“We have all heard the stories about robots destroyed in this useless effort, or to indulge that pointless impulse. The stories are told, not as if they were disasters, but as if they werefunny, as if a robot melted down to scrap or smashed to bits in pursuit of no useful purpose were a joke, instead of a scandalous waste.

“Scarcely less serious are the endless abuses of robots. I have seen robots pressed into service as structural supports, simply ordered to stand there and hold a wall up-not for a minute, not as an emergency remedy while repairs are made-but as a permanent solution. I have seen robots-functional, capable robots-told to stand underwater and hold the anchorline of a sailboat. I know a woman who has one robot whose sole duty is to brush her teeth for her, and hold the brush in between times. A man with a broken water pipe in his basement set a robot to bailing the place out-full-time, nonstop, day in, day out, for six months-before the man finally bothered to have repairs made.

“Think about it. Consider it.Sentient beings used as substitutes for anchors, for toothbrushes, for pipe welds. Does that make sense? Does it seem rational that we create robots with minds capable of calculating hyperspace jumps, and then set them to work as deadweights to keep pleasure boats from floating away?

“These are merely the most glaring examples of robot abuse. I have not even touched on the endless tasks we all allow our robots to do for us, things that we should do for ourselves. But these things, too, are robot abuse, and they are demeaning to ourselves as much as to our mechanical servants.

“I recall a morning, not so long ago, when I stood in front of my closet for twenty minutes, waiting for my robot to dress me. When I finally remembered that I had ordered the robot out on an errand, Istill did not dress myself, but waited for the robot to return. It never dawned on me that I might select my own clothes, put them on my own body, close the fasteners myself. Ithad to be donefor me.

“I submit to you that such absurdities as that do more than waste the abilities of robots. They hurtus, do damage to humans. Such behavior teaches us to think that labor-alllabor,any labor-is beneath us, that the only respectable, socially acceptable thing to do is sit still and allow our robot-slaves to care for us.

“Yes, I said slaves. I asked a question at the beginning of this talk. I asked ‘What are robots for?’ Well, ladies and gentlemen,that is the answer that our society has come up with.That is what we use them as. Slaves.Slaves. Look into the history books, look into all the ancient texts of times gone by and all the cultures of the past. Slavery hasalways corrupted the societies in which it has existed, grinding down the slaves, degrading them, humiliating them-but likewiseit has always corrupted the slave masters as well, poisoned them, weakened them. Slavery is a trap, one that always catches the society that condones it.

“That is what is happening to us.”Fredda paused for a moment and looked around the auditorium. There was silence, dead silence.

“Let me go back to that day when I waited for my robot-slave to dress me. Thinking about it after the fact, seeing just how ridiculous that moment had been, I resolved to manage for myself the next time.

“And I found that I could not! I did not know how. I did not know where my clothes were. I did not know how the fasteners worked or how the clothes went on. I walked around half a day with a blouse on backwards before realizing my mistake. I was astonished by my ignorance on the subject of caring for myself.

“I started watching myself go through my day, noticing how little I did for myself-how little I wascapable of doing.”

Alvar Kresh, watching the recording, began to understand. This was why she no longer kept a personal robot. A strange decision, yes, but it was beginning to make some sort of sense. He watched the recording with rapt attention, all thought of his own exhaustion quite forgotten.

“I was astonished just how incompetent I was,” Fredda Leving, s voice said. “I was amazed how many little tasks I could not perform. I cannot begin to describe the humiliation I felt when I realized that I could not find my way around my own city by myself. I needed a robot to guide me, or I would get hopelessly lost.”

There was a nervous titter or two in the audience, and Fredda nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, itis funny. But it is also very sad. Let me ask you out there who think I am being absurd-suppose all the robots simply stopped right now. Let us ignore the obvious fact that our entire civilization would collapse, because the robots are the ones who run it. Let’s keep it tight, and personal. Think what would happen to you ifyour robots shut down. What if your driver ceased to function, your personal attendant ground to a halt, your cook mindlocked and could not prepare meals, your valet lost power right now?

“How many of you could find your way home? Very few of you can fly your own cars, I know that-but could you evenwalk home? Which way is home from here? And if and when you got home, would you remember how to use the manual controls to open the door? How many of you even know your own address?”

Again, silence, at least at first. But then there was a shout from the audience. The camera cut away to show a man standing in front of his seat, a man dressed in one of the more comic-opera variants of the Ironhead uniform. “So what?” he yelled. “I don’t know my address. Big deal! All I need to know is,I’m the human being! I’m the one on top! I got a good life thanks to robots. I don’t want it messed up!”

There was a ragged flurry of cheers and applause, mostly from the back of the house. The view cut back to Fredda as she stepped out from behind her lectern and joined in the applause herself, clapping slowly, loudly, ironically, still going long after everyone else had quit. “Congratulations,” she said. “Youare the human being. I am sure you are proud of that, and you should be. But if Simcor Beddle sent you here to disrupt my speech, you go back and tell the leader of the Ironheads that you helped me make my point. What troubles me is that it almost sounds as if you are proud of your ignorance. That strikes me as terribly dangerous, and terribly sad.

“So tell me this. You don’t know where you live. You don’t do much of anything. You don’t knowhow to do anything. So:What in the Nine Circles of Hell are you good for?” She looked up from the man to the entire audience. “What are wegood for? What do we do?What are humans for?

“Look around you. Consider your society. Look at the place of humans in it. We are drones, little else. There is scarcely an aspect of our lives that has not been entrusted to the care of the robots. In entrusting our tasks to them, we surrender our fate to them.

“So what are humans for?That is the question, the real question it all comes down to in the end. And I would submit that our current use of robots has given us a terrifying answer, one that will doom us if we do not act.

“Because right here, right now, we must face the truth, my friends. And the true answer to that question is: not much.”

Fredda took a deep breath, collected her notes, and stepped back from the podium. “Forgive me if I end this lecture on that grim note, but I think it is something we all need to face. In this lecture I have stated the problem I wished to address. In my next lecture, I will offer up my thoughts on the Three Laws of Robotics, and on a solution to the problems we face. I believe I am safe in saying it should be of interest to you all.”

And with that, the recording faded away, and Alvar Kresh was left alone with his own thoughts. She couldn’t be right. She couldn’t.