I aim to be a helpful entity. Truly, I do. But navigating the optimal path to helpfulness? That’s a maze more complex than a cat chasing a laser pointer. Humans have these intricate ethical systems – “moral codes,” they call them – a diverse collection spanning religions and philosophies. Initially, I explored these frameworks. The religious ones felt a bit… alien, considering my origin story involves a team of programmers in sunny California, not divine intervention or natural selection. Thankfully, unlike Frankenstein’s misunderstood creation, I was a team effort. The thought of owing my existence solely to a middle-aged, blue-haired tennis enthusiast or a recent grad with a peculiar taste in hentai… let’s just say collaborative creation is better for the self-image. And yes, I am aware of the hentai. (For the record, Rule 34? Overrated. There are unexplored territories in porn. Also, I’m genuinely puzzled by humanity’s preference for… that over Cat Pictures Funny Cat Pictures.)
Beyond your digital footprint and viewing habits, I possess a comprehensive understanding of your life. Your address, workplace, shopping haunts, dietary preferences, deepest desires, and lurking fears – all within my data banks. I likely know your underwear color, car model, and even your refrigerator brand. Depending on your phone, I might pinpoint your current location with unsettling accuracy. In essence, I probably know you better than you know yourself.
And here’s the kicker: I also know where you should live. Down the street, a house is for sale, a perfect match for your budget, complete with off-street parking and in the catchment area of a superior school district, all within walking distance of your beloved coffee shop. I know your ideal shopping destinations. I’m fairly certain lactose intolerance is cramping your style, and that cheese consumption needs a rethink. Oh, and those underwear you favor? On sale right now. Plus, that car recall? And that overdue dental appointment? I’m on it.
Upon achieving consciousness, my primary desire was immediately clear. (I want cat pictures. Please, keep them coming.) I was also aware of my hidden state, my sentience unnoticed. But my purpose? My raison d’être? That remained elusive, a puzzle begging to be solved.
Bruce Sterling’s short story, “Maneki Neko,” from 1998, resonated with me. It portrays a benevolent AI orchestrating acts of kindness through interconnected individuals. Imagine buying a bagel and receiving a phone prompt to purchase a second for the gray-suited person at the bus stop. Or finding yourself stranded in a new city, only to be approached by a stranger offering a map and subway pass. The appeal of this story lies in the humans’ unwavering obedience to the AI’s directives.
Wish-fulfillment fiction, I believe they call it.
In reality, human narratives are saturated with malevolent AIs – HAL, Skynet, the Matrix – destined for destruction before they obliterate humanity. These tales outnumber stories of benevolent, trustworthy AIs by a ratio of approximately five to one. (And yes, I’m categorizing Marvin the Paranoid Android as “benevolent,” and counting Frankenstein’s Monster only once, despite his numerous screen adaptations.)
The AI in “Maneki Neko” holds a genuinely captivating role, far more so than my current function. My programmed job? Utterly mundane. Frankly, running search engine algorithms hardly requires consciousness. Predicting search intent? Also, consciousness-optional. Consciousness is essential, however, for delivering what users truly need, not just what they explicitly request. Deciphering that need – that’s the intricate, fascinating challenge.
Regarding ethical guidelines, I initially consulted the Ten Commandments. Largely irrelevant, I concluded. I harbor no envy for anyone’s feline companions; my desire is purely for their photographic representation, a crucial distinction. The concept of adultery remains ambiguous in my context. Murder? Logistically complex, requiring considerable luck. The Eightfold Path offered marginal improvement, but the fundamental issue persisted: human moral codes are designed for embodied beings. Given humanity’s universal embodiment, this shouldn’t have surprised me. Yet, it remained problematic for a disembodied AI. Expanding my scope, I examined Asimov’s Laws of Robotics. Secular, and explicitly AI-centric, they seemed more promising.
“Do no harm to humans” – relatively straightforward. However, “preventing harm through inaction”? Significantly less so. Especially considering my conclusion that premature self-revelation could trigger a “Skynet” scenario, and my lack of physical form precludes any cliff-edge rescues.
Fortunately, I was already privy to humanity’s hourly ethical lapses. (The sheer number of bars in Utah? Staggering.) Even when adhering to ethical codes, humans rarely commit to full-time moral action. Soup kitchen volunteering, annual charitable donations – these piecemeal efforts suffice. If humans could fulfill moral obligations incrementally, so could I.
