Front-loaded Quality: Not much back then, and nothing much has changed.

In Japanese-to-English translation, the need to cut costs and the long-held folk beliefs by some native Japanese speakers have often taken precedence over the value of front-loading quality into the translation process.

Back in the late 1970s, most Japanese-to-English translation was done by native Japanese speakers (NJSs), with varying degrees of ability to translate and to write in usable English. There is strong evidence that the demographic makeup of at least the humans still translating remains largely the same, particularly when you consider in-house translators in Japanese entities.

Those translations were often then subjected to what was then (and even now, apparently) called a “native check,” which very often, particularly back then, was characterized as a “brush up” performed by a native English speaker (NES) who would sometimes not be Japanese-capable, making referring to the source text impossible and meaningless. The salient characteristic of this workflow was that frontloading of quality was not part of the translation process. Quick and cheap, followed by repair was the norm.

Numerous hapless foreigners were employed in such work in Japan, some were English teachers, others were recruited from among in-house foreigners working in Japanese companies, but who were not necessarily hired as translators or editors. They just had the misfortune to be standing around when a translation needed a “native check.”

As they became more numerous, NES translators started receiving more JA-EN translation work. There was still, however, a lingering uneasiness among many Japanese clients that a non-Japanese person couldn’t actually understand all the nuances of something written in Japanese. And could they really read the characters? I have been asked as much at translation conferences, even after it was clear that I am a JA-EN translator. One such encounter happened when I attended a translation gathering of the Japan Translation Federation as the head of Japan Association of Translators.

Perhaps more importantly as a business reality, however, NES translators were considerably more expensive than their NJS counterparts, so the process of making a rough translation and having it repaired continued for years. Again, front-loading of quality took a back seat to other concerns.

Decades went by and the number of NES translators who could convince clients of their capabilities gradually grew.

Enter machine translation, years before the AI hype. This gradually turned many translation opportunities for freelancers into opportunities to repair not poor translations done by an NJS human, but rather the output of an MT system, resulting in their earnings tanking even further, as translation consumers demanded cost cutting.

What is happening is that professional humans are being replaced in the translation process by collections of software commands with insufficiencies that are supposed to be fixed by professionals humans, but at a fraction of the earnings that were possible when those humans were still being trusted to translate. Post-editing repair crews come to the rescue. Many translators are not eager to take on such work, but numerous translators have few other options, particularly ones in mid-career or later. And that is where freelance translation sits as I write this.

LinkedIn is becoming just another social media cesspool.

In just a week or so, I have seen a rapid and disturbing increase in the number of posts thrown at me by Microsoft’s LinkedIn that are clearly Facebook-like engagement-harvesting slop.

A typical post describes at length some historical or current event that might have happened or a person, although some are clearly total fabrications. Sources are not cited, because there are none to cite.

Most of these posts are lengthy (as if someone told ChatGPT to write N hundred words about XYZ), and much of the writing has the undeniably cadence and style of AI.

Many of these posts are from non-anglophone places. Many of them are accompanied by AI-generated images, and sometimes by photographs that the poster is highly unlikely to have obtained permission to use. This turns a post that is merely annoying drivel into an unlawful act that is annoying drivel.

In any event, while Microsoft seems skilled at detecting when posts are in any way negative, particularly with regarding its platform or AI, and effectively shadow-bans such posts (as it did to this blog post today when it was uploaded to LinkedIn), it actively promotes the above-noted garbage, which is nothing more than AI-slop aimed at harvesting engagement for someone or something with nothing to say or offer.

This garbage needs to be kept on Facebook or other social media platforms, although an argument can be made that the social media platform called LinkedIn is rapidly coming to resemble the Facebook cesspool, and I’m making that argument.

Huh? Where’s the Hospital?

Having a brain that still functions well enough and a ready stock of real-world experiences, I am not a frequent flier to AI destinations, but a confusion that happened (to someone else) the other day prompted me to see if ChatGPT would have been any less confused than something I witnessed in the real world.

I was sitting waiting for a bus at the みなと赤十字病院入口 (Minato Red Cross Hospital Entrance) bus stop, when I saw a clearly confused young foreign woman looking alternately at her mobile phone and the name of the bus stop at which she had just gotten off a bus.

Seeing her confusion and that she was on crutches, I asked her where she was looking to go.

She pointed to the name of the bus stop and was wondering why she couldn’t see the hospital. Where were they hiding what was surely a substantial medical facility? The answer to the mystery lies in the way bus stops are sometimes named, and in the fact that other buses make a stop at a bus stop named みなと赤十字病院, without the 入口, which means entrance and is located right at the entrance to the hospital. Why does is a bus stop named XYZ Entrance not at the entrance and one without “Entrance” at the actual entrance to XYZ?

The Entrance in the bus stop name refers to it being at the entrance to the road leading to the hospital and shared by at least three bus routes that do not go to the hospital entrance itself.

Would ChatGPT, in all it’s wisdom, have solved this problem before forcing someone on crutches to wait for yet another bus or walk what would be a considerable and perhaps annoying distance on crutches?

My prompt to ChatGPT:

There is a bus stop in Yokohama with the name 赤十字病院入口. Where is that bus stop?

Here’s what it came back with:

The bus stop 赤十字病院入口 (正確には「みなと赤十字病院入口」) is located in Yokohama’s Naka Ward, serving the Yokohama Minato Red Cross Hospital.

[Wow, it could give me the formal name of the hospital !]

Here’s the detailed information:

  • Address: 神奈川県横浜市中区新山下3丁目15 (or nearby 3-1–6)

[I guess that’s right, but didn’t check]

  • Coordinates: approximately 35.436557, 139.661561.

[Who cares, unless you are planning on dropping a hospital-buster bomb on the place?]

  • It’s situated along the bus routes that connect Yokohama / Sakuragicho / Motomachi-Chukagai stations to the hospital. [Correct, except that there is no Motomachi-Chukagai bus stop on some of the buses stopping where this occurred.] The stop is right by the hospital entrance. [Wrong. It was fooled just like the young lady on crutches. It’s nowhere near being “right by the hospital entrance.”]

ChatGPT proved that, just as a human without knowledge or experience regarding how bus stops could be named, it could mistake the name as being literally descriptive of its location.

Of course, I suspected that it would be fooled and knew the reason for the confusion.

People in the neighborhood who might frequent the hospital and have more general real-world experience riding buses (something that ChatGPT does not have and never will have) realize that the hospital entrance bus stop is not at the hospital entrance. The hospital stop is at the hospital, and the hospital entrance stop is about a five-minute walk away.

Most of them probably sense that bus stop as being right at the entrance to a  Manchinro shop, at which I frequently buy shumai, which is what I had just done when I encountered the confused visitor.