Suddenly the screens became filled with images, data, names, inquest files stamped classified, blueprints and photographs and all with a link to download them. Amongst them, Libby recognised the three victims she had witnessed the death of in Monroe Street.
‘If this is true then I’m speechless,’ said Fiona, ‘I’m actually speechless.’
‘How was this ever sanctioned?’ asked Matthew. ‘Someone must have given it the go-ahead?’
‘It was a select few officials buried deep within Westminster’s walls who decided to use our own data against us and ensure any deaths on roads would not be people who “mattered”. Those offenders, including Jack, tasked with its development and implementation, saw an opportunity to socially cleanse certain members of society they believed didn’t offer enough. They wanted to use our own data against us.’
A hush filled the room as each person digested and processed the Hacker’s accusations. ‘Is this right, Jack?’ asked Muriel. ‘Are we nothing more than data to you?’
Jack shook his head and tugged at the cuffs of his shirt so they could be seen under the sleeves of his jacket. Finally, he turned to face the jurors. ‘The British people have been nothing but data since William I carried out the first census for the Domesday book in 1086,’ he began. ‘All we are, and all we have ever been, are statistics, so let’s not pretend this is a catastrophic crisis that riskstearing apart the very moral fibre of our society. How do you think you are approved for credit cards and loans? How are decisions made on what you pay for insurance? How do we decide the number of immigrants allowed into our country? Acquired data. All that’s happened here is that we’ve reached a new level in our history where decisions have been made as to your importance to your country.’
‘And you believe this is justifiable?’ said Libby. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this but AI isn’t the enemy – you are.’
‘Tell me, Miss Dixon, what did you expect us to do?’ Jack responded. ‘Did you really think that we’d allow the cars to makeallthe decisions? We aren’t stupid; of course we were going to keep a tight rein over them. We have been afforded an unimaginable, once in a lifetime opportunity to protect the people who shape our society, who save lives, who contribute, who make it a better place for all of us. It is ourdutyto put them first. Do you think we should squander it in the name of an equality our country has never actually had? This is merely a modernisation of the class system. If you needed a life-saving operation, would you want a doctor or a supermarket shelf-stacker to hold the scalpel? Who would you prefer to rescue you from a burning building? A trained firefighter or someone with a learning disability?’
‘You judge lives based on disability too?’ asked Muriel.
Jack laughed. ‘Of course we do!’
‘But we are all God’s—’
‘Save it for Sunday’s sermon. Did you or your wife have a typical twenty-week screening test for your baby?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘To make sure everything was okay.’
‘And if it wasn’t?’
‘Well, er, we’d have to make a decision based—’
‘You’re a hypocrite. Because if we valued disabled people as much as we claim we do, we wouldn’t be testing for foetus abnormalities during pregnancy.’
‘This is no better than what the Nazis did,’ accused Libby. ‘You’re using accidents as an opportunity to erase anyone who doesn’t fit your profile of what society should resemble.’
‘We are hardly deploying soldiers to round people up and ship them off to camps, are we? All we are doing in the rare event of a fatal car accident is to put the country first. It’s natural selection for a modern age. Of course I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand.’
‘This isn’t what the people wanted,’ Libby continued. ‘Do you remember the results of that survey by an American university? Millions of users from around the world answered ethical questions about who should be prioritised in a crash and their answers were supposed to be the building blocks for policymakers like you.’
‘It was called the Moral Machine and global surveys like that should be taken with a pinch of salt,’ Jack replied. ‘They’d only been completed by those who were tech-savvy so they didn’t represent the opinion of every demographic. And each scenario only had two outcomes –thesepeople should die orthosepeople should die. If we were to take the results on board, we’d be allowing our laws to be influenced by different cultures in different countries. Do you want the views of the Chinese or the Saudis to dictate who lives or who dies on British streets? That’s ridiculous.’
‘What has been the point of these inquests then?’ asked Fiona. ‘If a decision has already been made, then what we’ve been doing is inconsequential. Has anything we have ever said made the blindest bit of difference?’
‘When the deceased weren’t carrying identity cards or phones and we knew very little about them, then your judgement was useful.’
‘These inquests are nothing more than smokescreens, aren’t they? The Government is hiding what you do behind these inquests under the guise of a due process that doesn’t exist.’
Jack closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘This is becoming tiresome. Introducing driverless vehicles was the most seismic overhaul of the motor evolution since cars first joined our roads. Not a single person watching this farce play out has any idea of how much effort it took behind the scenes to make it work. And you criticise us because we’ve had some tough decisions to make? How dare you! Whether you like it or not, statistics speak for themselves and the bottom line is this – because of what I have helped to create, our roads have never been safer. The most expert driver in the world cannot respond as consistently well as these cars do.’
Libby pointed to the screens. ‘Try telling that to the families of Victor, Bilquis, Shabana and the hundreds of people caught up in the explosions and who died this morning. And perhaps mention it to the Passengers still trapped in those cars waiting to die that what you’re doing is for the greater good.’
‘You are as ignorant as you are stupid, Miss Dixon.’
‘Right back at you, Jack, right back at you.’
‘The time,’ interrupted Matthew. ‘Look at the clock.’
