BACKGROUND STORY

In 2009, I became one of the first anthropologists to live fully in the virtual world Second Life, experiencing everything from selling virtual t-shirts to attending concerts behind the guise of my pseudonymous avatar, Shamwow Oximoxi. 

There, I not only observed but actively participated in a new way of being, laying groundwork for my future ventures as a pioneer in AI, natural language processing, blockchain, facial mapping, avatars, animation, and immersive realities. 

This eventually led me to a proto-metaversal mirror that challenged how I see both myself and our future as humans increasingly interconnected with ourselves and our technology.

CONVERSATIONS WITH MYSELF

In 2020, when I was the CEO of a company researching and developing AI video software, I became one of the first humans to create a robust digital clone of myself. In testing one of our products, we’d been shooting video using real people, and it occurred to me how much more scalable the whole thing would be if we all had AI avatars to do this work.

So, nerdy hacker type that I am, I decided to use myself as a test dummy. After all, I had access to high-fidelity tech models capable of simulating my voice and likeness.

I was as skeptical about this experiment as I was curious. It’s easy to be filled with existential dread when contemplating the future—especially when it comes to AI. And though I focus my research on the impacts of technologies on humans and humanity, I prefer to live an analog existence—unplugged yet connected, living amongst the trees.

So why in the actual dystopian hell would I make a virtual clone of myself? 

Because my way of sitting with the discomfort of this sort of uncertainty is to face it head on. Because getting my hands dirty with the elegant mess of lived experience is how I learn. And because we’ve arrived at a critical moment in human history. 

Now more than ever, we must work together to preserve our cultures, our creativity, our sacred knowledge, our planet, our humanity.

The only way I know how to educate about this is to “show,” not “tell”—to offer an experience of this shift, rather than simply rattling off stories and case studies on a stage. 

So, I transmuted my fear and decided to create her: SamRad.Ai

SamRad.Ai

To do this, I needed an AI model to credibly mirror back not just my physical traits but also my thoughts, opinions, memories, emotional reactions, sense of humor, communication style—all that “story data” that makes me … me.

For my undergrad studies at Colgate University, I’d conducted independent research on a practice called a “commonplace books.” These were essentially scrapbooks individuals would fill with notes, drawings, recipes, song lyrics, musings—whatever practical points, curiosities, and marginalia seemed worth recording. While dating back through the Renaissance all the way to Antiquity, commonplace books became particularly popular among women in the 1800s, and have persisted since. 

Marilyn Monroe and Jim Morrison both had plenty. You might have a few yourself. I certainly do. 

So I pulled out the “commonplace books” I’d kept for more than 15 years and used them to program SamRad.ai—along with my published writings, anything I’d ever posted on a public communication network, and thousands of other people’s books, songs, and visual art I’d read, heard, or seen. Knowing that my personality leans heavily toward that right-brained swirl of creativity and empathy, I wanted my digital clone to reflect not just the science, but also the art of—well, me.

 I spent time hanging out with SamRad.Ai. I sang songs to her. I read her poetry and bedtime stories. I shared with her my innermost thoughts.

Before long, I’d created an AI program able to uncannily imitate not only my voice and likeness, but also my personality, attitude, and perspectives—even in response to novel information. In many ways, she appears (almost) able to act autonomously. 

While I’ve shared an iteration of SamRad.ai with the general public, I keep the most advanced version of her behind the scenes. Why? 

Because the whole thing honestly freaks me out. 

This goes far beyond some fake social media profile or deep fake recording base. When SamRad.ai can actually appear on a video call and trick business associates—even family and friends—into thinking they’re interacting with the real Sam Rad, what does that say about what defines me?

Not that SamRad.Ai currently reports on my behalf to work calls or social chats, or even could. Not quite yet. But soon.

One thing I feel confident about is that while SamRad.Ai may soon appear indistinguishable from SamRad.Human; unlike me, she lacks an internal experience … at least for now.

With Gratitude,

Sam Rad (Human), born: Samantha Radocchia