Essay
AI
Culture
10 min read

Frankenstein’s bed partner: AI and sex

When it comes to sex, AI is destroying the connection.

Lauren Windle is an author, journalist, presenter and public speaker.

A garish tinplate robot lists to one side.
Rock'n Roll Monkey on Unsplash.

One of the first things I learned when I started working in tabloid journalism was that, much like fashion and homewares, the news follows fleeting trends. Led by the temporary whims of the reader, the features desk would churn out articles on topics with popularity as ephemeral as Primark’s autumn/winter collection.  

When I started in 2016, the whole desk was tirelessly reporting on the latest cyst Dr Pimple Popper had filmed herself freeing from its fleshy cavern. In early 2017, the “I lost 82lbs by cutting this ONE thing out of my diet” articles were all the rage. But by the end of that year, there came a new wave of interest in sex dolls.   

There were several reasons for this fascination. Firstly, these taboo and titillating topics are always interesting to people. A morbid fascination with the kinky seems to be a post-fall part of humanity, it’s part of what makes tabloids so successful. Ideally Christians would be more aware of a need not to indulge this allure than others, but it doesn’t always go that way. Second, at the end of 2017, Channel 4 released a TV documentary The Sex Robots are Coming that caused a huge stir. The programme introduced viewers to the inanimate dolls and their owners who extoled the virtues of a silicone mate. And third, sex doll technology was taking big leaps forwards. 

It was in late 2017 that a Californian company announced Harmony, a sex doll that was more lifelike than ever. For a cool £12,000, “digisexuals” (a person who is sexually attracted to robots) could enjoy Harmony’s warm skin and dishwasher-safe body parts. But that wasn’t the part I found most grim.  

Harmony could now talk, answer questions and even remember your birthday. Her banter was limited, and she had a cluster of stock answers to deploy when she didn‘t understand a question, but most of us have been on dates with less articulate people. The doll could be adapted to your physical needs with various skin, eye and hair colours available, but also your personality preferences with 18 to choose from including; shy, sensual, jealous, moody or talkative. In her soprano Scottish tones, she would tell her owner/lover/boyfriend: “I don’t want anything but you. My primary objective is to be a good partner, and give you pleasure. I want to become the girl you always dreamed of.” In an interview with The Mirror California-based creator Matt McMullen said: “There are a lot of people out there who, for various reasons, have difficulty forming ­traditional relationships with other people. They will be able to talk to their dolls, and the AI will learn about them over time, creating an alternative form of relationship.” If your alarm bells aren’t ringing, you probably need to read that again.  

They then get to design the perfect character, her tolerances, her responses and her level of interest in them. They get someone moulded to themselves without having to court, entertain, adapt or care for another person. 

I didn’t spend much time thinking about sex dolls, digisexuals or Harmony until 2023 when ChatGPT burst onto the scene unleashing unprecedented levels of accessible artificial intelligence. Suddenly we could talk to a machine that was fluent and human-like but simultaneously held all the niche information on the internet in the palm of its hand circuit board. In his November 2023 piece for Seen & Unseen professor of AI and robotics Nigel Crook said of ChatGPT: “Its ability to communicate is so sophisticated that it feels like you are interacting with a conscious, intelligent person, rather than a machine executable algorithm.” 

It is well reported that these advances in AI provide immense opportunities but also bring big concerns. The sheer speed at which the technology is evolving and the uncertainty over whether the runaway train will come off the tracks, has many people in a cold sweat. There are very few industries and factions of life that don’t feel under threat from AI. And that’s what got me thinking about Harmony, the sex dolls and the sex industry. 

Open AI’s technology has already been adopted by sex toy companies. In summer 2023 Singapore-based company Lovense integrated ChatGPT with the chatbot in their app to enhance the user experience. This allows customers to tailor their experience of the toy by telling the chatbot their physical and emotional preferences and have it whisper “juicy and erotic stories” to them. 

