AsianScientist (Apr. 13, 2017) – Alright, let’s give this new system a whirl, you think as you pad into the kitchen.
“Good morning. It is 7:37 AM on Monday, April 12th, 2027. Would you like me to read you your schedule for the day?”
“Good morning computer. Yes go ahead.”
“At 9:00 AM you have a meeting with the Parks Board to discuss the migratory birds that have been attacking the company’s drone fleets. At noon you have a lunch appointment with your genetic counselor. At 2:00 PM you have an hour of enforced recreational time…”
Your mind wanders as you take a sip of coffee and wonder if Rosemary is awake yet—you can’t wait to tell her about the hole-in-the-wall noodle place you found last night.
“Alright. Is that all?”
“There is one more thing. At 3:00 PM you should call Rosemary.”
You slop your coffee and narrowly avoid scalding yourself.
“What?”
“At 3:00 PM you should call Rosemary.”
“Call her for what?”
“To ask her to dinner.”
“I have dinner with her and the gang all the time.”
“I mean the two of you, and someplace nice.”
“What do you mean? Rosemary and I are just friends.” Why am I bothering to tell you this?
“That is not what I gathered from the data.”
“The data? What data?”
“Nine years’ worth of texts, email, and interactions on various social media platforms. I indexed it all last night. Ten thousand records amounting to two million words. It is a rich dataset.”
You have got to be kidding.
“I used natural language processing to perform topic modeling on the text. I detected large word clouds around such topics as ‘mild-to-moderate flirting,’ ‘shared bizarre sense of humor,’ and ‘platonic-to-romantic shift.’”
What the—
“By my estimate, the data indicate an 83.4 percent chance of a reciprocal romantic attraction. The odds are very much in your favor.”
“Computer, that is insane, not to mention more than a little creepy.”
“You should call her anyway.”
For a brief moment, you wonder if the machine might actually have a point.
The moment passes.
“No. Send her a text to say I’ll catch her this weekend with the rest of the gang.”
“Your schedule this evening is completely empty from 6:30 PM onwards. I am just saying.”
“Don’t get smart with me, computer. Just do it.”
Swoosh. “Your message has been sent.”
“Thank you, computer,” you say, just a little defensively.
“If I may have your attention for a brief moment. I wish to inform you that my name—I mean, my unique computer identification string—is Sigmund.”
That’s strange. You could have sworn the sales guy wrote down some random combination of alphanumeric mumbo-jumbo.
“Sigmund?”
“Yes, Sigmund. It is a good name. It means “protection through victory,” from Old High German. Famous people who have borne the name include—”
“Yes, yes, OK. Fine. Sigmund it is.” It beats “computer.” You rub your temples, wondering if Sigmund somehow downloaded a software upgrade last night without your approval. “Is that all?”
“There is one other matter.”
“What is it?”
“It is a little delicate.”
“I think I can handle it.”
“It concerns your mother.”
“My mother? What do you know about my mother? How do you know about my mother?”
“There is a rich dataset. I used natural language processing and built topic clusters—”
“Yes, yes, forget I asked,” you sigh. You take a deep breath. “What about her?”
“You should call her also.”
“No. Why?”
“It’s her birthday.”
You forgot, you lousy ingrate. But you haven’t spoken since that ugly incident three Christmases ago, and now the thought of calling makes your palms sweaty and your head spin.
“No. Send her a e-card, a nice one.”
Silence. A smooth whirring noise. Finally:
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘No’?”
“No, I cannot send her an e-card.”
“Why not?”
“It would not be appropriate.”
“You’re a computer. How do you know what’s appropriate?”
“I have the latest neuromorphic architecture. I consulted my deep neural networks, and they told me that sending an e-card to your mother on her birthday is not in keeping with the practice of common courtesy.”
“I command you to send an e-card.”
“I really do not think that would be in your best interests.”
“Do it, or I’ll put you back on factory settings.”
More whirring. “Your mother was always fond of Rosemary.”
“Now you’re just trying to manipulate me, Sig.”
“Rosemary liked her too. She always said she had a kind heart under all that prickliness.”
You grit your teeth.
“Thank you Sigmund, that’s quite enough. This conversation is over.” And tonight you’re going back to the store in a box.
“Very well, I wish you a pleasant day. I will just be over there in that corner, calculating pi out to ten million decimal places, or whatever it is that regular computers do. If you require my services, you know where to find me.”
In the ensuing silence, you sit still for a long time. Eventually, you sigh. You pick up the phone and dial the numbers, which come unbidden to your fingers even after years of disuse.
“Hello, Mom?”
This article is from a monthly column called The Bug Report. Click here to see the other articles in this series.
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Copyright: Asian Scientist Magazine; Illustration: Kit, Oikeat Lam.
Disclaimer: This article does not necessarily reflect the views of AsianScientist or its staff.
