Jan 1, 2024–After a decade of principled resistance, I’ve finally let an unwelcome visitor inside my house.
“Alexa… are you turned on?”
I know, I know. I fought against allowing the snoopy digital neighbor into my home because of invasion of privacy, data mining, assimilation by the Borg, yada yada. And I’m still not convinced, but I wanted to conduct an experiment as the imagined 1950s science fiction AI/Robot Alliance steadily marches into reality.
Two factors led me to acquiesce:
1) The realization that all of our electronic appliances–from cell phone to washing machine, apparently, are already listening and tracking my choices in shoes, detergent, musical preferences, blood pressure, and liquor consumption.
2) The fact my grandkids found the Amazon Dots from our shop and begged me to hook them up.
Those same kids are the ones who delivered to this former teacher an epiphany. For two straight days after Alexa was activated, they have generated a steady stream of random, thoughtful questions:
“Alexa… what’s 2 + 2?”
“Alexa… what’s the temperature in Mountain Home?”
“Alexa… how does popcorn pop?”
“Alexa… what makes a rocket go up?”
“Alexa… can you say my name in Morse Code?”
“Alexa… are pine cones edible?”
“Alexa… is a python venomous?”
(Edibility and lethality are popular questions for the boy)
“Alexa… tell me a knock knock joke.”
Keep in mind, those queries are normally directed at us, and no human has the stamina to answer infinite questions, let alone generate and answer knock-knock jokes. But Alexa, bless her perennially patient programming, never tires, never fails to find an answer, and never resorts to day drinking.
The pedagogist in me began to appreciate the educational components:
– Every scientist understands that the first step in finding a quality answer lies in formulating a quality question. Even a 6-year-old quickly learns that to get a response they need to ask a specific, direct question. Rather than a stumbling statement about bananas that draws a “I do not understand your question,” he rephrases to “Alexa… are banana peels edible?” (Surprisingly, they are!)
– Learning the difference between a question and a “story.” Every elementary teacher knows the tendency of youngsters to tell a meandering story while trying to ask a question in class. Alexa can correct them dispassionately, as they quickly learn she will not talk to them unless they ask a concise, cogent question. “I’m not quite sure how to help you with that.”
-Unlike harried parents and teachers, Alexa has infinite patience. I do not exaggerate that the back-and-forth between Alexa and kids lasted a full hour, with continued engagement throughout the day.
I must admit, I, too, quickly succumbed to the software succubus. During an impending freeze, I found it convenient to formulate frequent “Alexis… what is tonight’s weather forecast?” questions.
Alexis is also adept at training me. At first I interacted with “her” as if she were a foreign exchange student who didn’t speak Texan: “Alexa… what is the current 24-hour weather forecast for Johnson City, Texas, using Fahrenheit and Imperial measurement scales in the Greenwich Mean Time Zone minus six hours?”
When I realized Alexa is more Samantha Stevens’ witch than Gladys Kravitz’s snoop, I quickly progressed to, “Alexa… what’s the forecast?”
She knew. She knew.
I am now online, all the time. Yes, I know these Artificially Intelligent aliens are spying on me, anticipating my shopping tendencies, diagnosing my prostate health, and feeding details on large cash transactions to the I.R.S. But I also know I live a life that is of absolutely no interest to anyone, with nothing to hide, and every bit of my bytes has already been mined, catalogued, and stored at an underground, guarded, climate-controlled vault in southwestern North Dakota.
I have gone 180 on AI, and willingly accept Alexa as my personal overlord and spirit guide. I eagerly await her robotic body upgrade.
XXX
Alexa… how do I contact Phil Houseal? www.FullHousePR.com