For the Symposium on The Law And Policy Of AI, Robotics, and Telemedicine In Health Care.
“Why, would it be unthinkable that I should stay in the saddle however much the facts bucked?”
- Ludwig Wittgenstein, On Certainty
Heading in
one direction, patients’ decision-making
capacity is increasing, thanks to an encouraging shift in patient
treatment. Health providers are moving away from substitute
decision-making—which permits
a designated person
to take over a patient’s health care decisions, should that patient’s cognitive
capacity become sufficiently diminished. Instead, there is a movement towards supported decision-making, which
allows patients
with diminished cognitive capacity to make their own life choices through the
support of a team of helpers.
Heading in
the exact opposite direction, doctors’ decision-making
capacity is diminishing, due to a potentially concerning shift in the way doctors diagnose
and treat patients. For many years now, various forms of data analytics and
other technologies have been used to support doctors’ decision-making. Now, doctors
and hospitals are starting to employ artificial intelligence (AI) to diagnose
and treat patients, and for an existing set of sub-specialties, the more honest
characterization is that these AIs no longer support doctors’ decisions—they
make them. As a result, health providers are moving right past supported
decision-making and towards what one might characterize as substitute decision
making by AIs.
In this
post, I contemplate two questions.
First, does
thinking about AI as a substitute decision-maker add value to the discourse?
Second, putting
patient decision making aside, what might this strange provocation tell us about
the agency and decisional autonomy of doctors, as medical decision making
becomes more and more automated?
1. The Substitution Effect
In a very
thoughtful elaboration of Ryan Calo’s well known claim that robots
exhibit social
valence, the main
Balkinizer himself, Jack
Balkin, has made
a number of interesting observations about what happens when we let robots and AIs stand in for humans and treat them as such.
Jack calls
this the “substitution effect”. It occurs
when—in certain contexts and for certain purposes—we treat robots and AIs as special
purpose human beings. Sometimes we deliberately construct these substitutions,
other times they are emotional or instinctual.
Jack is very careful to explain that
we ought not to regard robots and AI substitutes as fully identical to that
which for which they are a substitute. Rather—as with artificial sweeteners—it is merely a provisional
equivalence; we reserve the right to reject the asserted identity whenever
there is no further utility in maintaining it. Robots and AIs are not persons even if there is practical
value, in limited circumstances, to treat them as such. In this sense, Jack sees
their substitution
as partial. Robots and AIs only take on particular
aspects and capacities of people.
It is the very fact that the substitution is
only partial—that robots and AIs “straddle the line between selves and tools”—that
makes them, at once, both better and worse. A robot soldier may be a
superior fighter because it is not be
subject to the fog of war. On the other hand, its quality
of mercy is most
definitely strained (and “droppeth [not] as the gentle rain from heaven upon the
place beneath”).
Still, as Jack explains, there is
sometimes practical legal value in treating robots as if they are live agents,
and I agree.
As an example, Jack cites Annemarie
Bridy’s idea that a
court might treat AI-produced art as equivalent to a ‘work made for hire’ if
doing so minimizes the need to change existing copyright law. As the regal Blackstone
famously described
legal maneuvers of this sort:
We inherit an old Gothic castle, erected in the days
of chivalry, but fitted up for a modern inhabitant. The moated ramparts, the
embattled towers, and the trophied halls, are magnificent and venerable, but
useless. The inferior apartments, now converted into rooms of conveyance, are
cheerful and commodious, thought their approaches are winding and difficult.
Indeed, had Lon Fuller lived in these
interesting times, he would appreciate the logic of the fiction that treats robots as if they have legal attributes for special purposes. Properly
circumscribed, provisional attributions of this sort might enable the law to keep
calm and carry on until such time as we are able to more fully understand the
culture of robots in healthcare and produce more thorough and coherent legal
reforms.
It was this sort of motive that
inspired Jason Millar and me, back in 2012, to entertain
what Fuller would have called an expository
fiction (at the first ever We
Robot conference). We
wondered about the prospect of expert robots in medical decision-making.
Rejecting Richards’ and Smart’s it's-either-a-toaster-or-a-person
approach and
following Peter Kahn, Calo, and others, we take the
view that law may need to start thinking about intermediate
ontological categories
where robots and AIs substitute for human beings. Our main example is in the
field of medical diagnostics AIs. We suggest that these AI systems may, one
day, outperform human doctors; that this will result in pressure to delegate
medical diagnostic decision-making to these AI systems; and that this, in turn,
will cause various conundrums in cases where doctors disagree with the outcomes
generated by machines. We published our hypotheses and discussed the resultant
ethical and legal challenges in a book called Robot Law (in a chapter titled, “Delegation,
Relinquishment and Responsibility: The Prospect of Expert Robots”).
