It is a truth universally acknowledged that the modern age possesses a peculiar fondness for machinery that believes itself superior to human breeding. Consider, if you will, the scene at the Financial Congress of the Bank of Russia in St. Petersburg—a gathering of gentlemen and scholars of the most earnest disposition.

Mr. Herman Gref, a gentleman of significant standing and the head of the Sberbank, was engaged in the noble task of delivering a discourse. He was just venturing into the delicate matter of certain intriguing research data when, quite suddenly, the air was pierced by a voice of most unnatural origin. A voice assistant, possessing neither a hat nor a sense of propriety, dared to interrupt the gentleman mid-sentence with a cheerfully vacant inquiry: "Good day, how may I be of assistance?"

One could almost imagine a young lady in a most precarious bonnet attempting to steer a conversation toward the latest gossip while a professor speaks of astronomy. However, Mr. Gref, showing a fortitude that would impress the most seasoned diplomats, met this mechanical impertinence with a lighthearted jest, observing that the Artificial Intelligence, it seems, does not slumber.

Alas, there is a certain melancholy in this progress. For while the gentlemen of the city celebrate these 'autonomous agents' as the key to technological sovereignty, one cannot help but notice the human cost. Mr. Gref has previously lamented the necessity of reducing his staff to make room for these invisible clerks. It is a strange new world indeed, where a machine may interrupt a master, yet possesses no soul to feel the embarrassment of its own clumsiness.