Category: Technology

Human flesh is weak, and metal is strong. So, it is no surprise that military science fiction includes cyborg soldiers. An example of a minor cybernetic is an implanted radio. The most extreme example would be a full body conversion: the brain is removed from the original body and placed in a mechanical body. This body might look like a human (known as a Gemini full conversion in Cyberpunk) or be a vehicle such as a tank, as in Keith Laumer’s A Plague of Demons.

An obvious moral concern with cybernetics is the involuntary “upgrading” of soldiers, such as the sort practiced by the Cybermen of Doctor Who. While important, the issue of involuntary augmentation is not unique to cybernetics and was addressed in the second essay in this series. For the sake of this essay, it will be assumed that the soldiers volunteer for their cybernetics and are not coerced or deceived. This then shifts moral concern to the ethics of the cybernetics themselves.

While the ethics of cybernetics is complicated, one way to handle matters is to split cybernetics into two broad categories. The first category consists of restorative cybernetics. The second consists of enhancement cybernetics.

Restorative cybernetics are devices used to restore normal functions to a wounded soldier. Examples would include cyberoptics (replacement eyes), cyberlimbs (replacements legs and arms), and cyberorgans (such as an artificial heart). Soldiers are already being fitted with such devices, although by the standards of science fiction they are very primitive. Given that these devices merely restore functionality and the ethics of prosthetics and similar replacements are well established, there is no moral concern about using such technology in a medical role. In fact, it could be argued that nations have a moral obligation to use such technology to restore their wounded soldiers.

While enhancement cybernetics might be used to restore functionality to a wounded soldier, enhancement cybernetics goes beyond mere restoration. By definition, they are intended to improve on the original. These enhancements break down into two main classes. The first class consists of replacement cybernetics. These devices require the removal of the original part (be it an eye, limb or organ) and serve as replacements that improve on the original in some manner. For example, cyberoptics could provide a soldier with night vision, telescopic visions and immunity to being blinded by flares and flashes. As another example, cybernetic limbs could provide greater speed, strength and endurance. And, of course, a full conversion could provide a soldier with a vast array of superhuman abilities.

The obvious moral concern with these devices is that they require the removal of the original organic parts, something that certainly seems problematic, even if they do offer enhanced abilities. This could, of course, be offset if the original parts were preserved and restored when the soldier left the service. There is also the concern raised in science fiction about the mental effects of such removals and replacements. The Cyberpunk role playing game developed the notion of cyberpsychosis, a form of insanity caused by having your body replaced by machines. Obviously, it is not yet known what negative effects (if any) such enhancements will have. As in any case of weighing harms and benefits, the likely approach would be utilitarian: are the advantages of the technology worth the cost to the soldier?

A second type of enhancement is an add-on which does not replace existing organic parts. Instead, as the name implies, an add-on involves the addition of a device to the body of the soldier. Add-on cybernetics differ from wearables and standard gear in that they are implanted in or attached to the soldier’s body. As such, removal is more complicated than just taking off a suit of armor.

A minor example would be something like an implanted radio. A rather extreme example would be the comic book villain Doctor Octopus: his mechanical limbs are add-ons.  Other examples of add-ons include such things as implanted sensors, implanted armor, implanted weapons (such as in the comic book hero Wolverine), and other such augmentations.

Since these devices do not involve removal of healthy parts, they do avoid that moral concern. However, there are still legitimate concerns about the physical and mental harm that might be caused by such devices. It is easy enough to imagine implanted devices having serious side effects on soldiers. As noted above, these matters would probably be best addressed by utilitarian ethics, weighing the harms against the benefits.

