“Interact with a void as if it had a soul” — is that not Ambrose Bierce’s concise definition of prayer?
Sorry, sorry; I only jest! In fact, believe it or not, this has been a longstanding concern of mine as well. I was always troubled by the cavalier attitude toward artificial intelligence displayed in the popular entertainments of my childhood. While other boys were cheering Luke Skywalker’s adventures, I was wondering whether his familiarity with C3PO and R2-D2 constituted a dangerous erosion of the distinction between persons and things. Were the robots merely sophisticated appliances, or was Lucas insinuating that they possessed souls? And what were the implications for the ontological foundations of human dignity?
My friends seemed indifferent to these questions. Indeed, when I raised the subject during recess, they frequently told me to “shut up, dork.”
Matters grew worse in 1982, with the premiere of Knight Rider. Here was a grown man who not only conversed with his automobile but treated it as a friend and confidant. I tried to explain to my classmates that such behavior contributed to the labefaction of moral order. They replied by stuffing me into a locker.
Even then, I recognized the irony. In their eagerness to defend the supposed humanity of a talking Pontiac, they had lost sight of the actual human being in their midst. Unfortunately, my attempts to explain this through the ventilation slots were not well received.
It has taken long enough, but I am gratified to discover that Leith and Gaskovski have finally arrived at the conclusions I reached in elementary school. I only wish they had been around to offer a little moral support at the time. I might have spent considerably less of my childhood without my underpants yanked up to my ribs.