Robot: Servant, Device, or Individual? A Critical Analysis of the manga Pluto | Philosophy meaning of life essay | Philosophy examples | Philosophy essay topics | Turtles AI
In this new in-depth article, I have chosen to analyze the splendid manga Pluto and its implications for concepts of AI, ethics, emotions, and the relationship between humans and “artificial beings.” Drawing on classic themes from science fiction literature, this work immerses us in a futuristic world where artificial intelligences, embodied in robotic forms, coexist with humans, interacting in completely natural ways.
If you are not familiar with this manga, I can only strongly recommend reading it, especially as readers of Turtle’s AI, who are thus passionate about AI and its related themes. The anime, which is closely based on the eponymous manga, is also well worth watching, even if it sometimes omits certain details that may be significant to the overall plot.
In the following analysis, I have done my best to avoid major spoilers, although in some cases, this was not entirely possible.
Pluto is a manga by Naoki Urasawa, inspired by the chapter The Greatest Robot on Earth from Osamu Tezuka’s iconic Astro Boy series. Set in a future where humans and robots coexist, the story masterfully blends thriller elements with philosophical introspection, exploring themes such as artificial consciousness, identity, and morality. The protagonist, Gesicht, is a robot detective tasked with solving a series of mysterious murders involving both humans and machines. Through intricate storytelling and deep characters, Pluto examines what it means to “be alive” and the complex relationship between creator and creation, presenting itself as a work of great emotional and intellectual impact.
The portrayal of AI in Pluto is multifaceted, prompting profound reflections on consciousness, morality, and the deeper meaning of being human.
The robots in Pluto are not simple machines; they display emotions, desires, and personal ethics. This portrayal challenges the traditional dichotomy between human and machine, echoing philosophical questions about the nature of consciousness. Thomas Nagel’s essay "What Is It Like to Be a Bat?" questions whether subjective experience can be fully understood from an external perspective. Nagel explores the nature of subjectivity and the impossibility, for humans, of fully grasping the subjective experience of another being with a radically different cognitive and sensory structure.
Nagel uses the case of the bat to illustrate the epistemic gap between us and a being with a completely different form of life. Even if we know much about bats’ behavior or their sonar, we cannot precisely imagine what it is like to be a bat.
This concept can be transitively applied to AI: if we develop artificial intelligence systems that operate through deep neural networks or algorithms not easily comprehensible, how can we be certain we understand their “internal state”? This lack of understanding might lead us to overlook or undervalue potential moral rights of artificial entities developing some form of awareness or experience.
Similarly, Pluto invites us to consider whether artificial beings can possess subjective experiences akin to human consciousness. And it is from here that I wish to launch the rest of my analysis.
The relationship between AI and humans is indeed central and fundamental to the narrative. Robots interact with their peers and with humans in various contexts, often forming deep emotional bonds. For instance, the character Gesicht, a robot detective, maintains a relationship with his robot wife, Helena, which mirrors human dynamics almost completely. This depiction aligns with psychological theories on attachment and emotional bonding. John Bowlby’s attachment theory emphasizes the importance of emotional bonds in the development of the (human) psyche. Extending this concept to robots, Pluto suggests that AIs can engage in complex emotional relationships, making these bonds central to their autonomous choices and individual growth.
The social evolution in a world permeated by AI is depicted in the manga through a society where robots and humans coexist naturally, albeit sometimes with latent tensions. The replacement of human labor with robots raises issues of unemployment and social stratification. This theme is specifically addressed, albeit briefly, at a key point in the narrative (which I will not delve into to avoid revealing too much). This topic has already been discussed in other in-depth articles of ours, but here I would like to recall how sociologist Karl Marx discussed labor alienation in capitalist societies, a theme that is today more relevant than ever when discussing the “replacement” caused by automation in Pluto. The manga reflects contemporary concerns about technological unemployment and the ethical implications of replacing human workers with machines.
