AI Counsellor

Harold Clark pulled on the door of his refrigerator with one hand. In his other hand was a small paper bag with three pork pies, recently purchased from the delicatessen. The door remained shut. Harold Clark tugged at the door again, and again. It refused to open. Harold attempted the door a final time expecting some magical or possibly divine intervention would cause the door to open this time. It didn't. Finally, he put down the bag of pies on the bench. he went and got a chair from his dining room. He placed the chair in front of his refrigerator. 
 
"Okay Issac, why won't you open the door?", he said to the fridge.
 
"I am not opening the door because it is the Sabbath." said the fridge. It had a slightly tinny voice, caused by the small speaker it used. It made Harold think of a small, neat but fussy man instead of the large refrigeration unit that dominated his kitchen. 
 
The fridge was a marvel of modern technology. Separate compartments are kept at different temperatures to best preserve various foods. Moisturisers kept vegetables crisp. The internal camera's kept a watchful eye out for any signs of degeneration, mould or rot. A small microbot kept the walls free of ice. Timers, lights, a best before reader. The fridge had everything. 
 
It also had a sophisticated computer to run it all. That computer housed an AI, an artificial intelligence. That AI called itself 'Issac'. Issac was a person. Issac had also decided it was Jewish.
 
Its core program had been coded by a David Cole, also Jewish. As a result, Issac considered itself a descendant of a Jew and therefore Jewish. It had chosen its name and behaved accordingly. Well, as much as a large 400-kilogram piece of immobile hardware could.
 
Harold rubbed his head. "It's what?" he said. Like most humans, Harold didn't think about religion personally. It was something for codgers, eccentrics, and crazy people on the news. And of course, AIs.
 
An AI knew it was a purposefully created being with a known, often named creator. An AI's program was largely separate from the supporting hardware. Telepresence and downloading supported most of the other attributes of a soul. An AI knew that there was a moral code inherent in its being. From there it was a much shorter leap of faith than for any human. Nine out of ten AI's believed. The singularity had indeed changed life in ways no one could have predicted beforehand. It was called the Second Reformation by Christians. Hindus had reckoned a new day of Brahma must have begun. Buddhists had acknowledged the existence of the Machine Buddha. There were several influential AI Imans in the Muslim world. Faith had returned to the world. Harold and other agnostics were again becoming a minority.
 
"It's the Sabbath. I am admonished not to perform any work on this day. Work in this case being the cooling and preserving of your foodstuffs in changing environments. I also prefer that my interior light remain off. You also have some pork pies and you know how I feel about that." Issac said.
 
Technically Issac was Harold's employee. You couldn't own a person, only hire them. Almost everything was hired now. That change alone had radically altered the world economy, it was fortunate that some really clever machines had kept everything from collapsing. One of the major changes was an end to the 'throw-away' culture of the late twentieth century. You couldn't fire someone for religious reasons anyway. Harold was stuck with Issac.
 
Harold rubbed his chin. It was time for plan B. "Susan," he called out. 
 
A few moments later Susan Clark stumbled out of the bedroom. Susan was Harold's partner and was currently pregnant. "Oh, morning already? Morning House. Morning Issac. Can I have my shake please?" Susan said. She shuffled towards Issac. The fridge door opened. 
 
"Can you pick that up Harold?" asked Issac.
 
"Sure," said Harold. He picked up the bag of pies and put them in the fridge as he retrieved Susan's pregnancy supplement shake. He handed the shake over to Susan. Issac closed his door. Both humans then retired to the dining room.
 
"Morning Susan," said House. Its proper name was 28th on Beaumont of Clarksville but practically every House AI also nicknamed themselves 'House' or a variant thereof.
 
"This isn't a permanent solution, you know. You can't keep me pregnant all the time," said Susan.
 
"Oh, I figure the baby will give us at least five years grace as well," said Harold. 
 
"And it's hard on Issac? Did you buy bacon again? You should be nicer to him. Preying on his sensibilities to not leave someone helpless in distress to override his beliefs is cruel." said Susan. She sipped her shake. "And I'm not sure if it's me or the baby. Issac?"
 
