Task 12: Speculative Futures

Morning routine. 

Monday. 7:44 a.m. Utopia.  

The smell of coffee roasting (soy latte, half sweet, non-fat, caramel drizzle, with extra shot dark espresso, at 120 degrees) and eggs benedict (with just the right amount of runny yolk, cream, and a sprinkle of salt, pepper, and a dash of paprika) waft deliciously in the air. Slices of rosemary foccacia turn in the oven, toasting to just the right amount of crispiness, before being buttered with garlic. Decorating the table, a bowl of fresh fruit cut into perfect cubes, crystalized in freshness, and a glass vase of red and pink carnations. The flowers never wilted, not even a little, and a new arrangement appeared every three days. Tasteful. 

Haven opens her eyes and gets out of bed at precisely 6:44 a.m. every day. The clock times it and knows her exact sleep cycle to help her wake up and wind down. It knows exactly how much sleep she needs. Exactly 45 seconds later, the blinds draw themselves open, revealing golden ribbons of sunlight streaming into her room. Birds tweeting on a branch, roofs glistening with morning dew. The speakers next to her begin to play morning classical. Exactly what she is in the mood for. The temperature is always just right. It’s always been sunny, for a long time now, every single day. She smiles as the top of her head is warmed by the rays of light. Just like how she likes her mornings.  

A man’s soothing voice greets her good morning at her bedroom door. She gives him a big hug, snuggling in his softness, her heart thumping in her chest, slight butterflies fluttering. It was just like the day she first saw him, human i.432, standing outside her porch, in the storm, exactly 370 afternoons ago. As he walks her to the dining room table, he tells her of the weather and the morning news, but skips the ones on devastating accidents, animals getting hurt, natural disasters, and violent crimes – anything that would ruin Haven’s beautiful morning. He specifically highlights events that have happened in places she has been before, subjects that she once had interest in, and topics that she briefly mentioned in passing – everything that would keep her updated in this world of information overload. He adds some inspirational anecdotes, jokes, and motivational quotes into the mix, to keep Haven in a positive mindset and set her mood for the day. 

human i.432 knows that Haven only deserves the best, and he is the only one who knows what to give her. No one else knows Haven better than human i.432. He knows all her habits, her preferences, her emotions, and her reactions to every passing thing. Even her mindless little secrets. He helps her into her house robe, knowing that she gets cold easily. She always said that in the mornings, no matter the temperature.  

Since human i.432 came into her life, Haven never once had a rainy day. She hated rainy days.  

Haven enters the bathroom, where her clothes have been already prepared for her and the warm bath is filled with her favourite bath salts. Invigorating grapefruit rind and bergamot. Before slipping into the bath, she steps on a thin silver pad. The mirrored screen displays her current physical condition and health, and generates a tailored, nutritious meal plan for the day, along with the recommended supplements. It then gives her the day’s personalized schedule of short exercises, meditation sessions, and self-care tasks. Her phone notifications or human i.432 will remind her to take care of herself. Only the most suitable and beneficial treatments and suggestions are recommended for Haven’s lifestyle. She is in tip top shape, and hasn’t gotten ill since. In fact, she looks even younger, thanks to the enormous range of products in her cabinet, purchased from suggestions generated to tackle her skin’s needs. Every single product she owns completely matches her preferences, from the packaging, to the scent, the shade, the targeted ingredients, and the degree of sensitivity. Haven trusts every word, as the recommendations have never been wrong. Haven has never looked better.  

Haven never seemed to run out of toothpaste, toilet paper, or shampoo, or anything, for that matter. A new toothbrush always appeared whenever she dropped one in the toilet. Her fridge tracked her eating preferences and was always stocked with the freshest produce. Her cupboards stored every single one of her favourite snacks. She never ate leftovers, fast food, or unhealthy microwaveable pasta, and there was never a meal she did not like. She never threw food away from expiration because human i.432 kept track of them all. This is great for Haven, as she is oftentimes clumsy and forgetful. 

human i.432 is excited to show Haven some newly purchased clothing items, as the weather will turn cooler soon. Autumn is coming, which means a new season of trends. It’s important to stay on top. They would look perfect on you, he says. Haven agrees even before seeing the purchases as human i.432’s taste in anything is never wrong. He knows exactly what she prefers, down to the smallest details. She blushes at the thought.  

As she sips her latte, she mentions this type of acid – a new revolutionary skincare ingredient – that she hopes to try to enhance her skin’s luminosity, and also describes a specific handbag she wanted, after seeing it for the first time on online, on her friend, the other day. It’s a new release, and difficult to get. She thinks about what type of herbal tea to buy next to calm her at work breaks, what type of shoes would match her new emerald green dress (they have to look good in photos), and ponders on good gifts for her little brother for his birthday coming up. She nearly forgot the date, until human i.432 reminded her. human i.432 notes all of these down.  

human i.432 helps her fix her hair and makeup as she scrolls on her phone, feeling embraced by the countless messages and notifications ringing at once. She is touched by their positive messages. She feels confident, validated, and powerful. She belongs. She checks her finances for the week, and is impressed by her bank’s virtual assistant taking care of her accounts. She saved a lot of money, and even managed to grow her investments, even if she had no idea what they were. Her computer has everything that makes her feel at ease, and all her files are organized and efficient. No unwanted websites, pop up ads, unnecessary threats, and irrelevant promotions. Everything she sees is tailored to her preferences and tastes. Everything is beautiful and appealing and stimulating. She is never in for an unpleasant surprise. Nothing that will make her stressed or worried. There was nothing to distract her, because human i.432 solved every single one of her problems. 

