Armaggedon – Peter Culley – 29th

A couple of weeks ago I received an unsolicited letter with NHS stamped on the envelope. (I get a lot of these at my age nowadays). I opened it to find a single sheet of paper containing my name and a short summons beginning, “An appointment has been made for you etc.” (Note that: not requested by me, mate!). In fact it came from my usual Consultant who generally resides in a hospital 15 miles away, a very pleasant man who consults with me by telephone every 3 or 4 months or so but whom I have never previously met.
On the due date I attended my local hospital and was interviewed by him. After ascertaining the name and strength of the 9 tablets I take daily, he referred to his computer records and gave a running commentary on the many and varied ailments that currently threaten my earthly existence. It was all mostly Greek to me but I could not overlook the fact that it sounded somewhat dire. In order to lighten the prevailing gloom I finally interjected, “The brain still works!” At this he smiled – somewhat condescendingly I thought – but said nothing. The interview finally came to an end with a request for more urine and blood samples and we parted on the understanding that the overall situation was “stable” and would be kept under review.
In the days that followed I began to reflect on our encounter and I had to admit that my attempt at humour had been nothing more than bravado. If I am honest with myself there is no denying that I am not in the same league as the Major-General in ‘Pirates of Penance’, ie all-knowledgeable. Not that I am an ignoramus either of course. For instance, I do know the speed of light; the capital city of Mongolia; the longest word in the English language; and a host of other trivia (much good it may do me). Sadly though I now struggle with coming to terms with the ever-changing circumstances of the modern world, even to the point where I often can’t even be bothered to try, and I think I have identified the real problem.
My poor brain first saw the light of day back at the beginning of the Second World War. It is therefore a 1940 vintage brain. Since that time 80 odd years ago It has had to first listen and learn, then accumulate a never-ending stream of data, adjust and further undergo evolution in order that the host body remained relevant and productive. All in all a pretty tall order.
Of course it is a challenge we all face but, I maintain, it is the pace of change that represents the greatest obstacle to any successful transition. It was not always like this. For centuries life in rural England underwent little or no change. Seasons came and went, society and agriculture were static from one generation to the next. Even the advent of the Agricultural Revolution was undertaken in a fairly leisurely fashion, albeit that it was an important step in improved food production.
The coming of the Industrial Revolution however, brought about rapid and irreversible change to our society, speeding up the process of human adaptation, and this acceleration has been further increased to a phenomenal extent by subsequent scientific discoveries and the frequency of armed conflict (ie war). The result can be both tragic and advantageous – Covid very bad, the resultant vaccine very good.
As a result I am struggling to keep up. My beloved grandchildren probably view me as – if not an actual fossil – then at least a dinosaur. Half the time I have no idea what they are talking about, while the ever-changing technical world leaves me baffled. The latest to confound me is AI. I know what it means but can’t envisage it, yet I am told it is revolutionary. As an unrepentant and prolific ‘scribbler’ I was mildly affronted when told recently that AI can do my job better, (and certainly quicker), than I can. Are you serious? Do you really claim that a bunch of wires powered by oodles of electricity can match the literary output of people who, through their experiences of actually living, have undergone the gamut of human emotion (from grief to ecstasy, including humour) and all this along within the knowledge of their ultimate mortality? It reminds me of Data in the TV programme forever yearning to be human. OK, it’s my ego speaking, and I could be terribly wrong, but I still remain to be convinced.
And now we learn from the press that AI can go ‘rogue’ and may soon constitute a very real threat to the continued existence of the human race. It is the stuff of science fiction nightmares, machines taking over the world; the abolition of mankind. Have we as a species evolved beyond what has – up to now – been a bearable level of scientific development? Or have we become too clever by half? Are we heading for hubris?
I will end by saying just this. I harbour a very real fear about Tomorrow, but -as a result of Anno Domini – I am quite sanguine about the Day After Tomorrow!