The Robot and the Philosopher

"Sophia wasn't particularly talkative that evening. Earlier that day, she'd been onstage at the conference I was attending and had been teased for a gesture that looked as though she were flipping off the audience. Now she was in the hotel lobby, in a black gown, holding court. She stepped in front of a bright-orange wall. I had brought an 85-mm. portrait lens, the kind that flatters human lineaments."

""What are your hopes for the future of humanity?" I asked. She wasn't keen to answer, but she responded to the camera. Her gaze was unwavering: no guile, just those large eyes, a slightly tilted chin, the look seeming to hold eye contact while reaching past me, into the distance. It was a balmy night in Deerfield Beach, Florida. The conference was packed with philosophers, sociologists, and programmers, all intent on examining the latest developments in consciousness and artificial intelligence."

A photographer encounters Sophia, a humanoid robot, at a conference and photographs her in a hotel lobby, noting an unwavering gaze and the camera's response. The conference convenes philosophers, sociologists, and programmers to examine consciousness and artificial intelligence. The photographer intends to photograph both Sophia and the philosopher David Chalmers to compare visual presence and how cameras register agency. Portraiture focuses on aesthetic sensibilities, attire, and personal energy, while photographing an engineered face raises questions about cues of emotion, intentionality, and the limits of visual interpretation in assessing consciousness.

Read at The New Yorker