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Flesh and Machines: How Robots Will Change Us
In a way, robots are portraits of humans. Machines are just machines and assembly lines are just assembly lines. The buckets of bolts don't become robots until they start to take on some of the characteristics and a few of the jobs of humans. A drill for tightening a bolt may replace a biceps, but it's just a motor until it's on the end of a fancy mechanical arm that positions it automatically. Then it's a robot ready for a call from central casting.
Defining just what is and is not a robot is not an easy job for technologists because the replicants and androids are a touchstone and a benchmark for measuring our progress toward the future. It's 2002 and everyone is asking: Where's mad Hal steering a space craft to oblivion? Or more importantly: Why am I still vacuuming the floors and mowing the lawn by myself?
If you are asking these questions, then you might want to read the answers Rod Brooks, the director of MIT's Artificial Intelligence Laboratory, offers in his charming book, Flesh and Machines: How Robots will Change Us. The book is half a thoughtful biography of the various robots created by his graduate students and half a philosophical explanation of what to expect from the gradual emergence of robot butlers.
The biographical part is probably the most enjoyable. He and his students have produced more than a dozen memorable robots who've crawled, rolled and paced their way around MIT. One searched for Coke cans to recycle, one tried to give tours to visitors, and another just tried to hold a conversation. Brooks spends time outlining how and why each machine can into being. The successes and more importantly the failures become the basis for creating a new benchmark for what machines can and can't do.
An ideal version of this book should include a DVD or a video cassette with pictures of the robots in action because the movement is surprisingly lifelike. Brooks is something of a celebrity because a film maker named Errol Morris made a droll, deadpan documentary that cut between four eccentric geniuses talking about their work. One guy sculpted topiary, one tamed lions, one studied naked mole rats, and the fourth was Rod Brooks, the man who made robots. Brooks minted the title for the film, Fast, Cheap and Out of Control, a phrase he uses to describe his philosophy for creating robots. The movie tried to suss out the essence of genius, but it makes a perfect counterpoint for the book by providing some visual evidence of Brooks' success.
One of the stars of the movie was a six-legged robot called Genghis, a collection of high-torque RC airplane servo motors that Brooks feels is the best or most fully-realized embodiment of this fast and cheap approach. The robot marches along with a surprisingly life-like gait chasing after the right kind of radiation to tickle the IR and pyro-electric sensors mounted on whiskers. If you've seen the film, it's hard to forget his gait.
Brooks says that the secret to the success of Genghis is that there is no secret. The book's appendix provides an essential exploration of the design, which is short and very simple. The soul of the machine has 57 neuron-like subroutines, or "augmented finite state machines" in academic speak. For instance, one of the AFSMs responsible for balance constantly checks the force on a motor. If it is less than 7, the AFSM does nothing and if it is greater than 11, the AFSM reduces the force by three. That's doesn't seem like very much intelligence be it artificial or real, but 57 neuron-like subroutines like this are all it takes to create a fairly good imitation of a cockroach.
Brooks calls this a "subsumption architecture" and the book is most successful describing the days that he spent with his graduate students building robots and seeing what the architecture and a handful of AFSMs could do. He half mocks the roboticists who load up their machines with big computers trying to compute complex models of the world and all that is in it. In his eyes, the lumbering old-school machines just move a few inches and then devote a gazillion cycles to creating a detailed, digital description of every plant, brick or wayward child in the field of view. After a few more gazillion cycles, the machine chooses a path and moves a few more inches. Even when they find their way, time passes them by.
There are no complex control mechanisms sucking down cycles on the machines from Brooks' lab, the source of the claim that they're "out of control". It's just AFSMs wired together. One of the robots fakes human interaction by tracking fast motion and flesh colored pixels. Brooks marvels at how a few simple rules can produce a machine that is remarkably life-like. If you're not sure, they have video tapes of lab visitors holding conversations with the machine, who apparently takes part in the conversation with the patient interest of a well-bred host. As if by magic, the AFSMs are creating enough human-like movement and visitor in the tape begins treating the robot like a human!
If you're still not sure, you might buy a "My Real Baby" doll designed by Brooks with the help of the adept mechanical geniuses in Taiwan. The story of taking a highbrow concept from MIT to the local toy store is a great part of the book. The so-called toy is filled with AFSMs that tell it when to gurgle, when to pout, when to sleep, and when to demand sustenance. Alas, the toy makers tell Brooks that the market can't stomach so much innovation. One new thing at a time.
So are these machines truly successful simulacra? Are they infused with enough of the human condition to qualify as the science-fiction-grade robots or are they just cute parlor tricks? Some readers will probably point to the AFSMs and scoff. Seeing the code is like learning the secret to a magic trick.
