The project was set into full operation.
The main laboratory was located in the Urban Traffic Research Center on the fourth floor of MIT Media Lab E14 (East Building 14).
Dean Whitman was the executive director, and Deputy Director Allen was the co-director.
Seoha was placed in charge of research for this enormous project.
Late in the afternoon, sunlight flowed into the lab along the river. In a conference room enclosed in transparent glass, personnel from MIT, Harvard, and the Boston Transportation Department sat in a semicircle.
Click.
When Seoha connected his laptop to the docking station, the 180-degree curved screen on the wall lit up, displaying the entire road network of the city of Boston.
“Good. Let’s begin.”
Dean Whitman announced the start of the meeting with a gentle smile.
“As you all know, today marks the official launch of the ‘Boston Adaptive Signal Project.’ This project is the first attempt to bring mathematics, urban engineering, artificial intelligence, and policy studies together in one place.
Since researchers and politicians not only in Boston but around the world are watching, I hope each of you will demonstrate one hundred percent of your abilities.”
Whitman looked around.
After meeting with “a professor he knew,” Mayor Patrick had given Allen one condition.
This project could not be carried out by MIT alone.
The impression that a single university was taking charge of an entire city’s transportation network was politically dangerous.
While acknowledging MIT’s technological superiority, he had strongly insisted that Harvard participate in the research for the sake of balance and transparency.
MIT had objected, but they could not overcome the justification that “wouldn’t it be good for America’s two greatest centers of intellect to collaborate on something beneficial to citizens?”
If the city had not at least guaranteed MIT’s stake, the research would have fallen through entirely.
“Then let’s begin with introductions from the Harvard researchers.”
At Whitman’s words, a woman seated on the left rose from her seat.
A black tailored jacket, neatly tied blond hair, cold-looking blue eyes. She seemed like the very image of Harvard given human form.
“I’m Sophie Adler from the Harvard Kennedy School.
For this project, I will be in charge of social acceptance and policy ethics.”
At the word “ethics,” the researchers furrowed their brows.
Technology and ethics had never gotten along. And neither had Harvard and MIT.
Sophie was accustomed to receiving such looks from researchers, and continued speaking calmly.
“As a policy ethicist, my role is to analyze how the algorithms we create will operate in citizens’ daily lives, whom they will affect, and what responsibilities they will leave behind.
I look forward to working with you.”
Clap, clap, clap.
After the halfhearted applause, the next researcher stood.
A thin man with a fastidious impression.
“I’m Michael Kelman from the Harvard Data Science Lab.
I will be in charge of anonymizing citizen data, restricting pedestrian identification, and conducting AI ethics audits.”
Silence fell.
When Whitman looked at Allen, Allen awkwardly averted his gaze. There was nothing he could do about it either.
“What will you do if unethical conduct takes place during the research? That could destroy me.”
He, too, fully understood Mayor Patrick’s concerns.
Whitman gestured toward the people seated on the other side.
“Now, the people from the Transportation Department, please introduce yourselves as well.”
A middle-aged man in a leather jacket rose from his seat.
Broad shoulders, rough hands; his appearance was steeped in the feel of the field.
“I’m Tom Riley from the Boston Transportation Department.
There isn’t a signal system in this city that hasn’t passed through my hands. Our team will be in charge of integrating the actual traffic lights and sensor networks, as well as field testing.”
Seoha smiled.
Seoha felt respect for field-type people like that. People who touched things with their own hands and actually repaired broken systems.
It was a romance every man had.
In addition to them, MIT data engineers, city government technical personnel, and intern assistants dispatched from several universities were also quietly filling the room, each with their laptops and notes.
Whitman gave Seoha a look.
“Finally, let me introduce Yu Seoha from MIT’s Department of Mathematics, who will be serving as the research lead for this project.”
Everyone’s gaze turned to Seoha at once.
Seoha smiled awkwardly and rose from his seat.
“In this project, I will be in charge of designing the mathematical structure and the autonomous adjustment algorithm for the signal system. I look forward to working with you.”
Seoha bowed his head.
The researchers applauded, but they did not hide their unease.
‘He’s too young, isn’t he?’
‘Is it really all right to entrust the research lead role to that kid?’
‘I heard he was outstanding, but still…’
The researchers from city hall and Harvard shifted their eyes.
In the end, Michael Kelman, the AI expert, was the first to raise his hand.
“I read your paper carefully. But reality is not a simulation. Actual data is far more incomplete and nonlinear.
For example, pedestrian density does not change periodically over time.
There are various variables, such as the start of the semester for students, weather, stadium events, and construction schedules. Can you really explain all of that with a single function?”
Whitman furrowed his brow.
Based on his long experience, projects that gave off this sort of atmosphere from the very first meeting rarely succeeded.
An engineer from city hall raised his hand right after him.
“I think the same.
In the paper, you approximated traffic volume data using a Gaussian process. But in actual traffic data, the amount of noise is overwhelming.
Especially in vehicle tracking data based on GPS coordinates, signal loss, delay, and correction errors accumulate endlessly.
The ‘phase alignment’ you speak of is a structure that depends on average values, isn’t it? At this level, the phase values themselves could become unstable.”
They had gathered for a project to find answers, yet they were merely reciting problems everyone already knew. It was not a sensible thing to do.
Whitman’s face flushed with anger.
The expressions of the MIT researchers were not bright either.
