Thursday, February 20, 2020

Robots and 2020 Japan


What the world can learn from Japan’s robots

Japan is rolling out robots in nursing homes, offices and schools as its population ages and workforce shrinks. What can it teach other countries facing the same problems?
Japan is changing: a rapidly ageing society, a record-breaking influx of visitors from overseas, and more robots than ever. That's where the country's young people come in. Gen J, a new series by BBC Worklife, keeps you up to speed on how the nation's next generation is shaping the Japan of tomorrow.
At a sleek office building in Shinagawa, Tokyo, workers are strolling in and out for lunch. As they walk through the glass doors, they pass two security guards, each dutifully flanking the passage in stern silence. It all seems pretty unremarkable, until you realise one of those security guards is a robot.
Standing up to five feet tall with wheels and a blue police cap, “his” name is Ugo. His battery lasts up to half a work day, and every two hours he’ll do a routine patrol around the building – even summoning lifts by pushing the call button himself. His digital “face” – which usually displays two big blue cartoony eyes – is replaced with the Japanese text for “on duty”.
“It’s important for the robot to feel cute, so you’re not intimidated,” says Ken Matsui, CEO of Mira Robotics, the start-up behind Ugo. Right now, the police bot – whose built-in camera allows guards downstairs to see things from the robot’s point of view – is one of only two prototypes in the country. But Matsui says companies in China and South Korea are interested in his company's work, which also includes cleaning robots for use in houses and schools.

This robot mascot for Tokyo's 2020 Summer Olympics was unveiled by Toyota last year. The car giant will also reveal human assistance robots during the Games (Credit: Getty Images)
In recent years, headlines, pundits and politicians have often warned that we’re in the midst of a job-stealing robot revolution; but roboticists argue that their creations will complement, rather than replace, us. In Japan, the robots are already here – what’s more, many are actively embracing the robot age, from suburban nursing homes to the highest levels of government, which announced an investment of 100bn yen ($100m) in robot development a few years ago. Some entities are even highlighting robotic colleagues as a selling point to young, new recruits.
As the Tokyo 2020 Olympics approach – an arena for companies like Toyota to show off new humanoid robots that will interact with guests and help athletes on the field – the world’s attention is turned to Japan. And for good reason: amid fast global ageing and increased automation, it could be that Japan’s robot-friendly present is everyone else’s future.

This police robot acts as eyes and ears for human officers in a different room. Countries like China and South Korea have expressed interest in such tech (Credit: Bryan Lufkin)
New technology, ageing population
In Tokyo’s Silver Wing nursing home, about two dozen seniors are sitting in the common area as pudding cups are distributed. In the middle of the room is a staff member and a humanoid robot named Pepper, who is leading the room in group games and exercises.
Pepper's hosting a game of "guess the kanji", as a big screen shows super-magnified parts of Chinese characters that the crowd have to identify aloud. Many of the residents are dementia patients.
“We ask residents with dementia where they are and who they are in natural conversation with communication robots and human staff,” says Kimiya Ishikawa, director of Silver Wing. “It’s hard [for humans compared to robots] to remember each resident’s personal information, so robots are utilised [to help] in that area.”

Japan is facing major demographic challenges due to the elderly wave, low fertility rates and a shrinking population – Roger A Søraa

But it’s not only in the common room that robotics is being employed. Upstairs, staff have access to robotic exoskeletons that fit around the waist and lower back: these apparatuses ease the severe body strain as they help their elderly clients get in and out of bed. (Some studies have shown that over 80% of nurses in Japan experience lower back problems.)
“Japan is facing major demographic challenges due to the elderly wave, low fertility rates and a shrinking population. This leads to a number of issues facing Japanese society which the West can learn from,” says Roger A Søraa, robotics researcher at Centre for Technology and Society in Norway. “Elderly care facilities and hospitals see a severe lack of healthcare workers; there are not enough humans to do the tasks the way they used to be done.”
Kayoko Fujimoto, chairperson of trustees for the Ryusei Fukushikai Social Welfare Foundation, runs a nursing home in Hyogo prefecture, about 100km southwest of Kyoto. Last year she wrote a bestselling book seeking to reinvent the image of nursing home work, and she thinks robots can help.
At the Hyogo nursing home, staff have rolled out several robots that have been big hits with residents, like Paro the talking, fuzzy baby seal bot, which was developed a decade ago. Residents love to play with him because he’s cute, and the staff love him because he’s clean, doesn’t require food and no one’s allergic to him.

