The classic 1978 Chinese sci‑fi novel “Little Smarty Travels to the Future” (小靈通漫遊未來) takes place is a post-scarcity utopia where drudge work is no longer any human’s problem. Iron Egg is the name of the domestic robot responsible for all the work in the home that women would’ve been expected to do at the time. The wife and mother is a scholar and a researcher.
“Little Smarty Travels to the Future” is a story of human — especially women’s — liberation from domestic labor. “The story is very clear that because [the wife and mother] doesn’t have to do this housework, she’s able to do all of these other things,” said Virginia Conn, an assistant professor at Stevens Institute of Technology and expert in Chinese science fiction and socialist technologies.
Nearly 50 years after the story was published, this reality is closer than ever. As of 2023, China utilizes 470 robots per 10,000 employees, leading the world in the industrial deployment of robots. Still, it will be many years before humanoid robots are deemed safe enough to roll out in a much more unstructured and unpredictable arena: the home.
Robotics promises to be the most transformative household technology since the first electric washing machine was invented in 1908. A quick stroll around a robotics expo in China, or the U.S. for that matter, will probably lead to a sighting of a humanoid doing simple domestic tasks like pouring a glass of milk. By cutting down on the time spent on household chores, robotics could in turn “dramatically cut gender inequality,” according to two Oxford researchers. But there is also an apparent fear about how technology threatens some uniquely human quality in our most intimate spaces.
Domino Theory spoke to several experts in Chinese science fiction literature to try and understand the complicated mix of cultural attitudes towards robotics in China, with a particular focus on how historical, political and gender dynamics might impact receptiveness to robotics into the home.
In the past several years, science fiction in China has exploded in popularity. Hua Li (李桦), professor at Montana State University and expert in contemporary Chinese literature, attributes this to the global success of Liu Cixin’s (劉慈欣) “Three Body Problem,” as well as the support and encouragement of the Chinese government.
Artificial intelligence and robotics are certainly a source of pride for China. Nathaniel Isaacson, professor at North Carolina State University and expert in Chinese pop culture and science fiction, said that some of what he has read recently about domestic robots in China is framed in terms of competition with Elon Musk’s robots. “If China can get there first, then this is a point of pride.” Isaacson thinks the focus is on nationalism instead of on the question of, what’s this technology going to do to us? One example is the choreographed dance performed by Unitree robots at the 2025 CCTV Spring Festival Gala, which Isaacson views as a political performance that served to demonstrate the Communist Party’s competency. Li thinks that showcases like the Spring Festival Gala encourage Chinese writers to focus on positive narratives of robots in order to be aligned with government policy.
Indeed, literature must have official approval by the Chinese government to be published. This means that Chinese sci-fi also tends to have the backing of tech companies that are working in tandem with the government, according to Conn. She has observed that contemporary Chinese science fiction is often focused on near-term technologies, to the effect of “normalizing the technological products that these companies are already invested in normalizing.” One example is the book “AI 2041,” written by Chinese science fiction author Chen Qiufan (陳楸帆) and Beijing-based Taiwanese technologist Kai-Fu Lee (李開復). This series of short stories centers around near-term technologies, including domestic technologies, which Lee happens to have major financial stakes in. Even when contemporary Chinese science fiction is critical of new technologies, which it often is, Conn thinks that it still works to normalize cutting-edge technology and foster a sense that it’s “going to be there regardless of our individual responses to it.”
Li also noted a widespread sense of inevitability regarding cutting-edge robotics. Speaking on the growing presence of robotics in the public sphere in China, particularly in tech hubs like Hangzhou, Li said, “people take it for granted that, of course, robots are going to play more roles in our life, no doubt.”
China might also be slightly more open to domestic robots, particularly compared to the U.S. For one, outsourcing domestic labor is generally viewed more positively in China than in the U.S. Both Isaacson and Conn argue that the history of slavery in the U.S. makes Americans particularly nervous about outsourcing household labor, even if that is to a humanoid robot. One manifestation of this anxiety is the heavy presence of robot uprisings in American sci-fi, which doesn’t exist nearly as often in Chinese contexts, according to Conn. Liberation from household work is tied to a distinctly different narrative in China, where there is the historical legacy of the idea that “the socialist state was supposed to liberate people from … household labor so you could join the productive labor force as a good socialist,” said Isaacson.
Isaacson has observed that compared to literature from the 20th century, contemporary sci-fi stories in China more often focus on domestic labor and robots performing a filial role. He referenced a cult classic sci-fi comedy called “Dislocation” (錯位) from the 1980s, in which the main character makes a robot to go to meetings, banquets and other obligations for him. This is “a very socialist robot,” said Isaacson, as it was tasked to do forms of labor that were unique to late or post-socialist China. In contrast, Isaacson highlighted a more recent story called “Tongtong’s Summer” (童童的夏天), which is about a robot enabling the younger generation to care for their grandparents.
This shift in focus from “socialist” labor to filial labor reflects current demographic pressures in China. Low birth rates are causing the Chinese population to resemble an inverted pyramid in which there are decreasing numbers of young people who can work and increasing numbers of elderly people who require care. “There’s a recognition that the younger populations, just by being fewer, literally, physically cannot do this,” Conn said. “Robotic labor in the home, especially in a caregiving context, gives them a lot of the tools that they need to be capable of doing it.”
Beyond dealing with demographic pressures, there is certainly a liberatory promise of domestic robotics, particularly for women to whom the bulk of domestic labor typically falls. But this is also challenged in Chinese science fiction by stories that bring up feelings of unease about the introduction of this powerful technology into domestic spaces. Hua Li highlighted one story called “I Decided to Divorce My Robot Wife” (我決定和機器人妻子離婚), which is about a futuristic Chinese society that prioritizes the birth of sons over daughters. As a result, there are not enough women to marry the men and so the men must instead marry robots. The main character decides to divorce his robot wife because she is too perfect and too obedient. Li said this story aims to critique the traditional Chinese preference for sons over daughters, as well as the patriarchal image of the ideal wife. But it also hints at an unease about giving machines roles in the traditional family structure.
Li also highlighted a story about an AI that becomes the main brain of the family, essentially running all aspects of the household. Although the wife is liberated from domestic labor, the AI can only be configured by her husband. The lesson is that domestic technology won’t necessarily reverse power dynamics. Li said the story, which is written by Tang Fei (糖匪), also touches on the fear that the absence of a traditional role for women in the house could be unwanted and destabilizing. In recent decades, massive economic growth and the emergence of China’s middle class has enabled more single-income households, and led more and more women to choose to stay at home. As a result, “a lot of Chinese women believe that, you know, marrying well is better than working well,” Li said. AI and robotics pose a challenge to this belief.
Compared to “Little Smarty Travels to the Future,” these stories paint a more complicated and darker picture of the array of cultural attitudes toward domestic technology in China. How these dynamics play out in real life when humans eventually interact with these machines with regularity remains to be seen. But it likely will happen on a massive scale in the Chinese cradle of robotics.
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