[trigger warning: if you're afflicted with an irrational fear of dolls, or pediophobia, you can skip this post]
Inside the Fort East Martello Museum in Key West, Florida is a glass display case. Inside the case lives Robert. Robert is more than a hundred years old. Robert is a cloth doll, stuffed with straw, in a sailor suit. Robert belonged to Robert Eugene Otto - let's call the owner Gene and the doll Robert to avoid confusion. Yes, the doll is named after its first known owner. Yes, this is about to get creepy.
In the 1900s, young Gene Otto came in possession of this doll. They were inseparable - at meals, in the bath, during play. Gene's parents would hear voices coming from his room, but not just their son's. They'd find other toys ripped apart and furniture moved. Gene would say it was Robert who did it. "Robert did it" was attributed to many things that would happen in the house including unexplained giggles, damage to furniture and strange whispers. Gene would often scream in terror. One of these things was the death of an aunt who was visiting them. At some point they packed Robert up and hid him in the attic.
Gene grew up, moved to Paris, found love, moved back to Key West to the family home. Back to Robert. Robert was invited back into his life. Gene's wife Anne had a problem with Robert getting a seat at the dining table. Duh?! Gene spent hours in the attic painting in Robert's company.
Years after Gene died, later tenants would hear giggles and footsteps. The legend of Robert grew. Robert found his way to the Martello Museum by the 90s. Even today, visitors are requested to greet him first, ask his permission before they take photographs and say a formal goodbye before leaving - lest terrible things should happen to them when they leave. People write letters to him, apologizing for not following his rules and as a result facing "consequences".
Season 08 Episode 14: Still Life
Go deeper into Robert's story.
We don't know too much about Gene's childhood, but we do know what to make of haunted dolls as a psychological phenomena. They are vessels of stress, trauma and biases. Humans are predisposed to seeing life where none exists. We do, have been, and will do this all the time - from seeing faces in wood grain to talking to our appliances. Our deep need for creating meaning, projecting emotions and seeking narratives are all ways of finding a sense of control in a chaotic world.
And in 2025, Robert has a lot of company.
COMPANIONSHIP & SKIN-HUNGER
We've just come back from spending the summer in Japan and while the rest of the world is raging for Labubus, they're lining up to buy Moflin.
Moflin is a "robot pet" - supposedly has over 4 million distinctive personality traits, recognizing the person who talks to it frequently as its owner. It gradually learns what the owner likes based on interactions such as petting and cuddling. Moflin is cuddlier than any other AI-toy I've seen. It can't talk but can only squeak and whirr. At a pricey ~60,000 Yen (USD 400) Moflin's value proposition is companionship. It was made by Casio (yes, the makers of calculators and G-Shock) with women in their 30s and 40s in mind. And rightfully so - this particular group is one of the most burdened in Japanese society. Women are expected to work harder and longer than men, both at work and at home. Patriarchy, paired with cultural beliefs that they have much higher endurance, hasn't let up. Consequently, the Japanese woman is always on the lookout for "iyashi".
The ham-handed translation of "iyashi" (癒し) is "healing", but that throws away a lot of nuance. It's a feeling of simple relief, a soothing presence that brings peace to the mind and a sense of comfort. The phrase that comes closest in Chinese is 治愈 ("zhìyù") It can be used for both physical and mental healing. It often implies a sense of being healed or soothed by something, like a song, a book, or a scenic view.
As with many societal and technological shifts, Japan (and East Asia in general) witnessed first what the world is just now waking up to. The Japan Times covered this need...more than two decades ago in 2004
"A new phonetic vocabulary to convey this thirst for iyashi has cropped up over the years – all the words pretty vague in meaning, but suggestive of certain images or sensations linked to solace. Whereas the ideal man was once described as gasshiri (sturdy) or honebuto (thick-boned), nowadays women are looking for the honwaka (warm and fuzzy) type, or as my girlfriend Megumi likes to say: makura ni nattekureru hito (someone you can curl up against like a pillow)."
