PREDICTIVE TEXTING

By Blair Smith
Contact the author via Chris Johnstone by e-mail at christopher.johnstone@ntlworld.com

It was, perhaps, the most mysterious text message I had ever received. “Collect bronchi from swimming on way home.” It was from my wife. The remainder of the surgery was blighted by my straying concentration as I tried to understand this request, or instruction. Why did she want this unusual offal? Was she creating a bold culinary delicacy? Or pioneering a new surgical transplant procedure in attempt to cure her asthma? But, if the former, surely a butcher would be the logical stockist. And if the latter, how could her regular inhalers suddenly fail so dramatically to achieve the control that was apparent this morning? And the questions remained - why and where were they swimming? Were they in an aqualung?

Then it occurred to me. She had not proof-read her message, and this had become an error of predictive texting. I was used to this, of course. She had only recently mastered the technology that minimised the number of clicks on the mobile phone keyboard, and displayed the likeliest words from its database in order of probability. The trouble was that it sometimes did not display the expected word, and malapropisms traversed the airways to the destined phone. The occasional “of” instead of “me”, or “an” instead of “am” frequently slipped in but barely tested the interpretative mettle. Jane herself became “Land”, or “Lane” on several occasions. But this one had been a real teaser. After the surgery's conclusion, I typed “bronchi” into my own handset, pressed the appropriate key a few times, and eventually found my daughter's name - Bronagh. Well that was a relief! Visions of my wife dressed in bloodstained overalls, partaking in heathen rituals with dead body parts, dissolved and were replaced by the easy breathing implied by my daughter's new soubriquet. The relief, of course, was short-lived as I quickly realized that the delay in my surgery, caused by the distraction and afterwards by the interpretation, meant that poor Bronchi had now been shivering outside the swimming pool for approximately 20 minutes. She recovered after some offal pie.

Predictive texting is the best thing since perforated toilet roll. The time it saves us busy texters is considerable, allowing us to get on with the rest of our professional and social lives. In our practice area, the incidence of De Quervain's tenosynovitis has decreased noticeably in the last four years, and I can only attribute this to the reduced number of thumb abductions and extensions since the widespread adoption of predictive texting among the practice population. I myself can now type a mildly amusing text to my son in the time it takes me to walk from the car to the health centre. I once met a man so expert that he could type and send a transcript of an Old Testament book (one of the minor prophets) in under a minute. Without any inappropriate bronchi. Even my father can now text me the arrival time of the train he is on in less time than the train takes to get here. It's a changing world, and generally improving. The trouble is when it goes wrong, as above. Any system is only as good as its operator. My incomprehension and Bronagh's hypothermia might only be the thin end of the wedge. I have noted other predictive errors in texts to or from others. Peter Murchie, for example, texted to tell me that he was “purring a riot in the royal crop”. Unusual, I thought, even for one of such unusual talents, until I realized that he was actually supping a pint in the Royal Arms. Nothing at all unusual in that, except for the absence of a whisky chaser. I replied, telling him that if he had “sinned” earlier, I would have joined him. I meant “phoned”. Megan, our babysitter, texted to tell me that, with her forthcoming Highers exams, she was “brasshog herself, quaking in her pines”. I'll leave you to work that one out.

Like many of my peers in medical research, I have recently noted, admired, and tried to conceal a little envy at the success of our colleagues at the University of Dundee Medical School. In a number of spheres they have attracted large amounts of money from impressive bodies to conduct exciting and important research. I believed that this had been due to a combination of academic talent and supportive infra-structural strategy. That was before I discovered predictive texting errors. You see, without correction, “Dundee” becomes “Funded”. The clerk in the Medical Research Council finance office must act on the text received from the careless secretary of the Awards Committee: “Application Ref 04/462 - £4.4 million - that must be Funded”. At least this explains Dundee's success. As Billy Connolly noted, the British recording industry started the Second World War to promote Vera Lynn's new single. In the same way, Sir Alan Langlands must have invented predictive texting as a strategic means of promoting the University of which he is Chancellor. Sadly, there is no exciting alternative to “Aberdeen”, so I will go home. “Home” is “good”.

Battles or lives could be won, saved or lost on the strength of similar misunderstandings. We have heard of the telephone signal from the trenches of the First World War which effected such devastation. “Send re-inforcements, we're going to advance”, became, “Send three and fourpence, we're going to a dance.” The latter, although perhaps easier to arrange, was less effective. Today, a carelessly predictive signalman might text “Rend sf.go forcene?. we.pe inimi un beta mad.” At least the enemy would not be forewarned. As with prescription-writing, thorough proof-reading is always required. Wouldn't it be fun if prescriptions could be sent to the pharmacy by text? How many errors then?

The editor would like to see your examples of amusing, appropriate or confusing predictive text errors. Please send them to hoolet (and not to innket), where they will be compiled and presented in due course. Prizes will be awarded for the best, and will be printed in the Christmas hoolet.

Other hoolet online articles by Blair Smith can be found at:
hoolet edition 49 - Ethics and Repression in the Bloo Toon
hoolet edition 48 - May The Best Team Win
hoolet edition 47 - Hunting Pink Elephants
hoolet edition 46 - Predictive Texting
hoolet edition 45 - Role Models
hoolet edition 44 - Time To Go Killorglin'
hoolet edition 43 - Salt and Shake
hoolet edition 42 - Stepping up the Pace of Life
hoolet edition 41 - Smoking out the Irish Question
hoolet edition 40 - Not Cricket
hoolet edition 39 - Anniversaries and Predictions
hoolet edition 38 - Is There Life on Mars?
hoolet edition 36 - Onwards and Upwards
hoolet edition 35 - Goal of the Season‘s Greetings
hoolet edition 34 - Chickens and Eggs
hoolet edition 33 - On Shifting Goalposts
hoolet edition 32 - Period Zero
hoolet edition 30 - Annual Appraisal
hoolet edition 29 - Working Towards Scotland's Healthier Children For Us All 2020 and A Framework for Maternity Services in Scotland
hoolet edition 28 - In Memoriam Admiral Byng. A cautionary Tale

hoolet is the magazine of RCGP Scotland. It is supported intellectually, financially and emotionally by RCGP Scotland.

This issue maintained by Robert Hallam.