Making a Thinking Robot

Yesterday, as I was playing 3-D tic-tac-toe on my personal computer, my roommate described to me the computer’s strategy: “He tries to get three corners on the top or bottom level. If he does that he guarantees a win.” Undoubtedly, my roommate intended his description to be metaphorical, a sort of computational anthropomorphism. Few people would seriously entertain the possibility that my PC has the capacity to maintain beliefs or desires. Most people intuitively feel that the computer cannot truly want to win the tic-tac-toe game in the same way that its human opponent wants to win. Nor can the computer believe that a certain strategy will guarantee a win. However, intuition is not always a trustworthy guide. Even the outward appearance of a computer can strongly affect our judgement about its internal functioning. Take away the computer’s metal casing and sharp edges. Enclose it in a soft exterior and give it a coat of fur and an adorable, expressive face. Then try to dismantle it. The task may prove difficult if the fuzzy computer shrieks when you cut its skin, if it scuttles away on motorized wheels, if it bleeds simulated blood. Much of the popular culture fear of “thinking computers” undoubtedly stems from a distaste for the computer’s unfriendly exterior, rather than from a firm understanding of why computers can or cannot think.