Consider
the true story of Sabine Morceau, who left her home in Belgium on a trip to
pick up a friend in Brussels, about 90 miles away. She dutifully followed the
directions her GPS gave her, but because she was distracted—that’s what she
claims—she didn’t notice that the GPS had led her astray until she was in
Zagreb, Croatia. It took her two days to drive those 900 miles. One naturally
wonders if Sabine should have had a driver’s license in the first place, but even
so, the technology really let her down. Big time.
On
a few occasions I’ve found that the speech recognition software in my
smartphone has stubbornly failed to correctly interpret my voice, even when
carefully enunciated with perfect diction. I don’t recall the specifics, but it
goes something like this: “Directions to ONE FIF-TY WAL-NUT LANE, GREER, SOUTH
CAR-O-LINA.” “I’m sorry, I can’t find one fife piglet in Greer, South
Carolina.” Another tech failure.
Today
I asked my smartphone a very simple question: “Why are you a nincompoop?” She promptly
translated it as “Why are you an income poop?” While I found this rather
amusing (and I struggled to remember whether Bernie Sanders had ever said this
to Donald Trump during the recent presidential primary), it’s just another
example of how temperamental and unpredictable speech recognition algorithms can
be. And I’m supposed to believe that voice-controlled autonomous automobiles
will be good for society.
This
week Ford Motor Company announced that it will be selling fully autonomous cars
in five years. Reports indicate that these automobiles won’t have steering
wheels, gas pedals, or brake pedals, which means that people won’t be able to
control these cars. This makes some of Ford’s past advertising slogans
laughably obsolete. Things like “Everything we do is driven by you” and “Have
you driven a Ford lately?” No, I haven’t. It won’t let me. What will the new
slogan be? “Have you not driven a Ford lately?”
I
started daydreaming about what it would be like to have my very own autonomous
Ford. I’ll name him Henry, and then Carla and I will boldly set out to go where
no autonomous automobile has gone before. Here’s what I’m expecting from our
first outing.
“Henry, let’s drive to the
campus of Bob Jones University.”
“OK, Brian, I’ll take you
there. And while I’m driving, I’m going to show you some fascinating videos
that illustrate how much autonomous vehicles will improve the quality of life in
America.”
Henry started the engine,
backed out the garage, and proceeded up the driveway. He turned on his screen
and began to show videos of Americans in autonomous cars happily using their
smartphones while completely ignoring traffic. Some of them were putting on
makeup; others were eating. They didn’t manually use their turn signals, and many
behaved as if they were the only people on the road. Something about this
seemed oddly familiar, but it was all so fascinating that I became deeply
absorbed and didn’t notice how much progress we had made. We were already heading
down North Pleasantburg Drive near Sunshine
Cycle Shop and were only about a half-mile from campus.
“Carla, look, look! I’m not
driving! I’m not driving!”
“Yes, dear, that’s very
interesting. Can we go somewhere to eat now?”
“Henry, take us to Henry's Smokehouse on Wade Hampton
Boulevard.”
“I’m sorry, Brian, I’m
afraid I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s against EPA
regulations for me to smoke at my house. Haven’t you heard about the VW
diesel scandal?”
“Yes, yes, and we own one of
those cars, but the scandal has to do with nitrogen oxides, not smoke. Don’t
you know how to read? And besides, you’re not a diesel, anyway. And it’s a
restaurant, not your house.”
“Look, Brian, I have a
better idea, and I think you should go along with it.”
At this point Henry turned
into the IHOP (formerly known as the
International House of Pancakes®) parking lot. He loaded the menu
and showed it on his screen.
“I recommend you try the
cheeseburger omelette. With 1450
calories and 104 g of fat it’s an outstanding energy source.”
“Henry, we don’t want
cheeseburger omelettes. And we don’t want to go to IHOP, either.”
“But Brian, IHOP makes
high-quality food. And remember, quality is job one.”
“HENRY!! We don’t want to go
to IHOP! Drive us out of here, NOW!!”
“OK, Brian, but I’m concerned
about your frame of mind. I’m going to take you home for a cooling off period. After
you’ve settled down for a couple hours I’ll be glad to take you out again. I
have more videos, too.”
Brian (agitated): “HENRY,
WHY ARE YOU BEING SUCH A NINCOMPOOP?”
At this moment we happened to
be driving past a TD Bank (America’s Most Convenient Bank®), and
Henry turned in and picked the spot nearest the front door.
“Brian, the nice people at
this place can help you with your income poops.”
“AAARGH!! Where’s the
Tylenol®?”
