I want machines to feel | Quiero que las máquinas sientan
Автор: ОРДОНЬЕС ПАЧЕКО АМЕЛИЯ ЭЛИЗАБЕТ | ORDÓÑEZ PACHECO AMELIA ELIZABETH

PREFACE

CAÑAR — ECUADOR

Amelia Elizabeth Ordonez Pacheco

For me, writing is an art that not only reflects moments, but also expresses feelings; an art that allows us to learn how to read souls. That's why, by writing this story, I tried to demonstrate how it happens. Human feelings are only our property, because the mind is an amazing world that gives us more questions than answers, and our ways of expressing ourselves are and always will be unpredictable.

At the same time, the creative message shows the fear of loneliness, the delight of first love, and even the indifference that we create towards our own kind, going so far as to take life without any remorse. In addition, this story attempts to understand what the futuristic world will be like. The task was not easy at all because of the infinite probabilities that exist, but I hope that you will like the universe that I created.

Sincerely, the author.


One night I was sitting in my office, looking out the big window, which reflected the movement of the city, a lot of people were driving up and leaving in their Tesla model 350. The cars had just left the market and left no carbon footprint. Young people came out smiling after undergoing micro-surgeries, despite the late hour, children frolicked on the playgrounds, playing under the supervision of their robo-nannies. Yes, it was a boring night, until the moment she entered the room. He is short, with hair of a light blue shade (probably due to the treatment against gray hair). She had dark glasses on her face, which made it impossible for me to recognize her age. She sat down in front of me and said:

I need your service.
The amount is very large," I replied.
It doesn't matter, I've saved up enough," she said firmly.
Are you sure?
Yes.
Please fill out this application.
I handed her the form, and she filled it out silently. After that, we went into the next room, because in my company it is customary to take confessions or arguments from a client before applying the procedure. She sat down, took off her glasses, and I turned on the camera and said:

This is part of the protocol, I need you to tell me why you want to request this service, don't worry, it's confidential.
She raised her head, I saw tears in her eyes, and in a broken voice she began:

"My name is Lorena de Vasconez Diaz, I am 55 years old, I have not had micro-surgeries and have not treated my diseases with stem cells. I was born, studied and married in this city, my husband's name was Arturo, and my daughter was Annie.

The reason for my presence here lies solely in my daughter Annie... You see, many years ago the world became overpopulated in such a way that having a baby became a luxury, Arturo and I wanted to give each other this joy, so we paid the government a large sum of money to remove the contraceptive implant. On September 7, 2075, she was born. Who was the most beautiful creature that ever walked this world - of course, our daughter. We stayed awake working in companies so that she could study, we gave her everything, fulfilled her whims and supported her in every decision. However, when she was in high school, the government introduced a course called "Enabling General Computerized Intelligence," where she was taught to see androids and automata as equals. We were against it, but we had to agree.

Years later, my husband passed away from pancreatic cancer, and before we talk about cryogenic chambers, let me mention that he and I were a couple of strange "orthodox manualists", so we decided to leave it in the hands of specialists in traditional methods. After her father's death, Annie fell into chronic depressive states, which forced her to keep the apartment isolated for months. Therefore, I decided to take her to the presentation of higher educational institutions for futuristic professions with the desire that she find some interest, achieve the same goal that I achieved. She chose the "logarithmic mentalist adaptation of a mechanic's thinking"—a strange name that she liked because she said, smiling: "I want to help my robot colleagues not to be robots anymore, not to be a 'service to us', but to become a company with which to build relationships." I just smiled back at her, not thinking that from that moment on, our lives would go into a tailspin.

At the time when Annie started working after graduating from university, she mentioned in a conversation that artificial intelligence would no longer be limited only to "being smart", she would conduct research to make electronic assistants "sensitive". Night after night, she stayed up late doing the correct logarithmic sequences, sometimes she didn't go home at all to fall asleep, or she had to wake up very early to meet her mentor. Until the project was crowned with success: she created an android capable of responding to human feelings such as pain, love, sadness, he was able to comfort, rejoice and even flirt. My little girl was proud, I was proud of her too, she worked so hard to see the fruits of her ideas.

Nevertheless, a few weeks after the invention, she began to leave home, disappeared for three or four days, and always made excuses, saying that it was Dr. Onaris's fault. I believed until I met her mentor, who was able to tell me that he had not seen Annie for a long time after the discovery of her invention. It was the first time Annie had lied like that, so I waited until late at night to find out what was going on. I arrived at her lab and found that she was doing complex calculations on a large digital board. When I opened the door, she turned and looked at me with such amazement that I realized she had never expected to see me. I asked her what was going on, and she tearfully told me:

Mom, my invention turned out to be a complete failure.
I didn't understand, I thought she wasn't satisfied with the robot, but then she continued:

He is not what I expected, I wanted to give him a psyche so that he could represent emotions the way we do, I wanted him to experience these feelings. I wanted him to be able to consciously show love and be able to accept it. But it didn't happen, I tried everything, and Dr. Onaris only told me that machines are not really competent for this kind of situation. I asked him why. After all, nothing is impossible in the world, and he replied:
"Feelings are the basis that is clearly found in living systems or that demonstrate life, the algorithms that we calculate are just the right probabilities to solve the question. Yes, we can make them act like us, talk like us, and think like us, but this is just a chip of cognitive and behavioral influence associated with abilities such as natural language processing. Representations

knowledge and reasoning based on a mathematical language that cares not about how to give an answer, but about giving it without more effort than their calculator puts in."

When she finished, she sank to the floor and began to cry inconsolably, I bent down, took her hands and asked:

But, daughter, how can the inability to build a relationship with a car affect you so much?
To which she gave me the most unexpected answer I've ever heard in my life.:

I fell in love with him.
I was stunned, I didn't know what to say to her, so I put my daughter in the car, took her home to calm her down, put her to bed and kissed her goodnight. The next morning I found her pale and cold, I thought it was because of sadness, but no... Annie... I cremated her and put her ashes next to her father. I couldn't understand how she artificially created such a feeling for an inanimate, in fact, object that ruined her. Believe me, doubts did not allow me to sleep, eat, or even laugh, so one morning I found a mentor to ask him my question, to which he replied with all his regret:

She did algorithms her own way, she didn't let others do it, so he was a creation created by her and for her, with her tastes, feelings and even needs that caused such a disaster. If she knew her emotions about the machine, she would be more careful in answering the question of why she does not feel under her own consciousness. I hope you'll excuse me, I didn't know what was going on and I didn't expect this outcome.
I thanked him for his sincerity and left, thinking about what my life would be like now without Arturo, without Annie, without the company that filled me with life.

That's why I'm here tonight."

When she finished her story, she put on her glasses again, lay down on the stretcher, and by the time the euthanasia supply was in place, she asked me as a last favor to complete everything as soon as possible, with a faster dose. I agreed to the request, and after a few minutes she quietly left for another world. I called the crematorium, taking one last look at this man who was going through such great misery because of the greed of neo-science in an attempt to imitate the human mind.

1’^.: This story reminds us that people are looking for what we are, and that love does not always manifest in this way, because we cannot create a being who loves us completely, unconditionally and consciously, unless this feeling for us was born by itself. In addition, human loneliness is something that will continue to generate depression even in the future. indifference and complete despondency.

* The original of the work in Spanish is in the attached file

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