Why does everybody think I’m paranoid? Was George Orwell’s 1940 novel 1984, about a future where totalitarianism, mass surveillance and repression are the norm just a paranoid delusion, or a classic piece of prophetic literature?
One might also wonder: Is paranoia a diagnosis or a symptom?
Me? Well. I seem to be humming an old Rockwell song from 1984 called Somebody’s Watching Me a lot these days.
Say what, you ask?
Well, let’s face it, whether you know it or not, Artificial Intelligence (AI) is now a reality and it’s already an intrinsic part of modern life, whether we care about it or not. According to the AI behind Google, AI refers to “computer systems capable of performing complex tasks that historically only a human could do, such as reasoning, making decisions, or solving problems.”
Historically, because AI seems to be trumping human cognitive powers daily by leaps and bounds. Recent examples are Grammarly and facial recognition. One finishes your sentences. The other pretty much finishes you off, reputation-wise.
My own problem is simple: I am one of those paranoid human beings who regularly updates my online passwords. Trust no one and you will never be disappointed, or robbed. Unfortunately, I am also a human being who regularly loses my updated online passwords.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve lost my passwords and had to convince that accursed CAPTCHA thingy that I am, indeed, a living, breathing human (even though it already knows more about me than my ex-wife, right down to the colour of the underwear I wear in church on Sunday. Okay, I don’t really go to church. But AI knows that too).
To me, it just seems rather inhumane that I, a bona fide human, should be forced to struggle at proving that I am a human, especially to a robot. Believe me, I’ve experienced moments with CAPTCHA when I literally questioned my sanity, let alone my humanity.
While I’m on that subject, I sometimes wonder about the sanity of using facial recognition in lieu of a password on your phone, not to mention paying for your groceries with the same phone— this in a day and age when you have to prove you are a human just to login on Facebook or Instagram.
What if my facial features were to change overnight, say in the aftermath of a punch in the nose or a killer hangover? Will my phone lock me out faster than an angry spouse?
I will say, though, that when you are a single guy my age, you begin to look forward to that automated, feminine voice welcoming you to Canadian Tire, even though the voice sounds about as warm as an ice cube in an Antarctic blizzard. At least it’s polite, unlike some ex-wives I know. Ahem.
Conversely, I admit I feel strangely violated when I go through a Walmart self-checkout machine with its rather nosy camera, that just sits there silently, showing me a selfie of myself, as I scan my purchases. It always feels more accusatory than welcoming, to me.
Will my phone lock me out faster than an angry spouse?
I often find myself looking back at me, thinking, “Jeez, I need a haircut,” while humming that Rockwell song.
Ironically, Walmart wants me to work there for free but Walmart does not really trust me to shop there. Otherwise, they would not always ask me, “Did you scan all of your purchases today?”
What am I supposed to say? “Uh, nope. Catch me if you can”?
Is it just me or does AI seem to have no moral compass at all? That reminds me, I’ve also figured out why Walmart does not have a self-checkout lane for beer purchases: not only do AI self-checkout machines have no morals, they also can’t smell beer on your breath at 11 a.m. on a Sunday.
Ahem.
One thing I’ll say for the Shopper’s Drug Mart scanner, at least it takes the time to get to know you, with a lively game of 20 Questions, before you can hit the PAY button. Admittedly, I sometimes feel slightly cheapened, when I say, “No, thanks!” when asked if I’d like to donate to a children’s charity. Personally, I’d like to say, “I can’t afford it now, Bub,” but there’s no button for that.
Sigh.
We sure have come a long way in a short time. I have come to conclude that my form of paranoia actually can be diagnosed because it exists for good reason. Rockwell and Orwell never met but they sure thought alike in some ways.
Me? I believe the human mind is like anything else: you either use it or you lose it. The uptick of AI technology, however, is that for the millions of modern-day Eleanor Rigbys out there they may rest assured: if you have Alexa, you are never really, truly alone.
Rockwell's Somebody's Watching Me. Fifty bucks says that for the last 40 years you assumed this was Michael Jackson singing:
