Cybernetics - do we really want to go there?

Paying for my groceries the other day I was struck by the incompatibility between the speed of my thought and actions, and the speed at which the machine responded.

If I was to try to match Trish's speed (I've decided all those machines are called Trish - they should have a badge to that effect with "Here to help" written underneath it), I would have be moving like a drunken sloth when I took items from the trolley, across the scanner and into the bagging area, and like that little rodent thing in Ice Age getting my wallet closed and away, my receipt, my change, and my goods out of the bagging area in the microseconds allowed between

"Please take your receipt and change"

"Thank you for shopping with ..." and

"Please take your bags"



Unexpected item in bagging area!











It's as if someone programmed the thing to have a phobia about groceries in its bagging area; it is only with great reluctance that it recognises that they're there in the first place and can't wait to spit them out again at the first possible opportunity.

And what kind of phrase is "bagging area" anyway? I bet no-one ever used it before the advent of Trish.

So I thought, why don't we have some kind of cybernetic link between the customer and the machine so that it can match my speed? A painless little operation, a chip in the side of the head that interfaces with the device and we're away. I might not even need to remember my PIN anymore.

Then I went back to work and used Lync and I changed my mind.

If you haven't used Lync before, it's a form of electronic surveillance disguised as an instant messaging service. Sure, you can send half thought-out missives to colleagues and disturb them just when they're trying to concentrate or call them and steal time from their day at random intervals; so it has all the features of a modern communication device. However, it also monitors what you're doing. If you're in a meeting, the little box next to your name goes red. If you're available, it goes green. If you're inactive - and here's the kicker - it goes orange.

So, if you're slacking, the boss can know about it. Previously, the boss had to actually catch you with your feet up on the desk reading the paper. Now, the combined nightmares of George Orwell and Jeremy Bentham are made real with a well designed user interface and a veneer of usefulness. The boss could be on safari in a yurt somewhere but, if she's got an internet connection, she can know if you're goofing off!

Imagine how much worse it would be if there was a cyber connection? You'd start to get statuses like

Or maybe little automated instant messages

"Teresa is hoping you die"

"Incoming sexual fantasy from Belinda. Accept or Reject"

Or it could deliver mixed messages 

Bob's voice is saying "I think your idea has some real merit" 

While his status reads 

"Lying"

It could really ruin the work environment, not to mention cost the company a fortune in stationery and plastering as staplers are flung at people's heads. 

On the whole, I don't need to know that much about what my colleagues are really thinking.

I think I'll suffer through the frustration of the bagging area, after all.

Notes:

George Orwell, of course, invented Big Brother and the telescreen. Jeremy Bentham invented the panopticon - a prison of unparalleled inhumanity, designed so that the inmates could be monitored at any time.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panopticon