Stephanie Bennett's Blog

The uniqueness of each human being is a mind boggling concept. To think, there is something completely unique about each and every one of us. Isn't that amazing?

It's part of the mystery of life and is such an important part. Even though we always seek to know more about life's meaning, We NEED the mystery; it's part of the essence of our humanity!

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Somehow science fiction works as a vehicle to prepare and position culture for change. It sort of demythologizes the terrible feeling that we will be reduced to something less than human, less than unique. The genre isn't always successful, and often is more simply a means of entertainment, but there are times when a film or piece of literature works as a direct catalyst to effect societal perception and ultimate acceptance of a new way of life.

Have you seen "I, Robot?" Based on the 1950 book by Russian-born, American Sci-Fi master, Isaac Asimov, the plot is set in the year 2035. It's interesting, because while not terribly far into the future, the audience is still able to recognize twentieth century artifacts and mannerisms. In the film, people look like people, cars generally resemble cars, but a whole other "slave" race of robots is on the scene whose total existence has come into place to help ease the strain of being human. Interestingly, we are always seeking to eliminate the "strain," but isn't it the very struggle to manage our largely unmanageable, unpredictable humanness that helps keep us in the game?

As might be expected, in "I, Robot," the robot race performs that which is either too dangerous for humans, or simply, the "grunge" work. Hauling garbage, carrying packages from the market, and diving into rivers to save the hapless humans, the robots are so helpful, precisely because they are dispensible. They need no investment other than a monetary one.
No emtional exchange.
No "high maintenance" relationships.
None of the struggles of dealing with human beings. Because of this, they become indispensable, and totally accepted into the milieu of everyday life. That is, until a "unique" robot named Sonny appears on the scene.

Of course, the premise here is that these robotic constructions can be utilized this way because they have no soul. Their operating system is embedded with a strict code of ethics called "the three laws," which always compels them to look after the well being of the human race. We know the "older rule" about laws though… don't we? They were made to be broken.

As expected, the world goes awry and nearly collapses through the rebellion of the robot world. One somewhat old-fashioned cop named Spooner (Will Smith) doesn't look quite as quaffed or "21st century" as the others. He still wears his converse all-stars and listens to the hip Rhythm and Blues of Stevie Wonder. He is also completely suspect of robots, AND he takes a lot of flack for that position.

Perhaps most interesting to the plot was the somewhat minor role of Spooner's grandmother, Gigi. At the end of the movie she is seen alone in her apartment, under the rule and house arrest of the "personal robot" she received for free. There, quoting the psalms and praying with bible-in-hand, Gigi is on her knees, seeking something higher, greater, more solid than the metal and material substance of which the robotic race was formed. I could not help but wonder, is faith the only recourse in a world that has gone nearly mad? Is belief in God such a far cry from belief in a utopian world of human creation that it should be wiped from the great conversation, as is the push in so many public arenas? Is faith such a farther leap than rational, robotic reveries of this generation of scientists? Transfixed with artificial intelligence and simulation of human reality, so many of the world's most brilliant scientists push ever onward for greater and greater discoveries and uses of technology, yet turn a blind eye to the wisdom of the ages. I cannot help but wonder when (or if) we will all awaken to the ultimate essentiality, simplicity, and sacredness of human life.