Imagine, tomorrow, a race of technologically super-advanced aliens from Planet Zorgon lands. But instead of battleships, like in the movies, they send a squadron of interstellar development workers determined to help “the most vulnerable beings in our arm of the galaxy.”
The next day, they turn up at your house and are appalled at your living conditions. With a self-satisfied smile, they insist on training you how to use a miniature 29th century Medical Tricorder. Erm….gee, thanks mister.
What exactly would be wrong with that?