Where We're Going, We Don't Need Roads... or Friends, Apparently

Over my academic life, I have been required to read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein twice, for two separate courses, two separate teachers leading separate class discussions. The first was for AP Literature in high school, the second was for a freshman seminar in college. Students of every level have been unable to escape a curriculum void of the novel for generations not just for its classic status, but its relevancy. In a world where the scope of technology is expanding more frequently than people Tweet, there is sound reason to worry about a day when being human is not only inferior, but detrimental.

To be a scientist today carries endless possibilities. Some take up with manageable projects like stem cell research or discovering potential Alzheimer cures. Others reach beyond infinity, with hopes of engineering immortality and resurrecting late parents. These folk are at the helm of Singularity, a technological movement preparing the population for a future where artificial intelligence (in a currently undefined state) will be the supreme ruling force.

The Victor Frankenstein in this story is a Mr. Raymond Kurzweil, innovator/entrepreneur/face of Singularity’s PR department. Kurzweil has, for forty years now, been awaiting the day when science will allow for the resurrection of his dead father via miscellaneous writings, photos and DNA plus whatever super computer the Singularity-makers of Tomorrow churn out. Kurzweil’s dream echoes the greedy ambition of Dr. Frankenstein’s, and I can only imagine that to revive the long-gone would create a mess of ethical, safety and livelihood concerns. To be human means to be finite, any recreation of that through manipulated genes and a V-chip is not the same. Raymond’s father would come back not as dear old Dad, but Dad 3.0. I’d take the memory any day.

I took a look at Kurzweil’s multi-faceted website and was instantly drawn to the “chat with Ramona 4.0” page. There I was invited to gab with a virtual woman whose personality could be altered on levels of “whimsicality” and “nerdiness” to suit one’s conversational needs. I left her personality untouched and started small: “How are you?,” “How old are you?” She’s 21, and everything was going smoothly. We hit our first miscommunication when I asked where she was from. A blank response bubble sprouted. I asked again, another baby blank. I tried a new inquiry, what she did in her spare time: “I read Wikipedia.” It was better than a non-answer. Finally, “Do you have any friends?” Her response, sad but inarguably true, “Where would I get friends?”

If Ramona is any sort of precursor to the type of life form Singularity pupils are planning on birthing, then the future is more bleak than frightening. As Ashlee Vance expressed in The New York Times, “The underlying premise of the Singularity responds to people’s insecurity about the speed of social and technological change…” From cell phones the size of bricks to potato chip-thin computers in only a few years is drastic; our insecurity is warranted. Kurzweil and company feel that the way to trump this insecurity is by controlling the forces that someday will control us---this doesn’t seem foolproof. Think of this ubiquitous scene: two cars driving down a road, one passes the other and speeds up when a red light is visibly feet away. Everyone is aware of the heights technology can reach, why not take our time in getting there? If artificiality is the future, let us savor what unadulterated humanity is left.