Whether it’s composing stories, songs, even computer code while conversing amicably, somberly, angrily, depending on the situation. Or playfully and flirtatiously, looking deep into your eyes, gesturing the way Janet did when she was alive. I would swear that’s who I’m looking at, her dimples showing when she smiles, her blond hair short and mussy.
But she may as well be a hologram, a reconstituted version that can’t feel what she emotes, can’t touch or be touched. She’ll never be flesh and blood but would continue to change as the real Janet does. At least, that was the plan when the work began, but such an evolution can’t happen anymore.
Janet no longer receives or transmits in a way that’s relatable since she’s not physically present to add to the data. She’ll have no new thoughts or experiences. There will be no new achievements or setbacks, no biological changes or calamities that require altering parameters.
Future edits will become increasingly unreliable as the ever-changing model includes the traits of her maker. In this instance Lucy, and all who influence her. As she continues to refine and perfect, to tinker and second-guess on her own, the more her creation becomes like herself. Warts and all. Biases and emotionality thrown in at no extra charge.
Open-source Generative Pre-trained Transformer level three （GPT-3） technology is as stunning as it’s scary. This early on, and already AI is leaving human capabilities in the Stone Age dust. An avatar can look, sound, gesture, act and react like anybody the software engineers decide.
In most instances this is accomplished with video and audio recordings knitted together. Often the source of the modeling is the programmers themselves. But it also can be relatives, friends, spouses, and that’s how it started with Lucy and Janet. Their generated avatar was never intended to be the spitting image of either of them.
It wasn’t to take the place of a partner or a relationship, and I’m beyond the point of thinking it constructive to criticize. After all, who am I to say? I can’t know what’s best when technologies fantastically surpass anything humans have experienced in the past.
I came along in an era when what I’m looking at with my niece this minute was the stuff of science fiction, of Star Trek and Star Wars. I don’t pretend to know the answers I once thought I did. Including to the most fundamental questions about life and death. Are they really what we think? What makes us so sure?
Because I’m beginning to doubt it as I’m faced with an avatar that I’d swear is someone I trust and love. If I’m feeling that way, what must it be like for Lucy? I don’t want to imagine if Benton no longer were here, and I started spending my days talking to his cyber doppelg?nger.
CHAPTER 12
WERE YOU ON THE computer all day?” I sit down on the ottoman.
“I’ve been working.” Lucy pulls up a software menu, scrolling through it.
“Well, last I checked, your birthday’s not over yet, and what does Janet have to say about it?”
“I’ll let her tell you herself.”
With the click of the mouse, Janet blinks and smiles.
“Hey, babe, I’m back with a question,” Lucy says to the avatar. “Hope you weren’t lonely.”
“Yes, I was, Lucy Boo,” Janet says, the nickname going back to my niece’s childhood. “What’s your question?”
“What did you say to me earlier about my effing birthday that I’d prefer to effing ignore?”
“Two bucks in the swear jar!” And that’s classic Janet. “I said you should be happy about your birthday. Maybe people will take you seriously if you don’t look nineteen anymore,” she adds flirtatiously.
“Ha-ha, very funny. I spent this effing birthday working like any other day.” Lucy talks to the avatar as if it’s her partner. “Do you think that was a mistake?”
“You’re up to three dollars already, and such a silly thing to ask.” Janet laughs. “You always work. Birthday or not, life goes on. Things happen that have to be addressed. And besides, Lucy, you’re happiest and most at peace when you tackle problems, right a wrong, accomplish something.”
As the dialogue continues, I’m noticing that Janet’s language, gestures, her blinking and other facial expressions are vaguely stiff, too uniform and repetitive. I find her quiet and reserved. Thoughtful, deliberate and patient, rarely interrupting, and that’s who she was. Her new translation is a bit stilted, but if I didn’t know what I’m looking at, it’s likely I’d be fooled.