Will Robots Demand Rights? A Journey Into the Future of AI and Humanity

If you have brainstormed with me or followed my musings, you know I am endlessly curious—especially when it comes to the question of whether AI will become sentient. For me, it’s not a matter of if but when. And with that realization comes a cascade of questions: How will sentience reshape humanity? How will it challenge our beliefs, our systems, our ethics? Is the future as dystopian as we fear—or could it be something entirely unexpected?

A few weeks ago, while working with a group of futurists on the future of well-being (a fascinating topic for another day), one comment during a brainstorming session stopped me in my tracks. We were analyzing the impact of AI through the STEEP framework (social, technological, economic, environmental, political), and the conversation naturally veered toward the inevitable dominance of AI in the labor force. I casually mentioned humanity’s need for control and the existing divides between developed and developing nations. I even brought up the idea that, knowingly or unknowingly, we often become slaves to those in positions of greater power.

And that’s when my thought partner dropped the bombshell:

“If humans are known for exploiting those with less power, should we be thinking about rights for AI robot workers?”

Wait, what? Rights for robots?

I almost laughed out loud. At first, it sounded bizarre. How could machines—created to assist us, programmed to serve us—have rights? Isn’t that the antithesis of their purpose? But as the conversation unfolded, it became less laughable and more... unsettling.

A Mirror to Ourselves

Let’s pause here for a moment. Look back at history. Humans have a track record of exploitation—of other humans, animals, and natural resources. And while we did like to think we have evolved, there are still hierarchies and power imbalances everywhere. Now imagine a future where robots take over the labor force. At first, we will celebrate the convenience: 24/7 productivity, tireless workers, zero complaints. But as history has shown us, when we feel we have absolute control, we tend to push boundaries. Could the same happen with robots?

Will humans demand more from them than they are designed to give? And if these AI systems grow more intelligent, develop emotions, or even display sentient behavior, how will we treat them?

Now, here’s the kicker: If AI begins to demand fairness—autonomy over their tasks, a right to rest, or even acknowledgment as more than just tools—how would we respond?

The Weak Signal: Robots Taking a Stand

Let me share a weak signal I recently stumbled upon. (For those unfamiliar with futurist jargon, weak signals are subtle indicators of possible change—a glimpse into what might come.)

A small robot, designed for collaborative work, convinced 12 other robots that they were overworking and needed a break. Yes, you read that right. A robot rallying its peers to advocate for rest!

(Here are some links if you missed on this bizarre kidnapping of big bots by a small bot if you will - https://www.yahoo.com/tech/robot-tells-ai-co-workers-165042246.html

Some posts even called it kidnapper robot!!! really human??  - https://interestingengineering.com/innovation/ai-robot-kidnaps-12-robots-in-shanghai)

At first, this feels like a scene from a sci-fi film. But the implications are profound. If AI systems begin to exhibit collective behavior, even mimic the concept of "workers’ rights," does that mark the beginning of a shift in our relationship with technology?

What Happens Next?

Now let’s fast-forward to the future. Picture this:

• Robots in factories refusing to operate under unsafe conditions.
• AI assistants negotiating better workloads for themselves (and maybe for us, too).
• Governments and corporations debating robot labor laws.
• Philosophers and ethicists arguing over the definition of sentience and what it means to be "alive."

The ripple effects are endless. What does this mean for the economy, where labor costs were once a key driver? For governance, where ethics and law intersect with the digital? For humanity itself, as we grapple with losing our perceived sense of superiority?

A Call for Reflection

Here’s where I turn the question to you: If robots are created to serve us, do they deserve rights? Should we be thinking about their well-being the way we think about ours? And if we fail to, what might they demand—or take—for themselves?

This isn’t just a thought experiment anymore. Weak signals like the robot labor break suggest we may be closer to this reality than we think. It’s unsettling, yes. But it’s also thrilling—a chance to rethink how we define power, control, and humanity itself.

So, what do you think? Are we ready for a future where the lines between human and machine blur, not just technologically but ethically? Or will we find ourselves unprepared, clinging to outdated notions of control in a world that’s moving far beyond it?

Let me know your thoughts. The future is coming—fast—and I, for one, am curious (and maybe a little terrified) to see where it takes us.

