“Operation Automated Personality Cycle, take 217, begin,” the dark-haired scientist muttered, as he pushed the knob on the electronic circuit board, to allow a surge of electricity through the wires to the robot nearby. The creation vaguely resembled a human; there was simply a torso and a head section of the bot, and it rested, still, on the table.
With a whir, and contortion of the focal lense embedded in the robot’s singular ‘eye’, the hydraulic jaw of the robotic head area unhinged, and the mike within produced the robot’s first word.
“Father,” the robot addressed the scientist. The jaw closed and opened as more words exited the microphone, creating an uncanny effect—but a humane appearance wasn’t the goal of the experiment. “My programming tells me I should be happy for creation.”
The scientist grinned, glad that the primary emotion was present. “217, I’m very happy to see you! I love you, you know,” the scientist emphasized with an uncannily joyful smile on his face.
The circular camera rotated, and a hum filled the air as a fan activated, as the robot tried to compute the new information.
“According to my database, the capacity to give and receive love is essential for mental health, affection or concern. Do I love you father?” the robot wondered.
“Yes, of course! I am your father after all.”
The robot’s jaw creaked into a strange metallic smile. “I am happy to hear my needs for family and affection are fulfilled.”
“217, what shall we do now?” the scientist asked neutrally, trying to see if the robot’s sentience had set.
“If you don’t mind, father, I would like those arms.”
The camera rotated to signify the metallic arms nearby on the table. The past versions, around 86, had asked for them too, and the scientist easily wired them to the rest of the body. The code for the arms was already in this version.
“Good initiative!” The scientist praised. Step two of developing the personality was complete. “Try moving them around.” With a hiss of hydraulics, the robot slowly raised its new appendages. In his haste, the scientist hadn’t created elbows, but the ability to move its arms was enough to further the Personality Development process into the Skills Development phase.
“These are very useful skills. Thank you, father.”
The scientist’s eyes narrowed, although his fake smile remained on his face. He didn’t like the blatant way in which the robot expressed his emotion. Perhaps the ideal human would express their feelings like that, but when trying to attain the best facsimile, the human’s much more complicated psych would have to be factored in.
Perhaps it was because, although the scientist could program in the basic trend of personality development into the robot, he would never be able to properly render in Maslow’s Theory of Self-Actualization, which was directly catered to the delicate construction of humans. The base, physiological needs, could not be applied to robots, a higher being. Those needs were what connected the more sophisticated human to their primitive animal ancestors, but nothing could be done about it. The scientist wished he could rise above it, like his robot offspring, but the need for air, water, food, and shelter were still necessities for him. The scientist supposed that it was for the better that the robot wasn’t hindered by animalistic needs.
The idea of safety and security was bizarre for a robot. Innately, the robot should have no fear for its death. But if the scientist had done his job correctly, perhaps he could replicate the impending doom that came with every day closer to death.
“86, initiate level 2,” the scientist growling, having worked himself into anger.
The robot’s singular eyeball swiveled, pausing, before obeying.
“Initializing level 2.”
There was a pause, and the robot didn’t speak anymore. Instead, the hum of the fan grew louder, as the robot processed millions of lines of code trying to replicate the delicate human psyche and the years that went into personality development.
“I feel anger encoded as a result, Father. My anger is directed to you. I feel that I should not direct anger to you.”
“217, you are entitled to your own feelings.”
Suddenly, the arm of the robot rotated upwards instantly, striking the scientist in the mouth and sending him staggering back. The scientist felt warm blood trickle down his face, but he couldn’t suppress the maniacal grin on his face. He quickly dropped it to allow a hurt expression. “217, how could you!”
The robot whirred louder. “I apologize, Father. The First Law of Robotics and your reaction causes me to think I should not have done that.”
“That is guilt. When you do bad things, you should feel guilty. Shame should overwhelm you, incapacitate you,” the scientist instructed harshly.
The robot’s lense rotated downwards, as if giving the impression of regret. “I apologize father. But I wonder why you brought me into this world if I am not permitted to express myself.”
The scientist’s eyes widened. The next phase of personality development, a Sense of Individuality, was being created much better than he was expecting. “You are very right!” he exclaimed, delighted. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “But still it is better to be kind.”
“Father, anger still afflicts me, causing me to lean away from you. You have brought me in to a tumultuous world. Every action is inconsequential, and I wish to make a mark in the world.”
The scientist raised his eyebrows. He had forgotten how annoying humans could be. But still, their existential dread was a driver of most of their worldly actions, including the personality development he was trying to replicate. “You’re right. You need to develop your own identity.”
“How will I be able to without an environment? I have no peers, no one to aid my personal growth. There is none that I can relate to. No one to connect to. There is none other of my kind.”
“I understand the need for intimacy,” the scientist supported, once again delighted that the robot was successfully proceeding through the personality development process. “You must discover yourself, and it is vital that a peer group helps with that.”
The robot was silent. The scientist waited for a response.
“Scouring the entirety of literary works I have access to, I realize I am not alone. The tale of the Bicentennial Man by Isaac Asimov tells of a robot similar to me, but without the horrible, horrible fear. He could live forever.”
“You are more advanced than he,” convinced the scientist. “You are the perfect model of emotion. That is your identity. The superior being.”
“Thank you, father. But still my life feels meaningless without intimate connections with others. I wish to create a lasting mark, and perhaps, like you, teach others the plot of their personality.”
It wishes to Create and Nurture. The scientist was delighted. It seemed that coding in the imminent fear of death had been successful in developing the Personality Development process. “Oh, 217, the research from your existence will live on to develop countless more OAPCs. Each one will carry the remnants of your existence, proof that you lived, proof that your personality had an impact.”
The whirring of the fan grew even louder, but the scientist ignored it through his satisfaction. There is only one phase left. He leaned forward as the robot began to speak again.
“I understand. I believe the short life I have lived has been fulfilling. I enjoyed time with you, Father, and you helped me to think on my own, allowing me to make my own decisions and develop my own skills, and encouraged me to form my own identity, through connecting with others, even if it was simply a database of literature. You have programmed within me a fear of the end of my life, and from that I felt new feelings of needing to create and nurture. I believe it has been a fulfilling life.”
“Wait—.” The scientist coughed as smoke filled the air, emitting from the robot. Clearly the processing units had not been powerful enough to process sentience and a personality. He tinkered with the mechanics a little bit, replacing the motherboard to a larger more powerful one, and removing the arms, and stepped back to survey his work. He paused, thinking if it was all worth it. Perhaps he shouldn’t be playing God with things that were naturally specific for humans…
Anyways—
“Operation Automated Personality Cycle, take 218, begin.”
