Humanities & Cultures

I suppose I can see how this is a solution to a problem, just not the one in play.

I just can't see this being anything other than boring. Partners are supposed to be predictable to a certain point -- it's nice to cuddle up without worrying about being murdered -- but that's not what I'm looking for with coding.

That said, this:

Asked about the company’s responsibilities or processes if a doll was asked to be modelled on a real person without their knowledge, a spokesperson at Coeros told the Guardian: “The fact that a custom design can be created from reference images should not be interpreted as permission to use another person’s likeness without their consent. We do not encourage or support the use of our customisation service for harassment, impersonation, or other non-consensual purposes.” Details for prospective buyers on the website include specific services from eyebrow hair implantation to shipping, but do not appear to include any directions as to obtaining the permission of women in any photographs uploaded. One member of the Doll Forum wrote of Coeros’s invention: “The most obvious candidates are the ones who turned you down, the ones that got away, the ones you had no hope of winning.”

That last quote is pretty damning. The one who I had no chance of winning turned me down in 2004, and she was in my bed last week. Oh, and we've been divorced for a decade, so she also falls under "the one who got away."

But Jesus Christ, the last thing I'd want is something modeled after her. I have a propensity for adopting Korats because they're going to have a consistent baseline of characteristics, but recreating my ex-wife is beyond dystopian.

Bluntly, I know how her body works holistically, so an AI vagina isn't going to provide the package deal. Also, if I'm going to be impaled by cone spikes, they'd better be on a real person.

Worthwhile relationships include friction and, well, skin contact.

Anyway, now that I've shot my load, here's the opening:

Two weeks ago, two distressed citizens stumbled across what they assumed was the mangled corpse of a woman, stuffed into a suitcase in a small town about three hours south of Sydney. They called the local police, who in turn issued a statement that a body in a suitcase had been found. The wider public waited sombrely for Australia’s tally of dead women to tick up by one.

But instead, a day later, after forensic analysis, it was determined that the woman in question wasn’t a woman at all. The “body” was that of a sex doll, marked with fake bruises, left to rot on a lonely dirt road. In Australia, as in the UK and some other European countries, it is not illegal to own a sex doll unless it resembles a child. Given the doll’s seemingly mature presentation, police investigations were called off.

The sex doll trade is flourishing. A 2026 market analysis estimates that the global market was valued at US$6.6bn in 2025, with a projection that it will more than double, to US$13.4bn, by 2033. As the market booms, and involves increasingly lifelike facsimiles of women, does how these dolls get treated matter?

And when a sex doll with “bruises” and rain-matted hair is tucked into a suitcase and left on a roadside, should we be concerned?

I'd argue the answer is yes.