Catch 22 in the Digital Age
Please verify you’re you
I, for one, am anxious for AI to have a greater impact on our lives. There are certain jobs that need immediate, desperate help. The first that I have in mind is for AI to replace the numbskulls who write product manuals or instructions for using technology. The second is to replace every bureaucrat.
Exhibit A. Yesterday I misplaced my phone. I searched the house, my gym bag, and the car. I used my wife’s phone to call, hoping the ring had not been turned down. Silence. With panic rising, as my recent life is stored on that phone, I returned to the fitness center where I had spent a few hours. Nothing at the front desk, or in the men’s shower lockers. I began mourning the loss of a few thousand photographs that I had not backed up to the cloud or anywhere else.
Back home, I decided on one last desperate ploy. I went to the website of the phone company, and one page said, “Click here if you have lost your phone or if it’s stolen. We will help you find your phone.” I clicked. “Please enter the telephone number of your account.” I did. The next screen is the genesis of this rant. The screen said, “We have sent a code to your phone to verify that it is you.”
Think about it for a fraction of a second. This was the help screen to find my phone by sending a text to the lost phone. This is a prime example of Catch-22, but similar cases are everywhere.
For those who don’t recall the brilliant novel Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, the basic premise revolves around a rule that says a pilot who is insane can be grounded, but anyone who asks to be grounded is clearly sane enough to keep flying. In other words: The proof that you need help is treated as proof that you don’t. The other memorable phrase in the book was, “He can’t see that he has flies in his eyes because he has flies in his eyes.” The phone company’s response is a perfect modern version: “To recover your lost phone, we’ll send a verification code to your lost phone.”
You have probably seen similar instructions such as;
“To get a permit, bring proof you’re allowed here.”
“You need a login to reset your password.”
“Apply in person. No entry without an ID.”
“Upload the signed form to request the signed form.”
“To access customer support, log in to your account.”
“If you can’t read this sign, ask for instructions.”
“To get the job, you need experience. To get experience, you need the job.”
“To open this door, use your key card.” “To get a replacement key card, show your key card”
And then there are the bureaucratic loops and hoops.
To open a bank account, you need proof of address; to get proof of address, you often need an account or utility bill first. A job requires prior experience, but the only way to get that experience is to get hired. You need credit history to qualify for credit, but you need credit to build credit history. You need documentation of hardship to qualify for aid, but getting the documentation costs money you don’t have.
Exhibit B
We had been told that getting a driver’s license is not a trivial affair. We were well prepared and determined to devote an entire day to accomplish this task. Both times we tried, we failed miserably. Should you get lost at any point in this narrative, don’t fret. It’s part of the game. First, we raided our safe deposit box and collected all our most precious original documents - birth certificates, naturalization papers, marriage license, current and past passports, current Washington State license, old canceled Texas driving license, Social Security cards, invoice from our energy company, and condo closing statement emblazoned with official US logos (these latter are required to prove residency in Texas).
We arrived bright-eyed at the Public Safety Building, signed in electronically, and went to fill out the paperwork. I filled out the renewal form, since that is what I was doing - merely renewing a license I once held.
Within minutes, my cell phone number was announced over the paging system, accompanied by a text message on my phone that Station 16 would be happy to help me. With a broad smile, I presented my documents. With a bored sigh, he said, “Mister, you are in the wrong line. You have to fill out a completely different application because you have been out of state.” Back to the desk to track down the correct form. Half an hour later, my number reached the front of the line. “Not sufficient,” I was told, “you have to have two different documents to prove your residency. The best would be a Texas vehicle registration. There is an office that handles that just over yonder - (an old English term meaning about 10 miles.) But remember you must have your vehicle inspected first at any State Inspection station.” This was all very helpful advice.
We trundled off in the general direction of the Vehicle Registration Building and found a car repair shop with a ‘State Inspection Done Here’ sign in the window. “Can’t do it,” we were told. “You have to have Texas insurance before we can inspect your car.” “But we can’t get insurance until the car is registered in Texas,” I whined. “Sorry, it’s all we can do.” As we headed home, Vivien called the insurance company and managed to change the policy. An hour later, we received an email with our new insurance cards.
I carefully reread the instructions. They required two documents proving our residency. I decided on at least four, including the USPS notification of our change of address; our recently acquired insurance cards, still hot off the printer; homeowner’s insurance with our new address; and bills mailed to us with our correct name and address. Buoyed with hope and confidence, we headed back to the licensing office. The waiting room had filled substantially, but they kindly put us back near the front of the line.
When called, I approached the desk with a confident swagger. I handed over the sheaf of documents, cards, and forms, all carefully filled out, a check at the ready, and my few hairs neatly combed for the expected photograph. The clerk gave me a kind smile, and my hopes soared. “All these seem in order,” she said, “except where is your vehicle registration?” “But I thought the instructions said that you only need two documents for proof of residency.” “Yes,” she said, “but if you own a car, its Texas registration is required in addition to everything else.”
Vivien was getting a similar story, along with a couple of other affidavits and forms that had to be filled out, none of which anyone had bothered to tell us about. She was still clutching our original marriage certificate and other critical papers, as it is harder for a woman to prove who she is in Texas. Ancestry DNA may be an option in time.
We reconnected in the lobby, both of us in that borderland between tears and hilarity. It was past noon, and we had embarked on this venture just after sunrise. “To hell with this,” we said, “let’s come back in a week or two. To help future Texas drivers, I have listed the steps you MUST follow to avoid the bureaucratic labyrinth. Texas Public Safety may wish to post this on their website, but we have copyright on the list and expect royalties.
Steps to get a Texas driver’s license
Get to Texas as fast as you can.
Change your vehicle insurance to Texas - this may cost more or less depending on where you come from. Expect a price shock.
Get your vehicle inspected - any place will do.
Register your vehicle in Texas.
Make an appointment at the local Driver’s License office
Take the following documents (you may not need all, but it can’t hurt) - Texas concealed handgun permit (a certain way to get approval) - birth and death certificate, marriage/divorce certificate, parole records, military discharge papers (if honorable), house title, passport and birth certificate, Soc. Sec. card, pet vaccination records, tax records for the last millennium, your Will and Last Testament, adoption records and anything else that might prove useful.
Pray.
Pray for equanimity and serenity.
Give thanks to the deity of your choice.
Move to New Zealand.
I also went through the horrendous process of becoming a Texas licensed driver when we moved here three years ago bringing in our two Washington plated vehicles. Our Yossarian moment occurred when we took all the required paperwork including a photo copy of our Form 1099 from Social Security. We made an appointment to drive the 35 miles from our home to Killeen, Texas because we could get an appointment there three weeks sooner than locally. Things went well until the photo copy was discovered. We were turned away as a photo copy was not acceptable. “What would you do had I brought an original?” Scan it was the reply.
“ no one looking at a digital copy could tell whether it was from the original or a copy of the original”. “Maybe so, but I’d know.” was the reply, “so you’ll have to come back with the original”. Which, of course,was sitting on my accountant’s desk in Washington State 2200 miles away. Six short weeks later, we had the original and finally after a process lasting almost 4 months had our Texas drivers licenses.
So true, and you can imagine how hard it is going to be devote, especially for women, in upcoming election elections here!
As far as the lost phone : Do you use the Find My function on Vivien’s phone? If you’re signed up for Find My (in settings.) you can put people in it and her phone would assume that you are where it is (usually within 10 fit of me when I thought I lost it). Which is great as long as you don’t mind the other person being able to track your every step! I get in trouble at times for not being home early enough to let the dogs out, but otherwise it’s really helpful.