Hey Siri. Are We Good?
Artificial intelligence could kill all humans in the next decade experts warn. The Guardian
Greater than 10% chance that AI could kill all humanity. The San Francisco Chronicle
The AI apocalypse is closer than you think. The barista who makes my latte
These were just a few of the doomsday predictions made this week after an Anthropic employee quit the company in an online post that went viral for his expressed fear of humankind annihilation. The headlines were instant, ubiquitous, and terrifying. How did the helpful resource I ask about treating red wine stains, booking a dog-friendly hotel in Lisbon, or why not to touch a beached baby seal – it’s a long story - turn out to be such a major buzzkill? So I did a deep dive. And after careful study of the reported facts, and a sober assessment of reams of expert testimony, I think I can safely say:
We are fucked.
The future just got a whole lot shorter. And to think I had been spending precious hours fretting about going to my Aunt Judy’s retirement party in New Jersey. In retrospect that seems like such a waste of time. And by waste of time I mean going to the party, not the fretting. Life is suddenly on the clock and I can’t spend my final moments in a windowless West Orange senior community party room. Listen Judy, we were never that close, you’re not my real aunt, and being an Uber driver isn’t a job you actually retire from. So see you next time, Aunt Judy…unless those killer robots see you first!
Apparently, the silver lining of impending murderous androids is that now we can live our truth and be straightforward about how we choose to spend our time. All those excuses to avoid this party or that event are, as of this moment, unnecessary, superfluous even. It is now entirely acceptable to politely decline any invitation with just a simple “I would have loved to, but robots are coming to kill me soon.”
And, if I’m looking at the glass half full, these robots have liberated us. Long-term effects of Ozempic? Who cares…sign me up! Quitting smoking? For what reason? 30 year-mortgage? Joke’s on you.
My fall project was to spend weeks digitizing my baby photo albums for my children to have for posterity, and for their children. Well, so much for that. Instead, I’m going to make many, very cold pitchers of dirty martinis and drink them. My liver has about 10 good years left and I plan to use every last bit of it. Though at the rate I’m going, that could be as early as next Thursday.
I’ve watched a fair share of dystopian robots-take-over-the-world movies. But I’m still unclear as to what can stop an unfeeling non-human death machine – which is also what I call my personal trainer – and what a gal like me, who is frequently without molten steel, high tech weaponry, or time travel capabilities, might do. Do I say Jumanji? Press Control + Q? Explain that I made a firm commitment to digitize my baby photo albums? I feel very out of my depth here.
So until we know what wicked fate is heading our way, and how to combat these mechanical monsters, consider me out. O-U-T. I’ve revised my 10-year plan and it doesn’t include your niece’s bat mitzvah. It actually doesn’t include any bat mitzvahs. Or baby showers…which I think we can all agree are a total snooze and I need to keep my wits sharp in order to suss out assassin robots. Yes, I’ll still come to your wedding but keep the vows short. And no more saying “you’re my person.” I’m over it. Similarly, I’m canceling my personal trainer, therapist, green drinks, vitamins, visits to the DMV, tax filing, and grocery shopping. I want a diet of Reese’s peanut butter cups and sangria and I want to move to Miami where everyone has always lived like time on planet Earth is fleeting and the only antidotes are ultra-short, tight dresses and high strappy shoes. Hoping that Ozempic kicks in ASAP! And if by chance I’m wrong about the robots and our bleak future, and if the experts have overstated the case or misrepresented the dire predictions, well, then…I’ll be back.
