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What is it like to be a robot for a day? Weird and wonderful

After steering a telepresence robot around a conference thousands of kilometres from his desk, Paul Marks delivers his verdict on life as a machine
Telepresence robot
Present, remotely
Carman Neustaedter

Here’s an odd thing: I’m a bit of a hit in Denver, Colorado, a city I have never visited. People want to take selfies with me and follow me around.

But my newfound popularity is an illusion. It’s not me they are interested in, but the pretty amazing telepresence robot I am steering around the annual . I do this from my desk in London.

Called a Beam, the robot lets me trundle, R2D2-like, around the Colorado Convention Center. I can attend talks, interview experts and hang out in the coffee bar. So far, so normal. But in other ways the experience is anything but normal.

The Beam is made by Suitable Technologies of Palo Alto, California. It’s simple but effective: picture an iPad on sticks on top of a vacuum cleaner, with a Skype-like display at roughly head height.

Until now, Beams have been mainly used by big corporations such as Microsoft and Google so head honchos can “attend” distant meetings. But conference organisers are now getting in on the act and offering swarms of the devices for remote delegates.

Travel ban

US president Donald Trump’s attempt to ban people in six mainly Muslim nations from travelling to the US has provided added impetus. Those deterred from attending the conference in Denver were encouraged to materialise via robot instead, as were some journalists.

After agreeing to the terms and conditions, including not letting the 45-kilogram device fall down stairs or ram anyone holding hot drinks, I press a “beam in” button on a Windows app and find myself viewing the world via a camera above the robot’s screen. I’m facing a white wall. It’s very odd, like waking up somewhere unfamiliar. Beside me a rank of similar machines wait to be activated.

Next, I ease my droid off its charging plinth and trundle off to register as a virtual attendee. But the minute I leave the registration desk I am asked for a selfie by a curious delegate. Less than a minute later, while trying to get to grips with steering during a bout of Wi-Fi drop out, a venue official asks to photograph me for the company’s Facebook page.

This soon becomes the pattern: as I roll along to talks, I am stopped for photo after photo (or video), even while I’m chatting to experts about research papers. When I meet another robot and we stop for a chat, this proves even more of a draw: “Look, the robots are talking!” We, the telepresent, are the object of much curiosity. It’s well-intentioned, but a bit overwhelming.

Being objectified is very common, says Carman Neustaedter of Simon Fraser University in British Columbia, Canada. Neustaedter was in Denver to on how Beam users fared at last year’s conference.

Defaced machines

“Everyone wants to take a picture with me, and everyone talks to me. It’s very strange,” one delegate told him last year. Objectification led to some Beams being “bullied” – prevented from moving – many times a day, or defaced by attendees who found it hilarious.

People don’t yet understand what the remote experience is like – the robot feels “almost like an extension of their body”, says Neustaedter. My robot quickly felt part of me, to the extent that I felt uncomfortable at the invasion of my personal space when selfie takers put an arm around “me”.

But you have to get used to being manhandled: your Wi-Fi signal fails in doorways and elevators, so you rely on strangers to get your droid moving again.

That said, the experience of attending a conference 7500 kilometres away from my desk was mind blowing: I met some fascinating people, found stories I have yet to tell and made great contacts – all without burning tonnes of jet fuel. Once this tech goes mainstream, many businesses will find it an important low-carbon tool.

But that day will come sooner if people can learn to stop bothering telepresent robots. Just before I dock my Beam for the last time, two women ask if they can take a photo of me talking to another user, and the pair of us oblige. When I rotate my droid to see if they have finished, they have already gone, without so much as a thank you. And why not? After all, we’re only machines.

Article amended on 19 May 2017

The location of Suitable Technologies has been corrected

Topics: Robots