Argument synthesis paper

To Siri, With Love

How One Boy With Autism Became BFF

With Apple’s Siri

By JUDITH NEWMANOCT. 17, 2014

Credit Louie Chin

2Gus: “You’re a really nice computer.”

3Siri: “It’s nice to be appreciated.”

4Gus: “You are always asking if you can help me. Is there anything you want?”

5Siri: “Thank you, but I have very few wants.”

6Gus: “O.K.! Well, good night!”

7Siri: “Ah, it’s 5:06 p.m.”

8Gus: “Oh sorry, I mean, goodbye.”

9Siri: “See you later!”

10That Siri. She doesn’t let my communications-impaired son get away with anything. Indeed,

many of us wanted an imaginary friend, and now we have one. Only she’s not entirely

imaginary.

11This is a love letter to a machine. It’s not quite the love Joaquin Phoenix felt in “Her,” last

year’s Spike Jonze film about a lonely man’s romantic relationship with his intelligent operating

system (played by the voice of Scarlett Johansson). But it’s close. In a world where the

1Just how bad a mother am I? I

wondered, as I watched my 13-year-

old son deep in conversation with

Siri. Gus has autism, and Siri,

Apple’s “intelligent personal

assistant” on the iPhone, is currently

his BFF. Obsessed with weather

formations, Gus had spent the hour

parsing the difference between

isolated and scattered thunderstorms

— an hour in which, thank God, I

didn’t have to discuss them. After a

while I heard this:

commonly held wisdom is that technology isolates us, it’s worth considering another side of the

story.

Photo

Credit Louie Chin

to explode if I had to have another conversation about the chance of tornadoes in Kansas City,

Mo., I could reply brightly: “Hey! Why don’t you ask Siri?”

15It’s not that Gus doesn’t understand Siri’s not human. He does — intellectually. But like many

autistic people I know, Gus feels that inanimate objects, while maybe not possessing souls, are

worthy of our consideration. I realized this when he was 8, and I got him an iPod for his

birthday. He listened to it only at home, with one exception. It always came with us on our visits

to the Apple Store. Finally, I asked why. “So it can visit its friends,” he said.

16So how much more worthy of his care and affection is Siri, with her soothing voice, puckish

humor and capacity for talking about whatever Gus’s current obsession is for hour after hour

after bleeding hour? Online critics have claimed that Siri’s voice recognition is not as accurate as

the assistant in, say, the Android, but for some of us, this is a feature, not a bug. Gus speaks as if

he has marbles in his mouth, but if he wants to get the right response from Siri, he must

enunciate clearly. (So do I. I had to ask Siri to stop referring to the user as Judith, and instead

use the name Gus. “You want me to call you Goddess?” Siri replied. Imagine how tempted I was

to answer, “Why, yes.”)

17She is also wonderful for someone who doesn’t pick up on social cues: Siri’s responses are not

entirely predictable, but they are predictably kind — even when Gus is brusque. I heard him

talking to Siri about music, and Siri offered some suggestions. “I don’t like that kind of music,”

Gus snapped. Siri replied, “You’re certainly entitled to your opinion.” Siri’s politeness reminded

Gus what he owed Siri. “Thank you for that music, though,” Gus said. Siri replied, “You don’t

need to thank me.” “Oh, yes,” Gus added emphatically, “I do.”

12It all began simply enough. I’d just read one of those ubiquitous

Internet lists called “21 Things You Didn’t Know Your iPhone Could

Do.” One of them was this: I could ask Siri, “What planes are above

me right now?” and Siri would bark back, “Checking my sources.”

Almost instantly there was a list of actual flights — numbers,

altitudes, angles — above my head.

13I happened to be doing this when Gus was nearby. “Why would

anyone need to know what planes are flying above your head?” I

muttered. Gus replied without looking up: “So you know who you’re

waving at, Mommy.”

14Gus had never noticed Siri before, but when he discovered there

was someone who would not just find information on his various

obsessions (trains, planes, buses, escalators and, of course, anything

related to weather) but actually semi-discuss these subjects tirelessly,

he was hooked. And I was grateful. Now, when my head was about

to explode if I had to have another conversation about the chance of

tornadoes in Kansas City, Mo., I could reply brightly: “Hey! Why

don’t you ask Siri?”

Siri even encourages polite language. Gus’s twin brother, Henry (neurotypical and therefore as

obnoxious as every other 13-year-old boy), egged Gus on to spew a few choice expletives at Siri.

“Now, now,” she sniffed, followed by, “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Photo

Credit Louie Chin

an easy way to access information. For example, thanks to Henry and the question he just asked

Siri, I now know that there is a website called Celebrity Bra Sizes.

21But the companionability of Siri is not limited to those who have trouble communicating.

