AI Will Save Us? AI Will Kill Us? Here's What Actually Matters for Caregivers
I don't know about you, but my social feeds have been full of the news that a former Anthropic Researcher, Jacob Coxen, stated, among other things, "The people building A.I. earnestly believe that it could kill us all by the end of the decade." Annnd then a company executive came out and said, basically, "Yes, and we don't know how to stop it!" (not a direct quote, but an exclamation point was used in the tweet.) People online are arguing whether this is accurate, a marketing stunt, an inevitability, so we might as well not do anything about it, and myriad other takes. YIKES.
But wait, there's more! My feed wasn't just the AI doomers; there is also plenty of talk about Apple's launch of Siri AI as part of new and improved Apple Intelligence (AI, get it?!) It will do things like keep track of everything for you, even your personal details across all of your apps, from messaging to email to calendar to your grocery store app. Not to mention the new health data tracking through Apple Watch that can warn us of negative trends and alert others in an emergency…it will save us!
And honestly, I think this finally broke my brain. I had just HAD IT! Which is it?! Is AI going to kill us or save us?! Geesh. Where's Walter Cronkite to just tell me what is going on?
Of course this isn't a "new" problem: the confusion in our social feeds. Every day, we are bombarded with information and misinformation, all at once. We see an ad for an app, then a 'headline' about humans going extinct, then a meme about a celebrity or a politician, then a headline about a natural disaster or a mass casualty event. And we keep scrolling. That sucks! (scroll) That's sweet! (scroll) That's terrible! (scroll) That's a great idea! (scroll) That is sad! (scroll) This information shows up with the same amount of space and time in our feeds. This format makes it nearly impossible to tell what's relevant, accurate, and important to our lives.
And that is kind of the point. The algorithm's job isn't to prioritize things in order of actual importance in our lives; it is designed to keep you scrolling. (By the way, I am not saying this from a place of immunity on this issue. I scroll too, which is how I got into this tizzy that drove me to write this essay!) Whether AI will kill us or help us live our best lives is not contradictory to the algorithm. It's the extremes that keep us scrolling, or better yet, jumping down a rabbit hole of one of those two extremes, getting more and more convinced as we go.
This concerns me most. When our feeds jump from frivolous fun to existential crises, and back again, we lose the ability to evaluate and give varying weight to this incoming "data" to our brains. Not only do we start to view organizations, talking heads, and channels pessimistically, but we also begin to distrust ourselves. How can we possibly know what is right when we can't even figure out what is true? When we rely on social media, including news organizations that double as social media channels with opinion and gossip as part of their programming, what we thought we always knew changes on a daily basis. Searching browsers is also becoming problematic as the AI powered engines show us results based on more than just what words we type in the search bar. We are seeing what it thinks we want, what businesses have paid for us to see, and other factors based on our internet habits and the habits of those similar to us. We have no plumb line with which to measure and make prudent decisions.
Caregivers already make a million decisions a day, constantly having to be vigilant and diligent, and many of us fear that a mistake could put our loved one's life at risk. I know this feeling well. When I was deep in my caregiving journey, my mom needed so much; I had to help her with so many things, discuss so many decisions with her, decide on so many medications, doctor's appointments, and treatments, and be able to attend to her when and if she ever needed me, that I lost all ability to understand when something was actually an emergency.
Similarly to how our brain processes a news feed story about a national tragedy like we process breaking news about a celebrity, my brain started treating every phone notification as an emergency. "I need a Diet Coke!" got the same response as "I need to go to the ER!" I couldn't compute the difference. I didn't even understand I was doing it. I was on autopilot, in that fight-or-flight, can't-shut-down-for-one-second feeling. Once I got curious about why I was doing it that way, I had to take a step back and ask myself questions. What does she need? What does she want? What can I give her that helps her but also doesn't kill me? She treated the requests the same way, too. For her, I think it was the idea that if I didn't answer the call or the text about the Diet Coke, did it mean I wouldn't answer the text about the ER? She wanted reassurance, to know she wasn't alone. So while an AI companion could have probably ordered her Diet Cokes and called the ambulance, that wouldn't have met her ultimate need.
When it comes to choosing tools or services that might help us care better for our loved ones, our brain cannot sort through all the data points we've been given, so we either pick the one with the best marketing or nothing at all. We either let the algorithm tell us what we need or we throw out everything we see as fake. Either way, we aren't really making a decision based on what will help us care better; we are choosing by default.
Though I didn't have to make too many care technology decisions with my mother, since there wasn't that much out there even a couple of years ago, I have deep compassion for caregivers trying to navigate this now, especially as AI becomes the norm in our work, lifestyle, and health care experiences.
How are caregivers supposed to figure this all out? Are we to avoid technology altogether? Is that even possible? (No, if you are reading this on a phone or a computer, AI is involved somewhere.) If we do want to incorporate technology into our lives, whether it be to care for our aging parents or to help ourselves stay independent longer, how can we do this safely and effectively, and with confidence that we aren't setting the world on fire?
The answer is to look away from the screen. Not forever, but when you are trying to decide what you need. I would start with a conversation with your loved one and/or the other decision-makers in your loved one's care to decide what you and your loved one need most right now. Is it organizing appointments, medications, or health aides? Maybe it's that mom has trouble getting off the toilet without help. Yes, there are a million problems, but try to narrow it down. Is it organization that is the biggest issue or communication? Is it mobility or memory?
It is also important to think about what your priorities are when it comes to being a daughter, a son, a caregiver in this moment. What is the most important thing you want to convey to your loved one as you introduce this new solution? What do you think is most important to them? We all have more than one priority when it comes to life and caregiving, and what comes first might change over time. For example, my mom really prioritized independence. She was very independent her whole life, and the idea of living in a facility was anathema to her. She wanted to be safe too, but independence first. "I want to be home." Check. THEN, "I want to be safe here." Check. Some people might say, "I want to be safe." "I want to make this place feel like home." Neither is wrong, but you need to know which to prioritize. There's more than safety and independence. Maybe you want to prioritize time with your loved one for non-care-related tasks so you don't feel rushed or worry about what needs to be done. That might require a different type of solution.
One thing I keep coming up with as I think about care technologies and how we use them is this: What technology can help me feel more human while also preserving my aging parent's dignity? Maybe that is the best way to approach the search for a solution. Once you've decided what problem you want to solve and know what priorities you want to protect, then go back to the phone or computer and begin the search.
It can be as simple as typing in, "I need a tool or service that helps me know when my mom is stuck in her chair. It can't be complicated to use or require an app." or "I want to safely and securely organize my parent's health documents and appointment schedules so that I can access them when I need them. I will need to share access with my siblings."
That search will start you on the right track. Remember what matters to you and your loved one, and look for what you need right now, not what has cool features that you might use later. Just remember, the algorithm doesn't know your mom, her priorities, or yours. You do. Let it hand you options, but trust yourself more.
Would it have been wrong to set up something for Mom's Diet Cokes? Of course not. I could have used that space in my schedule so that when I did answer the phone, I wasn't exasperated and hurried. We tried technology for when she needed EMTs, but that didn't help her with the fear she had of being alone and needing help. So, she would push the button to call emergency services, and then she would call me (or sometimes call me first.) Because it wasn't just about getting a ride to the ER, she wanted me. She trusted me, the one who had been there with her since she got sick decades ago, who knew her wishes, her illness, and her priorities. But she also wanted a hand to hold. A voice, a real human's voice, to tell her it's ok. That I had been and would always be there.
In the end, that is how you choose the right tool. What can help you be more human when your loved one needs you most?
