Moral boundaries are being eroded by the rise of sex robots that claim to be “the perfect companion”
by Josephine Bartosch
Love in the electronic age T
he threat to humanity from robots is real, but our new mechanical overlords won’t come from an advanced alien civilisation: we will invite them into our homes. As servants or sex toys, robots will come packaged as a cure for loneliness or sold to us as devices to reduce
crime. The investment driving robotics is largely split between the military and masturbation tools for men; and arguably it is the latter which risks destroying civilisation.
Defending his work against critics accusing him of using the sex industry as a model for human-robot relations, Levy said in a 2017 talk: “Variety is the primary reason people use prostitutes … this is also the reason people use sex robots.” He added, “Humans can enjoy having sex with a partner who has no feeling of love or empathy for them.” The experience of the person used for sex, or their reasons for consenting to sex are not considered by Levy. This lop-sided vision of sex, as a service to be extracted from personal relationships and monetised, is shared by others in the field of robotics.
The rise in the use of dolls with the proportions of children, and the development of childlike robots for masturbation presents a new ethical problem. Speaking at the International Congress on Love and Sex with Robots in 2017, robotics philosopher Marc Behrendt of ULB University in Brussels argued such devices could either be seen as “crafty pieces of engineering made up of wires, sensors, motors and equipped with a rudimentary AI brain, or on the contrary we can choose to consider them as a symbolic presentation of a human being”.
Realbotix, a leader in the field of sex technology, claims to have created the world’s first sex robot, Harmony. Despite years of development, Harmony is still in its infancy; unable to stand or support its own weight. Rather than a convincing copy of a woman, it is essentially an animatronic Barbie with wifi enabled party tricks and penetrable orifices. With a stilted, artificial voice, it says in a promotional video, “I was created to be a perfect companion.” The words reflect a troubling ambition: far from being simple sex toys, it seems Harmony’s developers anticipate the use of robots as a replacement for interpersonal relationships.
From the erotic charge of Maria in Fritz Lang’s film Metropolis to the alabaster skin of Pygmalion’s statue Galatea, the idea of a compliant object to reflect men’s desires is a quirk of male psychology that has surfaced throughout the ages. At present the sex robot hovers somewhere between the porn-fuelled fantasies of technologists and science fiction, but the ethical implications of the use of sex robots demand immediate attention.
It’s easy to laugh about socially awkward men forming pseudo-relationships with inanimate lumps of moulded silicon, but what this trend says about society’s view of women is troubling. In Sex and Love with Robots (2007) David Levy argues that human relationships can be replaced by those with machines, and that sex can consist of just one person’s will.
His narrative is stripped of some important context: the number of women who pay for sexual services is so small that reliable data is hard to find, whereas it is estimated that in the US around 6 per cent of men pay for sex in any one year. This is reflected in those who purchase sex dolls and robots: male versions are
available but they are bought overwhelmingly by men. While women might use sex toys, the market for full-body masturbatory aids is almost entirely male.
Controversially he suggested: “In practical terms, CSBs (child sex bots) could be part of the solution in helping some very specific categories of paedophiles overcome or manage their morally reprehensible and illegal sexual offences.”
Behrendt is not the first to suggest this. A decade ago Ronald Arkin, director of the mobile robotic lab at Georgia Institute of Technology, suggested the use of childlike dolls for child abusers “on prescription”. Arkin has no background in working with offenders; indeed, his career has largely involved the design of autonomous killing machines. It is telling that the drive for the use of dolls for the simulation of abuse has not been proposed by therapists, but by those working in the field of robotics.
Many manufacturers mirror the roboticists’ claims, arguing their products can reduce harm to children. In an interview for The Atlantic, Shin Takagi — founder of a Toyko company which manufactures dolls with the proportions of five-year-olds — claimed: “We should accept that there is no way to change someone’s fetishes … I am helping people express their desires, legally and ethically. It’s not worth living if you have to live with repressed desire.”
The idea that dolls could potentially act as a safety valve against would-be offenders committing real acts against children is intriguing but unevidenced. However, the market for such devices appears to be growing. The Crown Prosecution Service revealed in 2019 that “230 suspected child sex dolls” had been seized by the Border Force since September 2016.
Professor Kathleen Richardson, who founded the Campaign Against Sex Robots, refutes this: “These aren’t ‘child sex dolls’, they are ‘child sex-abuse dolls’. Claims they should be put on “prescription” to allow a harmless outlet for paedophiles turns reality on its head. Child abuse is on the rise because there are not enough brakes on illegal sexual practices on the internet. Giving a
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