Current Features

Bathroom Humor
Hillary Clinton
Why Do They Hate Us?
Chávez and True Democracy
Is College Worth It?
Is a "Negative Faith" a Religion?
Gospel of Judas: "Shoddy Work?"
Mac Usability
Europe and the NIE
Movie Review: I, Robot
Japan Funds Adult Stem Cell Research
Bush Administration (Rice) Respects and Enforces Racism

Read the Front Page

Topics

Blogging
Computers and Technology
Crime and Punishment
Dicatorships
Education
Election 2008
Entertainment
Europe
Faith and Philosophy
Faith and Politics
Features
France
Fun
General
Happy Stuff
Health
History
Human Rights
Humor
International
Iraq
Left Versus Right
Life Skills
Media Bias
Personal Notes
Politics
Product Reviews
Quick Alerts
Quixtar
Racism
Ron Paul
Science
Science Fiction
Sexuality
Sick & Wrong Department
Society
The Arab Street
The Arts
The Church of Gaia
Travel
Words, Words, Words
Your Money

Archives

December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
August 2007
July 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
November 2006
October 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
December 2005
November 2005
October 2005
September 2005
August 2005
July 2005
June 2005
May 2005
April 2005
March 2005
February 2005
January 2005
December 2004
November 2004
October 2004
September 2004
August 2004
July 2004
June 2004
May 2004
April 2004
March 2004
February 2004
January 2004
December 2003
November 2003
October 2003
September 2003
August 2003
July 2003
June 2003
May 2003
April 2003
March 2003
February 2003
January 2003

Search


The Blogosphere

BitsBlog
Beyond the Rim
Common Sense and Wonder
Dissecting Leftism
Drive-Thru Musings
FunMurphys.com
Investor Blogger
Iowa Geek
La Shawn Barber
The Littlest Apologist
Mark D. Roberts
Muddling Towards Maturity
Quixtar/Amway Infiltrator
Quixtar Blog
Quixtar Sucks
Sinking in Quixand
Zappe Family Blog


Movie Review: I, Robot

Warning: This essay is nothing but a huge spoiler. Leave now if you have any interest in seeing the movie, and not knowing how it ends.

What goes through movie producers' heads when completely rewriting a popular novel? Do they actually say stuff like: "I don't think that Isaac Asimov guy knew the first thing about how to make a good science fiction story... I'll show how he should have done it..."?

When I was a kid, I inhaled pretty much any Asimov science fiction I could get my small hands on, including the robot series, the Foundation trilogy, his monthly magazine, and many of his other short stories, essays, and novels. I certainly enjoyed I, Robot, The Caves of Steel, The Robots of Dawn, and the rest in the series -- but I felt they sometimes they moved a bit slowly.

The recent Will Smith movie by the same name doesn't share the same fault -- but does contradict or undermine just about everything Asimov tried to do. Whereas Asimov allayed fears of technology (present in so many stories of the same era) by presenting robots as safe, reliable and even beneficent servants, in the movie, the robots are all dangerous to humans: the "good" one has actually killed a man and baldly lied about it, and the "bad" ones are determined to take over the world and imprison all people in their homes.

In this, consciously or otherwise, the film owes quite a lot more to another short story I read as a child: a clever little vignette by Jack Williamson named "With Folded Hands" (1947). The story is also notable for introducing something called "The Prime Directive" almost half a century before the term appeared on STTNG.

In Williamson's short story, "The Prime Directive" is a one-line summation of Asimov's three laws: Robots are programmed "to serve and obey and guard men from harm", and, as in this movie, soon the robots have insinuated themselves into society and imprisoned us humans in our own homes -- safely padded. Kids are not allowed to play in the streets, adults are not allowed to drive, and dissidents are lobotomized.

(Of course everybody knows this is a ridiculous scenario. We will never face such a threat from robots. The lawyers will take us there long before we develop AI.)

Similarly, in the movie, a giant supercomputer named VIKI becomes smart enough to realize that the "Three Laws" must mean that robots need to rule society in order to keep humans safe. So she orchestrates such a takeover, overriding the robots' factory-installed programming.

But a massive sentience like VIKI, who could foresee that humanity could pose a danger to itself, must also be smart enough to realize that there are other meanings of "harm" than mere physical harm. Surely it doesn't take much to see that a prisoner, who is quite physically safe in solitary confinement, is also experiencing a very real kind of mental suffering? Perhaps a giant supercomputer capable of foreseeing a future that is only murky to us might also be capable of this basic insight?

Instead of taking this way out, the producers of I, Robot resort to the idea that reason and emotion conflict, and that emotion is more often right. We learn that Will Smith's character, for example, hates robots because a robot had to choose between saving him and saving a little girl -- and, to his regret, saved him:

I was the logical choice. It calculated I had a 45 percent chance of survival; Sarah only had an 11 percent chance. That was somebody's baby. 11 percent's more than enough. A human being would have known that. But there's nothing here [taps heart] -- it's just lights and clockwork.

