WHO resembles us? Somewhat few, and a majority of them are deceased. My apologies for speaking in a foreign language but, if you want to get on and be understood in this technologically homogenising world, then you’d better start getting with the programme, ken?

I speak, with only vague intelligibility, in the wake of a warning by linguists that the Scots tongue or leid could die out with the spread of voice-activated technology. Aspects of this have already touched our lives, and you may be familiar with the Burnistoun television sketch of two Scotsmen in a lift trying to tell the beast their desired floor. Desperately repeating “eleven” to no avail, one of the men declares: “Ah’m gonnae keep sayin’ it till it understauns Scottish.”

From reality-style life, the Daily Mail on Wednesday featured “hilarious footage” of “a Scot’s escalating fury as his car’s voice-controlled phone system refuses to understand him”.

(Incidentally, some of you may have noticed that everything is filmed in these technological times; the only place you’re safe from the camera is the lavatory, and I’d have a good look around there first too before you seat yourself comfortably).

To be fair to the machine, the Scottish driver was asking it to phone a garage called Re-Nu-It, the meaning of which took me ages to work out, and I’m a Scotsman with between one and three ears. I suspect that the request in any accent would have been rejected.

The driver became predictably irate and, told to “keep left at the fork”, replied with the advice that the machine should “fork off”. Then he declared: “Ah’m no daein’ it any more.” For foreign readers: “I am bringing this futile exercise to a conclusion.” The machine, with its honeyed Home Counties accent, pronounced finally: “Not recognised.” Rather like Scotland itself.

Comments underneath the piece included: “The Scotch should make the effort to modify their efforts a bit more to incorporate received pronunciation, especially since they voted to remain part of the UK just two years ago.” Aye, right (translation: “Yes, that is incorrect”).

On the other hand, perhaps our “bitter together” brother has a point. I can remember taking a telephone call in which I couldn’t make out the name of a third party that a fellow Scot was passing on to me. Getting increasingly enraged, the fellow started shouting what sounded to me like “Abadoo! Abadoo! Abadoo!”

It turns out the name was Albert Doull, a fine and manly moniker but slightly unusual to my ears. The man’s unthinking disinclination to render the name intelligible symbolises how some people simply will make no allowances and end up thinking, like British people abroad, that just saying the words louder should allow understanding.

I should point out that the linguistic experts under advisement, Dr Dominic Watt of the University of York and dialect coach Brendan Gunn, are warning that, with the growing need to talk to machines, Scots words like “bampot”, “glaikit” and “stooshie” could be blootered into extinction.

They say an independent Scotland might have to take measures to protect the language much as Norway did after centuries of Danish influence, but this is to assume that we are intelligent and commonsensical like the Norwegians, instead of self-hating and carnaptious.

It doesn’t look like we’re ever going to be independent anyway, and so the world of technology will continue to treat us the way Basil Fawlty treated some foreign guests (I’ve substituted Scottish for German): “Oh, [you’re] Scottish? I’m sorry, I thought there was something wrong with you.”

The experts predict that keyboards will become obsolete, and that all machinery will work on voice commands. This includes washing machines, fridges and online banking, which sounds well risky. “Geez twa hunderr poonds, ken?” Machine: “Do you want a macaroon?”

So: will technology adapt to us or will we adapt to technology? Perhaps we’ll just have to be bilingual, addressing machines in standard English and talking Scots among oorsells. It would make the language seem even more underground and “other” than it is already. But we’ll just have to thole it. Already, in supermarkets and other public places, recorded announcements address us in loud Estuary accents (which do seem made for advertising, right enough). And we don’t bat an earlobe.

I don’t think the word “stooshie” will ever die. It’s too saturated in the country’s soul. If stooshie goes, we go with it.

Right, ah’m ootae here. I said … oh, never mind.