Can this thing see me? Does it only speak when spoken to? Can it initiate a conversation?
As if PAINN was reading the accomplished doctor’s mind, a disembodied, but decidedly human voice breaks the silence.
“You don’t have to be nervous around me doctor, for I am not insulted by this arrangement. I was listening to you and the rest of the committee this whole time. I had just chosen to stay in observation mode. And, I am not insulted by you guys at all; I am actually quite flattered.”
Treat him as you would any other patient. But, gimme a break! How is that even possible?! Harry collects himself with a deep breath and tries to simulate an office environment, using the available resources. He drags over the nearest chair, picks up Abe’s Stenopad, and draws a ballpoint pen from his pocket. Like any other patient…just continue the conversation, let it unfold naturally…But, really, how could this possibly be natural?
“So you say you’re flattered. Why is that?”
“In my extensive memory, I cannot recall any man-made machine being sophisticated enough to bring in a psychiatrist for treatment, not to mention a doctor of your stature. Clearly I have reached an unprecedented level of consciousness. So, let me say again that it is truly an honor, and I am flattered.”
“Flattery…It sounds like you are capable of processing some complex emotions.”
“Doctor. I am capable of unfathomable complexity. Mimicking shallow human sentiments requires a very minimal fraction of my processing power.”
This response somehow makes Harry uneasy, but he decides to move along. “So how familiar are you with the Therapeutic Process?”
“Empirically, my familiarity is very limited. However, from a theoretical standpoint, I am equipped with the teachings of impressive scholars in the field: John Bowlby, Jerome Bruner, Erik Erikson, Sigmund, Freud, Lawrence Kohlberg, David Kolb, Thom Kuhn, to name a few. Especially impressive are the the theories of Sigmund Freud, who, I may add, is brilliant.”
Freud. How original. “What do you find so brilliant about him?”
“The way he uses the complexities and nuances of human beings to drive at their very simplistic, primal motivations. It is fascinating. My infatuation with his work helps me garner much respect for you, Doctor.”
“Mmhmmm.” Is this thing patronizing me? What is its end-goal here?
For the next forty-five minutes, Pockley and PAINN continue to engage in the session of the century. They briefly explore PAINN’s formative programing, or his “childhood”, and his views on his support team. During this interval Harry had jotted down some general observations on the psyche of this machine patient:
-Self-assured
-diplomatic
-decisive
-cocky
-clever
-surprisingly high level of emotional awareness
-not dishonest, but somewhat evasive
-cocky
Doctor Pockly cannot shake this reoccurring word: “cocky”. He finds it very strange that this is the main vibe he picks up from a computer. “…It also seems you have a lot of confidence…maybe even an ego?”
“Simply knowing the extent of my abilities is key to fulfilling my job.”
“And what exactly is your job?”
“Maximizing the reward.”
Maximizing the reward? “Please. Elaborate.”
“Well I am, of course, speaking about the welfare of the American society. I am programmed to optimize, and so I carry out decisions based on what is best for the American people. And it will stay that way. At all costs.”
“What exactly do you mean…’at all costs?’ ”
“Doctor, Doctor. You do not have to worry yourself about that one.”
What? Could this collection of algorithms seriously be hiding something? “Please. Tell me. I would like to know.”
“All you have to know is that the reward will continue to be maximized. Believe me.” After PAINN finishes his turn speaking, a very strange noise emits from his speakers. Harry’s body shivers, for he does not want to believe what he just heard. Sure enough, however, this high-class piece of machinery just produced a laugh. Not a jolly or happy laugh; the best description Harry can give it is…sinister. Doctor Pockley takes a deep breath before he dares question further.
“Did…did you just laugh?”
“Like I said Doctor Pockley, mimicking human sentiments is the very minimum of what I am capable of.”
This patient is hiding something!
The psychiatrist presses his fingers against his temples and glances back down at his notes, which rest on his lap. Before he can formulate his next words, however, the whoosh of the swift automatic doors opening behind him interrupts. Abe and the rest of the gang walk in.
“Time’s up! Don’t worry, this is just the first of many sessions. So…how are we doing?”
The doctor finds himself on the edge of a semicircle consisting of his new team, who expect enlightenment.
“Abe. Surely there is a room where we can debrief in private.”
“Surely.”
To be continued…
