This is a true event that has put me into deep thinking for several weeks. I earned a second master’s degree and a certificate in global sustainability last December. I was informed by my alma mater that I would receive these two documents by postal mail this March. Due to COVID-19 restrictions, mailing delivery by USPS and online communication between people who telework may be slower than under normal circumstances. But never should COVID-19 become an excuse for scatterbrains to dodge duties that require full attention and execution.
Everyone is her own boss. I didn’t receive the two academic documents as scheduled, and I had to be my own advocate to follow through about the unfinished business. In my message to my alma mater I’d stated clearly and precisely—unless the recipient didn’t understand English—that the two documents had not been received. I enclosed my message with my detailed personal information. My email didn’t get a response. I wrote a second email to my department’s program coordinator and finally through her I had my answer. The school agreed to resend the academic documents to me. To my delight, on April 17 I received my diploma. But my certificate was not in the same mail. My admin professionalism got called out. Again, I wrote a follow-up email; again, no response from the administrator; and again, through the helpful coordinator, I had my answer. The school agreed to place a new order for the certificate. It would arrive in a month. A domestic postal service takes a month? I wonder where the certificate is manufactured and shipped from.
My misfortune in communication hasn’t ended. This is a second case study based on my real life experience. I was able to receive my first jab of Pfizer vaccine in early March. I was told on site that the system in which I registered would notify me in the following three weeks for a second shot. That was a human-to-human conversation. So no way did I not believe what I heard. After three weeks had passed and I was still naively waiting for the notification that I was promised, I realized that my hope was false. So in the fourth week after my first jab, I dialed the hotline of the vaccination provider. Before I could finally speak to a human, I had to go through a host of unintelligent questions asked by a supposedly intelligent robotic voice. In the end, I was scheduled to have my second shot of vaccination in early May because the April calendar was already full.
If time is money, I really wasted a substantial amount of money on a daily basis to conduct business with human-to-machine dialogue. Oftentimes I have no choice. It’s not that I don’t want to communicate with a human but the customer service end is more likely equipped with some sort of computerized technology. Where do the humans go?
Moreover, in my first case study, I know the administrator wasn’t deliberately overlooking my early email request for two academic documents. But why would he send only one document to me? My analysis is when machines have won the trust of humans, humans are prone to nonperform and ignore basic skills. If we continue to perform due diligence with or without the assistance of an electronic device, our vigilance will remain as sharp as a pin. This is one of the reasons why I do not take digital convenience for granted. Multiple studies show the more we chew our food, the more nutrients and energy our body can absorb. The less we use our brain, the dumber we become. Can I infer that if we rely on robots to finish our sentences, we will lose the ability—let alone the pleasure—of carrying out an in-depth conversation with our human species?
Since social distancing kicked off in 2020, the impact of artificial intelligence in medicine has been the swiftest ever. If the pandemic enables healthcare providers to replace their human employees in customer service with humanlike robotic voices and mobile applications, I’m afraid that we will be living in an ever-more stressful society. Technostress is not something we can sweep under the rug. Technostress gives rise to anxiety, depression and loneliness. When we feel lonely, especially when we are practicing social distancing, we tend to seek pleasure, for example, from an online shopping spree. The more we buy, the happier we believe we are. The sellers are definitely the happiest. Every consumer is contributing to the piggy bank of Amazon or China’s Taobao with their hard-earned money and unique personal data. This is how overconsumption, overproduction and overpollution form a reinforcing vicious cycle.
Speaking of personal data, I have the third case study. I received a brochure by mail from my bank, in which it read:
“Privacy notice—your right to opt-out, providing us with access to your information permits us to offer you distinct advantages and better service. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. . . Unless you tell us otherwise and opt-out, (i) the XYZ Company (ies) with which you have a business relationship may share information about your creditworthiness with other XYZ Companies or (ii) other XYZ Companies may use your personal information for marketing purposes.”
If businesses are really serious about protecting consumer’s personal data, shouldn’t the literature be rewritten as “Your right to opt-in”? It’s my data, I have the right to release it the way I want. On what grounds is my data already sold to my bank without my knowledge so that I have to take initiative to getting it back? How many users will read through the customized Cookie Law from the website they’re about to surf? I bet many users just select “Accept” without a second thought. The update of a browser and mobile applications is an upgrade for the service providers to perfect the technology of gathering customer’s data to their advantage. As said, we are our own boss but we are not our own lawyer. Not to mention those who are illiterate, disabled, and mentally challenged and unable to protect their data. If the purpose of collecting data is merely for profit with little regulation, it will make the disadvantaged more vulnerable to cybercrime and other adverse consequences.
On March 28 this year, a cargo ship was stuck in the Suez Canal near Suez, Egypt. It took nearly a week before salvage teams freed the colossal container ship. However, over 420 vessels that awaited to use the busy canal were victims as well. Billions of dollars a day in maritime commerce was lost like vapor. I had thought this story could have appeared in the newspaper in the 1960s, not today. In the digital era, shouldn’t problem-solving communication resolve such a shipping crisis faster and more effectively? What held up the communication in this case study? We might blame technical problem for communication. Poor human-to-human communication is a pre-pandemic problem. It will get worse if we cannot strike a balance between in-person communication and algorithm-driven communication.
Technology is a double-edged sword. While we’re acknowledging its advantage to humanity especially in science research, supply chain management and addressing socio-economic inequalities, we must also acknowledge that technology can increase societal insecurity and psychological imbalance. Inviting technology to this complicated and complex communication interface, we are merely adding or replacing the old problem with a new challenge. We, as humans, have never stopped learning since birth how to communicate well. The art of communication is a lifelong science in and of itself. This is a hard-earned degree.