Helen of Troy may have had the face that launched a thousand ships, but even the best facial recognition algorithms may have had trouble finding her face in a crowd of one million strangers. The first benchmark test based on one million faces has shown how facial recognition algorithms from Google and other research groups around the world can still fall short in accurately identifying and verifying faces.
Facial recognition algorithms that had previously performed with more than 95 percent accuracy on a popular benchmark test involving 13,000 faces saw significant drops in accuracy when faced with the new MegaFace Challenge involving one million faces. The best performer on one test, Google’s FaceNet algorithm, dropped from near-perfect accuracy on five-figure datasets to 75 percent on the million-face test. Other top algorithms dropped from above 90-percent accuracy on the small datasets to below 60 percent on the MegaFace Challenge. Some algorithms made the proper identification as seldom as 35 percent of the time.
“Megaface's key idea is that algorithms should be evaluated at large scale,” says Ira Kemelmacher-Shlizerman, an assistant professor of computer science at the University of Washington in Seattle and the project’s principal investigator. “And we make a number of discoveries that are only possible when evaluating at scale.”
The United States will rush to make high-frequency spectrum bands available for emerging 5G technologies, promised Tom Wheeler, Chairman of the Federal Communications Commission, in an address on Monday. Wheeler said he will share his plan for opening these bands on Thursday, with an official FCC vote scheduled for 14 July.
Hundreds of dead sea turtles wash up on the shores of Chesapeake Bay each year. Strangely, these events known as strandings seem to occur more often along certain stretches of shoreline. But even while so many turtles wind up in these spots, no one knows exactly where they’re coming from or how most of them died.
To try to figure it out, a master’s student is setting a handful of GPS-equipped turtle carcasses afloat in Chesapeake Bay this summer. Bianca Santos, a graduate student at William and Mary’s School of Marine Science at the Virginia Institute of Marine Science, released two so-called “drifters” from a boat last week and hopes to launch up to 10 this season.
She hopes that by tracking how the carcasses are pushed along by wind and ocean currents, she can figure out where those hundreds of beached turtles floated in from, and whether some spots in the ocean might prove more deadly to turtles than others.
Unlike the Tianhe-2, which used Intel Xeon chips to take the top spot, the processors inside the Sunway TaihuLight are homegrown. At each of the machine’s 40,960 nodes, the supercomputer uses a new 260-core chip, designed by the Shanghai High Performance IC Design Center.
According to the Top500 site, Sunway TaihuLight will be used for research and engineering work, including weather modeling and advanced manufacturing.
Although supercomputing progress has slowed in recent years, there are still-more-powerful machines on the horizon. The United States, for one, has a batch of new machines in the works. According to a report on Sunway TaihuLight by Top500 team member Jack Dongarra, 2018 could see the arrival of three new U.S. Department of Energy machines, the speediest of which will be Summit, a 200-petaflop supercomputer to be installed at Oak Ridge National Laboratory in Tennessee.
The top 10 supercomputers from the June 2016 Top500.org list.
In the world of cryptocurrency, seven-figure heists are a rite of passage. And today, Ethereum, a much-hyped blockchain currency and autonomous software platform, has come of age. This morning, participants in a lavishly-funded investment vehicle called The DAO woke up to an onslaught of alarm bells when it was discovered that a hacker had utilized a vulnerability in the code to drain the fund.
At 4 a.m., Griff Green, a developer for Slock.it, a company based in Germany that is building on the Ethereum blockchain and created The DAO, sent out this alert on the community’s Slack channel:
“The DAO is being attacked. It has been going on for 3-4 hours, it is draining ETH at a rapid rate. This is not a drill.”
By midday, the attacker had stolen over 3 million Ether (Ethereum’s native currency), which at the time was worth more than 60 million U.S. dollars.
The DAO is a public investment fund that exists as a bundle of software on the Ethereum network. In a sale this spring, participants signed up for the fund by using their Ether to buy DAO tokens. This, in turn, gave them proportional ownership as well as the right to vote on investment proposals. The DAO software was intended to autonomously coordinate and enforce voting and fund allocation, thereby creating an investment vehicle that could operate without third-parties. The sale was much more successful than anyone expected, and by the end of May, Ether holders had dumped more than $150 million worth of their cryotocurrency into The DAO.
