The two-story library has oriental rugs, shaded lamps dotting its desks, and rows of hardback books lining its walls. It’s the architectural centerpiece of the offices of OpenAI, the startup whose online chatbot, ChatGPT, showed the world that machines can instantly generate their own poetry and prose.
The building, which was once a mayonnaise factory, resembles a typical tech office, with its shared workspaces, well-stocked micro-kitchens and private nap rooms spread over three floors in San Francisco’s Mission District.
But there is also this library, with the atmosphere of a Victorian reading room. Its shelves offer everything from Homer’s “The Iliad” to David Deutsch’s “The Beginning of Infinity,” a favorite of Sam Altman, OpenAI’s chief executive.
Built at Mr. Altman’s request and featuring titles suggested by his team, the OpenAI library is an apt metaphor for the world’s hottest technology company, whose success has been fueled by language — lots and lots of language. OpenAI’s chatbot wasn’t designed like your average Internet application. ChatGPT acquired its skills by analyzing massive amounts of human-written, edited, and curated text, including encyclopedia articles, news reports, poetry, and, of course, books.
The library also represents the paradox at the heart of OpenAI technology. Authors and publishers including The New York Times are using OpenAI, claiming the company illegally used their copyrighted content to build their AI systems. Many fear that technology will eventually take away their livelihoods.
Many OpenAI employees, on the other hand, believe the company uses human creativity to fuel more human creativity. They believe that their use of copyrighted works constitutes “fair use” within the meaning of the law, because they are transforming those works into something new.
“To say this is a public debate right now is an understatement,” said Shannon Gaffney, co-founder and managing partner of SkB Architects, the architectural firm that renovated OpenAI’s headquarters and designed its library. “Even though things seem to be going in different directions, the library is a constant reminder of human creativity. »
When OpenAI hired Ms. Gaffney’s company to renovate the building in 2019, Mr. Altman said he wanted a library with an academic aura.
He wanted it to be a reminder of the Green Library, a novel library at Stanford University, where he studied for two years before dropping out to create a social media app; the Rose Reading Room, a Fine Arts study room located on the top floor of the New York Public Library in Midtown Manhattan; and the library-like bar inside the now-defunct Nomad Hotel, 15 blocks south of the Rose.
“My dining room and living room at home are inside a library — floor-to-ceiling books all around,” Mr. Altman said in an interview. “There is something interesting about sitting among knowledge on large-scale shelves. »
Many titles, like “English Masterpieces, 700-1900” and “Ideas and Images in World Art,” resemble heavy hardback books that professional decorators place strategically in hotel lobbies because they are up to it. Yet the library is a reflection of the organization that built it.
On a recent afternoon, two paperback books sat next to each other at eye level: “Birds of Lake Merritt.” (a field guide to birds found at a wildlife refuge in Oakland, California.) and “Fake Birds of Lake Merritt” (a parody written by GPT-3, an early version of the technology that drives ChatGPT).
Some employees find the library a quieter place to work. AI researcher Long Ouyang holds a rolling desk against the wall. Others see it as an unusually elegant rest room. On weekends, Ryan Greene, another researcher, plays his digital music through the speakers tucked among the hardback books.
It is, according to other employees, a much more inspiring workplace than an office. “That’s why so many people choose to work at the library,” Ms. Staudacher said.
Recently, Mr. Greene began populating ChatGPT with lists of his favorite books and asking for new recommendations. At one point, the chatbot recommended “The Book of Disquiet”,” a posthumously published autobiography of the Portuguese writer Fernando Pessoa. A friend, who knew his tastes well, recommended that he read the same book.
“Given trends and patterns that have happened in the past, technology can suggest things for the future,” Mr. Greene said.
Ms Gaffney, of architecture firm OpenAI, argued that this blending of human and machine would continue. Then she paused, before adding: “At least that’s what I hope and what I feel. »
