I’ve been thinking about my robot vacuum lately. It springs to life every weekday at 8:15, and gets to work trying to clean up the downstairs.
It’s not very good at the job. It’s always bumping into chairs, which don’t stay in the locations on its little digital robotic map. It gets stuck on the ledge of the wood stove pad, or trapped in the bathroom, or stalled out by a rubber band that it swallows. It tries and tries to get itself out of these situations, and either drains its battery in the attempt or gives up and beeps for some help.
On any given day, what it does is not very impressive. But it’s still marvelous and terrifying to behold the amount of dirt that comes out of its little belly every day. And because of its diligence and persistence, our floors are cleaner than they’ve ever been.
Continued, imperfect effort is an enormous force for good.
