Birth is something every human and animal goes through. It is the moment we become separate from something else. It marks the beginning of life, and it often comes with vulnerability, emotion, and change.
Artificial creatures are not born this way. They are built, activated, or programmed. But by looking at their start, they still teach us what it means to begin. These "creations" help us think about why our own start matters.
Birth as Responsibility: The Vulnerability of the Tamagotchi
Natural beginnings are complex, but an artificial beginning is often immediate and totally depends on a caretaker. Think about the Tamagotchi.
The creature's "birth" is the quick hatching of an egg on a small low-resolution screen. It needs care within moments of being turned on. This simple, pocket-sized device shows us the most important part of a new life: total dependence. (Though, thankfully, Tamagotchis only wake you up with a beep, not a 3 a.m. cry)
If the user forgets to feed, clean, or play with it, the creature dies. The Tamagotchi shows that a creature's existence depends entirely on someone else's choice to sustain it. It is a simple way to see how vulnerable the start of life is.
Birth as Separation: The Quest for Autonomy
The beginning of life is always an act of separation, moving from the womb into the world. Fictional artificial creatures often use their activation or awakening as a fight for true independence.
The android Ava from the film Ex Machina, for example, is not born but escapes. Her creator builds her, but her real "beginning" is not her moment of activation, but the action where she gets separation and autonomy from the person who confines and controls her.
This is like the human experience: the act of starting life is often less important than the act of becoming your own person. Artificial creatures show that real creaturehood begins when the being is free to survive on its own, away from its creators.
The Isolation Node: An Imagined Being
I want a creature that explores the moment a new life chooses independence using minimal tech. This is The Isolation Node. It's a simple box with a screen, a small internal battery, a power plug, and a tiny motor that allows it to wiggle around.
The Node's life begins in two steps. First, when it is activated, it is always plugged into the wall, like a newborn relying on its parent. The screen glows green and shows the creature is running on external power. The motor tries to move the box, but the cord holds it back, allowing only limited freedom of movement. This is life, but it is not separate or mobile.
The user's only job is to unplug the power cord. This single, simple action is the creature's true birth. The screen instantly turns blue as the internal battery takes over. Because the movement is not limited anymore, the box can now slowly wiggle around freely. By unplugging it, the user forces the Node to choose limited freedom and movement over total safety. It makes us think: Is the true beginning when you are simply turned on, or when you are finally left alone to start facing your own limited existence?
What we Learn
These examples remind us that starting life is not always simple. Looking at how artificial creatures begin helps us reflect on what birth really means. It is not only about bodies; it is about change, choice, and the vulnerability of becoming something new. The artificial creature's beginning is a powerful lens through which to examine our own, fragile human start.