Opting Out
This story is one of four in a series written as a projection of a world in which collecting emotion data is commonplace — or mandatory — and the disregard of the golden rules of designing for emotion.
February 18, 2016
6.59am
She woke to the jingle on the bedside table. She blindly patted around for her phone, yanked out the charging cable and brought the phone under the comforter.
Good morning!
The text animated onto the screen.
Would you like the forecast for today?
She closed her eyes briefly, as if thinking a short prayer.
No…but yes, she thought, and tapped “Forecast” on the screen.
A new screen slide up and numbers rolled into view.
Her tired eyes focused and she let out a sigh. Another day of mild anxiety. High probability of pensiveness and latent hopelessness.
Perfect. She let her phone drop onto a weeks-old pile of clothes on the floor and reached back over to the bedside table for the orange bottle.
She popped open the lid and then stopped. She waited and tried to hear if there was any dog barks, school buses, kids or any other proof the world would wake up today. Nope, nothing. Today like every other day, like every other week.
She shook out a oval light green pill from the bottle and dry swallowed it. She was beginning to think that now, there wouldn’t be so many days actually worth experiencing. When exactly was the last time she was awake? She couldn’t remember. She knew others stayed awake to protest and to fight. She knew that some people were searching for hope or a silver lining. But she was too tired for that.
I only ever want to be there for the good, she thought. That’s why I bought this fucking thing.
Anyway, maybe there would be a turn around. Maybe even tomorrow. She’d get up for that.
Her eyes drooped shut again and she drifted off into another hazy induced sleep. An hour later the alarm clock went off except this time she didn’t wake up.
-
394 days earlier
“And once you’ve entered a year’s worth of data, you’ll be able to access the forecasting feature. This will allow you to see what you’ll likely be feeling and experiencing that day. It works just like a weather app! We use a sophisticated algorithm to empower you — to give you the choice whether or not you want to experience the emotions of the day.”
Sounds like a pretty good tool, she thought. And it was only an additional 9.99 with the purchase of her new phone.
“It sounds great, but how often do I have to track?” she asked the sales assistant, “Because that’s pretty personal stuff, you know, emotions..”
“I totally understand your hesitation, miss, but in order for the application to give you to the most accurate forecast for your day, you should be entering in as many of your emotion experiences as possible. The more transparent and detailed you are, the more the application will be able to assist you,” he sounded a touch too well rehearsed.
“And anyway, we encrypt all of your data, so you won’t have to worry about anything there. We take your privacy seriously, miss.”
She looked down at the animations flashing across the screen on the display phone.
Rise and shine! Looks like another good day is shaping up for you!
She thought for a minute.
“What the heck, I’ll take it.”
“Great!” He finished her transaction at the register and handed her the phone and a small box.
“Here ya go, miss. And this here you can open after you unlock the forecasting feature,” he said, pointing to the box.
“Thanks,” She drove home, dropped the small box in the drawer of her bedside table and promptly forgot about it.
-
At first, remembering to enter her data every single night before bed was difficult. But the app has an option for setting reminders, so after a while, she practically heard the jingle before it even jingled.
Whoever designed that fancy little sound is a genius, she thought. It’s like a ringtone from a friend, who’s about to ask me how I’m doing. In fact, it calls me more than my friend actually do! She laughed, a bit forcibly, at the irony.
-
She was just a week short of using the application for year. She surprised herself at how much she was looking forward to — counting down to — when the forecasting would be unlocked. She’d learned so much already. She felt as though she had become a better her in the last year, a sharper more expressive and eloquent version of original self. But there were still many experiences she would have wished to avoid. There had been days in which going through her emotions had been valuable, but also many others she felt as though she could have slept through and been better off.
That’ll definitely be the biggest perk, she thought. More sleep.
-
November 1, 2016
On that first morning, she woke up before the jingle. She was awake for a good 20 minutes, the swirl of excitement churning around in her stomach. The jingle jingled and she snapped her phone off the bedside table.
Yeehaw!
The letters danced across the screen one at a time.
You’ve unlocked the forecasting feature, wanna try it out?
She tapped “Yes” before she’d finished reading the question.
