#probabilistic-learning

#probabilistic-learning

Pi is an infinitely long decimal number that never repeats. How do we know? Well, humans have calculated it to 314 trillion decimal places and didn't reach the end. At that point, I'm inclined to accept it. I mean, NASA uses only the first 15 decimal places for navigating spacecraft, and that's more than enough for earthly applications.

AI Mode can use your previous conversations, along with places you've searched for or tapped on in Search and Maps to deliver more relevant options, personalized to you. So if AI Mode infers that you have a preference for Italian food, plant-based meals, and places that have outdoor seating, you may get results suggesting options like these.

Sometimes the reason pi shows up in randomly generated values is obvious—if there are circles or angles involved, pi is your guy. But sometimes the circle is cleverly hidden, and sometimes the reason pi pops up is a mathematical mystery!

Generative AI is now incorporated into the workflow for many scholars across many disciplines, but the broader scientific community would benefit from taking stock of how this technology could truly benefit our work and how it might distract. We hope the symposium can provide clarity.

The Brain Science Here's where neuropsychology enters the vineyard. The human brain's relationship with wine is deeply emotional and multisensory. When we taste wine, our orbitofrontal cortex integrates sensory information with memory and emotion; it's why a particular bottle might remind us of our grandmother's kitchen or that study-abroad summer in Tuscany. This neural complexity is what makes wine special, and it's also what makes AI's role in the industry controversial.

A dyad has three parts, not two: Partner A, Partner B, and the relationship or agreements between them. A dyad of two experts who cannot communicate clearly will often lose to a dyad of less-skilled individuals who coordinate effectively.

Time pressure, limited information, confusion, fatigue, and mortality salience combine to set the stage for decision-making errors, sometimes with grave consequences. An example is the downing of Iran Air Flight 655 by a missile launched by the USS Vincennes in 1988, resulting in the death of 290 passengers and crew. In a time of heightened tension between the U.S. and Iran, the captain of the Vincennes misidentified the airliner as an incoming hostile aircraft and ordered his crew to shoot it down.

A traveler might search for a weekend getaway and still see travel ads weeks later, long after returning home. The data was right. The timing wasn't.AI-driven marketing has the potential to close that gap - but only if it understands context. Personalization built solely on identity or past behavior can reveal who someone is, but not when or why they're ready to act.As AI takes center stage in marketing strategy, context is emerging as the differentiator that turns reactive automation into predictive intelligence.

“fireball burning everything in its path”

I am a worrier, and have been for most of my life. At some point, someone dear and smart teased me that I worry about the wrong things. The things that hit me, she noted, were never the things I worried about. For a while that left me feeling like an incompetent worrier-until my research caught up. I realized that the things I worry about often don't end up hurting me precisely because worrying helps me diffuse them ahead of time.

When discussing their results, they tell us that Facebook's reporting or Google Analytics show the ad campaigns as barely breaking even. Yet they keep investing in this channel. They reason that Facebook can only see a fraction of the sales, so if Facebook is reporting a 1x return on ad spend (ROAS) then it's probably at least 2x in reality.

Every year, poor communication and siloed data bleed companies of productivity and profit. Research shows U.S. businesses lose up to $1.2 trillion annually to ineffective communication, that's about $12,506 per employee per year. This stems from breakdowns that waste an average of 7.47 hours per employee each week on miscommunications. The damage isn't only interpersonal; it's structural. Disconnected and fragmented data systems mean that employees spend around 12 hours per week just searching for information trapped in those silos.

By comparing how AI models and humans map these words to numerical percentages, we uncovered significant gaps between humans and large language models. While the models do tend to agree with humans on extremes like 'impossible,' they diverge sharply on hedge words like 'maybe.' For example, a model might use the word 'likely' to represent an 80% probability, while a human reader assumes it means closer to 65%.

Since AlexNet5, deep learning has replaced heuristic hand-crafted features by unifying feature learning with deep neural networks. Later, Transformers6 and GPT-3 (ref. 1) further advanced sequence learning at scale, unifying structured tasks such as natural language processing. However, multimodal learning, spanning modalities such as images, video and text, has remained fragmented, relying on separate diffusion-based generation or compositional vision-language pipelines with many hand-crafted designs.

The title "data scientist" is quietly disappearing from job postings, internal org charts, and LinkedIn headlines. In its place, roles like "AI engineer," "applied AI engineer," and "machine learning engineer" are becoming the norm. This Data Scientist vs AI Engineer shift raises an important question for practitioners and leaders alike: what actually changes when a data scientist becomes an AI engineer, and what stays the same? More importantly, what skills matter if you want to make this transition intentionally rather than by accident?

What happens under the hood? How is the search engine able to take that simple query, look for images in the billions, trillions of images that are available online? How is it able to find this one or similar photos from all that? Usually, there is an embedding model that is doing this work behind the hood.

Each of these achievements would have been a remarkable breakthrough on its own. Solving them all with a single technique is like discovering a master key that unlocks every door at once. Why now? Three pieces converged: algorithms, computing power, and massive amounts of data. We can even put faces to them, because behind each element is a person who took a gamble.

For the past three years, the conversation around artificial intelligence has been dominated by a single, anxious question: What will be left for us to do? As large language models began writing code, drafting legal briefs, and composing poetry, the prevailing assumption was that human cognitive labor was being commoditized. We braced for a world where thinking was outsourced to the cloud, rendering our hard-won mental skills, writing, logic, and structural reasoning relics of a pre-automated past.

To live in time is to wonder what will happen next. In every human society, there are people who obsess over the world's patterns to predict the future. In antiquity, they told kings which stars would appear at nightfall. Today they build the quantitative models that nudge governments into opening spigots of capital. They pick winners on Wall Street. They estimate the likelihood of earthquakes for insurance companies. They tell commodities traders at hedge funds about the next month's weather.