| By Thomas K. Grose
Noel Sharkey’s academic career
path has crisscrossed an impressive
range of disciplines: engineering,
computer science, philosophy, and
psychology, among them. But it’s
for his work in robotics that he’s
best known. Indeed, the University
of Sheffield computer science professor
is arguably the United Kingdom’s
most famous robotics expert—thanks
to the power of the “telly.”
For years, Sharkey was chief judge
on the popular BBC TV series Robot
Wars, which featured robots battling
it out in gladiator-style tournaments.
“It gives me a lot of street
cred with the kids,” Sharkey
says of the show.
And that’s important to Sharkey
these days. Although he remains
a busy researcher and academic—he
also edits three academic journals,
including Robotics and Autonomous
Systems—much of his time is
now spent popularizing engineering
and science. As the senior media
fellow for Britain’s Engineering
and Physical Science Research Council
(EPSRC), “my job is to engage
the public through science and engineering,”
he explains. Sharkey’s mission
is to raise public awareness that
science and engineering are not
only crucial to society and its
future, but they can be fun and
interesting, as well. And he focuses
primarily on youngsters.
That’s a critical audience
in a country where enrollments in
engineering nose-dived some years
ago and have since remained flat.
According to Britain’s Engineering
and Technology Board, engineering
enrollments at U.K. universities
peaked in the early ’90s at
around 21,000, then fell to around
15,000 or 16,000, where they’ve
since remained. But during roughly
that same period, overall university
enrollments jumped 40 percent. And
while students have been drawn to
some areas of engineering, like
civil engineering, other disciplines,
especially electrical, have continued
to slump since the bursting of the
IT bubble a few years ago. At Sheffield’s
computer science department, enrollments
are down by two thirds from a couple
of years ago. That’s alarming
because, as Sharkey notes, “we
were the cash cow.” He fears
the decline results from engineering
“being seen as very dull and
boring.” That’s not
only a worrisome perception problem
but a potentially dangerous one,
he adds, given that in developing
countries like India and China,
engineers are seen as heroes and
engineering schools’ classrooms
are bulging with eager students.
That’s
why Sharkey thinks shows like Robot
Wars are valuable—they help
kids see engineering as something
cool. The teams of “geeky
kids” who built the warrior
robots “turned out to be role
models.” The program received
only several dozen contestant applications
in each of its early seasons; by
its fifth year, however, it was
regularly receiving several thousand
applications—an indication
that geek-chic can take off.
Rachel Bishop, EPSRC’s public
engagement manager, says the council
is delighted with Sharkey’s
work so far. In Sharkey, she says,
with his engineering and science
know-how and his flair for showmanship,
the council thinks it has found
the perfect person to bring science
and technology to the masses. “Noel
is an ideal ambassador,” Bishop
says. “He has a unique talent
for getting people enthusiastic
about robotics research. Noel’s
charismatic approach to engaging
people with science is exactly what
our senior media fellowship scheme
is all about.”
From
Rough Road to Robots
Sharkey, who turns 57 this month,
certainly knows something about
being bored in school. He grew up
in a working-class area of Coleraine,
Northern Ireland, when the local
schools were less than desirable.
“I went to a crap school,”
he recalls. Few of the teachers
were qualified, “and they
hit us all the time.” At home,
however, Sharkey was very studious.
His father—who died when Sharkey
was 11—was an invalid who
constantly had books delivered from
the library, and he shared them
with his son. But in the sterile,
uninspiring atmosphere of his school,
Sharkey showed little inclination
to achieve, and his teachers considered
him a dolt. When he was 14, his
headmaster laughed at him when he
said he played chess. He wasn’t
laughing after Sharkey beat him
in a match in front of the entire
class. So bored was Sharkey at school,
he tended to be a troublemaker.
“I was a nightmare, actually,”
he says. “When I left, no
one complained.” And he was
only 15.
Sharkey, today, with his trim white
beard and long white hair neatly
pulled back in a ponytail, looks
not unlike an aging rock star. And
that’s not far off the mark.
Although he held down a variety
of menial jobs after leaving school,
he was an accomplished guitarist
who played in number of rock bands.
Eventually, Sharkey—who has
always been interested in psychiatry—trained
as a psychiatric nurse. Then a girlfriend,
who was taking qualifying exams
for college, urged him to take them,
as well. “The minute I started,
it just felt right. And that came
as a surprise to me.”
