Programming insights to Storytelling, it's all here.
You’ve probably heard of the Trolly Problem. It’s that classic ethical dilemma where you have to choose between saving five people by sacrificing one or doing nothing and letting five die. It’s a favorite of philosophers, ethicists, and anyone who wants to sound deep at a dinner party. But here’s the thing: when it comes to self-driving cars, the trolley problem is pretty much irrelevant. Why? Because self-driving cars don’t work the way the trolley problem assumes they do. Let’s break it down.
When someone says, “Everything is getting more expensive,” what does that actually mean? Rising prices are easy to observe, but quantifying their impact on daily life requires a deeper look at how income shapes our perception of affordability.
When it comes to generative content, whether it’s video, audio, or images, there’s one group that’s been quick to embrace these tools with open arms: spammers.
I used to pride myself on being the "Google expert." I’d snatch keyboards from unsuspecting hands, dictate search terms like a tyrannical librarian, or laugh at anyone typing fully-formed sentences into Google’s search box. “Type like you’re instructing a machine, not chatting with a friend,” I’d scoff.
When companies develop AI products with the potential to replace workers, they like to sprinkle in a little reassurance: “AI won’t take your job. It’ll handle the repetitive, tedious tasks so you can focus on the more complex, meaningful work.” Sounds fair, doesn’t it? Almost comforting. But it’s not entirely true.
After deploying an AI customer service agent for a large client, the first thing I’d do was wait for customer feedback. Most customers never leave a review, or a Customer Satisfaction Score (CSAT), as it’s commonly known in the industry. But for a large enough client, it was only a matter of minutes before the first responses would roll in. Like clockwork, the initial feedback appeared.
Enterprise software exists in its own strange, dystopian economy. A parallel universe where the laws of quality, efficiency, and common sense are entirely optional. It’s not just about the software itself; it’s about the bizarre rituals and absurd pricing models that come with it. Let me walk you through the madness.
On Android, the takeover of SMS is almost complete. For the longest time, I resisted letting Google manage my messages. I don’t recall exactly when I gave in. Maybe it was during one of those countless pop-ups interrupting my conversations, prompting me to agree just so I could continue texting. Now, I get slick animations when someone “likes” a message, see real-time indicators when people are typing, and enjoy the perks of using the internet to send messages. Along with that, however, I get auto-generated replies.
One day, I was looking for my manager in the Luxury furniture store I used to work at. I needed help resolving an issue with an order. I found her in the office, both hands covering her face and shaking. I hesitated for a moment while her shoulders danced up and down. When I finally knocked on the opened door, she didn't even react. I walked a couple steps and she was startled. She grabbed a tissue from her desk and wiped her eyes and nose. Her eyes were still blood red and dark. She had been crying. Before I could ask anything related to the help I needed, she said. "I'm leaving."
Before hopping on the computer, I went to see my mother with a well rehearsed speech. She was in the living room, talking on the wall phone balancing it on a shoulder while watching TV. I sat down beside her, rehearsing my speech in my head while waiting for her call to end. She noticed me fidgeting.
