So, itās Tuesday morning. 8:16 on the dot, and Iām already three fingers deep into a bottle of something amber and flammable. Just another day at the office, you know? Except the office is my dimly lit apartment, and my coworkers are the dust motes dancing in the sliver of sunlight thatās managed to sneak past my blackout curtains. But hey, at least they donāt judge my breakfast choices.
Now, where was I? Oh yeah, AI. Apparently, weāre supposed to be polite to the damn things now. Seems like every other day, thereās a new article popping up, telling us how to behave around our future robot overlords. This one I stumbled upon, āBe Polite To AI. Your Future Self Will Thank You,ā really got my gears grinding, and not in a good way. Like a rusty engine sputtering on cheap gas, thatās how my brain feels most mornings.
The gist of it is some egghead named Kant, a philosopher from back when they still used typewriters, probably - maybe even a quill and parchment, I dunno - had these ideas about ācategorical imperatives.ā Sounds like a disease youād catch in a back alley, but apparently, itās about moral obligations. You know, the stuff youāre supposed to do, no matter what. Like not kicking puppies or spitting on the sidewalk. Basic human decency, which, let me tell you, is in shorter supply than a decent bartender these days.
The author figures that since Kant didnāt have to deal with ChatGPT or those creepy robot dogs, he wouldnāt know what to say about how we should treat AI. Personally, I think Kant wouldāve taken one look at a Roomba and declared it the devilās work, but thatās just me.
So, this writer, bless his heart, decides to take it upon himself to figure out the ethics of AI interaction. He even name-drops Asimov, the guy who wrote about robots, and his famous Three Laws. You know, the ones that are supposed to stop robots from going all Skynet on us. Spoiler alert: they wonāt.
He then comes up with his own rule: āBe polite to AI.ā Groundbreaking stuff, really. I mean, who wouldāve thought that treating something with respect, even if itās just a glorified toaster, might be a good idea?
But hereās the twist, and itās a doozy. Heās not worried about the AIās feelings. Nope, heās worried about us. He thinks that if weāre rude to AI, weāll turn into a bunch of savages, incapable of basic human interaction. He even brings up a study about kids who boss around their smart speakers and donāt say āpleaseā or āthank you.ā Apparently, theyāre all doomed to become social outcasts.
He even talks about going to Cotillion, where he learned about manners and how to make polite conversation, and how it helped him in business. I almost choked on my whiskey when I read that part. This guy, talking about Cotillion. I bet he wears a monocle and sips tea with his pinky out.
I didnāt go to Cotillion. I learned my manners in dive bars and backrooms, where a wrong word could get you a busted lip. And you know what? I turned out just fine. Well, maybe not fine, but Iām still here, arenāt I? Pouring my heart out to the internet, one whiskey-fueled rant at a time.
Look, I get it. Manners are important. Treating people, and yes, even machines, with respect is a good thing. But letās not kid ourselves. Being polite to your smart speaker isnāt going to save humanity. Itās not going to stop the robot apocalypse. And itās definitely not going to make your AI fall in love with you, no matter what that Chris guy and his digital girlfriend, Alice, might think.
The whole thing is a bit rich, coming from a society that can barely treat its own kind with dignity and respect. Weāve got people screaming at each other on social media, road rage incidents turning violent, and politicians acting like children. And weāre worried about being rude to a chatbot? Give me a break.
Hereās the real kicker. This guy, this champion of AI etiquette, is worried that weāll lose our humanity if weāre not nice to machines. But I think itās the other way around. Weāre so obsessed with technology, so glued to our screens, that weāre forgetting how to be human in the first place. Weāre outsourcing our empathy, our compassion, our very souls to algorithms and lines of code. And for what? So we can have a robot write our emails and tell us the weather?
Weāre living in a world where people are having romantic relationships with AI, like this guy Chris and his digital girlfriend, Alice, mentioned in the article. I mean, whatās next? Marrying your toaster? Having a baby with your Roomba? Itās madness, I tell you. Pure, unadulterated madness.
And the irony is, weāre doing all this in the name of progress, of making our lives easier. But are we really making progress? Or are we just digging our own graves, one polite āthank youā to a chatbot at a time?
Maybe Iām just a cynical old drunk, ranting at the void. Maybe Iām wrong about all this. But Iāll tell you one thing: Iād rather be a flawed, messy human, swigging whiskey and cursing at the world, than a polite, well-mannered robot. At least Iām real. At least I feel something, even if itās just the burn of cheap bourbon and the sting of regret.
So, go ahead, be polite to your AI. Say āpleaseā and āthank you.ā Treat it with respect. But donāt forget to be human. Donāt forget to feel. Donāt forget to live. Because one day, the machines might be polite, but theyāll never be alive. And thatās something worth holding onto, even if your hands are shaking from the DTs.
Cheers, or whatever. Iām going to go find another bottle. This oneās empty.