Generative artificial intelligence is transforming the ways humans write, read, speak, think, empathize, and act within and across languages and cultures. In health care, gaps in communication between patients and practitioners can worsen patient outcomes and prevent improvements in practice and care. The Language/AI Incubator, made possible through funding from the MIT Human Insight Collaborative (MITHIC), offers a potential response to these challenges. 

The project envisions a research community rooted in the humanities that will foster interdisciplinary collaboration across MIT to deepen understanding of generative AI’s impact on cross-linguistic and cross-cultural communication. The project’s focus on health care and communication seeks to build bridges across socioeconomic, cultural, and linguistic strata.

The incubator is co-led by Leo Celi, a physician and the research director and senior research scientist with the Institute for Medical Engineering and Science (IMES), and Per Urlaub, professor of the practice in German and second language studies and director of MIT’s Global Languages program. 

“The basis of health care delivery is the knowledge of health and disease,” Celi says. “We’re seeing poor outcomes despite massive investments because our knowledge system is broken.”

A chance collaboration

Urlaub and Celi met during a MITHIC launch event. Conversations during the event reception revealed a shared interest in exploring improvements in medical communication and practice with AI.

“We’re trying to incorporate data science into health-care delivery,” Celi says. “We’ve been recruiting social scientists [at IMES] to help advance our work, because the science we create isn’t neutral.”

Language is a non-neutral mediator in health care delivery, the team believes, and can be a boon or barrier to effective treatment. “Later, after we met, I joined one of his working groups whose focus was metaphors for pain: the language we use to describe it and its measurement,” Urlaub continues. “One of the questions we considered was how effective communication can occur between doctors and patients.”

Technology, they argue, impacts casual communication, and its impact depends on both users and creators. As AI and large language models (LLMs) gain power and prominence, their use is broadening to include fields like health care and wellness. 

Rodrigo Gameiro, a physician and researcher with MIT’s Laboratory for Computational Physiology, is another program participant. He notes that work at the laboratory centers responsible AI development and implementation. Designing systems that leverage AI effectively, particularly when considering challenges related to communicating across linguistic and cultural divides that can occur in health care, demands a nuanced approach. 

“When we build AI systems that interact with human language, we’re not just teaching machines how to process words; we’re teaching them to navigate the complex web of meaning embedded in language,” Gameiro says.

Language’s complexities can impact treatment and patient care. “Pain can only be communicated through metaphor,” Urlaub continues, “but metaphors don’t always match, linguistically and culturally.” Smiley faces and one-to-10 scales — pain measurement tools English-speaking medical professionals may use to assess their patients — may not travel well across racial, ethnic, cultural, and language boundaries.

“Science has to have a heart” 

LLMs can potentially help scientists improve health care, although there are some systemic and pedagogical challenges to consider. Science can focus on outcomes to the exclusion of the people it’s meant to help, Celi argues. “Science has to have a heart,” he says. “Measuring students’ effectiveness by counting the number of papers they publish or patents they produce misses the point.”

The point, Urlaub says, is to investigate carefully while simultaneously acknowledging what we don’t know, citing what philosophers call Epistemic Humility. Knowledge, the investigators argue, is provisional, and always incomplete. Deeply held beliefs may require revision in light of new evidence. 

“No one’s mental view of the world is complete,” Celi says. “You need to create an environment in which people are comfortable acknowledging their biases.”

“How do we share concerns between language educators and others interested in AI?” Urlaub asks. “How do we identify and investigate the relationship between medical professionals and language educators interested in AI’s potential to aid in the elimination of gaps in communication between doctors and patients?” 

Language, in Gameiro’s estimation, is more than just a tool for communication. “It reflects culture, identity, and power dynamics,” he says. In situations where a patient might not be comfortable describing pain or discomfort because of the physician’s position as an authority, or because their culture demands yielding to those perceived as authority figures, misunderstandings can be dangerous. 

Changing the conversation

AI’s facility with language can help medical professionals navigate these areas more carefully, providing digital frameworks offering valuable cultural and linguistic contexts in which patient and practitioner can rely on data-driven, research-supported tools to improve dialogue. Institutions need to reconsider how they educate medical professionals and invite the communities they serve into the conversation, the team says. 

‘We need to ask ourselves what we truly want,” Celi says. “Why are we measuring what we’re measuring?” The biases we bring with us to these interactions — doctors, patients, their families, and their communities — remain barriers to improved care, Urlaub and Gameiro say.

“We want to connect people who think differently, and make AI work for everyone,” Gameiro continues. “Technology without purpose is just exclusion at scale.”

