Saturday Evenings: Stay In, Sit Up and Switch On

I recently read two articles which, at first sight, were unrelated. However, when looking closer, they were both intrinsically linked even if their subjects were different.

One piece dealt with our working lives and how long we will be toiling for. In the developed world longevity is the new buzzword. We are living longer. We might not be procreating at the same rate but third age denizens are all the rage at the moment. Unintentionally, mind. We are living longer because our standards of living have also improved. We have fewer life-ending wars. A population-decimating event like the 1918-19 influenza pandemic, which killed between 20 and 40 million people, is unlikely to happen again. Whether you are in favour or against them, many modern diets provide healthy options that were unthinkable only two generations ago. That is why the recent deaths of David Bowie and Alan Rickman caught us all by surprise. They were both expected to live longer.

The second article focused on the long-heralded arrival (and conquest) of robots. Well, robots have been with us for many, many years but apparently their role in society is about to change drastically. The appropriation of the world by robots will be apparently in the form of emulations. They will be modelled on the best and brightest 200 human beings on the planet. Add quick decision-making and overall expediency and... voilà, the robot revolution is here!

Why do I think that the two pieces are related? Because if, on the one hand, we are living longer and therefore retiring at an older age, where does that leave us in relation to robots? If they are coming to take our jobs (pardon me for sounding like a Daily Mail or The Sun reader), what is left for us, the humans who breathed (metaphorically speaking) life into their metallic bodies? There seems to be a hitherto-unnoticed contradiction. Or perhaps there is no contradiction but intent.

It was John Maynard Keynes who promoted the idea that in the future we would have more time for leisure activities. Technology would take care of the daily grind. Workaholics would be looked down upon and pitied. But even one of the more important economists of the 20^th century could not predict the arrival of zero-hour contracts, outsourcing and consumerism. Together these elements (and others) sustain our on-one-leg-balancing economy. Workaholics, far from being treated with quasi-condescension, are worshipped and imitated.

Sorry, mate, but I've come to take your job

In a generation’s time, if we are still living as long as we are living today and retiring at, say, 80, what will we be exactly doing? If robots are fast taking over and within a few years they will be performing most manual and technical roles, what do we, then, do with the rest of the population? Remember that we are talking here about self-managed machines. No need for Joanna or John to go to uni for three years in order to get a degree in engineering. The robot already has an in-built function that makes it (it? How about “her” or “him”? Why not?) plan its professional life as if it were a human being. You see, the robot is emulating one of those 200 eminences grises.

As I mentioned before, the automated future has been with us for many years now. But it has never felt as threatening as it does now. I guess one of the reasons is that the world of robotics felt distant; not so much an Us vs Them scenario but more like an Us and Them. Yet, that “and” still meant distance. It is not the same now. Now there is a real possibility of Sam at the till in our local supermarket being a robot. If that means giving hot-blooded, human being, 60-year-old Susan the heave-ho, then, so be it. What happens to Susan, then? She still has another 20 years before retirement, has worked at the local supermarket for more than 30 years and is not qualified to do anything else. Where’s the Plan B here?

You can see now why these two pieces of news, which at first sight seem unrelated, scared the living hell out of me. At almost forty-five, I am no spring chicken but I think I still have another twenty-five years inside me of active toil. I love what I do and for the life of me I cannot see a robot doing my job. Then again, technology is moving at such a fast pace that I would not be surprised if one day there is a knock on the door and I open it to greet an R2-D2-looaklike with a simple message: I have come to replace you.



© 2016

Next Post: “Urban Diary”, to be published on Wednesday 1^st June at 6pm (GMT)

Road Songs (Largo)

Speed. It kills, doesn't it? That's pretty clear to me. So, why is it that when you are driving your car you can accelerate up to 100 - 120 miles per hour, if you so wish, even if the speed limit is 70mph on a motorway? That question has always baffled me, so if any of you has the answer, please, send it to me in a nice envelope with the Royal seal on it.

I sometimes go over the speed limit, but overall tend to drive slowly and defensively. The fact is that I love driving, I love going round bends as slowly as I can and soak up the perfection of a smooth turning.

Same with music. In my teens when I started to listen to rock'n'roll I realised little by little that as the 60s became the 70s and the 70s mutated into the 80s the music had at the same time turned faster. I stopped at Metallica. Slayer and the others who followed were too fast for me and my ears.

There is nothing more enjoyable than a song where the bass guitar kicks in nicely and rhythmically setting the mood for the entire piece, or where the lead singer will ease the whole band into a groove with a wave of his or her hand, in the same way a conductor does it with an orchestra. Music and driving are two pleasures that should be enjoyed without rushing the outcome. Could you imagine someone in a theatre belting out bang in the middle of a stage version of Hamlet: 'C'mon, mate, hurry up, when are you going to say the 'to be or not to be' soliloquy'? Me neither.

The songs that follow are unique in the sense that I am able to appreciate their full richness and beauty by means of the patience and focus shown by their performers. None of which is achieved by running around like a headless chicken.

Copyright 2008