When the robot, Daneel Olivaw has his first real conversation with detective Elijah Baley, he describes the ideal relationship between men and robots in general as a C/Fe culture:

“..the chemical symbols for the elements carbon and iron, Elijah. Carbon is the basis of human life, and iron of robot life. It becomes easy to speak of Ce/Fe when you wish to describe a culture that combines the best of the two on an equal but parallel basis.” 1

This first, faint hint of what is to follow in the relationship between Daneel and Baley is unrecognisable as such because at this point, Elijah Baley, like the rest of his culture, hates robots. He is fearful, suspicious, hostile to that which he deems a machine that only serves to displace men from their rightful jobs. Daneel has been forced upon him by the authority of the Spacers 2 to help him in an investigation of the murder of a Spacer on Earth. As the Spacers regard Earth with distaste, even revulsion, no real relationship has ever existed between an Earthman and a Spacer. Until Daneel.

Isaac Asimov’s robot novels, The Caves of Steel, The Naked Sun, and The Robots of Dawn, are brilliantly conceived, richly detailed works which depict three distinct societies. Individually, they are science fiction mystery novels; collectively, they constitute a philosophy of friendship which transcends ontology, and examines the meaning of love. Each of the novels contributes a specific aspect to the development of the unique and absorbing relationship between man and robot.

The Caves of Steel, the first book in the series, describes Baley’s culture — Earth, 3000 years in the future, with its teeming population, enclosed Cities, and the fear of the Outside (open land outside the dome of the cities) shared by the planet’s 8 billion inhabitants. It is this novel which gives us Baley’s background, his psychology, cultural orientation, idiosyncrasies, personal habits and his rough morality.

The Naked Sun, which takes place on Solaria, a planet of neurotic, paranoic hermits who fear the proximity of any other living being and can only tolerate the presence of robots, portrays Baley as an individual. Freed from his own environment, Baley appears in sharper relief. His full personality, his thoughts, his internal struggle with his growing affection for Daneel, are examined, though not very deeply, against the action of the plot (another murder).

The third novel, The Robots of Dawn, links Baley and Daneel in a perfect balance of C/Fe, which is sporadically present in the other two novels, but always uneasy, never resolved. This is an exciting book. Not only does it imaginatively and painstakingly delineate an entire culture, but it deals with some fundamental issues of our own culture, not the least of which is the nature of love in a leisured and technical society. Baley loves Daneel.There is no question about this.

Accustomed as we are to using the word “love” to mean anything from a preference in vegetables (He loves broccoli) to romantic obsession (Juliette killed herself because she loved Romeo), it can still cause confusion in our culture when it is applied to a feeling between two males. Yet given the cornucopia of definitions, degrees of intensity, precedents and prolific usage of the word, it would seem to be as innocuous an application as any other. It is obvious that this is neither a romantic obsession, nor a mild preference. The nature of Baley’s love is like that for a true partner — perhaps even a asexual wife. (Although some may profess not to be able to “love” a wife if she were asexual [not my view], I think this definition comes closest to the kind of emotion Baley feels.)

Daneel is his partner, not his marriage partner, but a partner in that which appears to mean at least as much as his marriage to Baley: his work. Daneel is faithful, supportive, and witness to some of Baley’s most private emotions, and intimate feelings. He is a confidante, protector, admirer, and friend. In addition to this, he has been conditioned to put Baley’s welfare above all else. And there is the added mystique, and personal frisson for Baley of having elicited enormous positive response from a being who is supposed to have no emotions. Subconsciously at least, Baley must recognize the magnitude of having overcome even technology with his personal appeal. Daneel makes his feelings for Baley known at every appropriate opportunity. Baley by contrast is not aware that he loves Daneel.

To the reader, it is obvious. It is less so to Baley, who is a victim of his own culture. To some extent, this is because almost 30 years passed between the writing of the second novel and the third one. In 1983, it was possible to write of love between men (or in this case, males, for Daneel has been programmed as a male entity) in a way that was perhaps less possible in 1954. Or it may simply be that The Robots of Dawn is deliberately designed to demonstrate the growing bond between man and robot as a natural sequence of events, which could not fully develop until sufficient experience had been shared. In any case, there are no fewer than 26 significant (and several more minor) direct references to the deepening connection between Baley and Daneel in The Robots of Dawn, and fewer than five in each of the other two novels.

In the trilogy, the evolution of the relationship emerges very slowly. In the first novel, Baley simply hates robots, which he regards as interlopers of no social or any other value — mere machines, who usurp people’s jobs. After he meets Daneel, who does not resemble the robots to which Baley has been accustomed, he continues to hate robots, mentally excepting Daneel from his hostility because Daneel appears humanoid. By the end of the novel, his views have modified, but only slightly. He can accept the idea of robots, because of Daneel. He begins, in fact, to question whether or not it matters if intelligence is encased in a carbon base unit or an iron based one. For Baley, this thought is the beginning of a new world.