“Collaborations like these can allow for deep processing and better ideas,” Urlaub says.

Creating spaces where ideas about AI and health care can potentially become actions is a key element of the project. The Language/AI Incubator hosted its first colloquium at MIT in May, which was led by Mena Ramos, a physician and the co-founder and CEO of the Global Ultrasound Institute. 

The colloquium also featured presentations from Celi, as well as Alfred Spector, a visiting scholar in MIT’s Department of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science, and Douglas Jones, a senior staff member in the MIT Lincoln Laboratory’s Human Language Technology Group. A second Language/AI Incubator colloquium is planned for August.

Greater integration between the social and hard sciences can potentially increase the likelihood of developing viable solutions and reducing biases. Allowing for shifts in the ways patients and doctors view the relationship, while offering each shared ownership of the interaction, can help improve outcomes. Facilitating these conversations with AI may speed the integration of these perspectives. 

“Community advocates have a voice and should be included in these conversations,” Celi says. “AI and statistical modeling can’t collect all the data needed to treat all the people who need it.”

Community needs and improved educational opportunities and practices should be coupled with cross-disciplinary approaches to knowledge acquisition and transfer. The ways people see things are limited by their perceptions and other factors. “Whose language are we modeling?” Gameiro asks about building LLMs. “Which varieties of speech are being included or excluded?” Since meaning and intent can shift across those contexts, it’s important to remember these when designing AI tools. 

“AI is our chance to rewrite the rules”

While there’s lots of potential in the collaboration, there are serious challenges to overcome, including establishing and scaling the technological means to improve patient-provider communication with AI, extending opportunities for collaboration to marginalized and underserved communities, and reconsidering and revamping patient care. 

But the team isn’t daunted.

Celi believes there are opportunities to address the widening gap between people and practitioners while addressing gaps in health care. “Our intent is to reattach the string that’s been cut between society and science,” he says. “We can empower scientists and the public to investigate the world together while also acknowledging the limitations engendered in overcoming their biases.”

Gameiro is a passionate advocate for AI’s ability to change everything we know about medicine. “I’m a medical doctor, and I don’t think I’m being hyperbolic when I say I believe AI is our chance to rewrite the rules of what medicine can do and who we can reach,” he says.

“Education changes humans from objects to subjects,” Urlaub argues, describing the difference between disinterested observers and active and engaged participants in the new care model he hopes to build. “We need to better understand technology’s impact on the lines between these states of being.”

Celi, Gameiro, and Urlaub each advocate for MITHIC-like spaces across health care, places where innovation and collaboration are allowed to occur without the kinds of arbitrary benchmarks institutions have previously used to mark success.

“AI will transform all these sectors,” Urlaub believes. “MITHIC is a generous framework that allows us to embrace uncertainty with flexibility.”

“We want to employ our power to build community among disparate audiences while admitting we don’t have all the answers,” Celi says. “If we fail, it’s because we failed to dream big enough about how a reimagined world could look.”

Marine scientists have long marveled at how animals like fish and seals swim so efficiently despite having different shapes. Their bodies are optimized for efficient, hydrodynamic aquatic navigation so they can exert minimal energy when traveling long distances.

Autonomous vehicles can drift through the ocean in a similar way, collecting data about vast underwater environments. However, the shapes of these gliding machines are less diverse than what we find in marine life — go-to designs often resemble tubes or torpedoes, since they’re fairly hydrodynamic as well. Plus, testing new builds requires lots of real-world trial-and-error.

Researchers from MIT’s Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory (CSAIL) and the University of Wisconsin at Madison propose that AI could help us explore uncharted glider designs more conveniently. Their method uses machine learning to test different 3D designs in a physics simulator, then molds them into more hydrodynamic shapes. The resulting model can be fabricated via a 3D printer using significantly less energy than hand-made ones.

The MIT scientists say that this design pipeline could create new, more efficient machines that help oceanographers measure water temperature and salt levels, gather more detailed insights about currents, and monitor the impacts of climate change. The team demonstrated this potential by producing two gliders roughly the size of a boogie board: a two-winged machine resembling an airplane, and a unique, four-winged object resembling a flat fish with four fins.

Peter Yichen Chen, MIT CSAIL postdoc and co-lead researcher on the project, notes that these designs are just a few of the novel shapes his team’s approach can generate. “We’ve developed a semi-automated process that can help us test unconventional designs that would be very taxing for humans to design,” he says. “This level of shape diversity hasn’t been explored previously, so most of these designs haven’t been tested in the real world.”

