Tag Archives: YouTube

The Software Error of ‘The Social Dilemma’

The Social Dilemma is a terrifying look at what tech engineers have done to make social media a deadly addiction. So it’s more than a little ironic the film couldn’t make itself more arresting.

That’s not to say the new Netflix documentary isn’t interesting and, at times, enlightening and downright terrifying. Directed by Jeff Orlowski (Chasing Coral), Dilemma dutifully examines the retardation effect of social media: YouTubers peddling conspiracies; dolts informing themselves with Facebook news feeds; cell phone junkies fixing from the toilet.

Dilemma goes a layer deeper, collecting the tech wizards who helped create Silicon Valley titans such as Google, YouTube, FaceBook, Instagram, Twitter, etc. They tell a Frankensteinian story of their gambit with Artificial Intelligence, in which they literally turned AI on themselves — and the world at large — with no idea the outcome.

Too bad the film is loaded with needless dramatizations to illustrate its points, as if producers decided the old, Ken Burns-style of non-fiction filmmaking (interviews, real people, news footage) needed a software update.

It didn’t, and the film suffers for it.

Which is a shame, because Dilemma has some doozie anecdotes. Like when early engineers talk of programming AI to keep readers locked on screens, even if it meant feeding them fake news. Or the engineer who came up with the idea to allow users to “tag” and alert other users that they’ve been named in a social media post, making it impossible to resist.

The most enthralling, though, is the Faustian bargain engineers made with AI. Technicians talk of giving AI a simple goal in their social media strategy, similar to teaching a computer to play chess. In this case, they programmed AI to send alluring alerts to social media users in dopamine- dosed chimes and crimson notifications.

Even technicians admitted they underestimated AI’s learning curve, and have had to battle their own addictions to mobile devices.

“If it’s free,” an engineer flatly says of social media (and its itinerant games, apps and services), “you’re the product.”

The Social Dilemma — this is how the world ends | Financial Times
Social media architects after Congressional testimony.

So how did Netflix let this gem slip through its fingers? Namely, with its silly and necessary stage flourishes. Instead of sticking with interviews, Dilemma assigns actors to play some of the engineers (and their families). It even has an actor to play Jaron Lanier, considered the godfather of virtual reality. He’s more striking than the actor playing him, and the drama undercuts Lanier’s insight.

Lanier blowing into a woodwind instrument with several chambers
The real Jaron Lanier

Most egregiously, though, is Dilemma‘s portrayal of AI, here played by actor Vincent Kartheiser. Kartheiser was vanity embodied wonderfully in Mad Men. Here, though, he plays a cartoonish virtual villain, pudgy and merciless like a rabid Wizard of Oz.

Vincent Kartheiser - Rotten Tomatoes

It not quite enough to make Dilemma unwatchable. The details are too damning too ignore. But for a story about the unrelenting threat of a burgeoning computer threat, Dilemma could have used more of a human touch.

Baby You Can Drive My Car

 

I took my first Uber ride this week.

That embarrassing acknowledgement comes as part confession, part contrition, and part caustic admission that I was wrong and need to own it.

For years, I railed against the ride sharing service, as I’m want to do with so many 21st century things. I’ll still never forgive my colleagues for allowing the term “social media” to take hold. And we did allow it — how else would it spread through popular culture? The American Surgery Association, a real thing, never would  recognize the term “social surgeon.” The Federal Aviation Administration would laugh your ass out the door if you applied for a “social pilot” license.

Yet not so with cars, even though there are 1.3 million traffic deaths a year, according to the National Highway Traffic Administration. That’s 3,287 deadly car crashes a day.

And Uber was suffering additional concerns. There was the fatal accident by a self-driving Uber in Arizona. And Jason Brian Dalton, the Uber driver from Kalamazoo who shot 6 people to death between fares in 2016.

But in truth, what  gave me pause was the “training” regimen required for all Uber drivers: a 13-minute YouTube video.  Everything a licensed cabbie must demonstrably learn about driving laws, legal liability, customer service, etc., could be neatly wrapped up watching that video, according to Silicon Valley. That says a lot about one of two industries, I’m not sure which.

The video is below, in its entirety. If you watch it, you’re technically Uber-approved to run a personal taxi service (though I wonder how many Uber drivers actually watched it).

