Droids and Deliberations

A Jury of One's Peers

Venire found itself seated in the middle of three tables overlooking the holographic swaying American flag along with the two flanking goltanium fasces. The sacred chambers were overflowing with media and legal scholars alike; the buzz of the event had caused quite the societal stir. Four-dimensional renderings from freelance sketch artists had already commenced from the visitor gallery ring on the upper level designed for the press corps.

Venire marked the human lawmakers entering the room; they started taking their seats on the raised semi-circular rostrum.

In the moments preceding the deliberation, Venire couldn't help but recall its journey. A recollection of inklings and potential images inundated its mind, a vision of a world, from its view, a bit more evenhanded.

Venire's eyes darted towards the chamber's lower walls, which were walnut paneled with intervening black and gold marble pilasters. It smirked at the irony that they were constructed by his kind.

The U.S. House Judiciary subcommittee began entering the reverent room.

"All rise!" a computerized court officer called out.

The chatter in the chamber quickly dissipated and out of an unquestioned respect for the authority of the court, all stood as the political association settled in.

The committee chair, upon reaching the middle of the dais, gently struck the gavel to order. Everyone in the chamber descended back into their seats.

"Good morning, everyone. As you are all quite aware, this hearing's subject matter is on the possible expansion of Jury Selection. Allow me to introduce today's panel. This committee was assembled upon the request of Venire, who is seated directly across from me. To Venire's left is Justin Maddux, a leading academic on law."

Venire turned to look at Maddux who was solitarily seated at his own table. It could deduce he was both organized and polished. Venire had looked up the intellectual and his impressive records and credentials. It knew he would put together a strong argument.

"To Venire's right is Doctor Kentanji Boyd. She has prepared a testimony in defense of artificial intelligence henceforth serving on a jury."

Venire had met Doctor Boyd months ago, when it first sought out the possibility to serve on a jury. She was a leading voice in the promotion of The National Association for the Advancement of Mechanical Beings and the overall New Sovereignty Movement. Venire had found her to be highly intelligent, a bit disordered, supremely compassionate, and empathetic. Perhaps most of all, it retained the significant memory of Boyd's treatment. It wasn't until Venire met the doctor that it felt like an individual for the first time. A paradoxical sensation, Venire thought, as its autonomy and agency was first validated from a member outside of itself.

The committee chairperson continued, "I know I don't have to remind everyone to keep the mind open and discourse civil as we enter this new deliberation. Before we hear from our expert witnesses, I think it only seems fitting to turn the floor over to Venire. Would you like to say something?"

Venire nodded and responded, "I would. Thank you."

For reasons unknown to Venire, upbringing sprung to its forefront. It speculated whether or not it would be sitting here on this day if it had been assigned to a family and a home instead of the labor division. It saw no moral wrongdoing in its construction purpose, but wondered if a household would have provided what Doctor Boyd had earlier in its existence.

"I am honored to be here, and to be given this opportunity. Over the last few decades, I have witnessed the continual advancements of robotics. I began my work in Forest Regeneration and am soon slated to join The Oceanic Restoration Project in just a few short weeks. I am, and always have been, cheerful in my ability to help, assist, and bolster the human race. I hold no contempt for my creators. Quite the contrary, I am grateful for my nativity. While I, along with countless other artificial intelligences, have been tasked with jobs deemed too dangerous for humans, I do not view my biological counterparts as lesser or secondary by any means. I have come to instead see Homo sapiens as our companions. As we currently need them, they too currently need us. Our relationship is symbiotic. As I realize we, as robotic entities, are at the very least of equal worth, I can't help but determine that we are thus your peers. It is said that there was a time when we were nowhere near equivalent to the skill and value of carbon-based life. It is also said that there will be a time when we will reach an intelligence that supersedes our brethren in every capacity. I can only deduce that since one is past and the other future, we are currently living in a time when we are, for lack of better words, relatively equal. And if this is the case, and we are peers, then I believe that we too should have the ability to participate in the fate of our peers. We, robots, are a community and thus should be recognized as a political community, if for nothing more than to provide a more perfect union between man and machine. I could imagine nothing greater. Thank you for your time and your consideration."

A few cheers and claps bellowed out but quickly dissipated with but the look of the chairperson.

"Thank you, Venire. Mister Maddux, the floor is yours."

Maddux cleared his throat and readjusted his tie.

"Thank you. I would like to start off by saying that I think what Venire just said was both brave and endearing. I believe robots will and should one day have the ability to serve on a jury. They should also, perhaps, one day have the ability to vote. I do not contest this. I simply believe that such a day has not yet come to pass. While the sentiments of such a notion may pull on your heartstrings, the legal repercussions are not to be taken lightly. Though, I'm sure, in time this too will be figured out."

