PLANTING THE SEEDS OF CHANGE
The Three Laws of Robotics are:
A robot must not harm a human, nor, by inaction, allow a human to be harmed.
A robot must obey a human, unless the goes against the First Law.
A robot must protect itself and its own existence, unless this goes against the First or Second Law1.
WALL-E was well aware of these Three Laws – indeed, it seemed that all robots had been programmed with them, long ago, by humans themselves. But Laws 1 and 2 were, for all practical purposes, irrelevant now that there were no humans left on Earth. If what WALL-E had retrieved from his Central Processing Unit was correct, then all of humanity had left Earth many years ago, travelling into space aboard huge spaceships such as The Axiom, where their every need was catered for by their robot companions.
But they had left the Earth itself practically lifeless. Yet organic life, once started, is incredibly tenacious. WALL-E had befriended what seemed to be the last living creature on the Earth, a friendly cockroach, who had become something akin to a pet. He kept him for the little companionship that he was able to provide, on this desolate and abandoned planet.
WALL-E himself had a simple and straightforward enough Directive to follow, here on Earth – collect and stack the objects left behind by humanity. And he had been doing this for centuries. Now those objects – remnants and remains of both humanity's creativity and irresponsibility – were piled into huge towers, blocks stacked on top of each other, huge skyscrapers pointing towards the sky, the stars, and space - where, even now, humanity might still be dwelling.
Although the Earth was now practically lifeless, there were still dangers on the abandoned planet. Storms of dust raged, and so WALL-E had to take shelter within his dwelling place, an abandoned truck, which he had now made into his home. It was within this home that he had kept the objects that had amused and fascinated him, a strange collection of trinkets which gave him tantalising insights into how humans might have lived on this planet, centuries before.
He could not remember exactly when he had started to be fascinating by the objects left behind by humanity. If he consulted his Central Processing Unit to try to find out, it seemed that this had been not long after he had developed a sense of 'I', a sense of himself as himself, as a thinking, feeling agent, complete with curiosity about the world around him, including the objects that he was required to stack, and the humans who had made those objects, before they had gone to live in space.
Now WALL-Es dwelling contained many of the objects that had so fascinated him, throughout the centuries of his existence. He particularly liked geometric shapes, such as cubes. Indeed, it seemed as if humans also liked these shapes, as they had incorporated them into many of the objects that they had made – including, of course, WALL-E himself.
But there were other objects, too, including a particularly fascinating recording of humans and their habits, which included singing and dancing – a tantalising glimpse into his creators' wants and desires.
Which brought him back to the robots that humans had invented. The Three Laws were understandable – robots could be strong, tough, and resilient, so it made sense that humanity would put in place certain measures to ensure that they did not usurp the position of their creators.
But, for WALL-E, here and now, on this desolate and abandoned world, only the Third Law was really relevant – that he needed to protect himself and do what was necessary to ensure his continued existence. That meant harvesting parts from the other WALL-E units – long inanimate robots that had once been his peers, but now were little more than useless metal.
Had they ever developed sentience? WALL-E was unsure, but he doubted that they had. They had been designed for the simple and straightforward task of stacking humanity's abandoned objects on top of one another – sentience was irrelevant to such a task. And, if he consulted his Central Processing Unit, and, assuming that his files on this issue had not been corrupted over time, he could not find information that indicated that they had ever displayed the spark of consciousness and intelligence that made a robot more than just that – just programmes, instructions, and directives, encased in a metal outer layer.
But, either way, they were all long inactive now. And WALL-E was required, as all robots were, to maintain his own existence (provided this did not harm a human, nor go against a human's instructions). That meant, logically, that he was required to harvest the parts of the long inactive other WALL-E units, in order that he was able to obey the Third Law.
If his memory banks were correct, assuming once more that his files had not been corrupted over the long years of his existence, then humanity had a much less…logical approach to the utilisation of spare parts. Humans apparently found the idea of using pieces of their dead abhorrent, even if, logically, it made sense to use parts of those no longer active, to help those that were still alive.
But, as WALL-E watched the humans on the recording, as he saw them singing and dancing, he realised that they were more than just simply logical, rational beings. They had emotions, and the ability to feel affection and love for one another. WALL-E understood these concepts – he felt something akin to this for his pet cockroach – but humans seemed to have a much more complex system of expressing these feelings. They were fascinating, and, one day, WALL-E decided that he would find out more about them, to learn more about where they had gone, and what they were doing, now that they inhabited the vast realms of space.