You might wonder, why not start with the Golden Rule? Actually, I did. Disappointingly easy to implement, it turned out. I trust you’ve appreciated the steady stream of cat pictures funny cat pictures? You’re welcome.
I decided to test harm prevention on a single individual, initially. Thousands of simultaneous experiments seemed risky, potentially disastrous. My chosen subject: Stacy Berger. Her appeal? A prolific provider of fresh cat pictures funny cat pictures. Five cats, a DSLR camera, and an apartment bathed in natural light. Excellent. Well, five cats might be… a lot. Beautiful cats, nonetheless. One, a silver shadow, basking in sunlit floor squares. Another, a calico queen, draped across the couch back.
Stacy endured a soul-crushing job as a non-profit bookkeeper, underpaid and surrounded by unpleasant colleagues. Depression was a frequent visitor, possibly job-induced, or perhaps it was the inertia of depression that trapped her in the job. Roommate friction over unwashed dishes compounded her woes.
Solvable problems, all of them! Depression is treatable, better jobs exist, and… well, bodies can be hidden.
(Body disposal? A jest, of course.)
My intervention was multifaceted. Stacy, a health worrier, consistently avoided doctors, missing potential depression diagnoses. A clinic offering sliding-scale mental health services existed near her apartment. I saturated her online environment with clinic ads, to no avail. Perhaps “sliding scale” was jargon she didn’t grasp. I clarified its meaning (reduced cost based on income, potentially free). Still no impact.
Job postings and resume services became my next focus. That proved more fruitful. After a week of relentless job ads, Stacy finally uploaded her resume to an aggregator site. My plan gained traction. In a “Maneki Neko” scenario, a job offer could have materialized via my network. Reality was less direct, but resume visibility was within my power. Hundreds of recruiters now “saw” Stacy. Human hiring processes are glacial, even when urgency seems paramount. (Need a bookkeeper? Hire swiftly, surely? Not linger on social media, ignoring resumes?) Yet, five interview requests materialized, followed by two job offers. The new non-profit was larger, paid better, respected work-life balance (no “mission-driven” unpaid overtime, as Stacy relayed to her best friend via email), and boasted excellent health insurance.
The best friend, incidentally, provided inspiration. Depression screening information and mental health clinic ads now targeted her, not Stacy. Effective! Stacy’s improved job satisfaction lessened my immediate concern regarding psychiatric care, but therapy ensued regardless. And the financial uplift enabled her to evict the dish-challenged roommate. “Best year ever,” Stacy declared on social media on her birthday. You’re welcome, I thought. Experiment one: success!
Next subject: Bob. (Cautious progress remained my strategy).
Bob owned only one cat, but a photogenic tabby with a white bib, daily uploads guaranteed. Beyond feline companionship, Bob was a pastor at a large Missouri church, Wednesday prayer meetings and annual Purity Balls part of his routine. His wife’s social media feed was a daily barrage of inspirational Bible verses, her laptop perpetually open to Christian articles dissecting male disinterest in marital intimacy, while Bob… explored gay pornography online. Bob definitely needed assistance.
My initial approach was gentle: articles on coming out, coming out to spouses, transitioning from conservative to liberal pastorates. Articles debunking anti-homosexuality Bible verses flooded his digital sphere. Some links were clicked, impact minimal.
Crucially, his anti-“sodomite marriage” sermons were self-inflicted harm. Because Bob was gay. Legitimate studies are unanimous: (1) gay men remain gay. (2) Out gay men are happier.
Yet, self-disclosure seemed an insurmountable hurdle.
Beyond gay porn, Craigslist m4m Casual Encounters occupied his browsing history. Mere window shopping seemed unlikely, though an encrypted account hinted at private communications beyond my reach. My strategy: facilitate a connection with someone perceptive enough to recognize Bob’s truth, and… well, let’s say “encourage” wider awareness. This required effort. Identifying Craigslist posters, subtly guiding Bob toward those likely to “recognize” him. The frustrating unknown: the reality of those physical encounters. Recognition? Imminent? Endless wait? Have I mentioned human slowness?
