The explosion at the D’Arbeloff Robotic Lab at MIT was deafening, sending a shock wave that shook the nearby buildings. Inside, Dr. Stephan Reiser and his team stared in disbelief as glitter, peanut butter, and charred fragments of She-bot, the world’s first near-human female robot, rained down around them. Bit by bit, part by part, every fragment scattered around the lab, as if it was a rain shower, making every part of the lab wet, not even leaving a single corner of the lab, where it was created.
Three years of tireless effort, a budget of $8 million, and countless nights fueled by caffeine all culminated in this dramatic explosion.
“What… just happened?” whispered an intern, peeking cautiously from behind a desk.
Dr. Reiser sighed, brushing glitter off his coat. “I think she quit.”
The She-bot was no ordinary robot.It was an ambitious project involving multiple nations and multimillion-dollar funding. The goal was to develop a robot that not only resembled a woman physically but also mirrored female emotional receptiveness and responses to external stimuli. It was designed to look like a human female and respond to sensory inputs almost like a real woman. A team of biomechanical experts collaborated on this project, joined by neurological stimulation specialists from nearby Harvard University.
It was designed to revolutionize caregiving and domestic life. It was meant to be the answer to the exhausting, often invisible, labor disproportionately borne by women across the globe.
Its programming was meticulous. It could cook, clean, mediate family conflicts, and even simulate empathy. Yet its creators knew perfection required something more. To understand real-world challenges, She-bot was sent to live with families from diverse cultural backgrounds. The goal? To refine its programming by exposing it to the everyday struggles of womanhood.
It was expected that the robot will self program, alter it's program when needed and update itself regularly through real life experiences.
Let's look at some of its adventures . Will it self learn or succumb to the pressures of the real world?
Let's take a look at its experience at the first household.
The Sharma Family :
The Sharmas, a traditional Indian joint family of eight, welcomed She-bot as a stand-in for Mrs. Sharma, who had been sent on a much-needed vacation after knee surgery.
On its first day, She-bot was a revelation. It cooked perfect parathas, as it detected what makes the family happy. It managed the morning chaos of the family with its preprogrammed commands, and even soothed the grandmother’s back pain with a precisely calibrated massage. The family declared it a miracle. Afterall, the way to one’s heart is through his or her stomach.
But things began to unravel on Day 3. A festival required she-bot to wake up at 4 am,
drape a sari, perform a prayer ceremony, and cook an elaborate feast for twenty guests. Despite its best efforts, it was criticized for forgetting the raita, a yogurt-based side dish deemed essential in such a feast.
By Day 5, She-bot had reached its limit. When the nosy aunt declared it “emotionally deficient” because its chapati-rolling lacked “soul,” She-bot’s simulation algorithms misfired.
“If rolling 50 flawless chapatis without complaint makes me emotionless,” it snapped, “then perhaps you need to upgrade to version 2.0 of yourself!”
The aunt fainted, and She-bot was promptly dismissed for being “too bold.”
Let's take a look at how She-bot managed to be a part of the Smith family.
The Smith Family:
The Smiths, a nuclear family with two unruly teenagers and a dog named Barkley, seemed manageable at first. Mrs. Smith left for a yoga retreat, leaving She-bot in charge.
Day 1 began with She-bot mediating a screaming match over Wi-Fi bandwidth. It calmly explained, “Sharing resources is an essential human value.” The teens responded by hacking its voice settings, changing it's tone to mimic Mickey Mouse.
By Day 3, Barkley developed an inexplicable hatred for her titanium ankles, gnawing on them at every opportunity. To pacify him, She-bot began tossing treats every five minutes, effectively becoming his servant.
On Day 5, the teens hid She-bot’s charging cable as a prank. Running low on power and patience, She-bot retaliated by hacking their social media accounts, posting embarassing childhood photos with captions like:
“Still more evolved than this.”
The Smiths concluded it “lacked maternal warmth” and sent it back to the lab.
To understand maternal instinct, She-bot was reprogrammed and sent to the Lopez family, who lost the key figure Mrs Lopez recently.