Critics call the Telenoid robot creepy, but government officials from around the world have visited this nursing home to see how it helps dementia patients (Credit: Bryan Lufkin)
One of the most popular additions is Telenoid: a baby-like robot with no legs and tiny arms. A staff member in a different room talks through the robot, and the voice comes out of its mouth. Some publications have criticised Telenoid as being creepy, but Fujimoto and her staff say it’s beloved by the residents.
One resident, a woman with dementia, holds a Telenoid as 27-year-old staff member Minami Okabe, down the hall, sings a Japanese folk song into a headset. The smiling resident holds Telenoid like a baby and says, “Let’s sing a song again”. The staff say that this particular patient is usually very quiet, but not with the robot. “It’s fun, seeing them react like that,” says Okabe, who’s worked at the nursing home for five years. “They react differently to the robots than they do to us.”
Telenoid was developed by Osaka University’s Hiroshi Ishiguro, the roboticist who made international headlines when he created his own android doppelgänger. He’s a celebrity in Japan, and he’s not the only high-profile tech entity Fujimoto’s worked with: there’s also Panasonic, NTT Docomo (Japan’s main mobile phone operator) and Daiwa House, Japan’s largest homebuilder. “In Japan, the speed of an ageing society is faster than in other countries, [so] the government is promoting developing robots,” says Fuijimoto. “We want to help as an experimental facility.”
Working in nursing homes, she says, has not traditionally been seen as an attractive job. Her hope is that talented young people will see how she is using new technology – from big, recognisable tech companies – and be enticed into this line of work. That was the case for Okabe, who read about how the home was using Telenoid in a leaflet. “There are many people, including students, who come here to see this,” she says.

Hiroshi Ishiguro, famous for creating a robot doppelganger of himself, is one of many that say the robotic solutions in Japan will soon apply everywhere (Credit: Bryan Lufkin)

Japan is quite domestic-oriented, and we don’t accept many immigrants, so robots are more suitable – Ken Matsui

‘Automation, not immigration’
Still, whether Japan will lead a ‘robots in the workforce’ revolution remains unclear. Rian Whitton, senior robotics analyst at global tech market advisory firm ABI Research, says that robot deployment in places like nursing homes is low in practice and that Japan’s recently eased rules for low-wage migrant workers show that the government knows widespread automation isn’t yet possible.
He also points out that China and the US, for example, are quickly catching up to Japan in areas like homecare robotics. “Ultimately, Japan is going to go from the top vendor for robotics globally, as it used to be, to being a relatively strong player alongside Germany, South Korea, Singapore and Taiwan,” he says. “[Japan] will lose influence relative to the Chinese and American robotics ecosystems.”
In fact, in one report released by the International Federation of Robotics last year, South Korea, not Japan, had the most industrial robots – manufacturing robots that assemble electronics and vehicles, for example – already in the workforce, with Germany not far behind. Plus, South Korea, like Japan, is also rapidly ageing, meaning local robotics companies are gearing products towards the demographic changes.
Yet in Japan’s favour is its very long history of embracing robots, not fearing them. In the West, pop culture and media often frame robots as job-stealing Terminators itching to start a revolution. In Japan, they’re often cute and cuddly; anime and manga have depicted robots as things to love. Others point to a respect for inanimate objects that’s rooted in Shintosim.
Another factor is ingrained resistance to immigration, despite the recent moves to allow more foreign workers in. As Japan’s workforce ages and shrinks, employers will struggle to fill low-wage jobs in retail or food service, for example. That’s prompted domestic calls to embrace robotics, with headlines like “Graying Japan wants automation, not immigration.”

Pepper, a robot created by tech giant Softbank first released in 2015, leads a game in a nursing home. Such robots still aren't commonplace, however (Credit: Bryan Lufkin)
One area that needs workers is housekeeping services. With more pensioners and fewer workers, demand for in-house caregivers and cleaners is on the rise. That’s why Mira Robotics has also created a butler robot that can do simple tasks like wash dishes, fold clothes and vacuum, which are actually quite complex tasks for a robot.
"In other countries, like Hong Kong, the solution is to have more immigrants, but it’s not a perfect solution,” says Mira’s Matsui. “Japan is quite domestic-oriented, and we don’t accept many immigrants, so robots are more suitable."
Many of these robots – Ugo, Telenoid and others – can be used or monitored by humans from a remote location. That makes it possible for elderly or disabled individuals – people who might otherwise be excluded from the workforce – to command such robots, or even someone in a different city.

