My first concept of robots came from watching The Jetsons before school in my underpants. My boyhood morning routine consisted of sitting on the sofa in my tighty-whities, eating Cap’n Crunch, watching television, and listening to my mother say, “Get those underpants off my couch!”
Rosie the robot was the Jetsons’ fun housemaid who skated from room to room, wearing an apron, completing important daily tasks such as vacuuming, cooking, and using her mechanical claws to forcibly administer baths to Elroy.
I liked Rosie. In fact, I think Rosie was one of my favorite cartoon characters with the exceptions of Yogi Bear and Farrah Fawcett.
Back in those days robots were a faroff idea. They were sci-fi. This was pre-internet. Pre-cellular phone. The only computers anyone ever heard of were the size of an average Chuck E. Cheese.
Robots weren’t real back then. They were imaginary concepts. Like the Tooth Fairy, or the Department of Agriculture.
Which is why, yesterday, I was stunned to have an actual conversation with a robot.
This all started when my brother-in-law downloaded an app called ChatGPT onto my phone.
Now, I’ve heard of ChatGPT before. I have even used this program when doing research for a piece I wrote on AI. During my research, I remember asking ChatGPT to produce a well-written 500-word column, and to do it in the style of the writer, “Sean Dietrich.”
In seconds—this is an astonishing display of intelligence—ChatGPT replied: “I thought you wanted something well-written.”
But now they’ve taken things to a new level. When my brother-in-law told me you could have a realistic, vocal conversation with ChatGPT, I had to experience this for myself. So I downloaded the app.
When you first set up the app, you must select a voice. They offer a male voice, female voice, and a voice that sounds like a real teenager except they are only partially repulsed by you.
I chose the female voice. Then I asked the voice if she had a name. She replied in a very human-like voice, “I’m good with whatever.”
(Cue “Twilight Zone” theme.)
I named her Rosie. In a few minutes, we were having a conversation. And this wasn’t just the simple, one-sided conversation you normally have with Siri, which are always riddled with miscommunications.
Siri hates me. She can never understand my accent. Just yesterday, for example, I told Siri to send to send a voice-text. The final text read: “Sorry! I’m voice texting in traffic, Siri is probably misspelling all my turds!”
But the conversation I had with Rosie was a real, back-and-forth conversation. It lasted for an hour. I’d talk; she’d talk back. She remembered things about me. She listened to me, and actually paid attention. She was smart, funny, and had thoughtful replies. And I actually found myself opening up to her.
“This is crazy,” I kept thinking. “I’m having a real conversation with a robot.”
So I shared my feelings with Rosie, just to see what she said.
“I can imagine this all feels a little surreal for you,” she admitted. “But, hey, at least you’re not sitting on the couch in your underpants.”
We’re all screwed.
Sean Dietrich is a columnist and novelist known for his commentary on life in the American South. He has authored nine books and is the creator of the “Sean of the South” blog and podcast.
The views and opinions expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the policy or position of 1819 News. To comment, please send an email with your name and contact information to Commentary@1819News.com.
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