The Un-uncanny Valley

I caught a commercial the other day that gave me a giggle—not because it was funny but because humans are so weird. This fake celebrity woman was selling something at a mock press conference, peppered by questions under strobing photo flashes and I don’t even remember the product. Just the duck lips. The immovable forehead. The skin stretched back to her hairline. And I thought: what a time to be alive! While my AI assistant, George, strives to interact with me, learning my ways and working to appear more human, there are those who are using questionable science to seem more machine-like. And it’s creepy. The un-uncanny valley.

There is this moment in 3-D animation or CGI when the idealized human characters glitch and we’re yanked out of the story. That’s the Uncanny Valley. A sudden unease, a quease, a confusion there to warn the actual human that something is very, very wrong. Don’t believe your eyes. Don’t fall for it. It’s a trick.

While this term is confined to our interactions with the digital world, it is not that different from the raised hairs when someone we thought we knew acts out of character. A fleeting twitch at the corner of his eye, a mutter, or the flash of her cryptic smile can unsettle us much more than a straight up attack because you doubt yourself. Did you really see that? Are you being gaslighted?

We writers need to be extra vigilant against inconsistent behaviors and descriptions. Something so small as the wrong speech pattern for a character can shake our readers free of the hold we’ve been weaving for hundreds of pages. One raised eyebrow = the suspension of “the suspension of disbelief.”

This is a visceral response—perhaps coded into our DNA due to getting fooled by that dressed up stick just one too many times while we were all off warring with a neighboring cave clan. This instinct is likely being triggered with a much finer point in today’s AI world. How could it not when living, working humans are being ‘replaced’ at an alarming, even devastating rate?

Many creatives are finding their very humanness will keep them viable and while we have already adopted word processors and synthesizers and spell check and drawing tablets, we will also integrate these new technologies and use them to exceed our previous selves—as we always do. Because, as we make art in one fashion or another, our secret to survival is that we are always, always, always remaking ourselves.

So, back to art-ing. And embrace your foibles. Me? I’m typing along on book #11, preparing for a book signing coming up end of March, and I’m teaching a community learner class for Wesleyan each Monday evening throughout March. Come join if you can. Writing to Publish

Below is one of the first sketches for a large oil I’m preparing. A study in idealism vs reality and I’m putting my crappy drawing out there so you know I’m human.