Artificial Sweetening

 At our weekly family meeting, during the Big Question section, my son asked, "Is it time to be worried about computers in everything?" It would have probably been a little bit of a letdown for him to hear his parents' reply, but he wasn't in attendance that evening. He had used our computer-assisted agenda system to insert his question into the discussion. Later, upon his return home, I told him that his mother and father only took a few moments to decide that we were not freaked out by the advances in artificial intelligence and machines thinking for us. I was proud that his response was appropriately geeky.

"Aren't you worried about Google becoming self-aware? Which one of these 'assistants' will go rogue, like Skynet?" His Terminator reference was well-placed, and certainly the worry that a nuclear war would be brought about by an overzealous app is pretty creepy science fiction, but it didn't sway me.

I have grown far to used to shouting into the dark for Google to turn on the lights for me. Or having the capacity to discern an earworm that got stuck in my head purely by accident. "What was that song?" It has also rid me of the anxiety I find in stopping to ask for directions. Google will get me there. Even if everyone in the car wants to argue with the route, somehow we manage to find our collective way. Me and my robotic overlords.

Did I say "overlords?" I meant protectors.

My wife does have limits to her surrender. She insists on keeping the light switch in our bedroom as the one manual flip required at the end of the day. I was more than comfortable with the chance to call out for assistance from the warmth and safety of my bed for the darkness to come. Just as I have handed the responsibility of waking me for work each day to that electric puck, now available in decorator colors. I confess that it will be a sad day when I report to school an hour late "because of Google," but I don't expect I will be alone in that moment of crisis.

What I tried to explain to my son was that I am at an age when I am more than happy to hand over the day to day trivialities of my life to machines. Pressing a power button on an appliance seems like an absurd amount of work, and this holiday season I look forward to another year of having our outdoor twinklefest begin and end with the sound of my voice each night.

I don't expect that Google or Siri or Alexa will try anything as grandiose as nuclear war to bring us to our knees. They'll do it by systematically lowering our ability to think and do for ourselves. Soon, we'll be following their directions to the nearest mill for processing. Soylent Green for everyone!