“Aren’t you tired of Sophia’s stuff. I mean, it’s everywhere. Music, painting, jokes, even performances. I mean, c’mon; it’s a robot. Nothing but a machine. And that citizenship thing! What are or were the Saudis thinking? That alone tells us we’re in trouble—big time.”
“Soph? Sophia? What’s this you’re going on about? You sometimes just start talking in the middle of stuff. Do you carry on conversations in your head until your brain can’t hold the thoughts? Is that why you break out audibly? Trying to get all those jumbled thoughts out of your bewildered mind?”
“Sorry. Yes, I was thinking, and I just had to say it. That Hanson Robotics’ robot Sophia. That’s what I was talking about. Looks like a woman. Attractive face, actually. Very symmetrical. Beautiful, some might say. But the last photo I saw of her—darn it, now I’m doing it—photo of it, I mean, had a transparent head to which that face was attached. I could see her brain—shoot, I keep doing it. Not her brain, rather its machinery. And why clothes? It’s as though someone put a Ferrari chassis on my Jeep. You know there’s no real Ferrari body under those clothes, right? And you know that the robot feels no embarrassment about what being in a birthday suit might reveal. Well, I’m assuming. I never saw what’s under those clothes, but I’m guessing just a framework to hold the computer stuff and the machinery to run the arms and neck with its flexible skin.”
“You said something about the Saudis. What was that?”
“Yeah. Back a few years ago, they granted Sophia, a robot, citizenship. World’s topsy-turvy. The Saudis spent centuries denying women full citizenship rights, and then gave those rights to a machine that looks pretty much like a human woman—if there is such a creature as a woman anymore. ‘Amen, awoman,’ as the Congressperson said. The Saudis probably even issued a passport. Wonder what would happen if Saudi Sophia tried to sneak into the American southern border or fly openly into the country. Well, I guess my first question is about disease. Do robots get COVID?”
“You make a good point about the Saudis and that robot Sophia. What’s that other stuff you mumbled? The stuff about music, painting, jokes, and performances?”
“Hanson Robotics has her—shoot, not her but it—doing all that. And sorry to digress, but why am I saying ‘her’ and correcting myself. In this crazy world of seven billion genders—one for every human—I don’t know what word to use. Here’s a thought on that…”
“See what I mean? There you go off on one of those tangents hitting the endless circle of thoughts in your head.”
“No, this one’s worth it. It just popped out. Since there are so many who want to say there are multiple genders, and since the media accept a new definition of gender that excludes biology, then I suggest we use numbers. You know, someone asks, ‘What gender are you?’ and you respond, ‘Seven,’ or ‘536,’ or ‘six billion, four hundred fifty-three million, three hundred seventy-two thousand, nine hundred eighteen.’ Yeah. Let’s use numbers to get around having to invent a name for every gender or to use the limited number of 26 letters in the English alphabet. Of course, we could use the Telegu alphabet. Got more vowels, 16 of them and 41 consonants, not to mention the three vowel modifiers.”
“Geez, do you ramble. Go back to Sophia.”
“So, Sophia made what’s being called a ‘cooperative painting.’ Sold for almost $700,000. Sophia is into making musical compositions, too. Sophia performs in public, by the way, on demand. Does that make Sophia a robot slave? The hypocrisy runs rampant. See, I don’t have any qualms about saying that I use my vehicles to transport me. Yes, I like my truck and my Jeep, but they are just machines, and I like them because they both work efficiently without looking like a human being. When they stop working, they’ll go to the junk heap. You know those piles of broken cars you’ve seen along roads, those junkyards. Now imagine the insensitivity of real humans when they see piles of Sophia heads waiting for recycling or for the sale of parts. Look what you’ve started, Hanson Robotics. We already know how desensitized to images of broken and torn bodies soldiers of real wars become and teenage boys—sorry, gender number two in general—become through virtual wars on their X-boxes. Now, we’re all going to drive past piles of discarded anthropomorphic robot bodies and heads. Geez. This is getting even more complicated. Can I say anthro about anything? It’s Greek for ‘man.’ Can’t say hermaphroditic, either, since that limits the genders to those of Hermes and Aphrodite. Anyway, decapitated Sophias lying in piles along highways, that’s got to desensitize anyone.”