That never cut it with me. I would rather drive myself, I rationalized, rather than trust a stranger in a deceptively deadly exercise in a vehicle I knew nothing about.

What an idiot.

Confession: I’m a YouTube junkie. Documentaries. Converted podcasts. Stanford lectures (brilliant idea). Animals doing funny shit (I am human, after all).

And it was on the unofficial lecture circuit I learned of the Cognitive Bias Codex, a map as complex as a New York subway. Evolutionary psychologists officially describe it as this: “Cognitive biases can be organized into four categories: biases that arise from too much information, not enough meaning, the need to act quickly, and the limits of memory. The biases can result in a departure from normative behavior and rationality.”

But isn’t that just a long way of saying you mistakenly believe you know what people are thinking — including yourself? The codex doesn’t have enough room on a circle to fit them all. When I gave up trying to learn the first definition and learned to accept the second, I realized my unwarranted bias against Uber.

After all, they are taking a bigger risk than me in the chance meeting. They are doing it for money. I do it in distraction. Speaking of which, I also had to face it: I suck at driving. They are more likely to be protective of their car than  I am, even in my own.

So I bit the bullet, downloaded the app, and scheduled a ride to the poker game that night.

Why was I nervous? What was the etiquette? Do I sit in the front seat or back? Do I tip him/her? Did they know they were popping my Uber cherry? I actually checked myself in the mirror and waited on the front patio like  an anxious prom date.

But my nerves began to ease when I paid more attention to the app itself. It pinged me two minutes before he was to arrive. The driver, an elderly Middle Eastern man in an immaculate Honda Civic hybrid, had been on 5,204 5-star rides in his two-and-a-half years at Uber. As his car approached, I could watch it block by block on the app’s GPS. So distracted was I, he had to gently beep twice when he stopped in front.

Alas, the driver either didn’t know he was taking my Uber virginity, or didn’t care. He was quiet as a monk and as cautious as a soccer mom. The ride cost me $11.33. I don’t know what a taxi would have cost. But I do know that if cab services aren’t implementing their own apps with similar GPS services, their time on this Earth will be shorter than that of newspapermen.

While I’m sure I’ll continue to bray against the do-it-yourself, asshole-economy, I have to admit I’d rather someone else deal with traffic.

Even a robot.

 

 

 

 

:-)

 

 

I’m loathe to use the term lol, except when I’m deriding it, like now.

It seems that humorous e-missives evoke a :-), not an lol. So why lie? And, if it did inspire an audible chortle, guffaw, cackle or titter, wouldn’t such a gift merit more than an acronym in response?

But a recent email triggered an actual lol. Maybe even an lmao.

It was a YouTube link accompanied by a two-line message: “This dog and Esme should be best friends. How can we arrange this??”

Maybe the chuckle came not just from the hilarity of the video, but from the joy of realizing: My daughter is not alone.

You see, Esme suffers from Hysterical Energy Syndrome. I once thought she was alone, but no longer. Apparently, when any Boston gets a jolt of energy — like, say from, anything — it loses its shit.

The disorder has gotten so bad I can barely have visitors, all of whom must think I starve Teddy and Esme for attention. Because when the doorbell chimes, the dogs go bonkers. Even Esme. Especially Esme.

Normally, she’s the subtle one of the pair, which tells you something. But she seems to get genuinely, lethally jealous whenever Teddy bigfoots the spotlight (which eager 90-pound Goldens tend to do). She’ll bark and tear and try to shred the boy, who is oblivious to the fury:

Ding dong
Theodore Ruxpin Bowles: OH MY GOD!!
Esme Beyonce Bowles: Company!
TRB: HI!! I’M TEDDY!! I DON’T KNOW WHO THESE OTHERS ARE!!! WHO ARE YOU?? NEVER MIND, COME IN!!! DO YOU WANT TO LIVE HERE???
EBB: Shut the hell up. Do you remember last time?
TRB: HI!! I’M TEDDY!! CAN I SNIFF YOUR CROTCH??!!!!
EBB: That’s it. You die now! (mini-bark, mini-growl, mini-rabid, mini-maul)
TRB: HI!!! I’M…SIS!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? HAHAH…NOT NOW!! STOP TICKLING!!!! HI!!! I’M TEDDY!!!

Still. And I’ll deny it if you tell em. But, truthfully, who could not yearn for such pandemonium, at any arrival?

It’s enough to make you laugh out loud.