I'm from Microsoft and I'm here to help

I was asked for a quick comment by the Breakfast Show on Newstalk 106 regarding the Microsoft patent application for a hardware and software employee monitoring system.

Wireless sensors could read "heart rate, galvanic skin response, EMG, brain signals, respiration rate, body temperature, movement facial movements, facial expressions and blood pressure," the patent application states.

Galvanic skin response? Isn't that what they use on polygraph tests? Ho yus, I can see that this is just the sort of thing everyone wants their boss knowing about them! And, as a bonus, running on a 100% reliable Microsoft operating system! [So what happens if you get the blue screen of death? Does the computer in HR decide that you are deceased and send flowers to your spouse? Remember what happened in Catch 22 when the Army bureaucracy decided that Doc Daneeka had been killed? I understand that computers are even more binary about this sort of thing ...]

A couple of things immediately occurred to me as I read the piece in the London Times on this:
1. The Google-are-spying-on-everything-you-do brigade must be having great fun with this.

2. I can envisage the private sector wanting to use this sort of monitoring, but reluctantly having to let it go, as they wouldn't be able to attract any sane person to come and work for them if they required it of all employees.

3. Yes, it does have wonderful possibilities in terms of wifi monitoring of elderly people living alone; but unless we have true blanket coverage with that wifi, isn't the system going to send out klaxon alarms every time my mother steps out of the house to bring in the laundry?

4. Neal Stephenson certainly was on the money when he predicted pretty much exactly this in his wonderful Snow Crash. I love this extract:

When you sign on to a workstation in the morning, it's not like the central computer doesn't notice that fact. The central computer notices just about everything. Keeps track of every key you hit on the keyboard, all day long, what time you hit it, down to the microsecond, whether it was the right key or the wrong key, how many mistakes you make and when you make them. ... Y.T.'s mom pulls up the new memo, checks the time, and starts reading it. The estimated reading time is 15.62 minutes. Later, when Marietta does her end-of-day statistical roundup, sitting in her private office at 9:00 P.M., she will see the name of each employee and next to it, the amount of time spent reading this memo, and her reaction, based on the time spent, will go something like this:

• Less than 10 min. Time for an employee conference and possible attitude counseling.
• 10-14 min. Keep an eye on this employee; may be developing slipshod attitude.
• 14-15.61 min. Employee is an efficient worker, may sometimes miss important details.
• Exactly 15.62 min. Smartass. Needs attitude counseling.
• 15.63-16 min. Asswipe. Not to be trusted.
• 16-18 min. Employee is a methodical worker, may sometimes get hung up on minor details.
• More than 18 min. Check the security videotape, see just what this employee was up to (e.g., possible unauthorized restroom break).

Y.T.'s mom decides to spend between fourteen and fifteen minutes reading the memo. It's better for younger workers to spend too long, to show that they're careful, not cocky. It's better for older workers to go a little fast, to show good management potential. She's pushing forty. She scans through the memo, hitting the Page Down button at reasonably regular intervals, occasionally paging back up to pretend to reread some earlier section. The computer is going to notice all this. It approves of rereading. It's a small thing, but over a decade or so this stuff really shows up on your work-habits summary.

5. The computer approves of rereading ... George Orwell's Big Brother is starting to look positively benign and Teddy-bear-like, isn't he?

The full article in the London Times is here.