When Robots Cross the Street
By: Sophie K., Age 17, (Los Angeles, CA)
The first time I saw a food delivery robot was on TikTok. Someone had filmed one stuck in the middle of an intersection, its wheels spinning as it tried to climb the curb. The video had thousands of views and hundreds of comments cheering it on, “You can do it, little guy!” “Protect him at all costs!”
A few weeks later, I saw one in my neighborhood, a small white robot rolling slowly down the sidewalk with blinking cartoon eyes on its display screen. When it reached a crosswalk, it stopped and waited for cars to pass. A man nearby waved it across like he would a child. I caught myself smiling.
That moment made me realize something strange - people weren’t just reacting to technology. They were reacting to personality.
Food delivery robots are designed to look cute and harmless, with round edges, blinking eyes, and tiny “beeps” that make them seem alive. Companies have figured out that if a machine looks friendly, people treat it with empathy. When a robot tips over, strangers rush to help. When one pauses at a crosswalk, drivers stop. The robots have become small celebrities not because of what they do, but because of how they make us feel.
I started paying attention to how people interacted with the robots versus the people who actually made or delivered the food. In videos and in real life, people smiled at the robots, took selfies, and posted them online. But few seemed to think about the restaurant workers behind the orders or the delivery drivers being replaced. The robots got attention, the people got ignored.
That realization bothered me. It made me think that empathy is not disappearing, but being misplaced. Designers know that if a robot looks friendly, we are more likely to trust it, forgive it, and even root for it when it struggles. But that design also makes it easier for companies to put a friendly face on automation that replaces human jobs.
I started reading more about this idea and learned that it isn’t an accident. Anthropomorphic design, giving machines human traits, is a strategy meant to make technology feel familiar. It helps us accept it more quickly, but it also blurs the line between what deserves empathy and what simply mimics it.
“When we feel empathy for machines, we have to ask who is really benefiting from that emotion — the robot, or the company behind it?”
I still find these robots fascinating. They make me laugh when I see them on TikTok, and I still wave when one rolls past my street. But I am also learning to notice what is not in the frame, the people designing, programming, and maintaining the technology that makes these little machines possible.
Maybe the real lesson isn’t about the robots at all. It’s about remembering that empathy is powerful, and we need to aim it carefully. Machines can borrow our kindness, but only humans can return it.