Prologue

Sometimes the most interesting conversations happen quietly —

in a few lines of email exchanged across decades of technological change.

Recently, I had such an exchange with ”A. Michael Noll”, a pioneer of computer art and an early researcher at ”Bell Labs".

Early Computer Art

In the 1960s, Noll conducted experiments that today might be described as early generative art.

One of his well-known studies compared a computer-generated composition with a painting by "Piet Mondrian", asking viewers whether they could distinguish the machine-generated work from the human one.

This was decades before the current wave of generative AI.

Even then, questions were already emerging about machines, creativity, and perception.

Complexity and Control

In his message, Noll recalled concerns from the early 1970s.

Engineers were already asking a fundamental question:

How do we ensure that a computer program does only what it is supposed to do?

Today our systems are vastly more complex. Artificial intelligence operates across global infrastructures of data centers and networks.

Yet the question remains remarkably familiar.

Complexity has grown.

But control remains uncertain.

An Unexpected Turn: Cats

At some point in the exchange, the conversation shifted in an unexpected direction.

Cats.

Noll noted that Japan appears to have a special affection for them. Television programs regularly feature cats, and there are even small islands where cats outnumber humans.

Many of the animals are known individually by name.

The remark reminded me of a literary echo from more than a century ago.

In 1905, the Japanese writer "Natsume Sōseki" published "I Am a Cat", a novel narrated by a cat observing the curious behavior of humans.

“I am a cat. As yet I have no name.”

From that quiet opening, the cat proceeds to watch human society with calm curiosity.

Their ambitions.

Their arguments.

Their tendency to complicate the world.

The Observer

Much has changed since that book was written.

Artificial intelligence now generates language and images. Massive data centers store and process unimaginable volumes of information. Increasingly complex systems mediate everyday life.

And yet something remains quietly unchanged.

A cat is still a cat.

It has not been optimized, digitized, or upgraded.

It does not attempt to simulate intelligence or explain the world.

It simply observes.

Perhaps that position — slightly outside the system — is where certain insights become visible.

Many of the technologies we build today attempt to imitate human intelligence as closely as possible.

But sometimes the most interesting perspective comes from something that does not try to be human at all.

Cats have always occupied that position.

They watch us carefully, yet they never fully enter the systems we build.

A Short Reply

After I shared these thoughts, Professor Noll replied with a brief message.

"Yes, wise observations!"

Sometimes a short response says enough.

Epilogue

Technology continues to evolve.

Systems grow larger.

Models grow more capable.

Networks grow more complex.

And somewhere nearby, a cat is still sitting quietly.

Watching.

© SHIRO & Co.

First published: 2026-03-10