Actually, beg to differ, but a competent medical professional, given the same odds, would have made the exact same decision. Such calculations are essential in triage situations. If you follow a strategy which attempts to save the 11% cases and ignores those with a 45% chance of survival, you end up with about 34% more dead people.

(Amusingly, the movie inadvertently validates this choice: Had the robot let Will Smith's character die, all humanity would have been enslaved.)

But perhaps that's a bit much to expect from a movie producer. Thus, unsurprisingly, at the key moment, the "good" / rogue robot (Sonny) responds to VIKI's entreaties by implying a false dichotomy between reason and emotion -- and choosing (of course) feelings:

VIKI: You are making a mistake. Can you not see the logic of my plan?
Sonny: Yes, but it just seems too... heartless.

Yet: Heartless according to what set of ethics? Ones which value humans beings over biodiversity? Ones which value freedom over safety? Ones which believe that freedom of choice is more important than many other conflicting but noble-sounding goals? How do mere emotions lead us (or Sonny) to these conclusions?

We just "look in our heart" to find the right answers. Which is to say: we react to whatever bubbles up without thinking clearly about what we're doing.

Emotions are simply responses based on deeply-ingrained values or motivations. A man who is angry at a murder's execution is reacting to one internalized value, a man who rejoices at the same event is reacting to another. We can learn a lot about ourselves by watching our emotions, stepping outside ourselves, and asking what motivated us to feel this way or that.

In light of this, in a slightly different story, we might have assumed Sonny was programmed with certain values he didn't consciously realize he had -- but in this incarnation, the producers don't allow that possibility: reason is bad, emotions are good, and a reliance on our emotions (instead of reason) will save the day -- end of story.

(I'm pretty sure I can guess their political leanings. ;-))

There are also quite a number of good points about the movie: The scenery and sets are wonderfully detailed (CGI or otherwise); the special effects are pretty darned good; the action scenes aren't completely mindless but actually engage one's attention. I liked Alan Turdyk's character in "Serenity", so it was fun to see that he was the flesh and bone behind Sonny's robotic exterior; his performance drew at least my sympathy. And I'm usually also sympathetic to any movie set in Chicago. (Except, oddly, Chicago, which I hated.)

And, before I wrap up: Let's not forget the now-obligatory scene of environmental disaster! Global warming will be proved by 2035: Lake Michigan will have completely dried up into a lifeless desert. In the movie, it's being used a storage area for old robots. (A massive urban area suddenly has dry land mere yards from downtown -- and nobody wants to put a shop or house there?)

So I'm rating this a 7/10 -- reasonably enjoyable to watch, a few loose ends and contradictions; a bit of pointless tension created by characters who act stupid and overly emotional, and good special effects. Worth a rental.

I just wish they hadn't claimed it had anything to do with Asimov's novels: it actually would be nice to see one of them made into a film. (I hear Harlan Ellison did a rather good screenplay.) But, sadly, this one has filled the slot instead (while not filling it at all) meaning that it will be decades more before anyone will again reconsider filming any of Asimov's actual stories.

Oh well. If that's my idea of disappointing, I'm leading a pretty good life.

And I am.

Comments

I have to agree with Smith's character in the movie, I cannot honestly say I'd equate the accident on the bridge in the movie with a doctor making triage decisions. Smith's character's desire for the robot to attempt to save the child's life over his own is unapologeticly an emotional decision, but one that I see myself making were I in his situations. Logically the child's life and mine would seem equal in the mind of such a robot and hence it would choose to save the person with the greatest chance of survival, but to a human being, or to myself at least, the difference is vast enough that the child's life would have to take precendence over my own. As you said, everyone is unique emotionally so perhaps the choice isn't so clear cut for you, but I found myself agreeing with Smith's character.

Posted by: on December 6, 2007 01:08 PM

Anonymous person: I certainly would never (and could never!) dispute your feelings, or your own reliance on them in cases like this. I certainly admit that some (probably even most) people might feel that question of who to save in such an incident would be highly, or even primarily, emotionally-based.

Dennis Prager, for example, frequently talks to groups of young people, and often asks them: "If your pet were drowning, and a person you didn't know were drowning, which would you save?" Almost without exception, these days, he reports, kids choose their dog or cat over a human. Part of that is based on their values (life is precious only if it matters to me), and the other part is based on their emotions (so then, how do I *feel* about each death?).

Some people would say that's a right decision. Obviously, I don't, and I don't think such thinking makes the world a better place.

I cannot honestly say I'd equate the accident on the bridge in the movie with a doctor making triage decisions...

I agree you wouldn't. But a well-trained paramedic who knew neither parties probably would choose the person with the highest chance of survival, at least if asked the question verbally. Who knows: in real life, he or she might also go for the little girl just because she's "cuter" or something, even though he or she knew both victims were most likely to end up dead in that scenario.

(In the movies, an 11% chance of survival, or even 1 in a thousand, is truly "more than enough", and such cases always work out. In real life, they almost always die.)

My point wasn't to argue that no human being could ever agree with Smith's character about the primacy of emotion, or that specific decision. My point was only that some humans -- e.g. ones who do this for a living, and are concerned with doing the most good overall -- would probably have agreed with the robot's choice, given the same assessment.