Both types of enhancements also raise a moral concern about returning the soldier to the civilian population after their term of service. In the case of restorative grade devices, there is not as much concern. These ex-soldiers would, ideally, function as they did before their injuries. However, the enhancements do present a potential problem since they, by definition, give the soldier capabilities that exceed that of normal humans. In some cases, re-integration would probably not be a problem. For example, a soldier with enhanced cyberoptics would presumably present no special problems. However, certain augmentations would present serious problems, such as implanted weapons or full conversions. Ideally, augmented soldiers could be restored to normal after their service has ended, but there could obviously be cases in which this was not done, either because of the cost or because the augmentation could not be reversed. This has been explored in science fiction, soldiers that can never stop being soldiers because they are machines of war. While this could be justified on utilitarian grounds (after all, war itself is often justified on such grounds), it is certainly a matter of concern, or will be.

 

Humans have limitations that make us less than ideal weapons of war. For example, we get tired and need sleep. As such, it is no surprise militaries have sought various ways to augment humans to counter these weaknesses. For example, militaries use caffeine and amphetamines to keep their soldiers awake and alert. There have also been experiments in other forms of improvement.

In science fiction, militaries go far beyond these drugs and develop potent pharmaceuticals. These chemicals tend to split into two broad categories. The first consists of short-term enhancements (what gamers refer to as “buffs”) that address a human weakness or provide augmented abilities.  In the real world, caffeine and amphetamines are short-term enhancement drugs.

In fiction, the classic sci-fi role-playing game Traveller featured the aptly (though generically) named combat drug. This drug would boost the user’s strength and endurance for about ten minutes. Other fictional drugs have more dramatic effects, such as the Venom drug used by the super villain Bane. Given that militaries already use short-term enhancers, it is reasonable to think they are interested in more advanced enhancers of the sort considered in science fiction.

The second category is long-term enhancers. These are chemicals that enable or provide long-lasting effects. An obvious real-world example is steroids: these allow the user to develop greater muscle mass and increased strength. In fiction, the most famous example is probably the super-soldier serum that was used to transform Steve Rogers into Captain America.

Since the advantages of improved soldiers are obvious, it seems reasonable to think that militaries would also be interested in the development of effective long-term enhancers. While it is unlikely there will be a super-soldier serum soon, chemicals aimed at improving attention span, alertness, memory, intelligence, endurance, pain tolerance and such would be useful to militaries. And people in general.

As might be suspected, chemical enhancers raise moral concerns worth considering. While some might see discussing enhancers that do not yet (as far as we know) exist as a waste of time, there is an advantage in considering ethical issues in advance. It is wiser to plan for a problem before it happens rather than waiting for it to occur and then dealing with it.

One obvious point of concern, especially given the record of unethical experimentation, is that enhancers will be used on soldiers without their informed consent. Since this is a general issue, I addressed it in its own essay and reached the obvious conclusion: informed consent is morally required. As such, the following discussion assumes that the soldiers using the enhancers have been informed of the nature of the enhancers and have given their consent.

When discussing the ethics of enhancers, it might be useful to consider real world cases in which enhancers are used. One obvious example is that of professional sports. While Major League Baseball has seen many cases of athletes using such enhancers, they are used worldwide and in many sports, from running to gymnastics. In the case of sports, one of the main reasons certain enhancers, such as steroids, are considered unethical is that they provide the athlete with an unfair advantage.

While this is a legitimate concern in sports, it does not apply to war. After all, there is no moral requirement for fair competition in battle. Rather, the goal is to gain every advantage over the enemy to win. As such, the fact that enhancers would provide an “unfair” advantage in war does not make them immoral. One can, of course, discuss the relative morality of the sides involved in the war, but this is another matter.

A second reason why the use of enhancers is wrong in sports is that they often have harmful side effects. Steroids, for example, do awful things to the body. Given that even aspirin has potentially harmful side effects, it seems likely that military-grade enhancers will have serious harmful side effects. These might include addiction, psychological issues, organ damage, death, and perhaps even new side effects yet to be observed in medicine. Given the potential for harm, an obvious way to approach the ethics of this matter is utilitarianism. That is, the benefits of the enhancers would need to be weighed against the harm caused by their use.

