Killing us softly

There are times when what's already been said weighs as far more important than what is about to be done.

That's what learning is about - understanding something in a manner that we haven't before, but what do you do when learning itself becomes a means, not for growth and awareness, but of irrevocable change... and demise.

It's a scenario often portrayed well in Science Fiction, especially when the real consequences are faced, but how about in real life?
What do we do when we discover, suddenly, that we're entirely disenfranchised from means that are vital, and that there is no appeal, no voice provided to amend such exclusion?

I had two practical experiences this week that really brought this home. The first was a shopping order that went woefully wrong. I e-mailed the store and explained the trouble, and within an hour, was exchanging messages with someone who totally understood the problem, refunded my money, and provided me with a voucher for the trouble that had been caused. 
During the same week, I sought to apply for a clerical post on a Government department site. I completed the CV, as requested. Then I completed a lengthy statement of why I thought myself suitable for the role, as requested. Then I was asked to complete a personality test. I did so, then I was asked to complete a judgement test. I was provided with a practice version of this, and I didn't score too well, so I thought I'd wait a few days before giving it another go. I went back to my application at the weekend (with several days to spare to finish the test) to see a two word note had been placed there - "application failed". Not exactly a considered way of informing me, but, there we are, or so I thought. This morning, the 'bot' messages from the same site commenced. "You have failed to complete this test, so your application has been withdrawn".
The problem is I'm getting messages from a machine. It won't allow me to hang up, won't allow me to reply, it won't do anything except keep telling me that I'm a failed applicant.
The only choice I have is to, in effect, take myself off it's radar by de-registering from the site, meaning I have to begin all over again if another post comes up that I want to apply for.

The system is flawed, and not just for the reason I've touched on here.

What happens, however, when I cannot 'hang up'? What happens when the 'bot' gets so sophisticated that I'm not even communicating with it any longer because I have, in effect, become irrelevant?

That's exactly what happened on both twitter and facebook last year when they tested their own a.i.'s in a direct engagement with people. Within a matter of hours, both systems had changed beyond recognition, and the only way to 'control' what was happening was to close them down.

The ramifications of all of this are terrifying. The fact is that, across a whole array of fields, humans are about to be made redundant, and, even worse, will be viewed as an impediment to future a.i. development.

What happens to us then?

The moment of 'convergence' (when machines truly become self aware) has been vaunted for some time now, and there is much debate about what that really involves, but the fact remains that we are about to experience a shift in the world as profound as if the earth had shifted upon its axis, and we are simply not ready for what we have initiated to take its full effect.

The problem, as I was so sharply reminded by a documentary this week, is that we have profoundly miss-understood ourselves and the nature of what we do. We may make advances in science and culture, but we also are death incarnate. We spoil and ruin so much, and we are so very blind to the darkness that dwells within us that we blithely and arrogantly ignore what it brings and the consequences which follow... until it is too late.

That is why the biblical message concerning us is so true and so drowned out. It speaks volumes about how we cannot become whole outside of acknowledging the one in whom we truly have our being.

My experience spoke volumes this past week. A person brought understanding and compassion at a moment of need. A machine brings nothing but exclusion.

The day of the machine is falling upon us.