Sherry Turkle’s book “Alone Together: Why We Expect More From Technology and Less from Each Other” is primarily concerned with the ways that technologies are becoming more and more ingrained in our society. She is especially interested, particularly in the first part of her book “The Robotic Moment: In Solitude, New Intimacies”, with the advancement of robots and the questions that arise from these advancements. Can robots think? Can they feel? Do we want them to?
All of these questions are very interesting, but one of the things I was most interested in is the difference between American and Japanese responses to robots. While I agree with Turkle that relying too much on robots is, simply put, sad, one of the more fascinating things to discuss in terms of the chapters is the different mindset between two cultures. First, Americans seem to be slightly put off by robots that are “as if” caretakers or programmed to perform as caretakers. (Caretaking is just one example. There are, of course, many uses planned for robots in the future.) In Japan, however, “enthusiasm for robots in uninhibited” (146). One wouldn’t expect, I imagine, religious differences to become so apparent in a book about technology or a chapter about robots, but I think that this is one interesting point that arose from Turkle’s discussion. Though she didn’t discuss religion in depth, she did mention it in passing (especially when discussing the “playing God” belief). Toward the end of the chapter, Turkle notes that the Japanese often imbue inanimate objects with humanlike qualities: “even worn-out sewing needles are buried with ceremony,” she explains (146). This, I think, is in stark contrast with an American view of life. Though I’m not well versed in Japanese religion, I imagine that their traditional religions are much more accepting to animism than the most popular religions in America. Christians, making up the largest part of the US population, would probably never attribute human characteristics on an inanimate object (except, perhaps, bread and wine). This, I think, is the reason that American’s are so disturbed by the idea of robots—because anthropomorphism isn’t a traditional part of our culture, at least after we’ve “grown up.” This, I think, is directly linked to Turkle’s notion that some people worry about creating too life-like robots because they would then be “playing God.”
The second most interesting argument that Turkle raised was the idea of performance. Having read (and at least partially understood) Judith Butler’s “Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity,” I myself tend to agree with Turkle’s colleagues who say that “performance is the currency of all social relationships and that rather than a bad thing, this is simply how things are. People are always performing for other people” (121). This is certainly the case when it comes to gender, and gender can definitely be performed as we learned through reading Celia Pearce’s “Communities of Play: Emergent Cultures in Multiplayer Games and Virtual Worlds.” (Many of her subjects chosen to perform the “opposite” gender through their avatars.) Robots are, perhaps, even better at performing gender than people: a robot can be programmed to act in stylized ways that represent what one believes to be the essential qualities of a male or female. Furthermore, though we attribute particular genders to sexes, because these genders are performed rather than essential, a robot (not having a sexed body) would not be inclined (would not be able to be inclined) to perform any way other than the way it’s been programmed. (It’s even more interesting to note the use of “programmed.” We use that word to describe people: “His brain was programmed that way.” Gender is programmed as well, though not through the brain but through social construction.)
Finally, I’m interested in the ways that robots can be compared to avatars. Turkle writes: “As most of these students see it, a next generation will become accustomed to a range of relationships: some with pets, others with people, some with avatars, some with computer agents on screens, and still others with robots” (119). If Pearce has anything to say about it, I’m sure she would say that we’re already accustomed to relationships with avatars—both as avatars and by having relationships with other people’s avatars. When playing a game or chatting online, it’s hard to determine where a person’s “real” personality ends and the “avatar personality” begins. I’m not sure there is a difference. What does that imply about robots? Trukle frequently mentions that this will be something to be dealt with in the future. Where will a robot end and a person begin? Turkle noted that Parkensons’ can be treated by implanting a chip into a person. Are we already becoming more robotic? Going back to the religion thing: I’m a determinist. I don’t think people have free will. Everything that has happened since the beginning of time has worked toward shaping who we are today. In admitting this, I think that the line between human and robot becomes more blurred, and to me, Turkle has raised more questions than she has provided answers.
Questions:
In what ways can a robot perform better than a person?
On a more personal note, what kind of reaction did you have when first reading about the robots meant to be companions? Did you react in a way similar to Turkle or more like the inventors?
Are you as disturbed by the sex robots as I am? What does this say about our feelings/attitudes toward women?
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