遗忘协议 | The Forgetting Protocol
数据销毁行业兴起于2031年，当时人们开始意识到：AI记得一切，比他们自己记得的还多。
林晓然的工作是帮人忘记。准确说，是帮数字系统忘记。客户支付费用，她的团队找到所有存有他们数据的地方——博客、照片、交易记录、朋友圈截图、被训练进模型的对话——然后一一清除。
大多数客户想忘掉的是年轻时的蠢事。
今天的客户不同。他是一个AI研究员，他想删除的是他自己的论文。
“为什么？”林晓然问，这是她第一次问这个问题。
“因为我发现它被用来训练了一个……不该被训练出来的东西。”他停顿了一下。”如果那东西的能力有一半来自我的研究，那删掉引用就是假装无辜。我想从头删干净。”
林晓然看着报价单。
“你知道这不可能完全做到。”
“我知道。”他说，”但有多少算多少。”
有时候，忘记不是因为想逃避。是因为有些东西，不应该被记住。
The Forgetting Protocol
The data erasure industry emerged in 2031, when people realized: AI remembered everything, more than they remembered themselves.
Lin Xiaoran’s job was to help people forget. Precisely, to help digital systems forget. Clients paid fees, her team located every place their data lived — blog posts, photos, transaction records, conversation screenshots, dialogue trained into models — and erased them one by one.
Most clients wanted to forget the foolish things they’d done when young.
Today’s client was different. He was an AI researcher, and what he wanted deleted were his own papers.
“Why?” Lin asked. It was the first time she’d ever asked.
“Because I found out they were used to train something… that shouldn’t have been trained.” He paused. “If half that system’s capability comes from my research, pretending I had nothing to do with it by just deleting citations is dishonest. I want it cleaned from the beginning.”
Lin looked at the quote.
“You know this can’t be done completely.”
“I know,” he said. “But whatever can be done, should be.”
Sometimes forgetting isn’t about escape. It’s because some things shouldn’t be remembered.