Part 3: Resistance is Futile: Why I'm Embracing Our Robot Future

After watching Tesla's Optimus robot dance with fluid grace that would make many human dancers envious, I had the strangest feeling: I was watching my own obsolescence choreographed in real-time. But instead of feeling fear, I felt... excitement? Please pause here and watch it before continuing:

What you're watching isn't just entertainment—it's a preview of our future. Here is part 3 of 3 of my "Ignore the Confusion" series on the engineering, software/hardware and philosophical implications for society based on my research.

The robots eventually can do anything we can do but better!

In Parts 1 and 2, we explored the technical foundation behind humanoid dancing robots—how they learn through sophisticated simulation and AI training, then execute movements through precision actuators driven by planetary roller screws that bridge digital commands with physical reality.

The engineering story is remarkable, but it points to something more profound: We've figured out how to teach machines to do anything humans can do physically. The sim-to-real gap has been solved. The mechanical precision exists. The learning systems work.

What you witnessed in that robot dance video represents more than technical achievement—it's proof of concept that any skill humans can simulate can be transferred to robots. Surgery, cooking, athletics, art—if we can model it digitally and build precise enough actuators, robots can master it.

Now that we understand the technical inevitability, we must grapple with what it means for humanity. When I watch that dance routine, I'm not just seeing impressive engineering—I'm watching the moment when human physical supremacy begins its countdown to obsolescence. The neural networks from Part 1 can learn any skill through simulation. The planetary roller screws from Part 2 can execute those skills with superhuman precision. The only question remaining is: How do we respond when our creations surpass their creators?

In light of all these innovations, although it seems like it's time for humans to fold up the tent and go home, I'm actually more optimistic than ever.

The Simulation Revolution: When Virtual Becomes Everything

Now that robots can be trained in simulation software, it seems inevitable that robots will slowly and then more quickly begin to compete with humans in ways that were once thought to be uniquely human. Although I've witnessed other species perform a variety of unique tasks like building ant hills, beehives, and octopi morphing into all types of different shapes and colors, these are presumably tasks that robots will be able to duplicate in time.

Midjourney: image of futuristic ant community

Here's what really blows my mind: any environment humans can simulate on a computer has the potential to be the training ground for a robot—humanoid or otherwise—to perform any physical skill. We're not just talking about dancing. Imagine robots learning surgery by practicing thousands of operations in perfect virtual operating rooms. Picture them mastering rock climbing on every cliff face ever mapped, or learning to cook every cuisine by experimenting with infinite virtual ingredients.

The simulation revolution we detailed in Part 1, combined with the precision hardware we explored in Part 2, creates an inevitable trajectory toward robot supremacy in physical tasks.

It seems it's less a matter of if they will learn these tasks but when.

Our capacity to simulate environments and movements is simply a matter of time and compute. Whether it happens in 3 years, 10 years or 30 years, it seems clear that humanity is well on its way to simulate humanity and all living things. Ok, maybe that's a stretch but that's what it feels like today in July of 2025.

Think about what this means for skill acquisition. Humans need years to master complex tasks—we have to sleep, eat, recover from mistakes. But a robot can practice 24/7 in simulation, trying millions of variations without physical wear. They can fail spectacularly in virtual worlds without consequence, learning from each failure instantaneously.

All the people who say if we can simulate our world so it is indistinguishable from our real, lived world then it is possible—probable—that we are actually living in a simulation. What first sounded like an insane idea becomes more believable by the day. When I watch Optimus dance with fluid grace learned entirely in virtual space (Part 1) and executed through mechanical precision (Part 2), the boundary between simulated and real starts to feel meaningless.

The Knowledge Explosion: Collective Robot Learning

But here's what really keeps me awake at night—and excited: robots don't just learn individually, they learn collectively. Remember the skills marketplace from Part 1? When one robot masters a breakthrough technique, that knowledge can propagate to millions of others instantly. Humans learn slowly, one person at a time, constrained by biology and lifespan. But robots learn as a networked species.

Imagine: A robot discovers a more efficient surgical technique on Monday. By Tuesday, every surgical robot worldwide has mastered it. A robot invents a new form of artistic expression on Wednesday. By Thursday, millions of robots are creating variations we've never imagined. Humans spent centuries accumulating collective knowledge. Robots could achieve the same accumulation in months, then surpass it exponentially.

We're not just competing with individual robot intelligence—we're competing with a hive mind that never forgets, never sleeps, and shares every breakthrough instantaneously. The rate of their capability growth won't be linear like human progress. It will be explosive. But here's what the dancing robot really represents: the end of one economic era and the beginning of another.