“While you rambled, I looked up Sophia. * Aren’t you happy that robots will be able to replace common laborers? People can just sit around while the Sophias work. Isn’t that the goal? I heard a Speaker of the House say that with universal health care people won’t have to work and will be able to pursue their dreams of being an artist or a writer, a sculptor—geez, now you have me doing it—sculptress, excuse me, human-who-shapes rock, metal, or papier-mâché into whatever, maybe even an imitation of an imitation, like making a statue of Sophia that seems to be an imitation of a human female. Is female allowed? Since Sophias are machines, then using them is no more slavery than your driving your Jeep or truck over rough terrain. And by the way, as far as art goes, don’t you already buy products made through mass production by machines because you like the products’ shapes, colors, or functions? That’s largely how your Jeep was made. Robots. You accepted the work of robots and bought the cars they—may I say ‘they’—built. Does that mean you favor robot slavery? You know those robot slaves as you call them rarely make a mistake except for malfunctions caused by worn-out parts and human errors, as in bad input, bad output, junk in, junk out. And look at the advantage for humans. As the Speaker said with regard to freedom provided by universal health care, people who used to work on assembly lines producing cars or dish washers can now pursue their dreams of becoming stay-at-home artists.”
“You’ll see. This robot stuff is different from the assembly line, which makes me think that that long held belief in the dignity of work will disappear like those assembly line workers. Sophia will send us down a different path, not just down an assembly line. Heck, aren’t there even robotic partners for intimacy? You’ll get tired of the Sophia stuff someday, probably when it’s too late, like after half the world’s citizens are named Sophia, and their proliferation as ‘citizens’ will enable them to take over political control of humans. She—or it—gets that name ‘Sophia’ from the Greek for ‘wisdom,’ but I wonder about the wisdom of making her—or it or gender-number-seven-billion-eight-hundred-million-twenty-seven, or whatever gender Sophia will choose to be. And don’t think you’ll get the answer to that question of gender by looking under Sophia’s dress, or by watching from the shadows as Sophia walks through the car wash for a cleaning. I can’t wait for the ‘I told you so’ derisive question, ‘Don’t tell me you’re marrying a real human?’ to start popping up in conversation. You’ll see. Robot dignity will equal or surpass human dignity. Robot accomplishment will be declared ‘creative, intuitive, ingenious.’ But when everyone owns a slave called ‘Sophia,’ humans will become willing slaves of robots, have slavish minds, and live assembly-line lives of boring repetitiveness.”
Notes:
*For a summary article on Sophia’s latest accomplishments, see
Zen Soo and Alice Fung. 3 April 2021. Robot artist sells art for $688,888, now eyeing music career. TechXplore online at https://techxplore.com/news/2021-04-robot-artist-art-eyeing-music.html Accessed April 5, 2021.
“Soph? Sophia? What’s this you’re going on about? You sometimes just start talking in the middle of stuff. Do you carry on conversations in your head until your brain can’t hold the thoughts? Is that why you break out audibly? Trying to get all those jumbled thoughts out of your bewildered mind?”
“Sorry. Yes, I was thinking, and I just had to say it. That Hanson Robotics’ robot Sophia. That’s what I was talking about. Looks like a woman. Attractive face, actually. Very symmetrical. Beautiful, some might say. But the last photo I saw of her—darn it, now I’m doing it—photo of it, I mean, had a transparent head to which that face was attached. I could see her brain—shoot, I keep doing it. Not her brain, rather its machinery. And why clothes? It’s as though someone put a Ferrari chassis on my Jeep. You know there’s no real Ferrari body under those clothes, right? And you know that the robot feels no embarrassment about what being in a birthday suit might reveal. Well, I’m assuming. I never saw what’s under those clothes, but I’m guessing just a framework to hold the computer stuff and the machinery to run the arms and neck with its flexible skin.”
“You said something about the Saudis. What was that?”
“Yeah. Back a few years ago, they granted Sophia, a robot, citizenship. World’s topsy-turvy. The Saudis spent centuries denying women full citizenship rights, and then gave those rights to a machine that looks pretty much like a human woman—if there is such a creature as a woman anymore. ‘Amen, awoman,’ as the Congressperson said. The Saudis probably even issued a passport. Wonder what would happen if Saudi Sophia tried to sneak into the American southern border or fly openly into the country. Well, I guess my first question is about disease. Do robots get COVID?”
“You make a good point about the Saudis and that robot Sophia. What’s that other stuff you mumbled? The stuff about music, painting, jokes, and performances?”
“Hanson Robotics has her—shoot, not her but it—doing all that. And sorry to digress, but why am I saying ‘her’ and correcting myself. In this crazy world of seven billion genders—one for every human—I don’t know what word to use. Here’s a thought on that…”
“See what I mean? There you go off on one of those tangents hitting the endless circle of thoughts in your head.”
