“Alexa, turn off living room.” Living room light goes dark.
“Hey Siri, set a timer for 6 minutes.” Her female voice replies, “Six minutes, starting now.” I close the lid on the grill and wait for the timer to beep.
“Alexa, play K-Love.” The house is filled with music.
“Hey Siri, set an alarm for 3:00.” Just so I don’t nap too long.
“Alexa, what’s my notification?” “You have one new notification. Your item will arrive today.” Now what did I order?
“Hey Siri, what’s on my calendar for tomorrow?” “You have six events…”
My four-year-old grandson yells, “Alexa! Play the garbage truck song by Blippi.” And off we go.
“Alexa, play Blue Bloods on Netflix.” The TV comes to life and we pick up exactly where we left off the last time we watched.
Just like me, many of you have similar conversations during the day with Siri and Alexa (and maybe Google). We talk with, consult and ask favors of an artificial intelligence who generally responds with exactly what we want. From time to time there is a misunderstanding. But most of the time, the conversation is short and sweet and satisfying.
In a sense, there is another person in the room. Just like a Downton Abbey “valet.” Or a personal assistant. Or your mom, I guess. Someone who is there to attend to your needs. She was novel at first. Then it became a game. And now I don’t even think twice about my commands and requests.
I’m fascinated by how quickly this technology became a part of my everyday routine. It is only a matter of time before my “assistant” anticipate my wants or needs. She will know when to turn on the lights, the music or the TV. She will predict what I am likely to buy online. She will adjust the temperature in the house, remind me of a dentist appointment, and schedule an oil change for the car.
I like this. Some are afraid of this. I appreciate the help and the reminder. Others will balk at the loss of privacy. No matter how you feel, this is the future. And it’s not far away.
Before long, AI will be making phone calls for us. Google demonstrated this reality a few weeks ago when Google Assistant called and made an appointment with a human stylist. The typical stilted electronic sounding voice of automation has been refined to sound just like a real person, complete with pauses, “ums” and “ahs.”
This opens up so many possibilities and challenges. Previously, we would ask, “With whom am I speaking,” to get a name to refer to later. Now we ask, “Where are you calling from?” knowing that we may be talking to someone in a call center on the other side of the earth. In the future we’ll wonder, “Is this a real person or a computer?”
I can think of a few future scenarios in my own line of work. In the not too far off future, the guest sign in book at church will be an iPad. I won’t have to try and decipher the handwriting anymore since you’ll type in or speak your name and email. Later that afternoon or evening, you’ll get a phone call that sounds like me, but will actually be my digital assistant who has found your phone number and contacted you. On Monday morning when I check my calendar, I’ll have an appointment with that’s week’s visitors, all arranged by AI. I’ll be able to glance over information about you and your family gleaned from your social media accounts, fuel for our conversation. (And yes, my self-driving car will take me to your home so I can download my computer-generated sermon on the way.)
I know, that scenario is out there, but it made me wonder about our pursuit of avoiding human contact. Just think of all the ways we no longer have to talk to a person.
I get my cash from an ATM, no longer interacting with a teller inside the bank.
I order food or coffee with an app or at a kiosk in the restaurant, and then grab it off a shelf.
I do the majority of my shopping online. I rarely see anyone drop packages off at my door. They just magically appear!
I ask my phone for directions instead of a person. It routes me around accidents and traffics snarls, too.
I wonder what percentage of my human interactions take place via text or email? Honestly, I’d guess more than half.
My experiences only scratch this reality that isolates us more and more each day.
Virtual schools now replace some brick and mortar classrooms and flesh and blood teachers.
Your resume or application has been vetted by AI long before someone in human resources or a loan officer ever lays eyes on it.
How many people diagnose their own ailments and treat their own diseases by consulting online resources rather than going to the doctor?
You no longer have to go to the store for groceries, dealing with all those annoying people who clog up the aisles and make you wait in line. Your digital order will arrive later this afternoon.
I love the possibilities of AI, am fascinated by the technology, and love to discover what I can do. But how many have adopted these technologies to avoid human contact? Do those who don’t like or fear their classmates, teachers, and coworkers find refuge in a virtual world? No doubt. What about those seeking to avoid illness, judgment, conflict, prejudice or hatred? Probably. Or if you just want your own way, without having to persuade, convince or compromise, it can be quite satisfying, I guess.
Well, it’s not going to go away. It’s going to infiltrate just about every area of our lives. And even though I tend to be a private person who enjoys alone time, I can’t stay there. Not for too long, anyway.
I get so much more accomplished when I actually talk to a person. A few minutes of conversation can be so much more productive than an endless volley of texts or emails over several hours or days.
Talking to someone in person is the best. Whether it’s a difficult visit or one I’ve looked forward to, face-to-face is always better than my anticipations. I think we’re wired that way.
Laughter, sorrow, anger, enthusiasm, inspiration, and calmness all seem to be contagious. Catching emotion from those around us makes me feel something. It makes me feel alive.
I enjoy teaching. Which means I like being with someone or a room full of students, asking questions, giving examples, sharing experiences, listening to ideas and conveying understanding. Classrooms are alive!
I love music, too. I can sit and play for hours. But it’s so much more fun to play in a band or sing with a group!
I know too many widows and widowers who now have to eat alone. It’s no fun. I know too many young people whose human interaction has been so limited they have a hard time with conversation. That’s frustrating. Too many have surrendered to abusive behavior because they had no one to tell, and no one to teach them differently. That’s tragic. Too many have turned to violence because they knew no other way to relate to the world around them. That is frightening.
Don’t worry, you won’t become obsolete in a digital world. There’s someone who needs you to talk to them. Someone real. Someone just like you.