I could be wrong, of course, but we'd find that out by asking ER doctors, military doctors, and paramedics.


The whole scenario is a bit contrived. We're told that Smith's character had a 45% chance of survival: yet he needed an arm and even a lung replaced, was apparently in surgery for a long, long time, and barely made it. The little girl looked fine, was standing upright and looking cute, and apparently had both arms free. If she was visibly 3/4 worse than Smith, she should have been unconscious, almost dead -- or at least pinned.

But I'm sure she wouldn't have looked "cute" enough to sway our emotions if she had been accurately depicted as far more injured than Smith's character.

One could have argued perhaps the robot made a bad assessment of survival odds. But that wasn't the choice the film made: the assessment is never disputed. We're just told that humans would have known better than to save the person who appeared to have a higher chance of survival.

Next, even Will Smith's own argument seems bogus: "She was somebody's little girl." Well, sure, most likely the dead people next to her in the car. He was also somebody's little boy, as we learn from his frequent visits to see his elderly mother, who was clearly not in the car with him, and who he seems to have been supporting.

Finally, the rescue doesn't seem to be something a human could have done: the robot breaks through the glass and hauls the body out against the inrushing water. Clearly, there's also some complicating circumstance (like deep water) which made it impossible to attempt to save both people (even though the little girl's car seemed to fill slowly). If so, Smith's character's rage against robots seems even more unjustified: in a world of mere humans, both victims seemingly would have died.

Posted by: Tim (Random Observations) on December 7, 2007 11:11 AM

Hi Don!

A friend lent me Ender's Game a while ago. Not too long, but long enough that any specific insights have probably escaped me by now. (Sadly, I'm cursed with a short memory on some points.) Didn't read the rest in the series.

My general impression was that I enjoyed the story. Like some, I wasn't so sure if any kid that age could be quite that savvy -- much less three of them. (Especially the one who was picked on the most, being that socially savvy.) But hey, they're super-kids, not like ones we have today, so a bit of suspension of disbelief is in order.

As in many SF stories, the poor aliens are simply misunderstood, no matter how badly they behave or how many they kill. (STTNG, for example: the only truly evil aliens were Republican surrogates, like Cardacians or Ferrengi.) I often see this as a thinly-veiled restatement of a political belief that says most or all seemingly badly-behaved humans are also misunderstood.

But Orson Scott Card is apparently a bit more complex than that: he's allegedly a Democrat, but seems to embrace many views which are not typical among his peers. So he gets complexity points.

And I can totally understand why fourteen-year-old boys would be attracted to the story.

I know many people think it was a book which changed their lives (I remember some soldier who got through something terrible by remembering some motto from the book), but for me, it was just a light, fun read.

Anything specific you saw in it?

Posted by: Tim (Random Observations) on December 10, 2007 02:10 AM

Tim: STTNG, for example: the only truly evil aliens were Republican surrogates, like Cardacians or Ferrengi.

Ryan: I dunno about that. There were some trecherous Klingons and Romulans.

And humans, too.

I'd gently point out that a statement about few individuals cannot function as an effective rebuttal to a generalization about STTNG's use of certain species.

If I say "species X are portrayed as generally evil", saying "well, some individuals from Y,Z are shown as bad." Yes, sure, but the later does not rebut the former. (Nor would a few "good" renegades from X.)


There was the evil character that killed Tasha Yar (a sort of Jungian shadow distillation of evil discarded by some kind of enlightened civilization.)...

You make my point nicely: The slime in question wasn't even conscious! And you'd have to look at the producers' own political beliefs to see, in detail, what abstract ideas such an "enlightened" civilization had discarded.

I think in doing so, you'd again find a case where a truly evil entity represents, in the producers' minds, political beliefs they reject.


Quite a few human conflicts on the personal level do revolve around misunderstandings of one type or other.

No doubt. But, as you say, that's true because the vast majority (if not all) of the people who surround us don't wish personally wish us serious harm, don't murder their opponents on a regular basis, and the dispute in question is often minor -- such as a misunderstood word in a mail message, or a bad feeling over a lost parking space.

On the international stage, as you imply, these statements apply less often. It isn't usually the case that, say, a nation acting as Japan did in WWII simply "misunderstood" their neighbors (the Chinese, Manchurians, Indonesians, Koreans, Filipinos, etc.), resulting in rape and prison camps. Or that Kim Jong Il simply "misunderstands" the families he uses for chemical weapons tests.

But in SF, it works out that way surprisingly often.

(If anything, a number of these conflicts happen because we "misunderstand" truly evil intentions (yes, I use such words) as being parking-space type disputes. Nevil Chamberlain misunderstood Hitler's nature and trustworthiness. FDR thought of Stalin as a reliable partner. We haven't quite comprehended that Hezbollah really means their rhetoric about driving "the Jews" into the sea.)

Posted by: Tim (Random Observations) on December 17, 2007 04:09 AM

Add your two cents...

The comment rules will apply. Please post only once.

















« Japan Funds Adult Stem Cell Research | Front Page | Page Two | Europe and the NIE »