One time when I was a kid, I was invited to play and have dinner at a friend’s house from church. She was the preacher’s daughter, so I knew the whole family. I’d already said an enthusiastic yes to the invitation before my friend mentioned that her mother was making tuna casserole for dinner. My stomach flopped over like a dead, smelly fish.
I eat a lot of different things, but fish is not one of them. Never has been. The smell makes me nauseous. I asked my mom what I should do, and she said I should go, have fun, and when it was time to eat, “make the best of it.” I interpreted that to mean eat the noodles, leave the fish.
As our society continues to be served up a steaming plate of artificial intelligence “advancements,” I keep thinking about that tuna casserole I’d dreaded as a kid. If AI is here, whether we want it or not, is there a way to eat the noodles and skip the parts that stink? These past few weeks, I’ve been trying to do just that.
My three kids, who are now young adults, think my experiment is akin to cozying up to the enemy. Surprisingly, plenty of Gen Z members refer to anything infused with artificial intelligence as a “clanker” (which is the opposite of a compliment). But I think it’s worthwhile to find out if these clankers can also be good-faith collaborators.
AI as a comparison tool: Our oldest son was in a minor car accident about a month ago, which happened just days after he’d moved to northern Alabama to begin a new job. Thankfully, he wasn’t injured, and neither was the guy in the other car. But because our son’s car was nearly eight years old, the insurance company totaled it. He needed a new car in a hurry.
Tom treats car shopping like his favorite Olympic sport, so we planned a weekend trip to Alabama to help our son navigate his first major purchase as an adult. We asked ChatGPT to help narrow our search by listing the top-ranked small cars within his budget. Then we refined the results by having it evaluate those cars based on safety standards, driving responsiveness, and overall value.
Once we had that list, we asked it to find exactly which dealerships had those cars — in the colors he preferred — within 60 miles of his city. With only two days to shop, the detailed comparisons compiled by AI helped us find what he wanted, test-drive them all, and negotiate a good deal on it. Mission accomplished.
AI for visual aids and shopping: Once we’d conquered the new car purchase, I used the last day of our visit to help our son make his new place look like a home instead of a sad convention for moving boxes. He needed an area rug in the bedroom, but I wasn’t sure what color it should be. Since AI had already helped us find the right car, I wondered if it could point me to the right rug, too.
I took three photos of the room, uploaded them to ChatGPT, and asked it to suggest the top three area rug colors that would look best. Its top recommendation surprised me so much that I told it to prove it to me by finding a picture of an area rug in that color — that was available for purchase in his town — and then show me what it would look like by putting it into the bedroom photo I’d already uploaded.
It took roughly 10 seconds of AI “thinking” before the altered photo appeared on my phone screen, complete with the area rug. As much as I hate to admit it, the suggestion looked great. If I’d gone with my first instinct, I would’ve had to return a big blue rug and try again.
I still have huge concerns about the impacts that unregulated artificial intelligence could have on the world. It has the capacity to do serious harm, yet it can also help humans make life-saving breakthroughs in science, medicine, and more.
Figuring out how to make the best of it while limiting the risks will be the work of this generation and all the ones that come after.
Gwen Rockwood is a syndicated freelance columnist. Email her at gwenrockwood5@gmail.com. Her books are available on Amazon.