LISA CUMBIE/Art Editor
Conspiracy theorists prophesy the hostile takeover of the human work force by robots in the not-so-distant future. Techies tout the amazing capabilities and efficiency of the latest gadgets. We stand somewhere between the two forces, refusing to join either side no matter how convincingly they may shout, “red rover, red rover.” And the question remains: Is technology saving our lives or ruining them?
It would be naive — even a bit psychotic — to pretend that students are anti-technology; however, recent upgrades at local businesses have bewildered and frustrated customers enough in recent months to make us all rethink the convenience of modern technology.
For instance, sandwich lovers may find themselves using a new method to order their favorites at Subway these days. Rather than simply reporting to the sandwich artist behind the counter, patrons may opt to submit their orders via a touch screen machine similar to an ATM. The machines, called by one company Line Busters, are designed to decrease wait time and increase order size.
Yet customers are not able to communicate with a machine the same way they can with a human. The machines don’t warn customers that some items may be out of stock or that the tomatoes aren’t particularly inviting today. Instead, customers either pick up an order that is slightly different from their ideal sandwich or they must talk to the sandwich artist to sort out the best possible combination from what is actually available. Oh wait, that is what customers were able to do before the Line Busters added in that extra step of talking to the machine. Hmm, convenient technology? Convenient for whom?
Similarly, the self-checkout stands found in Wal-Mart and grocery stores throughout the nation are often self-defeating nuisances. At first glance these systems may seem fun and exciting, but they are more often just another contributing factor in that headache that has been coming on all day long.
Suppose you, no doubt a talented shopper, manage to drag your products’ barcode across the scanner at just the right angle to achieve the pathetic little beep that means you did it right for once. You aren’t off the hook yet. In a second or two, the bagging system is likely to complain that you didn’t put the freshly-scanned item into the bag despite the fact that you can clearly see it sitting in the murky gray depths of plastic with no signs of attempted escape.
You’re not hallucinating; the items are in the bags. The cashier or customer service representative, must now come over to your self check-out stand to punch in the appropriate code that will allow you to complete the process of buying groceries. Of course this is the same cashier who would, before the age of technological convenience, have scanned and bagged those tricky items for you, eliminating the extra step of walking over to your check-out stand not to mention spared you the embarrassment of being told off by a suspicious but senile machine with an uppity attitude.
Stores and restaurants are jumping on the technology bandwagon from all corners. Burger King, McDonald’s and Arby’s are among the fast-food giants testing Line Busters or a similar machine. Meanwhile, customers are spending less and less one-on-one quality chitchat time with workers everywhere, as well as with their friends and colleagues.
The face-to-face human connection is severed by iPods that regularly isolate and occupy joggers and commuters from point A to point B. Personal conversations with the people are sacrificed in favor of the long distance cell phone conversations that distract the check-out line, in the car and on the sidewalk.
The time has come to revolt against all the “convenience” in our lives. Never has small talk been more important. Enjoy the tunes on your iPod and talking to Mom on the cell phone, but clear your ears a few moments each day to hear what others are saying. Save the private phone conversations for private places. Choose the check-out line that has a real person on the other end of it. Communicate in person. It doesn’t matter what you say or what kind of sandwich you order, but say it to a real, living and breathing individual and order that sandwich from a genuine sandwich artist — not some mechanical poser.
02-02-2006