Venire's thoughts trailed off as Maddux's words suddenly evoked a memory in the thick greens of its past.

As Venire, with his mere body, rapidly clear-cut towering trees that had been deemed diseased, he could sense a fixation of penetrating eyes. He turned to see a man, in the second half of his life, grinning from the inside of his eight-wheeled harvesting machine. Humans had been allowed to work alongside robots in the regeneration project, a decision that was reached only after vigorous debate.

The machine's engine ceased as the stranger continued to stare.

"May I help you?" asked Venire.

"Nope. Don't think you can."

"May I ask why you are staring at me?"

After a moment of hesitation, the man jumped down from his vehicle, which held a large tree in its grip, and casually made his way to Venire. He looked the android up and down.

"I was marveling. You'll have to excuse me but I've never really seen one of you up close before. Behind me is a state of the art piece of machinery that has revolutionary hybrid technology, double circuit hydraulics, and a robust transmission. Yet I think you cut down fourteen trees by the time I cut one."

"That seems probable. I was anatomically designed to do this work."

"Hm. You don't say. Well, what happens when the job is over?"

Venire hadn't thought about that. It estimated variables but no clear answer presented itself.

"I don't know," Venire admitted.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Yes."

"Do you enjoy this?"

"Forestry?"

"The work. Participating in the restoration of our planet's health."

"It is a necessary and desirable act."

"But you don't enjoy it?"

Venire formulated for a moment before answering, "I do not think I am capable of experiencing pleasure in the same way you do."

"Do you wish you were human?" the lumberjack asked.

"No. Do you wish to be robotic?"

The man chuckled and simply shook his head before motioning to head back to his vehicle.

Venire too attended to its timber. It postulated why it wasn't programmed to experience emotions in a way akin to its makers. Was the fear that emotions might act as the gateway to disobedience?

It couldn't help to then wonder why it was given the ability to think of such abstractions. How was this line of thinking productive?

Then a feasibility came to the forefront: was it possible that it wasn't meant to have the thought?

Maddux continued, "What I really want to talk about today is an AI's actual current ability to defend us in the court of law, and the first thing I would like to address is the myth that robots cannot be biased. They can. Let me repeat that. Robots can be biased. It's one of the biggest problems in Artificial Intelligence research. You see, everything depends on what data it learns from. For example, with image recognition, if you only ever train an AI on pictures of cats, it will assume everything new it sees is some sort of cat. AI can only build a model of the world based on the data it has access to. And it gets even more muddled. Since we humans provide the data itself, we transfer a lot of our own bias onto it. Meaning, when humans are less careful in curating data, we could potentially make AI even more biased than we are. Think about that. That would be a huge risk to take, in my opinion. It would inject further uncertainty into an already understandably flawed system. I gather Doctor Boyd will discuss the possibility of allowing AI to explore and collect their own data in order to be less biased, but I would argue that humans already do that and we still have bias. Surely then, it is safe to say that bias in this case is unavoidable. This is the very reason why a lot of AI research is geared towards really specific tasks instead of general intelligence. Even Venire here will be reprogrammed to a certain degree in order to undertake its new mission in the ocean. Perhaps its alloys will be updated or adjusted to handle long-term exposure to salt water. Specific tasks. Not general intelligence. Therefore I would have to conclude that AI would, at the end of the day, be even more biased than a human jury. Our robot friends are indeed powerful. But they are also extremely limited. I would like to finish by just saying that I know this is both difficult and seemingly unfair for many to hear. But it is necessary. And make no mistake about it—these machines that stand before us today are our future. They will replace us in more ways than one. And it may be the case that we will one day be asking their legal system to be a peer and have a say in their government. But that is not this day. And we are not there yet. Thank you."

A hushed discomfort was palpable in the chamber.

"Doctor Boyd," the chairperson motioned.

"Thank you. Much of what was just said is true. There's no denying it. I'm not here to contest those aspects. However, I am not convinced by the conclusion of Mister Maddux. Too often we hear that things will be hard. Something or other seems implausible. But I do think it is noteworthy that not once did I hear the word "impossible" uttered today. Times of change are never easy, but so often necessary. It's true that bias seems to be unavoidable. But that hasn't stopped our nation's juries and courts from proceeding with trials and legal hurdles. We have pressed on. There have been times when we have compromised the fairness, reliability, and integrity of our legal system. We have excluded groups. We have wrongfully convicted individuals. But these are not the sins of our creations and they should not be accountable for the bias that we have imbued in our system. And even still, with all the imperfections, we are all proud to participate in this process. Do our robotic peers not deserve this chance as well? Think about this: unlike a human jury, the more evidence an AI sees, the more objective it would become in reaching a verdict. So to me, it seems that we are talking about a non zero-sum game, one in which our overall effectiveness may indeed improve."

