It occurred to me when I was in Boots. There were automated check outs beeping out in their androgynous, metallic proto-feminine voice and the subjugated masses apologetically scrabbled about with buttons, coins, bags, products and scanners. The following question came in to my head: "Did the IT specialists who invested in these new super-efficient tills, even remotely consider the possibility that investing the same money in humans might yield better results?"
Later in the day, a colleague expressed his concern about understanding the street signs in Tokyo (he's off for 3 weeks the lucky &$^%$) and one bright technofile in the office piped up "wouldn't it be great if you could just send a picture of street signs via your mobile phone and you automatically got a translation?"
On hearing this I went into rant mode. Something along the lines of: "Why do people automatically think that technology is the solution to every question? Wouldn't it be more satisfying to learn a little Japanese rather than create a technological solution that probably won't work? Why do all problems only seem to have a technological solution? Yada yada yada "
My frustration is that, rather like a chemical high, any investment in technology only ever achieves a short-term improvement in service and then disappoints as the initial buzz of an upgrade is superseded by the drudgery of constantly necessary updates, tweaks, refinements, and additional investment that is never budgeted for in the first round of finance.
Nevertheless, the yearn for the buzz achieved by technological advantage (which stems perhaps from an evolutionary adrenaline rush when we realise that we have better munitia than our enemies) is never satisfied. Humans are complicated, we yearn for personal attention which makes us incredibly likely to find ways to break technology, or to work outside it. In addition, technology manufacturers need to make a profit so they make best-fit, off-the-peg products that don't actually fit anyone.
Perhaps in the early days of the technological revolution, change was what we needed to move away from the blunt force, unskilled, soul destroying labour we had created. The challenge now though seems to be to apply the usability, and service led mentality of a programmer, but to incorporate a role for humanity to play into the business plan.
To finish where I started, why couldn't Boots invest in a system that lets people scan as you go around the store? Perhaps that way you could call a sales assistant to advise you and he could scan your goods and take payment, like a restaurant? That would be an upgrade for humans as well as machines...
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Sunday, June 08, 2008
a dystopian reality
Films like the Matrix and Terminator depict a dystopian future where technology dominates humanity with its superior processing power. The Terminator is a robot that can instantly learn how to drive any vehicle, use any weapon or recognise any face. This daunting feat lurks in the imagination of some techno-geek and is far from reality.
The real dystopia of technology is that it never fully delivers on its promise. Like the Terminator, it will always be something we imagine working. The reality is that technology raises up our hopes promising solutions and advancement and then dashes them with crashes and complexity making us feel vulnerable and dependent.
The real dystopia of technology is that it never fully delivers on its promise. Like the Terminator, it will always be something we imagine working. The reality is that technology raises up our hopes promising solutions and advancement and then dashes them with crashes and complexity making us feel vulnerable and dependent.
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