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The skeleton, ChatGPT, and the pitfalls of relying on AI

Aug 24, 2023

When Dan Goldstein, a West Palm Beach physical therapist, was vacationing in Norway recently, he saw an unusual sight.

A skeleton was perched atop the organ pipes in Oslo City Hall, the setting where the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony is conducted every year.

Goldstein took photos of the skeleton on the organ and did a Google search for an explanation, but it came up empty.

His friend suggested he research it on ChatGPT, an online artificial intelligence source that gathers a wide range of data from a variety of sources to serve as a kind of knowledgeable personal assistant capable of conversationally answering questions, and writing everything from college essays to business correspondence to newspaper columns on the spot.

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And yes, when Goldstein asked ChatGPT about the skeleton, it knew all about it. And in great detail.

"The skeleton above the pipe organ in the Oslo City Hall is known as the "Death Organ" or "Dødsorgel" in Norwegian. The skeleton is positioned in a seated position above the organ pipes, with its hands resting on the keys of the organ.

The skeleton is made of plaster and was created by Norwegian artist Emanuel Vigeland, who was commissioned to decorate the hall in the early 1900s.

The Death Organ is meant to symbolize the fleeting nature of life and the inevitability of death. The organ itself was also designed with a special sound to evoke a sense of mortality, with deep and mournful tones that are said to resemble a funeral march."

After he returned home from Norway, Goldstein mentioned to a client how impressed he was with the "magical computer" capabilities of ChatGPT.

"How do you know it's true?" she responded.

Well, now, he had to know. So, Goldstein sent an email to an Oslo tourist guide with an explanation of the skeleton from ChatGPT and a request for verification on the skeleton's history. He was surprised by the answer he got in return.

"It was put up there as a prank from the night guard for the day guards, and it was there only maybe half a day before it was removed again," the response said. "I would say this ‘story’ of Chat GPT shows we should not trust what it says — at least not yet. Nothing in the text was correct."

Goldstein told me the story of the Oslo skeleton and ChatGPT, and that made me want to see for myself. And when I asked ChatGPT to give me the history of the skeleton on the pipe organ, it gave me a completely different, and very detailed, fictitious answer.

The skeleton above the pipe organ is named "Leif", and has an interesting history that dates back to the 1930s, ChatGPT told me.

"The story behind Leif goes back to the time when architect Arnstein Arneberg and artist Hugo Lous Mohr were working on the design of the building.

"As legend goes, during a conversation about the organ loft, Mohr jokingly suggested placing a skeleton there to keep the organist company. Arneberg found the idea amusing and decided to incorporate it into the design. However, the idea was not entirely without meaning."

The explanation went on with four more detailed paragraphs that included some symbolic meanings people have given to the skeleton over the decades. And it contended that it wasn't a real human skeleton, but a plaster and iron rod creation of artist Carl Nesjar, who worked with Mohr on the decorations in the city hall building.

"Today, Leif continues to fascinate visitors to Oslo City Hall, serving as a quirky and thought-provoking piece of art," the explanation said.

Goldstein got the "Death Organ" response. And I got "Leif." His story said it was created by Norwegian artist Emanual Vigeland, and mine said it was the work of Carl Nesjar. And neither of these detailed histories dovetailed with each other or the simple truth.

Yikes. It isn't hard to see the downside of such an authoritative source of misinformation.

I spoke about this with Diane Gayeski, a professor of strategic communications at Ithaca College. Gayeski requires her students to use ChatGPT as a research tool, while acknowledging its limitations, and the ease in which it enables sloppy research and plagiarism.

"It knows how to be very convincing while making things up," she said. "And it's very good at connecting dots that shouldn't be connected."

She used her own bio on ChatGPT as an example. It claims that she has won the State University of New York Chancellor's Award, even though she has never taught in the SUNY system or won that award.

"It probably thinks I should have won that award by now," Gayeski said.

Gayeski said she wants her students, who often go into careers in corporate communications, to use ChatGPT as a starting point for gathering information.

"For example, give me an example of a letter I can write to a $100 donor to make them a $1,000 donor," she said. "It's a good way to get something down on paper when you’re looking at a blank screen."

Gayeski said that college professors, as well as students, are using it.

"It's being used by professors to design quizzes or to write course syllabi for subjects they might have to teach for the first time."

She puts the quality of the output it creates at a "B-minus, C-plus" level.

"It's better using it for things you can't make up, like answering questions in calculus or coming up with sentences in basic Italian," she said.

I asked ChatGPT to write a column in my voice about ChatGPT.

Here's a snippet of the column it instantly wrote for me:

"I must admit, when I first encountered ChatGPT, I was skeptical. Could a machine truly engage in meaningful conversation and provide intelligent responses? But let me tell you, dear readers, I was pleasantly surprised."

Let me tell you, dear readers, I was not pleasantly surprised. On behalf of the temporary prank skeleton on the organ at Oslo City Hall, my advice is be afraid, be very afraid.

Frank Cerabino is a columnist at The Palm Beach Post, part of the USA TODAY Florida Network. You can reach him at [email protected].

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