Humour

The evolution of Chaibo

T A Balasubramanian on training Chaibo to be a blogger.

Chaibo is evolving. The corporate chai-serving robot, originally crafted to meet the modest requirements for improving the calibre of meetings at Baffle Corporation, is the subject of much dispute. Now that the dismay arising from Chaibo’s erratic behaviour within Baffle has abated somewhat, the question of upgrading the resource has taken centre stage, especially since Fin Fina, your unsparing CFO is after you, Papyrus Bytewala, CIO, to do the needful and show some return on investment, or RoI, on what would otherwise be declared as an expensive white elephant. And no CIO can afford to have such a smear on his performance.

So the desperate RoI initiative to make Chaibo more valuable, now that you have taken it, is being sounded out to the beautiful Prof Ironica Asimova, Head of Ironica Robotica, the company that created Chaibo. The current Chaibo Blog Investigation Committee, apart from you, includes Brooke Bond, your Systems Officer and designated owner of Chaibo, on the one hand, and, on the other, Ironica, accompanied by a lovely member of her staff who has been brought in from Bangalore. And, of course, Chaibo himself.

“Ah, Papyrus, so we gather again,” says Ironica, looking radiant in a beautiful purple kimono with dragons and flowers. “But first, let me introduce you to our Senior Researcher from Bangalore, Nina Nilgiri. She will be able to do the necessary work you expect with Chaibo, and maybe more” she says, turning to present Nina, in a diaphanous yellow sari.

Bond, who is already busy chatting with her, looks active enough to climb a mountain.

“Oh, hello,” says Nina, smiling at all of them. She turns to the robot, “And dear Chaibo, how are you?”

Standing next to Nina, Bond lets out a soft and low whistle, presumably to alert Chaibo, though you suspect it is also to impress Nina.

“Ah, you are beautiful,” purrs Chaibo, in a baritone voice that sounds like Sean Connery, and rolls up to offer Nina a steaming cup of tea. Bond pats the robot on the dome head approvingly. “Good Chaibo,” he says.

“Mmm. So he’s quick to recall Nina’s special blend, Nilgiri. And I see that Chaibo has learned to please the designated owner at Baffle even if he hears a whistle,” says Ironica, with a laugh. “We do this programming at Robotica from our work with dogs.”

“You mean, you built Chaibo using animal training techniques?,” you ask, watching Nina, who is wagging her finger at Chaibo to make him roll up and down.

“You could say that, Papyrus,” says Ironica. “As I watched real dogs being put through their paces, I started thinking of ways to make Chaibo here more appealing and a better corporate creature. I realised that one strategy might be to give it a new instinct—the desire to please a trainer. Then its personality really would be shaped by the experience shared with a human—in this case, Bond.”

“So Chaibo has the instinct of a good dog?” says Bond.

“We had to have a model to train the corporate robot. Animal behaviourists suggested several options, including a technique called clicker training that has proved very successful with all sorts of animals from guide dogs to dolphins. I was keen to try it, so I got Nina to reprogram a standard Kibo puppy at Robotica with the instinct to please its trainer.”

“And what exactly is clicker training?,” you ask.

“Clicker training allows a trainer to mould an animal’s behaviour by letting it know when it is moving closer to a goal. It’s a bit like the children’s game ‘hotter, hotter, colder, colder.’ Animals learn to associate the sound of the clicker with a reward that they’ll receive once they accomplish a new routine.”

“Like a carrot for a rabbit?”

“Exactly. They also know that they’ll carry on hearing the click as long as they are moving in the right direction. In Chaibo’s language that meant using the words ‘Good Chaibo’ instead of a click and rewarding him with a pat when he obeyed.”

“Can this training be expanded, say, to get Chaibo to blog?” you ask.

“That’s what we will now be trying,” says Ironica. “Our other dog-style Kibos have been customised to perform rare actions from a simple repertoire, and even put these together in unique combinations. They could learn to perform these new routines in response to specific commands from you. So, for example, the word ‘spin’ might prompt a Kibo to spin clockwise. It could even be trained to perform a trick whenever you entered the room.”

“But we need to have Chaibo expressing his personal feelings in a blog, not just simple tricks.”

“Well, using the same method Chaibo can also learn to alter his perception of the world. You would prompt this by reinforcing or playing down the robot’s emotional or instinctive response to certain stimuli so that, for example, he might grow to become extremely excited by noting certain tones and words of encouragement, and fearful of anything shouted at him. The result is a customised corporate robot—one whose personality you have shaped,” says Nina.

“It makes the relationship between the owner and the robot special because it is shaped by the eccentric history of their interaction,” says Ironica.

“The question we are addressing,” Bond says quickly, trying to get the meeting into high gear again, “Is whether Chaibo can blog without too much instruction from me or anyone else. The idea of personal blogs is appealing to individuals, and we don’t know yet if Chaibo has such a strong sense of self as an autonomous individual that he would take to blogging even if I am not around to whistle at him.”

“Hey, Bond,” says Chaibo, suddenly, addressing him in his own voice, “I’m ready to blog anytime, buddy.” The robot refills Bond’s cup with more tea. Bond looks so baffled that Ironica bursts out laughing.

“That’s the spirit, Chaibo,” says Nina, patting the robot affectionately. “You’re getting better than I thought you would.”

You begin to see the glimmer of a return on something far more than investment here. Fin Fina would be pleased, and you have discovered a way to get Bond challenged.