Not just Japan will have more robots, but the whole world – Hiroshi Ishiguro

Normal, like smartphones
Looking forward, Silver Wing’s Ishikawa says that major research is going into making social robots that can detect – and predict – healthcare changes in people. For example, the robots that record conversations to help human caregivers track a dementia patient’s progress could soon also monitor vital signs and, using AI, compare that data to a symptoms database, extract correlations and calculate the risk of a condition worsening.
Hiroshi Ishiguro, the Osaka University roboticist, says we’ll see other cute, communicative robots in places like hotel rooms or restaurants (where touch-screen menus are already commonplace in Japan) to assist guests in other languages. Meanwhile, government initiatives continue: last year, robots began to be rolled out in 500 classrooms across Japan to help teach English after a 250m yen ($2.3m) investment from the Education Ministry.
That could, in turn, help Japan’s younger generation grow up at ease with robots in a variety of environments. Ishiguro believes that they will integrate into our lives the same way smartphones did a decade ago. “Not just Japan will have more robots, but the whole world,” he predicts.
Whitton agrees, though he says the timescale is not yet clear. “I see all major economies adopting industrial policies related to robotics and other technologies in line with what China and Japan have been doing for decades,” he says.
Additional reporting by Yoko Ishitani and Mari Murakami.

Xia Peisu The computer pioneer who built modern China




The computer pioneer who built modern China

Isolated from the rest of the world, one woman pushed computing from a geeky obsession into a transformative industry.

19th February 2020
In April 1960, China’s first home-grown electronic digital general purpose computer – the Model 107 – went live. Xia Peisu, the machine’s engineer and designer, had just made history.
After decades of war with Japan and the Chinese Civil War in the first half of the 20th Century, the country’s technological innovation had fallen behind much of the developed world. Later, caught in the politics of the Cold War, the newly established People’s Republic of China was cut off from aid and exports from capitalist nations in the West. Chinese scientists relied heavily on hardware and expertise from the Soviet Union to build up their computing power.
But when that relationship dissolved in 1959, China was once again isolated and it had to look inward for a way forward in an increasingly computerised world. Within a year of the Soviet Union withdrawing aid, Xia delivered the 107 – China’s first step on the road to independence in computing.
Today, China is a global leader in computer production. In 2011, China surpassed the US to become the world’s leading market for PCs, and the desktop PC segment of their computer industry alone is projected to bring in a revenue of over $6.4bn (£4.9bn) this year.
But there was more work to be done than making computers. To build a new computer industry – and a new field of computer science to support that industry – China needed trained personnel. Here, too, Xia was essential.
She helped shape some of China’s first computing and computer science institutions and developed their training materials. She taught the first computer theory class in the country. Over her career, she would usher hundreds of students into the country’s burgeoning field of computer science.
In the aftermath of war and political upheaval, Xia shaped a new field of science and a new industry in China. Through both her technological innovations and the many students she taught, Xia‘s influence resonates throughout China’s computing world today.
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Born into a family of educators in the south-eastern municipality of Chongqing on 28 July 1923, Xia rarely went without an education. First attending primary school aged four and receiving private home tutelage at eight, she went on to excel at Nanyu Secondary School and graduated top of her high school class at National No. Nine in 1940.


Xia Peisu’s home of Chongqing, China during a Japanese airstrike in 1940 (Credit: Getty Images)