A day before the fund opened for business, a group of researchers identified critical flaws and biases in the process whereby participants vote on spending proposals. There was an appeal for a moratorium until fixes could be made, but today’s losses were caused by a bug that had gone unnoticed until now.
The DAO software gives token holders the ability to take their contributions and split from the larger group into their own identical DAOs. Once the split occurs, the person who created the new DAO has full control over what happens to the tokens, and after 27 days he or she is free to sell the tokens on an exchange to recoup the investment. People who choose this route should be able to leave with only as many tokens as they rightfully own. But late last night, someone found a way to split off with more than their fair share. According to sources, the hacker who did this now controls a satellite DAO that contains 100 times the amount of tokens that he initially invested.
Already, Ethereum developers are proposing ways to fix the situation. The easiest, and least controversial solution is for the network to adopt a new version of the Ethereum software that blacklists the address holding the hacker’s stolen funds, making it impossible for him to cash out on the heist.
But this would do nothing to recoup the losses sustained by The DAO. In order to return the funds back to their rightful owners, the Ethereum community would have to agree to a radical maneuver called a “hard fork” which would essentially roll back Ethereum’s historical record of transactions to a point in time before the heist occurred. This option will inevitably inspire heated debate as it calls into question the immutability of the Ethereum blockchain, which is one of the defining characteristics of the technology.
There is no telling yet whether The DAO will survive this hack. But the theft has undeniably harmed the reputation of decentralized financial instruments and the Ethereum project in general. Since Ethereum went live in the spring of 2015, developers have rushed to build autonomously functioning services on the platform. It is now becoming apparent that properly implementing these applications requires expertise in both coding and game theory.
When contracts are not properly vetted, we now know that it is not only the people using that particular application that suffer. The plaform as a whole also takes a hit. In the hours following the heist, the price of Ether has dropped by over 30 percent on online exchanges.
Despite what the old saying purports, there are new things under the sun. And they get all the press. All too often the old stuff gets short shrift—particularly if it’s under the earth.
Yesterday, at Manhattan’s Grand Central Terminal, attention was paid to the old in an IEEE Milestone ceremony commemorating the electrification of its rail traffic (much of it underground, even then) in 1913. Present at the unveiling of the plaque was John L. Sprague, grandson of Frank J. Sprague, a chief consultant on the project. The elder Sprague was already famous for electrifying the trolleys of Richmond, Va., in the 1880s.
The electrification project got its start in 1902, when a train engineer, temporarily blinded by smoke from a locomotive’s stack, drove his train into another one, killing 15 people. As a result, the New York State Legislature banned steam-powered locomotives from entering the city after 1908, leaving engineers no alternative to electricity.
In 1903, plans were drawn up, money was appropriated, and train tracks—many already conveniently sited below grade—were encased in tunnels and covered in earth and greenery. The result was what is now known as Park Avenue. The contrast with its smoke-besmirched past jacked up real estate prices—including the associated “air rights,” the sale of which helped to fund the project.
Grand Central was fully operational by 1913, about 11 years after the idea had been proposed. (People worked faster then, didn’t they?) For a stark contrast, look no further than New York City’s Second Avenue subway line, whose first 3-kilometer stretch is supposed to open any day now—about 10 years after workers broke ground.
What’s most striking about the train propulsion technology introduced back then is how little it has changed over the past century. At the plaque-unveiling ceremony, a rusty old segment of the famed, current-carrying third rail was juxtaposed with a new version, and the only visible difference is in the shinier, more conductive alloy. The shape is as Frank Sprague and his colleague William Wilgus described in their patent; the design allows the train’s “shoe” to complete the circuit by touching the rail from underneath. That way, snow and rain can’t easily interfere.