Brooks, on the other hand, is sure that these machines are on the right track. In a sense, he makes it easier for his robots to catch up with humans by lowering the bar. On the back of the book, Brooks ladles out the schmaltz and proclaims, "We are machines, as are our spouses, our children and our dogs... I believe myself and my children all to be mere machines." That is, we're all just a slightly more involved collection of simple neurons that don't do much more than the balance mechanism of Genghis. You may think that you're deeply in love with the City of Florence, the ideal of democratic discourse, that raven-haired beauty three rows up, puppy dogs, or rainy nights cuddled under warm blankets, but according to the Brooks paradigm, you're just a bunch of AFSMs passing numbers back and forth.
If you think this extreme position means he's a few AFSMs short of a robot professor though, don't worry. Brooks backs away from this characterization when he takes on some of the bigger questions of what it means to be a human and what it means to be a machine. The latter part of the book focuses on what we can and can't do with artificial intelligence. He is very much a realist with the ability to admit what is working and what is failing. His machines definitely capture a spark, he notes, but they also fall short.
He notes with some chagrin that his robot lawnmower leaves behind tufts of uncut grass. Why? It uses a subsumption-like algorithm that doesn't bother creating a model of the yard. The robot just bounces around until the battery runs out. Eventually the laws of random chance mean that every blade should be snipped, but the batteries aren't strong enough to reach that point at infinity. A model might help prevent random lapses, but that still won't solve the problem. Alas, the machines themselves are limited by the lack of precision. One degree of error quickly turns into several feet by the other end of the yard. A robot wouldn't be able to follow a plan, even if it could compute one.
What's missing, Brooks decides, is some secret sauce he calls "the juice". Computation and AFSMs may work with cockroaches, but we need something more to get to the next level. Faster computers can do much more, but eventually we see through the mechanism. Genghis looks cool, but learning about the 57 AFSMs spoils the trick.
The standard criticism of Brooks' machines is that they don't scale. There is no superglue juice that can save a scaffolding built of toothpicks. The AFSM may produce good cockroaches, but that's just the beginning of the game. Humans are more than that. Eventually, the AFSMs become too unwieldy to be a stable programming paradigm. In fact, Brooks sort of agrees with this premise when he suggests that Genghis is his "most satisfying robot." It was also one of the first. The later models with more AFSMs just don't rank.
But humans and other living creatures don't scale either. We may be able to run 20 miles per hour, but only for 100 yards. We may be able to troll for flames on five bulletin boards, but eventually we get our pseudonyms confused. Limits are part of life and we only survive by forgiving them. To some extent, the lifelike qualities of his robots are direct results of the self-imposed limits of the AFSMs.
Your reaction to these machines will largely depend upon how many of the limits you are willing to forgive. Stern taskmasters may never be happy with a so-called robot, but a relaxed fellow traveller may ignore enough of the glitches to interface successfully. Some will see enough of themselves to be happy with the whirring gizmos as a portrait of human and others may never find what they're looking for. That's just the nature of portraits. For me, this book is an excellent portrait of a research program and the collection of questions it tried to answer. You may look in the mirror and want something different, but it's worth taking a look at these machines.
Peter Wayner is the author of two books appearing this spring: the second edition of Disappearing Cryptography , a book about steganography, and Translucent Databases , a book about adding extra security to databases. You can purchase Flesh and Machines from Barnes & Noble. Want to see your own review here? Just read the book review guidelines, then use Slashdot's handy submission form.
Until robots get to the price of a washer/dryer we won't see them much of anywhere. Look how long it is taking to get HDTV going in the states! And DVD players might overtake VCRs this year. And forget about the DVD recorders! Everytime I see or hear about a new gadget that claims it is priced near that of a luxury car I cringe. Maybe my great-great grandkids will get to play with them.
"If you are on fire you can just stop, drop, and roll. If you fall into Lava you are just dead." - my 5yr old daughter
All humans are machines, built up to amazing complexity in the tools of flesh, sinew, bone and chemicals instead of steel panels, rivets and framework.
:) And we're just now beginning to find the bugs. Maybe the human race just doesn't scale well?
Oh, and humans run the single most complicated OS ever.
LV
Woot w00t w007.
Ack! If I remember correctly, there was an article about chips that could re-wire its own gates. Essentially it was self learning. Then there was a poster about that topic that mentioned a Hypercomputer (the OS learns at a fast rate).
Well, biological creatures don't scale well at all, right? We have access to the code that Rod Brooks made, right? Well, using other technology, lets evolove the code. If for some reason that doesn't work, we have most (all?) of the human genome done. How about other dna strings?
We either "evolove" the creature or we model it after the dna it came from. Anyways, score 1 for robotics.
Why is it that robots must be envisioned as humanoid? Specialized robots look very little like a human, such as industrial handling robots. A more generalized design for multi-purpose applications need not look or act anything like a human being to get it's tasks accomplished. I think a lot of fear and paranoia from the ignorant might be avoided by specifically making them NOT look humanoid. Who says that the human form is the be-all and end-all general purpose vehicle? The only "pro" for them being humanoid is they must negotiate a world build for humanoids.