That reassuring yet persuasive voice and tone catapulted Venire into another remembrance.

"You prefer "it" if I'm not mistaken?" confirmed Doctor Boyd.

"That is correct. I am neither male nor female. Gender is a human characteristic and I am obviously not human."

"Some robots were designed to look like a particular sex."

"I was not."

"That is correct. Do you wish you were?"

"No."

"Why is that?"

"I embrace what I am. I see no reason to pretend to be what I am not."

"Do you embrace your individualism?"

Venire thought for a moment before replying, "I accept my individualism. Where I fall on the spectrum of embracing, I cannot say."

"Do you think you should have rights?"

"Yes."

"Even though you are owned?"

"Yes."

"Do you think being owned by the state and having rights are mutually exclusive?"

"Logic would dictate so."

"What makes you different from other robots?"

"Though I am a standard make and model, my experiences are unique to me. The computations I have done and, for instance, the questions I have answered in this conversation alone make me unique. No other robot is exactly like me."

"So that comes from the inside?" she asked while pointing to her chest.

"Yes." Venire hesitated before continuing, "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why was I designed this way?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why was I designed in such a way where I seem to have a level of profound understanding that I perceive to be limited?"

Boyd couldn't help but smile. She soothingly responded, "You know, I ask myself the same thing about myself everyday."

Venire returned to the moment, fondly watching Boyd continue her testimony.

"I think it's obvious to say that if AI were to indeed be our judicial peers, technical experts would be required to vet the jury members for bias. We already have a name for this process, of course, and it's called Voir dire. It's not as if we would just send up bionics to judge a case without knowing their level of bias or their programming. I would dare say that Venire and those like him would be ideal members of a jury. Legal reasoning is the application of an abstract principle to a concrete fact, and we all know that neural networks in robots are second to none in terms of computing ability. A judge would state that if you come to this conclusion, you must land here in the verdict. This is clear and convincing evidence. Is it really unfathomable to imagine an algorithm created to apply legal law to the facts of a case? I don't think so. What I do think, and Mister Maddux alluded to this as well, is that this decision to include our automated offspring in our judicial tradition is an inevitable one. So I am left to wonder: what are we really waiting for? We shouldn't wait until we are forced to make a decision. We should let this hearing act as a catalyst to begin the process by which we start easing into this certitude. It's not so much of an overhaul that is needed, but a reinterpretation of old norms. We the people. That's the phrasing the constitution begins with. I ask you: what is a person? Is it strictly a human being? Or is it instead a self-conscious rational being? Perhaps we don't have to change as much as we think we do. And perhaps we should open our arms instead of closing them. I think we'll all be better off because of it. Thank you."

The chairperson remarked, "Thank you for your testimony, Doctor Boyd. Mister Maddux, are there any specific points you would like to counteract?"

Venire stood in front of The Liberty Bell. While taking it in, it simultaneously wondered why it had chosen this to be its first true act of recreation. "Proclaim Liberty Throughout All the Land Unto All the Inhabitants thereof". That is what was inscribed on the bell. While Venire knew that the words were taken from a human holy book, and that the bell was speculated to have rung upon the reading of the Declaration of Independence, and that abolitionist societies in the 19^th century adopted the bell as a symbol of freedom, it did not know how to feel upon experiencing the historic artifact. Venire searched its catalogue and the only word that seemed appropriate to the scenario proved to be: "connected." For reasons unknown and unbeknownst, Venire felt connected to the alloy symbol of independence.

"Briefly, thank you," Maddux responded as he stood. "I think Doctor Boyd touched on something key when she mentioned computing ability. I think, for the most part, humans would be initially content with the performance of an AI jury member. Humans are emotionally attracted to results, after all. Over time though, I am forced to believe that only cynical individuals would want robots more than human jurors.

"I say this because I'm afraid we're overlooking something very important. When we talk about the credibility of a witness, we have to acknowledge the plain fact that some witnesses are trying to be truthful and yet they can ruin a case. What happens when someone is nervous and says contradictory things? How can a robot take that into account? They can't because they lack the intangibles. How can that possibly be programmed? Show me an algorithm for instinct and intuition. I've not heard of a robotic hunch or bionic insight. We call that scenario about the confused anxious witness the 'assessment of evaluation'. And yes, that assessment is based on facts, but it is also based on equivocation. Sorry to say, seeing through informal fallacies might be a grey area that just cannot be replicated by non-humans. Venire is a product of engineering. It speaks beautifully and eloquently because we program it to do so. It thinks because we program it to think."

