[Kim Seong-kon] Of human touch and the computer

We now live in a world where our lives are unwittingly controlled by computers. In fact, computers are so ubiquitous that we cannot imagine a world without them. 

Wherever you go, you will encounter a computer ― at schools, workplaces, stores, and airports, just to name a few. Our wellbeing practically depends on the computer because the moment it goes down for whatever reason, it seems as if the world stops and that we’re stuck helplessly until it reboots.

Indeed, the computer has become an indispensable part of our lives, something we cannot do without. Perhaps this is why there is a joke these days that B.C. stands not only for “Before Christ,” but also for “Before the Computer.”

The computer is so convenient, yet so annoying, and often an overbearing entity that controls your life. A few weeks ago, I was at the Chicago O’Hare International Airport. When I tried to purchase a ticket at the airline check-in counter, my American credit card did not go through. Since I have an impeccable credit history, it was the last thing I had expected. Anyone who has had the same frustrating experience would know how humiliating it is to see your card declined in front of a cashier. The cashier may assume that either your credit history is extremely bad or that you had tried to use a stolen card.

I called the American card company to file my grievance. After punching in my card number as instructed, a customer service representative answered my call, saying, “For security precautions, we need to verify your identification and transactions. What is your mother’s maiden name?” “Kuh,” I answered. Then he asked, “What are the last four digits of your social security number?” “xxxx,” A number of questions followed: “What is your address and phone number?”; On April 2, did you use your card for $40 at amazon.com?”

Finally, I was able to prove my identity and gain access to the system, which led me to be treated as a customer, and not a potential thief. The customer service representative asked me at last, “And how may I help you?” I explained the situation and asked him to release the hold on my card, so I could get back to normal transaction activity. The representative assured me, “Okay. You may use the card from now on. You shouldn’t have any problems.”

I felt greatly relieved and proceeded to rent a car at the airport when I arrived at Buffalo, New York. To my embarrassment, my card still did not go through, so I had to use my Korean credit card. I called the card company again to complain. Another customer service representative responded by asking me the same, mechanical questions, “What is your mother’s maiden name? What are the last four digits of your social security number?” and so on. I had to go through the tedious procedure all over again, before I heard the friendly question at last: “And how may I help you today?” So I explained the situation once again. “We apologize for the inconvenience,” said the representative. “But the computer warns us that your card may have been compromised.”

“But this is me.” I protested. “My card has not been stolen. In fact, I am holding it here right now. And you have already verified my identity, haven’t you? Why can’t I use my own credit card?”

She apologized, “We’re sorry, sir. The problem has been taken care of. You shouldn’t have any problems now.”

The next day I bought some beverages and groceries with my American credit card. It worked at last! However, it worked only briefly. When I tried to pay $300 for a Verizon cellphone, my card did not go through once again. I was exasperated. I called the card company again and had to go through the routine questions all over again, beginning with “What is your mother’s maiden name?” Then another representative came to the phone and asked me, “How may I help you today?” I told her I was losing my patience, so she should do something to fix the problem once and for all. “It’s the computer, sir. If you spend a lot of money in an unusual place, the computer alerts us immediately to hold your card for possible fraud. Also, if you use your card for a small amount a couple of times and then suddenly for a large purchase, the computer alerts us again, for that is the typical pattern of credit card fraud.”

Meanwhile, my Korean card security officer called me to verify the recent transactions I had made in the United States. After I told him that it was I who had used the card, I have not had any problems using my card. Unlike their American counterparts, Korean security officers do not seem to rely solely on the computer. After being burnt by the callous, inhumane computer continuously in the past few days, I miss the warm human touch intensely.

By Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon, a professor of English at Seoul National University, is editor of the literary quarterly “21st Century Literature.” ― Ed.