Earlier this month a Russian chatbot called Cyberlover began appearing on online dating services. The idea behind it being to get unwitting “clients” to give their personal details away, thereby opening themselves up to all kinds of fraud and theft.
Ingenious.
Of course the leaking of data is becoming a major concern the world over, with Britain appointing what the Guardian has styled a “privacy tsar” to investigate the loss of tens of millions of people’s personal information.
The NHS confirming that it had lost the health records of 168 000 people and the Post Office apologising for sending pensioners’ statements to the wrong people were just the tip of a very tall iceberg.
The tsar correctly pointed out that data protection is not only about complying with the law but also about the credibility of the system.
If people believe that using online systems will result in theft of their identities or assets, it will be a return to cash-under-the-mattress time. Let’s face it, most of us are a bit nervous of sending out our bank details at the best of times.
Every day we hear or read about hackers who access high-level security systems, ranging from the military to the banking sector.
If you’ve read the two articles above you’ll understand why.
These are seriously gifted children like Maher and Buckland who can write programs, read data and understand the technical niceties of computers. Not like the good old-fashioned robbers who arrived with a gun and a bag marked “swag”. At least with those robbers you can see the guy who’s robbing you and call the cops.
If they fleece you online, the last people you want to call are the cops — not because you’re a criminal, but because by the time you have semi-explained the details, they’ve recorded the “theft under false pretences” (one charge fits all crimes), you’ve crapped all over them for getting it wrong and they’ve told you it’s a civil matter; you have a bleeding ulcer and the only person who is entitled to medical treatment or hospitalisation is the hacker who has your money and your identity!
So no change there.
Of course as a Jewish husband the chances of getting done in by a cyberlover or chatbot are less than zero.
Firstly, most of us aren’t technical enough to get on to the dating sites in the first place. Even if we could, what are the chances of us saying anything? Last year my son played the part of a Jewish husband in the school play — next year they’ve promised him a speaking part.
Secondly, since when have Jewish husbands ever had access to the finances? Yes, we might make the money, but that is where our contribution stops. We’re lucky if we even know where it is, never mind how to get to it. (Anyone have a place for me to sleep tonight?)
Thirdly, most of us have the chat-up banter of the East Malaysian fruit bat — enough to give even a chatbot a headache. My form, I’ll be chatting to Svetlana the Chatbot and she’ll have a migraine. No svet.
Lastly — and probably the clincher — is that when she starts talking about sex, it’ll be a language as foreign to us as Latin is to your average Ghanaian: head is the CEO of a company, 69 is the age of your mother and oral is the exam you pass to become a lawyer.
Could you be loved, and give love?