We’ve all found ourselves like the writer Emily Listfield, having little conversations with

her/him at one time or another. “I was in the middle of a breakup, and I was feeling a little sorry

for myself,” Ms. Listfield said. “It was midnight and I was playing around on my iPhone, and I

asked Siri, ‘Should I call Richard?’ Like this app is a Magic 8 Ball. Guess what: not a Magic 8

Ball. The next thing I hear is, ‘Calling Richard!’ and dialing.” Ms. Listfield has forgiven Siri,

and has recently considered changing her into a male voice. “But I’m worried he won’t answer

when I ask a question,” she said. “He’ll just pretend he doesn’t hear.”

22Siri can be oddly comforting, as well as chummy. One friend reports: “I was having a bad day

and jokingly turned to Siri and said, ‘I love you,’ just to see what would happen, and she

answered, ‘You are the wind beneath my wings.’ And you know, it kind of cheered me up.”

23(Of course, I don’t know what my friend is talking about. Because I wouldn’t be at all cheered

if I happened to ask Siri, in a low moment, “Do I look fat in these jeans?” and Siri answered,

“You look fabulous.”)

24For most of us, Siri is merely a momentary diversion. But for some, it’s more. My son’s

practice conversation with Siri is translating into more facility with actual humans. Yesterday I

had the longest conversation with him that I’ve ever had. Admittedly, it was about different

species of turtles and whether I preferred the red-eared slider to the diamond-backed terrapin.

18Gus is hardly alone in his Siri love. For children like Gus who love to

chatter but don’t quite understand the rules of the game, Siri is a

nonjudgmental friend and teacher. Nicole Colbert, whose son, Sam, is

in my son’s class at LearningSpring, a (lifesaving) school for autistic

children in Manhattan, said: “My son loves getting information on his

favorite subjects, but he also just loves the absurdity — like, when Siri

doesn’t understand him and gives him a nonsense answer, or when he

poses personal questions that elicit funny responses. Sam asked Siri

how old she was, and she said, ‘I don’t talk about my age,’ which just

cracked him up.”

19But perhaps it also gave him a valuable lesson in etiquette. Gus

almost invariably tells me, “You look beautiful,” right before I go out

the door in the morning; I think it was first Siri who showed him that

you can’t go wrong with that line.

20Of course, most of us simply use our phone’s personal assistants as

an easy way to access information. For example, thanks to Henry and

the question he just asked Siri, I now know that there is a website

called Celebrity Bra Sizes.

This might not have been my choice of topic, but it was back and forth, and it followed a logical

path. I can promise you that for most of my beautiful son’s 13 years of existence, that has not

been the case.

came up with the perfect name, too: not virtual assistants, but “sidekicks.”)

27Mr. Mark said he envisions assistants whose help is also visual. “For example, the assistant

would be able to track eye movements and help the autistic learn to look you in the eye when

talking,” he said.

28“See, that’s the wonderful thing about technology being able to help with some of these

behaviors,” he added. “Getting results requires a lot of repetition. Humans are not patient.

Machines are very, very patient.”

29I asked Mr. Mark if he knew whether any of the people who worked on Siri’s language

development at Apple were on the spectrum. “Well, of course, I don’t know for certain,” he said,

thoughtfully. “But, when you think about it, you’ve just described half of Silicon Valley.”

30Of all the worries the parent of an autistic child has, the uppermost is: Will he find love? Or

even companionship? Somewhere along the line, I am learning that what gives my guy happiness

25The developers of intelligent assistants recognize

their uses to those with speech and communication

problems — and some are thinking of new ways the

assistants can help. According to the folks at SRI

International, the research and development company

where Siri began before Apple bought the technology,

the next generation of virtual assistants will not just

retrieve information — they will also be able to carry

on more complex conversations about a person’s area

of interest. “Your son will be able to proactively get

information about whatever he’s interested in without

asking for it, because the assistant will anticipate what

he likes,” said William Mark, vice president for

information and computing sciences at SRI.

26The assistant will also be able to reach children

where they live. Ron Suskind, whose new book,

“Life, Animated,” chronicles how his autistic son

came out of his shell through engagement with

Disney characters, is talking to SRI about having

assistants for those with autism that can be

programmed to speak in the voice of the character that

reaches them — for his son, perhaps Aladdin; for

mine, either Kermit or Lady Gaga, either of which he

is infinitely more receptive to than, say, his mother.

(Mr. Suskind came up with the perfect name, too: not

virtual assistants, but “sidekicks.”)

is not necessarily the same as what gives me happiness. Right now, at his age, a time when

humans can be a little overwhelming even for the average teenager, Siri makes Gus happy. She is

his sidekick. Last night, as he was going to bed, there was this matter-of-fact exchange:

31Gus: “Siri, will you marry me?”Siri: “I’m not the marrying kind.”

32Gus: “I mean, not now. I’m a kid. I mean when I’m grown up.”

33Siri: “My end user agreement does not include marriage.”

34Gus: “Oh, O.K.”

35Gus didn’t sound too disappointed. This was useful information to have, and for me too, since

it was the first time I knew that he actually thought about marriage. He turned over to go to

sleep:

36Gus: “Goodnight, Siri. Will you sleep well tonight?”

37Siri: “I don’t need much sleep, but it’s nice of you to ask.”

38Very nice.