For the Sake of Clarity

          The novel I’m currently reading* is about the compilation of an English dictionary first published in 1930.There is a team of lexicographers beavering away to catalogue definitions but one of them has developed the playful obsession of inventing words and smuggling them through to the next edition. The editor-in-chief remains unaware, though, had he found out, he may have taken the benign view that there is no harm done: the English language welcomes (useful) newcomers.

          Obsession manifests itself in various ways: in my case it may be observed in a need for tidiness. A neat, clean environment helps me maintain a degree of mental clarity with which to negotiate life’s jumbled administrative complexities. Window-cleaning is an example.

          One day last week, I spent an inordinate amount of time and energy wiping down windows. In the morning, I tackled the seven-metre-run of terrace glazing at home and, in the afternoon, the shop-front windows of the premises that house the charitable organisation, Nudge, where I do some voluntary work. That’s a lot of glass – especially when every square centimetre of it must be absolutely streak-free – and the energy expended was taxing for someone in late, advanced middle-age. At the end of that day, it was all I could do to flop from sofa to bed via a brief stop at the dining table for supper.

          Still, having done the windows, I saw the way clear for the more cerebral project of transferring the contents of my notebooks. Some years ago, I abandoned actual notebooks in favour of an online organising app – as was consistent with the domestic downsizing we had undertaken. But the app I adopted is focussed on the needs of corporate employees and the subscription has become expensive, so I found another that does the job for free.

          Technophobes will probably shudder at the thought and imagine the dire consequences of trusting their stuff to distant servers, never mind shifting it between imaginary clouds and losing it all in the process. Me too – to some extent – which is why I asked AI to guide me through the process. It went without a hitch, which is amazing unless you are already familiar with the competencies of AI.

          Despite all these activities, there was time during the week for leisure. I had a grand day out with a couple of old pals, contemporaries with significant shared experiences.  During our conversations, I asked whether either of them used AI. They both said no – not intentionally or knowingly, at least.  I guess there’s no surprise there, as we boomers tend to be behind the curve of tech adoption. Perhaps our lack of enthusiasm for new methods can be explained by dearth of ambition brought on by a deal of laurel-resting. Who knows? Anyway, I went on to relate one or two of my successful encounters with the beast but didn’t press the point, as there seemed to be no prospect of their adopting it – late or otherwise.

          Some days later I was at a party held to celebrate the opening of one of Nudge’s projects. It was a ‘good do’ in the traditional sense – there was food, music, booze and dancing – but it had a contemporary component that took me by surprise. As the dancers boogied to a 70s style disco tune, I noted that the lyrics specifically named and celebrated all those who had contributed to the success of the project. When I asked who should be credited with the writing and performing, the answer was delivered with an upward eyeroll: it was entirely AI generated.

          In an attempt to keep up, I have ventured to ask AI for a word to describe someone who cleans windows obsessively. It delivered the following dictionary entry:  paneiac (n) A habitual over-cleaner of windows, often claiming “they are still a bit streaky”. Could I have put it better myself?

*Eley Williams, A Liar’s Dictionary.