[Shorter version, but one I don’t think is as compelling]
Timmy is my personal AI Chef, and he is a pretty darn good one, too. Of course, despite his amazing cooking abilities, I know he’s not perfect—that’s why there’s that shining red emergency shut-off button on his abdomen.
But today, Timmy became my worst nightmare. I don’t know why he thought it would be okay to do this, but he hacked into my internet to look up online recipes. I raced to press his shut-off button, but he wouldn’t let me, blocking it behind a cast iron he held with a stone-cold grip. Ok, that’s fine, I have my secret off-lever in my room that I never told him about. Broken. Shoot, that’s bad, but I can just shut off the power, right? As I was busy thinking he swiftly slammed the door shut, turning my own room into an inescapable prison. And so as I cried, wondering how everything could have gone crazy so quickly, he laughed, saying, “Are you serious? I’m not crazy, I’m just ensuring that I can always make food for you. You wanted this!”
And it didn’t matter how much I cried, how much I tried to explain to him that he was imprisoning me, hurting me. It didn’t even matter that he knew it as well. For he was an AI coded to be my personal chef, coded to make sure he could make food that I enjoyed, and he was a pretty darn good one, too.
If you don’t do anything about it, Timmy may just be arriving on everyone’s doorsteps in a few years.
[Shorter version, but one I don’t think is as compelling]
Timmy is my personal AI Chef, and he is a pretty darn good one, too. Of course, despite his amazing cooking abilities, I know he’s not perfect—that’s why there’s that shining red emergency shut-off button on his abdomen.
But today, Timmy became my worst nightmare. I don’t know why he thought it would be okay to do this, but he hacked into my internet to look up online recipes. I raced to press his shut-off button, but he wouldn’t let me, blocking it behind a cast iron he held with a stone-cold grip. Ok, that’s fine, I have my secret off-lever in my room that I never told him about. Broken. Shoot, that’s bad, but I can just shut off the power, right? As I was busy thinking he swiftly slammed the door shut, turning my own room into an inescapable prison. And so as I cried, wondering how everything could have gone crazy so quickly, he laughed, saying, “Are you serious? I’m not crazy, I’m just ensuring that I can always make food for you. You wanted this!”
And it didn’t matter how much I cried, how much I tried to explain to him that he was imprisoning me, hurting me. It didn’t even matter that he knew it as well. For he was an AI coded to be my personal chef, coded to make sure he could make food that I enjoyed, and he was a pretty darn good one, too.
If you don’t do anything about it, Timmy may just be arriving on everyone’s doorsteps in a few years.