Data initially is suspicious of Tainer, but eventually he believes her story. She knows too much about his past and how he was created. Yet when they perform together in a concert, Data’s suspicions increase.
What makes Data suspicious of Tainer? She plays her piece in the concert perfectly. Exactly the same as when they practiced earlier. No human musician, no matter how well trained, is capable of duplicating a performance note for note, nuance for nuance. Dr. Tainer performs with precise pitch and intonation. Only a robot or android can achieve such exactness.
In addition, no two musicians play identical renditions of a classical piece. Interpretations vary widely, depending on a performer’s personality, state of mind, and physical health, as well as the influences of specific teachers. An excellent musician does far more than play the right notes at the right speed. Data deduces that Dr. Tainer is an android because she performs as he does on his violin, with absolute precision and absolutely no human substance. In a sense, music is one of the things that makes Data more and less than human.
Data is perhaps the most fascinating creation in the entire Star Trek universe. We know more about him than just about any other character featured in the shows. In the best tradition of science fiction, Data’s adventures explore what it means to be human. In addition, Data provides an excellent look at the future of artificial intelligence and robotics research.
Data is a far cry from the human-dominating androids of the Kirk episodes. Despite his stereotypical android mannerisms*, he has very human qualities, all of them positive. He’s kinder than almost anyone we know. He’s gentle and sweet, decisive and firm. He doesn’t lie. He’s one of the most lovable characters from any Trek series. It’s easy to understand why Geordi considers Data his best friend. If the computers of the original series were all either stupid and servile or controlling and dangerous, Data represents a departure: a genuinely utopian vision of the ideal computer. He’s extraordinarily powerful yet completely unthreatening. That the show’s creators can invent a Data, and the audience can embrace him, says a great deal about how much our views of computers have changed in a generation.
Is Data possible based on research being done right now? Will he be possible in fifty years? Three hundred? Or is Data pure television, a creation mirroring our hopes and dreams, but physically impossible?
Since we’re considering perhaps the most complex single machine in the entire Federation, the answer is also complicated.
In “Inheritance,” Data plays a violin. This is not an activity we normally associate with artificial beings. Still, we’ve seen Data’s hands move across the computer keyboard with inhuman speed. While no one’s comparing typing with playing a violin, the motor skills involved are quite similar. Both require precise finger movements in a specific order. Though moving a bow requires hand and arm coordination as well, Data often types with one hand while doing other tasks at the same time. He enters commands into the keyboard with the same exactness with which he plays the violin. Both operations require skill, but neither depend on emotions.
Data, who constantly strives to appear human, expresses various emotions on his face as he plays the violin. But these expressions are no more than animatronic reactions designed specifically to appeal to his audience. As an android, he’s incapable of playing with spontaneity and feeling.
A machine playing a musical instrument? Impossible—unless you’ve listened to player pianos, mechanized violins, or orchestrions; specialized devices built to duplicate the motions made by human operators using such instruments. Still, they’re a far cry from Data bowing a Prokofiev violin sonata.
Data needs fingers capable of the most delicate, sophisticated motions made by any human. Fortunately, being robotic, once he performs the task a single time, he can duplicate it, following the exact sequence of actions. Once taught a sequence of dance steps, Data performs them perfectly from then on. His only problem is modifying the routine or creating a new pattern. The same applies to painting. He can perfectly copy numerous masterpieces but creating his own composition is a much more difficult task. While creating mechanical fingers capable of such precise movement seems impossible, it’s not dream stuff. We’re already entering the robotic age.
Robots have been used in factory assembly lines for years. One difference between them and their science-fiction counterparts is that real robots don’t look like people. There’s no reason for them to have two arms and two legs. Built to perform specific jobs, they often use multiple arms, are firmly rooted to the factory floor, and use a variety of heat and magnetic scanners.