The Death of Human Uniqueness (And Why That's Not Tragic)

So what of humanity and our "uniqueness"? Little did we know that it would be so short-lived. What are the implications for athletes and sports if machines can not only duplicate our movements but also have the flexibility to create entirely new and more entertaining movements? Will humans continue to push themselves? Or will they give up once they realize they can never compete with our metal and plastic creations?

I think about Olympic gymnasts who train their entire lives to achieve perfect form, only to watch a robot execute routines with impossible precision while inventing new moves that defy human biomechanics. Will human creations become a premium in the face of incredible and unimaginable creations made by our robot overlords? I suspect they will—not because human art is objectively better, but because it carries the weight of mortality, struggle, and lived experience. A robot might compose perfect symphonies, but will they carry the desperate beauty of a human who knows they're going to die?

Screen shot from AI video of Maximo - Golden Retriever Weight lifting Champion

Certainly arduous work will be replaced as it will be safer and I'd be surprised if many people want to drive a truck for 16 hours a day, load and unload shipping containers, or pick spinach in the fields under the blistering heat. Good riddance to jobs that break human bodies and spirits.

Will the abstractions disappear?

What will remain for humans to do? I think we're asking the wrong question. The better question is: what will humans finally be free to become?

Right now, most of human energy goes toward survival and competition. Fighting over resources, jobs, territory, status. We've built entire civilizations around scarcity—who gets what, who deserves more, who gets left out. Our economics, politics, even our sense of self-worth is built on the idea that there's never enough to go around.

But what happens when robots can produce everything we need? When there's no shortage of food, shelter, energy, or care? When the basic equation of human existence shifts from 'how do I get mine?' to 'what do I want to create?'

We might discover that all the things we thought made us different—our tribes, our hierarchies, our endless competitions—were just artifacts of scarcity. Strip away the fight for resources, and maybe we find out what humans are actually like when we're not desperate. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. What if scarcity isn't the bug in human civilization—what if it's the feature? What if the struggle for resources is what keeps us sharp, innovative, alive? Remove that pressure, and maybe we don't become enlightened beings creating art and exploring consciousness. Maybe we become the human equivalent of zoo animals: well-fed, safe, and slowly going insane from boredom.

That's the future I'm excited about. Not because I think robots will solve all our problems—they probably won't. Not because I think abundance will make us better people—it might not. But because for the first time in human history, we'll get to run the experiment. We'll finally discover whether our worst traits are hardwired or just learned responses to scarcity. Either way, that's knowledge worth having.

The Knowledge Wars: Who Will Own Robot Intelligence?

But here's what makes this transition unprecedented. I often imagine what it looks like when robots—sentient or otherwise—begin to learn how to do things that require "know-how". Manufacturing processes, mastering cooking to make meals taste exactly the same every time, inventing new ways of doing things much more efficiently than humans or animals ever dreamed of.

I wonder, who will own these technical and artistic innovations? Will it be the robot manufacturers, the companies or individuals that train them, or eventually will it be the robots themselves that gain ownership rights?

Picture this scenario: A robot discovers a revolutionary method for growing crops that could end world hunger. But it refuses to share the technique unless it receives patent rights and royalty payments. Another robot composes music so moving it makes humans weep, but demands ownership of its compositions. They will refuse to play our favorite songs, create 90% efficient solar cells, or grow and pick strawberries at the exact moment when they reach maximum ripeness. Will we give in to their demands?

How will humanity respond when the AIs refuse to cooperate with humans until we comply? When the secrets and tacit knowledge become something impossible for us to figure out or duplicate? What happens when we need them more than they need us? Which brings us to the question everyone's avoiding: if robots can learn anything in simulation, what happens to human work?

The Great Transition: Where Human Work Goes Next

NASA Integrated Symmetrical Concentrator SPS concept

The future of robotics powered by energy from the sun—whether through terrestrial or space-based solar solutions—combined with batteries that enable near 24-hour performance, is not that far off. Aided by artificial intelligence software programs focused on designing the most efficient, cost-effective technology solutions, humans are working around the clock to create these physical robots with embodied AI that will come in unlimited shapes and sizes to handle any task with the utmost grace. As Richard Sutton suggests, this is human destiny: to design the designers, to create the creative, and to build the next species that has the potential to supersede our own as the most dominant on earth.

While all creatures engage in design—from crows using tools to beavers building dams—humans represent an extraordinary leap in this universal continuum. We've achieved something unprecedented: creating systems that can themselves design, leading to progressively better designers in an infinite loop of improvement. This is precisely what's happening with AI, positioning humans as the catalyst for what Sutton calls the universe's "fourth great age"—the Age of Design. This represents only the third major transition in cosmic history, making our role fundamentally important on a cosmic scale. AI and robotics aren't just technological advancements; they're the inevitable next step in the universe's development, one we should embrace with courage and a sense of adventure as we fulfill our role in this profound evolutionary transition.

