Humour

Debugging Chaibo—3

Byramji investigates the current state of corporate robotics software design. T A Balasubramanian reports.

And so we go on another field trip with Doodh Byramji, known to friends as Doodh, or Doodhi. The enterprising Byramji is, of course, our eternally perplexed and curious design engineer of Baffle Technol-ogies, fondly called Baff-Tech.

“Doodh, we must get more intelligence about what the hell is going on inside the robotics software that we sourced from this place where you got the low-down for Chaibo, the chai server,” his CEO, Bikram Baffle had told him.

“Those guys at Baffle Corporation seem to be having a problem. Chaibo ruffled one of the officers there during a meeting by saying something offensive. We can’t have abusive robots coming out from our product line. I want a detailed report on what kind of programming is going into these robotic brains. Get out there and let me know what’s being concocted behind Ironica’s walls.”

So today, Byramji is back to investigate the current state of corporate robotics software design at the premises of Ironica Robotica, the cutting-edge robotics institute, which has recently started a new facility to make prototypes of futuristic business automations.

The action is all noted, of course, in the carefully written pages of Byramji’s faithful diary.

9:25 am: A meeting with Prof Ironica Asimova, and possibly with Lola Lipton, Chief Designer and head of the biodynotics team that developed Chaibo, is something I would never pass up, so here I am.

As usual, Kibos, the standard small, dog-like metallic creatures that I had encountered here earlier, now yelp a greeting as they recognise a familiar visitor.

One of them actually jumps on my lap and settles down with a purr of metallic bliss.

As I wait in the glass-and-chrome reception, I leaf through the premiere issue of Ironica Style, a new high-tone, full-colour magazine devoted to Ironica products, corporate client stories, technology updates and previews.

One section is unabashedly called a “manual for enterprise agglomeration” and it describes how meetings of the future will be conducted. Another details how to make a feature film with Ironica’s versatile Kibos acting as mobile cameras.

I find it interesting that the shiny dog in my lap can be transformed into a camera if required. Not something you can do with a plain organic poodle, for sure.

“Ironica will deliver multimedia content to the enterprise network running hardware, and, crucially, will sell the idea that Ironica digital products can bring out the inner corporate puppy in all of us,” says the gushing cover story.

There is an outsourcing story. Ironica Robotica has started up a brand new Corporate Science Laboratory in Bangalore.

“The lab is set up in a modest building that sits across from traditional Indian bungalows topped by tiled roofs,” says the writer.

Then on he goes, “Unlike many Ironica’s futuristic facilities, it does not look too impressive from the outside—just another nondescript tall glass-and-metal box. But step inside, and you will be transported into another world. Where most Ironica building interiors are quiet and furrowed with rows of matching desks, here a cacophony emanates from congested rooms stuffed with humming electronic equipment, tottering towers of papers, and unclassifiable thingamajigs.”

“Fascinating,” I think. “Just like my office at Baff-Tech. Creativity needs chaos, and chaos feeds creativity.”

“At Ironica’s Bangalore high-rise,” the story continues, “most Ironica men wear colourful shirts, and khakhi cargo pants with suspenders and about a dozen wide pockets all over their legs; Ironica women are generally turned out in form-fitting leotards in pastel colour combinations ranging from powder blue to pink. You can find, at CSL, a riot of garments in technicolour: an engineer in paisley here, another in shocking yellow there, even a guy lurking the hallways in a purple trench coat. And while the artwork on Ironica office walls—if there is any—tends toward cold abstractions, here, Senior Researcher Nina Nilgiri’s lab has Kareena Kapoor and Aamir Khan posters.”

There is a picture of smiling Nina herself, looking sleek and shapely in a knee-length dress with purple tones, a ribbon belt, large diamond earrings and dark shining hair slicked back.

“Well, well, they do have a trendy corporate style out there. That should bring out the outer corporate puppy, too,” I mutter.

The Kibo in my lap yaps in response, wagging his metal tail.

10.10 am: Prof Asimova, as usual looking ravishing with her long silvery hair arranged in a bun, wearing a flowery chiffon skirt and a sleeveless green blouse, walks in and greets me warmly.

“Ah, Byramji, or should I say Doodh? Welcome to our den. I see that my favourite puppy, Oolong, has decided to become your friend while you waited,” she says. “He has already learned about you and Baff-Tech from your previous visit.”

“Oh, but how does this learning happen?” I say, as Oolong jumps out of my lap and leaps up and down in front of my host, wagging his metallic tail.

“Kibo pups display an innate artificial curiosity similar to that seen in baby animals. They slowly learn to explore the surrounding world, before playing with toys and trying to communicate with other Kibo dogs,” says Ironica, laughing.

“How on earth do you create curiosity?” I ask, gaping.

“It’s quite easy, actually. We give each Kibo two software control mechanisms. Firstly, a ‘low-level learning system’ which controls simple behaviour but also tries to predict how this will affect the surrounding sensory world—how kicking a ball will cause it to move across the floor, for example. Secondly, a senior-level ‘meta-learning system’ which analyses the accuracy of predictions made by the low-level system and controls overall ‘motivation’. Intera-ction between these two gives Kibos like Oolong an uncannily inquisitive nature. All our dogs are inherently nosy, somewhat like real dogs, seeking out increasingly complicated scenarios with which to interact. But it also means they will effectively become bored with activities that do not stimulate them to their, albeit artificial, satisfaction.”

“Well, if they can be bored that easily, corporate situations may drive them crazy,” I suggest, thinking of the endless hours of meetings where I have practically nodded off on many occasions.

“That’s a possibility, yes. The idea is to build some sort of abstract motivation based on a form of curiosity,” says Ironica, smiling as Oolong plays a soft piece of music, apparently to himself. “Basically, these dogs search for situations in which they experience some sort of evolutionary progress.”

“There’s nothing too evolutionary about meetings and discussions,” I say, slowly. “Maybe you could program Kibos to tolerate boredom by say, switching off their power when things get too monotonous. Like we do.”

“Doodh, that is indeed a beautiful idea,” says Ironica, patting my cheek fondly.

I suspect that Ironica has already thought of my idea, and is just patronising me. “Maybe we will adopt it in our next software upgrade.”

“Talking of software upgrades,” I say uneasily, “I understand that Chaibo has been causing some trouble in Baffle Corporation.”