NASA has been one of the leading developers of robots during the past few decades. It’s a lot cheaper and safer to send robots on long space missions than humans. Instead of a manned flight to Mars, which would have taken decades to prepare and launch, we had Sojourner, the Mars Pathfinder robot, walking across the sands of the red planet. An interesting aspect of Sojourner was its use of shape-memory alloys to perform certain scientific experiments. These unique metals exhibit large changes in shape when heated or chilled. In Sojourner, SMAs created motion. Invented by Geoffrey Landis and Phillip Jenkins of NASA, SMAs rely on Flexinol “Muscle Wire” (1.2-inches long by .006-inches thick, with a breaking strength stronger than stainless steel) to provide a force capable of lifting over 11 ounces.1
Three hundred years from now, an advanced form of “muscle wire” could allow Data’s body to operate with flawless perfection. Most likely, Data’s version of muscle wire will be made from microscopic components. In a world of nanotechnology, invisible computers will create invisible gears, levers, cables, and beams that perform instructions issued by invisible processors.
For example, here’s a possible scenario. Data’s positronic brain” executes the stored routine for a favorite concerto. The routine issues commands to his nanotechnology gears and levers—the invisible components that make his arms and fingers move. A command to play a B-flat results in his left finger pressing the violin string at the B-flat position and his right arm moving the bow across the correct string. This is the kind of thing we see in “Inheritance.”
Think of Data as an advanced form of digital music player. There will be no need for an android in three hundred years to move a bow across a violin string. He can simply emit the music digitally, with all human interpretation built into his rendition. Indeed, he’ll be able to play multiple renditions of the same piece, and even interpret a new piece as if he were a famous human musician. An android as sophisticated as Data will go even further in technique than the best human violinist. He’ll be able to merge the styles of the finest human violinists and emit music that reaches new heights.
Perhaps Data’s fingers will move on the instrument and perhaps his right arm will move the bow, but we doubt it. The only reason for these fake movements by an android is for show, that is, to fool a human audience into believing that the android is playing the violin. The crew knows that Data is an android, and there’s no way to fool them into believing that he’s anything else.
Like other facets of Star Trek, Data’s technology represents part of what’s happening today but doesn’t make the leap to tomorrow.
The robots that helped clean Three Mile Island were not the least bit humanoid, but they performed tasks impossible for humans. Strangely enough, such servo machines are nearly nonexistent on Star Trek. Humans do all the dangerous work. Data is the only functioning robot, and except for his odd skin color and somewhat unusual notions, he could be mistaken for a man.
The technology used by NASA and other robot manufacturers is already filtering into everyday life. Super micro, remote control servo motors are available to independent robot makers for constructing robotic hands with dexterous fingers. These same servo motors allow experimenters to build small walking robots. Hobbyists can buy mini-serial-servo controllers that handle 64 remote control servos at one time. The software associated with the controllers is easily linked to a computer and, depending on disk space, can
record and program billions of moves. If run by a positronic brain with unlimited storage and FTL processing (we take these elements as givens, though as noted in Chapter 2, they’re somewhat ludicrous), that’s more than enough motions for Data to play the violin flawlessly or do just about any other task.
Even the simplest human action, such as walking, turning, or holding a pencil, requires the coordinated effort of hundreds of muscles and reflexes, all controlled by the brain. More complex tasks need thousands of actions. Creating a robot capable of duplicating human activity once seemed an unattainable goal. But with the incredible leaps in computer memory and CPU speed, what once appeared impossible is fast becoming probable.
Data can produce twenty-three paintings in six hours and twenty-seven minutes. He uses both hands, one brush in each, to create two paintings at a time (“Birthright, Part 1,” TNG). He simultaneously listens to and absorbs more than one hundred and fifty classical music compositions (“A Matter of Time,” TNG). Using “the Fourier system,” his eyes appear to have random blinking patterns.