China was in the throes of the Second Sino-Japanese War, an eight-year conflict that ravaged China and claimed the lives of millions of Chinese civilians. At the war’s onset in 1937, the Japanese captured Nanjing, the capital city of the Republic of China. Xia’s home of Chongqing became a haven for Nanjing refugees. It also became home to National Central University – an institution which, despite forced relocation from Nanjing, kept teaching students. In 1941, Xia joined as a student in electrical engineering.
Xia graduated with a bachelor’s degree in electrical engineering in 1945. The same year she met Nanjing war refugee and fellow National Central alumnus Yang Liming, now a professor of physics at the university. They started and maintained a relationship even after Xia left for Shanghai for graduate studies at the Telecommunications Institute of Jiaotong University and Yang left to study under Nobel laureate Max Born at the University of Edinburgh.
Two years later, Xia reunited with Yang when she began to study for her doctorate in electrical engineering at the University of Edinburgh. In her dissertation, “On Parametric Oscillations in Electric Circuits and A Graphical Analysis for Non-Linear Systems”, she developed methodologies that could more accurately predict variations in frequency and amplitude within electronic systems, which led to wide-reaching applications for any system with an electrical frequency, from radios to TV to computers.
Xia Peisu would go on from a PhD in electrical engineering to designing China’s first home-grown electronic digital general purpose computer (Credit: Wikimedia Commons)

In 1950, she was awarded her PhD. Later that same year, she and Yang married in Edinburgh. Both scientifically-minded and deeply invested in putting those minds to work in their home country, the couple returned to China in 1951. They both took up positions at Tsinghua University (now Quinghua University), where Xia worked on telecommunications research.

The China that she and Yang returned to, however, was a changed one.
In 1949, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) had prevailed over the Kuomintang party (Chinese Nationalist Party) in the Chinese Civil War, driving the Republic of China to Taiwan and replacing it with People’s Republic of China led by Mao Zedong. In the wake of the Second Sino-Japanese War and the transfer of political parties, China’s economy, industry, and infrastructure was languishing and lagging behind many Western nations.
The Second Sino-Japanese War had hit the country particularly hard. “In essence, all institutions of higher learning, all centres of finance, the main centre of industrial production and the government of China has fled, first to the city of Wuhan, and then after Wuhan [was] lost, to the city of Chongqing in [the] more remote and much poorer area of Sichuan,” says Tom Mullaney, historian at Stanford University and author of the forthcoming book The Chinese Computer. “[The government of China is] basically living a kind of survival existence, but it’s definitely not in any kind of position to invest in electrical engineering, weapon design, and so forth.”
When the CCP came to power, they attempted to rebuild the lost infrastructure, but it wasn’t easy. The US had supported the defeated Kuomintang party in the Chinese Civil War, and they, along with other capitalist nations in the West, denied the newly formed communist country assistance and exports. Mao and the CCP turned to their Soviet neighbours to the north. Seeing an opportunity to bring China into the communist block in the East, the Soviet Union entered into a partnership with China, agreeing to assist China in bolstering its economy, science and technology, including computing.

In 1950, the USSR and China joined an alliance, a relationship that would directly impact China’s computing industry (Credit: Getty Images)
Xia became intricately tied to Sino-Soviet partnership when, in 1953, mathematician Hua Luogeng visited her place of work at Tsinghua University and recruited her into his computer research group at the Chinese Academy of Sciences (CAS). She was now one of the three founding members of China’s first computer research group. The CAS would become ground zero for computing technology and research and Xia would be at its centre.
Even though Luogeng’s and Xia’s research group had been developing plans of their own to design electronic computers for three years, the CCP didn’t adopt an official in this area of technology until 1956, with the formalisation of the Sino-Soviet agreement “Long-term Protocol for Developing National Sciences and Technology between 1956 and 1967” – also known as the 12-year plan. Together with Soviet experts, the CCP and the CAS identified computing technology as one of four fields in science and technology key to building up China’s national defense.
An electronic computer would have wide-reaching applications in support of China’s infrastructure and national defense, including development and testing of nuclear weapons, management of large-scale complex transportation systems and development of a satellite program or space program, says Mullaney. “All of these things, and more, were domains in which other powers – the Soviet Union, the US, Great Britain and later France – were developing electronic computing in support of. And China knew that it needed to be able to enter that space if it was going to become competitive on the global stage, economically and militarily.”
China had a long way to go before they could produce a computer. For one, rather than having a single field of computer science, the industry’s fundamental parts were spread out over mathematics, engineering and physics. These would need to be consolidated and then taught to a workforce before a computer could be built.
With her knowledge of electronics and mathematics, Xia was an ideal choice for this part of the plan.

