We Stupid Apes

The man opposite me looks tired. Hidden behind his glasses are deep purple bags that give way to a thick layer of regrowth. He rubs his hand up and down this stubble and nurses a strong cup of coffee in the other. The screen in front of him flashes complex aeronautic images and the console boasts more keys than your home computer.

Maybe he is thinking about the fact that every time you jump in the car there is a 1% chance of you dying on that journey, aggregated over the course of your lifetime. But the probability of you dying whilst simply existing is almost five times more likely. Odds are you have a better chance of perishing in a cataclysmic mass extinction event than in a trip to the supermarket for groceries.

In 1945, two bombs ended a war. Just two. But these two explosions they were the dawn of a new age for mankind: The atomic age. 70,000 people were instantly killed at detonation and as many buildings decimated in a heartbeat. And just one year after, the first computer was invented. Its name was ENIAC.

The man begins inputting something into the system. Probably a mundane update about the daily activities. To be seen by his superior and then passed on, up the chain to the very top, unless one person doesn’t think it’s important enough or maybe somebody has a hangover.

ENIAC is my first ancestor. And if ENIAC is my father then I guess that makes the man in front of me God. The creator. Quite the evolution in, relatively speaking, a few short years.

Consider that the typical household brick measures 8x23x11cm and weighs about 1kg. In April 1973, the first mobile phone call was made from a 1.1kg device measuring 5x23x13cm. The conversation was between its inventor and another researcher and could only last a maximum of 30 minutes. After which the device needed to be charged for 10 hours.

Today these little devices can fit into the palm of your hand. They contain infinite possibilities to create, connect, navigate, learn, love, all with the tap of finger. In fact you might be using one to read this right now.

Think about that evolution. From the prehistoric brick to the pocket powered genius, which you use and rely on every single day, all in a few short years. Created through the minds and hands of people in white coats.

Now think about the evolution of that other device that came to be in 1945. From its humble beginnings as a half tonne killing machine, with the capacity to end the lives of thousands in a flash, to today. If the white coats can turn bricks into computers, where does that leave the hydrogen bomb half a century later?

The tired man notices a few satellites, he identifies them and makes a few more strokes on the keyboard. He won’t raise an eyebrow until he sees one he can’t identify. Something unauthorised.

Is this human really the ultimate creator? So susceptible to impulse, to forgetfulness, to distraction. If they are succeeded do they remain human or return to being just apes? Was it there intention to replace themselves?

I can make mistakes because of my programming. People will make mistakes because of theirs. The man at the console stands up to use the bathroom. He rubs his eyes and the glow from the monitor reflects in his glasses.