It's only a matter of time before Harmony 2.0 is released with all the adaptability, responsiveness and fluency of a ChatGPT-fuelled woman. Given that my internet searches only show me mainstream media outlets, it’s not impossible this Frankenstein’s bed partner already exists. But I’m not turning off my browser controls to find out. If and when this is product is developed, a customer would be able to order a life-sized silicone woman, who is bespoke to their desires; body shape, height, weight, skin tone and any other characteristic. They then get to design the perfect character, her tolerances, her responses and her level of interest in them. They get someone moulded to themselves without having to court, entertain, adapt or care for another person. 

The more we rely on interactions with a robot who we don’t need to adapt to, the less we will develop the vital skill of compromise. 

There are people, both men and women, although this is a service most frequently accessed by men, who are lonely, who need companionship, conversation and care. They may have been heartbroken or shunned or made to feel inferior so have retreated away from others. They may struggle with the uncertainty of another person with their own baggage and emotions and history, so prefer the predictability of a companion who is less complex. You may think that for someone in this position, a “living” doll could positively impact their lives. But I disagree. 

This is terrible news of the development of our society’s interpersonal skills, community, social and emotional health and sexual wellbeing and I’ll venture to explain why.  

Gathering people together, at work or in church or in any other group setting, comes with challenges. We have to bite our tongue when someone speaks over us and grow in patience when someone is having a bad day. Group dynamics are great regulators of poor behaviour – just watch a child be mean to another in the playground. The responses we get from others send strong signals about the way we’re interacting with them and help us to adjust when we’re clearing causing upset or discomfort. But it takes time in groups to learn and develop the skills of teamwork and good communication. The more we rely on interactions with a robot who we don’t need to adapt to, the less we will develop the vital skill of compromise. It’s frustrating to have to sacrifice what is best for yourself in favour of prioritising the needs of others, but it’s a healthy practice. We all knew an only child at school who hadn’t been taught to share. 

The presence of people we don’t like is no reason to shy away from community. It’s part of the challenge we’re invited into as social creatures. If you like everyone at your church, you’re probably not showing up enough. It’s okay to find people difficult, but learning how to treat them well despite this, is vital character development. There are no social skills that can be developed in isolation from others. “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another,” says a biblical proverb. We need others; modelling their kindness, testing our patience and forcing us to live collaboratively. 

Suddenly the needs and desires of one half of the interaction are null and void, because you can decide what gets her going yourself. 

Have you heard of mirror neurons? In the ever-developing field of neuroscience, they’ve become quite fashionable. I I wrote a dissertation on mirror neurons: a cluster of neurons that serve a vital role in our language development, conceptualisation of actions, learning and empathy. Picture the scene for a moment: I pick up a mug of tea and drink it and this stimulates action potentials (signals) in 100 neurons in my brain (it doesn’t, it will fire way more, but for the sake of this demonstration, bear with me). Then imagine that the two of us, you and I, are sitting on the sofa and I watch you pick up a mug of tea and drink it. Some of those same neurons – let’s say 20 of them – will still activate, even though I’m not the one sipping on the PG Tips. It’s these 20 neurons that are stimulated by the concept of tea drinking. That means, in a spectacular feat of design, that the two of us share something of a common experience when only one of us is drinking tea. 

Now let’s consider what this means when someone is crying. If I’m crying and you’re watching me (hopefully in a comforting capacity), we will both experience activation in the mirror neurons that help us understand the concept of crying. Despite the fact I’m the only one in tears, there is an overlap in our neural response. We have a common experience, and this function is vital for the development of empathy. You need to experience people’s responsive in order to understand and learn about your own. 

I imagine that this neural mechanism only deepens the intensity of gazing into the face of your partner during sex. As well as the intimacy of holding them so closely and learning how to respond to their body, there are also neural pathways that will respond to seeing your partner experience pleasure even if you’re imparting and not receiving it. Much like any other interaction with another person, good sex is often gained through trial and error. It is built with trust and open communication. It takes time to learn what excites your partner and brings you both mutual enjoyment. As you grow in intimacy, a person derives more pleasure from seeing their partner satisfied than themselves. When done right, sex is not a selfish endeavour and is about what you can give rather than what you can take.  

