Humour

Present when absent

T A Balasubramanian on presence awareness—when appliances on a network can automatically be detected by other devices

You are entering gamely into the jungle terrain of the Techno Over-exposition of Geeks and Gizmos for Lazy Enterprises (TOGGLE), you, Papyrus Bytewala, CIO of Baffle Corporation, accompanied by Danny DeVito, your CTO, and also the first biped walking humanoid, when you come face-to-face, once again, with an old friend, Nawab Ghoda Ghallstone, Junior.

This burly reminder of the Raj still dresses in full regalia, even as he hands out his business card that names him grandly as the founder and CEO of Ghallstone Labs. The nawab, as usual, is full of bluster and effervescence. He stands in front of a huge poster of a handsome suited man with a gleaming gadget in his hand, pointing it skywards. Above it is emblazoned the line, ‘Reach Out and Catch Anyone Anywhere.’

“Well, well. Papyrus and Danny from Baffle, eh? So we meet again!” he exclaims, shaking hands energetically. He is wearing a flowing golden-yellow dress, and it is topped off by a matching turban with an emerald. “So have you found time to let my genie into Baffle? Avatar Baba is all set, my friends. But as you can see, we have now come up with even more magical solutions for mystified enterprises, so I must warn you that I will cast a bigger spell this time,” he roars, pumping his fist for effect.

“I am sure we will be entranced, nabob,” says DeVito. “So what have you conjured up now?”

“Ha, Danny, you are always ready to go for anything. Well, as you know, making a phone call has always been a game of chance. You never know whether the person you are calling is available. You just punch in the numbers and hope to get lucky. But no longer. We have Ringo Bond at your service.

“Ringo Bond? That debonair guy in the poster?”

“That’s right. He’s my brand ambassador. The device he is holding is Ringo. Now imagine this. Without connecting in any way, without dialing a single digit, what if you could learn whether my phone is in use, or in the case of my cellphone, whether it is even turned on. Now imagine being able to do the same thing with any wired or wireless device of the future—whether it is in your car, in an airplane or at your office.”

“Well, nabob, it would make me as good as Ringo Bond,” says DeVito, chuckling.

“Ha, ha. That is the idea behind our programming idea called presence awareness. It is based on the sneaky realization that appliances on a network can automatically be detected by other devices.”

“Especially for spies and detectives, I presume?” you say.

“Ah, true, Papyrus. But Ringo is far more advanced—it can let you read my mind. Or almost that. We have advanced presence technology here to give mobile phones and PDAs the ability to automatically learn about my whereabouts and preferences as I move, work and play. You can see that already in instant messaging—which makes it possible, say for you to locate and identify a user as soon as the user connects to your network.”

“Of course,” you nod gravely. “I can also see that the prospect of information that can reveal a person’s availability at a given moment, anywhere in the world would strike many people as both creepy and intriguing.”

“Intriguing, yes. But why creepy, Papyrus? My friend Groucho Goose, who conducts research on Internet relationships, has found that people are actually comforted when they can see the distant movements of people from their inner circles, like family and friends, or catch them when they are on their computers. Now Ringo can provide such solace.”

“Hey, I think I like that,” says DeVito. “You could instantaneously reach these people if you need them, eh? I know my mother would be extremely reassured if she could think, ‘Oh, Danny’s got off the plane; his cellphone came on; he’s landed.’ It would save me a lot of answering desperate calls every few minutes.”

“I still think it is creepy,” you assert with a sniff. “Danny may like the comfort it gives to his mother, but I would not like Ringo Bond watching my every move over my shoulder.”

“Well, I grant that there could be an unnerving feeling of being tracked, Papyrus,” says the nawab, unctuously. “That mild sensation has been experienced by millions of instant messaging, or IM users, but they have eventually got over it. Groucho tells me that over a hundred million people use instant-messaging products today, according to industry estimates, and many of those people say that their favorite aspect of the technology is the ability to see whether a buddy is online.”

“It still looks like a surveillance tool with a slick facade,” you say, glumly. “I know that my software guys detest this kind of snooping. They do not like the idea that supervisors can detect—and therefore monitor—exactly how long they had been online and how much time they had spent typing on their keyboards.”

“The point of presence technology, Papyrus, is that it is useful precisely because it senses what is going on without any action by a user. The digital generation, you know is comfortable with being constantly connected. Staying in touch electronically has become the badge of pride among the gadgeratti—these movers and shakers. They will gladly allow their presence to be known in exchange for the convenience of constant contact.”

“It is like leaving the front door open, and saying: ‘Come on in; don’t even knock,’ eh?” says DeVito.

“Precisely, Danny,” says the nawab. “But for those troubled by the lack of privacy, such as Papyrus here, we have found a way to get past your concern about people who may just want to lurk and spy. Ringo will be automatically turned on for people within small groups. People outside those groups have to get their colleagues’ permission to watch their movements.”

“And what if I simply want to be shut off from the world?” you ask.

“Well, if that be your desire, Ringo has permission features and other blocking tools,” says the nawab, radiantly. “However, Groucho tells me that his research discloses another surprise—social pressure can be a powerful disincentive. Many grouchy young techies who use instant messaging programs say they would not block their peers because they would not want to seem rude.”

“And why is that?”

“Consider an alert showing up on your screen: ‘Groucho wants to put you on his buddy list. Do you accept?’ If Groucho is merely a distant acquaintance, and you decline, will it look like a snub? Possibly not. Now suppose DeVito can tell that you are in your office, using your computer but not your phone. If he decides to call and you don’t answer, he may think: ‘Why not? Clearly you are available, Papyrus. Are you ignoring me?’”

“Yes, I think I would think exactly that, nabob,” says DeVito, nodding. They both look at you expectantly.

“All right,” you sigh. “So what else does Ringo Bond do to put my life up on a stage?”

“Hmm, Papyrus. But we are considerate too. You could extricate yourself from Ringo’s clutches often enough to keep your contacts guessing. Danny may determine that your mobile phone is on—and it very well may be—but it may also be sitting at your home, while you are away elsewhere.”

“That’s truly merciful, nawab. You guys think of everything.”