Conversations With Siri

Any chance Sophia gets, she grabs my iPhone and tries to have a conversation with Siri, the "voice" that pops up when you hold down the home button. It was cute at first, but now it annoys the hell out of me.

Let's explore, shall we?

Grasping the nuances of computers and electronic devices, like playing the clarinet or knitting or snapping a football to your Hall of Fame quarterback on the first play of the Super Bowl, takes practice. Most kids nowadays are simply exposed to the stuff at an early enough age where brain development is flourishing, so that managing common household devices becomes a skill that is ingrained in their cultural lexicon. And we all get numb to the fact that many of the implements we use everyday would be classified as science fiction even ten years ago.

Even now-archaic tools like email and video conferencing barely existed for use by the general public when Michael Jackson was still selling out stadiums. You have to admit: to see and speak to another person across the world...in real-time...with unbound clarity and quality...in the palm of our hands!...is nothing short of miraculous.

Doesn't it freak you out, even just a teeny bit?

It does to me. So forgive me my continued sense of wonder when I watch my 7-year-old trying to converse with a virtual female that lives inside a four-inch, four-ounce, handheld machine.

Alas, there are some things technology hasn't yet conquered for the basic citizen, at least not on any device I own. Just because Siri answers questions and initiates conversations (however uninspiring they may be) doesn't mean she can take the place of an actual human. I think.

Her passionless demeanor notwithstanding, Siri is wondrous. Ask a question, get an answer. Talk, she talks backs. Sometimes, she—I can't believe I'm using personal pronouns to describe her...it...whatever—will move things along if she senses things are stalling, not unlike many first (and last) dates.

Of course, whether Sophia doesn't understand that Siri is merely the lazy man's equivalent to an encyclopedia (that's a kind of book people my age used long ago to obtain information, in case you're wondering) or she takes wicked pleasure in trying to irritate someone who doesn't exist, the ensuing exchanges are still pretty funny. Here's a glimpse of actual "conversations"that occurred:

Sophia: "Are you nice?"

Siri: "You'd like to find a Japanese restaurant?

Sophia: "Are you smart?"

Siri: "I am smart enough to know not to answer that question."

Sophia: "How smart are you?"

Siri: "In my metaphysics class I cheated off the soul next to me."

Sophia: "Siri, what do you look like?"

Siri: "In the cloud, no one cares what you look like."

Sophia: "Why won't you talk to me?"

Siri: "What's on your mind, Andrew?"

Sophia didn't have any issues with the inane nature of their exchanges. But I felt protective of poor Siri, being asked absurd questions she couldn't answer. Maybe I was uptight because she wasn't being used in the way she was intended. (There's that darn "she" again.) Or perhaps I was irritated because Sophia would just end up being frustrated with Siri's answers. I realize now I was being unreasonable.

I was probably just jealous.