CANTANKEROUSLY YOURS
by Wendell Abern
The End of Science Fiction
Dear Trekkies, and Other Such Buffs,
For my thirteenth birthday, at my request, my parents bought me subscriptions to all four science fiction magazines. One weekly, three monthlies. Not a big expense, really, and a lot cheaper than a bicycle or new fielder’s mitt. I read each one of those publications, cover to cover, as soon as they came out.
In those days, almost all magazines actually published short stories.
Not just articles, but short stories, frequently by famous writers. The SF magazines I loved carried new short pieces by Asimov, Heinlein, Bradbury and my favorite, the long-forgotten Frederic Brown.
What incredible imaginations these writers had! More than 60 years ago, they wrote of landings on the moon, rockets to other planets, lightning-fast computers, and robots that would fight fires and do housework.
Those feats are no longer fiction. Science fiction is science fact today. Science fiction, as we knew it back in the day, no longer exists. Today’s SF writers are way beyond that. They’re into time travel. Machines that think. Immortality. And other incredible realms that we mere mortals can’t even imagine.
All of this became clear to me the other day as I read an article about the capabilities of today’s robots. Robert Boyd, of Tribune News, wrote that, “Thanks to exponential increases in computer power – roughly doubling
every two years – robots are getting smarter, more capable, more like people.”
Matching human skills is enormously daunting, perhaps impossible according to Boyd. However, he writes that “robots guided by their own computer ‘brains’ can now land jumbo jets, steer cars through city traffic, search human DNA for cancer genes, play soccer and explore craters on Mars.”
Wait a minute.
Land jumbo jets?
Ain’t no robot gonna land a jumbo jet that I’m on, thank you. As I’m reading this article, I envision a phone call to my airline prior to my next flight.
“Good afternoon, Fly-By-Night Airlines, how may I help you?”
“I’d like to know the name of the pilot on my flight.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“I am not flying anywhere with you if my pilot’s name is Robotspierre or Robogorgle or something like that.”
“Sir, we’re not allowed to give out the name of our pilots.”
“I am not flying with a robot as my pilot!”
I imagine receiving assurances. And then I start wondering … how do I know I’m not talking to a robot?
Boyd’s article continues: “At a recent ‘Robobusiness’ conference in Boston, companies demonstrated a robot firefighter, gardener, receptionist, tour guide and security guard. You name it, a high-tech wizard somewhere is trying to make a robot do it.”
A Japanese housekeeping robot, for example, can move chairs, sweep the floor and load a tray of dirty dishes in a dishwasher. Intel has developed a mobile robot called Herb, the Home Exploring Robotic Butler. Herb can recognize faces and carry out generalized commands such as, “Please clean this mess.”
The electronic wizards have already figured out ways for our cars to give us audible directions. One assumes it is only a matter of time before they program robots to speak.
Imagine, for example, a Store Monitor Robot, shouting, “Aisle two, express lane, no more than ten items, but we have a drooler with thirteen.”
An “Athlete’s Pal” Robot, programmed to handle post-game interviews: “I owe everything to my teammates, because, you know, we’re
all on the same page, everybody gives 110%, and at the end of the day, you know, that’s the bottom line.”
A Jewish Mother Robot: “If you’re going to the swimming pool this afternoon, wear a hat, slather yourself with sunblock every ten minutes, and watch out for rip currents!”
A Psychiatrist Robot, programmed to answer all questions with, “What are your feelings about that?”
A Couch Potato Surrogate Robot for husbands: “Honey, as long you’re up, make me a sandwich, bring me some more chips and a couple more beers, walk the dog, take out the garbage and wash the car.”
A Couch Potato Response Robot for Wives: (Nothing that can be printed in a family publication.)
A Surrogate Robot for kids: “But I did do my homework! It’s not my fault if the dog ate it!”
A Drill Sergeant Robot: “Comp’ny, haddap hup! G’dop boppa chompa!”
And the robot that makes me quake with fear – an Editor Robot:
“It’s due tomorrow!” “That’s your idea of a good lead?” “I want to see all your sources!” “You ever hear of a thing called ‘Spellcheck,’ you idiot?” “A college sophomore could write a better headline than that!”
Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
Clearly, the uses for robots are endless. In a talk last year titled, “Crossing the Chasm Between Humans and Machines: the Next 40 Years,” Justin Rattner, Intel’s chief technology officer, gave some credibility to the often-ridiculed effort to make machines as smart as people.
“It’s conceivable,” he said, “that machines could even overtake humans in their ability to reason in the not-so-distant future.”
Personally, I can name some humans whose reasoning abilities have already been surpassed.
Perhaps the most surprising piece of news in this article was this observation by Paul Saffo, a technology forecaster at Stanford University:
People actually become emotionally attached to their robots!
Two-thirds of the people who own Roombas, the floor-sweeping robots, give them names. And one-third actually take their Roombas on vacation with them!
It can’t be far off before robots become co-respondents in divorce cases.
What an amazing world awaits my grandchildren. Between the computers, the robots and technology yet to be discovered, they will be able to do anything they want without ever getting out of bed!
Well, hopefully I’ll be gone by the time someone comes up with a robot that writes humor columns.
Cantankerously Yours,
Wendell Abern
Wendell Abern can be reached at [email protected].