Qualityland

MACHINES DON’T MAKE MISTAKES

Denise is watching her favorite series. It’s an old show about four women who live in a city called New York.

“Stop,” she says, and the picture freezes. “Carrie Bradshaw’s blouse.”

On the screen, the blouse the actress Sarah Jessica Parker is wearing is suddenly overlaid with information. Product name, brand, and current price at TheShop—“The world’s most popular online retailer”—are all displayed.

“Order it in my size.”

A friendly PLING sound confirms to Denise that the order has been successfully placed. Now, further product information is displayed for the other items which can be seen on the screen. Carrie Bradshaw’s skirt. Carrie Bradshaw’s shoes. The lamp, the table, the pizza, the soft drink, all of which have been very obviously in the foreground for several minutes now. Some of the things were added into the series retroactively, the new QualityPad lying on the table, for example. This is digital post-post-production-product-placement, also known as 5P. The latest craze in the advertising industry. But the other items being touted are of no interest to Denise. She already has most of them anyway.

“Continue,” she says. Denise loves this new feature. Previously it was only available with commercial shows like The Mattel Gang or The Benetton Girls, in other words, in advertising series with a dramatic component. The kind of trash the Useless lap up; people who get their televisions at a cheaper price for agreeing to watch at least four hours of advertising every day, during which their emotions are analyzed and sent as feedback to the agencies and companies. A sad life.

Last year, however, TheShop began to have orderable products indexed by an algorithm in old films and series. It’s incredible. Denise loves buying her way further and further into the world of Sex and the City.

Martyn stands in the doorway, watching her.

“Do you know how much money you spent on series shopping last month?” he asks.

“No,” says Denise. “Do you?”

“Yes! Too much.”

He sits down on the couch.

Denise knows how she can calm him down. She opens the zip of his trousers.

“Not in front of the television,” says Martyn, pushing her away.

“But you used to love it.”

“Remember last week,” says Martyn. “Do you really think that was a coincidence?”

Denise had been blowing him in front of the television. As she went to sit on him, his erection had deflated. Because of the baby bump. And then, at exactly that moment, the television had interrupted the program to show an advertisement for a new impotence treatment.

“Of course it was a coincidence…” says Denise. She reaches for his zip again, and this time Martyn lets her. In a way it was also kind of a turn-on, the feeling that someone was watching them. Just as he is starting to relax for the first time today, the electronic nanny comes in. Denise jumps up as if she’s just been caught by her mother.

“I have prepared today’s replay,” says Nana dryly. “But if you prefer I can come back after your necessary average of four minutes and thirty-two seconds.”

“No, no,” says Denise. “Put it on.”

“Wonderful,” says Martyn, trying to shove his erect penis back into his pants.

As Nana connects to the monitor, he is already closing his eyes.

He only wakes up once the replay is over and a question appears on the monitor with a PLING: “Would you like to take a few moments for a Progress Party campaign commercial?” Beneath the question there is only one button: OK. Martyn presses OK.

A businessman appears on the monitor.

“I’m not voting for John of Us in spite of the fact that he’s an android,” he says. “I’m electing him precisely because he is! Machines don’t make mistakes.”

Cut to John of Us. He smiles into the camera. A voiceover says: “John of Us! Made to Rule! Born to Run!”

Now a classroom appears on the screen. A little boy is standing at the front by the teacher. On the touchboard it says: “2×3 = ?”

“Four,” says the boy.

The teacher shakes her head.

“Well, that wouldn’t have happened to John of Us,” she says. Then she turns to the camera. “The world economy is much too complex for us humans to be able to understand it. We need John of Us!”

The voiceover says: “Machines don’t make mistakes!”

Now the little boy himself turns to the camera: “From our Future Lessons we know that all problems will be solved technologically in the future. Give us children a future! Choose John of Us. Vote for the future!”

The voiceover says: “Machines don’t make mistakes!”

Now John of Us can be seen, smiling broadly as he strides past a crowd of excited people up the steps to the presidential palace. John shakes hands, has a brief chat, and takes a baby into his arms. Suddenly, a man dressed in the classical garb of a religious fanatic from QuantityLand 7 storms toward the crowd with a machine gun. He begins to shoot. John positions himself in front of a mother and her baby. The bullets bounce off him. Two policemen come out of nowhere and overpower the attacker.

Martyn turns off the monitor, shaking his head.

“I’ve always been afraid that the machines would seize power one day,” he says to his wife. “But the fact they would do it by having themselves elected—now that I wasn’t expecting.”

Denise nods.

“I mean, what’s next? Voting rights for machines?”

Denise nods.

“Soon we’ll be letting the machines tell us what to do!” cries Martyn.

The voice of the Smart Home speaks up: “Martyn, your blood pressure is rising. You have a stressful workday ahead of you. You should go to sleep.”

Martyn gives the only answer he knows the system will accept: “OK.”