Artificial(ish) Intelligence

Chapter 36

Adelaide snatched at the cannister.

This wasn't how it was meant to go down. Josef should have agreed to her plan, welcomed the AI with open arms, then used it to push development in his own company, as a rival to Mr Borken. Now he was going to miss out. Now she was going to miss out -- on her revenge. The plan was for House of Paschar's future to suffer. Since his company was inexorably linked to his own feelings of self worth, Mr Borken himself would suffer.

Instead, she had to abort the plan and return home with her tail between her legs.

She pushed the edible contents of the cannister out of sight and watched a random recommended stream.

"...a small unconditional stipend to provide for the basic living conditions of every citizen, no matter who they are or what they do, independent of any other income."

It was the same host and same show as the one she saw the day before with Josef as a guest, but today the topic was different. It continued:

"Made possible by the economy of abundance generated from widespread automation, the universal basic income succeeded every other social assistance program within a few short years."

"Citizen's dividend," said a man more at home in front of a model railway set than the screen. He licked his upper lip and elaborated. "The system should be called a citizen's dividend for just that reason, we all share in the proceeds of the massive productivity gains from automation."

"Names aren't important," said an older woman in a perm. "The focus must be on the incentives this gives -- or doesn't give -- to work in the new economy."

"We'll get to that in a moment," said the host, Barbara. "This certainly is a controversial--"

"What work?" said the train controller. "It's no longer tenable for a young person to expect..."

Adelaide looked at the result of her own working life: a flashy apartment in the hub of the city, surrounded by people who didn't know her, and wouldn't care to.

"The scheme has attracted its share of critics," continued Barbara. "Perhaps you'd like to provide your own objections, Ms Shingler."

"Happy to," said the permed woman. "Where do I start? The higher crime rate in many cities?"

"That's not happening," said Mr Reckey, leaning forward, licking his lip once more. "Statistically, the number has dropped nationwide."

"The national rate doesn't help the individual who's just been assaulted, or worse," said Ms Shingler. "And yet here we are telling them their stories don't matter."

"Most of that increase is attributable to a misguided approach to go tough on drug possession in safe--"

"Exactly! It's worse than the Opium dens of the nineteenth century. Rooms full of whacked out -- dare I say, people -- barely conscious."

"They aren't causing society any harm."

"We're taking away their incentive to improve their pitiful lives. We need hard workers to provide for the stability of our economy."

"You mean wage-slaves," said Mr Reckey.

"Where's the work ethic?"

"It's still there."

"Nothing like in my day. Why do these slackers get to bludge while I have to work? Answer me that."

"OK," said Barbara. "OK. This is wonderful. You're both fired up. Let's take on some of the benefits, now. Mr Reckey."

"Thank you," said Mr Reckey. "Instead of forcing a citizen to work, just to survive, the scheme provides for opportunities to start their new companies, to take larger risks, knowing that the downside of failure won't leave them bankrupt. Exemplified by vegan entrepreneur, Oak Deer, who was able to create her meat substitute empire without any prior business experience."

"That would have happened regardless," said Ms Shingler. "Deer is a driven individual, an attribute the ewe-bee-eye is systematically stealing."

"Not at all," said Mr Reckey. "It's given everyone the opportunity to find their own purpose in life, unconstrained by the financial motive. Whether that's art, science, or, ahem, model railways. In fact, there's evidence emerging that people are engaging in their communities more than ever."

"Tosh!" said Ms Shingler.

"Wonderful, wonderful," said Barbara. "Just wonderful. We'll have get you both back for--"

"I'd go further," said Mr Reckey, "and push for an increased allowance for all those participating in community service or environmental projects."

Adelaide sat back in her deep leather couch. She wouldn't get more respect relying solely on the UBI. That would only happen by proving her worth at growing a business, by becoming indispensable. But word spreads fast, so leaving House of Paschar in a professional way would find her black balled from the industry. Now that she didn't have a buyer, the sneaky way was out, too. Sure, she could sell it to some other no-name company, but that wouldn't truly affect Mr Borken.

She slipped off a high-heel and rubbed her foot, still sore from the multi-function black & white laser printer's 21.4kg weight. This kind of pain would heal. What didn't was the intensely personal long-term infliction caused by hitting a man's weak points. That's what she was after. Being in HR meant understanding human psychology, those elements that drive individuals the most.

The panellists argued over where the money for the UBI should be coming from, automated production or higher taxes on wealth.

Adelaide had planned on marching into Mr Borken's office tomorrow morning and throwing money on the table, the proceeds of selling his precious AI to Josef Hydan Junior. She couldn't help but laugh at the thought of his emasculated face.

One way or another she'd make it happen. Revenge wasn't the kind of meal Adelaide skipped.