An Android is similar to a robot, but it's made more imitating a human.
The play was the result of collaboration between a robotics researcher and a theater director.
The play questions asks the audience;
"Do we really distinguish whether or not other people have a mind?"
If you speak to the carefully programmed android and she responded perfectly, you would feel as if she truly has a mind and feelings. The idea makes me notice the following.
A Mind is invisible, no one can take it out and shows others. How do we know others have feelings? We just know it through other people's response. For instance, when something unpleasant happens, they might get upset. We never see the mind itself, we just see the response. This implies that if an android is able to make absolutely perfect responses, we have to call the response a "mind". Who can tell the the difference between a true mind and its response (besides a telepathist?)?
If the human's mind is called mind, the androids' response must be called that as well, because they are perceptually the same.
When we can't tell apart an android's and a human's response, we can also no longer say the difference between the one who has a mind and the one who doesn't have a mind, because we just suppose that a mind exists.
Furthermore, this notion poses another question;
"Do I have a mind?"
Even if nobody proves the existence of a mind, I know I have a mind.
However, what exactly composes the thing we call "the mind"?
Is the mind an accumulation of memory?
Do I just follow the memory in my head?
The play was so thought-provoking.
EmoticonEmoticon