Humour

Debugging Chaibo—2

The grand inquisition into Chaibo’s misdemeanour involving Gulabi Manpowa, Head of HR at Baffle Corp, is in progress. T A Balasubramanian reports.

The ad hoc Chaibo Test Debugging Committee includes Gulabi, designated ‘the offendee,’ in the case, you, Papyrus Bytewala, CIO, and Brooke Bond, on the one hand, and Prof. Ironica Asimova herself from Ironica, and her Chief Designer, Lola Lipton, Head of the Biodynotics team that developed the software now adapted in Chaibo’s program.

“Well, Papyrus, Chaibo can do more than we could have ever programmed it to do,” Ironica says. “It is impossible to predict all the possible reactions to a new person interacting for the first time with Chaibo, so the robot must build his knowledge from experience. And as it is impossible to predict the eccentricities of every new person, he must learn to ‘understand’ the specific stranger’s profile.”

A CIO’s life is full of peril, you think silently. “Corporate life is based on sustaining, shall we say, polite deceptions,” you say aloud, looking around you warily, “You have already told us that a part of that deception has been taken care of in setting Chaibo’s PCO, or political correctness optimiser, for language control. Though it seems to be the source of the current bug, Prof. Asimova, can you tell us how your programs are designed, in the first place?”

“Of course, Papyrus,” says Ironica, smiling at you and the rest of the gang. “Since we have adapted Chaibo’s software from our Kibos, let me explain how we do it. You could say that Kibos, like humans, have five instincts, if you can call it that. Curiosity and the desires to interact, exercise, rest and sleep. And they have six emotional states — joy, sadness, anger, surprise, fear and discontent. Each robot learns from its experiences, which reinforce certain behaviours, instincts and emotions while knocking others back. The result, is a bond between owner and robot pet built on their shared experience.”

“So Chaibo, in a sense, picks up the personality of Brooke Bond, the designated owner we have at Baffle?”

“Primarily, yes,” says Ironica. But since a corporate robot interacts with many people, we have provided malleable software that allows Chaibo to modify itself to perform tailored sequences of new movements or to react in characteristic ways to being stroked or talked to. And these can be other people at Baffle. The agglomeration of influences will determine whether Chaibo develops a mature and boring character or behaves more like a puppy. Or rather, a brazen form that reflects Baffle’s peculiar culture. But in this case, it seems to me that Bond has been so close to the robot that he has managed to give Chaibo a rakish personality that seems to be more Bond than Bond himself.”

“Hey,” says Bond, putting up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I have been working closely with my pal Chaibo, of course, but I haven’t made him my slave. He’s smart enough to learn. Here, Chaibo, let’s hear you apologising to Gulabi, now.”

Bond pats the robot’s dome head. “I apologise for calling you a silly goat, Gulabi,” says Chaibo, solemnly, then suddenly breaks into a series of giggles. All of this is rendered in Gulabi’s own voice.

Gulabi goes red in the face and folds her arms across her chest in a gesture of disdain. “You see? This is an impertinent, impossible tin box,” she declares to everyone, as if Chaibo has just sealed his own fate while vindicating her stand.

“Papyrus, I am sending you a memo on this matter, and a copy goes to Fin Fina and the big boss,” she huffs, and walks out of the room.

“You just put a nail in my coffin, Brooke,” you say, wearily.

“You heard Ironica, chief. Chaibo just says things that he makes up on his own. I can’t help it if he copies my style. What am I supposed to do, tie a diaper around his mouth? I have already sanitised his speech with the PCO, like Lola explained. What more can I do?” pleads Bond.

“What do we do to get to the bottom of this can of worms, Prof Asimova?” you ask the lady.

“The program is not designed to model some ideal gentlemanly or lady-like behaviour, Papyrus,” says Ironica. “We don’t set models of corporate behaviour. Our robots absorb and reflect the culture they are in, nothing more, nothing less. In this case, maybe Chaibo should be seeing less of Bond and more of Gulabi for a while. You know, just so that he gets friendly with her and begins to behave, shall we say, less boorishly when she’s around?”

“So it’s not really a bug we are trying to fix,” says Lola, shaking her head slowly, but still giving Bond what seems to be a look of amusement. “What we could plug in is a program override that will make it difficult for our adventurous Bond to make Chaibo indulge in rude pranks. Though, of course, the pranks are part of the Baffle culture, from what I can see.”

“And silly or not, Gulabi Manpowa was the scapegoat on the test?” you ask, rhetorically, looking at Bond with what you hope is a withering eye. Bond looks at you, his eyes open wide in an expression of bewildered hurt and innocence. You suspect it is directed more at Lola than at you.

“Guys, let’s sort this out peacefully, shall we?” says Ironica, raising her hand. “Why don’t we call Gulabi back in and show her a different side of Chaibo?”

After Gulabi stalks in and sit down, still looking grimly at you, you decide to offer her an olive branch.

“Gulabi and I understand that it is a learning process for Chaibo as much as it is for us here at Baffle,” you say, “but how would Chaibo respond to threats? We don’t want a war breaking out here, Prof. Asimova.”

Lola Lipton gets up without a word and deliberately knocks Chaibo over. The robot, quiet so far, looks hurt and growls. Then the aggravated machine rights itself, shakes off the affront, and stretches his feet as if to test them, then purrs. He walks away from Lola, ‘looking’ back over his shoulder as if attempting to process his first experience of cruelty.

“You see? He’s programmed to be non-aggressive,” says Ironica. “It’s just that he understands Lola’s no-nonsense personality traits a little more than he does of you, Gulabi. Go on, pat him now.”

Gulabi walks across and pats Chaibo’s head. Promptly, she finds the robot coming close to her feet and saying, “That was good, Gully. Pat me again, please?”

You, Papyrus, are startled to recognise your voice coming from the machine. And Bond has a suppressed grin on his face that explains it all.