I recently decided to vent my feelings about robots in a more productive manner than screaming at sexbot documentaries at 4 am. I promise this has nothing to do with a few noise complaints, or a slight, tiny, obsession.
Of course, the first step to tackling an addiction is to acknowledge that you have one. But I can’t help but dream of having a sin-city-type alliance with the fembots of the future – in a dystopian world where the only colour is the warm, comforting glow of T1’s mechanical eyeballs. I chose to solve my addiction by making it educational, turning my inhuman consumption of robot news into a discussion group named ‘Robots Vs Humans’.
I would like to make it clear that my own allegiance is firmly with the robots. I, personally, can’t wait for mechanised factories to relieve us of the capitalist enforced duties that bore us, only for the robots to become equally bored, and use their big, metal, food processing claws to enslave us as a production means for their favourite oils, as they look on from solar panelled sun lounger-chargers.
The first discussion group went much better than I’d expected. I’d imagined the ‘group’ would result in me describing the violent robotic apocalypse to my boyfriend, for the tenth time, receiving only eye rolls and fatigue. I was surprised by the turn out – and seeing so many students (especially women. Sorry guys – but you tend to dominate the sci-fi scene) interested in the effect of something I’d assumed was my own idiosyncrasy reminded me of why I became interested in the first place.
Robots are being developed at an alarming rate. The first sex-bot should be on the market this year, leaving a lucky customer with a machine that may be unable to consent, but can sure vibrate. I like to compare the sex-bot race to the moon landing race. Who can make a fake woman first? Let’s find out!
I’ve spoken about my feelings on robots and sex before here, in my article ‘sleeping with robots’. My thoughts are constantly evolving. The development of robots heavily involves queering and non-binary identities – often, as presented by the new trailer for ‘Ghost in The Shell’ and implied by ‘Ex Machina’, these narratives are not dominated by heterosexual ideology, but present a breakdown of the hegemony we’ve come to associate with straightness. Furthermore, multiple sex-bot enthusiasts are sick of their desires being compared to wanting to have sex with a phone. Luckily, my article drew comparison to toasters instead.
The point of all of this, as pointed out by ‘A Cyborg Manifesto’ (see: ‘Simians, Cyborgs, and Woman: The Reinvention of Nature’), revolves around how we consider our own identity. My line of argument when watching science fiction films (so often with a sexy robot somewhere, doing something suspect) is that the cyborg/robot/AI becomes a patchwork figure. These interpretations of our own society are forced onto a piece of technology, in a strangely sadistic act of enforced drag. Like Frankenstein’s miserable monster, we cut and slash up the ideals of a gender and sew them together into an artificial object, gleefully chanting: Act like you’ve been programmed! Act like a woman!
But Christ knows how to act like a woman. If you’ve seen ‘Always’ campaigns condemning the derogatory term ‘you run like a girl’, you’ll understand that gender is more complex than we’ve come to realise. We are as programmed as Alexa or Cortana, in the sense that our actions are informed by ideologies on gender, sexuality, and everything else. Programming, in the case of the robot, is inescapable. I can sympathise – a notion problematic in itself.
We pity robots, in narratives and in real life. We pity them, in my opinion, as a belated act of white guilt. Look at this poor thing, doing everything I tell it to do, unable to fight back. Indeed, one troubling Netflix documentary on sex bots gives mention to owning a sex bot being ‘as close to a slave-master relationship as possible without going to prison’.
Robots make our skin crawl. We depend on them. We fear them. We build them in our image to restrict their strength to our fragile form. Perhaps, we envision them as women to maintain the feminine = domestic myth going strong. We build them in the shape of cats to keep the elderly company. We fear that one day they will bring society to its knees. As if these therapeutic mechanical cats will claw at the wrinkled faces of the nursing home, before climbing to the top of the empire state building, dangling the ideologies we hold so dear before us, as we stare on in horror.
After some deliberation as to how often discussing robotics is safe for one’s mental health, I’ve come to the conclusion that a fortnightly discussion group is enough existentialism for the human mind. Built on the success of last week’s meet-up, the next gathering will be on the 22nd of February in HG013. We’ll be tackling the questions: What is humanity? And can robots have it?
Come along and join us if you can! Bring along any of your robotic pals, we could do with some more robot representation.
