Stop tickling Elmo

I’m not a big fan of robots.

I can tolerate R2D2, but that’s about it. Other robots and droids disturb me. R2D2 isn’t made to look human. He’s just a trash can with lights. It’s cute.

So, no, I never saw I, Robot. I don’t really know what happens in Attack of the Clones. And I only saw WALL-E because it was free at the Indiana Memorial Union.

But do you remember A.I. Artificial Intelligence? Oddly enough, I do. Haley Joel Osment plays a little android, who, similar to Pinocchio, wants to be a real boy. The movie isn’t bad (I don’t dislike all sci-fi), but Haley’s walking, talking, robotic bear throws me for a loop. His name is Teddy, and I can’t tell whether I like him or not.

Today, Sept. 9, is Teddy Bear Day. And I, for one, would much rather have an actual stuffed teddy bear than some teched-out imposter.

In theory, the idea of a toy animal coming to life is great. It’s what we were all aiming for as kids when we made our bears, Barbies and Power Rangers talk. But when I watch Teddy, it’s just eerie. After all, he’s not really supposed to be “alive.”

It’s the same with Tickle-Me-Elmo. He’s so adorable one minute, yet so akin to a thing possessed the next. A Furby, however, is always just plain creepy.

On this special day, we should remember that stuffed animals don’t need to be technologically advanced to be good. The judging is really quite simple: Bears won at the carnie ring-toss are crappy, and bears newly-bought from the store are happy.

For me, it’s all about coat-quality and stuffing-content. My childhood teddies had cotton in their bellies, not computers.

Let’s be honest: Tickle-Me-Elmo is not cuddly. He’s got a plastic rectangle for a torso. He’s not even that tickle-able. On the 2006 version, you just poke a button, and all of a sudden he’s “rolling” on the ground in hysteria. Not very realistic.

The art of the tickle cannot be learned through programmed puppets. Aren’t kids supposed to practice tickling on their weaker siblings?

Sigh. On this Teddy Bear Day, I hate to think of all our old, plushy friends suffocating in storage. But that’s just the way it goes. College life doesn’t exactly have use for stuffed animal shrines.

Though we may not be in the market for bears, are the children? Will they be playing with Winnie-the-Pooh today, or their $100 robotic dinosaur? At least Roboraptor (yes, this name is real) isn’t trying to hide his true, plastic form under a cheap fur coat.

I can respect that, but it’s got a nice loophole, what with being a dinosaur and all. I’d like to say, “It’s just a marching Dino, no big deal,” and relate it to a simple remote-control car, but I can’t. Roboraptor’s jaws are designed to play “pulling games,” and he comes with three special “moods.” It’s superfluous, really.

For the low cost of free, can’t a kid imagine these things? Then again, $100 is nothing compared to the $6,251 price tag on the robotic baby harp seal, Paro.

He can lift his head, blink his eyes, move his flippers, and even make seal-like noises. But don’t actual seals do all of those things? I wonder if $200 could get me a baby seal off the black market.

What really sets this bot apart is its recognition as the “World’s Most Therapeutic Robot.”  Being able to pet and talk with Paro acts as a form of animal therapy for patients in extended care facilities.  Last year, the Food and Drug Administration certified Paro as a Class II medical device.

I understand that Paro can be a soothing companion for elderly patients, but I still have doubts about using robots as substitutes for the real animal therapy programs. As of March, only 40 Paros were being used in U.S. nursing homes anyway.

It seems to me that Paro is nothing more than an elaborately expensive version of a Tickle-Me toy. If it actually wants to be viewed as an equivalent alternative to animal therapy, Paro needs to be more affordable.    

On this Teddy Bear Day, let’s allow ourselves to be nostalgic, instead of future-focused. The not-so-cuddly robots aren’t really offering anything that a child can’t already get from their imagination, or that a senior can’t already obtain from a real service animal. I say we support simplicity and remember that merely hugging a stuffed bear can be enough.


E-mail: paihenry@indiana.edu