Classic TV vs. Computers

About 30 years ago a book came out entitled War of the Worlds: Global Dispatches. It was a collection of stories by different authors, all of whom took H.G. Wells tale of Earth being attacked by Martian invaders and viewed its events through the eyes of different historic figures: Pablo Picasso paints the Martians, Emily Dickinson writes a poem about them, and the Texas Rangers fight to keep the Lone Star state from falling.

The book illuminated how the same event could be addressed multiple times and still be interesting because of the characters and how they respond to unforeseen circumstances. But to classic TV fans, this is hardly a revelation. Television in the 1960s and 1970s often reflected the shared curiosities and concerns of its viewers, with multiple shows exploring the same issues through characters with differing perspectives.

But if there was one topic on which everyone seemed to agree, it’s that computers cannot be trusted.

We’re going through a similar moment in history now, as experts debate the implications of AI, and whether its capabilities may one day pose a risk to humanity. But in the 1960s and ‘70s technology had just started taking over tasks once handled by humans, and praise for its efficiency was tempered by concerns over ceding too much authority to a machine.

One of the earliest explorations of this issue pops up in one of my favorite episodes of The Donna Reed Show. In “Tony Martin Visits,” singer Tony Martin gets a speeding ticket from a cop with a radar gun, on the same day that Donna gets a ticket for parking too long in a metered spot. Instead of paying a small fine, both insist on a jury trial. “We have too many machines telling us what to do,” Martin asserts. “Why take the word of a machine over a human?” Donna asks. The response – machines don’t make mistakes, but people do.

As the story plays out, it becomes apparent that machines are not always accurate. But the real question is whether they should always be trusted.

“What have you got against machines?” the judge asks Donna. “Would you like to give up your vacuum cleaner, your washing machine?”

“Of course not,” Donna replies. “But they don’t sit in judgment on me.”

Over on The Doris Day Show (“Doris vs. The Computer”), the electric company’s “absolutely infallible” computer refuses to acknowledge that Doris paid her bill and shuts off her power. Company rep Mr. Jarvis, played to such fussy perfection by Billy De Wolfe that he became a semi-regular on the series, personifies the arrogant company man who refuses to take Doris’s claim seriously. At least, until the computer mistakenly sends her a check for more than $200,000.

Three years later, on The Partridge Family (“Forgive Us Our Debts”), Shirley buys a cuckoo clock at Bartlet’s department store for $29, but the bill the computer mails her is for $290. Before the situation is resolved, her credit rating is destroyed, and all her furniture is repossessed. The store manager played by Alan Oppenheimer is almost as fussy as Billy De Wolfe as he proudly proclaims that Bartlet’s has “joined the computer age.”

On both this show and The Doris Day Show, the conflict results in a protest with picket signs reading “People, Yes! – Computers, No!” and “Names, Not Numbers” (shades of The Prisoner!).

These were real concerns – so much so that they were hardly limited to situation comedy nuisances. I’ve written before about “The Invasion of Kevin Ireland,” a 1971 episode of The Bold Ones: The Lawyers, in which a successful executive’s career and family are destroyed by a dossier from “Corporate Research Associates” that inaccurately demeans his character.

The era’s cynicism over computers was also not limited to the present day. Star Trek may have been set in the 23rd century, but Captain Kirk’s apprehension over ceding too much authority to machines was clearly rooted in the 1960s. In “Court Martial” Kirk faces a trial over the death of a crew member, with a computer video log seeming to prove his guilt. His attorney argues that digital records should not be accepted as indisputable:

Attorney: The most devastating witness against my client is not a human being. It’s a machine, an information system. The computer log of the Enterprise. I ask this court adjourn and reconvene aboard that vessel.

Prosecutor: I protest, Your honor!

Cogley: And I repeat, I speak of rights! A machine has none. A man must. My client has the right to face his accuser, and if you do not grant him that right, you have brought us down to the level of the machine! Indeed, you have elevated that machine above us! I ask that my motion be granted.

And in “The Ultimate Computer,” Kirk is reluctant to allow the M-5, a new computer, to make command decisions. Spock agrees – he acknowledges that computers have advantages over humans, but says he has “no desire to serve under them.” But the question is answered when the M-5 hijacks the Enterprise and attacks other Federation vessels.

I wonder if the M-5 knew HAL 9000?

Were the fears expressed in the 1960s and ‘70s unfounded? How often has a computer ordered you to “prove that you are human” before granting access to online content? Maybe the machines have already won. That’s why, when I have a cash deposit to make at the bank, I still take it to a human teller. If I deposited $500 at an ATM, and the machine says I only put in $400, who is the bank going to believe?

Am I being paranoid? Maybe – or maybe I just watch too many old TV shows.