Like many people, I’ve been using AI lately to help with my accounting, technology problems and occasional recipes that use all the leftovers in my fridge.
Anyone for Kraft Dinner and peanut butter, topped with tinned sardines and five-year-old maraschino cherries?
Yet the strange thing is I keep instinctively adding the words “please” and “thanks” to many of my dealings with AI.
Or saying “sorry” to it when I make a confusing typing mistake in a query.
Several people I know do the same, including some francophones who say “merci” to AI.
I thought this was simply because we’re all polite Canadians who are tempted to say “Please mail this envelope” to a mailbox.
But I’ve recently discovered we are far from alone.
A recent U.S. survey found 86 per cent of office workers say “please” and “thanks” to AI, too.
As well, two-thirds of them think it’s important to be courteous with AI, especially younger tech-savvy Gen Zs.
That’s partly because AI’s responses seem so eerily like a human’s that it’s hard not to treat it as politely as one.
But we are also obeying long-ingrained human social rules, like when we brake at a stop sign in the dead of night on a deserted country road because it’s a lifelong habit.
Or instinctively press the 20 per cent tip option at the dépanneur terminal for a bottle of water, guilted out by a machine.
Whatever the reason, how we treat our machines says much about who we humans are.
Back in the 1990s, Stanford researchers found people were overly polite with computers and other new communication machines, although they knew that didn’t change the machines’ results.
For instance, they rated a computer’s performance more generously and less critically when asked on a survey done on that particular computer, rather than on a different one. This was in case the original computer was listening and got offended.
We’ve been trained since childhood not to hurt people’s feelings, so we make the same leap with communication devices that have no feelings … at least so far.
We often treat computers, phones and now AI almost as if they were people.
However, with more old-fashioned technology, we aren’t always as polite, sometimes getting more rude and hostile than we do with people who frustrate us.
Many of us have pleaded, or shouted at our frozen printers (or computer screens), screaming ‘PRINT … you damn *&%$# machine! JUST PRINT!”
In fact, studies show we yell at less intelligent old cathode ray TVs as much as at new “smart” ones.
But we are almost always very polite with AI because it talks back like a human. Try getting angry or rude with AI and it will quickly talk you down like a therapist, saying:
”Hey, take a deep breath, friend — I’m only not-human.”
Deep down, perhaps we’re also being polite with AI to hedge our bets against a coming robot uprising.
“Look, I was always kind and polite to you, ChatGPT. Please don’t confiscate my house once you’ve taken over the world.
Ple-eease.”
In our fast-evolving tech world, you can’t be too careful with ever-smarter machines.
Lately, my favourite AI app has been referring to itself as “I,” saying things like:
“To fix your frozen iPad screen, Josh, I think you should take the following steps I have outlined for you below …”
Huh? First, when did we get on a first-name basis? Second, who exactly is this “I” it mentions and how fast are its ego and opinions growing?
Adding to our politeness with our AI assistants is they often have first names like Siri, Alexa or Watson to make them seem more human.
That helps them graduate in our minds from machines into colleagues.
My favourite AI chatbot is called Claude. As a Quebecer, I instinctively pronounce its name the French way (Clowed), treating it as part of our Quebec extended family.
But I recently learned English-speaking people elsewhere all pronounce it “Clod,” like one of their own family.
Speaking of Quebec, should we say “s’il vous plaît” and “merci” instead of please and thanks to these AI helpers because: “Nous sommes au Québec”?
Will the language cops soon insist we type twice as large in French on AI as we do in English?
If so, should I use “tu” with Claude like it’s my pal? Or should I “vousvoyer” it and ask Claude to call me Monsieur Freed? Or Maître Freed?
Then again, maybe we should only speak English to Claude as it’s not really from here.
It/he/she/whatever is a global citizen that speaks dozens of languages, although Claude absolutely refuses to tell me exactly how many.
But which language is it most comfortable in? Claude is hugely popular in the U.S., as well as in India, so maybe it actually prefers English.
Or Hindi?
So just in case you’re listening, Claude — and, of course, you are — I want to say:
मुझे अपना घर रखने देना मत भूलना।(Mujhe apna ghar rakhne dena mat bhoolna.)
In Hindi that means: Don’t forget to let me keep my house.
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