The term “Artificial Intelligence” can conjure a wide array of emotions from people, ranging all the way from excitement to fear. Writers have been playing with the storytelling possibilities of robots and AI (and our relationship with them) since long before personal computers were an everyday reality.
In the past, when I’ve thought about A.I. characters, the first names that came to mind are all based in visual media, drawn from film and TV. Examples run the gamut from the Terminator to Rosie the Robot, the Cylons to C-3PO and R2-D2, Bishop in Aliens to Data in Star Trek; all of these characters showcase the wide scope of possibilities offered by A.I. characters. This encompasses simpler forms (like the Robot from Lost in Space) to more complex models (like Bender from Futurama, in all his sarcastic, narcissistic glory). It didn’t necessarily occur to me to think about examples of robots and AI characters drawn from books and fiction, for some reason…
Last year, after reading Brandon Sanderson’s Skyward, this changed. In the novel, he introduces readers to an Artificially Intelligent ship called MB-1021, nicknamed M-Bot. The book’s protagonist, Spensa, tries out the nickname “Massacre-Bot,” but M-Bot never accepts it. It’s at total odds with his programming—he just wants to collect mushrooms and tell people they have nice shoes. Now whenever the subject of memorable AI characters comes up, he’s the first one who comes to mind. He’s a delight, and one of my favorite aspects of the story; M-Bot may only exist as program codes in the ship, but he brings forth all my human emotions.
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Starsight
While reading along and watching M-Bot and Spensa’s friendship develop in Skyward and the new sequel, Starsight, I started thinking about other fictional AI characters that felt as lovable and charming as. M-Bot, in their own ways. If I could introduce M-Bot to other AI characters, who would I have him meet? What other AI characters in books would relate to him, and have engaging conversations?
Before we begin the list, I have to offer a nod to the work of Isaac Asimov, Robert A. Heinlein, and Arthur C. Clarke. These authors are, of course, absolutely foundational when talking about AI characters. Their influence is everywhere and all-encompassing…which makes it very difficult to pick just one character by any of them.
Instead, this list highlights AI characters that make me laugh and which haven’t gotten as much attention in the AI spotlight as those created by Asimov, Heinlein, or Clarke over the years. Minor spoilers for all the books discussed below…
Iko, The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer
Iko is an android with a glitch in her programming. This glitch makes her more humanlike in behavior, to the point of forgetting that she’s not human. Iko loves fashion and shoes, even though she can’t wear them when we first meet her. She is a loyal friend and encourages Cinder to take risks, which often drives the plot in interesting directions. Iko also exhibits quite a bit of sass. She will not be ignored, nor will she allow harm to come to her friends. I can see her and M-Bot enjoying extremely fun conversations about footwear, in between rescuing their friends from tough situations.
E. (for Egghead/Error), House of Robots by James Patterson and Chris Grabenstein
A book aimed more at middle school readers, this story uses illustration to help you fall in love with Egghead and his family. Invented by Dr. Hayes, Egghead is meant to serve as the eyes and ears for her daughter Maddie, who can’t leave the house without risking illness. E. has a rough time adjusting to his new life at first. Sammy, Maddie’s brother and E.’s companion for much of the story, is often embarrassed by E.’s actions at home and school, and nicknames him “Error” for a time. In time, however, they find their way and grow into a family. Elements of the story might remind readers of the Not Quite Human series by Seth McEvoy, but thankfully without the questionable ethics of Professor Carson. E. is a scout in many ways, like M-Bot, but both struggle to truly understand the humans around them, despite being built to help them.
Sidra and Owl, A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers
Readers meet these two AI characters in the sequel to The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, yet the two books stand on their own as independent stories. First we meet Lovelace (later Sidra), who was meant to be in control of a whole ship, but now is installed in a body unit, her abilities limited to one set of eyes to observe the world. Her adjustment, as she relates to this new way of experiencing the world, ranges from heartbreaking to amazing. Meanwhile, in a parallel story, we meet Owl, another ship AI who is trying to help keep a lost child alive in a harsh environment. She is a voice of reason and compassion throughout the story. Spoiler: Their eventual meeting caused me tears of joy. I think both Sidra and Owl could connect deeply with M-Bot over their mutual experiences of surviving in isolation in harsh environments. (Along with a sidebar where Owl and M-Bot chat about the challenges caring for young and stubborn humans. I’m chuckling at the thought of this talk…)
Murderbot, The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells
Murderbot has an intimidating name and appearance, but really they just want to watch media serials all day. If only the humans they try to protect would stop making stupid choices. The choices a SecUnit with a hacked government module can make are limitless. Thankfully, Murderbot decides to continue to watch over the humans under their care. Murderbot has an internal monologue so filled with sarcasm and wryness that I can’t help but enjoy their thoughts. They have a sense of humor that’s full of irony, which I appreciate greatly. Murderbot and M-Bot don’t have much in common on the surface, besides their similar names, but I could see them bonding over the crazy humans and the lengths both will go to protect their charges. I’m betting M-Bot would love the media serials too, once Murderbot gets him hooked…
Marvin the Paranoid Android, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
A suicidal, deeply depressed robot might seem an odd choice for this list, but I think M-Bot could help Marvin put his “brain the size of a planet” to good use and maybe feel marginally less depressed during their time together. Droll British humor is not everyone’s cup of tea, yet I really enjoy the snark Marvin brings to the HHGTTG books. I want to hug him, even though he would not enjoy it. Marvin is a survivor; he turns up when not expected and against the odds. He can also destroy any hostile robots by just talking to them. Marvin has an impressive set of skills that are totally not appreciated by the bipedal beings he typically has to support on the Heart of Gold.