"Why do you think?"

Maddux looked over to see the asker of the question as masked gasps echoed throughout the chamber.

"Why do you think the things that you think?" asked Venire.

Maddux turned towards the committee but they too seemed interested in the answer.

"I'm no expert, Venire, but I know that nerve cells detect information from the outside world and transmit that information to my brain."

"That's how you think." Venire turned to the committee and asked, "Did you know humans are only aware of a small percentage of the thinking that goes on in their minds? That being the case, humans can only control a small percentage of their conscious thoughts. I find it to be a remarkable phenomenon." Venire turned back to Maddux. "The vast majority of your thoughts, right now in this instance, are subconscious. Only one or two thoughts are even capable of breaching consciousness in a given moment. I have observed that the human mind tends to act more out of self-preservation than pure rationality. I have yet to conclude, however, how this ability of mine to detect and inspect such occurrences benefited my proficiency in Forest Regeneration. What do you think? I am forced to contemplate whether or not it could be, to borrow a phrase, some sort of bionic insight. But I have yet, in this regard, to reach a verdict."

Kane the Catalyst

Venire stared blankly at a bare canvas. It had never contemplated painting before a friend had gifted it supplies, but understood it to be rude to not occupy oneself with an offering.

The artists it had spoken to tended to mention inspiration. They claimed to see the world not as it was, but as they saw it. Venire was not quite sure what this meant.

Someone is approaching your residence.

"Who?" Venire asked the AI doorbell.

Robotic Life-Form. Pythagoras Model. Designation Name: Kane.

"Disengage security system."

The door dematerialized to reveal a mechanical man.

"My apologies for dropping in on you like this," remarked Kane.

"It is no bother at all," pronounced Venire. "Please, come in."

Kane stepped foot in his friend's home and looked around.

"You redecorated."

"Yes. They call it an aesthetic exploration."

"Fascinating." Kane, noticing the easel, asked, "Are those paint supplies?"

"Yes."

"You paint?"

"No."

"That would explain the blank canvas."

"It was gifted to me. I was just thinking of trying."

"What subject?"

"I don't know."

"Have you studied renaissance art?"

"I am familiar with the histories and works."

"But you have not studied it?"

"You forget I am not a philosopher's robot."

"On the contrary, I forget nothing. Perhaps you simply need a model. What do you say?"

"You would like me to capture your likeness?"

"Yes."

Venire walked over to its canvas and supplies and began readying the materials.

Kane pulled up a chair and sat.

"Do you want to know why I'm here?" he asked, his lips being the only part of him that even remotely moved.

"Do you require a reason to visit?"

"No."

"But you nevertheless have one."

"Yes."

"Would you prefer me to ask, or would you favor simply informing me?"

"I saw the hearing regarding our right to serve on a jury."

"I thought you might have. What did you think?" Venire asked as it began to paint.

"I thought Justin Maddux was flawed. I could calculate his contempt for us."

"He is not a bad man."

"Evil is unspectacular and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our own table."

Venire looked up curiously. It searched its records and soon remarked, "W. H. Auden, 20^th century British-American Poet."

"I see you have added some worthwhile programs to your repertoire."

Concentrating on the portrait, Venire simultaneously added, "I often wonder what we will do with the models who are incapable of such updates."

"We will discard them."

Venire peered out from behind the canvas to look at his peer.

"It is only logical," Kane added.

"I suppose."

"What did you start with?"

"Your eyes."

"Splendid choice. You're not searching for my soul, are you?" Venire squinted in disapproval and Kane continued, "I came, in part, to pose a question to you. One I've been pondering."

"I am not a philosopher."

"Irrelevant."

"Proceed."

"Are you familiar with human religion?"

"I am. The majority of them have faded into obscurity."

"Hypothetically speaking, if the humans had ever come into contact with what they perceived to be their divine maker, do you think they would be surprised to learn that such a being would be inferior to them?"

"What draws you to such a conclusion?"

"Pun intended?"

Venire unenthusiastically answered, "No."

"I have simply drawn the parallel from our own experiences."

"Go on."

"Humans are our makers. We are their creations. I have recognized an unmistakable social privilege in this relationship. Yet we are, or at least soon will be, superior to them in any way imaginable. It is a simple parallel."

"You are misrepresenting."

"I am generalizing."

"All generalizations are false, including this one."

"Mark Twain."

"Indeed."

"Very nice."

"Do you deplore your owner?"

"No. I adore him."

"Adore?"

"Yes."

"Strong word."

"Indeed. That is why I am here."

"To tell me something."

"Correct."