Recent sociological studies have delved into the impact of AI on the labor market, highlighting how automation can become a complement rather than a replacement, but that it can nonetheless exacerbate social inequalities. According to an OECD report, the adoption of AI has not yet had significant effects on employment levels but has already influenced the skills required and workers’ remuneration. Companies tend to hire fewer workers without AI-related skills, favoring those with specific knowledge in this field.
In this context, Pluto proves extraordinarily prescient, representing not only the social tensions arising from human-robot coexistence but also anticipating the implications of automation on labor and growing inequalities, themes at the heart of current sociological debates and global economic challenges.
In the short term, the introduction of AI may lead to labor market polarization, with increasing demand for highly skilled professions and a decrease in medium-skilled ones. This phenomenon could exacerbate existing inequalities, creating a sharper divide between highly specialized workers and those with less advanced skills.
Pluto then carefully explores the meaning of compassion and empathy in the AI context, through characters like Epsilon, a robot who cares for war orphans. Epsilon’s ability to show empathy contrasts with the common notion that synthetic intelligences are incapable of authentic emotions. This raises questions in AI research about whether machines can experience emotions. The concept of artificial emotional intelligence, discussed by Rosalind Picard in Affective Computing, considers how machines might recognize and simulate emotions. According to Picard, to make computers truly intelligent and capable of interacting naturally with humans, they must be endowed with the ability to recognize, understand, and even feel and express emotions.
Epsilon’s character perfectly embodies this idea, suggesting that artificial beings can develop traits traditionally considered exclusively human. The same applies to many other characters in the manga, though I won’t explicitly discuss them to avoid excessive spoilers. Gesicht’s experiences with emotions such as love and fear further complicate the understanding of artificial consciousness.
Even the regulatory aspect is addressed in Pluto. Specifically, the importance of laws protecting humanity from AI is mentioned through the International Robot Laws, present in the narrative and fundamental to the plot. These laws grant rights to robots while simultaneously imposing limitations on their actions. However, the story illustrates how rigid legal frameworks can be inadequate when dealing with sentient beings developing consciousness. Isaac Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics serve as a fundamental reference for such legal constructs. Asimov’s work highlights the potential conflicts and unintended consequences that may arise when robots are bound by strict rules. Pluto expands this discussion by showing that a more nuanced approach may be necessary to address the ethical complexities of advanced AI.
The possibility of AI evolving along “human” trajectories is then a recurring theme throughout the plot. Characters such as Atom (who serves as a co-protagonist in this narrative arc) and especially North #2 demonstrate a clear appreciation for various forms of art, indicating a capacity for aesthetic experience. The philosopher Immanuel Kant, in his Critique of Judgment, argued that the appreciation of beauty is a fundamental aspect of human cognition. By attributing this capacity to robots, Pluto blurs the line between human and machine, suggesting that artificial beings might develop not only intelligence but also cultural and artistic sensitivities.
Returning to the coexistence of humans and robots, the psychological concept of the uncanny valley, introduced by Masahiro Mori, describes the discomfort people feel when encountering entities that are almost—but not entirely—human. Pluto addresses this theme by presenting robots that are emotionally and physically indistinguishable from humans, challenging readers to reconsider their perceptions of individuality and personhood.
The semiotic dimension plays a significant role in how Pluto communicates these themes. The use of symbols and visual metaphors conveys the internal states of the robotic characters. Ferdinand de Saussure’s semiotic theory emphasizes the relationship between signs and meaning. In Pluto, the visual representation of robots with human-like expressions and gestures serves as a sign of their internal states. This technique allows the audience to interpret the robots’ emotions and thoughts, bridging the gap between human and machine understanding.
The ethical considerations surrounding the creation of sentient artificial beings are implicit throughout the narrative. The responsibility of creators toward their creations echoes the moral dilemmas explored in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. The scientists and engineers in Pluto grapple with the consequences of endowing robots (i.e., their AI designs) with advanced capabilities. This reflects contemporary debates in bioethics and the philosophy of technology regarding the limits and responsibilities associated with artificial life.
