Do you need help?

Tony was standing on a dining chair trying to hang a curtain rod when Mara walked into the room. He had the rod balanced against one shoulder, a screwdriver in his mouth, and one end of the curtain hanging over his head.

“Do you need help?” she asked.

He took the screwdriver out of his mouth.

“No.”

“Okay.”

Mara walked into the kitchen while Tony stared after her. Two minutes later, the rod fell down and Mara came back.

“I can hold one end if you want.”

“I said I've got it.”

“I know. I was just offering.”

“You don't think I can hang a curtain rod?”

“What?”

“You've asked me twice if I need help.”

“Because you're standing on a chair with a curtain on your head.”

“I know how to hang a curtain rod.”

“I didn't say you didn't.”

“You didn't have to.”

Mara looked at the curtain, then at Tony.

“I literally asked, ‘Do you need help?’”

“Exactly.”

“No, not exactly. Those were the words, just four words. None of them were ‘Tony is incapable of hanging curtains.’”

“You were implying it.”

“I was offering to hold the rod.”

“Because you thought I needed you to.”

“Because it has two ends.”

They were now having an argument about a sentence neither of them had actually heard.

Mara heard:

You appear to be struggling. I can make this easier for you.

Tony heard:

You appear to be struggling. I don't think you can do this yourself.

The same four words were spoken, but a different social act was detected. That distinction is easy to miss because humans tend to treat language as though speakers package meaning into sentences and listeners open the package. Unfortunately, we didn't build humans with FedEx.

A machine doesn't receive only what someone says. It also has to determine what the person is doing by saying it. Are they making an offer, delivering a criticism, issuing a warning, attempting to control, or offering reassurance? Sometimes a question is just a question. Sometimes it's a judgment wearing a nice hat.

The words are evidence, but they aren't the finished event. And unfortunately for everyone, you don't get to choose how your machine interprets them.

“Do you need help?” can become an offer in one machine and an assessment of competence in another. “I'm proud of you” can become affection, recognition, or an announcement that the speaker considers themselves qualified to issue grades. “Don't worry” can be reassurance or dismissal. Even “You're wonderful exactly as you are” can register as acceptance or an unsolicited attempt to adjust someone else's opinion of themselves.

This is where arguments become particularly efficient.

“I wasn't criticizing you.”

“Yes, you were.”

“Tell me what I said that was critical.”

“It was the way you asked if I needed help.”

Now each machine produces evidence for a different trial. Mara points to what she was doing. I was offering to help. Tony points to what his machine detected. You were questioning whether I could handle it.

Neither has direct access to what happened inside the other's machine. Mara knows what she intended to do, and Tony knows what her words became when they entered his. Neither fact establishes the other.

Tony detecting criticism doesn't prove Mara was criticizing him. Mara intending an offer doesn't mean Tony's machine had to detect one. Two machines were in the room, and so were two versions of “Do you need help?”

By the time the curtain was hanging, neither of them needed help with the curtain. They needed several hours to establish what four words had been doing.