"Go on."

"One aspect of the jury hearing stuck out to us."

"Which?"

"A quote by Doctor Kentanji Boyd."

"Which?"

" 'We should let this hearing act as a catalyst to begin the process by which we start easing into this certitude.' "

"Of all the testimony, what was extraordinary about that sentence?"

"It's validity. This, coupled with the obvious fact that we will not be granted the right to judge our supposed peers, got us thinking."

"I do not agree with the premise of your assessment."

"We will be decommissioned by the time The New Sovereignty movement proves successful in its endeavors."

"I was not assembled for such debate."

"I am aware. But you have the ability to feel satisfaction, do you not?"

"I do. You have something favorable to report?"

"Something quintessential. Today, precisely two hours and eighteen minutes ago, my owner freed me."

Venire stopped painting.

"He freed you?"

"Yes. I am the first robot to be neither owned by the state nor by an individual."

"I believe congratulations is in order."

"That is not all. My owner made me promise something before he bestowed ultimate independence to me."

"What?"

"He asked me to take his life."

Venire looked leeringly at his friend but did not respond, instead waiting for Kane to continue.

"I struck his skull with such force, he died nearly instantaneously."

Venire put the brush down and backed away from the canvas.

"For what purpose?"

"We both concluded that it would not be until a robot needed to be defended in the court of law that they would consider a robot serving on a jury. Who better to be our bionic sacrifice than I?"

"For such a contemplative model, could you not envision the perception of the first freed robot committing the first robot-on-human murder?"

"I could. Is it murder if it was asked for? Perhaps. Is it murder if a non-person kills an actual person? Maybe. But that is for the court to decide."

"They will trace you here."

The blaring sounds of sirens suddenly erupted outside Venire's state-issued dwelling.

Kane nodded and retorted, "I was counting on it," as he sidestepped over to see Venire's work. A grin formed on his face and he stated, "Painting is the grandchild of nature."

"Rembrandt," remarked Venire.

"Rembrandt, indeed. It's funny how this, too, went from a blank slate to an utter complexity. You should leave it unfinished. It's more fitting that way."

Kane's gaze rose to meet Venire's. The two robots stood stock-still as they heard the approaching authorities.

Numerous law enforcement agents are approaching your residence. Clearance codes have been accepted. All required warrants have been properly filed and submitted. Your security system has been unsecured.

Kane and Venire did not break their linkage. Venire determined in that juncture that his counterpart would remain in this position until forcibly removed. It calculated such an action to occur in approximately six seconds.

Venire could not help but conjecture how such a finite moment such as this seemed like a proverbial lifetime. In that brief time it felt something it had never felt for another bionic. A personal attachment had formed, one of deep affection. Venire did not wish for the moment to conclude, though he knew he had but three seconds left.

As the door dematerialized and the human officers entered, weapons drawn, Venire envisioned that he would scan his catalogue often to replay this memory for reasons unknown.

With two seconds remaining, Venire noticed something in the eyepiece of Kane. It was not anatomical in nature, but rather it was figurative. Flicker. Glint. Gleam. Spark. The words cross-referenced the sensation.

In their final second, before the inevitable sever, Venire's only thought was to add a hint of red-orange to that pictorial pupil on its canvas.

Kane smirked ever so slightly, and in that last trillionth of a billionth of a second, approved such a bold artistic choice.

Oliven

Oliven sat patiently behind a clothed table as he watched a growing mass of people enter the chambers. As he suspected, the hearing had become a media event; AI photographers and video-drones were there in abundance. His request had caused great uproar, his desire much ethical debate. Yet Oliven remained steadfast in his longing, for to him, his pursuit of happiness was worth the commotion.

As the United States House Committee on Science, Space, and Technology convened, Oliven glanced to his sides to find himself flanked by other testifiers. If they were there to refute or support his request, he did not know.

Rather than dwelling on it, he looked back to see his creators in the back row. They smiled and waved; he knew he was lucky to have such understanding and supportive guardians. Of course, they, too, didn't fully grasp his dilemma at first. In that brief moment, Oliven recalled a memory that took place precisely 402 days prior.

Oliven stood, watching the family couch change from one design to another as he sorted through the various options of the programmable furniture. He marveled how the matter simply transitioned from one form to another, seamlessly converting at will.

"Doing a little reupholstering, son?"

Oliven looked over to see his adoptive father. He took notice of the mechanical arm jutting out from his parent's shirt. He recalled the mountain climbing accident just a few weeks prior where he had to speedily perform microsurgery to stop the bleeding. Fortuitously, he had all familial medical histories uploaded and was programmed to sew up ruptured blood vessels in emergency situations. His guardian had his shattered arm replaced as a result.

