Years ago, on the precipice of Apple Inc. taking over the world, my friend sat on my laptop and cracked the screen. I called Apple for some repair information and a robot answered the phone. The robot was friendly and had traces of a laid-back California accent but it was also a piece of talking machinery and I became instantly uncomfortable.
"Hey! Thanks so much for calling Apple. I'm an automated assistant that understands English and will connect to you to the right representative. This call will be recorded for quality assurance. Now what can I do for you today?"
I was stunned. I was but a teenager that grew up knowing The Jetsons to be a fictional family in a ridiculous concept setting. No one told me that we had chit-chat ready robots working at innovative companies. Shouldn't they be updating us on these things in school? The robot was waiting for my response and it was recording me. I suddenly couldn't remember why I was calling.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Let's try again. What can I do for you today?" I gasped. It knew I hadn't said anything. Did it know what I was thinking? I thought I'd better say something so it would stop reading my mind.
"I, umm..." I imagined this recording being filed in the archives, pulled for the quality assurance test, and then passed around the cubicle for a laugh. Then I became amused with myself, tried to stifle it, and then focused on why I was calling but my mind was blank. What I wound up saying was this, "Well, haha, I forgot, hahaha!" and then I hung up the phone and sat still as a statue in my room for a full minute with an icky feeling inside.
In more recent times, I've had many a phone call answered by plastic bits and electricity but you get used to these things. Also, I found that if you simply refuse to talk to the machine, it will connect you to an operator without having to answer questions and enter your assorted pin numbers and account information. I neglect robots daily and feel superior for it.
As social media has grown ever larger in its quest for global domination, I've become more and more off-put by the targeted ads, suggested products, and supposed knowledge of my preferences. Things I read about on my phone will later show up as an ad on my desktop. When did my phone and computer become friends? I didn't know they knew each other. Do you think they talk about me while I'm sleeping? Does my iPad join in and invite Brett's phone and they all go out for an express charging or juiced-up backlights?
I don't know what I Googled but recently I'm only getting ads for plus size clothing and blogs run by "big, beautiful" women. "Are you calling me fat?" I asked my computer the other day. To counteract this targeted terrorism, I did some mock online shopping, making sure to "sort by size" to get my point across. This has not helped and instead my sidebars are now filled with everything from pre-natal vitamins, plus-sized swimwear, motherhood blogs, and boots for wide-set feet. Google thinks I'm fat and pregnant and I don't know what I did to deserve this. Are my greedy devices playing a trick on me? Has that initial Apple robot tracked me down, livid about his poor quality assurance review after my phone call, and fat-shaming is his only available retaliation at this time?
"She made me look ineffective." he'd mumble in 1's and 0's. Maybe word spread of my inner fright of befriending machines or they heard me telling Brett how I wanted to switch back to a flip-phone that couldn't send emails or connect to Instagram. Did my phone decode my longing for acreage and farm animals?
"We're losing her!" the iPad must have shouted, sending a note to Google to lay off the ads for reattachable nursing bras. What about flowers and foreign countries and websites for humorist essays; the hours I spend listening to bluegrass tunes and reading articles about personality types and dogs with ACL injuries? Most recently I spent a solid amount of time looking for a local committee that opposes Charleston's rapid expansion. "citizens against development","anti-development groups charleston","charleston city planner blows", etc and my keywords led me nowhere. Why don't I get ads for anarchists and urban planners? What about animal lovers and the musings on humankind?
Maybe technology has reached the ability to foresee the future. Maybe my computer is only trying to warn me about a lard-lugging fate, but either way, I find it all a bit offensive.
No comments:
Post a Comment