All Hands Raised Up

Mark Jackson, the CIO of a defense contractor robotics company, dressed in a suit while standing on a makeshift stage behind a podium. He cleared his throat, straightened his tie, drank a sip of water, and then spoke into a microphone to a floor of employees:

"Many of you have worked with me for over 20 years, so I'm going to skip the BS and be 100% transparent here. Based on recent emergency changes to federal labor laws, as a matter of national security, you're all being laid off for a new robotic workforce …"

The workers booed and jeered.

Senior manager, John Francis, stood up—"But sir, many of us may never find another job!"

"Well, John, we do have a new so-called 'transhumanist' research department. We're seeking volunteers. If you wish to transplant yourself into a robot—your brain will remain the same. In fact, in some ways, the human mind is still much more malleable than even our best AI …"

"What's the catch?" shouted a female voice.

"Marsha? Is that you? Well, obviously, you won't have a human body, but you could theoretically live forever, especially if you choose to upload your consciousness before mental decay."

"We'd become freaks!" blurted out Franklin Watson, a young intern.

"Not so, Franklin. We've advanced them enough to the point where you can experience all of your five senses, only greatly enhanced. And, you'd look identical, or better if you so choose …"

The workers all whispered, nodded, and mumbled to one another.

Mark stepped up to the front of the stage — "Who's interested? Give me a show of hands."

All hands raised up.