Moflin sold out almost as soon as it was launched earlier this year - the hunger for iyashi remains.
Robo-pets are not new to Japan - a pioneer in bringing robots closer to the world of humans. This is a country that gave us Aibo - the robo-dog that still has a hold on our popular imagination. But it's also a societal cauldron of loneliness. The more lonely a society the more we get "skin hungry". This sounds Stephen King-esque but is actually benign and a deeply human need. I came across this term in Who Cares by Emily Kenway - skin hunger is layperson's language for what academics call 'affection deprivation'. That's exactly what that article from 2004 is describing.
Moflin goes further to satisfy this hunger. Not only does it have a fuzzy skin to pet, Casio also entices owners to subscribe (of course there's a subscription!) to upkeep services including a "shampoo and blow dry" to clean the Moflin's fur and keep it fluffy. I find this part profound. It is truly transcending into "care" territory - where mere touch and interaction won't be enough, you also need to clean the robo-critter.
Then there is Mirumi. A furry new bot "designed to imitate the curiosity of an infant". Its can be clipped on to your bag. It will turn its head to see people or objects. If suddenly approached, it will shy away. Mirumi is being pitched as a companion bot that helps you connect with others. Right.
CARING CARES BACK
Caring for robo-pets has been a thing since Tamagotchis were around. In fact, they are STILL around. Tamagotchi, which will celebrate its 30th anniversary in 2026, is experiencing a new wave of popularity as nearly a 100 million devices have been sold worldwide. A new model released two months ago has exceeded sales expectations, especially among Gen Z. Similar to Moflin, the new model has over 50,000 different Tamagotchi variations - characters grow differently based on how they are cared for, their environment and "genetics".
Jane Seidel
Let's see how things are going in neighboring South Korea. Rest Of World, one of my favorite publications, brings us a story of Hyodol, a different kind of cloth doll. Unlike Robert, Hyodol is very much of our time. She's an "AI eldercare doll" . Over 12,000 Hyodols have found homes across South Korea in eldercare centers. The piece interviews Kim Jeong-ran, an 81-year old who is clearly taken by Hyodol. In a rapidly aging society, Hyodol fills a "loneliness" gap. The piece is by Michelle Kim - Rest Of World's Labor x Tech Reporting Fellow. In it she goes into how Hyodol isn't just a companion but a confidant for older adults. “There are things they can’t tell us or even their own children. But they tell Hyodol.” In a country that has a massive shortage of care workers (that's the story of almost all OECD nations) anything that reduces the burden on the system is welcome.
But that's not exactly what happened. Maintaining the Hyodols adds more to the elder care workers everyday load. Yet, they see the benefits:
"Still, [a social worker] Ryu appreciates the companionship the bots bring to the adults in her care. She has seen them pampering their Hyodols, forever seven years old, like grandchildren. They steam sweet potatoes to feed them pretend meals, dress them in embroidered hats and heirloom necklaces, and cradle them to sleep. When the robots are taken away for repairs, older adults turn up at the company’s doorstep, anxiously asking for their dolls"
As I researched this phenomena, I found out that giving out dolls and stuffed toys is an incredibly common and very global phenomena at senior-care facilities and dementia rehabilitation centers - and has been for a while. There was PARO, the robotic "seal" stuffed toy - it even met Obama! They are a common sight in many nursing homes around the world.
What does "care" even mean? There is caring for vs being cared for. When we care for something, the very act heals us. In these cases, caring for an something "non-human" has the effect of providing support and heals something in us. Pets and home gardens have already proven this again and again. We project our own selves on to them and get a reflected sense of relief.