Coming out like this from the start was clearly an attempt to seize the initiative early.
Nominally, it was a joint research project, but the design and core technology of this project had all come from MIT.
‘Are they trying to shake our technical leadership?’
They were probably planning to point out problems, then later demand a share on the pretext that they had found solutions together.
Just as Whitman was about to snap at them not to pull any petty tricks, he looked to the side and saw Seoha’s eyes sparkling.
Seoha answered happily.
“So you were all thinking the same thing!”
His voice genuinely welcomed the questions.
“Pardon?”
“Ah… no, I mean, from now on…”
The two people who had tried to nitpick stammered, unable to understand the situation.
“That was the part I was most looking forward to in this project too.
The model in my paper couldn’t reflect an actual traffic network. But now we can put in the real thing. I don’t intend to eliminate the errors. I’m going to view them as patterns and find the recurring structures…”
Seoha looked around.
Whitman quickly read what Seoha wanted.
“Bring the board!”
At his lion-like roar, the researchers in the room flinched.
Ellie and Jason, who had been sitting in the back corner with sleepy expressions, jumped to their feet. As assistants, the two had prepared the supplies needed for this meeting.
After the meeting began, they had only been crouching in the corner taking notes, but now the dean’s thunderous order had fallen.
“Y-yes!”
Jason hurriedly dragged in the whiteboard that had been pushed into the next room.
Rrrrrumble—
The large wheels rolled across the conference room floor with a scraping sound.
Ellie went around the room, sweeping up markers by color.
Whitman handed Seoha a marker.
“Seoha! Explain it so they can understand. Kindly.”
Whitman grinned.
“Yes!”
Seoha nodded with an expectant expression.
Watching the scene, Co-director Allen pressed a hand to his forehead.
Whitman glared at them.
“You had better listen carefully. If you cannot understand even when an answer is given to you, then you have no reason to be here, do you?”
Gulp.
Under Whitman’s chilling gaze, the two researchers straightened their backs in tension.
Scratch, scratch.
Seoha’s marker moved briskly across the board.
Complicated symbols connected, and curves and graphs appeared. Before long, equations filled the entire board.
At Seoha’s fingertips, Boston’s road network was born as one vast equation.
“This is the phase equation of this city.”
The researchers stepped closer to understand the formula.
They widened their eyes and examined the board, but for those who had not studied Seoha’s theory in depth, there were far too many difficult parts.
To begin with, this was an equation so complex that even Allen, a giant in the field, had needed an entire day to fully grasp it.
Seoha drew a curve with the marker.
“Phase isn’t the absolute value of traffic volume, but the relative timing of when each intersection will make its next decision.”
Seoha wrote down another equation and graph.
“This axis is the rate of change in traffic volume. In other words, the algorithm reads the stress of each section through how quickly or slowly it changes.
And when this rate of change is converted into phase, every node in the city sways like one enormous wave. I call this ‘phase alignment.’”
At some point, the outside researchers could no longer keep up with Seoha’s explanation. Unaware of this, Seoha excitedly continued.
“The Transportation Department opened the line for me yesterday, so I looked over the data, and I got a few ideas from it.”
‘More than this?’
‘In just one day?’
‘I think we poked the wrong thing.’
The faces of the outside researchers turned pale.
As if it were nothing, Seoha put down the marker he had used up, picked up a new one, and uncapped it.
“The existing algorithm only arranged traffic flow in chronological order, but in reality, the reaction comes first. I applied the propagation speed of that decision-making to the algorithm.”
When he drew with the blue marker, a new curve appeared beside the existing graph.
The existing smooth wave line maintained a steady rhythm, but the new curve was far more complex.
The air in the lab sank heavily.
Scratch, scratch.
Seoha’s marker showed no sign of stopping.
Michael, his mouth hanging open, wrote something on a piece of paper, then crumpled it up a few seconds later. The city hall engineer who had asked the question also had a dazed expression before he knew it.
Whitman stepped forward as he watched them.
“To answer sincerely until the questioner understands—that is the virtue MIT has upheld.
Kids, lock the doors.”
MIT interns and researchers desperately held back their laughter as they blocked the door.
“It makes no sense for the core members of the project not to understand the core algorithm.”
The Transportation Department employees glared reproachfully at the engineer who had asked the question.
Harvard’s situation was not much different.
“Seoha?”
“Yes!”
“I think your explanation is still insufficient.”
Seoha nodded with a resolute expression.
The MIT researchers were nearly passing out from holding in their laughter.
Two hours passed.
The board had already been changed several times, and marker caps and worn-out pens were scattered across the floor.
Seoha was still overflowing with enthusiasm.
Whitman sipped his coffee, the corners of his mouth twitching.
‘He’s completely immersed right now.’
Things like seizing the initiative or fighting for leadership had probably never existed in his head to begin with.
How to perfectly improve his own algorithm—Seoha was thinking only about that.
The outside engineers, who had initially taken Seoha’s explanation as an unpleasant counterattack, gradually became influenced by his passion.
At some point, they too began actively exchanging opinions and participating in the discussion.
‘Though it doesn’t seem to be true for all of them…’
There still seemed to be quite a few people who did not understand the algorithm.
Whitman smiled.
‘How dare they!’
He set down his coffee cup and muttered inwardly.
From next time on, they would show Seoha the courtesy befitting the research lead.