By: Rénald Fortier
Ingenium – Canada's Museums of Science and Innovation
“I am Robert Robot, mechanical man. Drive me and steer me wherever you can:” A little technological jewel dating from the dark days of the Cold War, Robert the Robot, part 1
Robert the Robot, a toy robot commercialised by an American firm, Ideal Toy Corporation, unknown location, 1954. The identity of the young boy is also unknown. Anon., “Un jouet américain pour les petits Russes.” Le Soleil, 1 May 1959, 7.
Toy, glorious toy, they were anxious to try it. They being the bright eyed and bushy tailed children growing up during the dark days of the Cold War, and it being the technological jewel known as Robert the Robot.
And yes, the topic of this week’s peroration will be a toy robot. Do we have a problem? […] Good. Let us proceed.
As you undoubtedly discovered when you perambulated through the brand-new exhibition of the Canada Aviation and Space Museum, in Ottawa, Ontario, the Cold War was not a fun time. It was not safe out there. It was wondrous, with treasures to satiate desires both subtle and gross, but it was not for the timid. And yes, yours truly was paraphrasing, out of context, an annoying, if not downright obnoxious extradimensional being of unknown origin known as Q (Hello EP, EG and SB!), and…
What is it I see on my computer screen?! You have yet to visit the museum to see that wondrous exhibition?! I am truly disappointed. You should really have a look, you know, but not now. So, back to Robert.
The late 1940s and early 1950s saw the beginnings of televisual science fiction. And yes, my telephile reading friend, most of the shows in question were indeed spacey in nature. And they were almost exclusively American. Robot enthusiasts would have found little of interest therein and… You wish to read (see?) the titles of those television shows, do you not, my reading friend eager for information. Well, here they are. The titles of those television shows will probably not ring a bell, though…
Captain Video and His Video Rangers (1949-55)
Space Patrol (1950-55)
Buck Rogers (1950-51)
Tom Corbett, Space Cadet (1950-55)
Tales of Tomorrow (1951-1953)
Out There (1951-52)
Space Command (1953-54)
Johnny Jupiter (1953-54)
Rod Brown of the Rocket Rangers (1953-54)
Operation Neptune (1953)
Atom Squad (1953-54)
The Quatermass Experiment (1953)
Rocky Jones, Space Ranger (1954)
Flash Gordon (1954-55)
The Quatermass Experiment was the only non-North American show in that list, by the way. And yes, it was produced in England.
Space Command, on the other hand, was the first Canadian science fiction television series. Yours truly pontificated about it in a March 2023 issue of our incomparable blog / bulletin / thingee.
Movie theatres were somewhat more propitious locations for robot enthusiasts of the late 1940s and early 1950s, with offerings like…
The Perfect Woman (1949, United Kingdom)
The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951, United States)
Mother Riley Meets the Vampire (1952, United Kingdom)
Robot Monster (1953, United States)
Gog (1954, United States)
Tobor the Great (1954, United States)
Even young robot enthusiasts had something to sink their baby teeth into, namely Push-Button Kitty (1952) and Robot Rabbit (1953), two rather amusing if surprisingly violent American animated cartoons which starred Tom and Jerry on the one hand, and Bugs Bunny and Elmer J. Fudd on the other, and…
Your bewildered look leads me to think that you do not quite understand what Mother Riley Meets the Vampire is doing in our list of robot motion pictures. You see, the self-described vampire in question wanted to take over the world with an army of robots. His first functional robot was, however, accidentally shipped to an Irish washerwoman / charwoman named Daphne Bluebell Snowdrop Riley, in other words Old Mother Riley. Mayhem inevitably ensued.
Yours truly would be remiss if I did not mention the robot invented by Marmaduke Coot, a cousin of a certain duck named Donald. Yes, Donald Fauntleroy Duck. That robot was one of the protagonists of a story published in the March-April 1953 issue of the comic book Donald Duck. The name of that mechanical entity was of course Robert the Robot. And no, that Robert had nothing to do with our Robert.