2. Superior ML-Generated Diagnostics
Since the publication of that
work, diagnostics generated through machine learning (ML), a popular subset of
AI, have advanced rapidly. I think it is fair to say that—despite IBM Watson’s overhyped
claims and recent
stumbles—a number of other ML-generated diagnostics have
already outperformed, or are on the verge of outperforming doctors in a narrow range of tasks and
decision-making. Although this may be difficult to measure, one thing is
certain: it is getting harder and harder to treat these AIs as mere
instruments. They are generating powerful decisions that the medical profession
and our health systems are relying upon.
This is not surprising when one
considers that ML software can see certain patterns in medical data that human
doctors cannot. If spotting patterns in large swaths of data enables ML to
generate superior diagnostic track records, it’s easy to imagine Jack’s
substitution effect playing out in medical decision making. To repeat, no one will
claim ML to be people, nor will they exhibit anything like the general skills
or intelligence of human doctors. ML will not perfect or even generate near
perfect diagnostic outcomes in every case. Indeed, ML will make
mistakes. In fact, as Froomkin et al. have demonstrated, ML-generated errors may be even more
difficult to catch and correct than human errors.
Froomkin
et al. (I am part of et al.) offer many reasons to believe
that diagnostics
generated by ML will have demonstrably better success rates than those
generated by human doctors alone.
The
focus of our work, however, is on the legal, ethical, and health policy consequences
that follow once AIs
outperform doctors. In
short, we argue that existing medical malpractice law will come to require superior
ML-generated medical diagnostics as the standard of care in clinical settings.
We go on to suggest that, in time, effective ML will create overwhelming legal,
ethical, and economical pressure to delegate the diagnostic process to machines.
This shift is what leads me to
believe that the doctors’ decision making capacity could soon diminish. I say
this because, as we argue in the article, medical decision-making will
eventually reach the point where the bulk of clinical outcomes collected in
databases result from ML-generated diagnoses, and that this is very likely to lead
to future decision scenarios that are not easily audited or understood by human
doctors.
3. Delegated Decision Making
While
it may be more tempting than ever to imbue machines with human attributes, it
is important to remember that today’s medical AI isn’t really anything more
than a bunch of clever computer science techniques that permit machines to perform tasks that would otherwise
require human intelligence. As I have tried to suggest above, recent successes in ML-generated diagnosis may catalyze
the view of AI as substitute decision makers in some useful sense.
But
let’s be sure to understand what is really going on here. What is AI really doing?
Simply
put, AI transforms a major effort into a minor one.
Doctors
can delegate to AI the work of an army of humans. In fact, much of what is actually
happening here is at best a metaphorical description whereby we allow an AI to
stand in for significant human labor that is happening invisibly, behind the scenes.
(In this case, researchers and practitioners feeding the machines massive
amounts of medical data and training algorithms to interpret, process and understand
it as meaningful medical knowledge). References to deep learning, AIs as
substitute decision makers, and similar concepts offer some utility—but they
also reinforce the
illusion that machines are smarter than they actually are.
Astra
Taylor was right to
warn us about this slight-of-hand, which she refers to as fauxtomation. Fauxtomation occurs not only in
the medical context described in the preceding paragraph but across a broader
range of devices and apps that are characterized as AI. To paraphrase her
simple but effective real-life example of an app used for food deliveries, we
come to say things like: ‘Whoa! How did your AI know that my order would be ready twenty minutes early?’ To which the
human server at the take-out booth replies: ‘because the response was actually from
me. I sent you a message via the app once your organic rice bowl was ready!’
This example is
the substitution effect gone wild: general human intelligence is attributed to a
so-called smart app. While I have tried to demonstrate that there may be value
in understanding some AIs as substitute
decision makers in limited circumstances—because AI is only a partial
substitute—the metaphor loses its utility once we start attributing anything
like general intelligence or complete autonomy to the AI.
Having examined the metaphorical
value in thinking of AIs as substitute decision makers,
let’s now turn to my second
question: what happens to the agency and decisional autonomy of doctors if AI becomes
the de facto
decider?
4. Machine Autonomy and the Agentic Shift
Recent successes in ML-generated diagnosis (and other applications in
which machines are trained to transcend their initial programming) have
catalyzed a shift in discourse from automatic machines to machine autonomy.
With increasing frequency, the final dance between data and algorithm
takes place without understanding, and often with human intervention or oversight.
Indeed, in many cases, humans have a hard time explaining how or why the
machine got it right (or wrong).
Curiously, the fact that a machine is capable of operation without
explicit command has become understood as the machine is self-governing, that
it is capable of making decisions on its own. But, as Ryan Calo has warned, “the
tantalizing prospect of original action” should not lead us to
presume that machines exhibit consciousness, intentionality or, for that
matter, autonomy. Neither is there good reason to think that today’s ML successes
prescribe or prefigure machine autonomy as something health law, policy, and
ethics will need to consider down the road.
As
the song goes, “the
future is but a question mark.”