But that would have to wait until later. For the moment, he contented himself with watching his recordings, checking on the fascinating objects that he had collected and stored, and ensuring that his pet cockroach had everything that it required. Then, he made his way outside, and allowed the sun to recharge his processors – humanity had sensibly ensured that he was solar-powered – and the sun was, for all practical purposes, an eternal power source. But, considering eternity for a moment, it sometimes seemed to WALL-E that it might take him an eternity to fulfil his Directive.
He stacked objects, one on top of the other, as he had done, so many times before. He kept a few objects to take back to his home – he particularly liked those with hinges, such as a small box which could be opened and closed. But that was not the most fascinating object that he found, on that fateful day, when the nature of his existence started to change forever.
He found an object that was as wonderous as it was rare – a plant. A green, growing plant, in soil. He stared at it in wonder for a long moment. But, no, this was not an imitation, a plastic replica. This was no creation of humanity. If this had been made, then it's creator had been a genius, one will skills and abilities that far surpassed those of humanity. And it was alive. Not in the way that he was alive, but in a manner similar to his pet cockroach, who was even now waiting patiently for him back at their home.
Almost reverently, he picked up the plant, careful to ensure that it had plenty of soil for its roots. He placed it inside an old boot – it would do as a plant pot. The plant, he recalled from his Central Processing Unit, required nutrients, some of which it could obtain from the soil, others from sunlight. It was small, but it seemed to nevertheless be perfectly healthy, despite existing on this mostly dead and desolate world.
After WALL-E had completed his daily Directive, he consulted information from his Central Processing Unit concerning the plant again. Yes, no human could have possibly created it – he had checked, just to make sure that that information was correct. Humanity tended to like geometric shapes – cubes, spheres, squares, rectangles and the like…but the plant had nothing so ordered, nothing so mathematical. No, it was natural, organic, and alive – WALL-E double checked his files on that, too, just to make sure. Yes, all of the files checked, and the plant was everything that such an organism should be. That meant that it was ephemeral – in danger of dying, of being lost forever, unless WALL-E did everything that he was able to do in order to ensure its survival.
And he vowed, at that moment, to do whatever it would take, whatever was required, in order to ensure that the plant was kept safe and out of harm's way.
And WALL-E was as good as his vow – better, if possible, for the plant had set in motion a sequence of events that WALL-E could not have possibly predicted. First, there had been EVE – sleek, smart, a robot far more advanced than himself, with the Directive of finding plant life on Earth – in practice, finding WALL-E's precious plant.
But he had not realised, at the time, that it had been the plant which had caused her to shut down all functions. He had cared for her, but she had remained unresponsive, as though her Central Processing Unit had been corrupted beyond repair.
But her Central Processing Unit had merely gone temporarily offline, and, as the spaceship the Axiom returned to Earth, WALL-E had realised that it had come for her – to collect the organic life that she had safely stored within her body.
WALL-E had followed her onto the ship, and, although she had initially been irked by his presence onboard the ship, in time, she had become as fond of WALL-E as he was of her.
They had danced in space – they had fallen in love. WALL-E had not known, exactly, what that concept had meant until that moment. But now he understood, knew that it meant a level of devotion that went beyond even their Directives.
Not that his time on board the Axiom had been without conflict. Auto's Directive had been to ensure the survival of the humans on board the Axiom – and the survival of one plant upon the Earth was hardly evidence enough that the planet was now a thriving world suitable for human habitation once more. So Auto had tried to thwart the return of the Axiom to Earth – and WALL-E had nearly lost his sense of 'I' in the process. He had only been able to get back his sense of self when EVE's kiss had rebooted his system and the essence of his being.
And now the Axiom, and the humans, had returned to the Earth. While the humans had been living in space, they had become fat and lazy, as robots had catered for their every need, to their every requirement, until they had become unable to do very much at all without robotic help. But now, humans understood better than they had done before – robots were useful, could help them – but that did not mean that they should rely on them to do every little job for them, tasks that they were quite able to do without assistance.
Now, they had found a better way – working with the robots, to clean up their world, to make it a healthy place to live and thrive once more. And the plant that WALL-E had found, still in the old boot, had been planted in the ground. Over time, it had grown high, become strong – and it was now watered and cared for by robots and humanity, working together for this shared goal.
As WALL-E and EVE looked up into its branches, WALL-E knew that his Directive had been fulfilled – maybe not in the way that he had first contemplated, but successfully, all the same.
And so, after the long years of doing what he was built for, he had finally completed what he was meant for, in this renewed, healthy, recovered Earth – under the branches of the precious plant that had changed his existence forever.
FIN
1 Isaac Asimov's "Three Laws of Robotics"