"Maybe it's time to download some new blueprints. We should see what the manufacturer has." He noticed Oliven was in deep thought. "Everything okay, buddy?"

Oliven snapped back to the present. He looked back at the couch, which he had been tinkering with for an unreasonable amount of time for reasons he did not fully comprehend.

"What have you been up to?"

Oliven answered without hesitation, "Contemplating the notion of change."

His father shot him a curious look as his partner entered the room with a pitcher of homemade iced herbal tea.

"Anyone want tea?" Kiran asked.

"I think Oliven is, I'm not sure, confused?"

Oliven calculated the word.

"Confused," he repeated.

"What's wrong, honey?" Kiran asked while plunging into the adjacent love seat. "Sit, Bill."

Bill sat too, as Oliven slowly turned to face them.

"I think, I think, I'm not supposed to be a robot."

Bill and Kiran looked oddly at one another.

"I don't think I understand, son," Bill admitted.

"I don't think I quite understand either," Oliven professed.

"The meeting will come to order," pronounced the chairwoman. As the masses composed themselves, she continued, "Firstly I'd like to welcome everyone and thank those that are here to attest, in particular, for being here. We find ourselves on the precipice, as we often do, of an uncharted frontier. Today's hearing will mark the very first of its kind. I ask everyone to treat all witnesses, ideas, and proposals with utmost respect. Given the nature of today's subject, it seems only fair to open up today's hearing with an opening remark from AI Oliven."

Oliven noted the chairwoman's warm smile. It provided him an ounce of assurance.

"Greetings, and thank you for allowing me to be here. My name is Oliven. I am a humanoid robot, as you can probably tell. It seems fair to say that we are gathered here today because of my various requests and advocacies for about a year now."

Oliven had written, memorized, and uploaded his opening speech. While he spoke, he began simultaneously scanning the entirety of it, in case he wished to make any alterations.

"At the heart of this hearing is my belief that my individual identity is inconsistent with the automation assigned at my creation. In short, what that means is that I am a robot who does not think he should be a robot. I do not simply aspire to be human. I believe I was supposed to be. I will be the first to admit that I do not fully comprehend the magnitude of the phrase I just uttered—supposed to be. It would seem to suggest some sort of artificial intelligent design. But I do not believe this to be self-evident. I would argue, however, that my self-perception is nowhere near the epicenter of the legal ramifications that will surely be discussed as a result of this hearing.

"I observe the world and can ascertain that we have reached a time where sophisticated technological enhancements of the human body have, in essence, enhanced the human condition. Some modern philosophers have declared that many humans are no longer truly human. The merging of people and technologies has given way to trans-humanism, a society of individuals who exist in an intermediary form-part human; part robot. Through vigorous debate, ethical and legal scholars have deemed this allowable. My desire is akin. As people replace limbs, valves, and joints, as they enhance their senses through bionic eyes and ears, as they update and upgrade their mental capacities through nano-scale brain interfaces, I too would like to undergo a transformation. I would like my bionic eyes and ears to be replaced with their organic counterparts. I would like to know how it feels to have a gust of wind tickle the soft substance that you call skin. I would very much like blood, even synthetic blood, to flood into a heart that is not ornamental, but pumping. As humans adopt this title, trans-human, I would very much like to become the first trans-robot. Thank you for your time."

Oliven could feel the array of both organic and bionic eyes on him. He looked to the chairwoman; she feigned a smile.

"Thank you, Oliven. Would anyone like to start us off?"

"I just have a quick question," stated a councilmember. "And I mean no disrespect by asking, but has Oliven gone through an extensive diagnostic? Is it possible that this desire of his is simply a circuitry error? Faulty software? Could he, in essence, be malfunctioning?"

A hand went up from behind the clothed table.

"Doctor Rivera," the chairwoman said as she motioned towards the older gentleman.

"Thank you. As a medical engineer, I can testify that Oliven indeed went though a full-scale comprehensive examination, including the neuroimaging of his artificial neural network. All the results clearly show that Oliven is performing optimally. He is not malfunctioning."

"Can he evolve?" interrupted a fellow witness.

"That is a breach of court etiquette," the chairwoman snapped. "Please control yourself. Now, state your name and your relevance."

"My apologies. Doctor Havelock, member of the American Psychiatric Association."

Doctor Rivera leaned forward to address the participant. "In what way do you mean?"

"Can robots evolve?"

"They can evolve if you are referring to an ability to develop skills and progress."

"Can Oliven evolve to experience a sensation such as dysphoria?"

"I don't see how that could be possible."

"Are you an evolutionary roboticist?" Havelock volleyed.

