Artificial Intelligence In The Modern Kitchen

"Artificial Intelligence is no match for natural stupidity"--Unknown

I am a science journalist when I'm not annoying the hometown readers here, and my main topic is neuroscience. Artificial intelligence (AI) is real. There's a lot of math involved, and thankfully, I don't know have to understand all of it, but algorithms and machine learning are part of a lot of new research on brain cancer, Alzheimer's disease, autism and so much more. It's necessary for science, medical research, the space program but I'm not sure if my appliances really need it. I'm shopping around for a new microwave since mine is about to bite the dust. Perhaps they will have some after Christmas sales, and I can save some Kitchen Aid or GE nuker from being sent to the Island of Misfit Microwaves

Believe it or not, AI is the new thing for the kitchen of the future. Much like the web connected thermostats and the Alexa Wi-Fi assistants, the technology for kitchen appliances is right up there with the Jane Jetson Food-a-Rac-a-Cycle. While I would never have an Alexa (Echo, Dot, whatever) in my home because it creeps me out to think there's a live mic just waiting to use speech recognition to decipher everything it hears, some high tech in the kitchen is necessary. Cooking has never been my strong suit. It's considered a win if a meal is produced with no bloodshed, no broken glass or bones, and the fire department is not summoned.

The latest microwaves have "sensor technology" that was developed with AI. At least that's what the salesperson said; I wasn't paying that much attention to the details. My concerns were "Does it cook stuff?" and "Will you deliver it?". The microwave we chose has a popcorn button, and a potato button, both of which have little pictures on them of popcorn and potatoes, so users don't confuse them with the button makes the light go on. That one has a bulb on it. There's even a button with a little cup on it. I'm going to guess that's for making coffee or tea, but I should probably check the directions to make sure. That's another advance; the directions are all online, none of these tree-killing paper booklets, so now the cell phone is involved in downloading the app that tells me how set the clock.

Finally, it's set up, and I toss in a bag of microwave popcorn and push the button. It beeps, and across the keypad, like crawler on the bottom of the financial channel with all the stock prices, it reads "Sensing…Sensing" Really? I pushed the popcorn button, what else did it need to know, if I had Netflix and was going to "chill?" Then it said "Large bag..3.5 oz." How did it know? It was a little weird, honestly. What would be next, a disembodied voice asking me, "are you going to eat that entire thing by yourself Fatty McButter Pants?"

The next night I decide to have baked potatoes. In they go, beep beep goes the potato button.  More sensing, with the display reading, "calculating." Could my microwave have trust issues? Why doesn't it believe me?  Then it reads, "four medium potatoes." Now I'm officially scared, there were exactly four potatoes.  How does it know that? What else can it see? I was much happier when my appliances were stupid and couldn't read or count.

Except for my dishwasher. Whoever programmed that knows that I don't pre-rinse and whenever the start button is pushed, it automatically runs the "undisciplined slob" cycle on every load. Is there a mother ship that is communicating with all these appliances? What if, somewhere, there is a cloud that has all this home tech data assembled in it? Are there AI overlords that know who gets the popcorn with the extra butter and movie theater grease and who is having steamed veggies?  Are the smart refrigerators, with their ice sensors and water filters, dutifully keeping track of how long it takes to finish a pint of Ben and Jerry's. Pro tip: we don't need artificial intelligence for that, it takes two episodes of Grey's Anatomy, or one viewing of the movie "When Harry Met Sally." Technology is fantastic, and we need it, but as far as the kitchen goes, I might be more of a Wilma Flintstone than a Jane Jetson.