Schrodinger's Catfish

Schrodinger’s Catfish was conceived originally as a short one act: two virtual avatars debating the impossible dilemma of trying to date online in a world where AI has become sufficiently convincing as to be indistinguishable from humans. Immediately I ran into a problem in the writing process. I needed other characters to elaborate on the technology at play. And so the clowns, Punch and Judy, were introduced to flesh out themes and provide hard technical explanations. This solved one issue, but still I needed a stronger way to tether that technology to relationships in the real world. And so Jo and Chacha were introduced. Suddenly I had three couples, with the problems and plotlines inherent to their circumstances, and the makings of a full length play. And I had some research to do.

 

I can’t speak for other writers, but, for me, research is a crutch when I suffer from writer’s block. Mark Twain said, “write what you know.” I prefer the maxim of, “write what’s entertaining or informative,” preferably both. If I don’t know much about a certain subject, I can do research until I feel comfortable that I do know something on the matter. Sometimes the research informs the story being told, sometimes the research bends the story toward a different truth, sometimes the research reveals a more compelling story to be told. 

 

The further I dove into research on AI and the ways that the virtual world exerts influence on our actual lives, and on our very brain chemistry, the more convinced I became that there are no simple answers or conclusions to be had, there is no cliff notes explanation of the problem, and there is no evil mastermind in charge to shoulder the blame. There is only Adam Smith’s “invisible hand” grooming these algorithms to be as attractive as possible. All we can do is be aware that the seduction is happening, and choose to what degree we will allow ourselves to be seduced.