This was very true.
Godel's theorem and his own result were concerned with the machine as a sort of papal authority, infallible rather than intelligent.
But his real point lay in the imitation principle, couched in traditional British terms of 'fair play for machines', when it came to 'testing their IQ', a point which brought him back to the idea of mechanical learning by experience:
A human mathematician has always undergone an extensive training.
This training may be regarded as not unlike putting instruction tables into a machine.
One must therefore not expect a machine to do a very great deal of building up of instruction tables on its own.
No man adds very much to the body of knowledge. Why should we expect more of a machine?
Putting the same point differently, the machine must be allowed to have contact with human beings in order that it may adapt itself to their standards.
The game of chess may perhaps be rather suitable for this purpose, as the moves of the opponent will automatically provide this contact.
At the end of this talk there was a moment of stunned incredulity, during which his audience looked round with disbelief.
This was probably much to Alan's delight.
He knew perfectly well that he was upsetting the conventional armistice between science and religion, and it was all the more grist to his mill.
He was not now going to toe this official line that separated the 'unconscious automatic machine' from the 'higher realms of the intellect'.
There was no such line—that was his thesis.