Androids are robots designed to look human. I developed an interest in them while studying technology in an upper-level Japanese language course at Wellesley where we watched videos of androids that served as receptionists and held basic conversations. These machines that had once only existed in the realm of science fiction are now a reality. Naturally, while studying abroad in Japan, I leapt at the chance to see multiple androids up close at the National Museum of Emerging Science and Innovation Japan (Miraikan) in Odaiba, an island near Tokyo.

A long, steep escalator led to the exit of the train station (Tokyo Teleport Station) where the island of Odaiba came into view. I spotted a giant Ferris wheel off in the distance. Much closer stood a large, rectangular building that was more than seven stories high. Beside the building was a giant Gundam statue from the anime Mobile Suit Gundam that was nearly as tall as the building itself.  I couldn’t help but notice how futuristic everything seemed.

Further down the road sat Miraikan, a large building with floor-to-ceiling windows along all sides and a giant chrome globe protruding from the front. Scattered around the museum were several pools, and through the water, you could clearly see the illuminated granite surface.  

Inside, passing several interactive exhibits about robots, climate change, and infectious disease, I spotted a group gathering excitedly around a demonstration that seemed about to begin.

This exhibition area looked like a minimalist living room. There were two white couches facing one another. On one of the sofas sat Otonaroid, a young female android. Otonaroid was designed to look like the average Japanese woman. She had long black hair and was dressed in black slacks and a white vest. As an employee of the museum, she also had a badge with her name on it pinned to her chest. Her entire body was coated in a beige material similar to skin, and even her eyes glanced around in a humanoid fashion. As I watched, she came to life. “Who here thinks I am human?” she asked. Her voice sounded realistic, except for a faint hum that betrayed its mechanical origin. Her question was followed by peals of laughter from the audience at its absurdity – especially as a few children raised their hands, so confused were they by the realistic android before them. “Who here thinks I can move my arms and legs?” continued Otonaroid. She went on to explain that she could not move her legs; she was designed to facilitate communication between humans, so she didn’t need to walk. A moment later, a museum employee exited a booth next to the exhibit to explain that Otonaroid could not talk independently either. Instead, humans use a microphone in the connected sound booth to speak through her. In fact, depending on who was voicing her, she could either sound male or female. Later I discovered that her creator, Hiroshi Ishiguro, has said that he believes that his androids are the future of telecommunications.

After the presentation, I wandered along until I found another exhibit. This one was tucked inside a large room that sat toward the end of the hall. I stepped inside and found myself in a dark room divided in half by a wall. In the middle of this wall was an opening that ran its length, just below eye-level. I crouched down to look inside. The second half of the room was painted white. On a stool in the center sat Kodomoroid, a young girl android with short black hair, wearing a white dress. Kodomoroid had one simple task: reading the news. She sat in that room all day and read the news online; the intention was to force the adults listening to think about the state of the world by viewing it through the eyes of a child. She spoke in a sing-song voice that mimicked that of human children; in fact, if you squinted at her or closed your eyes altogether, it would have proved difficult to distinguish Kodomoroid from a real child. I left the room deeply disturbed. In fact, I left the entire Miraikan pondering philosophical questions that would have seemed ludicrous before my visit, but, now that I had seen the pinnacle of android technology, seemed all too real.

Did these androids have feelings? Of course, the people who created them would say that they didn’t, but what if they did? In that case, should androids also have rights? It would be illegal to force a “real” girl to sit alone in a dark room day in and day out, reading world news, isolated from the outside world. It was ok – or maybe it wasn’t. What if “she” had feelings that humans simply dismissed?  I thought back to the Japanese children who were too young to understand that Otonaroid wasn’t like us, she wasn’t human. I thought about Kodomoroid, who seemed more humanoid than android. Of course androids don’t have feelings. But what if someday they could?