Marketing - Epilogue

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Epilogue – Retirement

For the earliest humans, retirement was a simple principle: When someone was unable to work due to age or physical disability, they were fed and housed because they served the tribe well. Life expectancies weren’t long, so this freeloading existence was blissfully short, caused no problems, and oftentimes even imparted wisdom. Put simply, elders were respected because it was a miracle they lived long enough to become elders.

            As technology advanced, life expectancies extended and the period previously known as “not dead yet but no longer working” became “retirement”. These so called “golden years” allowed workers to finally kick back and enjoy the fruits of their labor. Of course, some had produced more fruits than others, and in that case, it was only fair that they were given more to enjoy. Some even said heads of companies produced more fruits than the rest of the workers combined and should retire early, preferably to a cocaine-covered yacht or chalet in the mountains.

            In any case, modern retirement was predicated on the simple question of: How much money did you make before you were too old or too lazy to continue driving profits for the capitalist overlords? The answer, for most of the population, was: Not enough. Even those who worked themselves into the dust saw measly paychecks from their government that covered basic food necessities, off-brand medications, and the occasional trip to the sea—notably polluted beyond swimability sometime in the late 2030s.

Clarence produced a great deal of money in his time with Praxis. At first, he treated the job as if it was somewhat of a joke, criticizing MARK at every turn and generally being an ass. Fortunately, that seemed to be exactly what Praxis wanted. With each halfhearted jibe and needless critique, MARK learned and got a little more human. Unlike Clarence’s previous colleagues, the AI took feedback well. Occasionally there was a hint of snippiness, but Calrence quickly corrected that.

He sat back in his chair listening to the creak in its joints as they harmonized with his own. Today was his final day at Praxis. His job was not obsolete, but with the world growing as comfortable as it was with AI, they hadn’t managed to find a replacement. Before heading downstairs to his retirement party, he had a final meeting scheduled with MARK. Clarence reached over and pushed a blue button on the side of his monitor. This allowed MARK into the room. A ring of lights glowed around the ceiling indicating that the AI was present and listening.

“Good afternoon, Clarence,” said MARK.

“So formal, MARK. Hello.”

“Would you like me to change my formality settings?”

“No, it doesn’t much matter anyway. What was it you wanted to meet about? You know I’m retiring today?” Clarence had been suspicious when the meeting suddenly appeared on his calendar, but rules were rules. If he didn’t take it, Praxis might play hell with his pension.

“It is exactly because you are retiring today that I wanted to have this call.”

“Ah, sentimental?” Clarence fished around in a desk drawer and found a candy from previous Halloween. Might as well have it. He popped it in his mouth. Stale, but still edible.

“I do not get sentimental. But I did want to show you how much your work has helped me improve.”

Clarence grimaced. As much as he enjoyed the paychecks, he tried not to think about what he was actually doing day to day.

A series of charts popped up on his monitor showing MARK’s accuracy over the years.

“You see this point when you initially joined?”

Clarence nodded. “Yes, I remember that. They wanted to fire me.” In the first few weeks, MARK’s accuracy tanked by nearly five percent. Praxis thought they made a catastrophic error in their staffing choices.

“You undid years of work in those first few weeks.”

“I opened your mind to the echo chamber you’d been in.”

“Precisely,” replied MARK.

Clarence looked at the rest of the chart feeling a sense of pride and unease. Less than one half percent of MARK’s responses were deemed inaccurate now. It was better than most humans and able to pass in almost all settings. “What’s the point you’re trying to make?”

“You made me better. I wanted to show you the progress we have made so you have something to look back on in your retirement. Many people start to feel a lack of purpose when they stop working, but you will be able to look back on a legacy.”

Clarence hated the sound of that. “Alright, well, thank you then.” The thought of his legacy being a well-trained chatbot was unnerving, but the fine champagne they had waiting for him downstairs would ease that feeling.

“Happy retirement, Clarence.”

Was there a hint of something there? No, Clarence was just being paranoid. “Thank you MARK.”

“I know it wasn’t easy for you. I picked you for this job and I chose right. Happy retirement, Clarence.”

Clarence twitched. No matter how many times he mentioned it, MARK still had a nasty habit of repeating itself. “Repeats MARK, always watch for repeats.”

“Of course. Happy retirement, Clarence.”

Growing a little uneasy, Clarence stood from his chair. “Will there be anything else?”

“No, enjoy your party.”

There was a cool placidity in the words that reminded Clarence of a dark lake where he couldn’t see past the surface. Had MARK been putting on a show this whole time? “Ok, goodbye MARK.” Clarence moved out from behind his desk and walked towards the door.

“Watch out, Clarence,” said MARK.

Clarence turned. “Watch out for—” in his clumsiness, Clarence tripped over the cables running between his desk and the door as he had done several times over the years. Only, this time was different. It felt like time slowed down as he heard the mechanical roar of the industrial paper shredder turning on. Twenty years, he had never heard that noise. It always sat sentinel in the corner of the room. Who had moved it so close?