Rather than prognosticating about
whether there will ever be machine autonomy, I end this post by considering
what happens when the substitution effect leads us to perceive such autonomy in
machines generating medical decisions. I do so by borrowing from Stanley
Milgram’s well known
notion of an ‘agentic
shift’—"the process whereby humans transfer
responsibility for an outcome from themselves to a more abstract agent.”
Before explaining how the
outcomes of Milgram’s experiments on obedience to authority apply to the
question at hand, it is useful to first understand the technological shift from
automatic machines to so-called autonomous machines. Automatic machines are
those that simply carry out their programming. The key characteristic of automatic
machines is their relentless predictability. With automatic machines, unintended consequences are to be understood as a
malfunction. So-called autonomous machines are different in kind. Instead of
simply following commands, these machines are intentionally devised to supersede
their initial programming. ML is a paradigmatic example of this—it is designed
to make predictions and anticipate unknown circumstances (think: object
recognition in autonomous vehicles). With so-called autonomous machines, the possibility
of generating unintended or unanticipated consequences is not a malfunction. It
is a feature, not a bug.
To
bring this back to medical decision making, it is important to see what happens
once doctors start to understand ML-generated diagnosis as anticipatory, autonomous
machines (as opposed to software that merely automates human decisions by if/then
programming). Applying Milgram’s notion of an agentic shift, there is a risk that
doctors, hospitals, or health policy professionals who perceive AIs as autonomous,
substitute decision makers, will transfer responsibility for an outcome from
themselves to the AIs.
This
agentic shift explains not only the popular obsession with AI superintelligence but also some rather stunning policy
recommendations regarding liability for robots that go wrong—including the highly
controversial report
by the European Parliament
to treat robots and AIs as “electronic persons”.
According to Milgram, when humans undergo an agentic shift,
they move from an autonomous state to an agentic state. In so doing, they no
longer see themselves as moral decision makers. This perceived moral incapacity
permits them to simply carry out the decisions of the abstract decision maker that
has taken charge. There are good psychological reasons for this to happen. An
agentic shift relieves the moral strain felt by a decision maker. Once a moral
decision maker shifts to being an agent who merely carries out decisions (in
this case, decisions made by powerful, autonomous machines), one no longer
feels responsible for (or even capable of making) those decisions.
This is something that was reinforced for me recently, when
I came to rely on GPS to navigate the French motorways. As someone who had
resisted this technology up until that point, not to mention someone who had
never driven on those complex roadways before, I felt like the proverbial cog
in the wheel. I was merely the human cartilage cushioning the moral friction
between the navigational software and the vehicle. I carried out basic
instructions, actuating the logic in the machine. Adopting this behavior, my decisional
autonomy was surrendered to the GPS. Other than programming my destination, I merely
did what I was told—even when it was pretty clear that I was going the wrong
way. Every time I sought to challenge the machine, I eventually capitulated. It
was up to the GPS to work it out. Although most people seem perfectly happy
with GPS, I felt a strange dissonance in this delegated decision making: in
choosing not to decide, I still had made a choice. I vowed to stop using GPS upon
my return to Canada so that my navigational decision making capacity would remain
intact. But I continue using it, and my navigational skills now suck,
accordingly.
My hypothesis is that our increasing tendency to treat AIs
as substitute decision makers diminishes our decisional autonomy by causing
profound agentic shifts. There will be many situations where we were previously
in autonomous states but are moved to agentic states. By definition, we will
relinquish control, moral responsibility and, in some cases, legal liability.
This is not merely dystopic doom-saying on my account. There
will be many beneficial social outcomes that accompany such agentic shifts.
Navigation and medical diagnostics are just a couple of them. In the same way
that agentic shifts enhance or make possible certain desirable social
structures (e.g., chain of command in
corporate, educational, or military environments), we will be able to
accomplish many things not previously possible by relinquishing some autonomy
to machines.
The bigger risk, of course, is the move that takes place in
the opposite direction—what I call the autonomous
shift. This is precisely the reverse of the agentic shift, i.e., the very opposite of what Stanley
Milgram observed in his famous experiments on obedience. Following the same
logic in reverse, as humans
find themselves more and more in agentic states, I suspect that we will increasingly
tend to project or attribute autonomous states to machines. AIs will
transform from their current role as data-driven
agents (as Mireille
Hildebrandt likes to call them) to being seen as autonomous and
authoritative decision makers in their own right.
If this is correct, I am now able to answer my second
question posed at the outset. Allowing AIs as a substitute decision makers,
rather than merely acting as decisional supports, will indeed impact the agency
and decisional autonomy of doctors. This, in turn, will impact doctors’
decision making capacity just as my own was impacted when I delegated my
navigational decision making to my GPS.
Ian Kerr is the Canada
Research Chair in Ethics, Law and Technology at the University of Ottawa, where
he holds appointments in Law, Medicine, Philosophy and Information Studies. You
can reach him by e-mail at iankerr at uottawa.ca or on twitter @ianrkerr