Asian people are no strangers to being characterized as passionless and mechanical. This perception causes us to be perceived as robots, contributing to an existing implicit bias that Asians lack emotional intelligence and communication skills. Such a portrayal then justifies the techno-Orientalist fearmongering that pervades current political discourse in America, particularly the tension over technological development and trade conflict between China and the United States.
This characterization is deeply intertwined with the model minority stereotype, one which is certainly no new phenomenon. In 1988, political cartoonist Garry Trudeau published this satirical cartoon:
The cartoon acknowledged the pervasive and harmful stereotype of Asians as unnaturally intelligent, and thus threatening to Whites in the West. At first glance, it may seem like statistics substantiate the model minority myth: Research indicates that Asians have a higher average educational level and higher rates of college enrollment. But perhaps there’s another reason behind the pervasive documentation of Asian American success.
Frank H. Wu, author of “Yellow,” suggests that “Asian Americans have had to overcompensate” for implicit bias. Research indicates that individual Asian Americans make less money than individual White Americans with the same qualifications in many occupational categories, even after controlling for other factors. Asians are both underrepresented in management and in higher-level academia. Wu explains that “the excuse most often voiced for the situation emanates from the stereotype itself, namely that Asian Americans would rather make less money in research and development than be promoted to management positions.”
This explanation contextualizes the recent phrase “bamboo ceiling”, which explains how the model minority stereotype may hinder career promotions for Asian Americans. The bamboo ceiling has measurable implications: An analysis conducted by the Harvard Business Review (HBR) found that “Asian American white-collar professionals are the least likely [racial] group to be promoted from individual contributor roles into management”, and that “White professionals are about twice as likely to be promoted into management as their Asian American counterparts.” As a result, Asian Americans are significantly underrepresented in executive positions. For example, Asian Americans accounted for 9.8% of the federal professional workforce in 2016 but only 4.4% of the workforce at the highest federal level. Why are Asians often confined to middle management rather than promoted to leadership roles? Buck Gee, a former VP at Cisco and executive advisor of the Ascend Foundation, told CNBC in an interview, “Asian Americans are perceived as smart, hardworking, easy-to-manage employees … we’re also seen as good workers, but not great leaders.” Thus, the model minority stereotype serves to equate Asians to robots, stunting their career potential.
The model minority myth proves itself to be a double-edged sword: The very positive stereotypes used to describe Asians, namely being considered “polite,” “hardworking,” and “smart” and“gifted” in the STEM fields, are also used to diminish individual accomplishments and impose barriers to career advancement. These values are easily twisted into negative descriptors such as “passionless,” “uncreative,” “obedient,” and “unnatural” — like a robot.
This stereotype fuels the growth of techno-Orientalism, an extension of Orientalism that examines Asia from the Western gaze and East Asia, specifically, through a hyper-technological lens. The phenomenon portrays East Asia as a frighteningly futuristic, technologically advanced society. The trope originated in the late 20th century, during which cyberpunk media and speculative science fiction experienced significant popularity. The concept pervades film and literature specifically: The New Yorker associates techno-Orientalism with “Blade Runner,” “Neuromancer,” “Ghost in the Shell,” the Fu Manchu series, and more. Historically stemming from American anxieties about Japan’s economic growth in the 70s, contemporary techno-Orientalism has shifted its focus to Chinese hegemony and Chinese robots.
The stereotypes associated with techno-Orientalism may proliferate as artificial intelligence becomes more prominent in our daily lives. The rapid advancement of AI is sparking concerns that automation may displace jobs traditionally held by blue-collar workers, evoking parallel fears rooted in anti-immigrant xenophobia. As new industries incorporate AI, it seems more plausible that AI development (much of which is happening in China and Japan) may topple traditional employment structures. An Asianized future thus becomes psychologically intertwined with technological progress. In this way, the stereotype of Asians as innately adept at science, technology, engineering, and math helps frame the rise of AI as an extension of East Asian technological dominance, implicitly associating Asian Americans with the AI moral panic.
The stereotype of Asian Americans as robots thus symbolizes a broader fear that technological progress is synonymous with an “Asian invasion.” It deepens the very core of techno-Orientalist anxiety: that Asian advancement and technological takeover are in the near future, and perhaps even already around us. Jane Hu of the New Yorker explains that “the Other is a robot — or at least robotic — because Western speculations about an Asianized future still rely on stereotypes of Asians as passive, unfeeling, and good at math.” The trope that robots are taking over the world, then, has deeper implications, particularly as East Asia is associated with technological development.
Problematically, techno-Orientalism tends to present the East and by extension Eastern immigrants as a threat. As the competition between the U.S. and China over advancements in 5G technology and AI ramps up, techno-Orientalist anxiety may manifest as anti-Asian sentiment. Shelley Sang-Hee Lee writes in “A New History of Asian America” that “People see U.S. prosperity and Asian success as mutually exclusive and antagonistic forces, even when the latter is academic achievements made by Americans of Asian descent.” Just as techno-Orientalism presents the East as technologically advanced in order to legitimize the threat of Chinese hegemony, the stereotype of Asian individuals as robotic may have a similarly harmful effect on race relations within the Harvard bubble and across America, exacerbating tensions and divisive attitudes in both academic and broader societal contexts.
To deconstruct the prejudice against Asians as robotic, all communities must challenge the internal and external prejudices that reduce Asians to a monolith of math-oriented, unfeeling workers. That doesn’t mean STEM majors need to quit their jobs, or that the burden should be placed solely on Asian Americans to solve. One productive step we can take is to call out and correct assumptions based on techno-Orientalism on a grand scale. In the news and in popular media, we should scrutinize any stereotypical portrayal of Asian Americans, keeping the danger of propagating such stereotypes in mind. We should aim to recognize the diversity and complexity of Asian American experiences, cultures, and identities, and celebrate their contributions to various fields of human endeavor. Finally, we should amplify the voices and stories of Asian Americans who have shown leadership and creativity in their personal and professional lives.
By dismantling the stereotypes behind techno-Orientalism, we can then begin to dismantle the racialized tension over political and economic competition perpetrated by fear and ignorance.
