Reprogramming the Terminator

The unknown future rolls toward us

From the first flame kindled by cave-dwellers, to the latest android lurching through the Boston Dynamics prototyping lab, technology has always been a mixed bag for humanity. We are fascinated by its potential, but often suffer from the unintended consequences of its use.

This fraught relationship between man and machine has been a persistent topic of conversation in Western culture. The ancient Greeks told the story of Daedalus, a brilliant inventor who built wings so that he and his son Icarus could escape imprisonment. Daedalus’s plan worked, but with a tragic twist: Icarus plunged to his death because, ignoring his father’s warning, he flew so high that the sun’s heat melted the wax holding his wings together.

The Fall of Icarus by Peter Paul Rubens (circa 1636)

On the surface, the legend of Icarus is a straightforward fable about the danger of not heeding your elders. But it is also a cautionary tale about the dangers of technological progress. Icarus didn’t die just because of his youthful impetuousness, he died because his father had the hubris to think that men should fly like birds. Given the chance to soar like an eagle, how could Icarus be expected to resist temptation? It’s easy to imagine Daedalus, distraught, cursing himself for the ill-conceived invention that cost him his son.

Again and again over the centuries, the idea recurs that hubris and temptation will inevitably turn progress into tragedy. In Genesis, Adam and Eve’s hunger for forbidden knowledge resulted in humanity’s expulsion from the Garden of Eden. Later in the Bible, the architects of the Tower of Babel were arrogant enough to build a structure that reached almost to heaven; as a result, they lost the ability to speak a common language, and were scattered across the Earth. The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, The Golem, Frankenstein, and a plethora of other stories explored this topic in different ways.

The modern era brought us Blade Runner, Jurassic Park, The Matrix, Resident Evil, and countless B-movies based on the concept of inventions becoming dangerous. Even a warm-hearted kids’ movie like Wall-E depicts a scenario in which hubris and temptation have led to destruction of the planet and a surviving population whose laziness and over-reliance on technology has cost them their independence and even the ability to walk.

In most of these films, the battle lines are fairly permanent. Humans are on one side, and machines/zombies/robots are on the other.

And then there’s The Terminator. Or, more specifically, Terminator 2: Judgment Day. While the original film followed the conventional paradigm of humans vs. machines, T2 introduced a novel concept: reprogramming the Terminator. In John Connor’s world, humans have the ability to take a piece of technology designed to destroy them, and turn it into something that would protect them instead. Other movies may have done this previously, and certainly others (such as The Matrix) did it subsequently, but arguably none have done it as saliently as T2.

The concept of turning a killer robot into the ultimate bodyguard isn’t just cool, it’s revolutionary. By suggesting that human ingenuity can not just mitigate the problems created by hubris (as in I Am Legend and World War Z, where scientists discover cures for zombie contagions created by other scientists), but actually turn dangerous technology into a valuable asset, it flips centuries of technophobic mythology inside out.

“Watching John with the machine, it was suddenly so clear. The Terminator would never stop. It would never leave him, and it would never hurt him, never shout at him, or get drunk and hit him, or say it was too busy to spend time with him. It would always be there. And it would die to protect him. Of all the would-be fathers who came and went over the years, this thing, this machine, was the only one who measured up. In an insane world, it was the sanest choice.”

- Sarah Connor, Terminator 2: Judgment Day

Even more importantly, the concept of reprogramming the Terminator provides a useful way to think about our own struggles with technology. As robots and artificial intelligence that were pure sci-fi a few decades ago rapidly become part of everyday life, it’s clear that the genie is not going back into the bottle; Icarus is flying higher and faster than ever, and we are all along for the ride. When the wax melts, we need to be ready with a Plan B before we take a mile-high swan dive.

And Plan B, in this mixed metaphor, is to capture and reprogram Terminators. Or, to put it another way, to figure out how to ensure that the technology our hubristic, contemporary Daedaluses and Dr. Frankensteins have created works for us, instead of against us. As Sarah Connor discovered, in an insane world, it is the sanest choice.