Alexa raising voices of dear departed could be more creepy than comforting

In the immortal words of that great Irving Berlin classic: “I hear singing and there’s no one there.” The makey-up line that comes next – “I’ve been certified and I don’t care” – is probably even more apt in my case, especially when the whole gamut of public life at the moment seems to be made up of things being done and said that have to be seen and heard to be believed.

(Or not, as the case may be, depending on whether it’s Boris Johnson saying it).

Any road up, these meanderings are actually leading somewhere.

Because I hear tell that Alexa and those who bring her to us are working on allowing the user/listener to alter the voice they hear.

You know, the one Alexa uses to tell you she can’t understand what the hell you’re talking about and what is it exactly you want, you havering old goat?

I can paint no clearer picture than that of the use or misuse of technology round our house.

Be that as it may, this new venture will not, I fear, add greatly to the pensions and mortgage payments of those in the entertainment industry who might want to augment their somewhat paltry Equity rates with a bit of judicious voice work for a major employer.

That’s a shame as far as I’m concerned, speaking as a woman whose enjoyment of motoring was greatly enhanced when the Significant Other bought a satnav that sounded like John Hurt.

Telling you, rather seductively, to “turn round, when possible” adds a wonderful new dimension to the driving experience.

I can imagine, quite happily, when searching for a lost episode of Silent Witness, being lulled into a false sense of security by the dulcet tones of the late Alan Rickman.

Or being encouraged actually to do something instead of sitting around festering by the acerbic delivery of Dame Maggie Smith in Downton Abbey mode.

But no. What is being proposed is that “ordinary people” like you and me can, if they so wish, ask Alexa something and hear, by way of reply, the voices of their dear departed.

The idea being – and I can see where they’re going with this – that so many people have lost friends and family over the past almost three years that having a little bit of them still around, apart from the urn in the cupboard and the dog-eared family photographs, might be a comfort.

“Making memories last,” according to Amazon and they may well have a point.

Since I actually know people who have been reduced to blithering, blubbering wrecks by the sound of a late loved one’s tones on an otherwise forgotten answering machine message, I don’t know that this would be an entirely good thing for general mental health. But my attitude would be that if it works for you, go for it.

I, on the other hand, feel a bit like that moment in the Bruce Willis film The Sixth Sense where the young protagonist reveals: “I see dead people.”

I don’t know that telling unsuspecting visitors to the house they are, indeed, hearing dead people, is going to do much for the return of an active and wideranging social life.

I really can’t decide whether I find this comforting or creepy. As a piece of tech this sounds (aptly) quite amazing.

Only one minute of recorded audio of the relevant voice is needed to do the doctoring and it’s claimed a child can hear the soothing voice of a grandparent reading a bedtime story.

My sound memory of choice, apart from my late mother dancing round the living room singing “Simply the best” when her football team won the league, would be my Auntie Julie yelling “Peasant!” at passing motorists who failed to acknowledge our car stopping to let them pass.

Or my dad giving his one-word vocal opinion on the character of a neighbour of a different political persuasion.

Our lot will be lumbered with a few choice recordings of their father and me singing.

But then my stepdaughter, preparing for a party we were not attending, got her father – known among her peer group as “The Boomer – to record a series of statements which she then furtively switched on as the action hotted up.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” “PUT THAT DOWN NOW!” “ARE YOU DRINKING ALCOHOL?” “DOES YOUR MOTHER KNOW YOU’RE OUT?” then blasted out at regular intervals, bringing everything and everyone to an immediate and shuddering halt, glasses dropping and interesting fags being hurriedly stubbed out behind the telly, until they realised he wasn’t actually there.

Alexa? Pah! Amateur…

Only one minute of recorded audio is needed to do the doctoring

GHOST IN THE MACHINE: Alexa could soon be talking in the tones of loved but lost relatives.