This assessment could be done with a narrow limit: the harm of the enhancer could be weighed against the benefits provided to the soldier. For example, an enhancer that boosted a combat pilot’s alertness and significantly increased her reaction speed while having the potential to cause short-term insomnia and diarrhea would seem to be morally (and pragmatically) fine given the relatively low harms for significant gains. As another example, a drug that greatly boosted a soldier’s long-term endurance while creating a high risk of a stroke or heart attack would seem to be morally and pragmatically problematic.

The assessment could also be done more broadly by considering ever-wider factors. For example, the harms of an enhancer could be weighed against the importance of a specific mission and the contribution the enhancer would make to the success of the mission. So, if a powerful drug with terrible side-effects was critical to an important mission, its use could be morally justified in the same way that taking any risk for such an objective can be justified. As another example, the harm of an enhancer could be weighed against the contribution its general use would make to the war. So, a drug that increased the effectiveness of soldiers, yet cut their life expectancy, could be justified by its ability to shorten a war. As a final example, there is also the broader moral concern about the ethics of the conflict itself. So, the use of a dangerous enhancer by soldiers fighting for a morally good cause could be justified by that cause (using the notion that the consequences justify the means).

There are, of course, those who reject using utilitarian calculations as the basis for moral assessment. For example, there are those who believe (often on religious grounds) that the use of pharmaceuticals is always wrong (be they used for enhancement, recreation or treatment). Obviously enough, if the use of pharmaceuticals is wrong in general, then their specific application in the military context would also be wrong. The challenge is, of course, to show that the use of pharmaceuticals is simply wrong, regardless of the consequences.

In general, the military use of enhancers should be assessed morally on utilitarian grounds, weighing the benefits of the enhancers against the harm done to the soldiers.

Science fiction abounds with stories of enhanced soldiers such as Captain America and the Space Marines of Warhammer 40K. The real-world augmentation of soldiers raises a moral concern about informed consent. While fiction abounds with tales of involuntary augmentation, real soldiers and citizens of the United States have also been coerced or deceived into participating in experiments. As such, are legitimate grounds for being concerned that soldiers and citizens could be involuntarily augmented as part of experiments or actual weapon deployment.

Assuming the context of a democratic state, it is reasonable to hold that augmenting a soldier without informed consent would be immoral. After all, the individual has rights against the democratic state, and these include the right not to be unjustly coerced or deceived. Socrates, in the Crito, also advanced reasonable arguments that the obedience of a citizen required that the state not coerce or deceive the citizen in the social contract and this would apply to soldiers in a democratic state. Or any morally legitimate state.

It is tempting to rush to accept that informed consent would make the augmentation of soldiers morally acceptable. After all, the soldier would know what they were getting into and would be volunteering. In popular fiction, one example is Steve Rogers volunteering for the super soldier conversion. Given his consent, such an augmentation would seem morally acceptable.

There are, of course, some cases where informed consent makes a critical difference in ethics. One obvious example is the moral difference between sex and rape; the difference is a matter of informed and competent consent. If Sam agrees to have sex with Sally, then Sally is not raping Sam. But if Sally drugs Sam and has her way with him, then that would be rape.  Another obvious example is the difference between theft and receiving a gift. This is also a matter of informed consent. If Sally gives Sam a diamond ring, then that is not theft. If Sam takes the ring by force or coercion, then that is theft and presumably wrong.

Even when informed consent is important, there are still cases in which consent does not make the action morally acceptable. For example, Sam might consent to give Sally an heirloom ring that has been in the family for untold generations, but it might still be the wrong thing to do, especially when Sally pawns the ring to buy ketamine and Tesla stock.

There are also cases in which informed consent is not relevant because of the morality of the action itself. For example, Sam might have consented to join Sally’s plot to murder Ashley but this would not be relevant to the ethics of the murder. At best it could be said that Sally did not add to her misdeed by coercing or tricking her accomplices, but this would not make the murder itself less bad.