“No, this one’s worth it. It just popped out. Since there are so many who want to say there are multiple genders, and since the media accept a new definition of gender that excludes biology, then I suggest we use numbers. You know, someone asks, ‘What gender are you?’ and you respond, ‘Seven,’ or ‘536,’ or ‘six billion, four hundred fifty-three million, three hundred seventy-two thousand, nine hundred eighteen.’ Yeah. Let’s use numbers to get around having to invent a name for every gender or to use the limited number of 26 letters in the English alphabet. Of course, we could use the Telegu alphabet. Got more vowels, 16 of them and 41 consonants, not to mention the three vowel modifiers.”
“Geez, do you ramble. Go back to Sophia.”
“So, Sophia made what’s being called a ‘cooperative painting.’ Sold for almost $700,000. Sophia is into making musical compositions, too. Sophia performs in public, by the way, on demand. Does that make Sophia a robot slave? The hypocrisy runs rampant. See, I don’t have any qualms about saying that I use my vehicles to transport me. Yes, I like my truck and my Jeep, but they are just machines, and I like them because they both work efficiently without looking like a human being. When they stop working, they’ll go to the junk heap. You know those piles of broken cars you’ve seen along roads, those junkyards. Now imagine the insensitivity of real humans when they see piles of Sophia heads waiting for recycling or for the sale of parts. Look what you’ve started, Hanson Robotics. We already know how desensitized to images of broken and torn bodies soldiers of real wars become and teenage boys—sorry, gender number two in general—become through virtual wars on their X-boxes. Now, we’re all going to drive past piles of discarded anthropomorphic robot bodies and heads. Geez. This is getting even more complicated. Can I say anthro about anything? It’s Greek for ‘man.’ Can’t say hermaphroditic, either, since that limits the genders to those of Hermes and Aphrodite. Anyway, decapitated Sophias lying in piles along highways, that’s got to desensitize anyone.”
“While you rambled, I looked up Sophia. * Aren’t you happy that robots will be able to replace common laborers? People can just sit around while the Sophias work. Isn’t that the goal? I heard a Speaker of the House say that with universal health care people won’t have to work and will be able to pursue their dreams of being an artist or a writer, a sculptor—geez, now you have me doing it—sculptress, excuse me, human-who-shapes rock, metal, or papier-mâché into whatever, maybe even an imitation of an imitation, like making a statue of Sophia that seems to be an imitation of a human female. Is female allowed? Since Sophias are machines, then using them is no more slavery than your driving your Jeep or truck over rough terrain. And by the way, as far as art goes, don’t you already buy products made through mass production by machines because you like the products’ shapes, colors, or functions? That’s largely how your Jeep was made. Robots. You accepted the work of robots and bought the cars they—may I say ‘they’—built. Does that mean you favor robot slavery? You know those robot slaves as you call them rarely make a mistake except for malfunctions caused by worn-out parts and human errors, as in bad input, bad output, junk in, junk out. And look at the advantage for humans. As the Speaker said with regard to freedom provided by universal health care, people who used to work on assembly lines producing cars or dish washers can now pursue their dreams of becoming stay-at-home artists.”
“You’ll see. This robot stuff is different from the assembly line, which makes me think that that long held belief in the dignity of work will disappear like those assembly line workers. Sophia will send us down a different path, not just down an assembly line. Heck, aren’t there even robotic partners for intimacy? You’ll get tired of the Sophia stuff someday, probably when it’s too late, like after half the world’s citizens are named Sophia, and their proliferation as ‘citizens’ will enable them to take over political control of humans. She—or it—gets that name ‘Sophia’ from the Greek for ‘wisdom,’ but I wonder about the wisdom of making her—or it or gender-number-seven-billion-eight-hundred-million-twenty-seven, or whatever gender Sophia will choose to be. And don’t think you’ll get the answer to that question of gender by looking under Sophia’s dress, or by watching from the shadows as Sophia walks through the car wash for a cleaning. I can’t wait for the ‘I told you so’ derisive question, ‘Don’t tell me you’re marrying a real human?’ to start popping up in conversation. You’ll see. Robot dignity will equal or surpass human dignity. Robot accomplishment will be declared ‘creative, intuitive, ingenious.’ But when everyone owns a slave called ‘Sophia,’ humans will become willing slaves of robots, have slavish minds, and live assembly-line lives of boring repetitiveness.”
Notes:
*For a summary article on Sophia’s latest accomplishments, see
Zen Soo and Alice Fung. 3 April 2021. Robot artist sells art for $688,888, now eyeing music career. TechXplore online at https://techxplore.com/news/2021-04-robot-artist-art-eyeing-music.html Accessed April 5, 2021.
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