The second novel, The Naked Sun presents an antithesis. On a mission on Solaria, where the robot/human population is 50,000 to 1, Baley (again with Daneel) confronts a world of robots, less developed than Daneel, but capable of serving their entirely dependent masters all too well. (see footnote 2) Because of his contempt for these “masters” and because his own culture influences him, Baley fights his feelings for Daneel. He is ashamed and suspicious of his own affection, and particularly distraught about his dependence on his old partner.

The Spacer spoke.”Partner Elijah!”Baley’s head turned toward the speaker with a jerk. His eyes rounded and he rose almost without volition. He stared at the broad, high cheekbones, the absolute calm of the facial lines, the symmetry of the body, most of all that level look out of nerveless blue eyes.

“D-Daneel!”… He had an almost unbearable desire to rush to the Spacer and embrace him, to hug him wildly, and laugh and pound his back and do all the foolish things old friends did when meeting again after a separation.But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He could only step forward, hold out a hand and say, “I’m not likely to forget you, Daneel.”…

Baley hoped earnestly that the creature’s unreadable eyes could not penetrate Baley’s mind and see that wild moment just past and not entirely subdued when all of Baley had concentrated into a feeling of intense friendship that was almost love. After all, one could not love as friend this Daneel Olivaw, who was not a man at all, but only a robot. 3

This reaction is mirrored in The Robots of Dawn, when Baley again meets Daneel unexpectedly. But this time, he has no hesitation in demonstrating his feelings:

He turned, and because he thoroughly expected to see R. Giskard, he was aware at first only of someone who was not R. Giskard. It took a blink or two to realise that he saw a thoroughly human shape, with a broad, high cheek-boned face and with short bronze hair lying flatly backward, someone dressed in clothing with a conservative cut and color scheme.

“Jehoshaphat!” said Baley in a nearly strangled voice.

“Partner Elijah,” said the other, stepping forward, a small, grave smile on his face.

“Daneel!” cried Baley, throwing his arms around the robot and hugging tightly.”Daneel!” 4

Exactly why Baley has come to regard Daneel with such deep affection is never fully explained. As is sometimes the case in human relationships, one moment, it is not there; the next moment, it is. Asimov leaves room for some speculation. In fact, there is a curious leap from the first book to the third, in this regard. The last sentence in The Caves of Steel is: “Baley, suddenly smiling, took R. Daneel’s elbow, and they walked out the door, arm in arm.” But there is little sense of this unity in The Naked Sun . Apart from Baley’s initial impulse to embrace Daneel, this novel suspends the relationship theme to a large extent, and concentrates on Baley’s character.

How the relationship develops is a different matter, and a consistent theme throughout the trilogy. Baley can maintain his persistent affection for Daneel only by equally persistent internal denial that Daneel is a robot: “He felt… annoyed, oddly enough at Daneel’s sentences. It seemed to him that such needlessly formal sentence structure might easily betray the robotic nature of the creature.” 5

Baley, in fact fluctuates wildly between regarding Daneel as a robot, and regarding him as a Spacer. In Baley’s world, (Earth) robots are despicable machines, and Spacers are demigods.

On Earth there was the continuous acceptance of Spacers at the Spacers’ own evaluation, The Spacers were the unquestioned lords of the Galaxy; they were tall, bronze of skin and hair, handsome, large, cool, aristocratic. In short, they were all R. Daneel Olivaw was, but with the fact of humanity in addition. 6

By the beginning of The Robots of Dawn, Baley’s conflict is intense:

The door opened again at that point and R. Giskard walked in. There was no mistaking R. Giskard as a robot and its presence emphasized, somehow, the robotism of Daneel (R. Daneel, Baley suddenly thought again), even though Daneel was far the superior of the two. Baley didn’t want the robotism of Daneel emphasized; he didn’t want himself humiliated for his inability to regard Daneel as anything but a human being with a somewhat stilted way with the language. 7

Baley continues to maintain an emotional resistance to Daneel’s “robotism” even when it is painfully clear, until at one point, when Daneel tells him that he would sacrifice his existence for Baley’s safety, Baley slips out of his emotional dilemma and is able to transcend categories, and see Daneel as neither robot nor man, but simply as Daneel.

“…I am prepared to be destroyed to protect you.”

Baley felt abashed. He said, “You do not resent the situation in which you may be forced to give up your existence for me?”

“It is my programming, Partner Elijah,” said Daneel in a voice that seemed to soften, “yet somehow it seems to me that, even were it not for my programming, saving you makes the loss of my own existence seem quite trivial in comparison.”

Baley could not resist this. He held out his hand and closed it on Daneel’s in a fierce grip. “Thank you, Partner Daneel, but please do not allow it to happen. I do not wish the loss of your existence. The preservation of my own would be inadequate compensation, it seems to me.”

