Tillamook County Pioneer
News & People of Tillamook County. Every Day.
By Butch Freedman
I’ve tried to hide from this issue, pretending that it didn’t impact me, that I was now too old to worry about such things. But that was foolhardy of me. Like the rest of our fractured world, you can’t make the problems go away by ignoring the onslaught. Believe me I’ve tried. But this thing, this abomination, labeled A.I. (or if you’re our secretary of education, A-One—she likes her steak sauce) seeps in around the edges. It’s everywhere, sometimes hidden away, other times smack in our faces.
Recently I had to see a medical specialist in an office where I had not been before. I suspected there might be problems right from the start when I called to schedule the appointment, and the “person” who answered the phone began with, “Hi, I’m Becky, your A.I. assistant. How can I help you?” She (it) sounded convincingly human, which only made the whole business even creepier. I felt myself instantly on guard, and then surly with “Becky.” I didn’t want to interact with a robot, so demanded to talk to a real person, which seemed to confuse Becky. Not ten seconds after hanging up, I began to receive text messages, asking for further information, then a series of forms were texted asking for extensive medical and personal information, insurance info, and medical history. The emails and texts didn’t stop after all that, now asking me to join their “portal” where I would be likely further interrogated and categorized. After the first couple days, I stopped responding. But, as I needed the medical attention, I reluctantly kept the appointment. The experience didn’t improve much when I arrived at the clinic. The workers and medical assistants seemed as overwhelmed by the on-going demands for information as I was. They appeared slightly puzzled when I told them I had already answered all of the same questions they were now apologetically asking for again. I was handed an I-Pad and several printed questionnaires. I sensed A.I. was to blame. Artificial intelligence, as the name implies, has no concept of how to deal with real people. Despite trying to mimic humanity, the enhanced computers do a damn poor job of it. I did eventually get to see a real living doctor, who seemed competent enough, though also slightly confused about his role.
Of course, my misadventure at the clinic is only the tiniest part of the A.I. revolution. It’s an infection that is spreading like covid did, and with likely worse long-term outcomes. The tech billionaires continue to pour money into ever-increasing and encroaching systems. They do so with no established guardrails; the only consideration appearing to be greater profits for their companies, some now worth a trillion dollars. Little, if any, consideration is given to the impact on humanity or to the moral questions involved in letting machines make decisions for humanity. “A.I. will make all of our lives easier and more productive,” the college graduation speakers tell the new grads, then appear startled when they are greeted with resounding choruses of boos. These grads understand and rightfully resent what their future looks like, absent now of any need for their learning and degrees.
The examples of A.I.’s hold on our institutions are everywhere, from schools (I’d hate to be a teacher in this age, who has to constantly guard against students outsourcing their assignment to their A.I. plagiarizers.) to governments, where major decisions are often now made by machines, to my doctor’s office. Oh, by the way, my diagnosis was confirmed when the doc consulted with a disembodied A.I. medical assistant. Again, creepy. But, I will admit, accurate.
I’ll be on my guard when I return for my next medical appointment, and when I order anything on-line, or read a newspaper, or decide who to vote for, or who wrote the book I’m reading. I mean, who’s in charge here? Who’s paying attention? Who can make it stop? Who will rein in this ongoing attack on human sensibility? Makes me almost glad I’m an old guy. I won’t likely live to see the eventual end of this madness.
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