Cover of Tik-Tok of Oz by L. Frank Baum, 1914, illustrated by John R. Neill (1877–1943).

1907

TIK-TOK

When we study artificial intelligence, “we are immediately confronted with the most fundamental inquiries into the nature of life, death, sex, work, and the mechanisms of the mind,” write authors Paul Abrahm and Stuart Kenter, “. . . a large order requiring exhausting pilgrimages into literature, philosophy, and an impressive array of scientific and technical realms.” One of the earliest thinking machines in literature to raise questions regarding the fine line between machines and people is Tik-Tok, an intelligent copper robot introduced in the 1907 novel Ozma of Oz by American author L. Frank Baum (1856–1919). To power the clockwork robot, someone must periodically wind up his three clockwork springs that separately energize his thoughts, actions, or speaking. For example, it is possible to energize his thoughts but not his actions or speech, creating an isolated “AI in a Box.” Or his speech may be energized, but not his thoughts, allowing him to create crude vocal output but not having adequate natural language-processing facilities. Even when fully activated, his language-processing modules are not entirely natural, as evidenced by his monotonous-sounding voice and strict literal interpretation of many questions and commands. According to Baum, Tik-Tok “does everything but live” and feels no emotions. When punished with whips, Tik-Tok is not harmed, as the whipping merely kept his copper body “well polished.”

Tik-Tok realizes his place in the universe. For example, when thanked for his kindness, he replies “I am only a machine. I cannot be kind any more than I can be sorry or glad.” Even though the novel appears to be targeted to a youthful readership, Baum makes us wonder about the future of AI. Is emotion the main differentiator between humans and ma-chines? To what degree do literature and movies shape AI designs and the limitations we may place on thinking machines?

“Cyborgs, robots and other mechanical beings are key figures for understanding the technophilic and technophobic dreams of a century,” writes Professor Alex Goody, “embodying fears about technological encroachment, suggesting to some the chance for technological transcendence, and challenging the idea of the individual, differentiated, human subject.”