The Good Robot

The good robot will have three functionalities. One is a sensory system that conveys what is happening outside it fully and accurately. The second is a logical structure within able to “understand” outer events correctly. The third is a motor system, moved by the logical structure, which will enable it to act correctly, thus avoiding “dangers” and realizing “values.”

Are we good robots? It seems that we are. Our sensory systems bring us the outside world without distortion, more or less “straight.” To be sure, we have some problems at dawn or dusk or in the night—and fire hydrants may look like dogs if, say, some discarded cardboard box is leaning up against it. We are fast. And because we are, it is very difficult to draw sharp lines between our perceptions and our reactions. But at least at the level of ordinary experience what comes in is neutral. What we perceive may be interpreted as threatening or attractive, but those qualities arise from within. They follow the perception at a tiny lag in time. In turn our actions or inactions to this stimulus are sequentially last.

Imagine next what would happen if the input were distorted. This can happen if the sensory apparatus is defective or comes to be modified by drugs. Suppose that our senses were managed by another person—and that that person had something to gain or lose by how we interpreted the incoming signal. The reason why our inputs are always just “the facts, Mam, nothing but the facts” is because we are—a good robot. The design is optimal. It mutes the same old and draws attention, always, to change, the unusual—the moving, the too hot, too cold, too sharp, too dim, too bright. Otherwise it is neutral.

Now our modern Media are our only organ for sensing the Great Collective. Alas, they’re managed by other people. And these people have incentives to distort the signal in ways that will benefit them. Minimally they have to earn income to support the services they provide, and they are in competition—whereas, in us, different senses, like touch, sight, smell, hearing, taste are flawlessly organized so that only the intensity of a sensation will cause us to prefer one over another sense. “What is that evil smell. Where does it come from?!” And we’re on our feet—even if we’re watching a very tense mystery.

To be a great collective robot’s sensory system, the Media must deliver news, if nothing else, as objectively as possible. But that’s only possible if there is a unity of vision out there too. Reforming the Media, so that they deliver only the facts, Mam, without slant, clever choice, and interpretation appears, ultimately, an impossibility. We’re individuals, not cells in a Great Collective. Therefore, in the case of watching or reading the Media, what comes in is a distortion—and yet another functionality must be cultivated before we can permit ourselves to react. We must develop and apply a truth filter. No robot has that, alas, be it good or bad. But we do.

A Mental Nervous System

A fascinating article in the Wall Street Journal today tells the story of a “hospital” in Bagram, Afghanistan, where combat robots are fixed. There is Medicare for robots, sure enough, and no entertaining controversy about co-pays or budget deficits in that connection. Soldiers in the theater become very attached to their robots. They name them, give them ranks and promotions, and when the bots are injured they want the same robot back again—not a replacement.

There is a lesson here. We animate extensions of our bodies by extending a mental nervous system to them; their ills and injuries cause us literal if only mild inner pain. How many people, hitting a really harsh pothole, haven’t cried “Ouch” at the bump. My computer has a seizure, a stroke? Flat-lines in a power outage? All else stops until it’s healed.

Having chuckled with Brigitte about this story, I went to tell Clare about it. Clare is our Honda CRV. I think she smiled at me. But she’s still just a baby delivered to us at Jeffrey Honda—or should I say our auto-clinic?

The Robots are Coming?

No. The robots are here. Not the kind that TV channels love—creatures that walk on metal legs and, yes, even on uneven ground. Not the kind that excel in deboning poultry; that effort is stymied by the perverse individuality of chickens. Not the kind that Costco, we hope, will soon offer to vacuum and de-clutter our home; for those we might have to wait forever. But the robots are here, nonetheless. Two cases. One was in the public domain, a story in the Wall Street Journal titled “Software Raises Bars for Hiring.” It identified robotic methods of screening job applications. You apply, you are rejected, and the only actual human involvement was yours—in submitting the application and viewing the rejection. The other was a robo-call, so-called, telling us that our cash card may have been compromised. We were instructed by the female-voiced robo to call the number on the back of the card. This robot, to be sure, while having a voice, had neither arms nor legs and won’t ever enjoy tongue-in-cheek admiration in a feature shown at the end of a news hour. Calling that number embroiled us in a twenty-minute interaction with another female robot. It could understand voice commands but preferred us to key in a quite substantial number of numbers before, finally, after Brigitte answering another twenty questions, we finally reached None of the Above and then—pressing the number 4 on the phone—we finally reached a human voice. More numbers were demanded. At last came the answer. Nothing’s wrong with our cash card. Everything is hanky-dory. As for that call, the living female voice on the other end, and you could actually hear a human intonation, meant specifically for Brigitte’s understanding, said. “Well, you know those things. Those are all robo-calls. It was probably just some glitch.” — A glitch we might have done without. Leaving me, tomorrow, to do the vacuuming. Alas, I can’t wait any longer.