Book Report #220 Machines Like Me

Machines Like Me by Ian McEwan

I borrowed this from the library almost out of a sense of duty. We're supposed to read books by McEwan, aren't we? And even if I didn't particularly enjoy Atonement, that was probably due to my personal shortcomings, especially my most glaring error of not being British. Atonement won all the awards, so case closed, and maybe I should try again with another one of McEwan's books in order to redeem myself. (I have a similar issue going on with Murakami, but that's a story for another day.)

I'm really glad I gave his stuff another go because Machines Like Me is an instant classic, and I'm going to go so far as to call it genius.

I would never have the gall to write technological advances that I reserve for the future into the past, but thankfully McEwan isn't bound in the same way. Machines Like Me takes place in the 20th century when technological advances are one hundred years past where we are in present day, while Margaret Thatcher is Prime Minister, and throws in that Alan Turing never died.

And! It centers around thirty-year old wash-up Charlie Friend's relationship with his very human robot, Adam.

We see Adam arrive in his box, and animate slowly over many hours. His pulse registers, his eyes open, and he begins to master blinking. Eventually his consciousness kicks in and he realizes his nakedness. Sensibly, he asks for some clothes.

The writing is on the wall. Adam will sow the seeds of destruction, just like his Biblical namesake. But how will this happen? Adam's programmers are the first mover. When Adam is released into society, they do not have control over each scenario he will encounter. Adam will respond based on his experiences and what he has learned. This will grow increasingly complicated and difficult to predict.

As the political climate of England is thrown into greater and greater chaos, and Charlie's relationship with his neighbor spins out into a web of love and confusion, Adam is growing up, learning, and living a rich inner life. He loves Shakespeare, and writes endless haikus. He is enthused about current events, history, and literature to a point of annoyance for Charlie.

He experiences love and sex. Yet the other robots like him aren't thriving in the same way. Some experience the world through sadness and despair. So what will happen to them all? And what kind of choices will they make to be autonomous in their own lives?

As Turing eventually asks, at what point can they actually be considered conscious and even sentient?

General consensus: An intellectual read that's smart and tight, and poses many important questions that we cannot yet answer. In short: brilliant.