And Baley was amazed to discover that he really meant it. He was faintly horrified to realize that he would be ready to risk his life for a robot. — No, not for a robot. For Daneel. 8

This is the turning point in the relationship. For although Daneel has been programmed to protect him, it is evident: a) that this programming gives him “pleasure;” b) that despite his programming, he has come to regard Baley as a friend out of personal choice; and c) that Baley’s feelings proceed from Baley, and are not dependent solely on reciprocity (much as people love their pets who may or may not “love” them back, at least not in the same way). Asimov demonstrates throughout the novel that Daneel is endowed with some free choice and with some kind of feeling:

“You feel emotion, do you?” said Baley lightly.

“I cannot say what I feel in any human sense, Partner Elijah. I can say however that the sight of you seems to make my thoughts flow more easily, and the gravitational pull on my body seems to assault my senses with lesser insistence and there are other changes I can identify. I imagine that what I sense corresponds in a rough way to what it is that you may sense when you feel pleasure.” 9

It is interesting to note in this regard that when Baley is lost, Daneel behaves in a most “feeling” manner. Gladia, who is an expert in giving orders to robots, cannot get Daneel to follow her orders when they concern Baley:

“I set right about securing Daneel, but he wouldn’t budge until I had promised to send Giskard after you. He was very eloquent. His responses with respect to you are very intense, Elijah. 10

At one point, Baley speculates on the difference between human and robot feelings or responses and concludes that they may be different, but that one is not more authentic than the other:

Baley thought absently: The First Law drives him. He surely suffered as much in his way as I suffered in mine when I collapsed and he didn’t foresee it in time. A forbidden imbalance of positronic potentials may have no meaning to me, but it may produce in him the same discomfort and the same reaction as acute pain would to me. 11

When Baley realises that he would risk his life to save Daneel (which in fact he does, later in the novel), he has come to a turning point. Although this occurs early in The Robots of Dawn, it must be remembered that it has taken two novels and three years (almost thirty in writing time) to get to this recognition. From this point onward, Baley begins to care less and less that the object of his love is not human. This of course, has repercussions on his relations with the other Spacers he meets, and in particular, the less humaniform, but secretly powerful robot, Giskard. Because he no longer has to resent Giskard for being in Daneel’s “category”, he begins to accept Giskard as a companion, a thinking entity, which in turn, allows him to solve the mystery for which he was sent to Aurora in the first place. Daneel has again proved invaluable, even as a catalyst.

Although this climax of the plot occurs much later, (and in several layers) the emotional apex of the story comes when Baley faces a hostile and potentially dangerous opponent. In this situation, Giskard, when questioned, states that he would protect Baley above all others, because he is programmed to do so, and Daneel, who has not been asked, speaks of his own volition:

“If that is not enough, Dr. Vasilia, I, too, would place Partner Elijah’s welfare above yours.”

Vasilia looked at Daneel with bitter curiosity. “Partner Elijah? Is that what you call him?

“Yes, Dr. Vasilia. My choice in this matter — the Earthman over you — arises not only out of Dr. Falstofe’s instructions, but because the Earthman and I are partners in this investigation and because — “ Daneel paused as though puzzled by what he was about to say, and then said it anyway,” — we are friends.”

Vasilia said “Friends? An Earthman and a humaniform robot? Well, there is a match. Neither quite human.”

Baley said, sharply, “Nevertheless bound by friendship. Do not, for your own sake, test the force of our -” Now it was he who paused, and as though to his own surprise, completed the sentence impossibly, “ — love.” 12

This confession, or profession of his true feelings for Daneel, and Daneel’s for him, leave Baley with no further conflict. In a sense, he is free to resume the plot as it were, to take up the business which appears to be the central action of the novel. He is no longer distracted by internal conflict, wondering whether or not it is possible to love a robot. He knows it is. He has just said so.

Although these words of love, loyalty, friendship are moving and intense, the significance of this passage does not lie in them. What is far more riveting, and satisfying to the reader of all three novels, is the fact that they have both spoken them. If there is a difference between sentient beings, Daneel and Baley have bridged it. They have demonstrated that, whatever the form, the content may be the same. They have begun, at least on this point, to think alike, a significant step toward being alike, and in their willingness to accept that fact, have come close to that perfect, harmonious balance of C/Fe. 13

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Notes

*This essay was written about the classic Elijah Baley trilogy, The Caves of Steel, The Naked Sun, The Robots of Dawn, and Robots and Empire. Subsequent books involving Daneel are Robots and Empire, Prelude to Foundation, Forward the Foundation, and Foundation and Earth [as well as the short story “Mirror Image”].

1 The Caves of Steel, by Isaac Asimov, pg. 50

2 The Spacers are inhabitants of planets colonised by Earthpeople, several centuries before. The disclaim their origin in all but fact, and are the undisputed authority in the Galaxy.

3 The Naked Sun, by Isaac Asimov, pg. 14

4 The Robots of Dawn, by Isaac Asimov, pg.29

5 The Naked Sun, pg. 21

6 Ibid

7 Ibid

8 Ibid, pg 49

9 Ibid, pg 209

10 Ibid, pg 328

11 Ibid, pg 61

12 Ibid, pg 209

13. …the unconscious desire for which began the third novel and would eventuate in the fifth.