Ishiguro’s exploration of technology and humanity

“The human heart. Do you think there is such a thing? Something that makes each of us special and individual?” When I read this question put up to Klara, an Artificial Friend (AF) in Kazuo Ishiguro’s Klara and the Sun (2021), it prompted me to think about what is it that ‘makes us human’. Our ability to feel different emotions, but more importantly, our capacity to introspect and form cultures which pass down such complex knowledge is what sets us apart. But constant evolution has left the biological body far behind, and as technology enhances our everyday lives, we cannot claim anything as inherently human. Kazuo Ishiguro, the British author, explores this idea in the majority of his works, bringing in technology in a way that throws light onto our loss of humanity in the quest to become better, superior beings.

Klara and the Sun is a story about Klara, an Artificial Friend (AF), a cyborg designed to be a companion for young teenagers. It’s eerily reminiscent of how people have started using AI chatbots as a substitute for relationships in the real world. In Ishiguro’s world, genetic improvements for children are the norm and AFs like Klara are manufactured to provide primarily for children – to be a plaything, a servant, or just a symbol of having acquired the latest technology. Josie chooses Klara out of all the machines present because she feels a certain affinity with her. But her mother, Chrissie, buys Klara as much for herself as for her daughter.

Having lost a daughter earlier to the process of gene-editing, Chrissie is trying to find an exact replacement for Josie. Klara realises the complexity involved, and goes beyond the behaviour she was programmed to perform by risking her own functioning to save Josie’s life. She displays genuine emotions, that do not arise from a beating heart, but through the constant acts of care and compassion that Klara observes and performs till the very end.

Similar to Klara and the Sun is another novel by Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go (2005), set in an England which has advanced to the point where clones are created and ‘educated’ in boarding schools like Hailsham, for the sole purpose of harvesting organs. But the students believed that they could get out of this cycle of ‘donation’ by creating exceptional art. Later on, the founders of the school revealed that their art was only a means to determine if they “had souls at all.” It did not lead to the termination of the harvesting because the harsh, scientific order refused to recognise the damage it was inflicting in its pursuit of cures.

Philosophy enters AI

Our refusal to let go of this notion that we are special, that our heart is a unique thing, is reflected in the novel through the inability of the humans to recognise the lives of their own that the clones had taken on. So, if the organ which is pumping life into us non-stop is not the marker of us being special individuals, then what does it mean for the development of artificial intelligence, which is progressing at an almost threatening pace?

While AI continues to reduce critical thinking in the public sphere, the firms themselves have started hiring philosophers. Their job is to improve overall reasoning in the model by integrating human values, which will help in solving ethical and moral dilemmas. Although this has suddenly opened up a new job role for philosophers, it raises concerns regarding our increasing reliance on AI to make moral judgements.

Do we really need a model that is training itself on centuries of human behaviour, or do we just need to return to the values of compassion, care, and loyalty that are becoming increasingly rare in today’s times? It will take a long time for us to develop cyborgs that are as advanced as Ishiguro’s, but his depiction of robotic beings displaying more empathy and concern for their loved ones than their human counterparts should make us reflect on our own relationship with technology.

(The author is an intern with The Indian Express)