The sexbot apocalypse
Satisfaction really is guaranteed — and that’s the problem
James Adams
June 17, 2019
1:54 PM
A romantic dinner for two, five years from now:
Karen is sitting across the table from Ryan. Sipping her oaky but floral Chardonnay, she reflects on just how great life is these days.
Ryan is everything she ever wanted in a man. His skin tone is exactly the color and feel she was looking for. His conversation is interesting, ranging sensitively from Tolstoy to cheeseburgers. Thanks to facial recognition, he always knows her mood. It’s almost uncanny how he’s always there to give just the right amount of empathy, just at the right time, or even slightly earlier. He knows her likes and dislikes, her interests and her expertise. At last, she has found her intellectual equal.
https://spectator.us/sexbot-apocalypse/
