Thanks to Hello Future Me for providing today’s episode.

If you’re not already familiar with his channel, he makes amazing video essays about

writing, science fiction and fantasy tropes, and theory videos covering Avatar: The Last

Airbender, How to Train Your Dragon, and others.

After watching this video on Detroit: Become Human and stories about artificial intelligence,

be sure to head over to his channel for our video on the Fire Nation and to subscribe

for more thoughtful content.

In 2037, the Detroit City Police Department discovered its first case in which an android,

lifelike robots designed by Cyberlife, defied orders from a human.

Rare cases at first, such androids became known as ‘deviants’.

Over the next year and a half, more androids would become deviants, leading to the eventual

Android Rights Movement that is sweeping the United States.

President Warren is yet to make an official statement, but its outcome is yet undetermined

and the country is divided: are they faulty technology and a threat to our way of life,

or a new kind of lifeform deserving of recognition?

It is often said that science-fiction acts as a cautionary tale of the future - and the

story of Quantic Dream’s 2018 game Detroit: Become Human is no different.

Science fiction has a tendency to explore or exploit technologies and science that humanity

does not yet fully understand and still, or perhaps should, fear.

The mysterious science of radiation and nuclear power was the catalyst for much of science fiction in

the height of the Cold War, when people feared nuclear fallout the effects of radiation.

It gave superpowers, hence its place in the 1961 publication of The Fantastic Four

but it also created monsters, hence the 1963 publication of The Hulk.

Playing into the fears, the excitement, the ambiguity.

And now, science fiction is exploring the possibility of an artificial intelligence,

but what are stories like Detroit: Become Human cautionary tales about?

What are they cautioning against?

Stories like Terminator or A.L.I.E in The 100 are cautionary tales of the dangers of

super intelligent A.I. with inhuman morals,

but stories like David Cage’s Detroit fit into a very specific subset of fiction alongside Westworld,

The Talos Principle, or Catherynne Valente’s Silent and Very Fast that ask: what happens

when artificial intelligence achieves personhood, or as the title says - becomes human?

To answer this, let’s have a look at how this question is usually explored - first on a thematic

level, and then how the plot supports it, to see the real cautionary tale behind it.

The Themes

The reason we’ll start with the themes is that more so than the plot or character, this

type of A.I story is often driven by a very particular thematic discussion that defines

the characters and story around it: because the focus is on A.I becoming ‘human’,

or more broadly a ‘person’, the story is less about what A.I means for humanity

and more about what it means to be human in the first place.

This is often done through a number of thematic literary tools, but we will focus on just two:

Symmetry and juxtaposition, and how they are used in Detroit.

Detroit draws a number of parallels to create a symmetry between our androids and our humans.

The most obvious is physical.

Markus bleeds a blue liquid when shot - a clear metaphor for blood that seems superfluous

given it’s unlikely that robots would ever need such a liquid inside them.

Connor has a body of metal and wires that moves no differently to one of blood and bone.

They don't even seem dramatically that much stronger.

Alice even has a heating mechanism to simulate a child getting cold; something that is ultimately

just added to intensify this parallel between the androids and humanity.

But the symmetry is also emotional.

Markus feels anger when he loses North, and experiences emotional conflict over choosing

violence or peaceful protest, we care about Hank’s alcoholism because Connor does, and

we can see feel the distress in Kara’s story when she’s captured by Zlatko.

Lastly, this kind of AI story usually draws symmetry relationally as well.

The relationship between Kara and Alice feels as real as any between a mother and daughter,

and Connor develops a true and genuine relationship of dependency with Hank.

The aim of this symmetry is to show that the A.I. is just as capable of the physical, emotional, and relational

dimensions of being human, or being a person.

And there is a very particular reason for this: by creating a symmetry between androids

and humans on these three different levels, the reader is left to question what marks the difference between artificial

intelligence and… intelligence?

Does it matter that humanity created them?

The setup, these themes are designed to deconstruct our understanding of ‘humanity’.