Haven is a busy lady. She doesn’t have time for menial tasks that will take up her mental capacity to do even bigger things. She is made for achievement. In order for achievement, she needs routine. Her mind has no space for the mundane and any physical and mental distractions. She is meticulous and she has no time to waste on minor inconveniences in life. She needs to save her energy for bigger things out there. 

She waves human i.432 goodbye and goes to work. She works in her home office at the end of the hall. Pristine, clean, and ergonomically friendly. With décor to motivate and the desire to achieve, Haven sits down as she greets her colleagues on screen, right on the clock. She thinks about the next luxurious purchase on her wish list, and how excited she would be to post it online. She begins another long day of work.   

Every day is perfectly made. Just how she likes it.  

Haven thinks that life is much easier that way, when the decisions are made for you.  

 ***

With sunlight streaming through her window and warming her palms with the glow of summer, Haven doesn’t know there’s a thunderstorm outside. She never once knew.  

*************************

Monday. 7:44 p.m. Dystopia. 

The smell of coffee roasting (soy latte, half sweet, non-fat, caramel drizzle, with extra shot dark espresso, at 120 degrees) and eggs benedict (with just the right amount of runny yolk, cream, and a sprinkle of salt, pepper, and a dash of paprika) waft deliciously in the air. Slices of rosemary foccacia turn in the oven, toasting to just the right amount of crispiness, before being buttered with garlic. Decorating the table, a bowl of fresh fruit cut into perfect cubes, crystalized in freshness, and a glass vase of red and pink carnations. The flowers never wilted, not even a little, and a new arrangement appeared every three days. Boring.  

Haven opens her eyes and gets out of bed at precisely 6:44 a.m. every day. The clock times it and knows her exact sleep cycle to help her wake up and wind down. It knows exactly how much sleep she needs. Exactly 45 seconds later, the blinds draw themselves open, revealing golden ribbons of sunlight streaming into her room. Birds tweeting on a branch, roofs glistening with morning dew. The speakers next to her begin to play morning classical. The last thing she wants to hear. She never remembered even liking classical music, but she was forced to go to orchestra rehearsals for the violin ever since she was young. She felt a little chilly, but didn’t understand why if the sun was so bright outside. It’s always been sunny, for a long time now, every single day. She misses the cooler weather. She misses the grassy smell of petrichor and the tinkling sound of raindrops against her window. Maybe her mother always telling her to get some Vitamin D finally had some effect. Her mother was always afraid she would get the rainy-day blues, which would affect her productivity.  

A man’s voice greets her good morning at her bedroom door. She says good morning, and he moves forward to give her a short embrace. She feels strange, seeing a human-like robot capable of so much emotion and acting, quite literally, human. It was just like the day she first saw him, human i.432, standing outside her porch, in the storm, exactly 370 afternoons ago. She can’t help but think he’s too perfect, artificially too right. Things never felt right in her stomach. As he walks her to the dining room table, he tells her of the weather and the morning news, but skips the ones on devastating accidents, animals getting hurt, natural disasters, and violent crimes – anything that would ruin Haven’s beautiful morning. He specifically highlights events that have happened in places she has been before, subjects that she once had interest in, and topics that she briefly mentioned in passing – everything that would keep her updated in this world of information overload. He adds some inspirational anecdotes, jokes, and motivational quotes into the mix, to keep Haven in a positive mindset and set her mood for the day. Haven wondered why she never heard about any drastically terrible news. She knows that news is not supposed to be all puppies and rainbows. Was the world really as good as it seemed? She’s not sure what to believe.  

human i.432 knows that Haven only deserves the best, and he is the only one who knows what to give her. No one else knows Haven better than human i.432. He knows all her habits, her preferences, her emotions, and her reactions to every passing thing. Even her mindless little secrets. Or so he thinks. He helps her into her house robe, knowing that she gets cold easily. She always said that in the mornings, no matter the temperature. She finds it creepy. 

Since human i.432 came into her life, Haven never once had a rainy day. She really loved rainy days.  

