In the early 1800s in Paris and other capitals, there was a stage and parlor act called The Mechanical Turk. To the astonishment of audiences, this large wooden box played a masterful game of chess. Long after, it was revealed the box contained not wires and levers, but a skillful dwarf.
In this counter-factual, the Mechanical Turk comes back from extensive repairs to display...quite a new reperatory of skills.
The Astonishing Mechanical Turk Demonstrates Its New General Intelligence
From Our Correspondent in Vienna, 1811
Last Tuesday evening I attended another exhibition of Herr von Kempelen's celebrated Mechanical Turk. I had expected merely another exhibition of chess, but I found instead that the machine has apparently undergone a considerable software update.
The audience was informed that the Turk would no longer be confined to chess. It would now answer general questions on any subject, summarize books it had not read, compose poetry upon request, prepare legal memoranda, and assist schoolboys with Latin compositions.
Its proprietor assured us that these improvements would "transform the knowledge economy."
This expression was entirely unfamiliar, but no one asked.
The demonstration commenced.
A gentleman inquired:
"Who was the greatest Roman emperor?"
The Turk considered for scarcely two seconds before replying,
"It depends upon your evaluation criteria. If military expansion is emphasized, Trajan. If administrative reform, Augustus. If philosophical influence, Marcus Aurelius. If one values effective branding, Julius Caesar."
Several professors applauded.
One whispered,
"It speaks with extraordinary confidence."
A clergyman asked,
"What is the population of Constantinople?"
The Turk replied,
"Approximately 6.3 million."
The audience looked puzzled.
The proprietor coughed politely.
"The machine occasionally hallucinates."
The audience accepted this explanation immediately and proceeded as though nothing unusual had occurred.
A lady requested,
"Write a sonnet in the style of Shakespeare concerning my Pomeranian."
The Turk complied instantly.
Although none present believed Shakespeare had ever seen such a dog, everyone agreed the stanza was indeed Shakespearean.
The editor of a local newspaper expressed concern.
"If this machine can well summarize parliamentary debates in seconds, what becomes of journalists?"
The proprietor answered cheerfully,
"You shall be freed to pursue higher-value activities."
The journalists looked unconvinced.
A barrister asked whether the Turk could draft contracts.
"It drafts them admirably," said the proprietor.
Several attorneys became visibly uncomfortable.
"Does it charge by the hour?' one asked.
"Not yet," said the proprietor.
The attorneys relaxed.
The proprietor next demonstrated what he called iterative prompting.
Instead of asking,
"Describe horses,"
he instructed the audience to request,
"Assume the role of an experienced cavalry officer writing for novice stablemasters. Use clear language. Include five practical examples."
The second answer was universally judged superior.
As I departed, I overheard two fathers discussing the future.
"My son is studying bookkeeping."
"A grave mistake."
"And yours?"
"He is learning how to ask the Turk better questions."
"A wise investment."
"But I would not trust it with matters of great consequence."
The other paused.
"Still," he said, "It writes a good first draft."
