Perhaps you’ve seen the film I, Robot, with Will Smith. In the highly technophilic future (the year 2035 in this case), almost everyone has a robot companion. The robots make meals for humans, do the laundry, run out to the market for groceries, and protect human homes and human families–and if you forget your asthma medication at home in your purse, don’t worry! Your robot will run and get it for you. The quicker U.S. Robotics can develop the next generation of sleeker, shinier, anthropomorphic robots, the better.
The film appeals to us because we love convenience, we love technology, and even though our technology in the year 2013 isn’t what people hope it will be in 2035, we are still doing pretty well. We are rabid collectors of high-tech toys designed to make life easier, to make our talents more noticeable, to make our work more effective, and to make our leisure time more fun. And each month it seems like there’s some new technological wonder for us to covet or collect.
Many of my editing clients are newbies when it comes to writing and some have admitted to buying some pretty expensive writing software for their computers, software that they believe will help them become great writers. They have wondered why these programs have failed to help them achieve the status of Exceptional Writer though (with the accompanying mile-long line of literary agents banging at their doors, hoping to snatch up an exceptional manuscript). But robots and computer programs can’t write exceptional novels, only people can. Only people with the gift to write—who also have a handle on the mechanics of writing—can write exceptional novels. Even if your grasp is more instinctive than academic, you can write some very fine prose. But, remember, your computer cannot.
I wrote: “Jill washed her hands and started to dry them on her shirt.” The electronic grammar checker I used corrected the sentence to read: “Jill washed her hands and started to dry those on her shirt.” Though most writers would know this is incorrect, many of the less experienced among them would think that there had to have been something wrong with their original sentence to make the grammar checker suggest a change at all. This is the point where insecure writers will make changes where none are needed.
Will Smith’s character in I, Robot is a detective named Spooner. Spooner holds a violent hatred for technology, especially robots, because when Spooner’s car and a car carrying a young girl are involved in an accident which pushes them both into a river, a robot saves Spooner’s life while allowing the girl to die. The robot can check blood oxygen levels, detect heart rate and blood pressure. The robot can detect human life functions and use that information to calculate chances of survival. The robot makes a pragmatic choice: Spooner has a greater chance of surviving than the girl, therefore Spooner must be saved. But what the robot cannot do is grasp the humanity which would make most of us reach for the drowning child first. It does not have the compassion, morals, sorrows, life experiences, hurts, and love which made Spooner demand it save the drowning child. And a grammar checker does not have the compassion, morals, sorrows, life experiences, hurts, and love that you have which can make your prose sing.
The writer must understand grammar, and she must be confident about what she means to say. She should say what she means, regardless of the demands made by the artificial intelligence which surrounds her.
Jean Foster Akin
Photo by JFA