Turning back to the main subject of augmentation, even if the soldiers gave their informed consent, the above consideration shows that there would still be the question of whether the augmentation itself is moral. For example, there are reasonable moral arguments against genetically modifying human beings. If these arguments hold up, then even if a soldier consented to genetic modification, the modification itself would be immoral.  I will be addressing the ethics of pharmaceutical and cybernetic augmentation in later essays.

While informed consent does seem to be a moral necessity, this position can be countered. One way to do this is to make use of a utilitarian argument: if the benefits gained from augmenting soldiers without their informed consent outweighed the harm, then the augmentation would be morally acceptable. For example, imagine that a war against a wicked enemy is going badly and that an augmentation method has been developed that could turn the war around. The augmentation is dangerous and has awful long-term side-effects that would deter most soldiers from volunteering. However, losing to the wicked enemy would be worse, so it could be argued that the soldiers should be deceived so that the war can be won. As another example, a wicked enemy is not needed, it could simply be argued that the use of augmented soldiers would end the war faster, thus saving lives, albeit at the cost of those terrible side-effects.

Another stock approach is to appeal to the arguments used by democracies to justify conscription in time of war. If the state (or, rather, those who expect people to do what they say) can coerce citizens into killing and dying in war, then the state can surely coerce and citizens to undergo augmentation. It is easy to imagine a legislature passing something called “the conscription and augmentation act” that legalizes coercing citizens into being augmented to serve in the military. Of course, there are those who are suspicious of democratic states so blatantly violating the rights of life and liberty. However, not all states are democratic. The United States, for example, seems to have given up the pretense of democracy.

While democratic states face some moral limits when it comes to involuntary augmentation, non-democratic states appear to have more options. For example, under fascism the individual exists to serve the state (that is, the bad people who think everyone else should do what they say). If this political system is morally correct, then the state would have every right to coerce or deceive the citizens for the good of the state. In fiction, these states tend to be the ones to crank out involuntary augmented soldiers that still manage to lose to the good guys.

Naturally, even if the state has the right to coerce or deceive soldiers into becoming augmented, it does not automatically follow that the augmentation itself is morally acceptable, this would depend on the specific augmentations. These matters will be addressed in upcoming essays.

Military science fiction often includes powered exoskeletons, also known as exoframes, exosuits or powered armor. A basic exoskeleton is a powered framework providing the wearer with enhanced strength. In movies such as Edge of Tomorrow and video games such as Call of Duty Advanced Warfare the exoskeleton provides improved mobility and carrying capacity but do not provide much armor. In contrast, powered armor provides the benefits of an exoskeleton while also providing protection. The powered armor of Starship Troopers, The Forever War, Armor and Iron Man all serve as classic examples of this sort of gear. The Space Marines of Warhammer 40K and the Sisters of Battle also wear powered armor. While the sisters are “normal” humans, the Space Marines are enhanced super soldiers.

Because the exoskeletons of fiction provide soldiers with enhanced strength, mobility and carrying capacity, it makes sense that real militaries are interested in exoskeletons. While they have yet to be deployed on the battlefield, there are some ethical concerns about the augmentation of soldiers.

On the face of it, using exoskeletons in warfare seems morally unproblematic. An exoskeleton is analogous to any other vehicle, with the exception that it is worn rather than driven. A normal car or even a bicycle provides a person with enhanced mobility and carrying capacity and this is not immoral. In terms of the military context, an exoskeleton would be comparable to a Humvee or a truck, both of which seem morally unproblematic as well.

It might be objected that the use of exoskeletons would give wealthier nations an unfair advantage in war. The easy and obvious response to this is, unlike in sports and games, gaining an “unfair” advantage in war is not immoral. After all, there is no moral expectation that combatants will engage in a fair fight rather than taking advantage of such things as technology and numbers.

