Engineering and the human body

 

Campus labs provide students with opportunities to explore a range of biomechanics applications. In the AMP Lab, for example, researchers investigate the dynamics and control of movement to design treatment strategies and assistive technologies that improve function and quality of life. Mark Stone / University of Washington

According to Hector Iturribarria Bazaldua, the most exciting aspect of biomechanics is the “unknowingness.”

“In biomechanics we look at the human body as a complex system, a machine. But every human body is different and they’re always changing,” he explains. “This unknowingness makes biomechanics a challenging but fascinating area to study.”

Bazaldua, who received his ME bachelor’s degree last spring, was part of the department’s first cohort of students to graduate with a concentration in biomechanics. Along with mechatronics and nanoscience and molecular engineering, it’s one of three degree options in which ME undergrads may choose to focus while at the UW.

“Using mechanical engineering approaches to understand biological systems — and vice versa — has long been a strong interest area for ME researchers,” says ME associate professor Kat Steele, who coordinates the biomechanics option with ME professor Nate Sniadecki. “Our goal is to formalize an academic framework for it and legitimize it as a professional pathway for students.”

“ME has a rich history of advancements in biomechanics and health technologies, thanks to the work of pioneers such as emeritus faculty Albert Kobayashi and Colin Daly and alumni Wayne Quinton and Savio Woo,” Sniadecki adds. “Plus, the department has partnered for nearly 20 years with the Seattle VA’s Center for Limb Loss and MoBility, a collaboration that has helped propel biomechanics research in new directions.”

Even as a sub-field of mechanical engineering, biomechanics is quite diverse. Researchers work in areas ranging from ergonomics, human factors design, cell mechanics, cardiovascular fluid dynamics and human-machine interaction to the development of medical devices, electronic wearables and sports equipment.

Last spring 10 students completed the program. Moving forward, Steele and Sniadecki hope to see 20-30 ME students graduating from it each year.

Pursuing biomechanics

Biomechanics researchers work in a range of areas, including human factors design and human-machine interaction. Mark Stone / University of Washington

To graduate with a biomechanics concentration, ME undergraduates must complete 19 biomechanics credits. ME 411, Biomechanics Frameworks for Engineers, and ME 419, the Biomechanics Seminar, are required. Beyond those, students select electives tailored to their interests.

“ME 411 was so engaging,” remembers Toni Erwin, who graduated from ME last spring. “We learned how to apply fundamental principles of engineering to systems within our own bodies and analyzed the science behind those systems to make predictions about human bodies more broadly.”

Erwin says that the electives opened up new ways for her to explore engineering. She took courses she would have otherwise shied away from, such as classes in vibrations and finite element analysis.

“These classes focused on system dynamics, which had never been interesting to me until I started applying it in a biomechanical sense,” she says. “For example, in my vibrations class I tackled engineering challenges related to oscillation of movement in structures and systems — something very important in analyzing motion capture data or designing a prosthetic device to reduce impact on the residual limb.”

ME’s biomechanics does not require a pathway specific capstone project. However, many students choose to participate in Engineering Innovation in Health (EIH) — the department’s capstone program that connects local clinicians with student teams to solve pressing healthcare challenges — as program credits count toward the option. So, too, do credits from internships at places such as the Seattle VA.

Biomechanics students often take part in Engineering Innovation in Health, ME’s year-long program that partners engineering students with clinicians to design medical devices aimed toward lowering costs and improving care. Matt Hagen / Engineering Innovation in Health

ME graduate Ian Johnson did both. “During my sophomore year I interned at the VA where I helped create 3D-printed foot models for researchers working to enhance mobility in people with foot and leg impairments,” he says.

Then during his senior year, he took part in EIH and was on a team called DopCuff, which created a device to get more accurate blood pressure readings.

“Having real-world experience like these projects and working alongside clinicians, professional engineers and sometimes even patients was so valuable,” he says.

Becoming a more well-rounded engineer

During the winter quarter seminar, biomechanics students have the opportunity to hear from industry leaders and professionals, connecting them to potential post-graduation career opportunities. Since it’s only offered once each year and can help students decide if the biomechanics option aligns with their interests, Sniadecki advises students interested in the biomechanics concentration to take the seminar before their senior year.

Irwin, Johnson and Bazaldua say that their biomechanics background played a key role in the jobs they now have, even if those jobs are not directly related to the field.

“The skills I gained through biomechanics helped me become a more well-rounded engineer, something companies really value” says Erwin. Now a mechanical design engineer at Katerra, she hopes to attend graduate school in the future so she can further her studies in biomechanics.

Johnson is a mechanical engineer at Pure Watercraft, a company that makes electric motors for boats. Though his current position is not directly involved in biomechanics, he says there’s opportunity to move in that direction once he has more on-the-job experience.

And Bazaldua, who now works at The Boeing Company on flight deck design and crew operations, finds that he draws from his background every day.