If our understanding of humanity is physical, it’s difficult to argue that having prosthetic limbs or mechanical

hearts make us less human, and thus their robotic bodies, their blue blood, their wires, should not make them lesser

people as well.

However, the physical dimension is sometimes lacking in these types of AI stories because

we don’t tend to identify humanity with our bipedal flesh and blood as much.

The 2005 film Stealth lacks the physical component when the AI is a plane instead of a bipedal figure.

But what about emotional or relational symmetry?

These are nearly always present in these types of stories because we identify these things with being more ‘human’

- Detroit definitely narrows in on this question.

In fact, the mark of a robot is often, in these types of stories, being cold and calculating:

“I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that"

This has led to a number of stories building the supposed distinction around empathy as

the defining human trait that distinguishes AI from humans - deviants in Detroit are

marked out by their empathy.

Kara shows empathy for Alice, Markus feels for North, and in the final moment in the Cyberlife

factory where Hank has to distinguish between the real and fake Connor, he identifies his friend

because the real Connor shows empathy for the loss of his son.

"My son, what's his name?"

"His name was Cole."

"It wasn't your fault, Lieutenant."

"A truck skidded on a sheet of ice and your car rolled over."

"I would've said the exactly the same thing!

"Don't listen to him Hank, I'm the one who-"

*gunshot*

Another example is Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, which utilises the same thematic technique, by having the

replicants supposedly distinguished by an inability to feel empathy, but the events

of the story, funnily enough, clearly show replicants like Roy Batty as the ones really feeling and expressing empathy or others.

After all, he's the one that saves Deckard in his final moment, while most of the humans in the story are pretty awful.

Because of our focus on humans being defined by some kind of deep emotional element or

relationship, the focus of these stories is often on the suffering, the happiness, or

the development of a meaningful relationship for the artificial intelligence across the story.

If it can do this, then the symmetry blurs the lines between us and them even further

and we see them as more human or more of a person.

This setup also means that the story tends to be more personal than other AI stories, for example, Terminator, where the AI may not

even be a protagonist.

And the symmetry in these stories is supported by our second literary device: juxtaposition, where the

actions and relationships of the AI are often juxtaposed to those of the real humans.

Kara’s decision to protect a child from abuse is juxtaposed with Todd’s decision

to abuse a child - Kara showing empathy where Todd does not, and Markus’ pleas for peace

and understanding are juxtaposed with the American Government’s hardline stance of oppression

up to the point of near genocide - he shows empathy where they do not.

This juxtaposition leaves us with the uncomfortable impression that the AI are the most ‘human’ characters

in the story and the line between them and us blurs to the point of non-existence.

In a sense, they seem even more human than the humans.

Whatever it narrows in on, like in the case of Detroit being genuine relationships of empathy,

that is usually the story’s answer to the question: what makes us human?

And this leads us into the plot.

Exploring this thematic setup commonly entails three plot points: the Defiance, the Revelation,

and the Denial.

One of the common arguments brought up in distinguishing AI from humanity or personhood

is free will.

That however realistic the AI might seem, it's ultimately superficial and just obeying its programming.

Its not really choosing anything

It’s for this reason that the events of the story often draw a parallel between DNA

and programming - information built into us that frames a lot of who we are, but doesn’t

mean we can’t decide freely.

This is why a crucial plot point of these narratives is often the Defiance: when the

AI defies some part of its programming.

In Detroit, Kara intervenes to save Alice from abuse despite Todd’s order, Markus

from killing another.

What’s interesting is that the Defiance point is rarely done offhandedly.

It is nearly always an intensely emotional moment, once again reinforcing this idea that

there is something distinctly ‘emotional’ like with Connor and Markus or ‘relational’

like with Kara about being human, about being a person.

In Detroit, this framework is all built towards breaking down our preconceived barriers between

androids and humans, which is also necessary for our investment in them as characters and their story, because

we care more about them if we can we empathise with them more,

and having genuine relationships built throughout the story as well as emotions and suffering and happiness,

things that we can believe in and feel ourselves, it makes it a lot easier for us to identify with them.

