I’ll admit, I am still undecided when it comes to the benefits Artificial Intelligence will bring to humankind. On one-hand, I like the idea of having a verbal relationship with my car and appliances. I can make outrageous demands and they will simply say “sorry I can’t do that” in a HAL sort of voice. On the other-hand, those same appliances might study my vulnerabilities for months and then kill me in my sleep. But, here is what I REALLY hope AI can help with …
Public restrooms
Toilet seat covers
Band-aids
Contact Solution Bottles
These are four things where actual, organic human intelligence has clearly failed us. Let’s begin with public restrooms, I have yet to happen upon one that even approximates civility. When I feel the need to ‘download some obsolete files’ the last experience I want to have is the one most likely to occur. Walk into a restroom where the seating is ensconced in beige metal half-wall stalls, the bottom 18 inches is a pass-through space as is the space above the six-foot mark. Why? I have been told the standard setup is to facilitate cleaning and drainage should the unsavory overflow event occur. It is highly likely that this floating partition contraption has encountered some unsatisfied customers during its lifespan; therefore, the stall door latches are a hit-or-miss proposition at best.
When your primary tasks are complete, you will likely encounter a dizzying array of unnecessary high-tech contraptions that used to be simple plumbing devices. The motion detection soap and water dispensers are only slightly less frustrating than the motion detecting paper towel dispenser. Unless, I am a ghost and haven’t become aware of my ceaseless walks among the living, then these motion detectors are a great example of failed technology. Isn’t the goal of technology to produce a more consistent experience? How is it then, that these devices are a 50/50 proposition at best. The soap works at this sink, but the water doesn’t. Once you have managed to find the right combination of soap and faucet, you are left to find a working towel dispenser while your hands drip water all over the counter and your clothes.
Maybe AI can figure out how the Europeans have managed to figure out full-wall, full-door stalls for their restrooms and faucets that work. Our Euro-friends still manage to maintain proper air circulation and tidy floors despite the lack of lower and upper level pass-through space.
Second on my list is toilet seat covers. I’ll admit, I am a bit of a germ-a-phobe. Intellectually, I realize that the possibility of me succumbing to a germ or virus that might be eking out an incredibly short lifespan on a horse-shoe piece of plastic is phenomenally small. Yet, I prefer my toilet seat covers to share one characteristic with my auto insurance … full coverage! I haven’t a clue what engineer rendered the die to stamp out toilet seat covers, but clearly they missed the specification. If your trailing edge is covered, you can rest assured your leading edge is exposed and vice versa.
Maybe AI can leverage some big data and advanced analytics to conclude that two additional inches of the thinnest paper on God’s green earth would fix the problem. Lord knows our best and brightest have failed in this regard.
On to Band-aids. When I have a choice, I go with the name brand product, which might be a mistake. I am certain the blue-chip company responsible for these individually packaged pieces of adhesive gauze has a research and development department, but from what I can see they have been asleep at the switch for decades. Anyone who has managed to create a void in their dermis, knows that the last thing you want to contend with when you are leaking red stuff is a paper wrapped Band-aid with a peel-off backing that is nearly impossible to properly remove by yourself. Perhaps, the assumption is that someone else will apply the Band-aid for you, but us lone-wolfs need something much better.
Perhaps AI can crawl the global patent database and find a means of stopping leaks that doesn’t require tearing and peeling. Seriously, we are on the verge of having autonomous vehicle shuttle our flabby bodies from place to place, yet we haven’t improved the packaging of bandages in over 40 years. Really? AI you must make this your first-priority. No wonder most handy-persons simply opt for a piece of paper towel and duct tape. By the time you’ve figure out the engineered product, you will have bled-out or already clotted.
Once AI has finished ensuring that we can properly manage our critical bodily fluids, maybe it can spend a few Nano-seconds engineering a better contact solution bottle. Recently, I have noticed some alternatives on the market, but for the longest time, the white plastic bottle with the flip-lid was the best available conveyance for this vital, sterile solution. The flip-lid is the problem. It doesn’t work. Oh it closes well enough, but that little gem of white plastic never fully opens. Now, the engineers must have realized that the operator of their fine design would in fact be mostly blind when attempting to operate it. How many millions of optically challenge citizens have stood in their underwear in front of a bathroom mirror with a contact lens resting on one of their digits, whilst their other hand desperately squeezes a stream of saline-based fluid into the half-opened lid of their bottle of contact solution?
Maybe artificial intelligence can save the day where clearly organic intelligence has left us wanting. Could AI deliver us a container for contact solution with a lid that fully opens? Could AI save us from spraying contact solution all over our bathroom counters? Could AI engineer a lid that fully opens, so we don’t emerge from the restroom each morning with wet spots on our clothing courtesy of an errant fountain of solution that has found footing after ricocheting off a half open lid?
Clearly our best and brightest have failed us and so we are left asking ... can artificial intelligence help us?