After announcing how important my call is, the automated voice intones that “due to a high volume, my wait time will be fourteen minutes.” Two observations: 1) “high volume” is likely a result of an inefficient phone tree system and/or inadequate staffing, and 2) My call is not particularly important to anyone but me. Understand, I don’t want to go online to solve my issue, which is what the bot keeps requesting that I do. I don’t want to listen to options which will not address the matter I want resolved. And, no, I don’t want to take a survey when I finish my call. Clearly, we have become sheep as robot herders insist we follow their commands. We have been commandeered. Do this. Do that. If you don’t follow the instructions framed by software, hang up and forget about it.
Recently, I went to a medical lab for a blood draw. When I entered the waiting room, hey, no receptionist—what’s all this then? Treating the situation like a locked-room problem, I approached a computer contraption mounted on a podium that posed commands. Okay. Tap the screen. All right. Place your driver’s license in the tray. Fine. Turn over the license to show the backside. Got it. Place your medical insurance card on the tray. Turn it over to show the flipside. All good. The computer decreed my name and wait time will appear on the screen above the intake door. Sheesh, okay. All set. Wait! An elderly couple walked in after I finished doing what I was directed to do, and they were puzzled to the point of paralysis (I assumed, to their credit, they were Luddites simply ignorant of digital procedures). I tried to help them get through the digital wickets, but they didn’t have a driver’s license and their medical paperwork didn’t fit into the tray. Finally, they turned around and left. Not until my name popped up on the screen mounted above the door did I encounter a human who appeared across the threshold holding a digital tablet. Then the phlebotomist who met me guided me down a hallway to her operatory, copied my paperwork and spent a few minutes getting clearance from the data divinities embedded somewhere in the ether or cloud or accounts receivable overlords as underscored by computer prompts. My risible conclusion settled on me when I found my bloodwork results online a few days later: humans have become nearly expendable for most business transactions. So shut up already, you human impediment.
Lately, I’ve encountered companies that don’t have phones. Facebook or Meta or whatever they call themselves does not have phone support because you can just go to hell and shut up about it. Why should they have contact with people’s troubles? The only way to access these immense companies is via email or internet chat. Huge companies just don’t want to talk to people and listen to their problems. Why should they? Callers too often are angry or frustrated and unnecessary to smooth business operations just because Acme International, LTD doesn’t give a hoot or holler about the annoyance people often express. So what if you don’t like it. Talk to the wall, why don’t you?
Clearly, we are being forced to follow the ultimations of automation. It is impossible to avoid the network of data collection and algorithms that follow and define us. Also, we must do what bots tell us to do. We must succumb to the directions spelled out in computer code. It’s obligatory. If you don’t enter the proper response in the box provided, you will not be able to continue. If you refuse to comply, as I sometimes do, you are denied service. In some ways, we are herded and counted and defined and analyzed by the chutes and ladders we must navigate. You got a problem with that?
Complex snags usually cannot be solved by punching keys as a response to a phone bot, can they? Not yet anyway. We remain in the upswing curve of history where a human is necessary to address and solve complicated issues. Might not be the case a few decades forward, but for now we are essential. Alas, one must negotiate one’s way through the bot defenses before reaching an actual person. Too often, one must circle around phone tree hell to finally talk to a person. If a person is on duty.
Surely you’ve been at a restaurant that promotes using QR codes to present menus and to place an order. Of course, if you didn’t bring a smart phone or don’t have one, you must request a hardcopy menu. If you have a phone with a camera and the ability to scan a code, you may find the print too small and scrolling a problem as you look for daily specials, which probably aren’t accessible. In addition, come on, when patrons take out phones the temptation presents itself to check emails and messages and whatever else they find they find as a digital distraction. A tableful of diners looking at their phones will likely blunt the joy of eating out.
I remember chuckling over a cartoon that makes the point perfectly. The scene: a college classroom. On the podium is a tape recorder. The professor is a no-show for the day’s class, and his recorded lecture is playing. All the student seats are empty; however, each student desk features a tape recorder, so students can record the recorded lecture. Funny, huh? Even so, someone has to push “Play” and “Record.”