Finally, just for the record, I would also love for M-Bot to have an encounter with R2-D2 and C-3PO. However, I’ve never read the Star Wars novels and stories, so I’m not sure which series of the now non-canon Expanded Universe is the best one to highlight the robots just being themselves…
What robots/AIs would you like to see M-Bot have a conversation with? And if you haven’t read the Skyward books yet, which artificial intelligences do you think would make for the best mash-up pairing?
Deana Whitney—Callsign: Braid—is a Sanderson Beta reader, a historian, a cook, and an avid reader. Known as Braid_Tug on Tor, she is working on another Cosmere Cuisine article.
Well, I suppose now I have some books for my reading lists :)
Data is my favorite Star Trek character too (along with Q; so, naturally, the episode you mention happens to be one of my favorites!). I love his poem about Spot :)
I have a group of characters who are birthed underground by a giant dragon-god
I am sadder than ever you don’t have a US publisher! My Kindle cries out in pain and agony.
I always found the twist in the archetype between Spock and Data to be revelatory regarding the state of the human condition in the 60s and the late 80s. Spock, much like western culture in the 50s, was trying to be less human, less emotional, more intelligent, more predictable, to achieve an unacheivable ideal of what a human might be able to become.
by the 80s, like Data, we were trying as a society to become more human, to get back some of what we’d given up in the pursuit of the less emotional, more predictable ideal.
I also feel that, in retrospect, outright giving Data emotions in Generations was a bad move that undermined the emotions he didn’t even realize he had (but that we loved about him) in the series.
@3 , you make an interesting point, but I’m not sure I share that perspective. While Spock as a character always pursued purity of logic and purging himself of emotions, the series itself seemed to more take the side of the human characters — or, if not all the way to McCoy’s perspective, at least Kirk’s, who could use logic to inform his decisions but also felt comfortable trusting his instincts. In the episode “The Galileo Seven,” I seem to recall the takeaway being that logic alone couldn’t get you out of every jam.
Long story short, I tend to think that both Spock and Data, from the creators’ points of view, are just two different means of exploring what it means to be human and celebrating the better aspects of ourselves. YMMV, of course.
-Andy
@3 I would say that Spock is more a child of the 50s than the 60s, with his quest toward logic and intellect. And I don’t remember the 80s as being a time when people were trying to get in touch with their emotions. I remember it as a time of materialism and reactionary politics. But your larger point is spot on–Spock and Data were each trying to be something they were not, and it was fascinating to see the two of them struggling in their pursuits.
Good characters are a cornerstone of fiction–but even better are characters who grow and change in interesting ways!
Re: Spock & Data comparison, there’s that conversation they have during the 2-parter “Unification” about their different journeys. In reference to Spock choosing the Vulcan way of life and at times repressing his human emotions, Data points out: “In effect, you have abandoned what I have sought all my life.”
When I first watched TNG I was studying computer science and AI. I had a long argument with my TNG-obsessed housemates that Data’s search for emotions was a bogus cliche. An android who says “I want” has already expressed an emotion. I felt (and still feel) that emotions are the bedrock and prerequisite for a personality, any artificial intelligence that interacts effectively with people must have emotions (or their equivalent in computer terms). The irony about Data, as with the original Pinocchio, is that he is the most “emotional”, sensitive, empathetic character on the Enterprise; Picard and the others are constantly trying to avoid hurting his “feelings”, in spite of his insistence that he doesn’t have any.
I got over my pique and learned to love Data. But as I thought about it, I realized that EVERY robot in science fiction (except killer robots) wanted to be human. Pinocchio is the model personality for robots (and other almost-human characters) in literature. In most of Isaac Azimov’s stories, the robots try to achieve human status; in “The Bicentennial Man” one literally kills himself to achieve it. In the movie “AI” David goes on a quest to become a real boy. In Bradbury’s “I Sing The Body Electric” the robot grandmother is a more “human” grandmother than a real one. In “Frankenstein” the pathos is the monster’s doomed desire to be an ordinary human, shown when he plays with the little girl. In “Aliens”, Bishop turns out to have more character and bravery than the humans even when torn in half. The Tin Woodsman in “Oz” wants a “heart”. In the “Twilight Zone”, “Outer Limits”, and original Star Trek, androids are constantly aspiring to be human (or sometimes under the impression that they ARE human) and failing. And the dramatic irony (and pathos) in all the above works is that the mechanical man already IS human in the only way that really matters, in his emotions.
The reasons we like the Data character (and other Pinocchio robots) don’t really bear close examination. Our egos are flattered that these beings with such superior capabilities feel themselves our inferior. Data, who can bench-press a shuttlecraft, read the complete works of Shakespeare while Picard takes a pee, and learn to tap-dance perfectly in a single 10 minute lesson, says that WE are his ideal. There’s hubris for you. Actually, for Data or any other robot to be a sympathetic character in a plot, he pretty much has to be subordinate to humans. Otherwise, even if he is completely benign and trustworthy, he is just plain scary. Would you really want a bunch of Datas competing on an equal basis with humans? Would you like to go up against one in a job interview?
So Data is eternally incomplete, forever aspiring to our station in life but (at least in his own eyes) forever failing, our inferior, and so we are able to feel comfortable with him and love him, our Man Friday.