Every morning, the same lament:
“I need to change that awful ringtone.”
Every day, he forgets to do it.
A sound as unbearable as it is indescribable emanates from this device. The sonic assault snatches Marc from his dream. He keeps his eyes closed, breathing slowly.
Damn, this dream-breaker phone.
He takes a deep breath to give himself the courage to get out of bed. He’d like to lie there for hours. But he has no choice. He’s got to get up.
A glance at his watch:
“Average sleep.
Poor position.
Temperature not optimal.
Meal taken too late.
You can do better.”
Marc makes mental notes. He’s determined to improve his nights and health. He knows these nights are the solution to better days.
He hammers the small screen to shut out the infernal sound.
6.45 a.m.: silence reigns in the room.
The day hasn’t started yet.
He’s already late.
A lightning bath. The toothbrush vibrates to tell him to move on to the next thing. Another app.
“Tuesday breakfast
- 1 slice of wholemeal bread
- 1 egg
- 1 yoghurt
- 1 apple”
He doesn’t question the poverty of the meal. It’s about trust. It works for others. It will work for him. He wolfed down his meal. Takes his keys. On his doorstep, a thought that could save him.
“Hey, what’s the weather going to be like today?”
“Rainy, go out covered.”
New sigh. He plucks up the courage to retrace his steps and arm himself for the day ahead. An umbrella, and a jacket, he can finally leave.
Outside, the sun is already high. The ten minutes to his parking lot are hellish. He’s sweating. Where’s the rain? Or the cold? Or the bad weather? It’ll probably come later. These applications are never wrong, right?
He loves the freeway, it’s a place where he can lose himself in his thoughts. But another alarm pulls him out of his daydream.
“Traffic at 10 km. Change itinerary”.
He instantly leaves the main road for a country road. But he’s quickly stuck in traffic. He admits defeat. Everyone must have had the same idea.
7.59 am: Phew, he arrives a minute early. He’s been late twice. Once by a minute. Once by 37 seconds. A third delay wouldn’t be good for his rating.
He returns to his post.
A new alarm.
He takes another deep breath.
“All teams assemble.”
The manager speaks in an authoritative voice:
“Our algorithm has improved. Our methods have been adjusted. All you have to do is follow the machine’s instructions.”
He wonders if this manager has a soul. He doesn’t have time to answer this question, his work is waiting for him.
This is the third time this year that the machines have changed. Once again, he’ll have to learn new habits.
What’s next in the optimization process?
A machine sorts objects into rows. All he has to do is take the items in a specific row off the platform. Then press a few buttons on the panel in front of him. He does this for 8 consecutive hours, 5 days a week.
He doesn’t like his job. But he feels so little that he can’t even hate it. He works. Because he’s got to put a roof over his head, feed himself.
Everyone has to do it right?
Sometimes he thinks it’s absurd. That no human being is meant to have his soul ripped out like that. But in the news, they say he’s “lucky” to have a job. There’s a recession, inflation and, with the advance of automation, jobs are becoming increasingly scarce. He feels ungrateful for not feeling lucky.
At break time, he swipes a few profiles to kill time. Seeing the faces, he imagines what his life could be like with each of them. A perfect life where they’d love each other, in a beautiful house full of smiles, surrounded by animals and vegetation.
He’s been on an app for years. He systematically sends a message to all the profiles recommended to him, but no date has ever led to anything serious. His imagination of a life together is all he has left.
Marc has finished his shift. He’s exhausted. He goes straight home. His body demands it. He needs the only place where he feels any semblance of security.
The ritual is almost always the same.
He opens the door. Throws his keys on the small table. His armchair is like quicksand. He turns on his TV, a streaming application. And gets lost. The first recommended program is viewed. So much the better, he no longer has the strength to choose.
Until 8 pm.
Time to eat.
He opens his app.
The gesture is mechanical.
“Evening meal
- Broccoli
- Chicken
- Rice
- Apple”
Damn, he forgot to defrost his meat. He blames himself. He’s hungry. It’s been a hard day. He knows what’s going to happen. He already feels remorse for something he hasn’t done yet.
He opens his delivery app. But two meals for the price of one is a bargain not to be missed. He adds a tip to the delivery man to ease his conscience.
He eats his two pizzas guiltily. He’ll do better tomorrow. He must do better tomorrow.
He looks at his watch:
“Don’t forget to turn the temperature down.”
But what if he doesn’t? The truth seems to hit him. He feels tormented.
“Have I made a single decision today?”
The thought of turning off his air conditioner excites him. An act of rebellion. But his courage fades as quickly as it came.
9 pm
His phone shouts: “Bedtime.”
“I’ll be brave another day, now I must sleep.”
A short text on the absurdity of the algorithms that invade us. From morning to night, we are under the yoke of recommendations. We watch, eat, spend time on recommended activities. Will we still be choosing anything in a few years' time?
Yet another good post!
And its really scary to live on an auto pilot with instructions from machines, if this is the way our future is going to be.
Atleast till now, its not been like that here in our place (except for movie, food suggestions) or atleast I have not been into it.
Again, a good write-up!