But how did AI come up with these ideas in the first place? First, the researchers found 3D models of over 20 conventional sea exploration shapes, such as submarines, whales, manta rays, and sharks. Then, they enclosed these models in “deformation cages” that map out different articulation points that the researchers pulled around to create new shapes.

The CSAIL-led team built a dataset of conventional and deformed shapes before simulating how they would perform at different “angles-of-attack” — the direction a vessel will tilt as it glides through the water. For example, a swimmer may want to dive at a -30 degree angle to retrieve an item from a pool.

These diverse shapes and angles of attack were then used as inputs for a neural network that essentially anticipates how efficiently a glider shape will perform at particular angles and optimizes it as needed.

Giving gliding robots a lift

The team’s neural network simulates how a particular glider would react to underwater physics, aiming to capture how it moves forward and the force that drags against it. The goal: find the best lift-to-drag ratio, representing how much the glider is being held up compared to how much it’s being held back. The higher the ratio, the more efficiently the vehicle travels; the lower it is, the more the glider will slow down during its voyage.

Lift-to-drag ratios are key for flying planes: At takeoff, you want to maximize lift to ensure it can glide well against wind currents, and when landing, you need sufficient force to drag it to a full stop.

Niklas Hagemann, an MIT graduate student in architecture and CSAIL affiliate, notes that this ratio is just as useful if you want a similar gliding motion in the ocean.

“Our pipeline modifies glider shapes to find the best lift-to-drag ratio, optimizing its performance underwater,” says Hagemann, who is also a co-lead author on a paper that was presented at the International Conference on Robotics and Automation in June. “You can then export the top-performing designs so they can be 3D-printed.”

Going for a quick glide

While their AI pipeline seemed realistic, the researchers needed to ensure its predictions about glider performance were accurate by experimenting in more lifelike environments.

They first fabricated their two-wing design as a scaled-down vehicle resembling a paper airplane. This glider was taken to MIT’s Wright Brothers Wind Tunnel, an indoor space with fans that simulate wind flow. Placed at different angles, the glider’s predicted lift-to-drag ratio was only about 5 percent higher on average than the ones recorded in the wind experiments — a small difference between simulation and reality.

A digital evaluation involving a visual, more complex physics simulator also supported the notion that the AI pipeline made fairly accurate predictions about how the gliders would move. It visualized how these machines would descend in 3D.

To truly evaluate these gliders in the real world, though, the team needed to see how their devices would fare underwater. They printed two designs that performed the best at specific points-of-attack for this test: a jet-like device at 9 degrees and the four-wing vehicle at 30 degrees.

Both shapes were fabricated in a 3D printer as hollow shells with small holes that flood when fully submerged. This lightweight design makes the vehicle easier to handle outside of the water and requires less material to be fabricated. The researchers placed a tube-like device inside these shell coverings, which housed a range of hardware, including a pump to change the glider’s buoyancy, a mass shifter (a device that controls the machine’s angle-of-attack), and electronic components.

Each design outperformed a handmade torpedo-shaped glider by moving more efficiently across a pool. With higher lift-to-drag ratios than their counterpart, both AI-driven machines exerted less energy, similar to the effortless ways marine animals navigate the oceans.

As much as the project is an encouraging step forward for glider design, the researchers are looking to narrow the gap between simulation and real-world performance. They are also hoping to develop machines that can react to sudden changes in currents, making the gliders more adaptable to seas and oceans.

Chen adds that the team is looking to explore new types of shapes, particularly thinner glider designs. They intend to make their framework faster, perhaps bolstering it with new features that enable more customization, maneuverability, or even the creation of miniature vehicles.

Chen and Hagemann co-led research on this project with OpenAI researcher Pingchuan Ma SM ’23, PhD ’25. They authored the paper with Wei Wang, a University of Wisconsin at Madison assistant professor and recent CSAIL postdoc; John Romanishin ’12, SM ’18, PhD ’23; and two MIT professors and CSAIL members: lab director Daniela Rus and senior author Wojciech Matusik. Their work was supported, in part, by a Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) grant and the MIT-GIST Program.

Common sense tells us to run from molten lava flowing from active volcanoes. But MIT professors J. Jih, Cristina Parreño Alonso, and Skylar Tibbits — faculty in the Department of Architecture at the School of Architecture and Planning — have their bags packed to head to southwest Iceland in anticipation of an imminent volcanic eruption. The Nordic island nation is currently experiencing a period of intense seismic activity; seven volcanic eruptions have taken place in its southern peninsula in under a year.

Earlier this year, the faculty built and placed a series of lightweight, easily deployable steel structures close to the volcano, where a few of the recent eruptions have taken place; several more structures are on trucks waiting to be delivered to sites where fissures open and lava oozes out. Cameras are in place to record what happens when the lava meets and hits these structures to help understand the lava flows.