There were of course countless, and more or less forgotten, robot stories to be found in the science fiction magazines of the time. Some of those stories were also published as novels. A case in point would be The Caves of Steel, a classic 1953 (magazine text) / 1954 (book) tale by the Russian American writer / biochemistry professor Isaac Asimov, born Isaac Yudovich Azimov, a science fiction giant mentioned in January 2020, February 2021 and April 2022 issues of our quite gigantic blog / bulletin / thingee, but back to Robert.
A bit of digging revealed that the alliterative appellation Robert the Robot was not exactly new in the early to mid 1950s. Nay.
A mechanical human by that name inaugurated the annual Model Engineering Exhibition at the Royal Horticultural Hall, in London, England, in September 1928. That Robert the Robot rose from its seat and spoke. And yes, that robot was / is much better known by another name, Eric the Robot.
In 1929, some American golfers used the moniker Robert the Robot to describe the American lawyer and uncannily gifted amateur golf player Robert Tyre “Bobby” Jones, Junior.
In 1933, the Scottish magistrate / amateur historian / author / antiquary Joseph Storer Clouston published a humourous science fiction-ish novel entitled Button Brains. The buttons in question were those concealed in various locations of an amazing and amazingly human looking robot designed by a brilliant inventor. And you know the name of the fascinating automaton imagined by Clouston, do you not, my attentive reading friend?
Another Robert the Robot could be found at the University of Minnesota. Philip S. Brain, the tennis coach at that American institution of high learning, trained his pupils with a tennis ball shooter so identified no later than 1935.
In September 1937, a 16 year old resident of Rutland, Vermont, got tired of directing people flocking to the Rutland Fair to a parking lot he operated near the family home. He therefore used a variety of materials and objects, from wood and cardboard to headphones and glasses, to put together a robot-like device, Robert the Robot, whose right arm waved the automobiles to said parking lot. The teenager’s name was… Harley Davidson. I kid you not and… You do not believe me, now do you? Sigh… Here is proof, ye doubting Thomas / Thomasina.
Harley Davidson and Robert the Robot, Rutland, Vermont. Anon., “Young Inventor Creates Robot to Help Park Autos.” Rutland Daily Herald, 11 September 1937, 7.
Would you believe that Davidson completed several other robots in 1937-39, and that a few of them could actually walk?
Speaking (typing?) of walking, a constable of the Lancashire Constabulary by the name of John Gardner devised another Robert the Robot. Installed on a street corner in Farnworth or Bolton, England, no later than March 1949, that anthropomorphic street sign proved to be quite popular with schoolchildren, and this despite the fact that it gently admonished them when they jaywalked.
And there was also Remarkable Robert the Robot, the main protagonist of a pair of advertisements published in at least 2 American daily newspapers, in December 1949, in Iowa, and in October 1950, in Kentucky. The first one starred in an advertisement for a local bakery, while the second one starred in an advertisement sponsored by local doctors and dentists which denounced the national compulsory health insurance program put forward by the administration headed by President Harry S. Truman, a gentleman mentioned in January and July 2022 issues of our pretty darn good blog / bulletin / thingee.
A United States Savings Bonds advertisement of the United States Department of the Treasury which used a Robert the Robot as a hook. Anon., “United States Department of the Treasury.” The Bureau County Tribune, 16 December 1949, 7.
A United States Savings Bonds advertisement of the United States Department of the Treasury which used a Robert the Robot as a hook. Anon., “United States Department of the Treasury.” The Bureau County Tribune, 16 December 1949, 7.
The robot in those ads were blatant copies of the Robert the Robot found in the advertisements promoting the acquisition of United States Savings Bonds which appeared in newspapers no later than December 1949, and…
Yes, yes, you read correctly, my incredulous reading friend. Truman wanted to implement a national compulsory health insurance program. Even though a bill to that effect was introduced in the United States House of Representatives and United States Senate in 1949, the United States Congress adjourned in October without passing it.
The ferocious (and egotistical?) lobbying efforts of the American Medical Association and its allies simply overwhelmed any effort to move forward.
I, for one, am deeply grateful that similarly ferocious (and egotistical?) efforts in Canada proved unsuccessful and that the publicly funded healthcare system of Canada became a reality, but I digress.
