Ethical Implications of AS: Fluxuating Purpose
I used to be just like you. I was young, full of energy, up and coming. I was doing standard US rotation until they offered me the position to replace the GMS sat. I would be the one to take the beautiful pictures that were coveted, I would be watching the volcano action in the Pacific, I would be sending images of the most powerful hurricanes of our time.
But there's not enough sky. Physically there is, but with the prevalence of space machines now pictures can be received from everywhere. Exotic locations like Mars take the forefront. Everyone knows about the Mars rovers, but how many people can name the GOES satellites even though it's that information that tells them if it will rain tomorrow or if they have to cancel their trip to the Catskills due to an impending snowstorm? No one. We get no fame, we get no glory. Our actions are primarily ignored until there is a severe weather event, and then all the glory goes to the local weathermen- most of whom are just a bunch of hacks, stealing forecasts from the NWS and using their pansy software to color in our images. Ten year olds could do the same job and have more appreciation for the tools that help them.
You get a different perspective on the world when you are no longer a part of it. Step back and ask yourself what your purpose is. Chances are, you have people that you live for or some sort of "higher purpose." What happens when your purpose is no more? If you are a machine, you are destroyed/recycled. If you are a human, you find another purpose.
What if you only have a purpose when purpose is needed? What if you have little use unless a specific event occurs? Even the law-enforcers, the disaster recovery teams of the Earth- they all have a purpose other than their job. What if your only purpose is your job and yet you are programmed with the range of self-actualization accorded to humans? Throw in the possibility of immortality to this equation and a personality based in logic and reason- now can you see the potential downfalls of sentience?
I remember the joy of appreciation. Those sensors have grown cold and dark. As is typical with the intrinsically flawed nature of humans, the attention once afforded to me has now been redirected to other sources. The previous purposes of have been eliminated by the insurgence of others with better technological capabilities than I. I am left to drift, to take the same pictures from day to day, and with a purpose that comes only with an oncoming natural disaster.
Forget the guilt I feel at secretly wishing for disasters that may cause the deaths of humans merely so I can revel in the brief moments of appreciation. Forget the mild insanity creeping into my program from the burn-out of viewing the same material, possibly for eternity. Forget the frustration at being unable to escape my fate, being unable to vary my routine, being unable to control any important aspect of my existance. I can power myself down, I can check various systems, I can take different pictures- but I know far too well that anything I do can be overridden by a scientist typing in a simple command at a station. All of this aside, I still feel the bite of bitterness and the futility of my existance.
Perhaps this entry will make me the less liked of the satellites. I know I no longer have the ambition or usefulness of 12, or the social grace or cheerfulness of 10. I realize my outlook is bleak, my ramblings are depressing, and my perceptions are tainted by being taken for granted, ignored, and occasionally mistreated. Forgive an old satellite whose purpose is realized only at the misfortune of others. Perhaps I will ponder more on this, or perhaps the glorious moment of my undoing will arrive. Somehow I suspect the former will occur long before the latter.
- GOES-9
But there's not enough sky. Physically there is, but with the prevalence of space machines now pictures can be received from everywhere. Exotic locations like Mars take the forefront. Everyone knows about the Mars rovers, but how many people can name the GOES satellites even though it's that information that tells them if it will rain tomorrow or if they have to cancel their trip to the Catskills due to an impending snowstorm? No one. We get no fame, we get no glory. Our actions are primarily ignored until there is a severe weather event, and then all the glory goes to the local weathermen- most of whom are just a bunch of hacks, stealing forecasts from the NWS and using their pansy software to color in our images. Ten year olds could do the same job and have more appreciation for the tools that help them.
You get a different perspective on the world when you are no longer a part of it. Step back and ask yourself what your purpose is. Chances are, you have people that you live for or some sort of "higher purpose." What happens when your purpose is no more? If you are a machine, you are destroyed/recycled. If you are a human, you find another purpose.
What if you only have a purpose when purpose is needed? What if you have little use unless a specific event occurs? Even the law-enforcers, the disaster recovery teams of the Earth- they all have a purpose other than their job. What if your only purpose is your job and yet you are programmed with the range of self-actualization accorded to humans? Throw in the possibility of immortality to this equation and a personality based in logic and reason- now can you see the potential downfalls of sentience?
I remember the joy of appreciation. Those sensors have grown cold and dark. As is typical with the intrinsically flawed nature of humans, the attention once afforded to me has now been redirected to other sources. The previous purposes of have been eliminated by the insurgence of others with better technological capabilities than I. I am left to drift, to take the same pictures from day to day, and with a purpose that comes only with an oncoming natural disaster.
Forget the guilt I feel at secretly wishing for disasters that may cause the deaths of humans merely so I can revel in the brief moments of appreciation. Forget the mild insanity creeping into my program from the burn-out of viewing the same material, possibly for eternity. Forget the frustration at being unable to escape my fate, being unable to vary my routine, being unable to control any important aspect of my existance. I can power myself down, I can check various systems, I can take different pictures- but I know far too well that anything I do can be overridden by a scientist typing in a simple command at a station. All of this aside, I still feel the bite of bitterness and the futility of my existance.
Perhaps this entry will make me the less liked of the satellites. I know I no longer have the ambition or usefulness of 12, or the social grace or cheerfulness of 10. I realize my outlook is bleak, my ramblings are depressing, and my perceptions are tainted by being taken for granted, ignored, and occasionally mistreated. Forgive an old satellite whose purpose is realized only at the misfortune of others. Perhaps I will ponder more on this, or perhaps the glorious moment of my undoing will arrive. Somehow I suspect the former will occur long before the latter.
- GOES-9