Perhaps, even, they will be able to experience emotions, much like Marvin (from Hitchiker's Guide) or (Data from Star Trek) did.
Complex emotions, such as elation, grief, love, etc. are far beyond the realm of current technology. But, it is pleasing to note that scientists have now been successful in getting a computer to experience sadness and contrition.
Yes, you heard it here first, dear reader! The media outlets have been noteably silent about this, no doubt to prevent the populace fearing a Terminatoresque rise of the machines, but I have seen and experienced the results first-hand.
Last weekend, I sat on a train station, watching the minutes tick by until my train arrived. It was a cold night (sub-zero), an outdoor platform and few lights to brighten my evening; the garish illumination of the clock, and the destination board, were my only source of entertainment.
I watch the list of stations at which my train would stop as it scrolled along the screen until.... blank. But, within a heartbeat, the board had changed: My train was now running 2 minutes late. The display now showed the scheduled time and the later expected time. Much as you'd expect. But, as my heart sank at the thought of the tardy locomotive, these words appeard on the screen:
We apologise for any incovenience caused.
Huh?
What?
I pondered these words as I waited... as the 2 minute delay grew to 10 minutes, then 15. But, as the delays grew longer and icicles begain to form on my nose, the words remained.
We apologise for any incovenience caused.
Curious, I stood and wandered over to the top of the flight of stairs. From thence, I could see into the ticket window, and saw the station master enjoying a hot beverage while completeing some paperwork. He did not, in my view, appear the slightest bit apologetic. If he were contrite in any way, he might have offered me something warm to drink, or invited me to wait in his warm, well lit office. But he did not - it was obvious that HE had not written this message of apology.
Suspecting a person in the central control room may be responsible, I phoned their complaints line the next day. Not wanting to let on my suspicions, I was cagey about what I asked. The operator reiterated the the apology for the inconvenience, using exactly the wording that was on the sign. But there was no genuine emotion or empathy in her voice: she was sitting in a nice warm call centre, and was clearly reading out the pre-written party line from her computer screen. In the background, I could hear the chatter from other call takers. Clearly she, nor anyone in her department, was very apologetic about my inconvenience.
In the newspaper, the Minister for Transport was discussing a new rail link or something. There was a photo of him, shaking someone's hand. They were smiling and laughing. Laughing, I tell you! Not even in the corner of his twinkling eye was there even a morsel of regret. And if the man at the top, with ultimate responsibility, was so patently unrepentant, then there was clearly no one else in the chain of command whom would be.
From whence did the message come? From the only intelligence that shared my plight, of course. The only one who had walked a mile in my moccasins, and experienced the endless eternity of waiting on a cold dark platform for the train that would not come. For, as I sat alone there, my only companion was the computer than ran the display board.
And there we have it, gentle reader: A pure apology. One completely untouched by human hands, issued by the computers themselve to a human. They apologise. They regret the inconvenience that I experienced.
After trying to deal with the humans working at National Rail, it's nice to know that something cares, even if it's just a computer.
1 comment:
"walked a mile in my moccasins"
Always walk a mile in another man's moccasins. That way you'll be a mile away and you'll have their moccasins too!! :o)
I've always thought that computers would be the only ones to understand me....
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