A robot is better than a real pet?
I had the opportunity to speak at a vibrant Community and Digital Care seminar in Singapore, organized by the esteemed APARA. The focus was on the fascinating role of technology in combating cognitive decline. The event culminated in a lively radio panel discussion with some of the world’s leading doctors. During our preparation, we delved into the intriguing world of therapeutic robots used in dementia care. When the Paro robot made its debut in Finland, it sparked a spirited debate about its role and whether it’s ethically right for someone to form an attachment to a robot. In my view, what truly counts is the individual’s experience. If a robot can alleviate patient stress or enhance a client’s relaxation, then its use is undeniably valuable.
As we discussed the issue, there were valid points on how a therapeutic robot could be better than a real pet.
- Walking a dog or other per could become a problem. What if a person with a memory disability is unable to find their way back home? Or perhaps walking the pet cannot be done due to deterioration of the elderly’s mobility. What if the pet needs to be put down because of it? On the other hand, the need to walk the pet help the owner stay in better shape too.
- Taking care of a pet is difficult. Pet could end up in trouble if a person with dementia forgets to feed the animal. Additionally, forgetting to take care of the litter box could create sanitization problems in the apartment.
- Maintaining and feeding the pet costs continually money. It is easy to budget for feeding and other maintenance, but unplanned expenses, such as vet bills are harder to estimate. The costs of therapeutic robots are known well in advance, and there will not be surprises.
- Lifespan of a pet is short. One of the points favouring the robot was about the pet’s death. Depending on a pet, their lifespans are of different lengths. Fish in an aquarium only last few years, cats, and dogs possibly longer. In the worst-case scenario, a person with dementia will have to face the pet’s death, and it will not be easier for him or her than for the rest of us.
A bit simplified perhaps, but you get the point. 🙂
The possibilities are limitless
I also asked for a comment from Annikka Immonen, who has created a lot of our program contents regarding our care for memory illness and dementia. She emphasized that “the technology we use in our everyday lives, should enforce and deepen our experiences in our daily lives. In the best-case scenario, it is not detached from our day-to-day activities, but instead intertwined with them.” So well said.
In the radio interview, Dr Oren Fuerst talked about the benefits of using companion robot instead of a pet. He noted that you cannot play chess with a pet, cannot have a discussion, nor will it remind you to take your medication. The possibilities are almost limitless, just depending on our imagination.
Surprisingly, there are some pretty compelling arguments for swapping your furry friend for a therapeutic robot. I mean, Fluffy 2.0 doesn’t shed, chew your shoes, or demand belly rubs at 3 AM. But let’s be honest, nothing beats the soulful stare of a real pet when you’re having a bad day—or their uncanny ability to photobomb every video call. The perfect solution is a mixed bag: some folks might go full robot, while others stick with the classic furball. Or maybe it’s a blend of both—imagine a pet that fetches your slippers and charges itself! In the end, it’s a bit like choosing between pineapple on pizza or not—deliciously divisive and definitely not black and white.
