Once upon a time, a long time ago, we feared that computers would take over. We’d been conditioned, you see, by everything from the slightly obscure, like Colossus: The Forbin Project, to blockbusters like The Terminator. With the clarity of hindsight in 2016, considering where humans are leading the world and that we still don’t have flying cars, Colossus doesn’t look like such a bad fate anymore. Computers and their ill-begotten networks have done wonderful things. As a kid I had a World Book Encyclopedia, which was like a primitive Internet small enough to fit on a bookshelf. Today we have the real McCoy—more facts and stories and funny videos than you can possibly see in a lifetime, all at our fingertips.
But our technology has its limits: We sure don’t have to worry about computers taking over the world, not overtly anyway, and not for a long time. My PCs are hopelessly confused trying to search or proofread anything with a hyphen or an apostrophe in it, so world domination is probably a ways off. I don’t fear computers, but I’m starting to hate them, and if you sometimes feel the same way then join me below for a nice winter rant, and let me count some of the ways they deserve to be hated …
I hate that my 86-year-old retired engineer father spends hours every day utterly baffled, trying to figure out applications. He's the unpaid volunteer treasurer of his homeowner association and he hits a brick wall, every single day, because something at his insurance company or contractor or bank's website stops working or is so poorly designed that he gets confused and frustrated. I hate that there's usually no one he can call for help, outside of a third-party customer service line manned by overworked kids paid barely above minimum wage pretending to be insurance or bank employees when they answer the phone.
I hate that whoever designed those applications apparently just didn't give a shit if it made sense to the average Joe or had been thoroughly tested and debugged, that whoever wrote up the directions on how that widget works can't write above the eighth-grade level and was probably so swamped with work it wouldn't matter if they were Mark Twain. And I really hate that whoever managed the resource base that might help him find an answer on his own didn't bother to use a working search engine that actually finds material which might help him in the morass of text using common-sense keywords, and yet Google and other engines exist that can search the entire Internet using obscure slang terms and return 50 useful results in a few milliseconds.
I hate that we are one and all completely dependent on email for every facet of our lives, because from time to time email breaks, and no one seems to know why or how to fix it. When Yahoo or Google or Hotmail or Outlook etc., suddenly and mysteriously won't deliver a critical email no matter how many times it is sent or how badly it needs to arrive, there's often no one at those companies we can call to get it fixed. Indeed, just finding out why it won't work in the broadest sense, let alone fixing it, might require a team of experienced IT techs tediously slogging through thousands of lines of encoded text in logs populated with complete gibberish for hours on end. After years in IT I can tell you the No. 1 way that kind of issue is resolved is when it suddenly and mysteriously starts working again, even though no one admits to doing anything. And you spend the interim sitting there fuming, completely helpless and hoping that time comes. Because thanks to it not working, you've just been put in the position of being 100 percent responsible for something you have zero control over, and it's not just email, it's everything computer networks touch. The same thing happens every day, every fucking day, with every other aspect of computers and the Internet and networks.
I hate that when things get put on a computer or online, what it really means is something that used to be done competently on your behalf by professionals is now a "do it yourself" proposition. Your insurance agent or HR contact used to give you a form and help you fill it out to pick medical insurance: Now, you get a website link in a brisk email and have to do it all yourself. And I hate that, because when something doesn't work, when the temporary password you were given doesn't work and the password reset won't arrive or can't be found, or the site locks up your PC and you keep having to turn it off and reboot, or the online form is confusing as hell and you have a question about what you should do—because picking the wrong option could screw you up for days, weeks, months, or even years into the future—a giant chicken-shit game of "not it!" ensues where every single person and entity you contact for help assures you, you'll have to contact someone else or some other company to get X fixed or question ABC answered, and no they don't know who that is, and no they don't have a phone number or an email address.
"We actually can't help with IT issues at this number ... we actually don't answer questions about why your listed orthopedic won’t accept you as a patient at this number ... we don't know what format your second cousin twice removed DoB should be in on that form on question 13 a slash 25:c or if the form is working properly right now at this number ... we actually use a third-party to do XYZ in your account so you'll have to ask them about that, I believe they're listed on the Internet if you need the phone number ... Good luck though!"
I really hate—in fact, despise—that software companies come out with new versions of software that didn't need to be replaced yet, merely because they want to create a new product cycle where they make additional money selling you the new one you now have to have, even though you didn't want it or need it. So much for the efficient market and free market magic hypotheses. I hate that as a result we all have to relearn how to do dozens of things we already knew how to do and are forced to be unpaid beta testers, stumbling into unresolved glitches and conflicts along the way, when the familiar, existing version of the same software had already been through all that and was finally tweaked, finally understood, and patched and working okay.
I hate that no matter what your job is now, almost all of us spend hours a day lurching from one confusing computer-related crisis to another, battling with borked websites and confusing applications and unreliable programs hung out on under-powered networks. I hate that an entire new class of obstacles between us and our work has now been created that we have to navigate with little or no guidance, and the sole benefit of those obstacles is they represent how corporate America has figured out they can shove more and more tasks on us, all so that Bill Lumberg's stock will go up one-quarter point.
Maybe most of all, I hate that if I stop keeping track of this crap for a second, I turn into a dinosaur, barely able to feed myself in this new world, where we feel more alone than ever despite having social media flashing in our faces and buzzing in our ears every time little Ronnie pees in the toilet like a big kid, or Uncle Schnapps and Aunt Grenadine make it another day without a drink. And if I don’t keep up, keep current, keep paranoid, and keep on truckin’, then I’ll turn into nothing more than a mark, easy prey, for some cyber-thieving asshole to clean me out of everything from in-game currency to my own precious, very real, hard-earned shekels. And I especially hate that after dealing with that bullshit all fucking day long, we then come home not to rest and relax but to continue our battle with our mentally deficient version of Skynet, thanks to the websites and networks and devices our personal lives now completely hinge on.