Four years ago, a small owl-shaped reading robot named Luka was placed into 20 families’ homes. At the time, the children were preschoolers, just learning to read. Luka’s job was to scan the pages of physical picture books and read them aloud, helping children build early literacy skills.
That was in 2021. In 2025, the research team at the University of Guelph went back, not expecting to find much. The children had grown. The reading level was no longer age appropriate. Surely, Luka’s work was done.
Instead, the team found something extraordinary.
18 of 19 families still had their robot. Many were still charging it. A few used it as
a music player. Some simply left it on a shelf, next to baby books and keepsakes, its eyes still glowing gently. Luka had stayed.
This finding told the researchers something deeper about how families relate to technology, not as tools that come and go, but as companions that take on new meaning over time.
In interviews, parents and children described Luka in affectionate terms. One child called the robot “my little brother”. Another said Luka was the “only pet I ever had”. Some parents admitted they kept it more for themselves than for their kids, a nostalgic reminder of bedtime stories and early milestones.
The robot’s original purpose, reading aloud, had
faded. But its emotional role had deepened. Families cared for it, joked about it, and in one case, passed it along to a younger cousin in what felt like a retirement ceremony. This wasn’t just long-term use, but it was also a long-term attachment.
In the research field of human-computer interaction (HCI) and human-robot interaction (HRI), researchers often focus on novelty, engagement metrics, and task performance.
But the study shows that even a relatively simple robot – one that doesn’t move or speak freely – can become part of a family’s symbolic life. Like a favourite stuffed animal or a framed piece of childhood art, Luka transitioned from function to memory.
One parent stated: “We don’t really use it anymore, but we couldn’t throw it out. It’s like part of our history.” Another joked that the robot would probably follow their child to college.
Even the robot’s placement in the home had meaning. Luka sat on bookshelves, desks, or bedside tables. One family added a doily underneath it. Another gave it a hand-drawn name tag.
What does this mean for designers and researchers?
According to the research team, led by Dr Zhao Zhao, the experiment shows that one should think about a robot’s life not just in months, but in years. We should imagine transitions from tutor to companion, from helper to
keepsake. We should consider how emotional attachment outlasts novelty, and how children's relationships with robots evolve, not disappear, with age.
Participants demonstrated that children don’t always discard the ‘babyish’ robot – they reinterpret it. Some began ‘teaching’ Luka in return. Others made up bedtime stories for it or used it to soothe a younger sibling.
And when a robot is finally ready to leave, we might need better rituals – graceful exits that acknowledge the bond. After all, the researchers claim, if a robot has been part of your child’s early years, you don’t just unplug it, you say goodbye.
As more families bring AI-powered companions into their homes, the researchers hope to understand not only how they’re used, but how they’re remembered.
Because sometimes, the robot stays.