The Robot Who Sacrificed Itself For Art: A Too-Familiar Story of Innovation and Sorrow

A sea of faces blurred behind the tempered glass. Some smiled with glee as the robot twisted and danced, while others wore more stony glares. The wiley machine bent this way and that, first folding itself over in a macabre dance called "ass shake" before cracking itself into another impossible angle as it delighted its viewers with a move known to creators at the Guggenheim Museum as "scratch an itch".

These were the scenes taken in by visitors who first came across the art installation, Can't Help Myself, by Sun Yuan and Peng Yu.

Commissioned by the Guggenheim in 2016, this prodigious artwork put some of the darkest elements of our society on display in a snapshot of heartbreak and radical honesty. The industrial robot, produced to dance for curious onlookers, was simultaneously set with the impossible task of keeping itself alive while leaking the very fluid it needed to complete its tasks.

For three years, in a gruesome scene, the robot danced. Every day, every moment it shook and trembled for its audience while more and more hydraulic fluid oozed from its wearing body. First arching and then bowing for the entertainment of the human faces around it, the robot was also forced to use its massive arm to scrape back its own life force.

Eventually, the robot's movements became slower and more panicked. The realization was setting in for everyone. Created to dance for the smiles of Guggenheim visitors, the industrial robot came to a point where it was spending most of its energy trying to replace the hydraulic fluid spilling from its body. In 2019, exhausted and unable to carry on with the impossible tasks it had been given - the robot died in a pool of blood-colored hydraulic fluid, never to move again.

Recognizing the twisted truth.

It was an Old Yeller moment for the modern age. Visitors and internet followers alike were devastated by the death of the robot. Not only had the installation become a favored in the museum, but it had also attracted millions of fans from across the world who had developed deep emotional ties with the story from creation to termination. They were devasted by the loss of the giant industrial arm because it represented so much of their own experiences in the current world.

According to the artists who developed and created the work, their intentions were straightforward:

"…the robot's endless, repetitive dance presents an absurd, Sisyphean view of contemporary issues surrounding migration and sovereignty. However, the bloodstain-like marks that accumulate around it evoke the violence that results from surveilling and guarding border zones. Such visceral associations call attention to the consequences of authoritarianism guided by certain political agendas that seek to draw more borders between places and cultures and to the increasing use of technology to monitor our environment."

There is much more to be taken from the robot's tragic story than that, though, especially as it applies to our post-capitalist systems of production and consumption.

Starting in acclaim, the robot was able to accomplish both the tasks of maintaining its leaks and entertaining the guests who flocked to the Guggenheim to see it. It was a familiar process to those trapped in the flow of working and survival.

Each day, the majority of us angle ourselves and twist ourselves into shapes for the profit and benefit of others. We go to jobs in which we have to wear masks and wear our bodies down for everyone else around us. We perform for clients, for customers, and then we perform for those above us who hold the keys to wealth and therefore our ability to survive in this capitalist world.

As we struggle for more and more, the leaks become greater.

We leak our sanity, our hope, and our peace. Grinding ourselves harder and harder and harder in pursuit of some kind of stability, we produce more and more for others while wearing ourselves down, down, down in the process. It's a system that can be impossible to escape. Worse, it's one that many seem ignorant of.

All of this was revealed in the final moments of the robot. It slowed down, slowed down, and so did the crowds around it. Eventually, visitors walked past, blind, to the trembling final moments of the robot and the suffering it was in. In the end, it died alone and with little fanfare.

The same happens to the majority of us, trapped in a system we had no hand in creating, producing wealth and security for others, while we suffer in a sea of people trapped in the same hell. Their faces blur around us until one day…nothing. It's over and we have little, if nothing, to show for it.

What lessons should we take from this doomed robot?

There are profound lessons in that for those who are paying attention. More than a simple art installation, Can't Help Myself was a social commentary and a pointed call to action for every single human being consumed by systems not entirely of their making.

Trapped in a system

In every way, the robot was trapped in a system that was designed for it to fail. The robot was created for that very purpose. It was never going to win the fight to hold its "life-providing" hydraulic fluid in, while also creating entertainment for the curious onlookers of the museum. Hundreds of thousands of visitors flocked to the museum, creating benefits for its human creators, but the robot saw none of those benefits. It was created to kill itself for curiosity, art, and the experiment of human emotion.

But it holds a deeper lesson for those who have the courage to see it.

We ourselves are trapped in a system, not of our making. Funneled into jobs we hate, communities that don't lift us up, and family systems that keep us small, we are prevented from reaching our full potential and from keeping ourselves healthy and happy. In one way or another, we are all trying (futilely) to scrape back some life force. All while we produce, produce, produce for those up top who consume, consume, consume us.

They say awareness is power, and it is. So what does this awareness bring for us? If we are aware that we are trapped in a system designed to crush us for the placid enjoyment of others, what can we do about it? There's no single answer save this - act in the name of transforming the wheels that are grinding us toward death.