With her knowledge of electronics and mathematics, Xia was an ideal choice

In 1956, she joined a delegation to Moscow and Leningrad to explore Soviet research, production and education in computing. When she returned that same year, she undertook translation of Soviet computer design from Russian into Chinese, including a 1,000-page manual that became the course text for teaching Chinese students Soviet computing.
That same year, under the auspices of the CAS’s Institute of Mathematics and Institute of Physics, Xia taught the country’s first computer theory class. She also helped the CAS in its first major step in establishing a computer science department with the Institute of Computer Technology (ICT). The ICT was quickly followed by the CAS’s founding of the University of Science and Technology. Xia was involved in developing the computer science courses at both institutions, and as a course developer and lecturer, she oversaw the training of hundreds of students between 1956 and 1962.
 “What [China] needed above all was a training program,” Mullaney notes. Xia gave them one.
By 1959, China had succeeded in replicating two Soviet electronic computer designs; the 103 model and the 104 model, each based on the Soviet M-3 and BESM-II computers respectively. But just as China began making progress in producing computers, the Sino-Soviet relationship was in dissolution. The two countries’ leaders sparred over whose nation was the centre of the communist world and whose path to global communism was the right one.
The relationship had become so bad by 1960 that the Soviet Union withdrew all support, both material and advisorial, from China, says Mullaney. After the Soviets withdrew, many other countries assumed that China’s computing industry just stopped.
It didn’t.

Far from stopping after the 1960 USSR withdrawal of support, China’s computing industry continued to advance (Credit: Getty Images)

CAS researchers continued to pursue computing technology and computer science on their own. Xia’s 107 model was the first computer that China developed after Soviet withdrawal, and unlike the 103 and 104 models based on Soviet design, the 107 was the first indigenously designed and developed computer in China. The 107 was soon reproduced and installed in training institutions around China.
Throughout the 1960s, China continued to develop more powerful and sophisticated computers at the CAS in isolation, progressing from tube circuits like that of the 107 to transistors and, in the 70s and early 80s, to integrated circuits. When a delegation of US computer scientists visited China in 1972, they didn’t expect to find China’s computer industry humming along. “All of the members of that delegation, in the few testimonials we have, all express surprise at how far [China had come],” Mullaney says.
Throughout this time, Xia continued a balance of research and development in high processing speed computers and training new computer scientists and engineers. In 1978, Xia helped found the Chinese Journal of Computers as well as the Journal of Computer Science and Technology, the first English-language journal for computing in the country. And in 1981, she developed a high-speed processor array called the 150AP. Compared to the earlier Soviet-based model 104 that performed 10,000 operations per second, her 150AP boosted a computer’s operations to 20 million per second.

Due in large part to Xia, computer science coalesced into an independent field of study in China and the country’s computer industry emerged despite a tumultuous beginning. “In terms of someone who held her position and was such a central actor in a leadership role, I have not come across other women of her stature at that time,” Mullaney says.

By the 1970s, China had developed powerful, sophisticated computers with integrated circuits (Credit: Getty Images)

Although her design of the 107 made history, it was Xia’s founding of institutions and cultivation of cohort after cohort of students that ultimately made China’s future. “Those are students who… would lay groundwork for what we see today,” says Mullaney.
One of those students later became the chief architect of Loongson CPUs, and in 2002, he personally honored his mentor by naming the processing chip of China’s first CPU computer “Xia 50”.
Dubbed in China the “Mother of Chinese Computing”, Xia is still recognised as a founding member of the country’s computer industry. The China Computer Federation awards the Xia-Peisu Award annually to women scientist and engineers “who have made outstanding contributions and achievements in the computing science, engineering, education and industry”. Chen Zuoning and Huan Lingyi received the award most recently in 2019: Chen for her work in developing domestic high-performance computing systems and Huan for her research in CPUs and other core computer devices. Continuing along the path Xia charted for them, Chen and Huan have strengthened China’s domestic computer technology.
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Missed Genius
Ask people to imagine a scientist, and many of us will picture the same thing – a heterosexual white male. Historically, a number of challenges have made it much more difficult for those who don’t fit that stereotype to enter fields like science, math or engineering.
There are, however, many individuals from diverse backgrounds who have shaped our understanding of life and the Universe, but whose stories have gone untold – until now. With our new BBC Future column, we are celebrating the “missed geniuses” who made the world what it is today.

Portrait of Xia Peisu by Emmanuel Lafont.