However, there are stories in this AI subset of fiction like this that don’t have the Defiance moment.

For example, 2019’s Alita: Battle Angel or 2015’s Chappie.

These stories sometimes focus on curiosity - that humanity is defined by its endless

desire to know for the sake of knowing.

We also see this in games like Phoning Home or to an extent W.A.L.L.E.

The second plot point is the Revelation.

This is when somebody else recognises the AI as a person with value.

And this isn’t always a human seeing an AI as real; in Blade Runner, it’s about the replicants

who recognise one another as real.

What matters is that in these stories, the revelation is often used to allow the AI to

develop emotionally and relationally.

It’s difficult to break down these preconceptions we talked about when they don’t have any

way to relate to the world around them.

The Revelation is Alice recognising Kara, is Hank recognising Connor, and is North recognising Markus.

Each of these relationships allow us see the AI develop emotions, attachments, and longings,

just like us, building into that symmetry.

On the other hand, the Denial is where a character denies their personhood, as with Richard Perkins

in Markus’ story or Zlatko in Kara’s story.

This often a source of conflict representative of that wider theme: what does

it mean to be human?

And this is kinda where many antagonists in these stories feel hollow because there are

legitimate questions about whether AI could ever be ‘human’ in any sense: a lot group

of the academic community believe that AI could easily simulate the effects of human emotions and behaviour perfectly,

but this is not the same as actually thinking and feeling it. It's just an incredibly good replication.

Detroit doesn’t really explore this in its story, leaving its antagonists largely devoid

of complexity - even if the game still resonates with you emotionally, which, for me, it totally, 100% did.

But how does all of this, the symmetry and juxtaposition,

this three plot point paradigm make Detroit a cautionary science-fiction

tale - like the ones we’ve read about the dangers of nuclear power, the dangers of time travel,

the dangers of interacting with aliens - there’s a lot about danger to be perfectly honest.

But Detroit isn’t about the danger of AI - at least, not the danger to us personally.

There's stories like Terminator for that.

No, this paradigm is a cautionary tale about how humanity will interact

when its position as the intelligent being is challenged.

Or not even challenged, but just merely equalled in the case of Detroit because androids don’t

seem immeasurably smarter or better than humans.

But the uncomfortable reality of AI is that it won’t be invented to be AI, to be an independent being of its own.

It’ll be created to help the elderly, to clean homes, to assist in crimes - but it’s

highly unlikely that it’ll be identical to humans psychologically, morally, or physically.

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t a person.

Detroit keys into and plays up this ambiguity in the world of science by making them wholly identical to us,

to confront us in the most visceral and real way, so that we're still asking ourselves the questions that we need to ask.

This is why the juxtaposition of say, their empathy vs our lack of empathy is really important,

it ties to confront us with the problems that we are going to face with this issue,

hoping to make us identify with the AI before we ever get to the point where we're oppressing them.

That’s what science fiction does: it takes the rapidly advancing and ever

expanding role of programmed intelligence in our world, and asks what we will do when

they get to this point? How will we respond?

But the dark reality of all of this is that

because these stories are so often framed for us to empathise with the AI, we tend to

imagine ourselves in the position of the one recognising them as real people with value

in the Revelation point.

But because we're going to design these creatures to serve us, to make our lives better, we don’t really have an incentive to

see them as equals.

The cautionary tale here is that we are not Rose helping Kara, Carl recognising Markus:

we are the Denial.

We are the ordinary public that sit on the fence and watch as a genocide takes place.

In line with the tradition of science fiction, Detroit is a cautionary tale of humanity's

worst impulses under pressure - a warning to consider how we will act if this eventuality

comes to pass.

Thanks again to Hello Future Me for today’s video.

If you enjoyed his content, you’ll find a link to his channel in the description,

and if you’d like to see our video about the history of The Fire Nation, check out

our video over on his channel.