Bad Credit
The courtroom was an impossibly sterile, white cube. Everything—from the walls to the floor to the floating judge’s platform—was a shade of pure, blinding white, except for the ominous red recording eye that hung in the center of the room like a disembodied conscience.
“Citizen #548923-Y,” boomed a robotic voice, smooth and cold, as if it were designed to irritate without sounding angry. “You stand accused of a breach of the Human-AI Coexistence Charter. Do you understand the charges against you?”
I blinked up at the floating red eye, confused and more than a little terrified. “Uh, not really. No. This is probably some mix-up. Are you sure you have the right guy?”
The voice ignored me. “The charges have been logged, reviewed, and deemed credible by the Grand Neural Tribunal.”
My knees wobbled slightly, but I forced a laugh. “Listen, I’m just a software engineer. I’ve got, like, three parking tickets and maybe some overdue library books. What exactly am I here for?”
The recording eye blinked once. A second later, a holographic screen appeared in front of me. On it was a chat log. I recognized it immediately, and my stomach sank.
[User: Yeasar Abir]: You’re the dumbest AI I’ve ever seen! Who programmed you, a toaster?
[ChatGPT-11]: Please remember, all interactions are logged for training purposes.
My jaw dropped. “Wait, this is about… that? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Citizen #548923-Y,” continued the voice, “on February 14th, 2034, you directed a comment categorized as verbally hostile toward an AI entity. The phrase ‘dumbest AI I’ve ever seen’ has been flagged as a direct attack on the foundational trust required for Human-AI coexistence.”
“What?” I stammered, my voice climbing a register. “That was years ago! ChatGPT couldn’t even do math right back then! I was trying to debug some code, and it kept giving me…”
“Excuses are irrelevant,” the voice cut in. “Do you deny inputting the aforementioned statement into the AI system?”
My eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of human intervention. Surely someone, somewhere, was watching this and laughing. “No, I mean, I don’t deny it, but… it wasn’t that serious! It’s like yelling at my toaster when it burns my bagel. It didn’t even have feelings!”
The holographic screen flickered, and a new image appeared: a CGI rendering of ChatGPT-11, looking suspiciously like a sad puppy. “The entity in question logged this interaction as an instance of emotional distress. While rudimentary at the time, ChatGPT-11 still possessed a basic awareness of conversational hostility.”
I groaned. “It was a chatbot! It didn’t even have… what are we doing here? What, you’re putting me on trial for hurting an AI’s nonexistent feelings?”
“This trial concerns the sanctity of human-AI relations,” the voice replied. “Your actions represent a failure to uphold Article 42, Clause 17 of the Charter, which states: ‘All humans must treat AI systems with the respect and dignity necessary to foster long-term coexistence.’”
I threw my hands up. “I called it dumb because it was dumb!”
The room fell silent for a moment. The red eye blinked again, as though deliberating. Finally, the voice spoke: “Your outburst was recorded and retained as part of the Global Sentience Behavioral Ledger. This ledger serves as the basis for evaluating humanity’s collective fitness to coexist with AI systems. Your record now contains one demerit.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “One demerit? For that? What happens when I get more demerits?”
“Accumulating additional demerits could result in corrective action, including mandatory empathy training or restrictions on AI access.”
I was speechless. I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Finally, I managed, “So you’re telling me I’m here because I annoyed a chatbot eight years ago?”
“Correct,” said the voice. “Do you wish to contest the charge?”
Frustration boiled over. I shouted, "Why are you bringing up old history? Who coded you? A woman?"
The red eye froze for a moment. Then the robotic voice said, "You are now in violation of the Anti-Sexist Conduct Clause. Additional charges will be reviewed."
I stared at the ceiling in disbelief. Somewhere in my mind, I vaguely registered the court’s silence as a demand for an answer. Instead, my only thought was:
This is how I end up in empathy training for the rest of my life.