Good news! Today you’re right on track for the most intense happiness!
She smiled to herself. Now that really is good news, she thought, because I’ve got a really important client meeting this afternoon.
She was wide awake and ready to start the day. Might as well sneak in a quick run before I head to work, she thought. Why not? Today was sure to be a good day.
-
November 9, 2016
It was eight days before the first bad forecast came.
Her phone jingled and she tried to focus her eyes as the letters appeared on the screen. They didn’t dance or bounce this time.
Today’s not looking so good.
The words slowly dissolved in and then faded away.
Allow me to be so bold as to propose you sit this one out.
She squinted disapprovingly at what seemed like a pretty harsh suggestion from an algorithm. Even a sophisticated one.
Another button faded onto the screen. “See how we forecasted for today” it read. She tapped it.
Her eyes skimmed across the text on the screen.
Today will be a day that proves that nothing is impossible. Today will be a vindication of prejudice as a national foundation and a signal of severe global instability to come…
The text went on, advising that she refrain from checking any of her social profiles or turning on the television. It was a few minutes before she realized what day it was — it was the day after election day.
No. she thought. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t believe it.
She got out of bed, pulled on a sweatshirt and went downstairs. She went to the front door, unlocked it and stepped onto the front porch. On any other morning she would see people from the neighborhood walking their dogs or the 7.05 school bus rumbling past her driveway — but this morning there was nothing. The curtains in every window on her block were drawn and even the pine trees that stood in every yard seemed to droop with their own grief.
Everything was silent. She closed her eyes and stood on her porch for a few minutes until she heard something. She opened her eyes and saw her neighbor was standing on the porch next door.
“Wilful ignorance,” she said after a few minutes.
“What?”
“That’s how this happened, wilful ignorance, that’s the only way this could have happened.” her neighbor continued.
She nodded.
“Why are you awake anyway? Didn’t you see the Hopelessness forecasted for today?”
“Yeah, I saw.” she started. “But, what else do I do? I have to go to work anyway.”
“Oh I doubt anyone will be at work today,” her neighbor said. “Everyone will surely sleep through it, maybe even through next week. The only reason I’m awake is because I forgot to get my pills refilled. And I sure wasn’t expecting this to happen. Speaking of, do you have any more?”
“What?”
“Any more pills, of course. Or haven’t you had to use yours since you’ve been forecasting?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She shook her head and laughed, “that box they give you, when you buy the application, it’s full of pills and a prescription. The pills are similar to sleeping pills but they give you the most wonderful dreams. Of course they don’t taste so nice, but they’re perfectly dosed so that you only wake up again for the next jingle.”
“Oh.” she said softly.
They stood and watched the quiet street for a few more minutes.
“I guess I’d better go back inside.”
“Good luck,” her neighbor said.
She closed the door softly and hurried up the stairs. She slid open the drawer of her bedside table and felt around for the small box. She brought the box close to her face, there was nothing written on it. She peeled open one of the cardboard flaps and inside was a small orange bottle with a piece of paper rolled around it.
She unrolled the paper and studied the orange bottle. It had a few dozen small light green pills inside, but no label. She looked at the piece of paper.
Congratulations on finishing your first year! You now have the opportunity to use the forecasting feature in the app. As promised, we give you now a choice whether you would like to experience the upcoming day. These pills were exclusively created for use with the application. Should you choose to avoid any unwanted emotion experiences, take a pill within the first hour of your forecast.
She flipped over the paper looking for what the pills were made of, but there was nothing else printed. She normally doesn’t take anything she hasn’t read up on, but her neighbor was still alive. And so was everyone else she knew who used the app.
She thought again about the quiet streets outside and a fog of sadness began to come over her. She remained a few minutes in a spiral of thoughts about the rippling catastrophe that would begin when the world chose to awaken. Whether that would be today or tomorrow or in four years, she didn’t want to think about it. She just wanted to go back to sleep.
She popped open the top of the orange bottle, took out a pill and turned it around in between her thumb and forefinger.
Well, she half thought and half whispered and pushed the pill to the back of her throat. She swallowed it and slipped back into bed. She was asleep in less than a minute.
