In 1930, Robots Were Stealing Musicians' Jobs

Was this the first anti-robot uprising?

2 min read
In 1930, Robots Were Stealing Musicians' Jobs

I lost my job to a robot once, but I certainly wasn't the first person to have this happen to them. Back in the 1930s, the invention of synchronized sound rendered live musicians who played accompaniment at movie theaters as superfluous. The American Federation of Musicians wasn't about to take the loss of their livelihood lying down, so they orchestrated a PR campaign to try to stop the evil music robots from taking over.

It didn't work.

According to these ads, robotic musicians (i.e. pre-recorded) music can never be the same, since "music is an emotional art, a form of social intercourse, and hence dependent upon human contact." I won't deny that they've got a point (which is why we still have orchestras instead of symphony halls full of speakers), and reading it today, it almost makes you want to agree with the point they were making eighty years ago:

The time is coming fast when the only living thing around a motion picture house will be the person who sells you your ticket. Everything else will be mechanical. Canned drama, canned music, canned vaudeville. We think the public will tire of mechanical music and will want the real thing. We are not against scientific development of any kind, but it must not come at the expense of art. We are not opposing industrial progress. We are not even opposing mechanical music except where it is used as a profiteering instrument for artistic debasement.


What a disappointment we'd be to all of these musicians from the 1930s, but opposing industrial progress and scientific development in any form is usually a lost cause, even if the reasons behind it do appeal to the soul:

Whether or not robots can demonstrate creativity is still a contested topic: robots can certainly demonstrate evolved randomness, even themed pseudo-randomness in a musical setting, and whether you want to call that creativity is (to some extent) semantics. I'm reasonably sure that at some point, robots will be able to pass a creative Turing test (whether it's musical or otherwise artistic), and then we'll have to decide whether that means that they're creative enough to be thought of as maybe, slightly, just a little bit human.

[ Smithsonian Magazine ]

The Conversation (0)

The Bionic-Hand Arms Race

The prosthetics industry is too focused on high-tech limbs that are complicated, costly, and often impractical

12 min read
A photograph of a young woman with brown eyes and neck length hair dyed rose gold sits at a white table. In one hand she holds a carbon fiber robotic arm and hand. Her other arm ends near her elbow. Her short sleeve shirt has a pattern on it of illustrated hands.

The author, Britt Young, holding her Ottobock bebionic bionic arm.

Gabriela Hasbun. Makeup: Maria Nguyen for MAC cosmetics; Hair: Joan Laqui for Living Proof

In Jules Verne’s 1865 novel From the Earth to the Moon, members of the fictitious Baltimore Gun Club, all disabled Civil War veterans, restlessly search for a new enemy to conquer. They had spent the war innovating new, deadlier weaponry. By the war’s end, with “not quite one arm between four persons, and exactly two legs between six,” these self-taught amputee-weaponsmiths decide to repurpose their skills toward a new projectile: a rocket ship.

The story of the Baltimore Gun Club propelling themselves to the moon is about the extraordinary masculine power of the veteran, who doesn’t simply “overcome” his disability; he derives power and ambition from it. Their “crutches, wooden legs, artificial arms, steel hooks, caoutchouc [rubber] jaws, silver craniums [and] platinum noses” don’t play leading roles in their personalities—they are merely tools on their bodies. These piecemeal men are unlikely crusaders of invention with an even more unlikely mission. And yet who better to design the next great leap in technology than men remade by technology themselves?

Keep Reading ↓Show less