Futurist

One of my work colleagues (yes, I’ve snuck back into the machine and am once again a cog) was telling me about his dream job; a futurist. As a spec fiction writer I felt more than a little embarrassed that I didn’t know such a job existed. Yes, people are getting paid lots of money to identify the micro/macro trends that are shaping our world to see where we will be in five, ten or even 100 years in the future.

Something that one of the futurists suggested was that by 2030 artificial intelligence will have evolved to the point where computers will have real personalities that will be able to hold meaningful conversations with humans. They suggested these personalities will be put into androids that people will have around the house.

I find the idea horrific, it would be the death of relationships. Imagine if you could order a ‘bot that looked like Keanu, with the intelligence of Brian Cox, the humour of Joss Whedon and you could program it to love you unconditionally. Better still, when you are busy (you know, maybe writing or something) you could just pop it in the cupboard and it wouldn’t bug you about when dinner was going to be ready.

Of course this is just a general what if, not something I would get, but really, what hope would a real person have against that? And as the person in the relationship with the robot how would you grow and learn to be a better you? Fitting in with others is what keeps us human.

In fact I’m going to go out on a limb and say I don’t think just relationships would be at risk, I think our pets should watch out too. I can’t see this technology stopping at people. Even I have to admit it would be nice for the cat to reply sometimes, I’d feel a little less crazy-cat-lady-ish.

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