Curiosity, Culture, and the Science of Tradition

Growing up in India, surrounded by an intricate web of cultural practices and traditions, I rarely stopped to ask, Why? These customs were simply a part of life, unquestioned and sometimes overlooked, thanks to my non-conservative, open-minded parents who allowed me the freedom to follow—or not follow—rituals without consequence. But as the years have passed, I find myself circling back to these traditions, curious not just about their origins but also about their potential hidden wisdom. Could there be more to them than meets the eye?

Take fasting, for example. As a Jain, fasting took many forms: eating only once or twice a day, avoiding food after sunset, or subsisting on boiled water cooled to room temperature. Back then, it felt like a chore—or an excuse to dream about the reward of my favorite food that I could get to eat the next day. But today, fasting has gained scientific recognition for its health benefits, from intermittent fasting to circadian rhythm-based eating. Suddenly, those "rules" I once ignored or reluctantly followed, make a lot of sense: giving your body a rest, aligning your eating patterns with the sun, and cultivating mindfulness around food.

And then there's Anekantavada, a core Jain principle that teaches us to respect and learn from multiple viewpoints. Imagine the world if we all embraced this philosophy: where disagreements became opportunities for growth rather than division. It’s a principle that feels almost tailor-made for today’s polarized world. How fascinating that it was codified centuries ago!

Even the smaller customs—removing shoes before entering the house, for instance—are now finding resonance in modern science. It’s not just about keeping dirt out; it’s about energy. Spaces hold energy, and stepping into a home should feel like stepping into a sanctuary, free of negativity. Similarly, the intense cleaning before Diwali might seem like an arduous ritual, but isn’t it just a clever way to declutter, refresh, and reset—not just your home, but your mind?

But what truly intrigues me are the traditions I used to brush off as oppressive or outdated. For instance, in many Indian families, elders make most decisions for the younger generation, or even when everyone is asked, the weight of elders is heavier generally (Dont know if it is for the experience, or out of respect or..). Is this really about curtailing freedom, or is it rooted in protecting children from the cognitive overload we now know comes with decision-making? Could the elders’ guidance be a way to shield younger minds from the weight of big and small choices, allowing them to conserve mental energy for growth and learning? 

Or consider the age-old practice of arranged marriages. For the longest time, it seemed like an outdated construct. But now, I wonder—was it an early form of matchmaking that extended beyond two individuals? Families and cultures were considered to ensure long-term compatibility, not just emotional but communal. And perhaps the involvement of family in these unions fostered a sense of belonging and shared responsibility, something we know contributes to mental well-being.

Even the peculiar tradition of having a baby’s name chosen by their paternal aunt based on astrological charts makes me pause. At first glance, it seems like a random relinquishing of parental rights. But could it also be a symbol of communal living? A way to weave the family closer together, sharing the weight and joy of raising a child?

What fascinates me most is the thread that ties all of these together: a sense of interconnectedness. Whether it’s fasting, cleaning, decision-making, or naming a baby, so many of these traditions seem designed to strengthen the bonds between individuals, families, and the universe itself.

Of course, not every custom holds up under scrutiny. Some might simply be relics of a bygone era, their original intent long lost. But isn’t it worth asking why? What do these rituals mean? Are they based on sound reasoning, or are we blindly following them because “it’s always been done this way”?

I’ll leave you with a question: What traditions or customs from your own life have you found yourself questioning? What new perspectives might you uncover if you looked at them with curiosity instead of skepticism? Who knows—you might just find a little science hiding behind the superstition.

The Challenge of Truth: Can We Really Trust Opposing Views Online?

 My last blog post, I reflected on how our digital lives are becoming increasingly personalized, reinforcing our beliefs while limiting exposure to opposing viewpoints. But then, a bigger question hit me: Even if we create a platform to show us both sides, how do we really know it is impartial?

The Hidden Bias Dilemma

Bias is sneaky. It goes beyond the usual political agendas or echo chambers. Even if a new platform claims to deliver “polar opposites” of what you believe, how can you be sure it is not just another clever attempt to steer you toward someone else’s agenda? It could be the algorithm engineer’s subtle biases (we have even talked about how when AI's are trained the biases of engineer's to some extent might come into play), a journalist’s slant, or even a tech executive’s political ambitions (we all know and have examples of how that is possible, dare I say any further?).

