Expert Systems: Preface

When I was six years old, I automatically had a problem with being forced to write the same sentence ten times.  I came up with a method that was a little more mechanized and allowed me to work slightly on autopilot: writing each letter vertically, one at a time. I believed this was the most efficient approach, focusing on a single letter throughout the entire assignment. I would proceed from top to bottom, then bottom to top, continuing this pattern until reaching the punctuation mark at the end. Despite making a way of getting things done more efficiently, I despised homework.  It was me against the tyranny of the school system and my teachers at a very young age.  The tyranny of being made to do more work than need be by a person who somehow I was required by the way of things to be made to listen to.  She was just wrong!  10 sentences!  I already wrote 1!  It was absurd to me and writing one letter at a time was how I got back at her.

By the age of nine, I dreamed of a 20-foot container box that would magically appear at the press of a button. Inside, it would contain boxes of paperwork, with the next assignment I needed to submit conveniently placed at the top of the stack, right by the door. This imaginative solution reflected my desire for efficiency and order in managing tasks.

At ten, I read “Tom Swift and the Telephoto Express,” where the protagonist used a telegraph-like device to transmit signals that developed photographic negatives in a tray of chemicals. This concept fascinated me, igniting a lifelong interest in technological innovation and its potential applications.

When I was 11, my family purchased a computer, a momentous occasion that brought mixed blessings. We didn’t have a printer, so I had to bring my papers written a day early on a floppy disk for a friend to print for me. Before this, I had a typewriter—longer than anyone else in my class—which my family later sold, much to my dismay. I wanted to keep it forever because of my love of typing. These experiences underscored the transitional phase of technology in my life: exciting yet incomplete.

My relationship with technology faced more challenges in high school. During the first semester of Algebra 2, I wasn’t provided a graphing calculator and was grounded for a C until my math teacher dragged my parents in and explained that we were moving into a new electronic world. This revelation began to reshape my understanding of the importance of adapting to technological advances.

Fast forward to college, where I majored in religion. Despite my primary focus, I found myself captivated by the conversations of my peers in the dorms—students deeply engrossed in software development and technology discussions. Their passion and expertise intrigued me, prompting me to listen intently, even though I lacked a formal background in their field. My attempts to engage with technology were met with challenges. I managed to post some papers on God’s existence using GeoCities, a web hosting service popular at the time. However, when a friend gifted me a CD-ROM copy of Dreamweaver, a web development tool, I couldn’t figure out how to use it. These experiences highlighted the gap between my enthusiasm for technology and my technical skills.

I also carried lingering feelings from my childhood. My dad had not purchased me a bookshelf paper set of Encyclopedia Britannica. When he suggested giving me a CD-ROM Encyclopedia instead, I responded negatively, hurting his feelings. Looking back, I realize I was trying to hold onto the tangible books I loved as a kid. We didn’t have a television growing up, but we did purchase a National Geographic video every month. These tactile experiences with books and videos fueled my appreciation for tangible knowledge, even as I lived through the rise of the digital age.

After college, as an early graduate entering the real estate and mortgage industry, I worked for brokers who resisted adopting automated systems. They would not purchase software like Point for mortgage applications, so we did everything by hand, submitting handwritten applications to the processor. One broker even manipulated the system—rolling back the clock on the office computer to extend the use of an outdated version of WinForms without paying for a new copy. We had to white out the dates at the bottom manually. These experiences left me with a burning desire to implement automated software solutions while making me acutely aware of the challenges of technological adoption.

Reflecting on these early experiences, it’s evident that my unconventional approach to tasks and my curiosity about technology laid the foundation for my later endeavors. The blend of a religious studies background with a burgeoning interest in technology equipped me with a unique perspective. This perspective became instrumental as I ventured into the development of expert systems, particularly in integrating marketing, document, and law systems.

The evolution of technology since my childhood has been astounding. From the green screens of the Apple IIE in 1990 to the sophisticated systems of today, the landscape has transformed dramatically. The legal industry’s adoption of technology has faced hurdles, including social acceptance, legal principles specific to software, and cases initiated by bar associations and prosecutors’ offices nationwide. However, many of these battles have been fought, establishing a clear foundation for building expert systems.

As we stand in 2019, the world is vastly different from the one I knew as a child. Looking ahead to 2040, it’s intriguing to imagine how future generations will perceive our current technology, much like how we now view the green screens of the past.

In this book, we will explore the history of technology in our country, beginning with the First Amendment. The Federal Trade Commission considers software to be akin to a book, categorizing it as a human expression of self. Books remain on shelves until someone reads them, often long after the author’s passing. Similarly, software, once written, resides on a computer, awaiting interaction. It is static, even when dynamic, and serves as information rather than advice.

An expert law system allows users to encode legal processes into conditional logic contact forms, enabling interaction without dispensing personalized advice. It’s essential to inform users that such programs do not provide legal advice or create an attorney-client relationship, regardless of the creator’s professional status.

This preface sets the stage for our exploration of expert systems. We will begin by examining the fundamental differences between expert marketing, document, and law systems, followed by an expanded explanation of their similarities and the necessity of integrating all three in a cohesive manner.

James F. Polk, Founder of DocupletionForms.com