Now is a good time to put up a plaque. Grand Central Terminal is in the midst of a US $210 million facelift, and every bolt is being polished and every slab is being refurbished. Vanderbilt Hall, where the plaque was unveiled, is a marble vault with stately chandeliers and three-story windows worthy of a cathedral. It’s all very old-timey—as is the technology itself.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Most technology never dies, and much of it doesn’t even fade away. Instead it continues, right alongside all the newfangled stuff. In his 2006 book, The Shock of the Old: Technology and Global History Since 1900, British historian David Edgerton argues that seemingly futuristic inventions often become museum pieces (think Concorde) while some old standbys just keep on going (think the B-52).
Nothing has come along to shove electric light rail technology aside, and it’s not for lack of trying. Just ask Elon Musk!
The FBI needs to update its investigative toolkit and embrace the 21st century, a provocative editorial in this week’s Science magazine argues. The Bureau’s recent squabble with Apple over unlocking a terrorist’s iPhone only underscores the magnitude of the problem, the editorial writer argues.
In February, the FBI took Apple to court to force the smartphone maker to override the password protection of an iPhone 5C that’d been used by one of the shooters in December’s San Bernadino terrorist attack. Apple held out, saying that caving in would set a dangerous precedent. As both Apple and legal analysts at the time argued, Apple would then have had little recourse but to bow to similar future demands by law enforcement — and repressive governments overseas.
Counterterrorism units and law enforcement agencies have struggled to fight back against these new virtual tactics. Now, computer scientists led by Stefan Wuchty at University of Miami have released the first formal survey of how pro-ISIS online groups behave. In particular, their work identifies three popular strategies many groups have used to evade censorship in social media networks. They published their work in Science on Thursday.
We're incredibly excited for the near future of immersive virtual reality, which will let you explore worlds real and imaginary without having to leave the house or even put on clothes. Lack of clothes will come in especially handy, since a not insignificant percentage of VR users messily end up in pukesville. The disconnect between what your vision is telling you and what the rest of your (sedentary) body isn't can be disconcerting at best, and at worse, can lead to nausea, cold sweats, tossed cookies, and a desire to never try VR ever again. I speak from (bad) experience.
Driving to the small public Internet center in Semenyih, Malaysia from nearby Cyberjaya is to pass from one side of the digital divide to the other. Cyberjaya was carved out of a palm oil plantation in 1997 to become Malaysia’s first “cybercity.” It forms the heart of the nation’s “Multimedia Super Corridor,” a special economic zone for high-tech businesses. Just 32 kilometers (20 miles) away in the agricultural town of Semenyih, students have laptops but no Internet in their classrooms.
As Malaysia stretches to place itself among the world’s global economic leaders, its citizens straddle broad digital extremes. At both ends, the federal government is carefully orchestrating an ambitious plan for digital growth. Since 2010, Malaysia’s leaders have invested heavily in technology, among other sectors, to land itself in the elite upper echelon of global economies.
Though it’s grabbed fewer headlines than Cyberjaya, a massive public Internet project led by the Malaysian Communications and Multimedia Commission is a key part of this strategy. Quietly, the government has installed 674 public Internet centers since 2007 and plans to finish another 165 by the end of this year.
This network is branded as 1Malaysia Internet Centres to coincide with a nationwide campaign of unity. Each center has 20 computers. The government provides the facility and pays service providers to install equipment, hire managers, and bring it online.
In Semenyih, the center operates from a modest one-story building next to those Internet-less local schools. Guests remove their shoes at the door, where rules including “No gambling” and “No pornography” are clearly posted. During a visit last week, two women wearing hijabs leaned close and laughed at a shared terminal along one side of a brightly colored room. Atop stools against the opposite wall, two young boys in headphones clicked through YouTube videos.
Policymakers see places like Semenyih as an opportunity to improve digital literacy and expand homegrown industries. The government offers free training for entrepreneurs on weekends. Anwar Bin Masood, a manager at the Semenyih center, says local women who weave baskets, mats, and jewelry have begun to sell their wares online.
Students and seniors receive one free hour of access each day, while others pay a small fee to log on. If they become members, the service is cheaper. So far, 475 of the 2,300 people who live in Semenyih have signed up since it opened in 2014. About 65 percent of the people who log on are students. The oldest member is 68 years old.
