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Digital Slob Curt Brandao |
Truth teller spells
doom for civil societyIn a recent, widely published report, British scientist Martin Rees estimates a 50 percent chance the end of the world is nigh, up from 20 percent 100 years ago. It's hard to guess which bodily orifice he pulled these numbers from, but since he's both a scientist and British, we can only accept his conjecture as meticulously primped and sanitized (post-wash-closet).
Thus many Respectable People have taken Rees' research to heart, using what time they have left to reflect, get their spiritual house in order and put enough cat food out for Fluffy to purr solo through the coming apocalypse.
Digital Slobs, however, are likely to soldier on, re-enlisting in fantasy football as if we're all going to live forever. True, a few lesser-evolved Slobs might use Rees' research to taunt their great-grandparents, who still whine about how tough things were in the good ol' days. "There was only a 20 percent chance of global doom in the early 1900s, Nana! That's nothin'," Slobs might scream during spiteful scenes at assisted-living facilities, as their Nanas sit too stunned to put any rock in their rocking chairs. "Sure, maybe you walked barefoot four miles to school every day, but the Ebola virus is going to melt me from the inside out! Who's got it tough, now, Nana!?"
Generational one-upmanship aside, Rees asserts even money on cataclysm by weighing the risks of natural disasters, bioterror and scientific missteps as we recklessly poke around the DNA double helix, risking a genetic avalanche. But if Rees knew what this Digital Slob knows, his calculations would tilt further toward doom.
I've come across a seemingly innocuous gadget that might, once perfected, unleash a force more poisonous than SARS, global warming and all the "American Idol Junior" contestants put together: The truth.
The Handy Truster (www.handytrusters.com) touts itself as the world's first portable lie detector, and is no doubt burning bridges as we speak. The Truster takes a few seconds to "baseline" someone's voice, then detects slight vocal-chord variations to uncover lies. It can even attach to cell phones, sizing up callers surreptitiously. If someone tells the truth, the LED display shows an apple; if they're lying, it shows a worm. And it sells for only $25.
Surely, the world cannot survive this.
Like moths to a flame, humans will always plunge head-first into the ugly truth's searing heat, even though we know we'll get vaporized. It's the same compulsion that made us open our SAT scores or watch the last two "Star Wars" movies -- we simply cannot be saved from ourselves.
Fortunately, for now, the Handy Truster doesn't work, at least not well enough to drive us insane. You can't test it with "planned lies," and poor input quality can taint results -- caveats any husband with strange lipstick on his collar will gladly cling to.
But like all doomsday devices, the Handy Truster will eventually perfect itself, and then turn on its masters. Left unchecked, it will destroy society, one relationship at a time, until we all end up alone, crouched in dark corners, tearfully pleading -- to ourselves and the device -- "I love myself! I love myself!" only to have the device coldly blink back, "worm! worm! worm!"
At that point, odds are we'll welcome an asteroid to put us out of our misery.
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Curt Brandao is the Star-Bulletin's
production editor. Reach him at
at: cbrandao@starbulletin.com