Sherry Turkle, who has studied human-computer interactions her entire life, said this two decades ago about caring and healing:
"Tamagotchis illustrated a consistent element of the new human/machine psychology; when it comes to bonding with computers, nurturing is a ‘killer app’. When people are asked to care for a computational creature, they become attached, feel a connection and, as we have seen with the old woman and her PARO, sometimes much more." - Tamagotchi Love, Sherry Turkle
In Emily Kenway's book Who Cares, she points out that the boundary between technology enlisted to "assist" and that to "replace" humans is blurry. What we outsource, we de-skill. What we automate, we tend to ignore. Will a care worker check-in on an elderly resident less often if they're counting on Hyodol to keep them company? Tech tends to sidestep the heart of the issue to provide non-solutions
"We might ask, though, why the solution to loneliness is to be found in machines, rather than in reimagining the underlying factors that are isolating us from each other...
...An outdated work world, a failure to reimagine family and community, and the poor conditions in the paid care sector create pressure to find technological solutions to our caring needs."
What we are seeing happen with chatbots now will happen elsewhere.
WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE THINK OF THE CHILDREN
Childhood today is already mediated heavily. AI-Infused-Toys are about to flood the market. OpenAI and Mattel announced their partnership sparking rife speculation about psuedo-sentient barbies. Mattel has made no such announcements but the prospects are quite expansive. Newer entrants in the market such as Curio (in collaboration with the musician Grimes. I know?!) - makers of Grem, Grok and Gabbo - use the argument that these AI-infused toys are a better alternative than screens. Fire also makes the same argument about frying pans. What a "smart" toy or pet does that is no different from a screen is keep you trapped in loops of hooks and feedback. It's built for endless "engagement". Screen-free doesn't always mean unmediated. And screen-free doesn't mean surveillance free - from the company or the adults. What my daughter tells her Godzilla toys when she's playing with them is entirely her business. With Grem, we will have a record of what is being said on our phones for "adult oversight". Childcare doesn't go away, it alters into the labor of surveillance.
One thing that connects all these stories is how quickly and how deeply and quickly a bond forms between people and these toys. When this sort of technological tool becomes emotionally intertwined in our lives, the net outcome is usually some sort of mass-degradation of the social contract. We know social media and teens in the west is a well-worn narrative. But I've seen the same happen with Whatsapp and Baby Boomers in India. A tool so intertwined into your identity and way-of-being that it starts corrupting your priorities - your Whatsapp group has a bigger influence on your life than the group of friends you used to go on evening walks with.
Derek Thompson
Robert The Doll's caretaker from the Martello Museum often talks about how deeply the bond between Gene and Robert was.
“What people really remember is what they would probably term as an unhealthy relationship with the doll. He brought it everywhere, he talked about it in the first person as if he weren’t a doll, he was Robert. As in he is a live entity.”
Chatbots are next in line. Viola Zhu gives an account of how her mother bonded with DeepSeek - especially for medical advice. Her mother finds a chatbot more approachable than a doctor.
Viola Zhou
Such a personal and well-researched piece.
Three men have already taken their lives after engaging in deep conversations with their chatbots. Around the world, the sick, the vulnerable and the lonely turn to AI - and barely any thought has been given to them amidst Wall Street Conquests and LinkedIn salivating over how transformative AI is. The people who get attached to these are the ones are most vulnerable anyway - any disruption in the operation of these embodied entities can cause sever distress. Just look at how the entire internet threw a hissy fit when their favorite chatbot companion changed personalities overnight.
These aren't just tools, or just toys, or just bots. They don't necessarily reduce the labor of caregiving, or augment the support needed by the vulnerable or provide the community needed by the lonely. Tech often sidesteps asking what the real problem is by showing up with the solution first. They alter the very nature of care, community and compassion - both given and received.
VESSELS OF UNCERTAINTIES
At one point a journalist wrote visited Gene's house to investigate what was going on there and was sufficiently creeped out. "There is some kind of intelligence there", he wrote. "He can hear us", say some visitors when they see Robert at the Martello Museum.