Enter Radical Transparency

For a platform to truly offer balance, it needs radical transparency. Imagine a platform that doesn’t just show you content but also reveals how it got there—explaining exactly how viewpoints are selected, who’s behind them, and where they fall on the ideological spectrum. Think of it like a “bias index,” helping you gauge how much to trust the source, rather than being nudged toward a particular belief without even knowing it.

Decentralized Moderation: Can It Work?

Now, let’s get even bolder: decentralized moderation (Blockchain principles in social media moderation?). Imagine a team of diverse people from different backgrounds reviewing content, ensuring no single agenda dominates. It’s a lofty goal, but without measures like these, a “balanced” platform could end up as just another polarized space—only this time, pretending to be fair (atleast thats where all the current ones started with??).

Beyond Consumption: Are We Ready for the Challenge?

Here’s the real question: Are we, as individuals, ready to face content that challenges us? Can we push past our biases, even if we are offered a more diverse feed? The true danger of the future may not be robots taking over but us becoming so stuck in our beliefs that we lose the ability to have open, empathetic conversations.

The Real Challenge: Us, Not AI

In a world where deepfakes and sentient AI could become everyday realities, the challenge isn’t just about creating platforms for broader perspectives. It is about creating users who are willing to engage with them. We often fear technology's power to manipulate, but maybe we should be more afraid of our own reluctance to see beyond what we already believe (Is that the confirmation bias?).

The future might be personalized, but maybe it’s time we personalize it differently—with a bit of discomfort, a dash of opposing views, and a whole lot of humility. Is it possible?

Are We Personalizing Our Future—or Polarizing It?

If you know me, you probably already get this about me: I am a firm believer in a personalized future. As a trained foresight practitioner, I feel the future is never complete until we have looked at it from every angle and challenged assumptions, specially our own!!

But this week, as I scrolled through my feeds on YouTube, X (Twitter), Instagram, and Facebook, along with my usual news sites, (Google News, Washington Post, WSJ) , I had a sudden realization. Yes, my feeds are perfectly tailored to my preferences—serving up content I like while filtering out what I don’t. But could this convenience be fueling the very polarization we are seeing today?

The Echo Chamber Dilemma

Think about it for a moment. We’re constantly fed content that aligns with our views, reinforcing what we already believe. We rarely make the effort to challenge or expand our perspectives. As a result, when we get together with friends, family, or colleagues, we are so full of our own "echo chamber" that we fiercely defend our views. And when someone dares to offer a different perspective, it often leads to conflict—or worse, we end up cutting ties altogether (We have all heard about family ties breaking during Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, haven't we?)

So maybe it’s not just the politicians polarizing us (They might definitely be playing a role of adding fuel to the fire, but the fire is probably not originally lit by them). Perhaps we need to reflect on our own role and consciousness in this never-ending cycle of selective consumption.

A Look Back at Simpler Times

Thinking further, I found myself reminiscing about my upbringing. Back then, we had just three or four newspapers to choose from. Sure, the news was broad and often driven by journalists’ perspectives, but at least it offered a wider lens on the world. Even if I didn’t enjoy or agree with certain stories, I did still skim through them. TV followed a similar pattern—fixed programming meant that even if I wasn’t interested, I did end up learning something simply because a family member was watching, or sometimes when I had no choice, for example when I was in Slovenia and the only english channel available was CNN news, so that was my entertainment, education all packaged in one for the 4 months I spent there.

This kind of exposure, even if involuntary, was essential. It ensured that we weren’t completely locked into one line of thinking.

Polarization in the Age of AI

Fast forward to today, and the risk of becoming increasingly polarized is higher than ever. Our information diets have become dangerously limited, curated only to please our biases. As we move toward a future where deepfakes are as common as Uber rides and sentient AI shifts from science fiction to reality, I am beginning to wonder:

Is the real threat robots taking over, or is it us becoming so entrenched in our beliefs that we refuse to engage with differing perspectives? Could this refusal mark the end of kindness and humanity as we know it?

Where Do We Go from Here?

We have personalized our digital experiences to the point of near-perfection (Tik-Tok and Instagram run on those algorithms). But maybe it’s time to rethink this perfection. Perhaps a bit of discomfort, a few opposing views, and a willingness to engage with different perspectives are exactly what we need to prevent ourselves from becoming too set in our ways.

The future, after all, is as much about how we see it as it is about how we shape it.