This week I went to Cambridge's Botanic Garden with some friends, and while the outdoor flowers were very much not in bloom, the greenhouse was bustling.
It's March and the air is brisk, although starting to get sunnier, so entering the warm, dewy inside of a greenhouse feels not dissimilar to stepping into a nice warm bath. Mmm. I know how these tropical plants must feel.
A strange thing, however, was happening in this greenhouse: you could "talk" to the plants. That's right boys, it's what you've all been asking for: custom AI chatbots for the plants, so you can ask each plant if it knows about racism, or something.
I have to be honest with you, I don't have anything to say to these plants. I don't want to talk to plants. I have nothing to ask them, and I'm not interested in what they "have to say". I just want to look at them and then go home. So I didn't bother to scan any of their QR codes to talk to their AI personalities. I can't imagine what the point would be.
With famous artists in a museum, at least you can imagine an idea behind the illusion of talking to that person - you could imagine wanting to ask Van Gogh what it felt like to slice off his ear, or what his favourite animal was, or something - but what are you going to ask a plant? Hey Randy the Rhododendron, what do you think about Keir Starmer's public response to the bombing of Iran? Does it feel bad when your petals fall off? Which is better - bath or shower?
Perhaps I should have asked these questions and seen for myself what the various plants had to offer as responses, but the tediousness of the idea was simply too strong for me. I can just come up with the conversation myself.
"Hey girl, I love my crazy leaves". Yeah. Okay.
When you put this distraction behind you, though, the garden is lovely. I like the spherical cacti, and the winding branches, and the various little pink flowers poking out of pots. That's what it's all about. And if a flower ever talks to me, I will not reply. I'll just silently walk on.
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