Flying cars may still be years away, but in many ways we inch closer to life in “The Jetsons” every day. If iRobot’s Roombas (and their competitors, such as Anker’s Eufy, which we reviewed here) were not similar enough to Rosie the Robot for your tastes, then you’ll be ecstatic to learn about the new trend sweeping workplaces throughout the country.
During the COVID crisis, a new, more advanced type of cleaning robot has taken the office by storm. The Verge interviewed the heads of several of these companies and reported on these new machines, which go beyond cleaning up messes to actually spray viral disinfectant and UV radiation as they amble along. During the pandemic, the demand for these devices has skyrocketed. For example, Xenes, manufacturer of the LightStrike robots, says sales are up 600 percent.
The creepy part about these developments is less about their functioning, which appears genuinely useful, and more about how people talk about them. Like with Moxie the “social support robot,” the elites in business and media seem to be taking it for granted that the current generation of robotics is prepared to become Humanity 2.0. Notice this sentence in The Verge article about the Breezy One, made by a company called Build With Robots:
“Build With Robots says the cost for hiring its machines is between $3,250 and $10,750 a month, depending on the number of robots and the length of the contract.”
I’m sorry, but cleaning machines, no matter how “smart,” should be “rented,” not “hired.” I don’t care if they are equipped with LIDAR or 3D cameras to self-navigate. They are tools, not human labor. Hasn’t this country’s professional class degraded the working class enough as it is? Just wait until one of the robots malfunctions, and the HR department refers to it as a “sick day.”
One last thing, when designing these mechanical helpers, can we please stop giving them eyes? That includes “large mist-producing jet nozzles on top that look like “a pair of swiveling eyes.” I still remember the first time I went to the grocery store and came across Marty, Giant Food Stores’ terrifying automated floor checker. Memo to the nerds who make these things: it’s not cute, so cut it out.
