Who Wants to Marry a Robot?

Photo of FemiSapien courtesy of WowWee

• 
• |
• 
• |
• |
• 4

Click here to launch a slide show of the dolls that have paved the way for robotic companions.

My favorite doll used to be Lola. Her eyes were blue and beautiful, which didn’t stop me from poking them so hard that for most of my childhood, one eye looked perpetually up while the other gazed straight ahead. I was so used to her upturned eye that when my grandmother wanted to fix it, I hesitated. Lola didn’t talk, she didn’t move on her own, and she couldn’t see straight. But I didn’t need all that.

Since those days, there has been a shift from dolls that look like humans to dolls that act like them. The shift has been gradual. Dolls started off with automatically moving parts (arms and legs that propelled dolls like Baby Thataway forward with a flip of the switch), language (chatter of pre-recorded words with the pull of a string), and gastronomy (they ate, they chewed, they burped). Some dolls later gained bodily functions so evolved that they “pee” and "poop," according to advertisements and several revolting YouTube videos.

In the ’80s and ’90s, a new generation of increasingly life-like toys emerged. Thesenewer creations, some of which were designed by roboticists, made demands on a child’s attention by using social cues that humans are wired to respond to—facial expressions, face tracking, voice tracking, eye contact. These give the appearance of some form of consciousness.

Some researchers, like Peter Kahn at the University of Washington, have examined whether kids think interactive dolls are alive, and the implications that has for how they treat the dolls. In other words, would a child think twice about poking the eye of a doll like Lola if her face could appear hurt? Kahn probed this question using SONY’s electronic dog, AIBO, which moves on its own and solicits responses, like a live animal. He found that children were more likely to mistreat a stuffed dog (which does not express anything other than what the child imagines) than an AIBO (who gives the impression of having a mind of his own). Other researchers like Sherry Turkle, director of the MIT Initiative on Technology and Self, explore the nature of our emotional connection to robots. Robots are anthropomorphic, and because they are designed to mimic social behaviors that we are used to responding to (following us with their gaze, crying), they inspire us to feel and care for them as we might for a pet.

These robotic dolls aren’t just for kids. Some are designed as supplementary companions for the elderly, or for those who might need comfort during a hospital stay.

In their studies, Turkle and her colleagues gave a robotic doll called My Real Baby and robotic seal called Paro to nursing home residents to boost morale. Some of the residents responded well to the robots: they were curious, engaged and used the robot as a point of social interaction with people. The robots also helped relieve residents’ anxiety.

The relationships were more complicated, though, than the ones elderly people develop with pets that are similarly given to them for comfort. The elderly talk to these robo-dolls, telling them stories as if they understand, Turkle says, which raises questions about human vulnerability. “There’s a lack of dignity there,” because “people make meaning by telling these narratives. But telling them to robots—where’s the meaning in that?” Turkle also describes a recurring scenario in which a robotic doll is given to a nursing home resident for about an hour, and comes back with its mouth covered in oatmeal, because the resident has tried to feed it.