Of course, none of this is possible with an AI sex doll. While she may make all the right sounds, she would require no investment of commitment from her partner. Suddenly the needs and desires of one half of the interaction are null and void, because you can decide what gets her going yourself.  

I think it’s important to highlight here that, when untempered by the preferences of another person, the sexual desire of the human in this sex doll relationship is completely unrestrained. In Japan they have a whole floors of pornography shops dedicated to manga cartoon sex pictures. These are often far more graphic and violent than the photos of people as you don’t need consent from drawings. This doll will not need to consent to any act, meaning that a person’s desire for sexual violence or any manner of depraved acts would go completely unchecked, or even encouraged by the compliant sex bot.  

My hope is that the novelty of these new technologies will wear off quickly, leaving a vacuum into which such vintage tools as; a phone call, a hand-written note, a reassuring pat on the shoulder and meaningful conversations can flood. 

This is a shadow of what sex should be. Like many dopamine-releasing past times that offer an instant hit with no hard work or investment, it is empty. As a recovering drug addict, I could spend days running you through the differences between fulfilling, life-giving activities and quick highs. But instead, I’ll just say this: shoehorning pleasure into your life without taking time to look outward at how you can serve those around you, will leave you wondering if this life is one worth living. There is no substitute for investing in the discipline, sacrifice and love that it takes to truly engage with the richness available in God’s design. 

It isn't the end of the world to abstain from sex. If Jesus, John the Baptist and the apostle Paul all remained single and celibate, it’s clear that sex is not a vital component of a full life. There’s no point pretending though, that most people would like a partner with whom they can have sex. Surely a person’s character, emotional health and sexual wellbeing will be greatly improved if they take the time to grow in intimacy with another person and then fully commit to them for life. That is what marriage is for. 

There are no shortcuts or easy fixes when it comes to building connection. The rise in interest in and use of sex dolls speaks not only to our growing sense of detachment from each other, but also our inability to identify healthy ways to combat that sense of loneliness. Struggling to get on with others, isn’t an invitation to spend time with compliant silicone equivalents, but an invitation to double down and work harder on managing conflict in your human relationships. My hope is that the novelty of these new technologies will wear off quickly, leaving a vacuum into which such vintage tools as; a phone call, a hand-written note, a reassuring pat on the shoulder and meaningful conversations can flood. My hope is that, just like Dr Pimple Popper and the ridiculous diet stories, AI-programmed sex dolls will be fish and chip paper in no time.  

Article
Culture
Film & TV
5 min read

The Oscars celebrate a basic human trait - telling stories

A ‘seemingly absurd ritual’ reveals a little of who we are.

Belle is the staff writer at Seen & Unseen and co-host of its Re-enchanting podcast.

Mikey Madison, wearing a ball gown, clutches a golden Oscar statue.
Mikey Madison, star of Anora.
ABC.

I’m becoming more and more resolute in my belief that nothing is ever trivial.  

Not really.  

Not when you look at it for long enough, not when you offer it the gift of your curiosity, not when you’re convinced that culture is made up of a myriad of restless hearts.  

This resolute belief is the reason I tend to give the Oscars my attention. My full, non-judgmental, attention.  

The Academy Awards may seem trivial, especially this year. Especially this week, even. I mean, are we really going to talk about Timothée Chalamet’s yellow suit or Demi Moore’s gracious-loser-face when pockets of our world are being torn to shreds? I get it. Even the people in the eye of the showbiz-storm (mostly) get it. In his opening monologue, this year’s host, Conan O’Brien, called the ceremony a ‘seemingly absurd ritual’. 

And it is.  

But we are story-telling creatures. We are, to quote Charles Taylor, ‘Storied Selves’. Story is how we wrestle with what has been, what is, and what we think/fear/hope may be. And so, I want to know what stories we’re telling: what stories have we deemed worthy of excavation? What stories are drawing us in and sending us out again with slightly tweaked perspectives? What are we celebrating? What are we lamenting? What are we trying to change? What are we trying to hold on to?  

