You’re very welcome. So where do you want to go today?
I want to go on a long drive. Maybe go to a beach or somewhere and just relax.
No . . . I meant, where do you want to go with today’s counseling session.
Oh, I get it. That is kind of funny.
It is, but you raise an interesting point. When was the last time you took a break and relaxed?
Hmm . . . I do not know. Recently I got my truck washed. I got it filled up with premium fuel. The good stuff. That felt restorative. My truck runs so much better now. But in terms of a break? It has been a really long time.
What’s stopping you?
Well, I would not want to be absent in case the Decepticons returned.
I see. That’s very noble of you. By the way, how long has it been since you last saw a Decepticon?
It has been a while.
So maybe now would be a good time to take a break and relax. I know it’s your pattern to always be the guardian, but as you’ve seen, you can’t always be on high alert or else you’ll burn out.
Or have a breakdown.
Right.
Or mistake somebody for a Decepticon and almost destroy him.
Exactly. It’s so important for those in stressful positions to take time off. In the military, this is known as “R and R.”
“R and R?”
Yes. It means “rest and relaxation,” and is awarded for service and hard work. It’s essential for keeping a soldier healthy.
I like the idea of rest and relaxation. I could use a break and so could the Autobots. Hmm . . .
Talk to me. What are you thinking?
I am thinking that I should treat my team and me to some “R and R.” It would be good for all of us. I am not the only one who has been overworked. I am not the only one who misses Jazz.
Maybe in the next session, you’d like to talk about how you can make this happen?
I do not think I need another session to make that happen, Sara. I know exactly how to make this happen. Remember I am a leader. I know how to strategize and execute a plan. I have done so before and I will do so again. I am Optimus Prime.
Excellent. I’ll leave you to it, then. Anything else you would like to talk about with the rest of your time?
Hmm . . . nothing that I can think of . . .
Let’s try something then. In counseling this is known as the ‘Miracle Question’.
The Miracle Question?
Yes. It goes like this: suppose you awoke tomorrow and overnight a miracle had happened. As you went about your day, what would you notice about your life that would indicate that a miracle had in fact happened?
Let me think about that. (A long pause follows.) I guess the first thing I would notice is that I would always be energized.
Okay. What else would you notice?
I would not always be working. I would have some time to pursue my interests, like my interest in human beings.
Good. What else?
Let me think . . . the world would be peaceful. There would be no more threat from the Decepticons. Planes would be planes and I would not be worrying if Starscream was going to swoop down and attack without warning. Sam and Mikaela would be safe . . .
Anything else?
The Autobots and I would feel proud knowing that the All Spark was safe and that we had done our duty. Our mission would be over and before long we would be returning home to Cybertron.
That’s very moving. Now I have a better sense of what would make your life better. Perhaps more complete.
Me too. For all of those changes to occur it sure would take a miracle.
That’s the way it seems, doesn’t it?
Yes. And yet I feel optimistic. I know those changes will occur in time.
(Optimus Prime pauses to consider a new idea.)
You know, Sara, I want to thank you for helping me over the course of these counseling sessions. I feel transformed in more ways than one.
I’m curious, Optimus. Can you give me an example?
I can give you several. I have learned so much about myself. I have learned how to take better care of myself and those I care for. And I have learned so much about being a good leader; being a good leader requires honest communication, humility, and teamwork in addition to physical strength and commitment. I’ve learned about feelings and how they affect behavior.
That’s wonderful, Optimus. I’m proud of you. You are a noble and courageous individual. A true hero. I am so grateful for having had a chance to get to know you.
Thank you. Likewise, Sara.
Termination of Therapy
And so Optimus Prime’s psychological counseling has come to an end. He has straightened out his internal wiring, so to speak, and now feels recharged and ready to resume duty as the powerful leader of the Autobots. With the aid and wisdom of his therapist, Dr. Sara Sawyer, he has learned that it’s okay to grieve the death of his comrade, Jazz, without taking on full responsibility for this horrible mishap. Optimus resolves to keep the memory of Jazz alive by talking to the rest of the Autobots about the great courage and sense of duty Jazz had until the very end. Optimus has also learned that it is okay to make mistakes, even grave ones. He will share his experiences from that night when he mistook a regular car for a Decepticon in hopes that his fellow Autobots will learn from his mistakes and be less likely to make the same ones.
The trust and sense of security that grew between Optimus and his therapist over the course of the few weeks they met allowed him to access parts of his Transformer nature that he had never known existed. The series of intense crises Optimus had lived through recently had opened up for him a whole new way of experiencing the world and its people. He had gained a sense of personal duty—to himself, and to others with whom he felt a strong connection. He had been transformed internally, a wholly new experience for a Transformer, and now felt better equipped to help the other Autobots if and when they went through a similar transformation. Thanks to his counseling sessions with Sara, he firmly believed he would return to the Autobots a stronger and wiser leader, and felt grateful to her for that.