Data’s body resembles that of an adult human male. As we learn in “The Most Toys” and “Disaster,” it’s composed primarily of nonconductive tripolymer composites and molybdenum-cobalt alloys. Combining this nearly indestructible skeleton with powerful microscopic motors and a muscular system using “muscle wire” makes him incredibly strong; in “Power Play” (TNG), Data puts one hand around Captain Picard’s neck and lifts him completely off the floor. He exhibits similar feats of strength in a number of Next Generation adventures. Still, why doesn’t he use his strength to help his human shipmates more often? Perhaps only for aesthetic reasons: the special effects involved might look too corny.
Data contains a functioning respiratory system, though he has no need to breathe. He uses it primarily for thermal regulation (“Brothers” and “Birthright, Part 1,” TNG), implying that it serves as his system fan. Indeed, Data claims that he can function for extended periods inside a vacuum. Yet Data seems to breathe like any ordinary human—his nose isn’t huge, he doesn’t suck large amounts of air into his mouth or through his ears. When he’s in very hot environments, the amount of air brought into his body through his nostrils probably wouldn’t suffice to keep him cool. A sophisticated computer today requires steady, cool temperatures to function without system error. If you have a machine with multiple processors and powerful disk drives, you need fan ammunition inside your tower. Data’s brain is more than a multiple processor, and his body contains unknown yet advanced equipment: certainly, Data requires a highly controlled system temperature.
He does indicate, in “Disaster” (TNG), that a power surge of half a million amps would cause a system failure in his internal processors and a meltdown of his primary power couplings. Half a million amps is a huge amount of current.
The word amp is short for amperes, which is the number of electrons moving past a point within one second. One ampere of current implies the flow of 6,243 quadrillion electrons per second. Force, which is measured in volts, is the pressure difference between two points. Without a pressure difference in a circuit, current doesn’t flow. Here’s a very simplified view of this idea:
Think of the current as air. Think of the two points on the circuit as two tires. Think of the arrow as a hose. Clearly, if one tire (Point A) has twice as much pressure as the other tire (Point B), the air in the hose flows from the first tire into the second tire. Air flows until the pressure in both tires is equal.
Current is the same. It moves from the circuitry point with more pressure to the circuitry point with less pressure. One volt forces one amp of current through one ohm of resistance. (Resistance opposes the flow of current/electrons.) In 1827, Dr. Georg Simon Ohm defined what became known as Ohm’s Law: The amount of current in a circuit is directly proportional to the voltage applied to the circuit and inversely proportional to the resistance. In addition, we have Watt’s Law: The power (as measured in watts) in a circuit equals the current (amperes) multiplied by the voltage (ohms). If, for example, we have a 150-watt light bulb drawing 1.5 amps, then we require 100 volts.
Now let’s try to determine how much current is implied by half a million amps, the amount that melts Data. We don’t know Data’s resistance, only that his positronic brain has “several layers of shielding to protect [him] from power surges.” The average computer today might use 5 or 3.3 volts. Voltages in computer systems are shrinking. We’re told that Data runs on “microhydraulic power.” Either he uses microvolts (10-6) or nanovolts (10-9).
Because Data’s built from nanocircuits, he probably requires nanovolt components. To keep things simple for now, let’s assume that when we add up all the resistance in Data, we have a full 1 volt. Remember that our 150-watt light bulb uses 100 volts. Let’s apply the numbers to the algorithm:
So based on our 150-watt light bulb, we figure that Data short circuits if we apply power roughly equal to that of 3,333.33 ordinary 150-watt light bulbs (500,000 / 150 = 3,333.33 light bulbs). Data supposedly fries at 500,000 watts. The typical person might generate a few hundred watts just typing a Data chapter on the keyboard. The human brain consumes approximately the energy of an ordinary light bulb.
Something is wrong with our assumption about the 1 volt. We must move to micro or nanovolts to reduce the amount of energy Data needs and generates. At 1 microvolt, Data would generate 500 watts, which is closer to the human body.
