WHAT DRIVES CARSby Carl Frederick
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Peopleor thingsgood enough to do a good job are likely to have ideas of their own....
Paul Whitman stepped into his car and relaxed. Hed only had the vehicle, Victor-16, for a week but hed already become attached to iteven fond of it.
Shall I drive you to Central High School? said Victor.
Paul smiled. Victors voice, eager, youthful, enthusiastic, always reminded him of the kids at the school where he worked as a guidance counselor. Perhaps that alone explained why Paul felt a fondness for the vehicle.
The high school, yes, said Paul. But stop first at the CoffeeNuts drive-through.
Yes, sir. Victor rolled out into traffic. The family says theres congested traffic on Route 611. May I take an alternate route?
Yes. Thanks. Paul felt sheepish thanking a car, but it was hard not to think of Victor as a persona person with a family.
The Victor Class vehicles were a set of two hundred concept cars: voice recognition, artificial intelligence, and interconnectivity through the cell-phone network. They ran on ethanol and had very large fuel tanksnecessary, as there were only a few service stations with ethanol pumps in southeastern Pennsylvaniathe Victor Vehicle test region. Paul knew he was lucky getting one of them to test drivebut then again, having a brother who was the Head of Victor Programming certainly helped.
Paul, in the drivers seat, did nothing but watch as Victor negotiated through the traffic. His hands twitched involuntarily on the wheel; it was hard not being the driver. Ahead, he saw the CoffeeNuts and leaned with the motion as Victor swung into the drive-through lane. He pushed the control to lower the windowit was easier than asking Victor to do itand gave his order: a coffee and a cruller.
Wouldnt a banana be healthier? said Victor.
What? Paul glanced in surprise at the speaker grill. CoffeeNuts doesnt sell bananas.
Oh.
While Paul inhaled the aroma of fresh coffee intermingling with the smell of donuts and new car scent, Victor pulled back onto the road. Paul was sure the car maneuvered gently so he wouldnt spill his coffee. Paul shook his head in wonderment. Victor seemed not only intelligent; the car seemed considerateand actually sentient. Thats ridiculous! Its just software. He snapped on the radio to listen to the news over breakfast.
The hot news of the morning was from Harrisburg where, later that day, the State Legislature would vote on the ethanol proposal. If it passed, the ethanol plant in Ethantown would be tripled in size, making it the largest biofuel refinery in the nation. A heated floor debate had gone on for several days now, but Paul wasnt in the mood to listen to any more discordant sound bites. He rubbed his hands together to erase the thin pale patina of confectioners sugar, then flipped off the radio.
Do you think it will pass? came Victors voice.
What?
The ethanol bill, said Victor in an eager voice. Do you think theyll pass it?
Paul, again astonished at the mental capabilities of his car, was reminded of the kids he counseled; hed always strived to treat them as young adults and not children. Perhaps hed have to treat his car the same way. He gazed at the little Norwegian troll doll hed hung from the rear-view mirror to give a touch of individuality to his Victor.
Well, do you, sir?
The ethanol bill, said Paul. No. I dont think itll pass. It means the state borrowing a lot of money. And it would mostly benefit the Midwest corn producers. Their farm subsidies would go upalong with our taxes. So the bill isnt popular with a lot of Pennsylvania politicians.
But isnt it popular with people?
Paul chuckled. Im not sure it matters. Its the politicians who get to vote on it.
In Harrisburg?
Yes. Paul wrinkled his nose. Victor sounded very much like one of his high school kids: unfamiliar with the world, but alert and quick to learn.
After some silence, Victor said, Thats too bad. Wed really like it to pass.
We?
The family.
After a further few seconds of silence, Paul said, Victor. He spoke softly, trying to keep a troubled tone out of his voice. Phone my brother, please. You might try his home first.
Yes, sir. After a minute or so, Victor said, He isnt home. But his car, Victor-5, is in motion. Should I call him there?
Yes, please, andPaul glanced at the cabins front camera lensVideophone, if you would.
Dialing.
A video screen on the dashboard came to life, and showed the face of Pauls brother, Jonathan. After exchanging greetings and small talk, Paul broached his concernsbut with uneasiness as he knew Victor, the object of his concerns, could hear every word. You know, Jonathan, he said with forced lightness,
Victor here seems quite, um, intelligent.
What would you expect? said Jonathan with a laugh. My team does good work.
In fact, the car seems almost, well, self-aware.
It emulates self-awareness.
It emulates it very well, said Paul, feeling slightly less troubled now. In fact, I cant tell it from genuine sentience.
Im glad. But its only programming. Jonathan gave a snort of a laugh. John Searles Chinese Room idea argues that computation isnt even AI, much less sentience.
On the other hand, said Paul, Victor passes the Turing Testat least for me. Alan Turing might say the car is sentient. He chuckled. A Turing car, so to speak.
Jonathan smiled, but Paul could tell that something lay heavy on his mind. Come on, brother. Youre not telling me everything.
Well, said Jonathan. I have to admit the Victor cars are showing a lot more intelligence than I expecteda human intelligence.
How is that possible? Your team programmed them.
Jonathan nodded. Connectionism, maybe. We didnt take into account that the individual cars link together through the cell phone network. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and gazed at it. And these phones are little computers in their own rightnot to mention the network computer system that controls them.
Paul gazed over Victors artificial leather upholstery. Are you saying that the networked Victors and cell phones have created a true sentient creature?
True synthesized sentience, said Jonathan, in a voice lacking conviction.
Ive got to say Im a little uneasy, said Paul, about machines showing sentienceeven if only simulated.
Get used to it, said Jonathan with a smile that seemed forced. Its coming. His smile turned more genuine. I think you should become a guidance councilor to the Victor family. You know I could get you a job here. He nodded out the window as Victor-5 pulled into the company parking lot.
Yeah, yeah.
Why work with your surly teenagers when you could work instead with smart cars? Smart surly cars, if youd like. I could arrange it.
Thank you, Jonathan, said Paul with a sigh. Hed had this conversation with his brother many times.
Talk to you later. He ended the call.
Paul polished off his donut and washed it down with lukewarm coffee. Then, casually glancing out the window, he noticed that the landscape had grown noticeably less urban. I must say, Victor, that you seem to be taking a rather out of the way route to Central High School.
The car didnt respond.
Why dont you answer? said Paul.
There is nothing to answer. You made a statement. It wasnt a question.
Come on. You know what I meant. Paul watched as the car took the Route 1 exit to I-76.
Again, Victor didnt respond.
Victor!
Im sorry, said the car, but the family has decided we will all drive to Harrisburg in order to pressure the legislature to vote for the Ethanol Expansion Bill.
What?
I said, Im sorry, but the family has
I heard what you said. Paul struggled to keep his voice steady. Are you telling me youre not driving me to the high school?
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