Robots, Droids, & Artificial Friends
Read to the bottom to find out why this is the end.
Three recent encounters . . .
Robots. Last week, we happened upon an amazing deal on some simple, robotic kits. The first one simply runs forward waving its arms and is solar-powered. The girls put it together quickly.
Another warns of intruders entering the room. I’m wondering if it might be modified as a physical distancing alarm . . . or one that reminds my daughter to go back and wash the dishes when she enters her room after a meal. ;)
These robots are not the ones of our dreams (or nightmares). But they’re lovable in their simplicity.
Droids. In celebration of my last born becoming a teenager, this past month was dedicated to Star Wars. Eleven movies and two seasons of The Mandalorian later, we are fans of the galaxy far, far away. (May the 4th be with you.)
Droids are prominent and memorable characters. They often provide the humor by being emotional — something unexpected from droids. C-3PO, for example, is constantly worried and afraid. They also are part of some of the most touching moments — like when C-3PO says, “Taking one last look, sir, at my friends” as he prepares to make the ultimate sacrifice.
A common theme throughout Star Wars is how our feelings (fear, love) and connections with one another influence human behavior (both positively and negatively). We expect droids to be exempt from such feelings and to execute orders without feeling. Droids are programmed for a purpose — they are translators, mechanics, protectors, and servants. Some execute orders without feeling. And, yet, the ones we come to love are the ones who express their emotions and follow the heart. Can droids even do “follow the heart”?
Artificial Friends. In March, I read Kazuo Ishiguro’s new novel, Klara and the Sun. Klara is a solar-powered Artificial Friend for Josie, a human girl transitioning into adulthood. Artificial Friends (AFs) are androids who look and act human, but are distinctive because everyone recognizes them as AFs.
Unlike in Star Wars, droid companions are confusing to some humans in Klara’s world. A neighbor asks the AF, “Are you a guest at all? Or do I treat you like a vacuum cleaner?”
Since the novel is written from Klara’s perspective, we see how an AF handles the emotions of humans. Sometimes she is overwhelmed by the expression of many emotions at once. But she handles each situation rationally and without feeling. Even when threatened with physical harm, she feels no fear (unlike C-3PO).
And yet, Klara cares deeply — seemingly beyond rational programming. She teaches those around her about love, sacrifice, and hope. She expresses whole-hearted trust in something beyond herself — in her case, the sun which (quite literally) gives her strength.
Four robot reflections . . .
Humans are not droids. But we often expect them to act like droids — completely rational and without emotion. This is a recipe for failure because feeling is part of what makes us human (and distinct from droids). We need emotional intelligence rather than emotional suppression.
What would it take for you to accept a droid as a friend? Though not yet as sophisticated, many are finding helpful companionship with artificial intelligence, especially during the pandemic lockdowns.
You don’t have to feel it. Not feeling it is not a valid excuse to avoid your work. Doing the right thing doesn’t require feeling like it. But, droid-like compliance isn’t the ideal, either. Would it be easier to do what we need to do if we didn’t have feelings? Or do our feelings help us do what needs to be done?
When we make discipleship about rule-keeping, we become droid-Christians. Following God must be more than keeping the rules (“This is the way,” says the Mandalorian) or following orders as if we’re programmed to simply obey like a robot. Instead, King Jesus was human (like us!) who had feelings (like us!) and seeks relationship (with us!). Allowing the Spirit of God to fill and guide us as Christians and the church means bringing our full selves into relationship with the King and with others.
As Reformed theologian Geerhardus Vos wrote (and artist Kate Vans shared this week): “Legalism lacks the supreme sense of worship. It obeys but it does not adore.” Adoration is more than thinking or believing the right things . . . it’s whole-bodied and includes the heart and emotions.
Revisiting Languishing
Last week, I shared Adam Grant’s piece on languishing and how to overcome it. I appreciated his response to criticism that the pandemic prevents flourishing and so we’re not all languishing, it’s just a hard time:
This response models Grant’s latest book Think Again (which has been on my bookshelf for a few months, but I keep bumping other books ahead of it). Now he presents his ideas in a new TED Talk about rethinking: What Frogs in Hot Water Can Teach Us About Thinking Again.
His point: our goals, identities, and routines can be really good and helpful today, but they can also be what holds us back tomorrow. We must open ourselves to rethinking what we do, who we are, and what we’re trying to accomplish to improve (illustrated in the diagram below):
Royal Living
Last week, the Good Morning America! television show featured Eswatini’s monarchy in its series on royal families. Her Royal Highness Princess Sikhanyiso — who is the eldest daughter of His Majesty the King; the Kingdom’s Minister of Information, Communications, and Technology; and an aspiring rapper — was interviewed about royal life and service. (Follow the link to watch the 5-minute interview.)
A few days before the interview, Her Royal Highness shared a video on Instagram showcasing her one-year old son’s birthday party. For another glimpse of royal living, watch her video:
Why this is already the end.
This newsletter just started, but this is likely the last edition. There are many reasons I decided to try it (which will likely lead me to revisit it again someday). I have a long list of topics to write about and books I’d like to share.
I get better when I process what I’m thinking in writing, reflect on what’s happening, and teach others. I enjoy the process and the practice of writing, teaching, and leading. And I approached this newsletter to help me improve.
I’m learning to see again and find my footing again as a leader and human in our current circumstances. This project was to be helpful in that process.
But, I think it may be an attempt to avoid facing the work that needs me now. I have other gardens to tend. And not droids or Artificial Friends to help.
So . . . goodbye for now.