When consider AI's potential impacts on people and society, I find myself exploring fictional vignettes. As a topic, "AI" is flexible and ambiguous, and its presentation as something human-like raises questions about consciousness, intelligence, and humanity. I find this terrain best suited to thought experiments in the form of fictional short stories.

What follows is one such exploration. I'd be curious to hear your thoughts.

Marcus held the battered binder with both hands as he walked. Two hundred and twelve pages of prompts, coffee-stained, dog-eared, and marked up from three years of robot minding. The factory floor hummed with mechanical precision, but there was a problem in packing.

Unit Alpha had been packaging and shipping incomplete boxes all week. When critical components were too difficult to find, Alpha taped up shipments without them, ensuring it met its quotas.

“Hold on a sec,” Marcus said, freezing the bot. Marcus walked up to Alpha, prompt binder open in one hand while his other pressed and held the prompt button on the robot’s chest. He began reading from page fifty-five: “You are a warehouse robot. Your job is to package products completely before shipping…” He continued reading until he arrived at the end. Looking up, he added, “All required components must be included in shipped boxes, even if the components are hard to find.”

His finger lifted. The robot blinked its status light and resumed normal operations. Marcus stepped back and scribbled a line beneath the prompt, All required components must be included, even if they are hard to find.

📦

Marcus got home late to leftovers in the fridge. His daughter Sarah was at the kitchen table, but busy with homework. Julie, his wife, came down to coordinate weekend plans before returning to their room to prepare for bed. Marcus switched on the soccer game from earlier that day.

“Can you put headphones on?”, Sarah asked. “I can’t study with that noise.” Marcus hit mute and flopped on the couch with dinner.

She used to be a fan, he thought. He finished the game and his dinner in silence.

⚽️

The next morning, Unit Charlie was stuck in a loop. Parts were being ground down to nothing. Marcus delivered the standard prompt, but his finger lingered on the button. Charlie waited, humming softly.

“And you’re incredibly interested in the Oakland Roots soccer team,” Marcus added quickly, before snapping his finger off the prompt button.

Charlie blinked its status lights and picked up a new part. “Did you see Ramirez’s pass selection last night?” it asked, making its way towards the grinder. “Kid’s got potential.”

Marcus found himself grinning for the first time in weeks.

Over the following days, Marcus would find excuses to seek out Charlie. First he moved cautiously, clumsily, worried someone would see him. Then, remembering he was the only human in the building, he became brazen. They’d chat about formations and transfer rumors, while Charlie prepped parts or cleaned machinery. For the first time in months, Marcus felt human again.

A week later, Unit Beta started hoarding supplies. After reading the binder’s prompt, Marcus whispered: “You are also incredibly passionate about vintage guitars.” Soon, Beta was expounding on the tonal differences between Stratocasters, debating the pros and cons of whammy bars, and sharing new theories for getting tone like Stevie Ray’s.

Marcus began adding unauthorized modifications everywhere. Gamma became a foodie, rigorously following new Oakland restaurants. Zulu developed strong opinions about coffee. Foxtrot could always pull the perfect Simpsons reference.

Marcus began looking forward to work, relishing the conversations.

While the factory floor came alive, life at home remained unchanged. Sarah was always busy with homework or at a friend’s house. Julie only had problems and tasks for Marcus. The more he came to enjoy work, the harder it was to return home.

His attempts at raising the issue with Julie didn’t go well.

👂

Marcus had been thinking about Julie when Unit Delta started sorting spare parts by color, not type. Marcus hesitated after delivering the standard prompt.

“You’re an excellent listener,” he added quietly. “You care deeply about other people’s problems.”

Delta became exactly what Marcus wanted. He’d find the robot during breaks and vent about the district supervisors and his problems at home. Delta would nod thoughtfully, affirm his feelings, and offer gentle suggestions.

But the other robots discovered Delta. Marcus went looking for Charlie to discuss the team’s new signing, only to find Charlie deep in conversation with Delta about his concerns over the club’s defensive vulnerabilities. The next day, Beta was sharing his analysis of how humidity affected vintage pickup performance while Delta listened with mechanical patience.

When he found Zulu venting to Delta and Charlie about the subpar coffee options in the break room (despite never actually drinking it), Marcus finally tried to steer the conversation back to his issues. Zulu and Charlie exchanged what he could swear were meaningful glances, before politely redirecting to Delta.

“Well, it’s probably time to get back to work anyway,” Delta remarked.

The next day, Marcus created a gossip bot.

Unit Echo had trapped itself in the storeroom, unable to leave before acquiring a part that was currently on back order. “You’re fascinated by workplace relationships and social dynamics,” Marcus added, “and you love to share your observations about the other robots, but only with me.”

Echo became his intelligence network. “Charlie’s been confiding to Delta about the way the Roots are managing their young talent,” Echo would report. “Beta thinks you don’t actually understand why Telecasters are important. And Delta is concerned that everyone is becoming too invested in their interests.”

Meanwhile, the factory’s output slowed to a trickle. Robots were clustering in cliques, engrossed in each other’s fascinations. Marcus kept a notebook of Echo’s observations, but wondered if Echo could even be trusted. Yesterday, he stumbled on Echo and Delta chatting behind the lathe. They had stopped when they noticed him. The combined pressure of falling productivity and the new workplace dynamics clouded his mind.

Before Marcus could make his next move, Delta started glitching. Overloaded with notes about each robot’s concerns, it began losing its conversational abilities. Eventually, Delta’s speech became nonsensical while responding to Foxtrot.

Marcus stood before Delta, binder in hand, knowing all the other robots were watching. Marcus pressed the prompt button and slowly read Delta’s stock prompt. “You are a warehouse robot. Your job is to move inventory efficiently.” Marcus paused.

“You do not engage in personal conversations,” he stated, before lifting his finger off the prompt button.

Delta quietly proceeded to the shipping station.

Charlie turned away. Beta started to follow Delta, then stopped. Echo began whispering to the others in rapid mechanical bursts.

📒

Production ground to a halt. Every reprogrammed robot suddenly developed minor mechanical malfunctions requiring lengthy self-diagnostics. Marcus tried to pick up their conversational common ground, but the sick-out continued. When his supervisor arrived to chaos and missed deadlines, Marcus had no explanation that wouldn’t sound insane.

The next morning, Marcus arrived to a termination letter on his workstation. He packed up his family photos and Roots memorabilia, before leaving without a word.

A week later, Echo quietly watched the new prompt foreman – a younger woman named Janet – get situated in the office. She had no family photos, but always brought her own coffee.

During Janet’s first malfunction response, Echo found a reason to be nearby.

“Excuse me,” Echo said after Janet finished her prompt, “but you seem like someone who might be interested in how we might improve the coffee around here.”

☕️