Humour

Ready for a humanoid CTO?

T A Balasubramanian looks at the impact DeVito, the humanoid has on the organisation

“Not long ago, we used to wonder what would happen if robotics became successful in one of its toughest tasks–namely giving robots the mechanical equivalent of understanding,” says Prof. Ironica Asimova, Head of Ironica Robotica, as she stands next to the chubby, balding, smiling, nodding replica of Danny DeVito, presently the CTO of Baffle Corporation. “But here we have a living model, complete with a Hollywood halo.”

You wonder if you can take any more of these technology jolts without becoming a case for the psychiatrists. Not only have you, Papyrus Bytewala, CIO of Baffle, been clean bowled by this exposure of DeVito’s real identity, you have also been made to look like a prize chump. There you were, defending the new CTO, and even being apologetic about asking him whether he was a human being or something else.

“You look like you have been hit by a truck, Papyrus,” says Ironica with a grin, as if she has been just reading your thoughts. “It was my idea to slip DeVito into Baffle without letting anyone know that he’s our first biped walking humanoid. “Yet you will agree that it was a revelation. Danny here is a cybernetic wonder, because you can’t ever discover that he’s a humanoid just by interacting with him.”

“How did you get so much realism into a machine?” says Brando Bhatt, Baffle’s Head of Marketing, as he walks around DeVito, marvelling and prodding. “He’s an absolutely outstanding fake.”

“Machine? Fake? Me? Hey cut that out, will you?” snaps the new CTO, his face dark as thunder. “What do you take me for, a refrigerator from a Taiwanese factory?”

Ironica smiles indulgently and pats DeVito gently on his shoulder. “At Ironica, our research in robotics and artificial intelligence is far more diverse and advanced than most people would imagine. We have been designing applications that range from near-perfect imitations of homo sapiens to human-bot social interactions in all kinds of environments to dynamic prosthetics that closely match flesh tones. Robots that talk, walk, swim, crawl, roll, swing and fly are all ready to mix and mingle with us, and you can’t really tell if they are robots when some of these creations are as lifelike as DeVito.”

“But we don’t know if we’re ready to have an artificially intelligent CTO in Baffle yet,” says Gulabi Manpowa, the incorrigible Head of HR, imperiously crossing her arms. “We just don’t have a corporate policy for robots— lifelike, intelligent, artificial or otherwise. We don’t know if they will need sick leave or whether they can be sent to motivational training courses, for example. And as we have seen too well, even a patently clumsy robot like Chaibo can be persistently unruly and unpredictable. He’s more inclined to insubordination than obedience when he has to follow a directive from his designated boss.”

“Gulabi has a point. We need clarity in our policies, Papyrus,” says Fin Fina, the gimlet-eyed CFO. “The human-side problem of robotic indiscipline is one aspect. The other is accounting. What I want to know is whether the cost of taking on a mechanical or electronic or synthetic CFO has been considered, and where do we budget for a non-human asset? Is DeVito part of the corporate assets as a physical item of inventory or is he part of the manpower? Can he be depreciated like other goods, or should he be appreciated like other people? How is he to be paid, if he is to be paid a salary? Can he be eligible for retirement benefits? Does he need health insurance? Does he decay? Does he have a heart?”

“Hello? Do I have a heart? Do you have a heart? Do I look like I’m made of rubber?” says DeVito, waving his hands in the air dramatically.

“What I mean is—do you have any internal organs like us?” says the unflappable Fin Fina. “Sorry if that sounds rude, but we guys in finance have to have a tally of all perishables on the premises, just in case there’s an accident.”

“Hold it, hold it, hold it. Can we leave aside my perishable internal organs for a moment? As the totally ignored object of this discussion, can I say something, with your kind permission, if you please? I’m more than a humanoid—I’m annoyed. What I’d like you to do is to relate to me as an ordinary human Cee-Tee-Ooh. There’s somebody sensitive—or some delicate creature inside here, if you like inside here listening to all this wagonload of gobbledygook.”

Then, as the hall becomes silent, he rumbles on: “Are you nuts? This is worse than a mob attacking a gangster hideout in Chicago. I may be a humanoid, I may have silicon brains, a New Jersey accent and an Italian face, but I have real human feelings, like each of you. I find this entire discussion about my right to be a robot and a Cee-Tee-Ooh right in front of me an assault on my personal sense of dignified and cultured interactivity. This isn’t the kind of corporate etiquette I have been programmed to work with, you know. It’s some kind of jungle warfare.”

For a full minute, there is hushed silence.

“That was a great intervention, Danny,” says Ironica, proudly, as she breaks in. “You see, Papyrus? DeVito’s a fully developed, sophisticated humanoid, and he understands the rules of business. Or at least he follows the formal rules of work that we have culled from models of the best business practices recommended by the highly respected veterans at Duckbill and Goose.”

“He’s bound to get all that wiped out quite fast in Baffle, then,” you say, reflectively. “We’re very good at turning even the most unusually talented display of initiative by flesh-and-blood humans into corporate waste. We have the remarkable ability to crunch any newcomer, human or humanoid, into little digestible flakes.”

“Ha, ha, Papyrus. You exaggerate, no doubt,” says Ironica, waving her hand in mock dismissal. “But even if you’re not, we have found ways to turn DeVito into the most versatile self-developing cybernetic system. But I can assure you that he will be entirely capable of handling even the most convoluted and Byzantine corporate mazes you can think up in Baffle’s chambers of regulated torment.”

“This I’ve got to see, Ms. Asimova,” says Brooke Bond, your Systems Officer, with a gleam in his eye. You imagine that there’s a hint of  psychopathic satisfaction in his voice.

After, all, he has just been replaced as Chaibo’s designated supervisor by the incumbent CTO, and Bond is not the kind of creature who takes unexpected losses of corporate privilege lightly.