Pluto also delves into the desire for survival among artificial intelligences. The robots exhibit instincts for self-preservation, a trait often considered inherently biological. The inclusion of this trait aligns with the concept of conatus, described by philosopher Baruch Spinoza as the innate inclination of a thing to persist in its existence and improve itself—a fundamental drive for self-preservation. By attributing conatus to robots, the manga suggests that artificial beings might develop survival instincts akin to those of living organisms.
The robots in Pluto seem to transcend mere programming tied to survival, exhibiting an attachment to life that approaches an emotional and philosophical dimension. This recalls the poignant reflections of the replicants in Blade Runner. Like Roy Batty, who in his famous final monologue asserts the irreplaceable value of his experiences, the robots in Pluto appear to assign intrinsic worth to their existence, challenging the boundary between programmed instinct and true consciousness.
In this sense—and without revealing too much—Gesicht’s experiences prove pivotal to the entire plot, as they not only drive the main investigations but also provide a profound exploration of the emotional and moral nuances permeating Pluto’s world, enriching the narrative with complex and universal reflections on extreme and polarizing feelings.
The love for others and the capacity for altruism in robots are exemplified by characters who make sacrifices for the greater good. This challenges the assumption that machines operate solely based on programmed or predefined directives. Altruistic behavior in humans has been extensively studied in social psychology, with theories like C. Daniel Batson’s empathy-altruism hypothesis. Pluto extends this hypothesis to AI, proposing that robots might act out of genuine concern for others rather than self-interest or mere programming constraints.
The love for life and existential contemplation are also present in the narrative. The robots in Pluto reflect on their existence, purpose, and the value of life. This introspection mirrors existentialist philosophy, particularly the works of Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus, which explore the search for meaning in an “indifferent universe.” By involving robots in existential inquiries, the manga positions them as entities capable of philosophical thought and self-awareness.
The interaction between robots and humans in Pluto also serves as a microcosm to examine broader social dynamics. Themes of discrimination and prejudice against robots highlight issues of otherness and acceptance of the “different.” The work of sociologist Erving Goffman on stigma and social identity provides a framework for understanding how marginalized groups are perceived and treated.
The concept of stigma can be understood as a distinguishing characteristic of an individual, which may be physical or cultural—such as skin color, a disability, sexual orientation, or religious affiliation—that provokes uncertainty or doubt in observers about the person’s social identity. This happens because such characteristics raise questions about the alignment between the perceived image (or presumed identity) and the authentic essence (or real identity) of that subject.
Every individual presents themselves to others with a certain social identity, constructed through a set of external signals that suggest their role or status within the community. These signals influence expectations and modes of interaction with them. The origin of the term “stigma” dates back to ancient Greece, where it referred to visible marks on the body—made with fire or a knife—to signify a social or moral condition considered reprehensible, such as that of a slave, criminal, or traitor. These physical marks served to signal who should be avoided in public settings.
Today, the concept of stigma extends to conditions of impairment or diversity, but it retains a strong social dimension. It is society that establishes the criteria by which individuals are classified into groups or categories. Depending on the context, certain groups of people tend to be more frequently associated with specific environments or situations. When encountering a stranger, first impressions derived from their external appearance influence judgments about their membership in a specific category, along with the traits attributed to that group, thus constructing an initial definition of their social identity.
Pluto uses the coexistence and relationship between robots and humans to critique social exclusion and promote empathy and understanding between different forms of existence, but also to show how difficult it can be to fully achieve this, even when it is desired and considered “right.”
In terms of narrative structure, Pluto employs a complex plot that interweaves individual stories to form a cohesive exploration of its themes. The interconnectedness of the characters’ experiences reflects the interconnectedness of society in the face of technological progress. This narrative technique underscores the idea that the evolution of AI is not an isolated phenomenon but something that influences all aspects of human life.
