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Can a message generated by an algorithm ever match hearing from a human?
Humans and machines ... they’re not the same yet, right? We recognize a difference. A big difference, in my estimation. The difference between a plumber at your door and frantically thumbing through a fix-it manual. The difference between a lover and pornography. A very big difference.
Maybe the distinction is hiding in plain sight, overlooked in the general hurrah for artificial intelligence. The chasm, still, between something from a real person and something from an algorithm. Or is that an antique distinction?
Last Saturday I received an email from CHICAGO SUN-TIMES MEDIA INC. It read:
“Happy 37th Work Anniversary Neil Steinberg! Congratulations on another successful year with CHICAGO SUN-TIMES MEDIA INC. Your dedication and hard work continue to inspire us. Here’s to more achievements and growth in the coming years!”
Time to play “You be the Columnist.” Reading that, I felt a) embraced, recognized and loved by my bosses and peers; b) slightly amused and a little impressed that someone would bother programming this generic boilerplate flattery into the payroll system to be automatically spat out on anniversaries or c) a blast of chill wind blowing across the barren hearth of modern life.
Hint: Not “a.”
Perhaps in recognition of that third choice, there was, below the email, a big orange button reading “See who’s Celebrating.” Click it, and you’re brought to Paylocity, the payroll system. In case anyone was so moved, a few helpful hints were offered. “Happy anniversary!” “Congrats!” “Appreciate You!” and “Thank You!” and a counter showing “0 Comments.”
This isn’t a complaint. I don’t believe, while plugging my hours into the payroll system, I’ve ever noticed, never mind clicked, to wish a colleague “happy anniversary.” My guess is they aren’t crying in their pillows.
I’m certainly not. We newspaper folks have to be made of stronger stuff; independent and self-motivating. The profession has been in crisis for so long. It’s like Alec Baldwin showed up one rainy day in 2009 and began giving that “Coffee’s for closers” speech from “Glengarry Glen Ross,” and has been at it ever since.
“Oh, have I got your attention now?” he says. “Second prize is a set of steak knives. Third prize is you’re fired.”
I actually got a set of steak knives from the paper once. Displayed in a maple block. German knives. Quite nice. Still got ’em.
Human effort still matters — the cake someone baked for you is more appreciated than the cake they picked up at Jewel. In the late 1980s I took a leave to work on a book. “I hope you come back,” editor-in-chief Kenny Towers said. “Because I always thought you could be our next Sydney J. Harris.” Nobody is going to program an algorithm to do that.
Given how difficult it is for humans to act human, I’m not that concerned about AI replacing us any time soon. The question is how much non-humanness we’ll accept. I have no problem booking my airplane ticket through a website. Would I plan a funeral the same way?
We’ll find out. Maybe people will prefer this new lack of the human element. “No awkward, face-to-face conversations,” the radio commercial for a medical service boasted. The business model of HassleLess Mattress is that customers prefer a store with no employees, or as the company itself puts it, “no pushy sales guy.”
I still want to deal with a clerk. One reason social media — Facebook, X, etc. — has shriveled in appeal is because commercial hucksterism has crowded out individuals you actually know. It seems pointless, like waving at people on billboards.
That said, if you believe artificial fellowship can’t replace the living, consider teddy bears. Not technology, per se, but still an inanimate surrogate. They aren’t real, but the comfort they convey to children is very real. And like any new development, when teddy bears first became popular, some saw dire possibilities.
“A few social commentators saw teddy bears as ominous,” Smithsonian Magazine noted. “They feared that some girls’ preference for soft animals over humanlike dolls would become all-consuming, replacing the female urge to nurture babies — and eventually lead to childless marriages.
In 1907, the Rev. Michael G. Esper of Michigan warned his congregation that “the fad for supplanting the good old dolls of our childhood with the horrible monstrosity known as the teddy bear” would lead to falling birthrates.
We smile at that now. Although: The American birthrate was about 30 per 1,000 in 1907. Now it’s 14 per 1,000. Less than half. Maybe it was the teddy bears.