The Computers of Star Trek (14 page)

We suspect the creators of
Star Trek
may have felt that making the computer too powerful might worry their audience. Just as with space battles and space navigation, people prefer to think that they, not machines, are still in charge. After all, it's only a small step from AI to some equivalent of Kirk's computer nemesis, Landru, controlling a world—in ways that are more sophisticated but no less insidious. In the real future, three centuries from now, we suspect that the computers will be running the starships, and the crew, if present at all, will be merely along for the ride. This is a vision of space travel totally rejected by
Star Trek
.

In “Inheritance” (
TNG
), the
Enterprise-D
travels to the Altrean star system to help scientists infuse energy into an unstable planet core. (What? Never mind. We're computer scientists, not geophysicists.) While working on the project, Data meets Dr. Juliana Tainer, who reveals that she was once married to Noonien Soong, Data's creator. Having worked with Soong on Data's creation; Tainer is in effect his mother.

Data initially is suspicious of Tainer, but eventually he believes her story. She knows too much about his past and how he was created. Yet when they perform together in a concert, Data's suspicions increase.

What makes Data suspicious of Tainer? She plays her piece in the concert perfectly. Exactly the same as when they practiced earlier. No human musician, no matter how well trained, is capable of duplicating a performance note for note, nuance for nuance. Dr. Tainer performs with precise pitch and intonation. Only a robot or android can achieve such exactness.

In addition, no two musicians play identical renditions of a classical piece. Interpretations vary widely, depending on a performer's personality, state of mind, and physical health, as well as the influences of specific teachers. An excellent musician does far
more than play the right notes at the right speed. Data deduces that Dr. Tainer is an android because she performs as he does on his violin, with absolute precision and absolutely no human substance. In a sense, music is one of the things that makes Data more and less than human.

Data is perhaps the most fascinating creation in the entire
Star Trek
universe. We know more about him than just about any other character featured in the shows. In the best tradition of science fiction, Data's adventures explore what it means to be human. In addition, Data provides an excellent look at the future of artificial intelligence and robotics research.

Data is a far cry from the human-dominating androids of the Kirk episodes. Despite his stereotypical android mannerisms
^*
, he has very human qualities, all of them positive. He's kinder than almost anyone we know. He's gentle and sweet, decisive and firm. He doesn't lie. He's one of the most lovable characters from any
Trek
series. It's easy to understand why Geordi considers Data his best friend. If the computers of the original series were all either stupid and servile or controlling and dangerous, Data represents a departure: a genuinely utopian vision of the ideal computer. He's extraordinarily powerful yet completely unthreatening. That the show's creators can invent a Data, and the audience can embrace him, says a great deal about how much our views of computers have changed in a generation.

Is Data possible based on research being done right now? Will he be possible in fifty years? Three hundred? Or is Data pure television, a creation mirroring our hopes and dreams, but physically impossible?

Since we're considering perhaps the most complex single machine in the entire Federation, the answer is also complicated.

In “Inheritance,” Data plays a violin. This is not an activity we normally associate with artificial beings. Still, we've seen Data's hands move across the computer keyboard with inhuman speed. While no one's comparing typing with playing a violin, the motor skills involved are quite similar. Both require precise finger movements in a specific order. Though moving a bow requires hand and arm coordination as well, Data often types with one hand while doing other tasks at the same time. He enters commands into the keyboard with the same exactness with which he plays the violin. Both operations require skill, but neither depend on emotions.

Data, who constantly strives to appear human, expresses various emotions on his face as he plays the violin. But these expressions are no more than animatronic reactions designed specifically to appeal to his audience. As an android, he's incapable of playing with spontaneity and feeling.

A machine playing a musical instrument? Impossible—unless you've listened to player pianos, mechanized violins, or orchestrions; specialized devices built to duplicate the motions made by human operators using such instruments. Still, they're a far cry from Data bowing a Prokofiev violin sonata.

Data needs fingers capable of the most delicate, sophisticated motions made by any human. Fortunately, being robotic, once he performs the task a single time, he can duplicate it, following the exact sequence of actions. Once taught a sequence of dance steps, Data performs them perfectly from then on. His only problem is
modifying the routine or creating a new pattern. The same applies to painting. He can perfectly copy numerous masterpieces but creating his own composition is a much more difficult task. While creating mechanical fingers capable of such precise movement seems impossible, it's not dream stuff. We're already entering the robotic age.

Robots have been used in factory assembly lines for years. One difference between them and their science-fiction counterparts is that real robots don't look like people. There's no reason for them to have two arms and two legs. Built to perform specific jobs, they often use multiple arms, are firmly rooted to the factory floor, and use a variety of heat and magnetic scanners.

NASA has been one of the leading developers of robots during the past few decades. It's a lot cheaper and safer to send robots on long space missions than humans. Instead of a manned flight to Mars, which would have taken decades to prepare and launch, we had
Sojourner,
the
Mars Pathfinder
robot, walking across the sands of the red planet. An interesting aspect of
Sojourner
was its use of shape-memory alloys to perform certain scientific experiments. These unique metals exhibit large changes in shape when heated or chilled. In
Sojourner,
SMAs created motion. Invented by Geoffrey Landis and Phillip Jenkins of NASA, SMAs rely on Flexinol “Muscle Wire” (1.2-inches long by .006-inches thick, with a breaking strength stronger than stainless steel) to provide a force capable of lifting over 11 ounces.
¹

Three hundred years from now, an advanced form of “muscle wire” could allow Data's body to operate with flawless perfection. Most likely, Data's version of muscle wire will be made from microscopic components. In a world of nanotechnology, invisible computers will create invisible gears, levers, cables, and beams that perform instructions issued by invisible processors.

