Not Enough Technology to Save the Election

As an expat, I’ve watched the last four elections north of the border. Some years, I’ve been able to participate. Each ballot submission requires advance planning, snail mail, and a lot of annoying, ancient forms.

Each state does voting differently. After all, this generates a lot of the post-election ruckus. It allows for candidates to have something to complain about if the polls aren’t favorable. Blame it on the voting style! The year 2000 featured “hanging chads.” Unfortunately, in 2020, much of the dispute focused on electronic voting. The claims were largely fictitious and eventually disproved. However, all I could think about was my dashed hopes for one day voting electronically in CT.

A fellow American expat seemed genuinely shocked at my voting experience. This was a couple elections ago. Each time I contact the registrar in my home state, I hope for a different outcome. I want a modern, efficient and reliable process. We’re encouraged to vote and yet, it can be a difficult and frustrating process in some parts of the US. Then I hear criticism for not voting.

Since I moved after the last election in 2020, I started the process to get a ballot at the end of the summer. Anticipating another paper ballot, I started the process in early September. This time I was able to search online for my registration. I couldn’t locate it. This was not entirely surprising because I have a complicated last name. I often find it misspelled or punctuated incorrectly. I located the registrar’s office email and sent a ballot request. Before going on vacation in early October, I repeated the process certain that I would come home to a ballot in my mailbox, or instructions. Nothing.

I logged on to a federal website to try and print out a ballot. Somehow I couldn’t download the form and was unable to get it out in time.

When the stakes are so high and the consequences so dire, why is the basic action of casting a ballot still so difficult? Why are there so many variations? Why is the process a weird hybrid of some electronic elements combined with some very manual ones?

Since that rocky election in 2004 that drove me north over the border, I declared the “Dark and Stormy” as my official election night drink. I’ll be having those (yes, plural) tomorrow night to watch the ruckus.

Reality Check

Hanna adjusted her goggles. It had been a rough night. First she lost Bean’s body. Even worse was the way she lost it. She watched it get sucked into the inky ooze that used to be the ocean. The waters now so congested with plastics, filth, and rampant growth of undesirable organisms, even the waves couldn’t break through. Every once in a while something tsunami-like came along. The strength in it enough to dredge up a sticky, viscous sludge from the depths, dumping and spewing on everything in its path.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts. Ater that horrendous “rescue” mission, she needed her recharge time. The lost body, the failed search after in Bean’s house. She knew there hadn’t been anything to find. If there was, she would have found it. Hanna felt sure about this, but her boss didn’t share this confidence. Hanna could still hear the gruff voice barking her ID number along with a few expletives and artful descriptions of her ineptitude. Yes, Hanna decided, they were artful descriptions. Yet, not important in this moment.

After adjusting the goggles Hanna used her feed to review the Augmented Reality options. After being so close to what used to be the ocean she definitely wanted a salt-water theme. She only had a vague recollection of what the beach used to be like. Even as a child the beach always had trash on it, bad smells, and loamy looking sand patches. But at least the waves had been there, lulling her with their relentless shushing.

Honing in on salt water options, Hanna decided she wanted a colder water theme. She whizzed through some of her favorites. Swimming in Antarctica among the ice bergs and penguins. Or the Pacific Northwest among kelp forests, otters, whales, seals, and other marine life. Sometimes she preferred the cold, gray icy waters of the North Sea. Too harsh to visit in person, but just right to work out tension in the Endless Pool.

Tonight, however, she opted for colors and animal activity. Hanna selected Ketchitan, Alaska. She set the pace on her Endless Pool and stepped in. Goggles in place, the pool magically transformed into the Alaskan coast line rife with curious fish and kelp forests swaying gentlly under the dappled sun rays. In the distance she could see humpbacks gliding beneath the surface. She got on her stomach and started swimming.

Operation: ER

Even if they could conceive naturally, the laws were hazy. Too many stored eggs already, people told them. Some of the most zealous referred to the eggs as “children.” People frowned upon natural conception with so many unborn and fertilized “children” awaiting birth. Year after year, waiting patiently and inert, nestled in their cryopreservation capsules. There were laws, and sometimes serious repercussions, for couples trying to bypass Operation: ER.

Clutching their hands together tightly, the couple stood before the Baby Designer Studio’s looming entryway. They discreetly scanned the area trying to glimpse the elusive orange-lit door the Thrinters used. With thirtieth birthdays approaching, time was running out for the couple to make a decision. Only young bodies could be used. Only young people would be considered for Operation:ER. However, the choices remained slim.

One option resulted in receiving an egg instead of an embryo. At least this possibility provided an opportunity for half the couple to fully participate. The other option, fertilized embryos, meant the couple could try to conceive on their own later. If, and only if, the embryos didn’t implant. With both options, couples had no choice about the age, quality, or really anything about the biological materials received. If an offer happened, they had to accept.

The female, in particular had to accept the presented option. Contractually, and in some cases willingly, offering up her uterus to “rescue” the unborn eggs, or embryos. People used other names to refer to the frozen eggs and fertilized embryos. A strategy used by many eager to appear on the moral “high road” with their virtuous acts to save” children.” Yet, the morality only went so far. To date, no pregnant women, nor any person storing eggs or embryos, received any financial assistance. So even though the law considered these eggs, or whatever they were called, to be “children,” they didn’t receive the benefits of one.

Each glanced at the other through a side eye. A silent reminder to stay calm. Take deep breaths. Steady the heart beat. Erratic feed readings could indicate instability or result in further testing. Was this really what they wanted? The pull for a family was strong, but was this the best way?