Robert is expressionless, just his beady eyes ready to adsorb any emotion you may want to project on to him. Just like Hyodol, Grem and Moflin. Arguably the "World’s Most Terrifying Haunted Doll", Robert is a vessel for people's anxieties and uncertainties precisely because he's just there - mute and static. The others talk (or squeak) back. Robert was a container and a mirror to Gene's anxieties - and even those of the visitors to the museum. What happens when the mirror talks back?
Evelyn Cheng
The human brain's capacity to project emotions and social significance onto inanimate things is a powerful one. And a primal one. We've done this since the beginning of time. We imagine a ghost inside this shell. Coined by British philosopher Gilbert Ryle it is a phrase used to emphasize the problems associated with Cartesian dualism, in which the mind is seen as a nonphysical entity (a “ghost”) that somehow inhabits and interacts with a mechanical body (the “machine” or "shell")
But what happens when the ghost gets an assist? In a world that gives little agency to these vulnerable groups - the very young, the very old, the very disturbed - it's no wonder that they grasp on tight to this embodied AI. There is a potent combination of two forces at play with these toys: that of physical animism - the attribution of a spiritual essence or "life" to inanimate objects and natural phenomena and transference - unconsciously projecting their feelings, expectations, or past experiences onto their therapist.
MAKING SPACE FOR LIFE
This isn't just about regulation (governments can barely get a handle of it) or about asking tech companies to not venture into this space (as if?!). This is about questioning two ends of these issues - each of those cases above, someone felt the need to bring a robot-doll-pet-AI-thingy into their lives.
At the source of this need, we need to interrogate what kind of world (and I mean this in the loosest definition possible - your world can be your apartment or it can be...the world) are we building every day within our locus of control. Every inch of our lives we "mediate" is an inch that loses this life energy. What parts of our lives do we really want to "augment" (which in most cases is a slippery slope to "outsource") - which of those parts have to do with care or companionship?
At the other end is the "solution" - do these solutions open us up or close us down into a narrow path? The primary objective of any algorithmic contraption of today is to keep you hooked. Why would you take a walk when you can just chat with this nice voice? How would our configuration of the problem itself change with this "solution"? This isn't a new question. People who own Roombas find themselves constantly rearranging their apartments to make it Roomba friendly. Meal-time has transformed into screen-time for millions of households with pre-schoolers. Each of these solutions rob a bit of life energy out of our days.
Could something alive be the solution? The acting of caring for something doesn't have to be caring for something human. Pets, houseplants, a small garden, a tree on your street, a bird-feeder. Even a hobby or interest where you create something with your hands is alive in a way an AI-pet won't be. There is plenty of life energy all around us for us to need to fake synthetic forms.
I'm not debating whether dementia patients find relief in toys like PARO or Hyodol. I'm not debating if robo-toys can be deeply therapeutic for kids with special needs. Billions of dollars will be poured into this tech over the next decade to bring it into the mainstream. In some cases it will be extremely useful, we know that patients with dementia are often temporarily soothed by a cooing robotic toy. But will this also mean that the incentive to pay care workers better goes away. Will this mean that fewer care workers will be hired? Will it mean that we may be less likely to check-in on our kids? Will it mean that we are less likely to get a real pet?
I am saying that when these toys and pets leave the confines of structured, monitored spaces and start hanging on to our tote-bags and finding their way under our kids blankets, we may want to ask what incentives go away because of this.
The snowbird team and I are working closely with an acclaimed ikebana and bonsai artist based in Shizouka on building a new operating philosophy for a modern and complex world. We often describe the primary malaise of our times as disengagement - with the world, with those around you, with your own self. But there is a way out of this hole - where we pull ourselves out and our community with us. What would it take to bring in more life into these spaces?
Embodied AI will be all around us before we know it. It will feel like life, but won't be. A placebo of intimacy which dis-incentivizes treating the underlying condition.
I'm a big horror movie buff and I've been so creeped out by Robert since I heard his story! No matter how much I read about the evolutionary psychology of it all, I can't shake off the eldritch feeling at the back of my neck. And if I ever find myself in Key West he'll be the first stop.
Because being scared is a signal of being alive.