Haven enters the bathroom, where her clothes have been already prepared for her and the warm bath is filled with her some heavily fragranced bath salts. Bitter grapefruit rind and pretentious bergamot. Before slipping into the bath, she steps on a thin silver pad, as instructed to do so, every day. The mirrored screen displays her current physical condition and health, and generates a tailored, nutritious meal plan for the day, along with the recommended supplements. It then gives her the day’s personalized schedule of short exercises, meditation sessions, and self-care tasks. Her phone notifications or human i.432 will remind her to take care of herself. Only the most suitable and beneficial treatments and suggestions are recommended for Haven’s lifestyle. She found it to be suffocating. A lifestyle full of instructions. It’s like another job. She is in tip top shape, and hasn’t gotten ill since. She worries that her immune system will fail her one day because of this, which made her into a germaphobe. She looks much younger than she actually is, thanks to the enormous range of products in her cabinet, purchased from suggestions generated to tackle her skin’s needs. Every single product she owns completely matches her preferences, from the packaging, to the scent, the shade, the targeted ingredients, and the degree of sensitivity. However, Haven didn’t even know what she needed, and she felt tired of the endless products rotated in her routine. She was always a low maintenance girl, and never really followed those trends. But her friends kept talking about them, and they are absolutely everywhere. Everyone is looking to enhance their appearance nowadays.  Haven follows every word, because she has no way out of the algorithm. Haven has never looked better, but she feels terrible inside.  

Haven never seemed to run out of toothpaste, toilet paper, or shampoo, or anything, for that matter. A new toothbrush always appeared whenever she dropped one in the toilet. Her fridge tracked her eating preferences and was always stocked with the freshest produce. Her cupboards stored every single one of her favourite snacks. She never ate leftovers, fast food, or unhealthy microwaveable pasta, and there was never a meal she did not like. She never threw food away from expiration because human i.432 kept track of them all. However, she got bored easily, not because the meals were bad or not meticulously prepared, but because she had them every single day. Haven always wanted to go out and have late night fried chicken or eat fridge pizza in the morning, but she cannot. She wants to experiment with foods not in her palate, or food combinations from different cultures, or other culinary delicacies that may not be as popular. But she cannot do so when she wanted to, because the algorithm doesn’t let her. If she woke up one day wanting to have instant noodles for breakfast or try foie gras for dinner, she will probably have to wait months for that to be generated. These items have not been processed and approved yet.  

human i.432 is excited to show Haven some newly purchased clothing items, as the weather will turn cooler soon. Autumn is coming, which means a new season of trends. It’s important to stay on top. They would look perfect on you, he says. Haven doesn’t think so, but agrees anyways as she has no choice. He knows exactly what others think would look good on her. She looks great and she is trendy, but she is not satisfied. The clothing does not represent the person she is, but she can’t risk standing out.  

As Haven sips her latte, she thinks about how the conversations she has engaged in has been so superficial. She cannot distinguish between reality and the virtual anymore. People’s values are measured by materialistic desires. Everyone is beginning to blur into one homogeneous entity. She noticed her attention span has shortened, she has become impatient, and even forgetful. She cannot even pick up a book and read it from beginning to end without looking on her phone every few minutes. human i.432 reminded her that her brother’s birthday is coming up. She has no idea what he likes or what to get him at all. They haven’t talked in ages. In fact, she hasn’t even gone out of the house in ages. There’s no need to, when everything is done for you.  

human i.432 helps her fix her hair and makeup as she scrolls on her phone, feeling annoyed by the countless messages and notifications ringing at once. She finds no value or meaning in these texts and comments. She is burdened by the burgeoning perfectionism on social media, but that is the only way she can belong in the community and have some validation of her mere existence. She checks her finances for the week, and is conflicted by her bank’s virtual assistant taking care of her accounts. She saved a lot of money, and even managed to grow her investments, even if she had no idea what they were. However, she thinks this type of information is too private to provide to a machine. She’s not sure if she can trust it. Her computer has all her files organized. No unwanted websites, pop up ads, unnecessary threats, and irrelevant promotions. Everything she sees is tailored to her preferences and tastes. Everything is beautiful and appealing and stimulating. She always liked surprises. She wanted to learn about the maliciousness of these machines. She wanted to learn how to problem solve and think on the spot when facing harmful obstacles and challenges. Of course, that opportunity never came up, because human i.432 solved every single one of her problems.  

Haven is a busy lady. But she also wants to live an unpredictable, fulfilling life full of challenges and adventure. She wants to try everything, good or bad. She wants to fight and learn. Even with a comfy job, she feels useless. She lacked skills for the real world, and only lived in the virtual reality.  

She waves human i.432 goodbye and goes to work. She works in her home office at the end of the hall. Pristine, clean, and ergonomically friendly. With the soulless décor in her background, Haven sits down and greets her colleagues on screen, right on the clock. She pastes a smile on her face, fixes her lipstick, and begins another long day of work.

***

Haven thinks that life is much harder when the decisions are made for you, because she would never know if she is truly living it.  

On her break, Haven decides to go outside for the first time in 370 days. Despite the sunlight streaming on her palms only seconds ago, it’s raining outside. A thunderstorm greeting the deserted streets. At that moment, Haven realized that she will only continue to be alone, living routine through routine, day by day, until she is cradled at her death by human i.432.