Robots – Society

Scientists and engineers around the world are laying the foundations for robots that may one day challenge human intelligence. What makes them do it?

In 2002 the competition was held in Japan at the same time and in the same place as the human World Cup, albeit in a baseball stadium—but then, robots aren't snobs about such things. Research groups, mostly from universities, sent their creations to the competition, where they were sorted into leagues. For Andreas Hofhauser, a sixth semester computer science major at the TU, it was already his second time as representative of his team. "We were very optimistic because we had completely renewed the hardware," he says.

Moreover, the Robocuppers as the team calls itself, had been honing their software since 1998. Whereas some robots seek success by heading wildly towards the goal without any idea of where they are on the field, the machines from Munich use their "heads." With cameras for eyes, they can observe the nine-by-four-meter playing field, analyze the environment by means of image recognition software, and determine the location of flags, the opposition's goal and the difference in colors between the red ball and the green playing surface. The four metal players exchange information on their positions by means of radio links so that they can pass, score goals and win—assuming, of course, that all goes well.

The well-equipped Robocuppers squared off against 15 opponents in the mid-sized league—the top league where machines of up to 50 × 50 cm² move autonomously. The organizers' hopes were pinned on machines like these. Their aim is extraordinarily ambitious. They hope to build robots that will be able not only to play against, but to beat humans in the 2050 soccer world championships.

"I'm rather skeptical about that," admits Hofhauser, "but it is a great feeling to see something that I've worked on progressing according to plan." The 120,000 spectators who watched the four-day World Cup in Fukuoka were fascinated too. While the machines competed, a humanoid Honda P3 robot danced on a stage.

"The games are just as exciting as real ones," claims Hofhauser. And there's just as much tragedy, he might add. After just two games, the men from Munich were traunced, their normally nimble robots moving as slowly as sloths. Hofhauser and his team believe that a new cable failed to function properly. Whether that was the only fault will have to be determined by intricate detective work. "Naturally we were deeply disappointed by our performance," says Hofhauser.

Some of the students had been working for three years on the little machines. Nevertheless, the setback hasn't dampened their enthusiasm for robotics. They have other reasons for being commited to their work. "It's all about scientific progress," says Hofhauser, "and having fun. Why do children play with building blocks? For the same reason we build robots—the desire to make things."

Mirroring Humans. Many scientists around the world believe there is a deeper reason for all the interest in this topic. They believe it is the secret desire of every engineer to populate the world with a double of him or herself. Robot expert Professor Wolfgang Coy from the Humboldt University in Berlin is one of them. "Many a robot fantasy is a fantasy of immortality. Many of us would simply like to make a 'backup' version of ourselves," says Coy. There is much evidence to support this theory of an ancient wish for a mirror image. The dream of a self-made double is thousands of years old. The Jewish cabbalists gave form to this longing in the 11th century with the myth of the golem, a clay being that was animated by a secret sign on its forehead. While masculine golems went off to cut wood, their female counterparts stayed behind at home—where they were suspected of providing sexual favors to their masters. Even this forerunner of the modern robot fantasy thus emerges as a male fantasy, always ready to serve, always obedient—the robot as a slave.

Slaves with Souls? The word robot first appeared in Karel ?apek's 1921 play R.U.R. Rossum's Universal Robots. Characterized by an socialist theme, the book tells the tale of artificial men—robota—who are forced to do slave work. When the book was translated into English for an American production the word spread across the globe. The recurring plot in this and other tales of robots is that industrial slaves break their dependency and attempt to revolt. They develop souls and wind up threatening their makers. Modern cinema classics like Metropolis, Blade Runner and Terminator put this familiar vision into moving pictures.

According to Professor Peter Gendolla, a specialist in contemporary literature from the University of Siegen, Germany, when it comes to science fiction, what we see at the movies and on our television screens are zombies made in our own image. Gendolla, who has written many essays on the subject of artificial humans in film and literature, finds that stories about androids emerge most often at times when a group or a society is overwhelmed by its own technological progress. We identify with the creature, perfect in its artificiality, that threatens us. This enables us to deal with feelings of pain or loss of control. For example, during the advent of industrialization, individuals became little more than cogs in the impenetrable machinery of production. Jean Paul described the 18th century as the century of machine-people. They repeatedly appear in the novels of Eichendorff and E.T.A. Hoffmann.

Blurring Boundaries. In the 20th century the boundaries began to blur. In film and literature, humans and machines become so alike as to be indistinguishable. Authors of all stripes are now playing on uncertainties created by this gray area. But researchers, visionaries and some fanatics are also concerned with the question of whether robots will one day be able to develop their own emotions. Will they even fall in love, as in Steven Spielberg's Artificial Intelligence? One computer scientist at Munich's TU even ponders whether humans are actually highly developed robots—simply the sum of biochemical and physical processes. Professor Coy, who also studies philosophy, isn't particularly disturbed by this line of thinking. "We're certainly not robots," he says; but then adds thoughtfully, "If we are, we're so well programmed that we don't notice it."

Obviously, scientists at Munich's TU still have a way to go before their protégés begin to challenge human capabilities. But perhaps one day their metallic soccer players will be able to celebrate victory and suffer the pain of defeat. Maybe they will even rebel against their masters. For now, however, their creators are simply focusing on winning the next World Cup.

Andreas Kleinschmidt