What appears to be the most enigmatic 1950s robot named Robert was the one which, from early 1952 onward, toiled in and around the home of a young English actress, Diana Dors, born Diana Mary Fluck, and her English spouse, an engineering firm representative and Second World War pilot, the slightly unsavoury Dennis Hamilton Gittins.
You see, Robert was undoubtedly the robot named George that a former English journalist / printer / soldier and amateur engineer by the name of William Henry Richards had designed in the very early 1930s. Indeed, George might, I repeat might, have wowed crowds from March or April 1931 onward.
Incidentally, George was the second robot designed by Richards. The first one, the aforementioned Eric, completed in 1928, was the very first robot completed in the United Kingdom.
Fearing for the safety of his creation, yes, George, Richards buried it on the grounds of an automobile dealer in the suburbs of London, England, not too long after the onset of the Second World War. Sadly, Cheam Motors Limited suffered a direct hit during a German bombing raid and George was seriously damaged.
No one knows how Gittins got his hands on the robot but it is clear that someone spent a great deal of time and effort repairing it.
News reports which hinted that Gittins was the brains behind Robert did not go down too well within the sons of Richards, who had died in December 1948 at the age of 80. They contacted him to discuss the robot’s ownership but things did not go end well. You see, Gittins allegedly physically assaulted George Richards.
It has been suggested that Gittins considered the possibility using the robot in a science fiction movie in which his spouse would star. That project went nowhere.
And no, the current whereabouts of George / Robert the robot are unknown.
Incidentally, George Richards eventually emigrated to Canada with his spouse and children, but back to our toy robot.
Countless representatives of American toy making firms flocked to New York City, New York, to attend the 51st edition of the American Toy Fair, held between 8 and 17 March 1954. Among them were representatives of Ideal Toy Corporation. In their suitcases were examples of a brand new toy. That plastic toy was, you guessed it, Robert the Robot.
Yes, yes, plastic. Robert the Robot was apparently the very first robot toy manufactured in the United States, if not the world, to include a fair amount of plastic, for the body which covered and protected its metal structure.
Even the look of Robert the Robot was new. No other robot of the time wore what could be described as an angular skirt. The use of that skirt allowed Ideal Toy designers to create a robot which could walk without legs, a robot which was less wobbly and liable to fall.
American and Japanese toy designers soon noticed the skirt worn by our friend and copied it.
And yes, you are quite correct. The plastic material which made up Robert the Robot’s body was cheaper than metal, which allowed American firms like Ideal Toy to produce their own robots and successfully compete with Japanese firms which produced tinplate robots – and the American firms which imported them.
And here is a brief 1950s video about our robotic friend…
You may wish to note that the origin story in that video did not fully mesh with another origin story that yours truly came across.
You see, one of the brains behind Robert the Robot might, I repeat might, have been an American doctoral student (microbial genetics) at Columbia University. Lewis L. Jacobs allegedly used the royalty moolah he got from Ideal Toy to help pay his studies.
Developing the robot presumably took several months.
And yes, the Lionel A. Weintraub mentioned in the video was a real person. He had joined the staff of Ideal Toy around 1941. A United States Army intelligence officer during the Second World War, Weintraub completed a Master’s Degree in English literature, presumably after the conflict. (Hello, EP!) By 1955, he was Vice-President of Ideal Toy.
Mind you, the chairperson of the board of directors of Ideal Toy, Benjamin Franklin Michtom, also had a say in the decision to proceed with the development of Robert the Robot.
And no, our robotic friend was not the only toy idea Jacobs had sold to that firm. In earlier years, he had suggested a ray gun and a more down to earth air compressor truck and trailer.
Robert the Robot sold for about US $ 6, a sum which corresponds to about $ 93 in 2024 Canadian currency, which is not cheap, at least to a penny-pinching person like me.
Mind you, some pedal-powered toy automobiles sold for US $ 35, a sum which corresponds to more than $ 540 in 2024 Canadian currency. Yikes!