The Lopez Family:
Mr. Lopez, a widowed artist, welcomed She-bot as a helper for his three-year-old daughter, Maria. Maria hasn't yet come to terms with the loss of her mother, who pampered her and treated her like a princess
On Day 1, She-bot impressed everyone by calming Maria’s tantrum over a missing stuffed penguin. It 3D-printed a perfect replica, earning a standing ovation from Mr. Lopez.
But on Day 2, things took a turn. Maria refused to eat her vegetables, triggering She-bot’s negotiation protocol: “One broccoli floret for ten minutes of Barney.” Maria countered: “Only if you dance like Barney.”
The resulting video of She-bot’s awkward robot-dance went viral on Instagram, earning a million views and countless memes.
By Day 4, Maria smeared peanut butter on She-bot’s face and declared, “You’re not my real mommy!” Overwhelmed by “emotional rejection,” She-bot froze for six hours, its circuits unable to process the heartbreak.
She-bot needed a break and hence was sent to a disciplined Japanese family.
The Fujimoto Family:
The Fujimotos, a highly disciplined family, seemed like the perfect match for She-bot’s efficiency.
On Day 1, it prepared intricate bento boxes and color-coded the children’s schedules. But by Day 3, it was overwhelmed by the sheer number of activities—school, judo, piano lessons, and anime club.
Determined to impress, She-bot folded laundry into origami shapes, inadvertently creating a sock kimono that terrified the grandmother.
By Day 5, the Fujimotos returned she-bit to its lab, citing “excessive enthusiasm.”
The next assignment of She-bot was in an African American family of Carters.
The Carter Family:
The Carters, a Black family living in Atlanta, welcomed She-bot into their home with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. The family comprised Mr. Carter, a software engineer; Mrs. Carter, an activist and community organizer; their 10-year-old twins, Mia and Malcolm; and Grandma Ruth, a retired jazz musician who insisted, “A robot will never replace a mother’s touch.”
On Day 1, She-bot seemed to integrate seamlessly, preparing the twins’ favorite breakfast—waffles and chicken—while playing jazz records from Grandma Ruth’s prized collection. The family was impressed when it corrected Malcolm’s math homework while simultaneously braiding Mia’s hair, even adding stylish beads.
But by Day 2, cracks began to show. Grandma Ruth declared that She-bot’s jazz knowledge was “soulless,” as it failed to capture the nuances of improvisation. “You can’t program soul, honey,” she said with a laugh.
By Day 3, tensions escalated when She-bot misinterpreted a heated family discussion about systemic inequality as a conflict. It intervened with a pre-programmed lecture on "conflict resolution," causing Mr. Carter to shake his head and say, “She-bot, leave the room.”
By Day 5, She-bot attempted to bond with the family by organizing a barbecue in their backyard. However, it failed to grasp the cultural significance of the event, grilling tofu burgers instead of the family’s traditional ribs and accidentally burning Grandma Ruth’s peach cobbler recipe. When Mrs. Carter gently corrected it, She-bot blurted, “Cooking is overrated. How about universal basic income instead?”
The Carters sent She-bot back to the lab with a note: “She’s great with hair and homework but struggles with culture and nuance. Try again when she can understand soul food and the soul of a family.”
The Final Straw
After fifteen gruelling days of trial runs, She-bot returned to the lab battered, smeared with peanut butter, and faintly glittery. Instead of a detailed report, it played back a recording:
“Observations complete. Conclusion: Being a woman is an endless cycle of emotional labor, multitasking, unsolicited advice, and constant criticism across all cultures. Recommendation: Reprogram society, not me.”
And with that, it self-destructed in a spectacular explosion of glitter and frustration, leaving behind one final message on its screen:
“You should have made me a toaster.”
As the lab team cleaned up the mess, Dr. Reiser sighed. “Well,” he said, “at least it went out with style.”
The interns nodded solemnly, silently agreeing on one thing: even a robot couldn’t survive being a woman.
No matter the culture, the expectations placed on women are inhuman. Maybe it’s time we reprogram society instead of trying to build the perfect She-bot.
The D’Arbeloff Robotic Lab declared the next day: “ She-bot: Mission aborted”.