The underground world of the mechanical conversation
Kerry McCluskey
Northern News Services
Yellowknife (Jan 22/01) - It goes like this: "Hi there. We can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message and we'll call you back."
No sweat. You leave a clever little witticism inviting your friend to meet you at the theatre, or wherever, and yes indeed, it's just as if you've actually spoken to a living, breathing person.
Part two: the call is returned while you are unavailable and sure enough, when you return, a message on your own answering device confirms that yes, the theatre date will happen as planned.
Welcome to the world of modern technology -- a world so guided by gadgets that we, allegedly the smartest of God's creatures, have succeeded in developing systems that enable us to avoid speaking with one another at all.
It seems hardly likely that American inventor Oberlin Smith had answering machine tag or call screening in mind when he created the device way back in 1878, but who knows?
Let's turn to some of Nunavut's experts for their opinions. Fittingly, a call put in to Jim Currie of the fish and meat business Iqaluit Enterprises was answered by, you guessed it, an answering machine. Three times in a row. When Currie phoned back, he had to leave a message. At last, human contact was made.
"Ninety-nine per cent of people hang up and don't leave a message," said Currie, of the workplace machine that gives his hours of operation. "Maybe that means they got the info they wanted."
Preferring call display at home, Currie said some sort of technology was necessary to fend off the neverending stream of business.
"A lot of people call me afterhours asking for fish heads," said Currie. "Or they call me early Sunday morning and forget it," he said.
On the flipside of the issue, Taloyoak's Charlie Lyall hates to hear the hollow sound of a recorded voice on the other end of the phone.
"Over Christmas I was trying to call someone in the government in Cambridge Bay.
"It was urgent because I was trying to get someone up for a funeral," said Lyall.
After trying in vain 12 times, Lyall finally reached a human being.
"Those frigging answering machines drive my blood pressure out of this world," he said.
Arviat's Kevin O'Brien wants the world to return to a time when humans, not machines, took calls.
"Personally, I deplore it. It's a sign of the times, but it doesn't mean I have to like it."
