Americans pulling into a Starbucks drive thru might think they are being served by a friendly staff member. But at some locations, the voice listening to the order is actually an AI robot. Behind the counter inside the store, baristas can lean on a virtual personal assistant to recall recipes or manage schedules. In the back of the shop, a scanning tool has taken on the painstaking process of counting the inventory, relieving staff of one of retail's most tedious chores, in a bid to fix the out-of-stock gaps that have frustrated the firm. The new technology is part of the hundreds of millions of dollars the 55-year-old coffee giant has been investing as it tries to win back customers after several years of struggling sales.

In 1998, The Truman Show told the story of a man whose life, unbeknownst to him, is a phenomenally elaborate reality television show. Every day and around the clock, every move made by the hapless Truman Burbank (Jim Carrey) is captured by a network of hidden cameras and broadcast live worldwide for the entertainment of millions. And then Truman begins to notice discrepancies. "Things that don't fit," he says, in the original script. Twenty years later, The Truman Show writer Andrew Niccol frequently experiences what he calls Trumanesque moments. Sloppy art direction and set design. And he doesn't mean anything happening on a set or on a screen. "There'll be a traffic jam, for instance, for no reason," Niccol says. "In my mind, the reason is actually that Christof"--the all-powerful, demiurge director of The Truman Show--"isn't ready at the next set. Or when you see someone out of context. And you realize, oh my god, that person was in the hospital scene. Today, we are all Truman, our ...