It might be objected that the advantage provided by exoskeletons would encourage countries that had them to engage in aggressions they would not otherwise engage in. The obvious reply is that despite the hype of video games and movies, any exoskeleton available soon would most likely not provide great advantage to infantry. As such, the use of exoskeletons would not seem morally problematic in this regard.

Another possible concern is what might be called the “Iron Man Syndrome” (to totally make something up). The idea is that soldiers equipped with exoskeletons might become overconfident (seeing themselves as being like Iron Man) put themselves and others at risk. After all, unless there are some amazing advances in armor technology that are unmatched by weapon technology, soldiers in powered armor will still be vulnerable to weapons capable of taking on light vehicle armor (which exist in abundance). However, this could be easily addressed by training. And experience.

A second point of possible concern is what could be called the “ogre complex” (also totally made up). An exoskeleton that dramatically boosts a soldier’s strength might encourage some people to act as bullies and abuse civilians or prisoners. While this might be a legitimate concern, it can be addressed by proper training and discipline.

There are, of course, the usual peripheral issues associated with new weapons technology that could have moral relevance. For example, it is easy to imagine a nation wastefully spending money on exoskeletons. However, such matters are not specific to exoskeletons and would not be moral problems for the technology as such.

Given the above, augmenting soldiers with exoskeletons poses no new moral concerns and is morally comparable to providing soldiers with trucks, tanks and planes.

Anyone who has played RTS games such as Blizzard’s Starcraft knows the basics of swarm warfare: you build a swarm of cheap units and hurl them against the enemy’s smaller force of more expensive units. The plan is that although the swarm will be decimated, the enemy will be exterminated. The same tactic is also used in the classic tabletop game Ogre. It pitted a lone intelligent super tank against a large force of human infantry and armor. And, of course, the real world has many examples of swarm warfare with some successful for those using the swarm tactic (ants taking out a larger foe) and some proving disastrous (massed infantry attacks on machineguns in WWI).

A modern approach to swarm tactics is to build a swarm of drones and deploy them against the enemy. While such drones will tend to be airborne units, they could also be ground or sea machines. In terms of their attacks, there are many options. The drones could be large enough to be equipped with weapons, such as small caliber guns, that would allow them to engage and return to reload for future battles. Some might be equipped with melee weapons, poisons, or biological weapons. The drones could also be suicide machines, small missiles intended to damage the enemy by destroying themselves.

While the development of military drone swarms in the United States will fall within the usual high cost of developing new weapon technology, the drones themselves can be cheap. After all, they will tend to be much smaller and simpler than crewed weapons such as aircraft, ships and ground vehicles. The main cost will most likely be in developing the software to make the drones operate effectively in a swarm; but after that it will be just a matter of mass producing the hardware.

If effective software and cost-effective hardware can be developed, one of the main advantages of the battle swarm will be its low cost. While such low-cost warfare might be problematic for defense contractors who have grown accustomed to profitable contracts, it is appealing to those concerned about costs and reducing government spending. After all, if low-cost drones could replace expensive units, defenses expenses could be significantly reduced. The savings could be used for social programs or, more likely, more tax cuts for the wealthy.

Low-cost units, if effective, can confer an attrition advantage. If, for example, it costs you $12,000 in drones to take down the enemy’s $12,000,000 fighter jet, then you stand a decent chance of winning. If hundreds of dollars of drones can take down millions of dollars of aircraft, then the situation is even better for the side with the drones. Likewise for naval vessels, land vehicles and structures.

The low cost does raise some concerns, though. Once the drone controlling software makes its way out into the world (via the inevitable hack, theft, or sale), then everyone could use swarms. This will recreate the IED and suicide bomber situation, only at an exponential increase. Instead of IEDs in the road, they will be flying around cities, looking for targets. Instead of a few suicide bombers with vests, there will be swarms of drones loaded with explosives. Since Uber comparisons are now mandatory, the swarm will be the Uber of death.

