The secret weapon of the robots – cuteness
TECHNOLOGY is improving every facet of our lives. For example, most things are now so complicated that no one expects you to fix them, which is great news for young people, who may be spared the shame I experienced as a student when we needed an adjustable wrench.
Combined, three boys and a girl had a tool kit comprising a screwdriver, torch and toenail clippers, so we had to ask Brian, the retired oil rigger in the flat across the way, if he could lend us one.
‘You don’t have a wrench?’ he said incredulously, his jaw hitting a barrel chest which was bare, even in February, as nature intended.
After that, he began dropping off muffins and cardigans his grandchildren had given him. ‘Not my thing,’ he’d say, unloading them onto Alan or Jason, when we sent them to answer the door.
‘Bit soft. Thought you boys could use them.’
I’m no technophobe but the march towards high-tech homes has probably been hampered on several occasions by consumer panic.
In 2001: A Space Odyssey, the disembodied voice of HAL 9000 demonstrated that the same intelligent technology that turns on lights could also kill our fellow astronauts and lock us into outer space.
And in 1977, Scots director Donald Cammell introduced Demon Seed, and the possibility that computerised home systems might sound like Robert Vaughn and trap you in the house in order to bear their android child.
ITHOuGHT of this just the other day, when the motionsensitive lights in the living room kept flickering up and down in a manner that suggested the machines of the world were limbering up to take over mankind, but it turned out to be a lovestruck wasp hovering over the dimmer switch.
What do we want from an automated house? A recent survey indicated most adults want remotecontrolled music, TV and lights and a warning when they leave home if an appliance hasn’t been switched off. It’s not exactly I, Robot, is it?
This month, however, Amazon has launched Echo, a voicecontrolled personal assistant that contains wi-fi, two speakers and seven microphones that learn to NIGEL Farage was unleashed at the weekend to make his case for Brexit again on the Andrew Marr show. ‘Don’t you remember, years ago, cheap butter? Lamb from New Zealand?’ Somehow he forgot to mention British Leyland, avocados as a starter, rickets and East End gangsters who loved their mums. recognise your voice so you can yell requests at it to play music, read the news, set alarms or book a cab.
Like the computer Orac in British sci-fi classic Blake’s 7, it lights up to show it is awake and answers you back.
But like Simon Says, it only swings into action when you use its name, Alexa, which is derived from the Greek for ‘Demon Seed’.
These are things you can already do with a smartphone, of course, but because Alexa is always listening, it learns as you use it more, works out your favourite commands and lets other people in the house sneak Auntie Bessie’s roast potatoes onto the online shopping list.
‘Aren’t you a little bit worried that effectively Alexa allows Amazon to bug the house and mine our data?’ I asked, as my mouse floated over the Buy Now icon.
‘And what about Her, the movie where Joaquin Phoenix falls in love with his online desktop assistant and takes her out on dates?’
‘If Alexa comes with the voice, or any other part, of Scarlett Johansson,’ said the person at the other end of the sofa thoughtfully, ‘I think we should buy two.’