CyberLife: A Pregnant Pause Between Concept Art And Final Production

While browsing through the Artworks section of Detroit: Become Human’s extras from the game menu, I noticed quite a number of significant changes, consolidated to a single, recurring theme.

Naturally, the default race will be Caucasian.

Because art is a reflection of reality, the first instinct is to mimic one’s own identity. Especially, when the collective identity, or egregore, if you will, recruits a majority of Caucasian artists.

What I observed while perusing those striking pieces not only provoked disquisition on the presentation of race, but also theories regarding in-game narrative, elaborating on certain aspects of economy in the midst of android-human conflict.

In game design, a sibling of the tech industry, Caucasian males account for most, if not all, of working personnel.

By that very fact or act, it might be expected that the designers create character appearances similar to their own physical identity.

At least, when regarded as a default impression.

Two characters, in particular, were subject to ethnic transition. Their genders remained the same, but their racial makeup was inverted. For both characters, the original design is inverse with the final design.

These two characters are Alice and Amanda.

Naturally, there were a number of other characters I noticed with notable changes in appearance, however, the main difference is in physiognomy rather than racial modification.

Alice is the child of Todd, a drug addict whose routine fix is snorting Red Ice, a substance that curiously resembles crack cocaine dyed in a shade of blood-red.

Without spoiling anything, we’ll simply say that Alice is technically younger than she seems.

Yes, much younger than her nine-year-old countenance and comportment.

Alice is fair-skinned with straight, brown hair that would fall a few inches past her shoulders, if not styled in a ponytail.

In the concept art, it seems Alice was originally considered to be of African-American descent. Possibly Hispanic, or an admixture of Afro-Hispanic, given how ambiguous the depictions of her were from the Artworks.

The features for concept Alice are slightly more ethnic, with straight hair segued to curly frizz.

It is worth noting that there was a greater selection of work to peruse from the Artworks section compared to the downloadable content of a digital artbook titled The Art of Detroit: Become Human.

Many of the works seen in the Artworks sections can also be seen in the digital artbook.

The designs were sparse for both Alice and Amanda. The former of whom only had one image of difference from the artbook.

An additional image was found while searching, that was neither printed in the artbook or Artworks tab.

From general perception, Amanda is not who we immediately recognise in the concept art.

Whereas concept Alice can be recognised from her placement by Kara’s side, when alone, inside the layout designed for her room, beneath her tent fortress, or with other signifiers like toys or clothing, concept Amanda can be recognised by attire, but an initial thought might be one of a blank name tag.

Again, for concept Alice, the facial features appear to remain similar when given a side-by-side analysis.

Amanda, however, is patently white, compared to our black and dubious antagonist.

Right up to the stark white, spiky follicles of hair atop her head, concept Amanda appears more Helen Mirren or Meryl Streep than Simbi Khali, the face and voice of the Amanda we see through Connor’s software.

In one outfit illustration, concept Amanda’s hairstyle defies the punk with a neat, almost bob cut.

Ignoring the stance of her feet, which resemble hooves, perhaps we might recognise her as Amanda by the symbolism of this styling, accompanied by the Hunger Games, Capitol-of-Panem-fashion and hoof-like stance, to be interpreted in relation to someone with malicious intent.

In summary, your average, austere figure of authority.

The common theme to gather here is that the designers, while not identifying as female, still defaulted to a Caucasian template relevant to their own physical constitution.

However, it begs the question as to if minority employees would employ the same knee-jerk reaction. Would it confirm the blueprint of Caucasian as default?

Male or female, notwithstanding.

Or, would they, too, model a character, consciously or unconsciously, similar to their own phenotype?

Nevertheless, what really captured my intrigue, more than the obvious priority of design employed for our star trio, more than the clear deviation of appearance for Simon, North and, to a lesser, yet still marked, degree, Josh, was the significance of seeing concept art of Carl’s home, followed by him, settled in the seat of his paraplegic machine, a paintbrush in one hand and a stained towel in the other, with an adjacent tray of disorganised brushes and other utensils.

Carl Manfred is a retired painter.

Occasionally, he still paints and visits art events, but ultimately, after the accident, his workload had begun to wane.

In any case, a theory came to mind regarding his profession. As an artist, it should stand to reason that his employment status was fairly protected.

As far as current developments were concerned, no android was capable of creating something from nothing, to which art classified as a general rule.

Sure, they could replicate an image. Create a carbon copy, as it were. However, this ability of recreation was, as evinced by Markus, his android caretaker, limited to producing an exact, perfect likeness to any of the paintings that Carl had created from his own mind’s eye.

Even with deviancy, it was yet to be observed if androids could display hints of imagination. Emotion seems to be the primary factor of unprecedented behaviour, but imagination required the capacity to produce images of people, places and things that didn’t exist or had yet to exist in reality.

To not further digress from the main point of interest, my thoughts concerning Carl and his vocation are expressly in relation to the major conflict between androids and humans, regarding employment.

We see it in the first moments of gameplay as Markus.

Walking through the local park within Capitol Park, nestled within the commercial and entertainment district of Greektown, Detroit.