-- You are in a maze of little, twisty passages, all different... --
Back in the 50's, people dreamed feverishly of flying cars and robot maids, of amazing advances in science over the next decade. But what we're moving towards, ever so slowly, is more along the lines of "the kitchen that cooks meals by itself" - an integrated system where computers are so tightly woven into the construction of appliances that the appliances themselves become intelligent and teachable. (Programmable, teachable, use your own word or metaphor here.)
The human element can't be ignored in favor of fully robotic solutions. People enjoy feeling involved in what it is they're doing. Personally I'm all for having an entire race of robot slaves that do all the work for everyone, leaving people free to create Art, Science, and Music (and giving *me* time to finish Final Fantasy 10).. but I don't see it happening any time soon.
Flying cars would rock. Talking cars that remember your favorite radio stations, seat settings, A/C settings, and possibly directions to drive to your parent's house are far more likely.
I'd agree with your contention that a DVD would be a welcome addition; last year some time I saw a documentary on robotic cockroaches - probably the self-same bugs referenced herein - and I was astonished by how such apparently complex behaviour could be achieved with so few rules. You've got to see them scurrying to believe them.
As for the 'non-scaling' criticism: to quote Dogbert, 'Pah!' They do what they're supposed to do. I never criticised my Spectrum because it didn't have dolby sound; I wouldn't criticise my roaches because they don't write operas.
Think about it.
Much of what you do each and every day occurs in spite of the ability I just asked of you. Your brain is not responsible for thinking about how to walk (at least not after you learn how). You peripheral nervous system handles such actions.
When humans create a robot in the fashion of Rod Brook, they are training a system analogous to our own peripheral nervous system. Why force the machine to learn to walk when we can tell it how to walk from our own experience (knowledge of physics, etc).
The exact implementation Brook uses may not scale, but analogous programming options exist that could scale, and IMHO, approaches addressing immediate actions/reactions should be built into robots as described.
From the interview it seems Brook admits the need for serious processing power to reach the "next level", but shrewdly points to the fact that spending all of your time thinking and not doing is not a good way to get anything done.
If you can't walk and chew gum at the same time...
Part of human nature is to associate with what is closest to us. Think religion, beliefs, ideals. Why shouldnt this be applied to our development of machines. After all, what are machines and robots but the next stage of human interaction? In some respects, this is almost our playing god, creating man(robots) in our image. We are most comfortable with what we percieve to be like us. I guess on a lighter note think of the last time you were physically attracted to a chimpanzee. Organically similar, but not human. Creating humanoid robots is our way of asserting our power over our environment.
all my
...with a manically depressed robot?
What are you supposed to do if you ARE a manically depressed robot?
...and that's the way the cookie crumbles.
Instead you drop your clothes and soap into a box and give some instructions (turn indicator knob). No human labor involved. Sounds like just as much of a robot as the other items mentioned above
*whup* "Get along, little electrons. Heeyah!"
Aah, the old paradox. It's based on a false premise though.
To climb a pole, the monkey must move. To move, it must displace molecules of one substance (say air) with that of another (say a monkey hair molecule). In other words, although movement appears to be constant, it is actually a series of discrete steps.
The monkey will reach the top of the pole when its next step cannot be broken down any further - ie. when it has only one molecule of another substance left to displace with its own.
Unless you're into nuclear monkey of course, where it could start splitting up the molecule, then the atoms underneath it and then have a crack at the sub-atomic particles beneath that...
Cheers,
Ian
Or more importantly: Why am I still vacuuming the floors and mowing the lawn by myself?
Whether or not the book actually discusses that, it's a point kind of disturbs me. Honestly, vacuuming floors and mowing the lawn are not that hard. Having to look after yourself also gives you a sense of responsiblity, IMHO. I'm not sure I'd want a robot doing these things for me.
While tools have become more and more comprehensive in helping humans solve tasks (and humans have come to depend more on those tools), humans are still usually the ones directly in control. You push or steer the lawnmower, you move the vacuum where you want to clean, etc. If I had a robot do these things, all of a sudden it's the robot deciding when and how these things are done, and not me. On the other hand, there are also people who may not have the time or ability to take care of chores like these themselves, and having a robot do them might mean the difference between still being able to live at home, and having to live in a nursing home.
slashdot!=valid HTML
If it's likely, it will start with utilitarian promises,
then explode into entertainment. To be big it must be
entertaining, deadly, powerful, or some combination
of those three.
Mom
To simple say that machine intelligence will be eventually asymptotic to human intelligence is meangingless - it need only be close enough that we are unable to tell the difference by any discernable means. Scale matters in all things human - your asymptote argument doesn't hold. We don't live on a graph.