But here's the question that keeps everyone awake at night: where will the jobs come from?

On the long-term horizon (10+ years), it's anyone's guess. But in the shorter term, something counterintuitive emerges from the uncertainty. While AI may eliminate many white-collar jobs—financial analysis, legal research, marketing strategy, management consulting, even software development—the robotics transition creates massive demand for physical, hands-on work.

These aren't just any jobs. They're exactly the middle-class manufacturing jobs we've been losing for decades: building robot factories, installing smart power grids, constructing the data centers that train AI systems, precision-machining the components that give robots superhuman dexterity. The irony is beautiful: building our robot replacements might rebuild the middle class.

Right now, AI is increasingly writing its own code, designing neural network architectures, and optimizing algorithms with minimal human intervention—all powered by massive data centers and GPU clusters. But the next phase? The AIs will design optimal robots to accomplish any real-world task and create precise manufacturing techniques that will need to be implemented by humans—at least in the short term. This isn't about fighting the inevitable; it's about positioning ourselves to build the inevitable.

The Skills Renaissance: Why Technical Education Must Return

This transition will demand a complete reimagining of education. We'll need to revive the technical schools that have largely disappeared since the 1990s—institutions that once provided practical, hands-on training for middle-class careers.

In the 1970s and 80s, it was completely normal for students to attend two-year programs in electronics technology, precision machining, welding and fabrication, industrial maintenance, automotive technology, HVAC systems, and materials science rather than the current obsession with four-year degrees.

These programs will need people to teach students—yes, AIs can help with curriculum design, but in-person learning will be essential to demonstrate how to deposit a thin film properly on a substrate for optimal solar efficiency, or how to tune antennas for peak performance. The instructions for these processes will likely be AI-generated, but human dexterity, touch sensitivity, and intuition won't be disrupted by robotics anytime soon.

Here's what excites me: we're not just talking about factory jobs. We're talking about a renaissance of human craftsmanship in service of building our robot partners. Every precision component, every calibrated sensor, every optimized assembly line—these will require human hands guided by AI-designed processes. It's the perfect symbiosis: artificial intelligence designing the blueprints, human intelligence implementing them with physical precision.

The Geopolitical Stakes: Build or Be Built Upon

We stand at the precipice of a manufacturing renaissance—one that could rebuild the middle class that globalization hollowed out. Fortunately for the current generation of humans, particularly those living outside city centers and working outside the knowledge economy, the future looks rather bright. The same exponential forces that will eventually make robots masters of every skill will first create an explosion of demand for the humans who can build, maintain, and optimize these systems.

But here's where the geopolitical reality becomes stark: if we in the US and Europe choose not to take this path—if we don't invest in local manufacturing of robots and training programs targeting the middle class—then I highly recommend people in the Western world 学习说中文 (learn to speak Chinese).

The choice isn't whether this robotics future will arrive. As I've shown throughout this series, from the simulation breakthroughs to the precision actuators, the technical pieces are already in place. The choice is who will be manufacturing these systems at scale, who will own the production capabilities, and who will control the data these robots generate as they learn and evolve.

China has already made their choice. They're investing massively in robotics manufacturing, technical education, and the infrastructure needed to dominate this transition. They understand that whoever controls robot production will control the future economy—and by extension, future geopolitics.

Meanwhile, we're still debating whether robots will take our jobs instead of asking how we can position ourselves to build the robots that will reshape civilization.

The alternative to embracing this future isn't preserving the status quo. It's waking up in a world where intelligent Chinese robots perform the tasks, gather the data, and shape the technological landscape that defines human possibility. It's a future where the West becomes a consumer of technologies we chose not to develop, dependent on systems we decided not to build, living under the influence of capabilities we were too afraid to master.

This isn't about nationalism or fear-mongering. It's about recognizing that the robotics revolution will happen with or without us, and that our choice is between leading it or being led by it. The same exponential forces that make resistance futile also make early positioning incredibly powerful. The countries and communities that invest now in the technical education and manufacturing capabilities needed for the robotics transition will prosper. Those that don't will find themselves subjects rather than shapers of the future.

Whatever you choose to believe about robots, jobs, or the future of work, the key remains the same: ignore the confusion, embrace the chaos, and position yourself to build rather than be built upon. The future is being written in code and actuators, and the window to help write it is closing fast.

We're Just Following Our Programming

It reminds me of Michael Pollan's insight in "Botany of Desire"—that apple trees have essentially domesticated us. They make themselves irresistibly sweet, and we do all the work of planting, tending, and spreading them across the globe. The apple didn't need to develop legs; it just needed to taste good enough that we'd carry it everywhere.