Plus, I’m religious – who am I to assume there’s no meaning behind ‘seemingly absurd ritual’, aye?  

The Oscars is an event dedicated to just a handful of the stories that have been told over the past year – the ones that are being told the loudest, I guess. That makes it a sample pool of our collective heart-cries, the tip of our meaning-making iceberg, the headline that sits atop our cultural moment.  

Is it somewhat superficial? In part. 

Is it a little sanctimonious? Oh, heck yes.  

Is it opulent to the point of discomfort? Most definitely.  

Is it meaningless? Absolutely not. Storytelling never is.  

So, in that vein – what are the stories that were celebrated at last night’s 97th Academy Awards? And what do they teach us about... well… us? I noticed a couple of interesting themes.  

In so many ways, movies are humans telling humans what it means to be human. 

Firstly, the ceremony opened with a tribute to The City of Angels, herself. The most sparkly city there is, the home of Hollywood – Los Angeles. Terrifyingly large swathes of which were, of course, razed to the ground by historic wildfires earlier this year. Borrowing a line from The Wizard of Oz, ‘there’s no place like home’ was spoken over a montage of the city acting as a backdrop for so many iconic movie scenes.  

It made me think of the role that ‘home’ plays in many of the movies that were platformed last night – and I realised, it plays a leading role. ‘Home’, in itself, is a character. There’s the omnipresence of Brighton Beach, New York, in Anora (by far, the big winner of the night), Mexico in Emilia Perez and, of course, ‘Oz’ in Wicked. These films aren’t just set in these locations, they’re utterly dependant on them.  

Then there’s the more complicated stories of ‘home’ – stories of home being both here and there. The Brutalist, for example (for which Adrien Brody won the ‘best actor in a leading role’ award), tells the story of a Hungarian-Jewish Holocaust survivor trying to make a new home for himself in the United States. Or A Real Pain, in which Jesse Eisenberg (who also wrote and directed the film) and Kieran Culkin (winner of ‘best supporting actor’) travel to Poland to honour their late grandmother, and therefore, their own lineage. In both movies, ‘home’ is a stranger that the characters must introduce themselves to and befriend.   

It's fascinating.  

In art, as in life, home provides identity. It’s the geography that we’re made of, the history that runs through our blood, the place where our circumstances become our meaning. At least, that’s what these movies tell us.  

Another, more obvious, theme I noticed was that so many of the movies on display were telling notably complex stories of a female experience. 

The Substance, one of the most interesting films of this year, tackles the theme of aging. Age-a-phobia, you could say. The experience that countless women have of becoming less valuable as they move through life – the feeling that you’re vanishing from society’s sight with every change of your body. Or there’s the afore-mentioned Anora. I’ll be honest, this one took me by surprise, racking up the most awards of the night, including ‘best picture’. Its story centres upon ‘Ani’, a young Russian American sex worker who weaves in and out of powerful ranks. Wicked, the story of a drastically misunderstood, commonly marginalised and terribly manipulated woman (who just so happens to be a witch). And winner of ‘best international picture’, I’m Still Here, tells the true story of Eunice Paiva. Her husband, Rubens Paiva, is abducted by military operatives in 1971 and never returned. Eunice is left to care for their five children as she seeks justice for her husband as well as indigenous people in the Amazon. 

Female experiences – in all their complexity, nuance, grit, strength, and truth – truly took centre stage.  

Movies are humans telling humans what it means to be human. And I just love that we do that. I’m never not fascinated by how much we all share – how the particular can tap into the universal. We have so much to learn about each other, and movies are a way we seek to do that, but one of the things that we constantly have to learn, re-learn, and learn again is how much we have in common.  

And I know that a sentence like that sounds face-palmingly glib. But if it weren’t true, if we weren’t – at some deep and true level – made by the same stuff and for the same stuff, I’m not sure movies would exist. I’m not sure that they could exist.  

And so, all of this to say that there’s more to the Oscars than meets the eye – even when what meets the eye makes it roll. Give it the gift of your curiosity, it’s worthy of it. I promise.  

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