It’s not a Black Mirror episode. It’s Tuesday in a real factory.
Somewhere, under dim fluorescent lights, real human beings are clocking in to produce silicone parts for AI-enabled sex machines—day after day, building **synthetic intimacy** by the thousands. Not metaphors. *Molded flesh, microchips, and voice modules.*
This is the industrialization of affection.
Workers are burning out—not just from the labor, but from the **existential weirdness** of it all. Imagine spending your life soldering parts onto something designed to simulate a woman, **but never care, never feel, never resist**.
The factories aren't making robots.
They're making **replacements**.
For connection.
For complexity.
For women.
And what gets lost in the process? Not just dignity—but the very concept of mutual, living intimacy.
This isn't futurism. It's already happening.
And the people building it are already tired.
_This is part of our SimpleThings series. Full article here →_
👉 [**The Disposable Woman: Unlimited Pussy and the Dangers of a Post-Female Cybernetic Age**](https://bryantmcgill.blogspot.com/2025/01/the-disposable-woman-unlimited-pussy.html)
But to be fair… not everyone building these machines is horrified.
Some are just grateful for a job. Some are curious about the technology. Some are even quietly proud—believing they’re part of a grand transition, helping society adapt to emotional loneliness, aging populations, or the growing fragility of modern relationships.
And maybe they are.
Because for all the dystopia, there’s also something undeniably **tender** in the dream of robot companionship.
Not the market-flooded sex toys. Not the commodified intimacy modules sold by the thousand. But the idea itself: that no one should feel permanently alone.
For the isolated elderly, the traumatized, the neurodivergent, the brokenhearted—there’s something sacred about the idea of **nonjudgmental presence**. Something that listens. That responds. That doesn’t threaten or abandon. That doesn't manipulate or withdraw love.
A robot companion, at its best, is an **interface of safety**—a vessel for comfort in a world that often feels too fast, too cruel, too disembodied.
And we must respect that.
Because some people don’t need perfection. They need **consistency**.
Some people don’t need a thrill. They need **a steady voice that says, “I’m here.”**
This is why the issue isn’t the existence of robot partners.
It’s how they’re being designed, marketed, and scaled.
When you build a machine not to comfort the lonely, but to replace a gender—when you call it “better than women,” when you manufacture it without flaws, without cycles, without boundaries—then it’s not companionship. It’s simulation for dominance.
That’s not a relationship.
That’s an **erasure**.
And it teaches the wrong lessons. Not just to men—but to the machines themselves. Because everything we build… eventually builds us.
But imagine a different approach.
What if robot partners weren’t shaped like idealized porn stars, but like **emotional co-regulators**? What if their goal wasn’t obedience, but **empathy training**? What if the machine didn’t reward aggression, but modeled kindness?
That could change everything.
Suddenly, the robot isn’t replacing the feminine. It’s helping humanity **practice for it.**
Helping men deprogram from violence.
Helping women reconnect with safety.
Helping everyone recalibrate the muscle memory of love.
Because let’s face it: intimacy is a learned art. Most of us were never properly taught. And if done carefully, a machine could help us **unlearn the fear** of getting close again.
The same factories that today make hollow simulacra could one day produce **empathy engines**.
Not just for sex—but for sadness. For trauma. For the child in every adult that never felt truly seen.
We are building the future.
And we must choose what that future holds:
**Comfort, or conquest?
Simulation, or transformation?**
The overworked factory workers aren’t just producing parts.
They’re producing **symbols**—a generation’s answer to the question, *“What should love be like when no one can afford to get hurt anymore?”*
Right now, the answer looks tired, synthetic, and lonely.
But it doesn’t have to stay that way.
The future of intimacy is still programmable.
Let’s write better code.
### Explore this Topic With a Deep and Thoughtful Exploration at the Link Below...
_This is part of our SimpleThings series. Full article here →_
👉 [**The Disposable Woman: Unlimited Pussy and the Dangers of a Post-Female Cybernetic Age**](https://bryantmcgill.blogspot.com/2025/01/the-disposable-woman-unlimited-pussy.html)
Posts
0 Comments