The female swallowed. Her saliva rasping noisily on the way down her throat. She squeezed her partner’s hand. “Operation Egg Retrieval, here we come,” she whispered, her foot stepping toward the entry.

AI’s Hunger

Artificial Intelligence hunger is insatiable. It’s always hungry for more data and more information in the digital realm. On the physical side, powering AI machines and services requires huge amounts of energy and space. Huge data warehouses are needed to accommodate the machines providing AI services to people. Technology equipment fills the warehouses. They require lots of electricity to operate. Yet, these are only some of the costs behind the scenes.

Beyond AI’s appetite, it’s curious to think about how it’s changed our own longings. The power and potential of AI has filled us with new kinds of yearnings. A different kind of greed to have things instantly that once might have seemed unattainable. With the power of Generative AI, it’s possible for anyone to produce a book, or an artistic work in mere minutes. This can happen even without any talent, training, or skill. All one needs is the ability to create a good prompt.

It always reminds me of a certain character I’ve read about in myths and folktales. Each culture describes it differently, but the underlying intent is similar. In Asian cultures, the portrayal is sometimes as a hungry ghost. Nothing is ever enough to fill or satisfy this being’s intense emotional needs. Some Indigenous cultures call the being Wendingo. Essentially it’s a creature with an insatiable hunger. The more the creature eats, the hungrier it gets.

Are we collectively, as a society, headed in this direction by placing so much energy into AI? The longer AI is around and continues to advance, our uses for it also continue to swell. Or rather, our desires grow, even if it never becomes a reality. Though many places want to use AI, sometimes the service cost can be prohibitive, especially when compared with the perceived savings. And yet, we continue to lust after the potentials of AI.

AI’s insatiable hunger for more information, more data, more electricity, more space, more everything is transferring to us. We also want more analysis, more creations, more automation, more insights, more everything that we think AI is promising us. However, everything comes at a cost. Will our societal cost be satisfaction? Will we ever feel full again?

The Comfort of Warmth

There’s something so comforting about feeling warm when you’re sick, uncomfortable, or feeling off somehow. It’s probably because warm is that perfect middle ground. You’re not expending energy trying to heat up. You’re not working hard to cool down. Being warm is effortless.

Many years ago, recovering from surgery, my favorite aunt came to stay with me. Near the end of her visit she tripped down a stair and hurt her knee. Even though the outside temperature was comfortable, she asked for blankets because she wanted to feel warm. More than the temperature, I think it was also the comfort brought from snuggling in a blanket, like a cloth hug wrapped around her.

I also enjoy feeling warm, snugged in blankets. I’m a self-professed blanket hog. I might be worse than most because I tuck the blankets all around my body. It makes me feel safe and cozy, cocooned inside the blanket nest. And I definitely stay warm, too.

Other things that elicit feelings of warmth are hot tea, or any type of hot drink. This feels especially comforting on a cold day, during illness, or after something big happens. I recall in the moments after my father died one of the workers placed a cup of piping hot tea in my hand. Though I can’t remember the temperature, it was June, so I know it wasn’t cold outside. At that moment, there was something visceral about the heat in that tea. I remember the feeling of my hand curling around the styrofoam cup and the warm steam rising towards my face. I was in a bad state of shock, but instinctively forced myself to take a few sips. Looking back at it, I suppose the physical sensation of something hot in that moment helped to re-establish a physical connection to ground me.

I’m also a fan of hot soup. Somehow soup is one of those foods that feels warm and comforting in my belly, even if it’s hot outside! Eating heat in the heat helps me feel adjusted to the temperatures. And eating heat in the cold weather helps to warm me up and feel nourished.

Perhaps one of my favorite ways to feel warmth is from the sun. Few things compare to those early warming rays of spring sunshine after a long, cold winter. It’s comforting.

Taking Care of the Little Stuff

Why does it always seem that we become more productive leading up to a major deadline, event, or vacation? What is it about these occasions that makes us change our habits? Even if the change is only temporary, it serves to remind us of what is possible. If only, we can harness the changes and incorporate them into everyday routines.

I recall when reading David Allen’s book, Getting Things Done, he also focused on this question. There is something about a looming deadline that makes us focus. I go into a state of hyper-focus. This is the case whether I need to catch a plane, host an event, or prepare for something big. When the deadline passes, I normally revert back to my old habits. While I do complete lots of things, other things often fall to the side. The tasks of lower priority end up hovering at the bottom of the list remainig untouched until… the next big deadline.

In considering what’s different about these times for me, the pace sticks out. I’m often moving faster and working longer than normal. By default, this extra speed and time allows me to complete more. However, it’s also unsustainable. I prefer to maintain a steady tempo, working in incremental sprints as needed, to get through the hard bits.

I’ve been employing this strategy for a number of years. Growing up, one of my best friends committed to cleaning her bedroom for 5-minutes a day. At the time I scoffed at the idea. To me it seemed that 5-minutes was too short to really accomplish anything, so why bother. Since then, I’ve come to adopt this idea in a host of different ways. What I discovered from Sprinting through Clutter and Modifying my own Bad Habits, is that the small sprints help a lot in the long run. I like to think of them as small-scale maintenance. I’ve also discovered that a lot can be accomplished in 5-minutes.

Five minutes is enough time for me to empty the dish drainer or put away all my folded laundry. It’s just enough time for me to complete something small to prevent major build ups from happening. While it’s not sufficient time to accomplish the really big things, it does make those looming deadlines easier to tackle. It takes care of the little stuff, 5-minutes at a time.