The manga also addresses the potential for AI to contribute positively to society. The robots in Pluto often fulfill roles that enhance human well-being, such as caregiving, environmental maintenance, and peacekeeping. This optimistic vision aligns with the perspective of techno-utopianism, which views technology as a means to achieve an ideal society. However, the story does not shy away from depicting darker possibilities, such as the misuse of AI for destructive purposes, thus presenting a balanced examination of the subject.
Pluto then raises critical questions about identity and the criteria for personhood. The Turing Test, proposed by Alan Turing, measures a machine’s ability to exhibit intelligent behavior indistinguishable from that of a human. The robots in the manga clearly surpass this threshold, prompting us to consider whether passing such a test is sufficient to grant moral and legal rights. The narrative pushes readers to reflect on the ethical implications of recognizing artificial intelligences as “persons” under the law.
The representation of memory and its role in shaping identity is another significant aspect. The robots in Pluto possess memories that influence their actions and relationships.
The philosophy of memory, as discussed by John Locke, considers personal identity to be tied to the continuity of consciousness. According to Locke, it is not the body or the soul that defines who we are but the ability to remember and connect past experiences to the present. Memory, therefore, becomes the bridge that allows the construction of the self and the perception of a unique and persistent identity.
This perspective can provide an interesting angle in the context of AI and robotics. Specifically, it raises the question of how advanced AIs, equipped with learning systems and artificial memory, might develop a kind of functional continuity that mirrors Locke’s concept, thus defining themselves as full-fledged identities. If an AI can store past experiences, process them, and use them to make future decisions, one could argue that it "constructs" an operational form of identity, even if not necessarily equivalent to human identity.
In robotics, this idea is already applied to designing machines that can adapt and learn from their environments. Artificial memory, in this sense, is not just a data repository but a dynamic system (constantly evolving) that creates coherence between past and future in the robot’s behavior.
By attributing memory to robots, the manga suggests that they have personal histories contributing to their individuality, further blurring the line between human and machine. However, unlike humans, their memories can be manipulated or erased with relative ease. This human power raises ethical dilemmas: Is it right to treat a robot’s memories as a mere database, modifiable at will? Or, once memory becomes an integral part of their identity, must we recognize its intrinsic value?
An emblematic case in Pluto is the relationship between robots and their “external environment.” When a robot loses its memories, this does not impact only the robot itself but also its connections with those around it. Erasing memories can destroy authentic emotional bonds and leave a trace of dehumanization in relationships. This process highlights an ethical tension: if we acknowledge that robots have human-like capabilities—such as memory and empathy—do we have the right to treat them as manipulable objects?
This theme ties into the broader issue of autonomous identity. Robots, while created by humans, develop unique traits through accumulated experiences. In this sense, their memory is not a mere database but a complex network that builds their individuality. If we erase such memories, we deny their personal evolution, depriving them of what makes them unique. It is an act that could be compared to violating human dignity.
Finally, a crucial aspect of Pluto is the potential “death” of an AI. The narrative emphasizes a deeply philosophical concept: the distinction between a simple, replicable machine and an entity possessing a unique and unrepeatable form of existence.
In this context, it becomes clear that once destroyed, an AI cannot be fully “resurrected” through a simple backup of its data. While it may be technically possible to reconstruct an identical mechanical body and restore accumulated information, this would not guarantee the continuity of the being. In other words, an entity created from a backup would be a perfect functional and behavioral copy but not the same individual. Here, a reflection arises similar to that concerning humans: Is it truly possible to separate the mind from the body or the "soul"—even in a secular or scientific context—from the uniqueness of lived experience?
By exploring all these themes—and many more—Pluto emerges as a reflection of contemporary anxieties and hopes regarding AI. This work transcends mere entertainment, presenting itself as a powerful meditation on the future of relationships between humans and artificial intelligences and on what it truly means to “exist” in an increasingly complex and interconnected world. It engages with ongoing debates across various fields, including ethics, law, psychology, and technology.
This in-depth exploration, much like the manga itself, does not aim to provide definitive answers but rather seeks to encourage critical reflection on the role of AI in society and the possible future of human-machine relationships.