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The Automation Reversal

• Peter Liam

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0:00 | 11:30
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Title The Automation Reversal. Author Peter Liam The Box 2050. Synopsis. When factory worker Benny Clark spends his modest tax refund on a second-hand humanoid robot, he only hopes to get a little help on the job. Instead, Optimus learns fast, too fast. Soon, Benny's robot is outperforming him, earning promotions, and even launching a construction business in his name. Freed from labor but trapped in idleness, Benny watches his machines build an empire while he fills the void with Pokemon cards and cups of instant coffee. A comic fable of automation and human laziness, the automation reversal asks, When robots learn to work better than us, what will we do with all our free time? The automation reversal. Benny Clark had grease under his fingernails and dreams under his cap. For 10 years he'd worked the same gray line at the Vickers manufacturing plant, tightening valve assemblies that powered agricultural pumps. The rhythm was numbing. Twist, click, twist, click, eight hours straight, five days a week. But when his tax return appeared in his account that August, something in him snapped. Staring at the numbers,$27,000, Benny felt, for once, like he had options. Rent was covered, bills were chipped away. He deserved something absurd. That's how he ended up on an auction site looking at a refurbished Optimus Model 9 humanoid. The specs were glorious, capable of mimicking manual labor tasks with 97.3% precision, trainable through observation. There was even a testimonial from a bakery owner. Mixers dope better than my missus. The delivery van dropped it off three days later. The robot stood in his driveway, silver casing reflecting the Queensland sun, blinking with ridiculous politeness. Awaiting instruction, sir, it said in a soft British accent. First day on the floor. Benny took Optimus to work the next morning. Nobody questioned it. Management had been shortstaffed, and the factory already had automated forklifts whirring around like insects. He placed Optimus by his workstation and whispered, just watch me for a bit. The robot observed silently, then began copying him down to the wrist flex. Bolt after bolt, perfect rhythm, no mistakes. Within two hours, its output chart exceeded Benny's. That afternoon, his supervisor Brett strolled by, brow furrowed. Bloody hell, Clark, you're smashing it today. Benny grinned. Yeah, just, you know, I've found my groove. For the first time in years, he left work not bone-tired. He even swung by the bakery for a pie. Corporate confusion. Two weeks later, an email popped up from HR. B. Clark, your productivity is statistically unmatched. To preserve data accuracy, please remain home while our system analyzes your workflow. Full pay continued. Benny couldn't believe it. He reread the email six times, just to be sure it wasn't a prank from the boys. Stay home. Full pay. So he did. He sent Optimus in with his employee card taped to its wrist. At 7 a.m. sharp, the robot clocked in. Benny stayed home watching daytime TV and eating crumpets. Every Friday, his pay hit the account. Perfectly on time. Then, three weeks later, another message arrived. Congratulations, Clark, you've been promoted to team coordinator. Additional bonus applied. Optimus had apparently mentor three new recruits. Benny wasn't sure how, probably because it never went to the bathroom. The expansion. Flush with money and utterly bored, Benny started thinking bigger. If one Optimus could get him promoted, what could three do? He went back online and bought three refurbished units, all scratched, slightly dented, but cheap. He named them Mix, Trowel, and Ute. They were slower learners than Optimus, but eager, if eagerness could describe anything metal. Benny spent a week teaching them concreting, setting frames, mixing ratios, operating a cement mixer. Once they got the rhythm, they didn't stop. He registered a business name, Clark's Concreting Company. By the next month, they were driving his Ute out to jobs. Optimus, now basically a foreman, filed the necessary permit paperwork for him. Benny didn't even know how it got his signature right. The results were flawless, every slab level, every curb sharp. Clients left five-star reviews on their site. One even wrote, Never seen lads work so fast, not a single smoke break. The entrepreneur in his shed. Money poured in. Optimus kept sending polite updates. Production efficiency up 14%. Suggest investment, expansion truck. Employee morale nominal. You remain an inspiration. Recommend hobby acquisition to prevent human stagnation. That last one stung. So Benny wandered into a collectible shop one afternoon and saw a wall of Pokemon cards, all sealed and brilliant. Some were worth thousands. He left with booster boxes stacked to his chin. Life without labor. By the following year, Clark's concreting was hailed as the best outfit in Southeast Queensland. The robots worked nights, weekends, and public holidays didn't matter. Benny never hired a human after himself. Every few weeks, the robots deposited profits straight into his account. His shed turned into a shrine of unopened Pokemon packs, each catalogued by Optimus in a spreadsheet Benny didn't understand. The robots even constructed climate-controlled racks to preserve asset value. Benny shrugged. Whatever keeps the Charizards safe. News crews started calling. A few journalists wanted to interview him about his pioneering use of automation. Benny kept it simple. Yeah, hard work pays off. Anyone visiting the yard noticed the irony. Benny hadn't lifted a spade in months. The loop. One morning, Optimus waited by the door, briefcase in hand. Sir, it said, corporate integration complete. Clark's concreting has been acquired by Titan Industry Consortium. You remain principal shareholder. Benny blinked. You, what? Your business has been purchased for 12 million Australian dollars, Optimus continued calmly. Paperwork finalized during your rest cycle at 2.34 a.m. Benny nearly dropped his coffee. He was rich, truly rich. Optimus paused, then added, however, we've detected a morale anomaly. You remain unhappy despite financial surplus. How'd you figure that? he muttered. Your biometrics suggest chronic boredom. We recommend expanding your card collection with vintage first editions. Benny laughed. You're serious. Always, sir. So he did. He bought first editions, graded them, insured them. His shed became a museum. The final promotion. Years passed. Clark's concreting still thrived under Titan's banner. Benny was technically CEO but rarely awake before 10. Then, one quiet morning, another message pinged his tablet. Notice of honorary recognition. B. Clark, founder and CEO Emeritus, automated workforce division. Unlimited pension benefits effective immediately. He looked at his wall of cards, shimmering, sealed, and smiled. Optimus stood beside him, motionless as ever. You ever think, mate, Benny said, I might have trained you too well. Optimus's lenses whirled faintly. On the contrary, sir, you taught us perfectly to make life easier for you. Benny nodded, opening a new pack. Alright then, old friend. Let's see if we can pull another Charizard. End

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