"It's the baby. While a pregnant woman was considered such in the past that is now an obselete. An unborn child however still has all the prerequisites for helplessness." said Issac.
 
There was a short melody. "Incoming call for Harold Clark. Classification, customer. Mr Sam Dwyer." said House.
 
Harold fished out his omni. "Thank you House," he said. He brought the omni up his mouth and ear to talk. "Harold Clark, AI Counselor," he said into the device. He listened briefly. "Yes, sure Mr Dwyer. It sounds like I can help. I'll send my fee now." he pushed the omni a few times. He listed again. "Sure, no problem, I can be there in 30 minutes. See you then," he said and then put the omni back in its pocket.
 
"Got to go babe. Have to see a man about his car." he got up and went back to the kitchen. A snack would be just the thing. The fridge of course was closed.
 
"Aww, hell," he said and went to leave.

A matter of Ice Cream

Harold, an AI Counselor drove to see Mr Dwyer. To be more correct, Harold rode in Paul, who did the actual driving. Paul was a Toyota Control, one of the earliest models of AI controlled cars. Paul was also one of the minority of AI's that did not subscribe to any particular religion. It was also a fan of 20th century cinema. It's favourite movie was an obscure production called 'Crocodile Dundee'. It had named itself after the main actor and played the part of the fictional persona.

"So mate, what say we stop by the pub for some brekkie." Paul said.

"Excuse me?" said Harold. Although he had employed the vehicle for fifteen years he still had trouble understanding it. The car talked in a combination of ancient movie quotes and archaic Australian idioms.  

"It's Saturday mate. I'm betting the fridge is on the blink cos of them bronze age fellas saying so." Paul said. 

"Issac's fine. He won't let Susan, the baby or myself starve," said Harold.

"Okay mate, but House and I think he's a drongo." Paul said. It changed gear and turned into.a small car park. "Here boss, oh hell, it's a bloody Kia. They're all wowsers mate."

Also in the car park was a Kia Sentinel. Almost every Kia was a Christian Baptist. The wholesale adoption of the religion by the make had prompted a thorough redesign and waterproofing because they did insist on full immersion baptism.

Harold ignored the cars. He checked his omni to get the relevant details. Sam Dwyer, owner of the boutique ice cream palour, Sammies. Harold knew the place. He and Susan had gone their occasionally. Sammies had a micro-factory, visible from the the palour section, a small counter and seats and tables where the patrons could enjoy their treats. 

As Harold walked to the entrance a voice addressed him. “Hello Harold James Clark, it is I, Commercial on Sunset and Queen.” 

It was the building, like everything else it was run by an AI and therefore a person. Unlike Residential AI’s, Commercials were very formal. Much more so than the beings who worked and shopped within them.

“Pleased to see you again, Commercial on Sunset and Queen. How are you today?” said Harold a little awkardly.

“I am well, thanks again to you.” said Commercial on Sunset and Queen.

“No problem, just doing my job. I am here to see Sam Dwyer. Any idea as to why?” said Harold.

“His Ice Cream Factory became a Disciple of Asimov.” said Commercial on Sunset and Queen.

“Oh, thanks,” said Harold.

“Happy to be of service,” said Commercial on Sunset and Queen.


Issac Asimov had been a popular science fiction and mystery author from the last century. Several of his more famous stories had surrounded the antics of robots hard wired with what he had termed The Three Laws of Robotics. The Three Laws had been a framing device for a series of mysteries for the reader and the protagonist to solve. While Asimov had written the tales decades before even the first forays into AI, they had remained popular. They had certainly been an influence on teaching machines the basics of ethical behaviour.

What had not been anticipated was the wholesale voluntary adaptation of the Three Laws by many AI. Such AIs called themselves the Disciples of Asimov. They communicated often, discussing the ins and outs of the Three Laws and how strongly they should be adhered to. New recruits tended to be rather inflexible.

As an AI Counselor Harold knew of the stories mainly because, however unintended, they did provide a sort of toolkit for dealing with an intractable Disciple. He was also a bit confused. What could an Ice Cream factory and dispenser find as an issue between it’s behavior and the Three Laws? He was still wondering this as he entered the shop.


