If you have not seen
I, Robot, staring
Will Smith as Detective Del Spooner,
you might be surprised to find that it provides more
than a shallow man v. machine plot. While Spooner is
suspicious of the allegedly harmless robots, he finds
himself scoffed at by his colleagues. Early in the movie, he
tackles a purse-snatching robot running through a crowd.
Pleased that he had foiled the petty larceny, he is
humiliated when he finds out that the robot was rushing to
provide an inhaler for its owner suffering from an asthma
attack. By movie’s end however, his intuition proves
correct, but with an unexpected twist. With the goal of “a
robot in every home” closely reflecting the recent household
phenomenon of home computers, the movie plays on our fears
of “Big Brother” watching our every move. It also exploits
our contempt for being held back by those fears. We want the
convenience of computers and robots, and feel torn between
fear and desire.
The
real message of this movie, however, is not about what
robots may develop into, but rather what we, as a modern
society, have sacrificed in the name of progress—how much
we have become robots. Underlying the plot and the Big
Brother message, the movie also flirts with the deeper
questions of human consciousness.
The movie bears the same name as the late
Isaac Asimov’s anthology of robot
short stories. The fundamental premise of both the movie and
Asimov’s stories relates to dilemmas arising from the
Three Laws of Robotics:
-
A robot may not
injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human
being to come to harm.
-
A robot must obey
orders given it by human beings except where such orders
would conflict with the First Law.
-
A robot must
protect its own existence as long as such protection
does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
This
seems like an excellent plan, but Spooner can see the subtle
inconsistencies. In fact, he had experience with the
incongruity.
Soon
the audience realizes that something is missing from the
lives of people who are fascinated with robots. People no
longer share stories once vital to societal coherence. When
Spooner is told that “a robot cannot violate the laws any
more than a human can walk on water,” Spooner recalls an
important story, “There was this one guy a long time ago…”
Those working with the robots, even the attractive
psychologist Dr. Calvin, seem to be barren not only of
religious stories, but of emotion and humor. In an obvious
irony, the humans are becoming more robotic and the robots
are becoming more human, a not entirely unwelcome outcome
for Dr. Calvin. She insists that the robots are safe because
“they are not irrational.” In frustration, Detective Spooner
tells her, “You are the dumbest smart person I have ever
met!” He refers to her lack of
emotional intelligence as a defect, not
a benefit. Spooner also has to explain to Dr. Calvin his use
of the story of Hansel and Gretel; she has no reference to
such metaphorical connections. Society is missing emotion,
metaphor, and humor and people begin to trust the robotic
machines more than they can trust each other.
When
one robot begins to act human and violates the three laws,
Spooner knows that society is in serious danger. The robot,
Sonny, mirrors the story of
Frankenstein’s monster who struggled
to understand the why of his existence. Sonny, like the
monster, displays emotion. Spooner fears society’s misplaced
trust, and as more robots like Sonny begin to emerge, his
fears are realized as the mechanical world turns
chaotic—unprepared to deal with this added human quality in
their robots.
But
doesn’t this show that the rational (robots without
emotions) is safer than the emotional (robots with emotions
causing chaos)? We as humans know that emotions cause chaos
and cloud judgment. Spooner’s suspicion is rooted in a
tragic experience where a robot saved him instead of a
little girl trapped in a sinking vehicle. The robot’s
rational calculations indicated that Spooner had a greater
chance for survival than the little girl. Spooner, however,
knew that he might have survived on his own, but the girl
faced certain death because the robot made a calculated,
rational choice. For him this was a case of the robot’s
rational thinking clouding its judgment. Void of intuitive
emotion, the robot’s rationalism failed to make the choice
Spooner would have made - to risk his own life to save the
girl’s.
Evangelical and fundamentalist Christians complain about the
dangers of postmodernism, neglecting to see that it includes
an important critique of modernism’s dependence on a cold,
emotionless, rationalist approach to God. The emphasis on
faith being rooted in a rational assent to doctrinal
propositions yields a spiritual life without emotion. While
rationalism may calculate correctly on one level, it is only
one part of the human equation and minimizes the important
ingredients of human emotions and relationships. We don’t need
heart surgeons for broken hearts.
The
metaphors in I, Robot tell us the story of “we,
robots.” At the finale, the robotic brain chants: “My logic
in undeniable” as it attempts to protect and “save the
world” through restricting human choice. The human heart
knows otherwise—that freedom is not always safe, but it is
superior to rationalized bondage.
A
nice touch near the end is when Spooner’s grandmother is
released from being a hostage in her own home by a robot,
and she heads to church with her Bible in hand. It is good
to see that the movie recognizes our belief in Jesus is on
the side of emotion, metaphors, stories, and even humor.
Modern mechanics and rationalism brought us much
progress—and much pain. Rationality is not an enemy of the
gospel, it is often a needed component, but rationalism
alone can rob us of the Man who walked on water.
by Rachel Ramer |