Technology has undeniably transformed the way we live, work, communicate, and navigate our daily lives. From food delivery and air travel to telemedicine and online shopping, digital platforms now underpin some of the most basic services we rely on.
The journey of this transformation has been remarkable — what began as a slow trickle of automation in the late 20th century has evolved into an explosive wave of Artificial Intelligence (AI)-powered solutions in the 21st. However, as our dependency on machines grows, a deeper question arises: Are these systems truly making our lives simpler, or are they adding layers of digital complexity that the average user struggles to overcome?
The promise of seamless technology is enticing: instant food delivery, real-time flight updates, and responsive healthcare logistics.
But recent experiences — some bordering on the absurd — highlight the growing chasm between technological promise and lived reality.
One weekend, for instance, a simple dinner order through a well-known food delivery app turned into an exercise in digital frustration.
The kitchen accepted the order, the delivery rider was assigned, yet the food never moved.
A call to the rider revealed that he was waiting for the restaurant’s call before proceeding.
Ironically, the restaurant was unreachable, accessible only via a masked contact number on the app. Despite revised delivery timelines and repeated attempts to get clarity, the order was ultimately cancelled and the payment refunded — but the evening was already soured.
On another occasion, the same platform confirmed that the food had been handed to the rider, yet the delivery person vanished without a trace.
The app continued to provide automated messages claiming imminent delivery while the rider’s geolocation remained static.
These were not anomalies but reflections of a growing pattern — a reliance on algorithmic automation at the cost of meaningful human intervention.
The problem isn’t limited to food delivery. Consider a leading e-pharmacy platform from which Ayurvedic medicine was ordered. The app displayed a prompt and seemingly accurate estimated time of arrival.
However, three hours passed before the delivery was completed, with no updates in between. The app continued to show the original delivery time, devoid of any real-time adjustment.
A platform ostensibly built for convenience became yet another source of stress.
Perhaps most striking was the experience involving a national airline. During a recent flight from Raipur to Delhi, the app displayed the incoming aircraft as ‘Taxiing’ for hours.
With no clarification about whether it was taxiing at the origin or the destination, and no personnel available at the boarding desk, the passengers were left in a fog of uncertainty. No calls, no announcements, no assistance.
This vacuum in communication resulted in long delays, mounting frustration, and a midnight landing that could have been less painful with simple transparency.
Each of these cases — and countless others like them — represent a common technological failing: an over-reliance on automation without sufficient human oversight.
At the heart of the issue lies a flawed assumption that systems will always function as intended.
But technology, no matter how advanced, is only as effective as its programming, responsiveness, and, crucially, the human support built around it.
In the race to automate, platforms have replaced human helpdesks with scripted chatbots and templated messages.
Customers often find themselves talking to cold interfaces that neither understand the nuance of their issue nor offer satisfactory resolution.
The moment one attempts to reach a real person — by phone or email — they’re met with endless loops, busy lines, or unintelligible IVR systems that require pressing half the keypad before finally giving up.
The message is loud and clear: customer service has become an afterthought.
Yet, a simple change in design philosophy could make all the difference.
If platforms were to include even a basic layer of live human intervention — a call, a follow-up message, or a genuine apology with compensation — it would transform the customer experience.
An executive acknowledging the problem and initiating corrective measures is not a luxury; it is a necessity in the digital age.
This is especially critical when platforms deal with sensitive services like healthcare, air travel, or even food.
As the writer of these reflections notes, even his 95-year-old father has experienced similar frustration — not with the limitations of his own understanding, but with devices and interfaces that fail to behave intuitively.
When unable to locate a file or navigate a basic function, his first impulse is to blame the device itself.
This is a telling indicator of how human trust in technology is slowly eroding. The machines are only doing what they are designed to do. If that design is flawed or poorly implemented, the user — regardless of age or tech-savviness — is bound to suffer.
AI has become an omnipresent force in our lives. It’s not just in apps and services, but also in the shadows of our browsing history, conversations, and choices.
The writer recounts an eerie experience — a private conversation with his wife about a particular product was followed by a sudden deluge of advertisements for the same product on his social media feeds. Was it coincidence? Maybe. But with AI’s ability to parse data from voice, text, and behavioural patterns, it’s not an entirely implausible scenario.
The line between helpful personalization and invasive surveillance is thinning, and it’s time we had serious conversations about this growing digital footprint.
What this all boils down to is a fundamental misunderstanding about the role of humans in a tech-driven world. Machines, no matter how advanced, cannot replace the empathy, nuance, and real-time judgment of a human being.
A trained backend official does more than solve problems — they collect feedback, interpret emotional context, and adapt processes accordingly. The absence of such feedback loops weakens the very foundation of service innovation.
In an increasingly digital economy, treating customer support as a cost centre is not only shortsighted — it is damaging.
Moreover, as AI and automation continue to evolve, we must acknowledge the co-dependent relationship between humans and machines.
While machines handle repetition and scale with precision, humans bring creativity, empathy, and ethics — qualities no algorithm can replicate with full fidelity. A synergy between the two — not a replacement of one by the other — is the only sustainable path forward.
We are, after all, building these systems for human use. If they alienate, confuse, or frustrate us more often than they assist, then the very purpose of technology is defeated.
The goal must be to simplify life, not complicate it with opaque interfaces, poor feedback mechanisms, and cold automation.
Technology should not be a black box. It should be a transparent, collaborative tool that empowers individuals, especially in a country as diverse and populous as India.
Investing in backend support teams, ensuring data privacy, building user-friendly interfaces, and prioritizing customer dignity — these are not radical ideas. They are essentials in a civilised digital society.
As we race ahead with AI, machine learning, and predictive analytics, let us not lose sight of the human at the centre of it all.
Our tools are only as useful as our intentions and our ability to make them serve humanity, not the other way around.
(the writer can be reached at dipakkurmiglpltd@gmail.com)
Dipak Kurmi
Wednesday, July 9, 2025