The Beauty of Human Fallibility

I listen to a lot of podcasts. I enjoy them. I listen to a variety of the, though many of them are technology related. I like tech, but have precious few people in my life who are as interested in it as I am, and so this gives me an opportunity to learn about it and, if not talk with others about it, listen in on conversations about it.

Lately a topic bubbled up on one of the podcasts I listen to about a company named Rewind AI, and their new product, the Rewind Pendant. Here is the short idea: This is a pendant you wear around your neck, and it constantly is recording and saving everything you say and hear, to then transcribe it later. First things first, let's just set aside the potential for massive privacy issues with this device. The company talks about this, and I'll give them credit for at least giving it lip service. But, yeah, problems.

However, that wasn't what really struck me. What struck me was that the hosts of the podcast seemed to feel that, if the privacy issues could be adequately addressed, this would be the "holy grail" of personal life documentation. They went on at great length about how much they would like to have something to keep a perfect record of everything they did, said, and heard throughout a day.

This just struck me as wrong. I had a visceral, made my skin crawl, reaction to that idea. I had to take a moment to try and think why.

And while I am still not completely sure what about this idea seems so wrong to me, I nailed down at least one little part of it.

I believe there is beauty to be found in the fallibility of humans.

It's true! We are grossly, horribly, and at times offensively imperfect creatures. And that imperfection is part of what makes us human.

And I think that fallibility as an aspect of humanity is deeply ingrained in our societal subconscious. Throughout speculative fiction we see, time and again, the idea that robots or androids are flawed because they are NOT flawed. There is fiction describing hive-mind like aliens, and almost always, their biggest flaw is they aren't flawed like we are. They have become some perfect commune of activity and thought, every part working tirelessly toward the goals and benefit of the whole.

That isn't us. We can't seem to work together to do any good some times. And yet. That tension, that imperfection, that desire to capture, describe, and perhaps overcome said imperfection can lead to some of our most inspiring works of art. The description of our flawed nature leads to greater insight into ourselves and what makes us tick.

Yes, it also leads to some of the greatest problems facing humanity. The pride, the selfishness, the desire to set ourselves above others, these stem from our imperfect nature as well. I recognize that, and often wish it weren't so.

But would we have the beauty, the art, the inspiring works that humans can create if that tension didn't exist? I don't think it would. That tension between our imperfection and our desire to overcome it is one of the most motivating and inspiring aspects of being a human.

So, what does that have to do with Rewind AI?

I don't want a perfect record of what happens around me all the time. Would it be useful in some situations? Of course. But in so many more, I prefer the memory that my mind gives me. Sure, it may be an anodyne version of what really happened. But is that a bad thing?

Technology is making it more and more possible to alter what we used to think of as reality. Audio, video and photography are all incredibly manipulable. They can't be trusted in the way we used to think they could be (setting aside the face that editing has existed since the inception of these forms of media). But I would rather trust to the version my brain saves for me, than the version someone or something else decides to save for me. Then that memory is truly mine, flaws and all.

And I don't necessarily want or need everyone else remembering all the stupid things I do and say with absolutely clarity and perfection either! Just as my mind sands off the rough edges of what others do, I'd like theirs to soften my humanity just a bit. Oh, and my mind already does a great job at remembering all my own screw ups, I really don't need that etched in stone for all generations.

Really, though, we are a mess, all of us. Even those we don't think are messy, well, they are. And imperfections in how we recall our daily lives are part of that. I hate the idea that some of that humanity is stripped away from us. Our imperfection brings with it a lot of problems and baggage. But I would rather have that baggage than not.

Baggage is just part of what makes us human.