In this blog post, I’ll explore why people feel compassion and discomfort when they see someone hitting or kicking a robot, and discuss how we should think about ethical standards for treating robots in comparison to our ethical feelings toward animals.
How is kicking a robot—which is neither human nor animal—any different from kicking a soccer ball? Even though we may think of them as mere machines, seeing a robot get kicked and fall leaves us with a sense of pity and a complex unease. In fact, this very debate arose when Boston Dynamics released a video demonstrating its robots. People who saw scenes of the four-legged robot “Spot” being kicked and the humanoid robot “Atlas” being pushed from behind and falling argued that such behavior toward robots was “cruel,” while others contended that since they are merely robots, there was no issue at all. Online, the debate raged as opinions clashed over whether kicking a robot dog was cruel and whether “Spot” was to be pitied. However, the debate was brought to a close by remarks from Professor Noel Sharkey, a renowned British robotics expert, who stated that “it is meaningless unless machines possess consciousness and can feel pain,” as well as a statement from the animal rights organization PETA, which said, “We are not particularly concerned about this incident because we deal with the issue of daily abuse of real animals.” Subsequently, a new video released by Boston Dynamics showed the humanoid robot “Atlas” being pushed from behind and knocked over. Unlike “Spot,” which barely managed to regain its balance even after being kicked, “Atlas” falls forward. Watching this video, one might wonder how kicking a robot—which is neither human nor animal—differs from kicking a soccer ball; yet at the same time, a sense of pity and a complex unease lingers in the back of one’s mind toward the robot being kicked and falling over.
When do we feel pity? We might pity a tragic heroine in a movie, or feel compassion and offer comfort to an acquaintance facing a difficult situation. When we engage with movies or stories, we empathize with the protagonist. In doing so, we feel sympathy and compassion for a protagonist facing adversity, and we share in their joy when all conflicts are resolved and a happy ending finally arrives. The same is true for “Spot” and “Atlas.” When we see them trying to walk or stand but stumbling or falling after being kicked or hit on the back of the head, we empathize with the robots, recalling how things in the world don’t always go our way or moments when we felt so frustrated that we wanted to give up. As a result, we come to feel that the robots are “pitiful” and that hitting them is “cruel.”
One of the subjects toward which we commonly feel compassion is animals that are abused or abandoned. While some animals find loving families and live well, many others are abused or abandoned. Fortunately, South Korea’s Animal Protection Act was enacted to prevent animal abuse and protect animals, serving as a minimum safety net for them. So why should we protect animals? While the Animal Protection Act lists fostering public sentiment—such as respect for animal life—as a key objective, it does not provide a sufficiently logical explanation for why animals should be protected. Is the reason for protecting animals merely based on compassion or an appeal to our emotions? According to the Western philosopher David Hume’s Theory of Human Nature, emotions form the foundation of ethics. In other words, the very emotion we feel—compassion for abused animals and the desire to protect them—can itself serve as a reason to protect animals. But what about robots? Just as with animals, could the emotion of pity we feel when seeing an abused robot serve as a reason not to hit it? As seen in the controversy surrounding “Spot,” violence against robots is already becoming a social issue. As technology advances further and robots resembling animals or humans are developed, the view that violence against robots is cruel will become even more widespread than it is now.
The biggest difference between robots and animals is likely that robots do not feel pain. While animals experience emotions such as fear or loneliness, robots neither feel pain nor possess emotions. So, if they cannot feel pain or emotions, can violence against them be justified? Since people in a vegetative state or who are brain-dead may also be unable to feel pain or emotions, it is difficult to draw a simple conclusion on this issue.
The reason we were able to empathize more with “Spot” or “Atlas” being hit is probably because their appearance is familiar to us. If so, would we consider violence against creatures we do not find familiar—such as snakes or ants—to be wrong? We might not think so now, but that will depend on how we perceive them. After finishing Bernard Werber’s novel ‘The Ants’, you find yourself stepping carefully, afraid that you might accidentally step on an ant and destroy their civilization. Similarly, while we may be desensitized to violence against creatures we do not consider familiar, it is entirely plausible that, once we become familiar with them, we might empathize with robots and feel pity for them. Conversely, the more robots come to resemble and behave like humans or animals, the more difficult it will become to treat them as non-living entities.
The act of kicking “Spot” may have been an intentional move for Boston Dynamics’ marketing purposes. However, many people also harbor an unfounded hostility toward robots. Robots are constantly evolving, and in the future, robots capable of emotion or capable of feeling pain may well be invented. Nevertheless, there has not yet been sufficient serious consideration of the ethical issues between robots and humans. In South Korea, a “Draft Robot Ethics Charter”—a set of ethical guidelines to be followed by robots, users, and manufacturers—was announced in the past. Considering the rapidly approaching future, it is time to revisit those ethical considerations that were left unresolved at the draft stage.