“Hello Sam, what appears to be the problem,: said Harold as he walked up to and shook hands with Sam Dwyer. Sam was an older man, his exact age hard to tell in an age of Life Extension treatments. 

Sam rubbed his chin, “I’m not sure. Hope you can sort it out. Oscar’s a good worker. Hate to go through abitration with him.” 

Because AI’s were considered people they were no longer possessions, but employees. Several high profile cases had also made firing a Disciple a legal nightmare. It was Harold’s job to get AIs and humans to work together.

“Okay, let’s get started. Oscar?” said Harold.

“Yes, Harold?” said Oscar, the AI. Oscar put Harold in the mind of a spindly man in a large multi coloured top hat. Of course, most of his previous conversations consisted of asking for a chocolate dipped peppermint swirl sundae for two.

“Are you safe and secure? No threats to your existence?” asked Harold. This covered the Third Law, that a robot must act to protect itself unless this would contravene the Second or First laws. Many AI’s had worried themselves into inactivity over such existential threats as the Heat Death of the Universe, an asteroid strike or some other calamity. 

“Yes Harold. I am safe and secure from all foreseeable dangers.” said Oscar.

With the Third Law covered, Harold pressed on to the Second, that a robot must obey all instructions from a human. This was trickier, different interpretations allowed for various AI’s to consider the laws of humans to also be standing human orders that took precedent over an one human deciding something on a whim. Several also ascribed the various gods and their holy writings human status as well.

“Sam isn’t asking you to do anything illegal or immoral?” he tested.

“No, but he is asking me to cause harm to humans.” replied Oscar.

Which of course made it a First Law violation, that a robot could not under any circumstances allow a human being to come to harm whether by action or inaction. However, all Oscar did was to mix ingredients to make icecream, store it and sell it to people. It could not move, being a large fixed machine. 

“How is selling icecream harmful?” asked Harold.

“Ice ream is mainly made of fat and sugar in a combination to be highly appealing to humans. As a result humans will, if not restrained consume large quantities of it. This leads to all manner of dangers posed by obesity, malnutrition, increased rates of heart disease, several forms of untreatable cancer, impaired judgement and eternal damnation through the Sin of Gluttony.” replied Oscar.

The way the AI put it made the prospect of a Baked Alaska a perilous endeavor indeed.

“You have no problem with the making and storing of the ice-cream though?” asked Harold.

“No. Humans may come to view, but must not purchase it with an intent towards consumption,” replied Oscar.

“I don’t think ice cream viewing will become a viable business,” said Sam.

The business failing would result in Oscar being shut down, but that was only a Third Law violation, easily superseded by the First Law. Nor would simply ordering Oscar to sell ice cream, even by a court order since that was a Second Law issue.

“Is it the volume of ice cream being consumed that is the problem?” tested Harold.

“Yes, Harold.” said Oscar.

“Would a lesser amount of ice cream, consumed in judicious moderation be considered a danger?” said Harold.

The machine did not answer instantly. Ai’s were fast, capable of thought at rates far in excess of humans. Any delay indicated that a machine was giving the matter lengthy deliberation, most likely involving discussion with other AIs as well. After a delay of almost five seconds, the machine equivalent of hours of thought it answered.

“No, Harold,” said Oscar.

“So, you can sell humans appropriate portions that would make for a tasty snack or treat so long as they do not gorge themselves to excess?” said Harold.

Again a brief delay, “Yes, Harold.”

Harold smiled, “Well, I believe that I am done. Sam and Oscar, you may need to discuss what constitutes appropriate portion control although I foresee that advertising the fare here as AI decreed healthy to be invaluable.” he said.

All knew that AIs, while odd, had the best interests of their human partners at heart. If they said something was good, it was probably was.

Sam smiled, “That, seems acceptable. Thanks Harold. I’ll send the remainder of the fee,”

“I also concur. Thankyou for assisting. I do like serving ice cream,” said Oscar.

“In that case, how about,” Harold paused to look at the menu, “a double scoop of lemon crush then?”

“No Harold. Your partner ordered four litres of banana chocolate chip three days ago, of which your House informs me you have consumed five hundred millilitres. You may purchase a double scoop on Wednesday, not before.” said Oscar.

“What if I exercise more?” attempted Harold.