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Writing Robots Part 1: The Robotic Perspective


robot holding pencil

Let’s pretend you’re a robot.


You were not born, you were built. Your body parts, not organic—but manufactured. Your thoughts, not a flurry of neural transmissions—but the result of a meticulously programmed system. Programming is all you are, really; every conscious moment of your life could be saved and uploaded to a flash drive.


And your creator, humanity, looks at you with a mix of nerves, excitement, and absolute terror at being met with such a viscerally real reflection of itself.


Let’s take a step back.


What does it mean to be a robot? There are countless different factors that go into how a robot is written; so how can you (the organic you) write a robotic character that feels compelling and fits with the narrative you’ve composed?


A Body


When your character and their environment are built from the same gears, wiring, hinges, and metal panels, they’re faced with a conundrum—asking themself where they end and where the parts begin. 


Think about the robotic character you’re building, and think about how they’re built—literally. Think about how many legs, arms, or eyes your robot might have. Maybe they have a set of wheels. Perhaps everything mechanical about them is hidden away, behind synthetic skin and hair—an attempt to make them resemble an organic being as much as possible. Maybe they have no body at all.


Once you’ve gotten past this stage of development, consider how your robot might come to terms with their body. For example…

  • How well can your robot see? Smell? Hear? How well can they feel? Their physiology will affect the way they perceive the world, both figuratively and literally.

  • Every so often, they’ll probably need a part replaced. How would they feel about this process?

  • Does your robot’s appearance help them find identity among others? Or do they experience a sense of complete isolation?

  • At its core, non-organic life exists at odds with nature; just being alive as a robot is antithetical to it. How does your character come to terms with this idea?


Each one of these possibilities opens up so much potential when it comes to writing robotic characters. Their mechanical state of being is a critical part of their identity, so how those mechanics physically manifest is just as important.


A Mirror


Understanding a robot’s perspective of humanity—of their creator—is crucial to understanding how the two coexist. A robot story may not always center around humans, but a robot, at its core, was built to mirror humanity; thus, the two are inextricably bound together.


Consider how your robot views their own lack of humanity:

  • Does your robot embrace what they are? Or do they try as hard as they can to be human, in whatever way they know how?

  • Consider how humanity might treat robots, if humanity is present in your story at all: are robots an oppressed class? Treated as lesser beings?


Like an unruly child, a robot may choose to rebel against their programming. Alternatively, they may adhere to it strictly. There will always be a wide range of personalities and perspectives that drive robots to act in a variety of ways—like with humans.


Why would a robot choose to rebel, anyway? Hatred, or just curiosity? Maybe the act of rebellion is merely a human thing to do—sometimes, just as a child often becomes like their parents, a robot can’t help but mirror their creator, despite their best efforts.


A Sum of Parts


Get it? It’s the conclusion, so it’s a sum, of…okay, whatever.


While a robot character written into a story may go on a classic adventure, and experience an arc of growth just like any organic character, there’s so much to consider at the fundamental level, before any of that takes place.


You need to think about robots in the context of humanity. As a robotic being, you’re a creation, met with its creator. This, ultimately, drives a questioning of the self. Therefore, a robot, at its core, is an echo—a reflection.


In whatever way you see fit as the creator of your story, it’s up to you to figure out this robot’s portrayal, and how it works in tandem with the narrative you’ve built.


And it’s a good idea to, once in a while, put yourself in the robot’s perspective. To understand what makes a robot who they are, think about what makes you, you.

About the author: Jules Pelayo has just finished up their first year at UC Santa Barbara as an undergrad, double-majoring in English and History of Art & Architecture. Jules always loved storytelling—both science fiction and fantasy have called to them in particular. Jules really admires fiction’s ability to act as a mirror for reality, calling for a personal reflection upon society, culture, and the self. Other than literature, Jules also loves film, art, anything Transformers-related, and iced coffee.

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