One of the Zen-like sayings commonly associated with Yogi Berra is, “It's tough to make predictions, especially about the future.” I know to my cost that this is true, but however true it may be, this truism may itself predate Yogi, as the quote "Prediction is very difficult, especially about the future," is widely attributed to Nobel Prize-winning physicist Niels Bohr.

Be that as it may, I’m constantly being impressed with the prophetic, predictive, and prescient prose of the science fiction writers of yesteryear.

For example, consider A Story of the Days to Come by H. G. Wells. Written around 1899, this novella presents a dystopian future set in 22nd-century London, featuring massive cities, extreme class stratification, and advanced technology.

Early in this tale, we read about a future man listening to a continuous stream of music, news, and announcements delivered into his room via something very much like what we’d now think of as a smart speaker. This device also featured “…electric barometric indicators, and an electric clock and calendar, and automatic engagement reminders…”

The key point is that this was written before commercial radio broadcasting even existed, so Wells is not imagining “radio” as his contemporaries would later know it. Instead, Wells envisages a centralized, subscription-based audio service, likely delivered over wires (consistent with late-Victorian thinking, telephony, and cable systems).

Or how about The Machine Stops by E. M. Forster? Written in 1909, this thought-provoking tale depicts a dystopian future in which people live in isolated underground cells, completely dependent on a vast, world-organizing Machine for all their needs, leading to a loss of individuality and direct human connection.

Every citizen lives in a small, self-contained compartment where the Machine controls air, temperature, lighting, automated food delivery, and communication. Forster describes people communicating through a “speaking apparatus” combined with a “visual plate,” allowing them to see lectures, performances, and one another without being physically present.

This world also features highly automated transport systems, including underground railways, moving platforms, and airships (for long-distance travel). These vehicles run automatically (and on time), even though people rarely use them anymore. All this is super-impressive when we remind ourselves that computers and automation, as we know them today, weren’t even dreamed of in the early 1900s (well, apart from by people like E. M. Forster, who was doing more than his fair share on the prognostication front).

Everything is fine and dandy (if a little scary)… right up until the time that the Machine stops (cue the opening bars of Beethoven’s Fifth)…

I remember reading a short story from 1954, The Midas Plague, by Frederik Pohl. In this upside-down world of cheap energy and advanced automation, robots are producing far more goods than society actually needs.

This means the problem is no longer production—it’s consumption. To keep the economic system functioning, someone needs to use up all those surplus goods; consumption becomes labor, and people are assigned consumption quotas.

As a result, the poorest people are burdened with massive consumption requirements. They must live in crowded apartments, use appliances and furniture constantly, wear out their clothes, and eat excessive amounts of food. Consumption is their full-time job.

By comparison, the wealthy elite are privileged precisely because they are allowed to consume very little. They enjoy sparse, quiet living spaces, minimal possessions, peace, privacy, and time. In this topsy-turvy world, restraint is wealth, excess is poverty, and true luxury is not having to consume.

I also remember numerous stories in which adverts are tailored and presented to individuals as they travel through the world. For example, people passing by display screens in public places see adverts targeted specifically at them. All this is based on ubiquitous automated surveillance systems that know who everyone is and where they are.

This seemed far-fetched when I read these tales as a young man. No longer. Recently, I saw a video about a department store that was using just this type of technology. In fact, they took it further, personalizing the ads according to what viewers were wearing, like nice warm coats, gloves, and scarves for people standing outside, looking at displays through the store’s windows, shivering in the cold, while waiting for a bus.

“Scary-wary!” Is all I can say, but we digress…

One science fiction trope I don't recall tripping over is the concept of two people purchasing the same thing at the same time in the same place while being charged different amounts, but it seems that's the world we now live in.

Today’s meandering musings were triggered by something I heard on the radio during my morning commute to work. The presenters were talking about how dynamic pricing and surveillance pricing are “real and now.” I was aware of both concepts and knew that dynamic pricing was “a thing,” but I hadn’t realized that surveillance pricing was already among us (eeek!).

As a reminder, the idea behind dynamic pricing is that prices change based on market conditions, not who you are. Inputs include supply and demand, time of day/season, location, inventory levels, and so on. Classic examples include airline tickets rising as seats fill, Uber/Lyft surge pricing during peak demand, time-of-use electricity rates, and hotel prices fluctuating by date and local events.

By comparison, when it comes to surveillance pricing (a.k.a. personalized or individualized pricing), prices do change based on who you are, inferred from data collected about you. In this case, inputs may include browsing and purchase history, device type (phone vs laptop), precise location, income proxies, loyalty status, past willingness to pay, cookies, accounts, and cross-site tracking, and so on.

The results of surveillance pricing include different users seeing different prices for the same product at the same time, discounts withheld from users likely to buy anyway, higher prices shown to certain users on expensive devices, and personalized “offers” that are not universally available. The key takeaway here is that two people can see different prices simultaneously for the same item under the same conditions.

The program's host gave an example. I can’t remember the exact details, but the gist was that she visited a Walmart site using one browser as an anonymous user and via another browser as herself. The prices she saw for the same tube of toothpaste were something like $3.74 and $3.99, respectively.

As one of the people on the show said, “Does this mean we’re going to have to jump through these hoops every time we order something online?” The problem is that even if you start out in stealth mode, as soon as you place your order and give them your shipping address and credit card number, they know who you are for next time.

The more you buy, the more they know about you, including how much you’re prepared to pay and how much looking around you’re prepared to do (which won’t really help if the prices fluctuate before you get to look at them).

I’m still trying to wrap my head around all the ramifications of this. What do you think? Any ideas?