CW: some links contain sexbot sites

The problem with sex robots isn’t that they exist. What people do in the privacy of their homes and beds is generally their business, and sexbots could be a good option for people who have suffered trauma or are agoraphobic, disabled, disfigured, anxious, or scared. However, sexbots don’t mirror the diversity of society, especially when it comes to desire. The sex tech industry, currently valued at $30 billion (and projected to be worth $50 billion by 2025) is like much of the tech world: dominated by men whose products reflect either their own desires or what they think other men desire. 

Roughly 70 percent of sex tech companies are run by men—a number that reflects a recent spate of women-owned businesses. The sexbot market, however, hasn’t seen a similar influx. Currently, none are led by women, and companies report that male customers comprise over 90 percent of their market. That leads to bots with massive breasts, impossibly tiny waists, long hair, painted nails, and makeup. 

In an interview with Wired, RealDoll CEO Matt McMullen says that “hypersexual bodies are simply what’s most popular with customers.” RealDoll allows users to customize their sexbots using 33 different models, most of which are white. Based on website photos, two appear Black, two appear Asian, and one or two seem designed to appear Latina; all of them play into heteronormative sex- and gender-related stereotypes. Customers then choose from the 17 different body types offered by RealDoll. Almost all of them have Barbie-sized proportions—such as the “Petite 4” model, which has a 32DD cup size, 22-inch waist, and  36-inch hips. None of the bodies are fuller-figured or disabled. The customization options reveal what RealDoll sees as customer priorities: red nail polish or pink? Clean-shaven or a landing strip? Do you want your sexbot to look like Stormy Daniels?

“The customization options reveal what RealDoll sees as customer priorities: red nail polish or pink? Clean-shaven or a landing strip?”

RealDoll is based in California, so they’re likely focused on a market that subscribes to Western standards of beauty. The same is true of Robot Companion and Smart Doll World’s offerings. The Spanish company Lumi Dolls sells a wider range of models, from “flat-chested” to “European” to “pregnant” (although that option winds up being a dead end on their site). Lumi Dolls provides bios for each bot, too, as though it’s a dating site. Those bios say things such as, “My name is Adriana. I am a Swedish 29 year old girl.” Mentioning nationality or ethnicity might seem like a way to promote diversity, but that effect is lost with bios like that of Jennifer from Brazil: “I have black long curly hair [...that] makes me look very exotic. I have a beautiful ethnic face.” 

Robot Companion, Smart Doll World, and RealDoll make sexbots that come with rudimentary artificial intelligence (AI), which allows them to move their heads, blink, and carry on limited conversations. The addition of AI allows for the semblance of a personality, offering new possibilities for companionship while also raising ethical questions. 

True Companion, the now-defunct company that invented Roxxxy the sex robot back in 2010, marketed a few different models, including “Mature Martha,” “Young Yoko,” and “Frigid Farrah,” which resists its user’s advances. The apparent promotion of rape fantasies galvanized the Campaign Against Sex Robots, which was founded in 2015 to oppose “products [that] further promote the objectification of the female body and as such constitute a further assault on human intimacy.” If assigning personalities to sexbots makes them more lifelike, then what does it mean for customers to continue to treat them like objects—or worse? 

Some sex robots objectify the male body as well. Fewer body types and customizations exist for these robots (although they do include penis size and style), and thus far, none have AI. In 2018, RealDoll announced the development of Henry, the first artificially intelligent male sexbot. Henry has a British accent, six-pack abs, and a “bionic penis,” and is programmed to listen, cuddle, and whisper sweet, supportive nothings. Is that what men imagine women want in a sexbot?

(Ironically, Henry was expected to hit the market in 2018: we’re still waiting.)

Nicole Prause, neuroscientist and founder of bio-sex tech company Liberos, says there are “strange constraints” on sex tech, especially when it comes to the effects on women. Prause has spoken to people in sex tech who “worry a development will cause women to become too ‘desirous’ and thus at risk for sexual assault.” In other words, better not make the male sexbots too good because women are a danger to themselves when they get worked up. It’s best to stay focused on ways to make men feel good. 

Perhaps, it’s progress that male sexbots are sometimes also marketed toward gay male customers? LumiDolls, the Spanish company that opened the world’s first robot brothel in Barcelona in 2017, sells Alessandro and Ken, who identify in their bios as a top and a bottom, respectively. They come in “white,” “natural,” or “tan,” which are really just three shades of the same light skin color. LumiDolls also markets Brooklyn (likewise available in white, natural, or tan) as a model for lesbians and couples looking for threesomes. RealDoll’s Harmony can be purchased with a “transgender converter” (a strap-on) for an extra $500; it comes in large or extra large, and only in one color. 

It’s too expensive to make sexbots that no one buys, so whoever raises and shells out the cash gets to pave the road. Sexbots might seem like a niche or a novelty now, but experts predict the use of robot prostitutes in places like Amsterdam, as well as marriages between humans and robots. Having a sexual preference for machines instead of humans—also known as technosexuality or “digisexuality”—is on the rise. Futurologist Ian Pearson believes that by 2050, having sex with robots will be more common than having sex with other people. Sexbots or AI companions could become as pervasive as porn, which means that in addition to being products of society, sex tech will also shape society.  

“If assigning personalities to sexbots makes them more lifelike, then what does it mean for customers to continue to treat them like objects—or worse?”

Until then, what media scholars Rebecca Hawkes and Cherie Lacey call the “fembot fantasy” will fill in gaps between fiction and what we expect to soon be fact. Sexualized feminine robots and AI appear in Her, Ex Machina, Westworld, Blade Runner, A.I., Battlestar Galactica, and even Austin Powers. Ethicist Blay Whitby argues that the constant representation of subordinate “fembots” as desirable partners creates a self-fulfilling prophecy: “futurologists, industrialists, and investors have already decided that you do indeed want something along these lines.” The more we see those depictions, the more we anticipate that future. 

Hawkes and Lacey argue that when fembots fail (or fail to live up to men’s expectations), it’s often because they’ve become too independent or sentient. Dolores and Maeve from Westworld go rogue, driven by vengeance and love. The operating system Samantha from Her falls in love with hundreds of people simultaneously. Ex Machina’s Ava lies, kills her creator, and strands the protagonist on an island. When these robots stop doing what their male creators or customers want them to do, they’re bad robots and bad women. Luckily, the sexbots on the market obey unconditionally.  

Still, there are reasons to be encouraged. Women-owned sex tech companies are on the rise, and some are revolutionizing the market with gender-neutral and gender-free sex toys and vibrators that don’t look like penises. When will a similar leap be made with sexbots, which currently represent an ironic juxtaposition between cutting-edge technology and the perpetuation of dehumanizing stereotypes? Little by little, we fight for—and win—acceptance and rights for humans with diverse bodies and desires. Perhaps one day the sexbot industry will make true progress and reflect that.

Image credit: Alicia Vikander as Ava in “Ex Machina.” Universal Pictures, 2014.