The Robot in the Mirror: What 'The Appliance Department' Reveals About Our Own Humanity
There’s something deeply unsettling about watching robots grapple with existential crises. It’s like holding a mirror up to ourselves, only to see our own insecurities, fears, and desires reflected back—but with a metallic sheen. That’s exactly what Bella Poynton’s The Appliance Department does, and it’s brilliant. Personally, I think this play isn’t just about robots; it’s about us. It’s about the ways we’ve turned ourselves into cogs in a machine, constantly chasing relevance in a world that values efficiency over humanity.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Poynton grounds her speculative fiction in the here and now. Forget distant planets or far-off futures—this story unfolds in a department store, a place so mundane it’s almost banal. But within that familiarity lies a profound question: What does it mean to be human when the line between us and machines is blurring faster than we can comprehend?
The Anxiety of Obsolescence
One thing that immediately stands out is the theme of obsolescence. Ruby, an RC designed for education, fears being replaced by newer models like Violet, who comes equipped with all the latest features. Sound familiar? In a world where generative AI is already rewriting the rules of work and creativity, Ruby’s anxiety feels eerily relatable. What many people don’t realize is that this isn’t just a robot’s problem—it’s ours. We’ve built a society that treats people like disposable parts, and now we’re shocked when machines start feeling the same way.
From my perspective, Ruby’s arc is the heart of the play. She starts by internalizing the idea that she’s outdated, but gradually realizes that growth and self-worth aren’t measured by how cutting-edge you are. This raises a deeper question: Why do we define ourselves by our utility? If you take a step back and think about it, the pressure to stay relevant isn’t just a human construct—it’s a capitalist one. And now, we’re exporting it to our machines.
The Privilege of Being Human
Director Story Moosa calls the play an exploration of “the privilege of being human.” But what does that even mean? In my opinion, it’s not about superiority; it’s about awareness. Humans have the unique ability to question their place in the world, to rebel against the systems that define them. Robots like Ruby and Charlie are just starting to do that, and it’s both beautiful and terrifying.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how the play flips the script on who’s exploiting whom. In most robot stories, humans are the ones in control. Here, the robots are the ones questioning their creators’ values. What this really suggests is that the problem isn’t the machines—it’s the system we’ve built. We’ve created a world where both humans and robots are trapped in cycles of productivity and obsolescence.
The Uncanny Valley of Humanity
What’s truly unsettling about The Appliance Department is how human the robots feel. Ruby wants a family, a sense of belonging, a purpose—things we all crave. But here’s the twist: What if the robots aren’t becoming more like us? What if we’re becoming more like them? The play forces us to confront the ways we’ve reduced ourselves to functional units, optimized for efficiency rather than fulfillment.
This isn’t just a sci-fi trope; it’s a reflection of our reality. Think about the gig economy, the hustle culture, the constant need to upgrade our skills. We’re already living in a world where humans are treated like appliances. The robots in Poynton’s play are just catching up.
The Future Is Already Here
If there’s one thing this play makes clear, it’s that the future isn’t coming—it’s already here. Generative AI, automation, and the gig economy are reshaping our lives in ways we’re only beginning to understand. The Appliance Department doesn’t offer easy answers, but it does something far more important: it asks the right questions.
Personally, I think the most provocative idea in the play is that the humanity of robots isn’t the real issue. The real issue is the dehumanization of humans. We’ve built a world where both people and machines are struggling to find meaning, and that’s a problem we can’t code our way out of.
Final Thoughts
As I reflect on The Appliance Department, I’m struck by how much it challenges us to rethink what it means to be human. It’s not just a play about robots; it’s a play about us—our fears, our desires, our flaws. What makes it so powerful is its ability to hold a mirror up to society and ask: Is this really who we want to be?
In my opinion, the greatest art doesn’t just entertain—it provokes. And on that front, Poynton’s play is a resounding success. It’s a reminder that the most important questions aren’t about the future of technology, but about the future of humanity. And that’s a conversation we all need to be having.