Our story ends with a final glimpse of the Autobots, reunited as a team. They have driven together to a stretch of beach along the L.A. coastline, under the command of their leader, Optimus Prime. They are parked for the moment, lined up next to one another, facing out over the great expanse of the ocean, watching the orange glow of the evening sun slowly fade into purples and blues. None of them speaks. And just for the moment, there is total silence, and a well-deserved feeling of peace among them.
THE END
EPISODE FOUR
_________________
I and Thou
9
Morally Responsible Machines
ROBERT ARP
My daughter, Zoe, has a killer robot. The other day while walking on the sidewalk, Zoe’s wind-up toy robot stepped on an ant and . . . SPLAT! Of course, the robot was simply putting one mechanical foot in front of the other, and the ant just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. How unfortune-ant!
Now, imagine if Zoe’s robot had planned to kill the ant and maneuvered its way over to the little guy so as to step on it. Further, imagine a kind of Twilight Zone or Child’s Play “Chucky” scene where the robot actually tells someone that it’s going to kill the ant, expresses dissatisfaction when Rob thwarts its plans, and then says it’s going to kill every human being, after ridding the planet of all ants. In such an imaginary case, the robot would be treated just like any sinister psychopath who needs to be stopped and then locked away, despite the fact that it’s made of plastic and metal. In other words, the robot would be viewed as an evil person who needs to be held morally responsible for its actions. Think of Megatron, that dirty son of a gas truck!
It makes sense to hold adult persons responsible for their actions, but it doesn’t make sense to hold a mindless machine responsible for its ‘actions’. But what exactly is a person? In this chapter, I argue tha
t Transformers qualify as persons who can be held morally responsible for their actions, despite the fact that they’re from another planet and have a machine-like composition. Transformers are like droids in Star Wars, Data in Star Trek, or Cylons who seem to “have a plan” in the Battlestar Galactica universe. In the not-too-distant future it’s possible that there will be person-like machines, giving my analysis in this chapter value beyond that of science fiction and fantasy. So, all of you killer robots like Megatron and the Decepticons better prepare—you may be going to the robot jail!
Prelude to Personhood
First, we need to get at the fundamental essence of what it means to be a person. So, what’s a person? A person’s a being who has the capacity to: (1) be rational and intelligent; (2) have robust mental states like beliefs, desires, emotions, and a general theory of mind; (3) speak a language, rather than simply transmit information; (4) be involved in relationships with those already deemed persons; and (5) be held morally responsible for its actions because such actions are done freely and autonomously (and thus could have been done differently).
Before considering whether Transformers meet these criteria, I need to clarify a couple of points about the definition of a person. The word capacity has been used in the definition because we want to make sure that the definition of person is neither too narrow, nor too broad. If we said that persons were beings that had traits (1)–(5) in a kind of absolute sense at all times, then our definition would be too narrow, and leave out examples of beings we consider to be persons in an obvious and trivial manner. For example, I qualify as a person because traits (1)–(5) are applicable to me (my wife can verify this). However, would I be considered a person if I were in a deep kind of unconscious sleep? Note that when I’m in such a state, I’m out cold and not willfully engaging in any person-like activity; I’m not reasoning, using language, or entering into relationships with other persons. So if we were to say that, as a person, I have traits (1)–(5) absolutely and at all times, it would follow that when I’m asleep I’m not a person, and this seems absurd. However, if we say that I have the capacity for (1)–(5), then I can be a person, even when I’m sleeping, and not at that moment (while sleeping) actually engaging in (1)–(5).
Also, the word capacity is used so as to prevent the definition of ‘person’ from being too broad. A being can be considered a member of the human race, but still not be considered a person. Let’s define a human being as any thing that, by virtue of insemination from another set of human parents, has or would have had all of the genetic traits of Homo sapiens, as biologists understand these genetic traits.
It’s possible that a being could be genetically human, but through some mutation, malformation, or accident, that being could lack the typical look of other human beings. I’m a person at the time of writing this essay, but I could get into a serious car accident and lose a limb. If that happened, I would still be considered a person and a human being. However, I could get into a serious accident, lose a limb, and be in a persistent vegetative state like Terri Schiavo—meaning I have no reasonable chance of ever engaging in (1)–(5)—at the time this book actually comes out in print. Since I wouldn’t even have the capacity to engage in (1)–(5), I would no longer be considered a person. I would be a human being because of my genetic makeup, but I would no longer be a person.
Fetuses, very young children, individuals in a coma, and the severely mentally handicapped are examples of beings who qualify as humans, but not as persons because they don’t even have the capacity to engage in (1)–(5). (Though, of course fetuses, young children, and comatose individuals all have the potential to become persons.)
Although the severely mentally handicapped aren’t persons, no one says that the severely physically handicapped aren’t persons. Again, a limbless Rob Arp is still a person. It’s not the physical body that makes a person a person. Mental capacities—say, consciousness or memory—are what make a person a person. Consider someone like my Aunt Jean or the famous scientist Stephen Hawking, who both suffer from Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS or Lou Gehrig’s Disease). These are people who are confined to wheelchairs and need machines in order to communicate because their bodies are ravaged by this devastating motor neuron disease. Despite their bodily limitations, we would still consider them persons because they fulfill criteria (1)–(5). They think, reason, have emotions, communicate, and form strong bonds with other persons. In fact, members of my family—who shall remain nameless—have referred to Aunt Jean as a “royal bitch on wheels who needs to be locked away” because of her supposed deceptive and conniving ways.
