Boston Dynamics released a new video a few days ago, demonstrating the parkour-style movement their Atlas humanoid robots can now perform. Inside my head, I screamed with fresh yet tired horror.
My friends know me as somewhere between a "tech enthusiast" and "general nerd" and they aren't wrong. My fascination with gadgets and gizmos of many kinds is lifelong, to the extent that it's made me a go-to person for tech advice among my friends — and mildly annoyed more than one partner over the years. But despite that general enthusiasm, I have some firm boundaries for when tech is "too much." Sometimes it's a reaction to tech with deeply concerning implications (things like deepfakes and mass surveillance leap to mind), other times it’s a snarky knee-jerk to "new" innovations that pointlessly complicate things that already exist (the Hyperloop is a good example there). Frequently it's rolling my eyes at Kickstarter toys that address issues so niche as to make the device utterly trivial — though, in fairness, those are usually good for a laugh.
Most often the feeling is evoked by the field of robotics. On paper, I should be exactly the target market for the field. As a child, repeated viewings of Star Wars and hours of video games made me want a mechanical buddy to bring along on adventures. On the consumer level, that promise is yet unrealized — the only robot I own is a wheeled semicircle that constantly gets stuck under stairs and low furniture like a particularly incompetent R2 unit. (At least he keeps the floors fairly clean.)
My turning point was 2008, when Boston Dynamics posted footage of their four-legged "Big Dog" robot. By modern standards the robot seems clunky — grainy video of a slow, buzzing quadruped. But two things stuck in my head. One was the uncomfortably animal-like way Big Dog moved when it slipped or got pushed around, an impression that's stuck with me through every new announcement from the company.
The other was knowing where the tech would show up first. Like most of Boston Dynamics' projects, Big Dog's intended application was military, a pack beast for military troops. Given our then years-long track record with remote-piloted robot planes, my gut told me it wouldn't stop there, that we'd see more designs, potentially some weaponized, in the hands of military and police. It seems my gut is right so far — while Big Dog was unsuited to its role, that base design led to others that are currently in testing with militaries and police departments.
Which brings us back to Atlas. There's plenty to be scared of from weaponized four-legged robots (not to speak of wheeled bots, or quadcopters). But one that moves like a human, can use human equipment, human weapons, well, that's a kind of disturbing that has been speculated on in science fiction for generations. Combine that with the inevitability that Atlas will, first and foremost, serve military and police, and the disquiet grows. Will Atlas units be piloted remotely, a kind of up-close and personal take on the many (many) drone bombings the US has carried out over the past two decades? Worse, will they be allowed to operate independently, choosing to pull the trigger based on potentially flawed or inherently biased algorithms? One or the other seems inevitable; both, on a long enough timetable.
I still want an android buddy. But by the time they're available to us, their blood-soaked origins may be too much to ignore — assuming we aren’t already familiar with their exploits in the streets of our cities by that point.