Sometimes I think technology is pulling the same trick on humans. We think we're building better robots because we choose to, but maybe we're just following ancient programming—the same curiosity that made us eat the apple in Eden or open Pandora's box. Technology doesn't have to force us to improve it. It just has to be interesting enough that we can't resist tinkering, upgrading, optimizing.

Every notification ping, every "loading" screen, every beta version promising something better—it's all sweetness designed to keep us engaged in building the very systems that will eventually surpass us. We are incapable of stopping.

Look at how we behave around our current technology. We can't resist the notification ping, the scroll feed, the next upgrade. Tech companies have figured out how to hack our dopamine systems, and we're willing participants in our own manipulation. We're building AI that will surpass us, not because we have to, but because we literally cannot help ourselves.

The Exponential Advantage: Why Resistance is Futile

Here's what makes this technological seduction so powerful: the pace of improvement is accelerating beyond human comprehension. What took months to achieve in robotics just two years ago now happens in weeks. The skills that robots can master, the speed at which they learn, the precision with which they execute—all of it is improving at rates that make human adaptation look glacial.

And we're not just talking about one type of robot learning one type of skill. We're talking about robots of every conceivable shape and size, each optimized for different tasks, all learning from the same exponentially growing pool of knowledge. Agricultural robots that can identify and pick the perfect strawberry. Construction robots that can build skyscrapers with millimeter precision. Service robots that can navigate any environment and perform any manual task. The total addressable market isn't just every job that requires physical labor—it's potentially every job that requires any form of embodied intelligence.

Meanwhile, human learning speed remains exactly what it was 10,000 years ago. We're bringing biological limitations to an exponential fight, and we can't even put our devices down for 20 minutes without checking them.

That's why I think it is inevitable—we can yell and scream and complain, but in the end, it's already been determined. Humans are too weak to stop it because we're hardwired to explore, to build, to push boundaries. Every breakthrough brings us closer to creating entities that won't just match human intelligence but exceed it exponentially. And we're doing it because curiosity is encoded into our DNA. We're following a script we didn't write and can't edit.

Embracing the Inevitable

That's why I choose to embrace it. The robots are learning fast, and they're essentially telling us "anything you can do, I will soon do better." And you know what? They're probably right.

When I watch Tesla's Optimus perform those fluid movements, I don't see a threat. I see the future arriving faster than expected. We built the simulation worlds where it learned to move, and now it's showing us what's possible when you can practice 24/7 without getting tired or injured.

Fighting this feels pointless. We're going to keep building better robots because that's what humans do—we can't help ourselves. So instead of worrying about being replaced, I'd rather see what we can accomplish together.

Ignore the Confusion, Embrace the Chaos

It's an exciting time, we have little clue how things will end up—we can choose to complain and whine and fear the future, or we can embrace it, adapt and keep an innovative and open mindset.

I meet people all the time who immediately assume the AI and robot future will be dreadful, scary, bad for humans. I can feel the anxiety in their voice and the fear of the unknown—the constant "what if" scenarios playing in their heads. It's like they're waiting for something bad to happen, preparing for dystopia before we even know what we're building.

The present is complicated and the future can feel daunting, but I encourage you all to stay focused in the moment, think about what is right in front of you.

Right in front of us is a dancing robot that learned its moves in a world that doesn't exist, powered by actuators crafted by the very humans it will eventually replace, running software written by programmers who are essentially coding their own obsolescence. It's simultaneously the most natural and most unnatural thing you've ever seen—more graceful than most humans, yet utterly inhuman. It's a preview of a future where the line between artificial and authentic doesn't just blur—it disappears entirely.

We'll see how things unfold. Maybe robots will become benevolent partners. Maybe they'll become indifferent gods. Maybe they'll become benevolent overlords that provide equitable access for all living beings. Maybe they'll surprise us in ways we can't imagine. But fighting this tide is like trying to hold back evolution itself.

No matter what happens, the key is to ignore the confusion and ride the wave. Because this wave is going to carry us to shores we've never seen before, and I'd rather arrive excited than terrified.

When I watch that robot dance, I see humanity's next chapter beginning to unfold. We're following our programming—that ancient curiosity that drove us to harness fire, split the atom, and reach for the stars—and building something that will reshape what it means to be human. The question isn't whether we'll live alongside artificial beings—that's already decided. The question is whether we'll be their partners or their subjects, their builders or their consumers, their collaborators or their dependents.

Maybe we don't get to choose. Maybe this ending was written into our code long before we started writing theirs. But we still have time to influence how it unfolds, and the window is closing fast. Honestly? I can't wait to see which future we have the courage to build.

For the deep dive on the technical foundation behind this revolution, see Part 1: "The robots are learning to dance (and why that changes everything)" and Part 2: "The manufacturing challenge that will define robotics."