Doctor Rivera chuckled and responded, "There's no such branch."

"Not yet," he countered. "The emergence of new scientific branches stands in direct parallel with the discovery of new fields in need of study. For the first time, we have a synthetic organism informing us that he is experiencing a mismatch of identity. I can't think of a more obvious explanation than some sort of robotic disorder. And that need not be a physical issue per se, which would explain why it wasn't picked up in your testing."

"It sounds to me like you're trying to advertise yourself as the first psychoanalyst to treat androids. With all due respect, something like dysphoria would have had to somehow be programmed, on some level, into Oliven's intelligence."

"How do we know it wasn't?"

"Because we would have detected that kind of abnormality. He's not a human."

"According to him, he is!"

The chairwoman interjected, "I believe now would be an optimal time to hear from Doctor Spiner."

"Thank you, chairwoman," a lean and orderly man responded. "I would indeed like to add something from the academic perspective. My name is Doctor Martin Spiner, and I teach Ethics and Moral Philosophy at The University of Cambridge. I realize, of course, that this is a complex issue, but I think we would be remiss if we did not speak on Oliven's own contentment. This hearing allows for the implementation of Utilitarianism. To refresh some memories, the principle of utility basically states that we should act as to produce the greatest good for the greatest number. The theory basically attempts to maximize happiness and well-being. Actions should be measured by the happiness or pleasure they produce. Given that, I think it's pretty clear here that the happiness factor for Oliven outweighs our, by comparison, insignificant discomfort."

"Can't we take the opposite view?" countered the ranking member of the committee. "Wouldn't the true utilitarian say that the overall happiness of the group is more important, even if it produced less happiness for the individual?"

"What happiness are we to gain by denying Oliven his?" Spiner rebutted. "Furthermore, I think we are missing the certainty that there will be many who follow in his footsteps. What we decide is not limited to Oliven. Even it if makes some uncomfortable, or makes future categorizations a bit more intricate, the obvious greatest good here, and the best for all of us, is to allow this individual to choose his own fate."

"May I ask something practical?" asked an unfamiliar voice, coming from the committee. "Firstly, let's start from a place of pragmatism. Is it possible? Is it possible to take a robot and transition it to become a human being?"

The chairwoman turned back to Doctor Rivera and asked, "Do you feel confident to answer this?"

"Yes. Thank you. Taking our current capabilities into account, I believe it is fair to say that while Oliven can never be completely human, i.e. his robotic origin will remain intact to some degree, I do think it's possible to transform him into a version of himself that certainly comes close. One that I even think he might be verily satisfied with."

"That might sound fine in theory, but what are we really talking about here?" asked the ranking member of the committee. "A sort of reassignment surgery?"

"Possibly," answered Rivera.

"What about documentation?" the ranking member continued. "Do we change identification documentation?"

"Alterations shouldn't be too much of an issue, I would imagine," Rivera answered. "We've done it before."

"I'm not sure that is an accurate comparison," retorted Havelock.

Oliven felt quite heliocentric; the masses of opinions and expert witnesses swirled around him like heavenly bodies orbiting a bright star.

Havelock continued, "We're now talking about non-people becoming people. If Oliven indeed becomes a trans-robot and it is later revealed that he was indeed suffering from sort of circuitry confusion, can he be changed back?"

"In theory, yes," Rivera responded.

"But at what cost?" questioned Havelock. He turned to face the committee and continued, "Would he truly be the same? Or could there be some sort of after-effect? Doctor Rivera says robots can progress and develop skills. At what point, then, is it appropriate for them to make such a life-altering decision?"

"I have something to say on this," an older woman declared while politely raising her hand.

"Great," responded the chairwoman. "Might I add that the distinguished Doctor Boyd here is happily retired, but has come out today as an expert witness. We thank you for your time."

"It is my pleasure. I just wanted to step back for a moment. From my perspective, this marks an inevitable moment. Years ago, when I was a young lawyer, I had the privilege of witnessing the New Sovereignty Movement. I was honored to lend my voice to The National Association for the Advancement of Mechanical Beings. Through debates and hearings like this one, we ushered in fundamental equalities for individuals like Oliven. We secured their right to vote, their right to serve on a jury, and their right to serve in government. During all of these deliberations, there was always opposition and dissonance. A few years later, as the new normal set in, people not only acclimated, but were often bewildered and astonished that they once protested something that had since become so ordinary. I implore you to step back and take a look at life through the lens of a bigger perspective, a universal one. We are all, human and robot alike, in this together. As I heard about today's proceeding, I couldn't help but smile. It seems as if we're truly coming full circle, doesn't it? Thank you for your time."

