Robot 1.0 followed lines — on factory floors, on roads, in code. It calculated. It obeyed. It broke down when the world went gray. It was brilliant at repetition, helpless at surprise.
If yes, then the age of fear ends. And the age of trust begins.
So here is the test for Robot 2.0: Not chess. Not factory speed. But this — can it sit beside a grieving woman in a gray chair, saying nothing, and by its quiet presence, make the room one degree warmer?
The first robot was a mirror. We looked into its metal face and saw our own fear: a thing that never tires, never asks why, never dreams of a field of wheat.