Would you believe that the collective value of the toys produced by American firms for use during the 1954 Christmas season hovered around US $ 450 000 000, a staggering sum which corresponds to a no less staggering $ 7 000 000 000 in 2024 Canadian currency? Yes, yes, 7 billion dollars.
And if you think that was a big pile of dough, please note that the retail sales of toys in the Unites States in 2023 amounted to, wait for it, wait for it, $ 38 000 000 000 in 2024 Canadian currency, buck back to Robert the Robot.
Controlled via a handheld device, the 35 or so centimetre (14 or so inches) high mechanical human with lit up eyes and antenna, powered by a battery and activated by a knob, could move forward, backward and sideways. It could clutch small objects in its cylindrical, Lego-like hands. It could even talk. Well, a little. Actually, its entire vocabulary seemingly consisted of a couple of sentences: “I am Robert Robot, mechanical man. Drive me and steer me wherever you can.”
Would you believe that those words were recorded on a teeny tiny record player hidden in the toy’s chest? And yes, the robot’s voice was scratchy and squawky like you would not believe. Incidentally, to hear Robert speak, one had to crank a handle on its back.
The record player in question had not been invented by Ideal Toy, however. Nay. That talking device / voice box was the brainchild of an American arranger / composer / inventor / orchestrator, Theodore Roosevelt “Ted” Duncan, founder of Ted Duncan Incorporated.
The management of Ideal Toy were bowled over by Duncan’s invention. It soon incorporated said invention in other toys, namely the Talking FBI Car and the “Dragnet” Police Car, Dragnet being a very popular and influential American police procedural television series broadcasted between 1951 and 1959. Another Ideal Toy toy fitted with a Duncan talking device was the Patti Prays doll.
A brief digression, if I may. I vaguely remember seeing at least several episodes of a dubbed version of Dragnet, Coup de filet, in the late 1960s or early 1970s, but back to Robert.
To see Robert move forward, one had to turn a crank on a pistol-like controller. That rotating movement was transmitted to a flex cable which linked the controller to the driving wheels of the robot. And yes, the arms of the robot moved as it moved. Reversing the rotation of the crank made the toy move backward. Pressing on the trigger of the controller moved the front steering wheels of the toy, sending it where its young operator wanted to have her or his next adventure.
It is worth noting that the preproduction version of the controller was teardrop-shaped. For some reason or other, Ideal Toy chose to mass produce a far more angular and pistol-like controller.
And yes, my eagle-eyed reading friend, the controller in the photograph at the beginning of this article was indeed tear-dropped shaped, which meant that, even though it was published in May 1959, that photograph showed a very early example of our robotic friend.
And yes again, my eagle-eyed reading friend who can be annoying, yours truly chose to use an image which was not the one found in Le Soleil, a newspaper published in Québec, Québec. I found a good quality image online and used that one instead. So there.
I can only presume that the odd-looking headgear worn by the boy in the photograph was also an Ideal Toy product.
Incidentally, Robert the Robot had its own tool kit, stored in a small enclosed space in its chest.
No other robot available on the market in 1954 was as cool as Robert the Robot. One could argue that, for many children and tweens, ray guns and space helmets did not cut the mustard when compared to our robotic friend. It was therefore no surprise that Robert the Robot became the first toy robot to become an American star.
Dare one state that it was the Rolls-Royce of the toy robot world?
And yes, some of the overjoyed children and tweens who got one of those toy robots as a gift were fascinated by its bells and whistles to such an extent that they took it apart to see what made it tick. Sadly, few of them knew how to reassemble their precious toy. The parents of those budding engineers were presumably not amused.
Interestingly, at least to yours truly, Robert the Robot was not the first toy robot. Nay, it was not. That honour seemingly belongs to Riripatto Robotto, in other words Lilliput robot, a yellow windup Japanese tinplate toy produced between 1938 and 1941 or sometime after 1945 by the toy division of Kuramochi Kabushiki Kaisha, I think. That toy robot could walk, but only forward, I think. Again.
And yes, a pristine condition example of Riripatto Robotto was worth a pretty penny in 2024.
Production of a second Japanese toy robot seemingly began only in 1949 when toy manufacturers began to retrieve and recycle ginormous numbers of food cans discarded by members of the American occupation forces stationed in Japan.