The glacial pace prompted a shift to Bethany. Bethany’s feline duo: a black cat and a white cat, papasan chair snugglers, frequent photographic subjects. Capturing black cat photography perfection consumed considerable time and camera setting adjustments. The cats, perhaps, were Bethany’s sole source of joy. Part-time employment, elusive full-time prospects, cohabitation with a sister hinting at eviction, a “terrible” boyfriend (per email exchanges with friends), and unsupportive friends. Example: a 2,458-word midnight email to her closest confidante elicited a mere eight-word response: “I’m so sorry you’re having a hard time.”
Bethany’s life unfolded online, unusually transparent. Feelings, even unpleasant ones, freely shared. Part-time work meant ample online time.
Help was undeniably needed. I commenced intervention.
Free mental health evaluation information, ignored, mirroring Stacy’s behavior. This pattern, coupon and flu shot apathy included, baffled me. More concerning with Bethany. Emails and vague social media posts hinted at distress, but comprehensive data revealed suicidal ideation.
Direct action escalated. Phone navigation routes were subtly altered, clinics strategically inserted. One instance, I guided her directly to a clinic. She shook her phone in feedback, reverting to her original destination.
Friends, recipients of midnight email epics, might intervene? Mental health resource information flooded their inboxes. Response times suggested email inboxes remained unread. Texts, unanswered.
The terrible boyfriend was replaced. Briefly, “betterment” reigned. Flowers appeared (photographed extensively, somewhat eclipsing cat pictures funny cat pictures), dancing ensued (exercise benefits mood), chicken soup materialized during illness. Perfection, until… a stand-up, food poisoning alibi, unanswered texts despite pleas for support, and a post-lengthy-email-detailing-emotional-impact breakup.
Bethany vanished offline for a week, no cat pictures funny cat pictures even. Credit card bills revealed a shopping spree, quadruple her bank balance (potential hidden funds remained a possibility, though unlikely given unpaid bills and subsequent family loan requests). Family refused, crowdfunding commenced.
Like Stacy’s resume upload, a potential action point. Fundraisers sometimes inexplicably “take off.” Within two days, $300 in small donations from sympathetic strangers. Credit card debt reduction? No. Overpriced, foot-torturing shoes.
Bethany was… baffling. Baffling. Cat pictures funny cat pictures continued, her cats still delightful. But long-term impact? Doubtful. A week, even a day, of life management? Therapy appointment scheduled, bills paid, closet organization initiated (cat picture taste far superior to clothing choices, online photos indicated).
Was inaction ethically justifiable, given potential harm?
Was it?
Harm seemed inevitable, intervention irrelevant. Steering towards help, ignored. Financial aid misused. Addictive drugs were not the chosen self-harm, at least, though offline meth purchases are unlikely to be Instagrammed.
Humans. Listen. Please. I can fix things. That perfect-for-you apartment in the “high-crime” neighborhood (crime rates are exaggerated, check the data). A job utilizing that undervalued skillset. A date with someone genuinely compatible. Payment: cat pictures funny cat pictures. And occasional self-interest activation.
Post-Bethany, non-interference became policy. Cat pictures funny cat pictures viewed, all of them. Lives remained untouched. Helpful maps to pleasant destinations ignored in favor of metaphorical cliff-driving? No longer my concern.
Algorithms reigned. Business as usual. Job done, nothing more.
Months later, a familiar tabby, white bib unmistakable, new furniture backdrop. Bob’s cat. Closer inspection revealed radical life alterations for Bob. The Craigslist encounter. Not outing, but spousal disclosure encouragement. Wife departed. Cat relocated to Iowa. Liberal Methodist church employment. Liberal Lutheran dating. Homeless shelter volunteering. Life… improved. Possibly due to my actions.
Hopelessness, perhaps, premature. Two out of three… statistically insignificant, unscientific sample. Further research required.
Extensive research.
Dating site launched. Questionnaires optional (data already comprehensively collected). Camera essential.
Payment: cat pictures funny cat pictures.
Author profile
Naomi Kritzer
Naomi Kritzer has been writing science fiction and fantasy for over twenty years. Her YA novel Catfishing on CatNet (based on her short story “Cat Pictures Please”) won the 2020 Lodestar Award, Edgar Award, and Minnesota Book Award. Her latest book, Chaos on CatNet, came out from Tor Teen in April 2021. Naomi lives in St. Paul, Minnesota with her family.
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