In several cities across the nation, law enforcement agencies are increasingly turning to dog-like robots for various policing tasks. Recently, the Los Angeles City Council approved a nearly $280,000 in-kind donation of a quadruped robot from the Los Angeles Police Foundation. This decision came after months of heated public debate—with some protesters chanting “No Robot Dogs” and others applauding—at a council meeting where the controversial acceptance vote passed 8–4. The donated unit, built by Boston Dynamics and known as “Spot,” is roughly the size of a golden retriever, weighs about 70 pounds, and stands approximately 2 feet tall when in motion. It can be operated remotely or function autonomously, climb stairs, open doors, and can be outfitted with sensors for detecting hazardous substances, along with cameras, microphones, and thermal imaging capabilities.
The council’s decision to accept the donation comes with a requirement for quarterly reports detailing how and where the robot is used—a stipulation mandated by Assembly Bill 481, which now obliges police departments to seek approval and establish usage policies before obtaining military-grade equipment. However, while Los Angeles has adopted a cautious approach, other cities like New York are moving forward with less oversight. The NYPD, for example, plans to deploy two Boston Dynamics robots (financed by asset forfeiture funds) alongside a surveillance unit known as the K5, sparking further debate over transparency and accountability.
Critics highlight a troubling lack of publicly available data on the number of such devices in use and on their overall performance. Criminologists and surveillance experts note that there is little independent research confirming the safety, effectiveness, or failure rates of these systems. This opacity raises concerns about the potential for excessive surveillance—particularly in lower-income areas and communities of color, which historically face disproportionate police scrutiny.
Beyond surveillance worries, there is unease about “mission creep.” Experts argue that as these technologies are refined for greater accuracy, there is a risk they may lead to harsher policing measures and, ultimately, increased incarceration rates. The possibility of these robots being armed—potentially with Tasers or other weapons—adds another layer of alarm. Although Boston Dynamics asserts it forbids any unauthorized weaponization of its products (and promises to deactivate any unit that is armed), the fear remains that such devices could eventually morph into fully autonomous, armed machines reminiscent of dystopian fiction.
The use of robotic systems in policing is not entirely new. The first bomb disposal robot was developed by the British Army in 1972 to manage car bombs in Northern Ireland. Today, however, these robots are deployed in a wide array of situations—from tactical interventions and crowd control to surveillance and even public health initiatives, as seen during the COVID-19 pandemic in various cities.
While the LAPD’s new usage policy restricts the Boston Dynamics robot to specific tactical scenarios and forbids the use of facial recognition and weaponization, many questions remain unanswered. How will law enforcement agencies store, manage, and potentially share the vast amounts of surveillance data these robots collect? And how will ongoing public concerns about privacy, transparency, and racial bias be addressed?
In summary, as robotic police canines become more prevalent, it is crucial for policymakers and the public alike to demand rigorous oversight, clear usage data, and comprehensive safeguards to ensure that these advanced technologies serve the community without compromising civil liberties.
