Mad About Science: The Uncanny Valley

By Brenden Bobby
Reader Columnist

Let’s be honest. There are two kinds of people in this world: people who collect porcelain dolls, and the rest of us. Have you ever wondered what it is about an ultra-realistic porcelain doll that’s so horrifying? Simply looking at their little faces evokes emotions of revulsion, uneasiness and terror. Movies like Child’s Play or M3GAN would not exist if it weren’t for these feelings many of us feel around lifelike dolls.

As a kid that grew up in a house that was stuffed to the brim with nightmare-inducing porcelain dolls staring soullessly at you anywhere you dared to tread, my perception of this matter may be heavily subjective.

There is a term for the feelings that arise from gazing into the lifeless eyes of a doll, robot or even a museum display: “the uncanny valley.”

The idea is that as an object becomes more human in appearance, we begin to feel more attached to it — up until a certain point. Suddenly, those feelings of familiarity sharply drop and our minds exhibit feelings of fear and revulsion. Strangely, at some point beyond that, these feelings return to levels where we feel as though we’re looking at another happy, healthy and attractive human being.

Defining the exact point of fall-off is difficult to quantify. There seem to be multiple contributing factors that make us feel the way we do. Let’s take a look at one of the most popular animated children’s movies of all time: 2013’s Frozen. The characters are very obviously designed to resemble humans in a non-threatening, somewhat realistic manner, yet they are very obviously animated. Their movements reflect the art style, as do the voices of the actors portraying them. All of these factors linked together make for an enjoyable movie, but if you were to alter any part of this formula, the entire thing risks falling apart.

Travel back just nine years earlier to look at another example: The Polar Express. The characters appear more representative of how humans look in real life, yet something is wrong. The movements are jerky and unrealistic, and the facial expressions of the characters aren’t reflective of the great acting being performed by the humans in the studio. There’s a strange and unsettling deadness to the eyes and expressions of every character on the screen. This is the uncanny valley at work.

Combatting the feelings evoked by this phenomenon is a current goal of the robotics industry. As a society, we are becoming increasingly reliant on computers, robots and artificial intelligence to keep our lives in order and running smoothly. Do you own a Roomba or know someone who does? Does the Roomba have a name? It’s a non-threatening device because it is distinctly a robot and not trying to emulate the appearance of a human in any way; yet, as humans, we feel a need to anthropomorphize it and make it a more relatable part of our family — similar to a pet.

Anthropomorphizing (that is, giving human traits to nonhuman things) is intrinsically linked to the effect of the uncanny valley. It’s how we attribute familiarity to things in our lives like domesticated animals, Roombas, cellphones and even our climate. Humans have been doing this for millennia, which you can see in ancient myths from virtually anywhere around the globe. Egyptian mythology in particular adds a tremendous amount of anthropomorphism to its tales, from talking crocodiles to dog-headed keepers of the Underworld.

So why does the uncanny valley even exist? It’s hard to say. Most of humans’ psychological functions are learned behaviors from millions of years of evolution and shared experiences, yet this is a relatively new phenomenon. Why is it that we fear something that looks human, but isn’t? Similarly, why do we try to make some things more human, but only up to a certain point?

There is likely no single answer. As with the example of a porcelain doll, the boundaries of the uncanny valley are deeply subjective and cannot be universally defined. More than anything, it is likely built upon a diverse number of advanced emotions and feelings, culminating into a weird human quirk.

Researchers have raised some interesting points while studying the uncanny valley, though no single point seems to be “right” on its own. One of the core ideas raised seems to be that our standard of identification changes once it crosses a certain threshold. Instead of judging something as a robot for trying to impersonate a human, our minds start thinking of that thing as a human trying — and failing — to adapt to social norms. Another peculiar point is that our brains process these things as we would when seeing a human corpse, which could explain the feelings of uneasiness around them.

It’s likely that these processes developed intentionally when seeing corpses as an instinctual cue for us to avoid things like disease or danger, and the fact that it translates into 3-D animation and robotics is just an unfortunate side effect of that.

Of course, that’s not a definitive answer, but it’s the best that I’ve got.

What do you think? Are you a doll person? Is Robert Zemeckis your favorite director? Have you ever even thought about this wacky subject before in your life? At the very least, you now have something new to talk about at the bar.

Stay curious, 7B.