A lot of people are scared of doomsday scenarios wherein the technology we’ve created becomes so advanced that it turns on us and takes over the world. More than once the movie industry has taken this conceit to its illogical end and there are countless conspiracy theorists who eschew EZpass and PayPal for fear of falling prey to modern technology.
Am I worried about technology getting so smart it will take over the world? Not really. Frankly, a world run entirely by computers would probably be a more functional, efficient world; one with less waste, more judiciousness, and fewer idiots showcasing themselves on reality TV.
But I do have fears associated with technology getting smarter. Those fears? That technology will become smart enough to emotionally manipulate me. Some of you probably balk at this. Certainly a computer isn’t some seventh grade mean girl who’s going to be friends with you one day and then trip you in lunchroom the next. Well, I’m not so certain things aren’t headed that way. I’ve noticed a disturbing trend of technology becoming more judgmental and I don’t like it.
I present to you three pieces of evidence.
Exhibit A: When I first joined Google+, it immediately advised me: ‘Add at least 10 people to your circles to make sure your experience is awesome.' What the hell is that supposed to mean!?!? I felt like Google+ was telling me I didn’t have enough friends to be fun; telling me, in so many words, that I was a loser.
It reminded me of a particularly bad hairdresser I went to once. She told me, after I said about five words over the course of my haircut, that if I wanted to have friends I had to be nicer to people and put myself out there. I don’t know she determined I was friendless (which I wasn’t!) and why after knowing me for 45 minutes she felt it necessary to counsel me on improving my social life. It ended poorly when she confronted me by the elevator about not tipping her. I didn’t tip her because not only did she give me a dreadful haircut, but she made me feel like a loser while doing so. What I should have done was say, “Here’s a tip, don’t be a bitch to your clients,” but in reality I stepped quickly into the elevator and jammed on the Door Close button, before crying about my lousy haircut in front of an innocent male bystander who told me, “I think your hair looks fine,” as he likely thanked his lucky stars that I wasn’t his crazy girlfriend.
But I digress.
On to Exhibit B: Awhile back, while listening to Pandora, a Barney song came up in my queue. Of course, I’d already used all of my skips, so in order to remain on my Disney songs channel, I had to sit and listen to Barney.
I thought to myself, Barney? What the hell!? Simply because I like songs from Glee and every Disney movie ever doesn’t mean I want to listen to any old fictional character sing about friendship. If you’re so smart, Pandora, then wouldn’t you assume that very few toddlers are customizing their own play lists? Wouldn’t you assume that given their demonstrated access to high-speed internet, desire for relatively commercial-free programming, and ability to sit still for longer than five minutes, that most Pandora listeners are in fact adults, regardless of how childish their musical preferences? It’s highly unlikely that any actual Pandora user really wants to listen to Barney. I think Pandora intentionally played Barney after I’d used all my skips in order to make me feel like a fool.
Exhibit C: Earlier in the month, I attempted to make a credit card purchase but had my card declined. I was panicked at first, wracking my brain to remember if I’d forgotten to pay my bill. When I called the credit card company, Susan, the customer service representative, let me know that there was a suspicious charge that needed review. I was nervous, until she described the ‘suspicious’ charge, which was just a payment for an online dating service I’d recently joined. She then asked to confirm my other recent purchases: Yes, I purchased one yoga class. Yes, I placed a $12 take-out food order for one. Yes, I was attempting to buy one concert ticket when my card was declined. I’m single, okay!?!?
I felt like shouting, “You know what MasterCard, if you can’t extend me a line of credit without judging my single girl purchases, then don’t bother!” I knew it wasn’t Susan’s fault. It was some computer somewhere, reviewing and judging my purchases; some computer that probably got a good laugh out of my short-lived panic and it’s opportunity to draw attention to my impending spinsterhood. I fully expect that my next emailed statement will be flanked by ads from Google for cat strollers and methods for achieving thinner thighs, further digs at my psyche from mean-spirited technology.
I’m not worried about computers taking over the world. I’m worried about computers gaining the power and the wherewithal to make me feel like an overweight middle schooler during team selection in gym class: self-conscious, insignificant, shameful, and awkward. And, from my experience, you should be too. I rest my case.
I thought to myself, Barney? What the hell!? Simply because I like songs from Glee and every Disney movie ever doesn’t mean I want to listen to any old fictional character sing about friendship. If you’re so smart, Pandora, then wouldn’t you assume that very few toddlers are customizing their own play lists? Wouldn’t you assume that given their demonstrated access to high-speed internet, desire for relatively commercial-free programming, and ability to sit still for longer than five minutes, that most Pandora listeners are in fact adults, regardless of how childish their musical preferences? It’s highly unlikely that any actual Pandora user really wants to listen to Barney. I think Pandora intentionally played Barney after I’d used all my skips in order to make me feel like a fool.
Exhibit C: Earlier in the month, I attempted to make a credit card purchase but had my card declined. I was panicked at first, wracking my brain to remember if I’d forgotten to pay my bill. When I called the credit card company, Susan, the customer service representative, let me know that there was a suspicious charge that needed review. I was nervous, until she described the ‘suspicious’ charge, which was just a payment for an online dating service I’d recently joined. She then asked to confirm my other recent purchases: Yes, I purchased one yoga class. Yes, I placed a $12 take-out food order for one. Yes, I was attempting to buy one concert ticket when my card was declined. I’m single, okay!?!?
I felt like shouting, “You know what MasterCard, if you can’t extend me a line of credit without judging my single girl purchases, then don’t bother!” I knew it wasn’t Susan’s fault. It was some computer somewhere, reviewing and judging my purchases; some computer that probably got a good laugh out of my short-lived panic and it’s opportunity to draw attention to my impending spinsterhood. I fully expect that my next emailed statement will be flanked by ads from Google for cat strollers and methods for achieving thinner thighs, further digs at my psyche from mean-spirited technology.
I’m not worried about computers taking over the world. I’m worried about computers gaining the power and the wherewithal to make me feel like an overweight middle schooler during team selection in gym class: self-conscious, insignificant, shameful, and awkward. And, from my experience, you should be too. I rest my case.
No comments:
Post a Comment