Still, it’s puzzling. It seems that Data would have a total system meltdown long before the current hit half a million amps. And if he somehow runs on close to half a million amps, he must glow in the dark; or as our friend Bill Tate says, “Data must have one heck of a glowing personality.”
These are very crude guesses, of course. We’d like to know how much power Data generates autonomously to run himself. And given that Data has only some undefined shielding to protect his positronic brain and only breathing as an internal cooling system, how does he withstand power surges of more practical amounts, such as any number below 500,000 amps?
Perhaps Data does generate 500 watts of power using a total of 1 microvolt of pressure. Perhaps it requires four cooling-fan noses to keep his system from shutting down. Perhaps he needs giant nostrils to suck in the air to keep his legs from turning off during system overheating. If he has giant nostrils, though, nanotech diseases could enter and destroy him. Not good.
Data’s system cooling probably will occur through skin pores, not nostrils; but we must take his nostrils and lungs as concrete system designs. His humanoid composition is a given of Star Trek.
We’re told that Data’s circulatory system distributes biochemical lubricants throughout his body. But we don’t know what the lubricants are or what they do. We can only assume that they somehow oil his parts. Perhaps they are released periodically by nanomachines in Data’s body. But what if the nanomachines are off slightly? Would the lubricants slosh throughout Data’s internals, causing major system damage? He hasn’t any method to repair himself aside from running internal diagnostics of his positronic brain. Even Geordi, who knows better than anyone else how to repair Data, would surely be clueless when it comes to a catastrophe such as an over-internal-lubrication job by some malfunctioning nano-equipment. Geordi uses large wrenches to repair Data, not nanosurgical devices.
Besides, why does Data require biochemical lubricants? What does the bio aspect bring to the mix? Data comments that he rarely needs the services of Dr. Crusher (“Data’s Day,” TNG), which implies that sometimes he does need medical help. In what cases, and under what conditions, does Dr. Crusher service Data? These are things that we’d love to see explored in future Star Trek movies.
According to Data, his circulatory system regulates his microhydraulic power and provides him with a human pulse. We’re clueless why Data needs a pulse. If it’s solely to make him fit into human crowds without being noticed, then why is his skin greenish? We’d notice a man with green skin more quickly than we’d feel his pulse.o Yet Dat
a claims that nobody has ever asked him if his hair grows, and indeed, nobody’s ever noticed that he breathes. What were those computer scientists doing when they first found Data and sent him to Starfleet Academy? Didn’t they notice that the only android in existence breathes and regulates the growth of his own hair? Or that he has a pulse?
While it’s clear that a machine like Data can’t be constructed today, if the science of robotics continues to advance at the speed of general computer technology, then creating a robot like Data should be possible within the next century or two. But as more than one mad scientist in old SF movies has learned to his despair, creating the body isn’t enough. It’s the brain that matters.
In Star Trek, mankind’s greatest scientists have been unable to produce functioning androids for hundreds of years. They have one amazing android called Data, but they don’t understand the technology that created him. We’re asked to believe that the reclusive Dr. Noonien Soong was the only scientist who ever perfected a positronic brain. That no other cybernetist among the many billions of inhabitants of the Federation has ever been able to duplicate his work. And that androids other than Data don’t exist.p
In “Inheritance,” Juliana Tainer says that Data is the fifth android built by Dr. Soong.q The first three artificial beings were total or partial failures. The fourth was named Lore, but he was taken apart by Dr. Soong when he exhibited strong antisocial behavior (“Brothers,” TNG). Since creating an android body three centuries from now doesn’t appear to be an insolvable task, the problem obviously was in their brains.
In “The Offspring,” Data builds another android like himself. This new android, whom Data considers his child, is named Lal and is similar to Data but in some ways more advanced. Still, her positronic brain fails and she dies. Not even Data seems to know exactly how his mind works.
The Computers of Star Trek Page 10