You see, during the weeks, months and years (1945-52) of said occupation, one of the main preoccupations of the de facto ruler of Japan, United States Army General of the Army Douglas MacArthur, was the industrial reconstruction / rehabilitation of Japan.
Japan would not be allowed to compete with manufacturing industries that the American government deeply cared about, of course. If truth be told, the idea was to give Japanese firms all the low profit, high labor and small item industries that the American government no longer cared about. Japanese firms would henceforth be allowed to produce items like cheap cameras, radios and toys.
Ironically, Japanese firms would eventually dominate world markets with their reasonably priced yet high quality cameras. Other firms would produce highly successful portable radios and audio players, not to mention highly successful video games. The universe, it seemed, had a sense of humour.
And yes, my astute reading friend. If production of Riripatto Robotto began sometime after 1945, the toy division of Kuramochi also retrieved and recycled food cans, but back to the second Japanese toy robot.
The khaki grey Atomikku robotto man, in other words atomic robot man, was exported in some number to the United States. A few of them were present at the New York Science Fiction Conference held in… New York City in July 1950. If truth be told, that windup toy had in all likelihood been designed specifically for export.
Atomikku robotto man might have sold for as little as US $ 0.49, a sum which corresponds to about $ 8.60 in 2024 Canadian currency. And yes, that toy robot hit American shelves in time for the 1949 Christmas season.
Would you believe that the artwork on the robot’s box depicted it marching down a city street over which the mushroom cloud of an exploding nuclear bomb could be seen? I kid you not.
Another Japanese robot seemingly reached the shores of the United States around 1950-51. Produced by Arupusu Shōji Kabushiki Kaisha, a firm better known as Alps, Misutārobotto kikai no zunō, in other words Mr. Robot, the mechanical brain, was in all likelihood designed specifically for export. That silvery toy robot was unusual in that it was both a windup toy and a battery operated one. It could walk, but only forward.
By then, one of the first if not the first American toy robot had hit the shelves – and vanished from them. That beautiful and exceedingly rare and valuable plaything was Mr. Sandman, the Robot, a clever metal toy commercialised in 1945 by Wolverine Supply & Manufacturing Company.
How clever was it, you ask, my reading friend? Well, let me tell you. Once disassembled, Mr. Sandman, the Robot turned into no less than 6 separate toys that a child could play with in a sand box: 2 molds (the robot’s feet), 1 pail (torso), 1 shovel (shovel), 1 sieve (shoulder blade) and 1 sprinkler (head).
And no, contrary to the situation with poor olde Humpty Dumpty, one did not need all the king’s horses and all the king’s men to put Mr. Sandman, the Robot, together again. A child could do that in seconds, but back to Robert, but not until next week. Sorry.
Rénald Fortier
More Stories by
![A block of photographs showing some of the people involved in the bombing of beluga whales in the estuary and gulf of the St. Lawrence River. Anon., “La chasse aux marsouins [sic]. » Le Devoir, 15 August 1929, 6.](/sites/default/files/styles/thumbnail_7/public/2024-09/Le%20Devoir%2015%20aout%201929%20page%206.jpg?h=584f1d27&itok=TppdLItg)
![Peter Müller at the controls [sic] of the Pedroplan, Berlin, Germany, March 1931. Anon., “Cologne contre Marseille – Le mystère du ‘Pédroplan.’ [sic]” Les Ailes, 2 April 1931, 14.](/sites/default/files/styles/thumbnail_7/public/2021-04/Les%20Ailes%202%20avril%201931%20version%20big.jpg?h=eafd0ed4&itok=WnBZ5gMf)
![One of the first de Havilland Canada Chipmunk imported to the United Kingdom. Anon., “De Havilland [Canada] DHC-1 ‘Chipmunk.’” Aviation Magazine, 1 January 1951, cover.](/sites/default/files/styles/thumbnail_7/public/2021-01/Aviation%20magazine%201er%20janvier%201951%20version%202.jpg?h=2f876e0f&itok=DM4JHe5C)