For example, here's a possible scenario. Data's positronic brain” executes the stored routine for a favorite concerto. The routine issues commands to his nanotechnology gears and levers—the invisible components that make his arms and fingers move. A command to play a B-flat results in his left finger pressing the violin string at the B-flat position and his right arm moving the bow across the correct string. This is the kind of thing we see in “Inheritance.”

Think of Data as an advanced form of digital music player. There will be no need for an android in three hundred years to move a bow across a violin string. He can simply emit the music digitally, with all human interpretation built into his rendition. Indeed, he'll be able to play multiple renditions of the same piece, and even interpret a new piece as if he were a famous human musician. An android as sophisticated as Data will go even further in technique than the best human violinist. He'll be able to merge the styles of the finest human violinists and emit music that reaches new heights.

Perhaps Data's fingers will move on the instrument and perhaps his right arm will move the bow, but we doubt it. The only reason for these fake movements by an android is for show, that is, to fool a human audience into believing that the android is playing the violin. The crew knows that Data is an android, and there's no way to fool them into believing that he's anything else.

Like other facets of
Star Trek
, Data's technology represents part of what's happening today but doesn't make the leap to tomorrow.

The robots that helped clean Three Mile Island were not the least bit humanoid, but they performed tasks impossible for humans.
Strangely enough, such servo machines are nearly nonexistent on
Star Trek
. Humans do all the dangerous work. Data is the only functioning robot, and except for his odd skin color and somewhat unusual notions, he could be mistaken for a man.

The technology used by NASA and other robot manufacturers is already filtering into everyday life. Super micro, remote control servo motors are available to independent robot makers for constructing robotic hands with dexterous fingers. These same servo motors allow experimenters to build small walking robots. Hobbyists can buy mini-serial-servo controllers that handle 64 remote control servos at one time. The software associated with the controllers is easily linked to a computer and, depending on disk space, can record and program billions of moves. If run by a positronic brain with unlimited storage and FTL processing (we take these elements as givens, though as noted in Chapter 2, they're somewhat ludicrous), that's more than enough motions for Data to play the violin flawlessly or do just about any other task.

Even the simplest human action, such as walking, turning, or holding a pencil, requires the coordinated effort of hundreds of muscles and reflexes, all controlled by the brain. More complex tasks need thousands of actions. Creating a robot capable of duplicating human activity once seemed an unattainable goal. But with the incredible leaps in computer memory and CPU speed, what once appeared impossible is fast becoming probable.

Data can produce twenty-three paintings in six hours and twenty-seven minutes. He uses both hands, one brush in each, to create two paintings at a time (“Birthright, Part 1,”
TNG
). He simultaneously listens to and absorbs more than one hundred and fifty classical music compositions (“A Matter of Time,”
TNG
). Using “the Fourier system,” his eyes appear to have random blinking patterns.

Data's body resembles that of an adult human male. As we learn in “The Most Toys” and “Disaster,” it's composed primarily of nonconductive
tripolymer composites and molybdenum-cobalt alloys. Combining this nearly indestructible skeleton with powerful microscopic motors and a muscular system using “muscle wire” makes him incredibly strong; in “Power Play” (
TNG
), Data puts one hand around Captain Picard's neck and lifts him completely off the floor. He exhibits similar feats of strength in a number of
Next Generation
adventures. Still, why doesn't he use his strength to help his human shipmates more often? Perhaps only for aesthetic reasons: the special effects involved might look too corny.

Data contains a functioning respiratory system, though he has no need to breathe. He uses it primarily for thermal regulation (“Brothers” and “Birthright, Part 1,”
TNG
), implying that it serves as his system fan. Indeed, Data claims that he can function for extended periods inside a vacuum. Yet Data seems to breathe like any ordinary human—his nose isn't huge, he doesn't suck large amounts of air into his mouth or through his ears. When he's in very hot environments, the amount of air brought into his body through his nostrils probably wouldn't suffice to keep him cool. A sophisticated computer today requires steady, cool temperatures to function without system error. If you have a machine with multiple processors and powerful disk drives, you need fan ammunition inside your tower. Data's brain is more than a multiple processor, and his body contains unknown yet advanced equipment: certainly, Data requires a highly controlled system temperature.

He does indicate, in “Disaster” (
TNG
), that a power surge of half a million amps would cause a system failure in his internal processors and a meltdown of his primary power couplings. Half a million amps is a huge amount of current.

The word amp is short for amperes, which is the number of electrons moving past a point within one second. One ampere of current implies the flow of 6,243 quadrillion electrons per second. Force, which is measured in volts, is the pressure difference
between two points. Without a pressure difference in a circuit, current doesn't flow. Here's a very simplified view of this idea: