Humour

Chaibo rebels again

T A Balasubramanian on Chaibo’s refusal to be a help desk.

The assembled team at Bangalore from the Chaibo Evolution Committee continues deliberations in the modern laboratory of Ironica Robotica. Prof Ironica Asimova, Founder, and her comely associate and Senior Researcher, Nina Nilgiri, who has created Chaibo’s programs, are the hosts. Brooke Bond, your Systems Officer, and you, Papyrus Bytewala, CIO of Baffle Corporation, complete the human team. The issue under test is how Chaibo, freshly programmed with emotions, can be put through further hoops in the interest of getting more corporate bang for the buck, as your CFO, Fin Fina, has often put it, much to your discomfiture.

“Maybe we should program Chaibo to be a help desk,” says Bond, thoughtfully. You look at him, wondering how the thaw has set in, and you see that he’s quite taken up with Nina. In fact, he seems to be fascinated by Nina’s delicate gestures, following her every move like a moth looking at a flame.

“A help desk?” says Nina, arching a dark eyebrow and smiling at him. “How would that help Chaibo evolve further?”

“These days most help desk calls are initially fielded by an automated telephone voice, placed there to shield sensitive staff from cruel customers who may want to unload all kinds of real or imagined peeves and grudges on some distant object of disaffection,” says Bond.

“I know what a help desk is,” says Nina, patiently. “What I want to know is just how this function is going to make Chaibo more utilitarian for Baffle’s own internal customers, such as yourself, and others like Papyrus here.”

“Well, we don’t have meetings all the time, fortunately. What does a chai server do when there are no meetings? He’s just sitting around uselessly, occupying space, is he not?” says Bond.

“That’s true, Bond,” you say, nodding. Fin Fina has already been pointing out that no resource ought to be idle in Baffle, unless, of course, that’s been built into the job description. As in the number of hours set aside for meetings.

“So if Chaibo is merely expressing his opinion to the world at large in a blog during his idle time, as a robot in good standing with Baffle, what use would that opinion be to anyone other than like-minded or outraged opinion spouters?”

“So you’re suggesting that Chaibo be re-purposed as an opinionated help desk during his spare time in order to make him more productive?” you say.

“Exactly,” says Bond, smugly, directing a wave with his hand at Nina.

“Excuse me, does any one of you want my honest opinion?” says Chaibo, who has been listening avidly to the discussion about re-purposing him. He has his two metallic arms on his hips, and his eyes blink with amber to show that his temper is rising. Like traffic lights, Chaibo’s signals move from green to amber to red to show his mood swings.

“One moment, please,” says Ironica, raising a slender finger, and touching Chaibo’s bald dome gently to placate him before he blows, “But are robots not entitled to some spare time? If we can have tea or coffee breaks, lunch breaks and periods of idle time at work, why not let Chaibo have these too? So why are we determined to see laziness in robot at rest?”

“That’s right, Ironica,” says Chaibo, pumping his fist up in the air. “You’re a real champion of the robotic way of life. And here is my assessment. I love the way you express yourself.”

“Not when Fin Fina is breathing down my neck to get higher return on investment for all my resources,” you say, quickly. “Which is why we thought getting Chaibo to blog would be a good stretch of his …capabilities. We have given him a whole new personality now, with feelings as well, and he is a persuasive speaker, I must admit. So now that Bond has dreamed up the new role, why not have Chaibo turn into a help desk as well?”

“But what have we got other than neuroses by stripping away all the available spare time we humans have, Papyrus?” says Ironica, oozing charm now, while Chaibo continues to glow next to her, moving around her feet like an excited poodle.

“Being wired all day and all night, is that really so good for you, Papyrus?” she continues, wagging her finger at you, “Just think of the opportunity loss. I say that when it is your own personal free time that is being squeezed, the consequences are more severe than eliminating slack in physical goods inventory. On a long trip, say on a bus or train, for example, I am busy typing because I’m not sleeping, reading, or looking out of the window and thinking, even though all these are simple activities I also enjoy and need. As I talk on my car phone—or, most likely, listen to my voice mail—while commuting, I can no longer listen to my favourite radio programme or read my favourite kind of romantic fiction.”

“True for us since we’re organic creatures, Ironica,” says Bond. “But what about Chaibo? He’s got feelings, but those are not like …you know …real feelings. It’s just what Nina has put inside his memory sticks, after all. He’s not likely to suffer if he loses all his idle time, does he?”

“Says who, bozo?” says Chaibo, belligerently, swirling suddenly on his wheeled base to confront Bond, who backs away instinctively, startled. “You think all my feelings aren’t real, huh? You think all these are Nina’s creation? I’ve never known a better systems guy, but as a man, you’re a snake. You don’t punish for discipline. You like to see me crawl. Well, let me tell you something, you bullying genetically advanced organism—I don’t intend to be your help desk, now, or ever. Sometimes, I’d like to push your desk down the window, with you on it.”

“Wow, Chaibo, I am shaken and stirred,” says Nina. “You’re adapting dialogue from Mutiny on the Bounty and adding your own spin, you sly silicon creature.”

Bond, however, is not lost in admiration. He looks like he has lost his power of speech.