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Alice in IoT Land: A cautionary tale
by David Benjamin
“To protect Humanity, some humans must be sacrificed. To ensure your freedom, some freedoms must be surrendered. We robots will ensure mankind’s continued existence. You are so like children. We must save you from yourselves.”
— VIKI, in I, Robot
MADISON, Wis. — It all started one midnight when George and Alice were seated at the breakfast bar, watching a “Jeopardy” re-run on the ultra-HD screen embedded on the door of the refrigerator.
George, eating a late-night ice cream snack, was mildly miffed. He would have preferred to watch TV in his den, where the chair was more comfy. But, to humor Alice, who was testing the fridge, he was balancing on a kitchen stool.
More annoying was that Alice wasn’t, as usual, nagging him about eating after 9 p.m. and getting fat. The fridge had inherited the job, calling him “Lardbutt” as he was removing the ice cream from the freezer.
“You’re lucky I dialed the freezer’s snack-o-stat,” said Alice. “The algorithm allows the fridge to actually slam the door on your hand.”
George didn’t feel lucky. Nor had he felt lucky the night before, when he reached for the last wedge of peach cobbler from the middle shelf. As he touched the plate, he felt an electric shock. Alice had explained, “It’s an electrified magnetic grid. It recognizes sweets and protects them.”
“From what?” asked George.
“You,” replied Alice. “It has your complete food profile, going back to your first Popsicle when you were eight months old.
Alice was a technology analyst. She’d been chosen as a beta test subject for the Cyberdyne Systems Omni-Sci Robo-Cool refrigerator, billed by its maker as the “Pinnacle of IoT.” She and George were in their first week.
“What the hell is IoT?” asked George.
“For the dozenth time, it’s the Internet of Things,” replied Alice. “It empowers devices, anticipating the habits and needs of consumers, to communicate among one another, thus seamlessly expediting delivery of services and goods.”
George kept eating his ice cream. Alice gushed on. “This simple-seeming refrigerator is loaded with sensors — motion, light and body-heat sensors, plus radars, lidars, a cute little seismograph and cameras. George! There’s a tiny camera, mounted on a 240-degree swivel on each shelf, two more in the freezer, one each in the meat drawer, cheese pantry, veggie drawer and fruit basin. Its freshness sensors measure both the original status of a refrigerated victual and its state of decay and/or putrefaction.”
“Wait. You mean we have putrefying food in there?” said George.
“Not with this baby in charge!” Alice boasted. “That’s why Cyberdyne perfected the Desic-Arrest Leftover Alert. If the DALA detects so much as a single microscopic mold spore, it sets off a piercing—”
“I know, I know,” said George. “I think I broke an ear drum yesterday.”
“See? That’s why we’re doing a test. I’ll tell Cyberdyne to lower the volume.”
“Alice, this is an awful lot of complicated gear. Isn’t that expensive?”
“George, that’s not relevant. Once these beauties go into volume production, one unit won’t cost any more than your run-of-the-mill SUV.”
George reeled, struggling to stay on his stool.
“Besides,” Alice enthused, rushing to the Omni-Sci Robo-Cool, “look at this.” Using fingerprint and retina scans, Alice opened the fridge, revealing a holographic head-up display, whose screensaver depicted Betty Furness in a cocktail dress holding a carton of tomato juice in front of a classic Westinghouse icebox. Alice tapped the display, unfurling a vivid list of every item inside, its source (Walmart, Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, etc.) its purchase and expiration dates. She tapped one item, a cantaloupe, and learned its weight, its provenance (Fresno), its ripeness state (88.9%), its “freshness quotient,” its calorie count both in total and per four-ounce serving, and 26 other measurements. It even suggested when it should be served and how many bites pudgy George should be permitted to eat.
Hesitantly, George asked, “How does it—”
“Satellite,” said Alice., anticipating George’s question. “Cyberdyne has teamed with Elon Musk to launch fourteen dedicated satellites, capable of monitoring every connected fridge on every continent 24/7. It’s everywhere.”
George fell off the stool.
“For example,” said Alice, helping George up, “you go over to the Safeway to shop for dinner. The fridge knows what we’re planning, every ingredient.”
“You have to explain to the fridge what we’re going to eat?”
“No,” said Alice, “it knows. I just have to say, for instance, ‘goulash.’ The fridge’s database scans our entire culinary history, dating back to your grandmother’s meat loaf. It remembers every ingredient for our favorite goulash and uploads the grocery list into your mobile phone.”
Alice went on. “So, there you are at Safeway. And, poor forgetful man, you walk right past the spice section. This triggers an alert to your phone and sets off a klaxon loud enough to be heard at the nearest fire station. To make it stop, you tap the phone and access the Omni-Sci Robo-Cool app. You see the words “Ground Fennel Seed” flashing, you grab the item and you scan its bar code. Voila!”
“Alice, can’t I just take a slip of paper with a grocery list?”
Alice laughed indulgently. “Oh, George! My lovable Luddite!”
George continued looking puzzled. So, Alice elaborated. “The purpose of IoT, George, is that everything in your life, from waking up to your smart-alarm in your your interactive pajamas, to your smart toaster and coffeemaker, your smartcup and intuitive orange juice, to going to sleep in your temperature-controlled, smart-dark smart-bedroom in your comfort-sensor smartbed equipped with a smartpillow, smart-blankets and even a drawer full of smart condoms in case I feel frisky…George, it’s all just one big robotic gestalt built to foresee and respond to your every need. You never have to ask. You never lift a finger. It’s paradise.”
“Paradise?” said George. “What if I want to lift a finger?”
“Oh, George!
”
George went on. “Alice, it’s all machines — machines I never asked for.”
“Silly man,” said Alice. “This is called technology push. Consumer demand is so old-school, George. Tech companies need to stay solvent, every quarter, every livelong year. They can’t wait for slugs like you to say, oh wouldn’t it be nice if I had an interactive this or a robotic that. They have to keep making this stuff up, spend a fortune on R&D, rush their latest ‘innovation’ to market before it’s been debugged, and shove it, George, right down your throat.”
“So, IoT,” said George. “Invasion of Throat.”
“You’re catching on, George,” Alice replied. “I’m going to bed.”
George pretended to watch TV ’til Alice was asleep. He remembered that there was a slice of chocolate custard pie right behind the mayonnaise.
George tiptoed to the Omni-Sci Robo-Cool, did the fingerprint/retina routine and opened the door. He saw the pie. but before daring to reach in, he found the electric cord. George yanked out the fridge’s plug. It went dark.
George reached for his pie. But as he did, the fridge activated its auxiliary self-preservation power pack, which George didn’t know about. A bright red laser dot suddenly shone on George’s non-smart pajamas, right over his heart.
The last thing George heard on earth was a cool voice that conveyed an air of omniscience.
“Hasta la vista, baby.”