0s, and the Karel Capek’s play “Rossum’s Universal Robots,” or “R.U.R.,” had put the term “robots” in the public consciousness. By the late ’30s, it had all started to manifest itself.
Collectors Weekly: How did Hiroshima and Nagasaki affect Japan’s take on technology and the products it made?
Pinchot: I think they realized they needed to catch up technology-wise, but really they were just trying to rebuild. They were thinking in terms of survival, but the overall influence on technology is what prompted them to design and build toy robots.
After the war, most toy makers were producing clockwork toys, but the Japanese embraced batteries and motors.
The timing was right. All through the 1920s, ’30s, and ’40s you had cowboy heroes, like Tom Mix and Hopalong Cassidy. That era was ending because the Western frontier, with its cowboy-themed shows and toys, had been done to death. Toy makers said, “Well, what’s next? We’re going to into space!”
Japanese tin-toy makers picked up on that immediately. Space and robot toys were indicative of the times, where all of a sudden we lived in a world with atomic bombs and rockets. It was part of a great trend that included the automation of everything from sewing and washing machines, to cars with automatic rather than manual transmissions. It was natural to see the next frontier as a place filled with beings that would do the work of humans, and also help humankind to become more technologically advanced.
Collectors Weekly: Why is it that robots are so connected to space exploration in people’s minds?
Pinchot: A lot of our leading thinkers who were dealing with the prospect of real space travel were trying to figure out how we’d be able to do things remotely. Robots fit very neatly into that for a lot of reasons. For one, they don’t need to breathe.
Toy makers didn’t always take this into consideration. For example, There are several different incarnations of a toy robot called “Easel-Back Robot.” Its name was really just “Robot” on the box, but people call them “Easel-Back” because he’s got a little wire in the back that helps him stand up so he doesn’t fall over. (Many toy robots were just labeled “Robot,” so collectors make up nicknames for them to differentiate between the myriad models.)
Well, one of the variations of the Easel-Back is what they call the “Domed Easel-Back.” He’s got a clear plastic helmet over his head. It’s comical: Why would he need an oxygen helmet when robots don’t breathe?
Another, the “Lantern Robot,” not only has lighted eyes, but he’s also carrying a lantern. So again, why does he have a lantern? Why would he need something as primitive as a lantern to light his way? It’s a very odd conundrum, but those types of fantasy incarnations in toys are really fascinating for collectors. It’s really endearing and charming to see a mechanical robot holding a lantern. It’s a funny juxtaposition.
Collectors Weekly: In the ’50s postwar Japanese culture, robots tend to be helpers. Where did that come from?
Pinchot: The whole concept is that no matter how big or overwhelming things get, you can still have power as a small, puny human. In the far reaches of outer space, where there are any number of unimaginable foes with great powers, you now have something to do your bidding, something that is equally as impressive as your enemy but under your control. Whether it’s Rosie the Robot, Tetsujin, or Astro Boy, the concept is always the same.
The basic premise of robots is that they are willing and able to do what we cannot or will not. They allow us to be in two places at once. And they’re physically stronger than we are, so they can do work for us like a machine. There’s a Japanese robot called the “Busy Cart” robot, which is a construction worker robot with a big wheelbarrow. The real fun comes when we cross the line and give them a personality or thinking powers.
Robby, the robot in the 1956 movie “Forbidden Planet,” was the first robot who attempted to think for people. Naturally he made mistakes—when one character wanted gin, Robby made a bunch of bottles of gin for him,