This does raise moral concerns about the development of drone software and technology; but the easy and obvious reply is that there is nothing new about this situation: every weapon ever developed eventually gets around. As such, the usual ethics of weapon development applies here, with due emphasis on the possibility of providing another cheap and effective way to destroy and kill.

One short term advantage of the first swarms is that they will be facing weapons designed primarily to engage small numbers of high value targets. For example, air defense systems now consist mostly of expensive missiles designed to destroy very expensive aircraft. Firing a standard anti-aircraft missile into a swarm will destroy some of the drones (assuming the missile detonates), but enough of the swarm will probably survive the attack for it to remain effective. It is also likely that the weapons used to defend against the drones will cost more than the drones, which ties back into the cost advantage.

This advantage of the drones would be quickly lost if effective anti-swarm weapons were developed. Not surprisingly, gamers have already worked out effective responses to swarms. In D&D and Pathfinder players generally loath swarms for the same reason that ill-prepared militaries will loath drone swarms: while individual swarm members are easy to kill, it is difficult to kill enough of them with standard weapons. In games, players respond to swarms with area of effect attacks, such as fireballs (or running away). These sorts of attacks can consume the entire swarm and either eliminate it or reduce its numbers, so it is no longer a threat. While the real world has an unfortunate lack of wizards, the same idea will work against drone swarms: cheap weapons that do moderate damage over a large area. One possible weapon is a battery of large, automatic shotguns that fill the sky with pellets or flechettes. Missiles could also be designed that act like claymore mines in the sky, spraying ball bearings in almost all directions.  And, obviously enough, swarms will be countered by swarms.

The drones would also be subject to electronic warfare. If they are being remotely controlled, this connection could be disrupted. Autonomous drones would be  less vulnerable, but they would still need to coordinate with each other to remain a swarm, and this coordination could be targeted.

The practical challenge would be to make the defenses cheap enough to make them cost effective. Then again, countries whose ruling class is happy to burn money for expensive weapon systems would not need to worry about the costs. In fact, defense contractors will presumably be lobbying for expensive swarm and anti-swarm systems.

The swarms also inherit  existing moral concerns about non-swarm drones, be they controlled by humans or deployed as autonomous killing machines. The ethical problems of swarms controlled by a human operator would be the same as the ethical problems of a single drone controlled by a human, the difference in numbers does not make a moral difference. For example, if drone assassination with a single drone is wrong (or right), then drone assassination with a swarm would also be wrong (or right).

Likewise, an autonomous swarm is not morally different from a single autonomous unit in terms of the ethics of the situation.  For example, if deploying a single autonomous killbot is wrong (or right), then deploying an autonomous killbot swarm is wrong (or right).  That said, perhaps there is a greater chance that an autonomous killbot swarm will develop a rogue hive mind and turn against us. Or perhaps not. In any case, Will Rodgers will be proven right once again: “You can’t say that civilization don’t advance, however, for in every war they kill you in a new way.”

 

Back in 2016 the Dallas police used a remotely operated robot to kill a suspect with a bomb. While this marked a new use for robots in the realm of domestic policing, the decision-making process was conventional. That is, humans decided to use the machine and then a human operator controlled it for the attack. As such the true policebot is still a thing of science fiction. That said, considering policebots provides an interesting way to discuss police profiling in a speculative setting. While it might be objected that the discussion should focus on real police profiling, there are advantages to discussing controversial matters within a speculative context. One important advantage is that such a setting can help dampen emotional responses and enable a more rational discussion. The speculative context helps make the discussion less threatening to some who might react with greater hostility to discussions focused on the actual world. Star Trek’s discussion of issues of race in the 1960s using science fiction is an excellent example of this sort of approach. Now, to the matter of policebots.

The policebots under consideration are those that would be capable of a high degree of autonomous operation. At the low end of autonomy, they could be deployed to enforce traffic laws on their own, such as tracking speeding and issuing tickets. On the higher end, they could operate autonomously to conduct arrests of suspects who might resist arrest violently. Near the highest end would be robotic police at least as capable as human beings. Beyond that would be supercops.