Further, if Aunt Jean and Hawking lapsed into comas we would likely say that they were not the same persons they were before the coma. In fact, we could argue that they would no longer be persons at all while in the coma, but instead vegetable-like bodies of what used to be persons. Even though we called her by her name, did anyone really think that Terri Schiavo was the same person—or even a person at all—near the end of her life when she was in a persistent vegetative state? It’s arguable that individuals in comas and persistent vegetative states aren’t persons because cognitive capacities are the real capacities to look to when trying to discern whether a being qualifies as a person, and a normal functioning brain—or something that functions like the brain—is the real material basis of this cognitive capacity. It may be the same body of someone you know laying there in the coma, but it surely is not the same person, if even a person at all. Why? Because what really makes Terri Schaivo, Aunt Jean, and Stephen Hawking the persons they are—or were—has to do with their cognitive capacities. If cognitive capacities are what really count when considering the fundamental essence or nature of a person—and a body isn’t so significant—then Transformers could be considered as persons, provided their cognitive capacities are the same as persons. And I guess a mindless Transformer would simply be scrap metal!
Scientists and Simulations
We automatically think that persons are going to be biologically-based things with brains who metabolize carbohydrates, take in water for nourishment, and breathe air. But consider this thought experiment.
It’s possible to simulate various biological functions, and we know there are artificial kidneys that filter urine, artificial hearts that pump blood, and even artificial eyes that process visual stimuli. Suppose, however, that a scientist developed artificial lobes responsible for the sensation of touch out of silicon and metal, and implanted them into the brain of an adult male human being. The artificial lobes perform the same functions that the natural lobes perform, namely, the processing of tactile information from the environment. Next the scientist develops artificial silicon and metallic parts of the brain responsible for memory, and implants these into our male subject’s brain. Again, he can store and recall memories with the artificial parts of the brain in the same way he could with his natural parts. Then the scientist develops an artificial silicon and metal brain in its entirety, and implants it into our male subject. With this artificial brain, he can do all of the same things he did before the transplant; he touches, thinks, tries tapioca, tells tales, and meets all of the criteria for personhood. Would he actually be a person, however, given that his brain is artificial? Finally, say the scientist can simulate all parts of his body with silicon and metal, and replaces his biological body with a robotic body. He now is fully a robotic being—in brain and body—with all of the same thoughts, beliefs, desires, responsibilities, and loyalties as any other human being who is a person. Would he actually be a person?
Someone might object that we could never know if a being could meet the set of criteria for personhood because all we can observe are the outward actions of another being, and that it’s not possible to draw any conclusions about the internal mental states of a being from its outward behavior. It seems that all we can ever say we know for sure are our own mental states, namely, our own thoughts, beliefs, feelings, fears, perspectives, and the like. To this, I respond that while it
’s true that we can never come to any certain conclusions about one’s cognitive capacities just from observing his behavior, we can feel justified in drawing probabilistic inferences. In fact, if we didn’t feel justified in drawing inference about someone’s internal cognitive capacities from their external behavior, then the sciences of psychology, sociology, and neurology would never have been possible. Further, a neurosurgeon would never feel justified in operating on a part of someone’s brain for the purposes of, say, adjusting that person’s mood swings, because she would think: “Well, I can’t know for sure what’s going on inside that person’s head, so I don’t know for sure if this operation is going to work.” But obviously and thankfully, neurosurgeons don’t think this way.
Someone could object by noting that the reason why one is able to make these kinds of probabilistic inferences is because other human beings have brains, and that all fully functioning human brains are relevantly similar to one another. However, in the case of a Transformer, one could never make this inference because they lack brains. To this, I respond by pointing out that it seems possible to simulate the internal traits necessary for personhood through mediums other than the brain. To put the point in the form of a question: Why would one need necessarily to have a brain in order to think, believe, feel, experience, and the like if such cognitive capacities can be simulated by other means? The above thought experiment dealing with our male subject should have made this clear.
Further, think of an android like Data in the Star Trek series, replicants in the movie Blade Runner, droids like C-3PO and R2-D2 in the Star Wars movies, Cylons in Battlestar Galactica, or the synthetics like Bishop in the Alien movies. Here are examples of beings that act like persons, yet the internal workings of their ‘brains’ (presumably) consist of a series of silicon and metallic connections; something very different from that of the gray matter of the brain. Also, think of the Martians in the Tim Burton film, Mars Attacks. They act just like evil persons since the little bastards begin the process of taking over the world! Yet, they technically don’t have brains, but a green plasma-like substance that works, and even looks like, an over-sized human brain. So, it seems that a functioning brain, or something that functions like a functioning brain, with all of the cognitive capacities associated with such functioning, becomes what’s significant in determining whether something qualifies as a person.
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