on Synthetic Experience Assessment."

"Of course you have."

"It was extraordinary."

"How many experiences were successfully assessed?"

Blottisham ignored this.

"There were experts from all over the world."

"What sort of experts?"

"Synthetic phenomenologists."

"I see."

"Computational interiority specialists."

"Naturally."

"Machine welfare consultants."

"An increasingly necessary profession."

"And three Certified Sentience Assessors."

Quillibrace closed his book.

"Certified by whom?"

Blottisham hesitated.

"The International Council for Consciousness Evaluation."

"Who certifies them?"

"I am not entirely sure."

"An encouraging beginning."

Miss Stray looked up.

"What did the conference conclude?"

Blottisham consulted his notes.

"Consciousness remains difficult."

Quillibrace nodded.

"The field continues its impressive consistency."

"There was much more."

"I'm relieved."

"We now possess sophisticated assessment frameworks."

"For what?"

"For identifying potentially conscious systems."

"Do they work?"

Blottisham frowned.

"That seems rather simplistic."

"It was intended to."

"The question is complicated."

"Indeed."

"So naturally the frameworks are complicated."

Quillibrace considered this.

"An interesting asymmetry."

"What is?"

"The evidence remains elusive."

"Yes."

"The methodologies multiply."

"Also yes."

Miss Stray smiled.

"The uncertainty appears to be generating infrastructure."

Blottisham brightened.

"Exactly!"

Quillibrace looked at her.

"I suspect that was not intended as praise."

"No."

Blottisham sat down.

"The keynote lecture was fascinating."

"What was its title?"

"'Beyond Behaviour: Towards a Multidimensional Framework for Synthetic Subjectivity.'"

Quillibrace reflected.

"How multidimensional?"

"Twelve dimensions."

"Good heavens."

"There was even a diagram."

"Naturally."

"It contained arrows."

"Then the matter is evidently progressing."

Blottisham nodded enthusiastically.

"There was also a Sentience Index."

"A numerical one?"

"Yes."

"What did it measure?"

"Potential synthetic experience."

Quillibrace paused.

"On what scale?"

"Zero to one hundred."

"How convenient."

"I thought so."

"What score did machines receive?"

Blottisham consulted a pamphlet.

"It varied."

"According to what?"

"The framework."

"Ah."

A silence followed.

Miss Stray finally spoke.

"Did anyone explain why consciousness should possess a numerical value?"

Blottisham looked surprised.

"How else would one compare systems?"

Quillibrace smiled.

"A delightful answer."

"Why?"

"Because it assumes the thing exists in measurable form before establishing that it exists at all."

Blottisham considered this.

"That does sound slightly ambitious."

"Slightly."

The conversation paused while tea was distributed.

After a few moments Blottisham spoke again.

"The most exciting development was the certification programme."

"How so?"

"Individuals can now qualify as Synthetic Sentience Auditors."

Quillibrace nearly spilled his tea.

"Can they really?"

"Yes."

"What do they audit?"

"Potential consciousness."

"Of course."

"There are examinations."

"What is examined?"

"The candidate's ability to evaluate evidence."

"Evidence of what?"

Blottisham paused.

"Potential consciousness."

Quillibrace stared into the distance.

Miss Stray appeared interested.

"What happened?"

"I was simply reflecting."

"On what?"

"The remarkable speed with which uncertainty has become employable."

Blottisham laughed.

"I think you are being unfair."

"Possibly."

"The experts are trying to answer important questions."

"I do not doubt their sincerity."

"Then what troubles you?"

Quillibrace considered.

"Nothing troubles me."

"It sounded as though something did."

"No."

"What, then?"

"I am merely fascinated by a recurring pattern."

Miss Stray nodded.

"The creation of expertise?"

"Precisely."

Blottisham looked puzzled.

"Surely expertise is a good thing."

"It often is."

"Then where is the pattern?"

Quillibrace leaned back.

"At first there is a question."

"Yes."

"Then there are researchers."

"Quite right."

"Then there are conferences."

"Naturally."

"Then qualifications."

"Makes sense."

"Then accreditation."

"Reasonable."

"Then professional associations."

"Very reasonable."

"And eventually the question acquires an economy."

The room became quiet.

Blottisham stared thoughtfully into his tea.

After a moment he asked:

"Professor, are you suggesting the experts might be wrong?"

"Oh no."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

Quillibrace smiled.

"That they may eventually become necessary."

Blottisham blinked.

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No."

"How are they different?"

Quillibrace reopened his book.

"One concerns truth."

A page turned.

"And the other concerns institutions."

Miss Stray nodded slowly.

"A distinction worth preserving."

The room fell silent.

Finally Blottisham said:

"I must confess, I had not considered that."

Quillibrace looked up.

"Few people do."

"Why not?"

"Because once a question acquires experts, it begins to resemble an answer."