While there are legitimate worries that policebots could be used as unquestioning servants of the state to oppress and control elements of the population (something we will certainly see), there are also good reasons for using advanced policebots. One obvious advantage is that policebots would be more resilient and easier to repair than human officers. Policebots that are not people would also be more expendable and thus could save human lives by taking on the dangerous tasks of policing (such as engaging armed suspects). Another advantage is that robots will probably not get tired or bored, thus allowing them to patrol around the clock with maximum efficiency. Robots are also unlikely to be subject to the corrupting factors that influence humans or suffer from personal issues, such as going through a divorce. There is also the possibility that policebots could be more objective than human officers. This is, in fact, the main concern of this essay.

Like a human office, policbots would need to identify criminal behavior. In some cases, this would be easy. For example, an autonomous police drone could easily spot and ticket most speeding violations. In other cases, this would be incredibly complicated. For example, a policebot patrolling a neighborhood would need to discern between children playing at cops & robbers and people engaged in actual violence. As another example, a policebot on patrol would need to be able to sort out the difference between a couple having a public argument and an assault in progress.

In addition to sorting out criminal behavior from non-criminal behavior, policebots would also need to decide on how to focus their attention. For example, a policebot would need to determine who gets special attention in a neighborhood because they are acting suspicious or seem to be out of place. Assuming that policebots would be programed, the decision-making process would be explicitly laid out in the code. Such focusing decisions would seem to be, by definition, based in profiling and this gives rise to important moral concerns.

Profiling that is based on behavior would seem to be acceptable, provided that such behavior is clearly linked to criminal activities and not to, as an example, ethnicity. For example, it would seem perfectly reasonable to focus attention on a person who tries to stick to the shadows around houses while paying undue attention to houses that seem to be unoccupied at the time. While such a person might be a shy fellow who likes staring at unlit houses as a pastime, there is a reasonable chance he is scouting the area for a robbery. As such, the policebot would be warranted in focusing on him.

The most obviously controversial area would be using certain demographic data for profiles. Young men tend to commit more crimes than middle-aged women. On the one hand, this would seem to be relevant data for programing a policebot. On the other hand, it could be argued that this would give the policebot a gender and age bias that would be morally wrong despite being factually accurate. It becomes vastly more controversial when data about such things as ethnicity, economic class and religion are considered. If accurate and objective data links such factors to a person being more likely to engage in crime, then a rather important moral concern arises. Obviously enough, if such data were not accurate, then it should not be included.

Sorting out the accuracy of such data can be problematic and there are sometimes circular appeals. For example, the right often defends the higher arrest rate of blacks by claiming that blacks commit more crimes than whites. When it is objected that higher arrest rate could be partially due to bias in policing, the reply is often that blacks commit more crimes and the proof is that blacks are arrested more than whites. That is, the justification runs in a circle.

But suppose that objective and accurate data showed links between demographic categories and crime. In that case, leaving it out of the programing could make policebots less effective. This could have the consequence of allowing more crimes to occur. This harm would need to be weighed against the harm of having the policebots programmed to profile based on such factors. One area of concern is public perception of the policebots and their use of profiling. This could have negative consequences that could outweigh the harm of having less efficient policebots.

Another area of potential harm is that even if the policebots operated on accurate data, they would still end up arresting people disproportionally, thus potentially causing harm that would exceed the harm done by the loss of effectiveness. This also ties into higher level moral concerns about the reasons why specific groups might commit more crimes than others and these reasons often include social injustice and economic inequality. As such, even “properly” programmed policebots could be arresting the victims of social and economic crimes. This suggests an interesting idea for a science fiction story: policebots that decide to reduce crime by going after the social and economic causes of crime rather than arresting people to enforce an unjust social order.