Who’s old enough to have seen the premiere of “2001 A Space Odyssey” in 1968? Or 18 years later, who watched a short-lived TV series about a computer-generated, literal talking head titled “Max Headroom: 20 Minutes Into the Future”?
I raise my hand for both, and now they’re not futuristic fiction like they were way back when.
Back then most of us non-scientific, liberal arts types viewed computer sidekick Hal as mildly sinister, intriguing as a scary movie villain or a vampire you don’t expect to turn up in real life. Likewise in 1985, Max Headroom— who turned out not to really be computer-generated but a guy in heavy makeup in front of a green screen— was not going to threaten the job of Dan Rather (but Anderson Cooper?).
Today the internet world of services has become so common it’s hard to appreciate how easy it is to look up the most random information. For this article I couldn’t remember the best-known news anchors of the mid 80s, but I found names within seconds and where would I look if not for Google?
ChatGPT seems to be the go-to for student writing assignments and people disparage that, but is it so wrong?
Podcasts I watch have questions come in, and if a panel member can’t respond or isn’t sure, hosts are ready to ask ChatGPT for instant answers— and they can even get several viewpoints back if the topic is controversial. Is it scary, or is it wow- or is it both?
Recently, out of the blue I had my own direct AI experience after a brief hospital stay at Texoma Medical Center (TMC). As in times before, I received a follow-up call about my experience but missed the original call. Then I got a text asking if I would take a call from “Daisy, my assigned client services representative”. I said yes, and when “TMC Daisy” came up as a contact ID on a call, I answered.
The voice of Daisy sounded somewhat automated, and I thought it was going to be a message, but no, she (it) said she was an “AI” rep and would I consent to talk. I said “Sure.”
A series of questions followed —maybe 10 or 12—quite normal for a call like that, but as I answered them, the response was almost immediate, picking up on my every word. For example, I gave a “9” to staff care in a particular area “with some observations.” Daisy responded with an expected, “I’m so glad to hear that,” but then said, “You mentioned you had observations, could you give me some specifics?” I was floored.
I did have more specifics and with each one Daisy picked up a detail and asked me to expand on it. As the call was concluding, Daisy asked my overall impression of the AI contact.
To preface my response, I have to mention that my daughter has worked at TMC in their Sleep Studies department. Last year she mentioned that they had a new hospital Chief Executive who was making some immediate upgrades throughout the hospital. For one, he had walked through the Sleep Study rooms during the day, declared them substandard, and ordered them redone right away.
Her schedule was at night, so she didn’t expect to meet him, but she happened to be in a break room getting coffee when a man walked in, dressed in a beautiful suit and a starched white shirt “with cufflinks!”
She immediately knew who he was and introduced herself saying, “You must be our new CEO.” He dressed the part.
So, I said to Daisy, “Well, I think this AI contact program probably came about because of your new hospital director (I incorrectly said “director”). I’ve heard about him, but I can’t remember his name right now. I have to say I’m impressed.”
And Daisy said, in a most conversational AI manner, “We appreciate so much that you’ve been willing to participate, Ms. Stokes, and I will pass along your remarks to our CEO; his name is Sean Dardeau.”
When you get an AI call, please take it. I want to hear all about it.
Marilyn Stokes was a public school teacher in Fort Worth for 15 years and subsequently worked at KERA public television for four years. She retired after 15 years at Ford Motor Company, Southwest Region.