Ultimately he got an honors degree
in psychology at Exeter University
and went on from there to study
computer science. Next came research
stints at Yale and Stanford universities
in the United States and a return
to Exeter where he researched linguistics
in the computer science department.
Although his Ph.D. is in experimental
psychology, Sharkey is a chartered
electrical engineer and a fellow
of the Institution of Electrical
Engineers, as well as the British
Computer Society. Given his interests
in areas as diverse as cognitive
science, engineering, computer science,
and linguistics, it’s not
surprising that he gravitated toward
robotics. Sharkey built his first
robot in 1989: a machine that could
scoot down corridors, avoid people,
and turn corners.
One of his more recent robots,
eMo, which has red rubber tubing
for lips and camera lenses for eyes,
has an expressive face and can mimic
such human emotions as happiness,
sadness, anger and surprise. It
greets and delights visitors at
Thinktank, a science museum in Birmingham.
One of Sharkey’s main research
interests is how humans interact
with robots; others include biologically
inspired robots, cognitive processes,
and machine learning. He met his
third wife, Amanda, while an undergraduate
at Exeter. She’s now a senior
computer science lecturer at Sheffield,
where she also focuses on robotics,
and they’ve written a number
of papers together. Sharkey also
has five daughters, ranging in age
from 38 to 11.
Though clearly besotted by robots,
Sharkey thinks there are limits
to what robots can accomplish. He
scoffs at the notion that robots
will ever be consciously aware.
His own eMo can only mimic emotional
expressions. Yes, he’s suitably
impressed by advanced robots like
Sony’s Qrio, a robot “companion”
that can walk, climb (and descend)
stairs, dance, recognize voices
and faces, converse and express
“emotions” using movement,
expressions, and lights. But no
robot can truly think or feel, he
says. “Basically, they’re
totally stupid.” Humans, Sharkey
says, “are biological machines,
and the word ‘biology’
is key to me.”
A
Better Mix
Clearly, though, robotics is on
the verge of making some stunning
breakthroughs. But Sharkey fears
that the United Kingdom could be
left behind if its students continue
to shun engineering and science.
He thinks one reason for the decline
is the way engineering is taught
in the United Kingdom, with a heavy,
early emphasis on theory and math.
“Kids come in and they want
to design and build cars, but instead
they’re fed theory and hard
math. And they say, ‘What
the heck is this?’”
Degree programs should be made more
palatable and exciting early on,
Sharkey says, with more hands-on
learning to go along with the theoretical
so students can more easily see
how it relates to real-life applications.
“We need to get out the idea
that engineering can be creative—and
then make it so. Somehow, we need
to teach innovation.” But
Sharkey also realizes that few schools
have either the time or the money
to reshape their curricula. “So
we could use a government initiative.”Sharkey
also takes a more long-term view
toward revitalizing engineering
enrollments, noting that it’s
best to capture the imagination
of budding engineers when they’re
as young as 10 or 11. Toward that
goal, and with EPSRC funding, he
runs a series of robot-control and
construction competitions for children
and young adults. A recent one was
in Rotherham, a hardscrabble area
outside Sheffield. About 2,000 inner-city
kids made and took home simple cardboard
robots from kits he devised that
use a photoelectric sensor. Many
of these kids are considered unteachable,
“but to me, they seemed happy
to learn. They didn’t see
me as a teacher.” Moreover,
constructing robots engages and
entertains youngsters, which makes
learning easier.
Schools, Sharkey believes, need
to accommodate students who don’t
necessarily do well using the one-size-fits-all
model of learning from books and
classroom discussions. Sharkey worries
that too many disengaged, and thus
undiscovered, smart kids are falling
through the cracks. He recalls boyhood
friends who were as smart or smarter
than he was who never learned how
to learn and have been largely unemployed
their whole lives. “I was
just lucky, really,” he says.
Schools find it easier to deal with
gifted students, but they’re
mostly children from middle-class
backgrounds whose parents push them
to excel. The naughty kids may be
just as bright, Sharkey says from
experience.
But we need to find new and less
traditional ways to reach and teach
them.
Thomas K. Grose is a freelance
writer based in London.
|