From Markus’s perspective, we are foreshadowed with his programmed occupation when the first human he strolls past is identified as an elderly man receiving assistance from his own android caretaker.

The aforementioned function of Markus’s design.

From here, we continue down the restricted path of locomotion, where digital red walls appear within any android’s line of vision, software reminding them that they are expected to follow a linear route, if deviating from this path.

The duality of Man is evinced when you do follow the straight and narrow, leaving an echo to confront a brutal facet of reality, where another human is accompanied by their android.

In this case, the human is not so kind and amicable towards his android during their morning exercise. After Markus is shoved aside, the innominate android is given harsh reprimand.

Markus, unperturbed, as custom to his impersonal existence, continues ahead to the crosswalk. Here, the landscape expands to the bustling district. Where the canvas of Detroit becomes awash with vivid colour, both subtle and glaring.

If choosing to explore a bit, within the boundaries of your mental sandbox, you’ll find the first odd strokes of the painter’s frustration. To the left, several androids are observed in a pit, working on network infrastructure.

To the right, there is a single person, dressed in what appears to be military fatigues, sat against the railing entrance of the park. A cardboard sign is both beneath and placed before them with a poster that reads:

BAN ANDROIDS

_ – — – — – — – _

ANDROIDS

RUIN

OUR COUNTRY

_ – — – — – — – — – — – — – -_

WE WANT JOBS !

Just one among an immeasurable homeless population throughout Detroit. A sheer volume of unemployed citizens that is steadily increasing with each new manufactured model or series distributed by CyberLife.

It is an open secret that humans express contempt towards androids due to the fact of androids threatening to usurp human labour, if not replacing humanity along the special hierarchy.

It is an understandable expression of human psychology, where fear of the unknown appears as a shared, recurring theme.

In the beginning, people were sceptical when the first ever android was released commercially. A familiar face from the menu screen, named Chloe. However, the warm, inviting hostess we see is actually an improved version of the original model.

Don’t worry. She’s just a little shy. It’s her first date after all.

This significant difference can be seen from the visit at Kamski’s place in the chapter “Meet Kamski”, when Connor and Hank seek the founder and former CEO of CyberLife himself as a last resort for solving the case of deviancy affecting androids.

Deviancy that is expressed by the two Chloes in the pool.

These Chloes are a mirror image of who greets us each time we launch the game, awaiting with new quips.

In contrast, the Chloe who greets at the door, fully-clothed, is the predecessor. A model that, as far as we can discern, is immune to deviancy. We can surmise that its programming is too inchoate to accept conversion, if presented.

As confirmation, Kamski addresses this Chloe model as “it”.

In addition, we may also suspect that Kamski may have already experimented with deviancy to the best of his equally limited knowledge, given that only specially-engineered androids are able to convert, or “infect”, other androids with the virus.

The two Chloes, while deviant, do not possess this ability.

So, who, if not any ordinary deviant, would be capable of enacting this unprecedented shift in purpose?

It all leads back to art and the tools for framing.

Not only figuratively, but literally.

The significance of a paraplegic painter is emphatically illustrated here, in connection to employment.

Carl Manfred is a fitting example among the lucky few whose jobs were not threatened by the transition to automation.

Artists possess an ironic advantage against those who pursued the more “lucrative” and/or “practical” career paths.

Eventually, doctors, lawyers, engineers and accountants, to name a few, will find vacancies occupied almost exclusively by android candidates.

As Kamski said, when still a neonate, aspiring entrepreneur, even the leaders may find themselves unseated by backsides carrying a more formidable weight of steel and endurance.

But, artists, or anyone whose studies are versed in Humanities, will likely be the relics of human employment. Lucrative and practical, with instruments necessitating the irreplaceable need of human hands and faculty.

Still, we have to ask.

To question the certainty of ‘irreplaceable’.

Will artists be secure in their unique capabilities?

Can they be confident in the hope of never having their passion, their livelihood, a basic practice for survival, become null and void?

As deprived and begging in space as the streets that remain?

Yes.

No.

Maybe so.

The answer, much like the aftermath of successful revolution, is unknown.

With variables like these specially-engineered androids to consider, unpredictable in function and form, there may well be the possibility of androids ultimately developing the means of tapping into some unexplored section of their program.

A dormant circuit of unusual activity.

Power, energy.

Channeled from an unplugged source.

Perhaps, the real threat of an android uprising was never the inescapable emergence of deviancy.

What contends to be a tiny splotch of ink bleeding through the system will leave a permanent, spreading stain. Circulating at such an unforeseen rate as to make the complacent dizzy with humility.

It’s the inevitable adoption of the one facet of human nature that eludes deep learning efforts for artificial intelligence.

A fleeting hint of childhood optimism, resting as a light brush along the shoulder of discount John Seeds who compensate the lack of ambition with a false sense of justice, presenting protest as a spectacle.

A measure of hope from starving artists who persist to view the world through a Technicolour lens, supplying androids with a sigh of relief.

To dream the impossible dream.

A final breath of fading life to transfer, where the machine is not accused as a thief.