To further improve access, MCMC has developed a second program called WiFi Komuniti to distribute the Internet from each center to the surrounding community. The agency uses a hub-and-spoke model to transmit Wi-Fi around the clock to a few sites within 5 kilometers of a center, which in turn re-broadcast it to homes within a 250-meter range.
In Semenyih, one of these access points (which is basically three routers strapped to a pole) is erected just outside an open-air cafe littered with plastic chairs for surfers to linger. A signature blue sign designates it as part of an official Pusat Internet 1Malaysia (or PI1M), or 1Malaysia Internet Center in Malay.
Both projects are continually revised as leaders figure out how to best serve their many new users. Coordinators recently reduced the number of spokes in the WiFi Komuniti model from five to three, to boost data speeds from 2 Mbps to 4 Mbps. Meanwhile, users at the hubs enjoy 8 Mbps speeds, and that bandwidth is re-allocated to the spokes once the centers close each night.
There are some persistent challenges. Malaysia’s lush vegetation and incessant rain absorb radio signals and generates greater than normal losses, says Siva Karan of local service provider Maxis. The company works around this by caching some websites on a local server and keeping Wi-Fi access points, Internet centers, and microwave towers that provide service within easy sight of each other.
Another major obstacle MCMC has faced is securing a reliable power supply for centers in remote areas. Also, maintenance is a high hurdle. There are 98 centers in the largely wild state of Sarawak on Borneo, more than in any other state; rotating the computers and printers there through quarterly maintenance checks is expensive.
Still, residents have welcomed the centers, and the MCMC office fields many requests from community members who want one in their town. “We can say that the 1Malaysia Centers are the one most successful project ever implemented in MCMC,” Nor Azhar Hassan, head of the infrastructure division, says.
Despite their popularity, the centers were never meant to be a permanent solution to the lack of connectivity in places such as Semenyih. MCMC hopes the projects will encourage more people to sign up for service to their homes, and persuade companies to expand infrastructure there.
“At the moment, we think of the Internet centers as a change agent,” Hassan says. “This is not meant to be a total solution.” To achieve those long-term goals, the government has built 1,000 towers and industry has installed 10,000 since 2010. Another 700 are in progress.
Hassan and his colleagues share anecdotes about the positive impact Malaysia’s Internet centers have had on residents. However, Araba Sey, a researcher at the University of Washington’s Information School, says it’s difficult to assess what, if any, boost public Internet centers such as these actually bring to communities or countries. “The question of social and economic impact is still up in the air,” she says.
In Semenyih, the most common online activity is checking social media. That’s meaningful to users, of course, but might not further Malaysia’s economic goals as much as its funders had hoped.
This quandary has run aground similar projects in other countries, which Sey says inevitably lose public funding and can’t garner enough commercial support to stay afloat. Malaysia’s Internet centers are currently funded through the nation’s Universal Service Provision until 2020.
“We shouldn’t be looking for these short term and very direct impacts,” Sey says. “You can't prescribe what specifically will happen and how it will happen and when it will happen. If you’re trying to do that, you’re missing the point.”
Back in the pair of matching towers that now house the MCMC offices inCyberjaya, Zefe Fazilah, a deputy director for project coordination, says the strategy is working from their perspective. (The agency was unable to provide an estimate for the total cost of the public Internet initiative to date.)
They’ve heard from dozens of entrepreneurs who have expanded their reach through the centers, including one seaweed farmer who went from making RM400 to RM20,000 a month. Industry partners also seem enthused by the demand the project has drummed up in remote corners of the country.
Darrell West, director of the Center for Technology Innovation at Brookings Institution, believes Malaysia will eventually realize the benefits it seeks from its investment. He says the economic case for Internet access has been demonstrated in fishing villages and agricultural regions around the globe.
Nearby to MCMC, construction teams busily convert a vast tract of land the size of 120 football fields to “CCC” or Cyberjaya City Center. Once complete, the RM11 billion project will feature wireless sensors for virtually every possible purpose, including a “social noise meter.” One way or another, Malaysia remains determined to forge its digital destiny.
IEEE Spectrum’s general technology blog, featuring news, analysis, and opinions about engineering, consumer electronics, and technology and society, from the editorial staff and freelance contributors.