In the care of AI

The American population is getting older, in age if not in wisdom--a circumstance precipitated by a declining birth rate over many decades. According to the Population Reference Bureau, “The number of Americans ages 65 and older is projected to increase from 58 million in 2022 to 82 million by 2050 (a 47% percent increase), and the 65-and-older age group’s share of the total population is projected to rise from between 17% to 23%.” And America is not alone. South Korea, Japan, China, most of Europe—a crisis of care is already here. There are not enough young people with the means or inclination to take care of the millions of people reaching the age when care is precisely what is required.

With disaster looming, countries like Singapore are pouring millions of dollars into technology. Robots capable of performing light domestic tasks lengthen the time older people can retain their independence. For those in nursing facilities, robots lift them, conduct their exercise classes, entertain them, and monitor their medications. Researchers are even developing AI technology to detect emotional trouble like depression. A company called SoundKeepers collects “voice biomarkers to detect early signs of depression among seniors.” The AI distinguishes between “subtle … acoustic properties—such as changes in pitch or tone.”

The research involves taking voice samples that, SoundKeepers promises, will be “anonymized and stored in a secure central storage terminal” and used only in health care settings. “We don’t want people to use it unlawfully,” explains SoundKeepers, “So even when we use it in the community, it must be to licensed people, with permission from the person to record their voices. … Otherwise, it will be dangerous.”

Robots are only ever “intended as a support” for medical professionals and care providers, “rather than a replacement.” Even though some are being developed to be controlled remotely, their designers assure us they would never cause harm. Human care is good, obviously, in that it doesn’t require years of research and millions of lines of code to produce. And yet, in one study, researchers found a “decrease in the use of patient restraints and in the pressure ulcers or bedsores that nursing home residents commonly suffer, largely because of a lack of mobility. … By removing the physical strain associated with certain tasks … robots may have made room for care workers to focus on tasks better suited for human beings.”

Presented with a problem, humanity tries to invent a workable solution. But scientists and social engineers often fail to notice that a preponderance of the tribulations requiring creative ingenuity are caused by humanity, and that, more times than we would like, the fixes themselves make everything worse.

There is no time to go back several philosophical paces and consider essential questions about what it means to be human. Not that answering those questions is that hard. “Care” is a central facet of our humanity. God bequeathed his creatures a subtly interdependent world where love and work were meant to be a crown of glory and honor.

Creating an AI to “detect” depression represents clear evidence of the Fall and the reality of unredeemed humanity. It is bad enough that my phone presumes to tell me how many steps to take a day for my health, and that I am indulging in too much “screen time.” Worse is the idea that some kinds of work associated with the frail and vulnerable might not be well-suited for “humans.” Who else is suited to do it? Apparently, a computer encased in plastic that can never communicate the spiritual bonds of love?

“What is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?” the Psalmist wonders. He is so frail, so beset by enemies, and yet all of creation is set under his feet. The writer of Hebrews takes up the line and sees that Jesus is the Man, the One who bent His back and stooped to lift us out of the pit. God didn’t send an angel or some other type of being to save us. He came in the flesh, face to face. Our efforts to care for each other are derivative of that incarnate work. It suited Him, and therefore, it suits us. Though we may be grateful for technology of many kinds— especially those that lift the human frame and help its healing—ultimately, the crisis of care will only be solved through the holy work of flesh and blood.