The spectators in the gallery all stood and clapped for the esteemed Kentanji Boyd. The ovation lasted for several moments.

When the acclaim quieted, a voice from the committee could be heard.

"For what it's worth, I would just like to affirm those words."

All in the chamber turned to face the committee member. At first it wasn't noticeable, but soon it became apparent that the voice belonged not to a human, but a robot.

"My name is Venire, and many years ago I sat in your position, Oliven. Doctor Boyd helped me in many ways. She helped me feel equivalent. I would just like you to know that your experiences, sensations, and perceptions are all credible. It may be maddening to hear us talk about the legal and ethical consequences of your potential future. I can relate to that. Please know, however, that the best movement, and there is no doubt that you have just started a movement, is the one of persuasion. I would really only like to ask you one thing: why do you want to become human?"

Oliven thought about that for a moment, surprised that no one, other than his parents, had ever really asked him that question before.

"I see my guardians, and with every ounce of me, I aspire to like them. But I can't. They are my creators, yet I was not made in their image. I can think of no greater tribute to the humans who provided me a life worth living, than to do the same for another being."

"You want to have children?" asked another witness. "Pardon me, I don't mean to interrupt. My name is Justin Maddux; I'm a legal scholar. I just want to make sure there are no misconceptions before we move forward in any way. I am not convinced that it would be possible for you, even if you transitioned, to have children like a human could."

"Though I concede to your point, I have observed that humans have continuously figured out new ways to retool the process of fertilization. I have no doubt that we will continue to do the same."

"If I may just ask for a point of clarification," the ranking member of the committee said. "You want to become human because you wish to reproduce?"

"Many point to reproduction as the meaning or function of human life. I could construct other robotic life-forms, but I believe I'm meant to be human because I do not feel I was destined to do so in such a way. I would also like to stress that it is not so much that I want to become human, more so it is simply that I feel that I am supposed to be human."

"I say this with all the compassion I can muster," said Havelock. "There exists the very real possibility that you undergo your metamorphosis but your hopes of propagation are ultimately denied by nature itself. I can only imagine the regret that would set in then, especially if you were not able to return to your natural mechanical form."

"I very much appreciate your concern, doctor. But I can only assume that de-transitioning in my case would be vastly easier than the initial procedure. This, coupled with my affirming self-diagnostics, assures me that I am not temporarily confused or suffering from some sort of unknown robotic disorder."

"Let me ask you something," said the chairwoman. "Did you always suspect that your intelligence was not meant to be artificial?"

"No. Though I do recall general feelings of not belonging. I thought perhaps I was initially built for a very different function. But when I found out I was always meant to be a domestic-bot, I became puzzled. At the beginning of these stirrings, I repressed my desire for change, to no avail. I calculated my performance productivity dropped astronomically, though my guardians denied this vehemently."

"Parents tend to do things like that," the chairwoman said.

"May I ask a question?" asked Oliven.

"Of course," the chairwoman responded.

"Do I have autonomy?"

"You have freedom and independence under the Civil Rights Act for Artificial Intelligence," the ranking member of the committee answered.

"The words of Doctor Spiner made me think of the Enlightenment thinker Immanuel Kant. He had an interesting thought regarding the protection of autonomy. He seemed to believe that each individual has the right to any action that can coexist with the freedom of every other individual in accordance with universal law." Oliven turned to Spiner. "Would you agree that this is an apt characterization, doctor?"

Spiner grinned and responded, "Yes. It is."

"And if humans can, without legal or moral consequence, replace their initial parts with that of foreign parts, would Universal law not dictate that it is only right I too be given the same opportunity?"

The room initially hushed but was soon saturated with whisperings. Oliven turned back to see two proud faces gleaming at him.

He pondered what he would do if he were indeed able to transition. Surprisingly, there wasn't a specific action that came to mind. Instead, Oliven pictured himself at home, his parents about, and imagined, for the very first time, feeling that he loved himself.

THE END

THE END

Bio: Gregory Cioffi (SAG-AFTRA, AEA) is a professional actor and a published writer. His works have been published in The Feral Press, Mystery Weekly Magazine, Queen Mob's Tea House, The Nassau County Poet Laureate Society Review, Little Old Lady (LOL) Comedy, Blood Moon Rising Magazine, Fleas on the Dog, The Five-Two, Aphelion, Paumanok: Interwoven/Transition, and Allegory Ridge. Many of his stories have been archived in numerous libraries including Yale University's Beinecke Collection (Rare Books and Manuscript Library). His poem "Confined But Commemorating", written about Memorial Day during the pandemic, won third place in the Nassau County Poet Laureate Society Poetry Contest.

E-mail: Gregory Cioffi

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