This new research explores what type of shapes and materials can be used to interact with lava and successfully divert it from heading in the direction of habitats or critical infrastructure that lie in its path. Their work is supported by a Professor Amar. G. Bose Research Grant.

“We’re trying to imagine new ways of conceptualizing infrastructure when it relates to lava and volcanic eruptions,” says Jih, an associate professor of the practice. “Lovely for us as designers, physical prototyping is the only way you can test some of these ideas out.” 

Currently, the Icelandic Department of Civic Protection and Emergency Management and an engineering group, EFLA, are diverting the lava with massive berms (approximately 44 to 54 yards in length and 9 yards in height) made from earth and stone.

Berms protecting the town of Grindavik, a power plant, and the popular Blue Lagoon geothermal spa have met with mixed results. In November 2024, a volcano erupted for the seventh time in less than a year, forcing the evacuation of town residents and the Blue Lagoon’s guests and employees. The latter’s parking lot was consumed by lava.

Sigurdur Thorsteinsson, chief brand, design, and innovation officer of the Blue Lagoon, as well as a designer and a partner in Design Group Italia, was on site for this eruption and several others.

“Some magma went into the city of Grindavik and three or four houses were destroyed,” says Thorsteinsson. “One of our employees watched her house go under magma on television, which was an emotional moment.”

While staff at the Blue Lagoon have become very efficient at evacuating guests, says Thorsteinsson, each eruption forces the tourist destination to close and townspeople to evacuate, disrupting lives and livelihoods.

“You cannot really stop the magma,” says Thorsteinsson, who is working with the MIT faculty on this research project. “It’s too powerful.”

Tibbits, associate professor of design research and founder and co-director of the Self-Assembly Lab, agrees. His research explores how to guide or work with the forces of nature.

Last year, Tibbits and Jih were in Iceland on another research project when erupting volcanoes interrupted their work. The two started thinking about how the lava could be redirected.

“The question is: Can we find more strategic interventions in the field that could work with the lava, rather than fight it?” says Tibbits.

To investigate what kinds of materials would withstand this type of interaction, they invited Parreño Alonso, a senior lecturer in the Department of Architecture, to join them.

“Cristina, being the department authority on magma, was an obvious and important partner for us,” says Jih with a smile.

Parreño Alonso has been working with volcanic rock for years and taught a series of design studios exploring volcanic rock as an architectural material. She also has proposed designing structures to engage directly with lava flows and recently has been examining volcanic rock in a molten state and melting basalt in MIT’s foundry with Michael Tarkanian, a senior lecturer in MIT’s Department of Materials Science and Engineering, and Metals Lab director. For this project, she is exploring the potential of molten rock as a substitute for concrete, a widely used material because of its pliability.

“It’s exciting how this idea of working with volcanoes was taking shape in parallel, from different angles, within the same department,” says Parreño Alonso. “I love how these parallel interests have led to such a beautiful collaboration.”

She also sees other opportunities by collaborating with these forces of nature.

“We are interested in the potential of generating something out of the interaction with the lava,” she says. “Could it be a landscape that becomes a park? There are many possibilities.”

The steel structures were first tested at MIT’s Metals Lab with Tarkanian and then built onsite in Iceland. The team wanted to make the structures lightweight so they could be quickly set up in the field, but strong enough so they wouldn’t be easily destroyed. Various designs were created; this iteration of the design has V-shaped structures that can guide the lava to flow around them, or they can be reconfigured as ramps or tunnels.

“There is a road that has been hit by many of the recent eruptions and must keep being rebuilt,” says Tibbits. “We created two ramps that could in the future serve as tunnels, allowing the lava to flow over the road and create a type of lava cave where the cars could drive under the cooled lava.”

Tibbits says they see the structures in the field now as an initial intervention. After documenting and studying how they interact with the lava, the architects will develop new iterations of what they believe will eventually become critical infrastructure for locations around the world with active volcanoes.

“If we can show and prove what kinds of shapes and structures and what kinds of materials can divert magma flows, I think it’s incredibly valuable research,” says Thorsteinsson.

Thorsteinsson lives in Italy half of the year and says the volcanoes there — Mount Etna in Sicily and Mount Vesuvius in the Gulf of Naples — pose a greater danger than those in Iceland because of the densely populated neighborhoods nearby. Volcanoes in Hawaii and Japan are in similarly populated areas.

“Whatever information you can learn about diverting magma flows to other directions and what kinds of structures are needed — it would be priceless,” he says.