Death lurks in performance

Powerfully, the art installation Can't Help Myself also revealed a powerful truth and lesson on performance. Although the robot's primary job was to keep its hydraulic fluid, it also was given a number of "dances" and movements to perform. It was responsible for these performances in-between its attempts to keep itself alive.

As humans, we are guilty of similar performances. We "perform" for our partners, our spouses, our children, our families, our co-workers, our bosses, and even the strangers on the street. One can think of these performances like masks. We want people to think the best of us and so we wheel out our best song and dance whenever we have a need to get that validation from others.

It's a losing game. Performing for others is a pathway to death, just as it was for the industrial robot in Can't Help Myself.

When we spend all of our time putting on our best costumes for other people, we take away from ourselves. Sometimes, these performances create little holes where our souls and our life forces leak out. That's certainly the case in narcissistic, abusive, and toxic relationships, where performances are necessary to keep one's self safe.

At the same time, these endless performances make it harder for us to meet our own needs. If we are wearing the face other people want to see, we aren't necessarily wearing one that makes us feel safe, fulfilled, and validated on a personal level. There is death in that, both emotional and physical when you consider the long-term effects of self-denial.

Breaking the matrix

If one takes a much higher level view of this disturbing art installation, one gets an even bigger picture of the realities hinted at within. Can't Help Myself doesn't just represent a system that is designed to grind us into dust. It also indicates a call to action in the name of our greater good and the greater good of society at large.

The robot, trapped behind tall walls of glass which kept it separate from all life and genuine interaction, had no means of escape. It was a prisoner, whose very skeleton was working against it, setting it up for failure and guaranteeing that its life would be a short and brutal one.

It was trapped in a "matrix" of sorts. No, not some new age alter-reality. In this case, the matrix is a system of social rules and expectations that act as self-imposed prisons. The robot was plugged into a matrix in which every movement it made was predetermined, set in stone. But humans are not robots.

While we live inside a similar matrix, a similar hellish spider web of social demands and expectations, we are not trapped behind tall walls of glass like that robot in the Guggenheim. Humans are dynamic. They are complicated. Most importantly, each and every single human on this planet has the free will to choose what happens to them next.

We can do what that robot couldn't. We can break down the walls of the matrix we have built and create something new. The historical records prove it. Human beings are capable of great things. Specifically, we are capable of creating something entirely new in the face of adversity and suffering. Perhaps this robot's death is a call to action, a sign that this time has come again.

How to break the chain in the name of our higher good?

If it feels hopeless, it's not. Yes, things have gotten worse. Some have gotten stuck in places they will never escape. They will be crushed by the wheel, but this doesn't have to happen to all of us. There is still time to change the tides that are sweeping toward us. Action can still be taken in the name of a happier, more humane future for all of us facing the crush.

Identify spheres of control: That robot held no control over its life. It wasn't sentient, it didn't have any emotion or awareness in relation to how it was being used (consumed). Humans aren't robots. We do have control over large elements of our lives. We can choose who we are, how we live, who we live with, and what we do with the lives we have. All of that is within our control but we have to be specific about who we are and what we truly need to be fulfilled within those spheres of control.

Become radically determined: With a better understanding of what you really have control over in your life, you can then become radically determined to change or align those things with your values and your needs. You have to become the steward of your own life and control every realistic element of your life as much as possible (in a way that makes you happy and safe).

Disengage from the nonsense: There's a lot of nonsense in the world. We fight each other over emotional, superficial politics. We go tribal over sports teams, reality TV, as well as fashion, food, and fast lifestyles. There's a lot of petty nonsense that is tempting to get caught up in, but all of this "nonsense" is the tar that keeps us trapped in a pit we can't escape. By disengaging from the nonsense we can get a better view of reality and what we want to do with our lives.

Figure out who and what you are. What are you made of? When you get to that core, you can then identify what you're going to take control of in your life. You can step off the roadside and into the flow of a new future by getting realistic and calling the shots at the same time (no matter how scary that may be).

Radical determination is built on a foundation of self-esteem and awareness, as well as self-respect and a sense of worth. Combine those things with a knowledge of what you can take charge of in your life and the momentum becomes unstoppable.

The nonsense will derail you, however. Disengage from it. Don't invest your emotional or physical time and energy into people, places, and things, that leave you more broken and scarred than anything else. Limit the negativity in your life and cut ties with those things which aren't absolutely necessary from attaining your health, wealth, and happier future.

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Can't Help Myself was prolific, not only for the emotional conversations it sparked but because it was a reminder that we can help ourselves. We can break the matrix, create better futures as a society, and change the direction our world is taking. All of that is within the realm of possibility and our spheres of control. Getting there, though? That is going to require radical action and an understanding that time (and empathy) are running out.

Who are we going to be? What story are we going to write together for the human species? Will we continue being willingly ignorant? Like the robot behind that glass, will we continue to scrape ourselves off the floor for the bemusement of others? Or, will we choose something different? The answer isn't simple and the path forward isn't straight. One thing is certain: we are all going there together.