Remember what it was like before our lives were ruled by algorithms, AI, autopay, QR codes, social media, virtual chats, usernames and passwords?
I remember when you could go to a store and a well-trained person was on hand to assist you if you couldn’t find what you were looking for. My dad owned a small haberdashery in a town where the customer was always right, the prices were fair, and the proprietor kept his patrons happy. It was a time when you paid your bills by check, queries were handled in person or by phone and disputes were quickly resolved, although they were infrequent.
By the time I went to college times were changing. My father lost his business when box stores began appearing and being on your own took over. The chain stores quickly became ubiquitous, dotting the landscape with giant square buildings competing for customers.
When I went to graduate school the Information Age with all its ramifications began taking shape. Precursors to cell phones excited folks even though giant computers were frustrating students who used them to do research that involved inserting stacks of cards into big machines.
Fast forward to the 21st century and you will understand the frustrations of living in an impersonal, stressful, infuriating new world. It’s one in which computers and corporations have taken over our lives and made artful obfuscation a new art. I experienced this in its highest form recently and my frustrated reaction makes Lady McBeth look relatively normal.
Here’s an example. When my husband and I traveled abroad I chose Air France to fly to Europe because I am terrified to set foot on a Boeing aircraft. Confirmation of our flights revealed in the fine print that our return flight was operated by Delta. That’s an American company I didn’t trust prior to Boeing planes scaring me out of the skies. I choose my Airlines carefully. It shouldn’t be up to the airline to decide which carrier I use.
When we boarded, we found ourselves ushered to Row 43, the last row in a huge jumbo jet, in front of the toilet. We had booked Row 22 and now there was no way to change seats. Why allow passengers to choose their seats if they can be arbitrarily changed? The same thing happened on another internal Air France flight.
But the kicker was that our return flight was cancelled at the last minute, leaving us with a six-hour delay, and the need to overnight in a Boston hotel having missed our pre-paid bus to our car.
This was followed by numerous calls to Air France customer service, in which I encountered a stubborn virtual assistant. I persisted, voice raised, because by European Union law, we were entitled to a full refund for our return tickets. It took threatening legal action before I finally received an email that the refund would be issued within 60 days. (It was).
Then I received my Verizon phone bill, which had overcharges of $220. To get credit, I talked to five agents over weeks, explaining that the international plan I’d purchased never worked. Additionally, despite not having signed up for the daily plan, my husband received twelve texts on his cell which shouldn’t have been there.
“Oh,” said the first agent, “he should have been on airplane mode.” I explained that he hardly knows how to use a cell phone. Each agent I spoke to read me the same script about customer care blah blah blah and assured, indeed promised, that those charges would be removed, and I’d be called back in a few days before my bill was due. None of them called. It was all smoke, mirrors and lies. You’d think Donald Trump was the CEO.
When we moved house two years ago, Comcast gave us the wrong email addresses and landline number after I’d printed 500 business cards and alerted family and friends of our new contact information. We also went through hell trying to access everything from bank accounts to credit cards to companies who were paid by autopay because their websites wouldn’t recognize our usernames or passwords. All this was followed by a hack that rendered me the “mad lady in the attic.”
There’s no end to this kind of dysfunction which holds us hostage in a dystopian tech world gone mad. Sadly, the future looks bleak given corporate power, lack of regulatory policies, and a frightening explosion of artificial intelligence.
I need all the strength I can muster to face the increasingly unfriendly world. But right now, I have to stop writing. Staples has finally called back to say my new laptop is ready.
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Elayne Clift writes from Brattleboro, Vt.