The recent announcement by the FAA that they were in the process of deciding the necessary rules for introducing drone technology to the civilian world was met with the usual reaction of apprehension and fear. Some people immediately worried about the lack of privacy this could engender, with drones spying (and reporting) on their every move, while others were just afraid of a chaotic airspace above their heads, with large, potentially dangerous machinery being operated by untrained and unlicensed pilots. And, of course, there were those people who worried that the drones are out to kill them (or, even worse, that the drones are out to kill their next door neighbors, but are using an outdated version of Google maps.)
As a mother, I didn’t worry about any of those things—not because I don’t think that they aren’t very real possibilities, but rather because they are already the reality I live with everyday. Lack of privacy? Being spied and reported on? If there are any parents out there who think that this isn’t already their daily fate, then tell them to try having a real heart to heart conversation with their child’s kindergarten teacher. Or, worse yet, tell them to wait until their children are in high school and then talk to that child’s entire peer group, a group whose main topics of conversation seem to be “God, I hate this place,” and “Ten more reasons why my parents are the worst people ever.”
And as for living under dangerous airspace where large flying object are being operated by ill-trained operators? Try living in a house with a boy who has decided that the best way to give someone the object they have requested is to throw it to them, no matter what the object may be, and no matter how ill-prepared their recipient is to receive it. There’s nothing like getting a math book right upside your head to make you realize that there really are such things as irrational numbers. Or at least there are in my house.
And don’t even try and talk to me about my chances of dying at the hands of an evil, maniacal despot. I live with teenagers, remember.
Yes, being a mother is why, when I heard the announcement about drones, I didn’t start worrying about any of these things. It’s also why I immediately began to worry about something else.
Delivery services.
Okay, I’ll admit it: the first thing I thought when I heard about civilian drones was not their potential to search for lost hikers in remote forests, or even to more accurately report on traffic and weather conditions, but rather how they will invariably end up being used as a sort of delivery service for forgetful children. I can already hear the phone calls now.
“Mom, I forgot my lunch/science fair project/dance shoes/plate of cookies I made you stay up all night to bake for my class.”
“Sorry honey, I guess you’ll just have to do without; I’m busy today.”
“Aw, c’mon Mom—just send it on a drone.”
“Again? This is the third time this week.”
I pity the poor drone who has to try and make its way in American airspace on some sort of nefarious government mission: it will be knocked out the sky by drones carrying math homework and permission slips every time. Who knows? Maybe it will turn out to be something we’ll be grateful for, rather than something else to complain about. I can just see the headline: Our Children—Keeping the Skies Safe With Their Forgetfulness. Yeah, I’m not buying it, either.