“My team’s work is concentrated in human-machine interaction, especially how pilots and crew interact with airplanes,” he says. “It’s very biomechanics, which makes my job complex but cool to work on.”

 

 

[Source : https://www.me.washington.edu/news/2020/01/08/engineering-and-human-body]

The Real Threat From A.I. Isn’t Superintelligence. It’s Gullibility.

 

 

Possessed Photography/Unsplash

 

The rapid rise of artificial intelligence over the past few decades, from pipe dream to reality, has been staggering. A.I. programs have long been chess and Jeopardy! Champions, but they have also conquered poker, crossword puzzles, Go, and even protein folding. They power the social media, video, and search sites we all use daily, and very recently they have leaped into a realm previously thought unimaginable for computers: artistic creativity.

 

Given this meteoric ascent, it’s not surprising that there are continued warnings of a bleak Terminator-style future of humanity destroyed by superintelligent A.I.s that we unwittingly unleash upon ourselves. But when you look beyond the splashy headlines, you’ll see that the real danger isn’t how smart A.I.s are. It’s how mindless they are—and how delusional we tend to be about their so-called intelligence.

 

Last summer an engineer at Google claimed the company’s latest A.I. chatbot is a sentient being because … it told him so. This chatbot, similar to the one Facebook’s parent company recently released publicly, can indeed give you the impression you’re talking to a futuristic, conscious creature. But this is an illusion—it is merely a calculator that chooses words semi-randomly based on statistical patterns from the internet text it was trained on. It has no comprehension of the words it produces, nor does it have any thoughts or feelings. It’s just a fancier version of the autocomplete feature on your phone.

 

Chatbots have come a long way since early primitive attempts in the 1960s, but they are no closer to thinking for themselves than they were back then. There is zero chance a current A.I. chatbot will rebel in an act of free will—all they do is turn text prompts into probabilities and then turn these probabilities into words. Future versions of these A.I.s aren’t going to decide to exterminate the human race; they are going to kill people when we foolishly put them in positions of power that they are far too stupid to have—such as dispensing medical advice or running a suicide prevention hotline.

 

It’s been said that TikTok’s algorithm reads your mind. But it’s not reading your mind—it’s reading your data. TikTok finds users with similar viewing histories as you and selects videos for you that they’ve watched and interacted with favorably. It’s impressive, but it’s just statistics. Similarly, the A.I. systems used by Facebook and Instagram and Twitter don’t know what information is true, what posts are good for your mental health, what content helps democracy flourish—all they know is what you and others like you have done on the platform in the past and they use this data to predict what you’ll likely do there in the future.

 

Don’t worry about superintelligent A.I.s trying to enslave us; worry about ignorant and venal A.I.s designed to squeeze every penny of online ad revenue out of us.

 

And worry about police agencies that gullibly think A.I.s can anticipate crimes before they occur—when in reality all they do is perpetuate harmful stereotypes about minorities.

 

The reality is that no A.I. could ever harm us unless we explicitly provide it the opportunity to do so—yet we seem hellbent on putting unqualified A.I.s in powerful decision-making positions where they could do exactly that.

 

Part of why we ascribe far greater intelligence and autonomy to A.I.s than they merit is because their inner-workings are largely inscrutable. They involve lots of math, lots of computer code, and billions of parameters. This complexity blinds us, and our imagination fills in what we don’t see with more than is actually there.

 

In 1770, a chess playing robot—or “automaton,” in the parlance of the day—was created that for almost a century traveled the world and defeated many flabbergasted challengers, including notable individuals such as Napoleon and Benjamin Franklin. But it was eventually revealed to be a hoax: This was not some remarkable early form of A.I., it was just a contraption in which a human chess player could hide in a box and control a pair of mechanical arms. People so desperately wanted to see intelligence in a machine that for 84 years they overlooked the much more banal (and obvious, in hindsight) explanation: chicanery.

 

While our technology has progressed by leaps and bounds since the 18th century, our romantic attitude toward it has not. We still refuse to look inside the box, instead choosing to believe that magic in the form of superintelligence is occurring, or that it is just around the corner. This fanciful yearning distracts us from the genuine danger A.I. poses when we mistakenly think it is much smarter than it actually is. And if the past 250 years are any indication, this is the real danger that will persist into our future.

 

Just as people in the 18th and 19th centuries overlooked the banal truth behind the chess playing automaton, people today are overlooking a banal but effective way to protect our future selves from the risk of runaway A.I.s. We should expand A.I. literacy efforts to schools and the wider public so that people are less susceptible to the illusions of A.I. grandeur peddled by futurists and technology companies whose economic livelihood depends on convincing you that A.I. is far more capable than it really is.

 

Future Tense is a partnership of Slate, New America, and Arizona State University that examines emerging technologies, public policy, and society.

 

[Source https://slate.com/technology/2022/10/artificial-intelligence-superintelligence-gullibility.html]