By Garry Linnell
To: The Advertising Standards Bureau
From: A concerned citizen
Re: Outrageous falsehood in advertising
Dear Sir,
I wish to lodge a formal complaint about the conduct of Mr Jeff Bezos, the CEO of online giant Amazon. Mr Bezos, as I'm sure you know, has a history of boasting about his innovative approach to business. He claims he will soon deliver groceries to our back doors courtesy of a fleet of drones. He also has ambitions to dominate film production, fashion and the manner in which we humans draw breath.
But I believe we should draw the line at the latest claim emerging from the US – that robots will replace all checkout staff at Whole Foods, the company he recently purchased to further his aspirations to dominate the grocery and food market.
Mr Bezos' supporters claim this will be a world first. Clearly, this is a blatant and outrageous example of false advertising.
Why? Every consumer knows that replacing staff in stores and restaurants with robots began in Australia years ago. Since then, we have fine-tuned this innovation to the point at which no other nation comes close to matching our ability in providing consumers with automated and robotic service. We should be celebrating this achievement, rather than allowing Mr Bezos to steal the limelight from our home-grown talent.
A quick visit to my local shops last weekend provided abundant evidence as to the progress of our customer-facing robotic staff.
At a large fruit and vegetable store I asked an attendant if they had run out of parsley or if there were more supplies in the back room. The slack-jawed, glass-eyed response of "huh?" from the pimply faced young machine – model identified as a Jayden – quickly alerted me that I was dealing with one of the latest form of customer robots designed to fool one into believing this store was providing employment for young teenage boys. But a simple programming error meant this machine did not recognise the herb I required, cared less about whether it was in stock and was more concerned about the text message it had just received from a young female robot saying it was looking forward to their evening examining his hard drive.
At another store I went to a counter staffed by three startlingly human-like creatures and inquired as to whether a jumper I wished to purchase came in blue or grey, rather than the pink salmon or sunflower yellow on display. I stood waiting for several minutes trying to establish eye contact. It finally dawned on me that their visual display scanners do not register human faces when brows are furrowed, skin is rapidly turning to a bright shade of red and expletives are being uttered softly under the breath. Besides, they were engrossed in a data-swapping exercise analysing the benefits of a cherry-flavoured lipstick one had brought to work.
Still, more than enough evidence to show just how developed and world-leading Australian retailers are when it comes to harnessing artificial intelligence.
Should you require additional support for my complaint against Mr Bezos, I can only add that Saturday night's restaurant outing underlined yet again how rapidly this country's customer service has been overhauled by non-human staff.
Since our last visit to this restaurant – a favourite haunt known for its fast service and quality produce – the owner had apparently replaced some waiting staff and at least one of the chefs with a handful of off-the-shelf androids that were still to be fully updated with the latest software.
Our entrees were promptly delivered but then a wait of 50 minutes ensued as these automatons took a wide berth from our table. We presumed a small glitch in their GPS roaming devices was at fault. So four of us pounced and held one down to politely ask when our main courses might be arriving. This apparently innocent inquiry triggered a defensive reaction in this robot. "Five minutes," we were told, quite defiantly and with a very human-like snarl.
More than 15 minutes followed before said dishes finally arrived. Dejected by this treatment – and a lamb dish that was more reminiscent of a rehydrated loin of mammoth unearthed from the Siberian permafrost – we quickly left, only to be admonished by the manager that our complaining was unfounded and there was absolutely nothing wrong with the timing of the meal or the behaviour of said robot.
Once again, Australian customer service at its finest. Once again – as if we needed any reminding – it is the customer who should be begging and pleading to be served. We, after all, are mere humans.
So please, Sir, remonstrate strongly with Mr Bezos. He need only come Down Under if he wants to see robotic customer care at its finest.
Yours etc,
Another human with many faults.
Garry Linnell is co-presenter of The Breakfast Show on Talking Lifestyle