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Talos: from the mythical bronze guardian to the anthropocentric artificial intelligence of digital Greece

 In the ancient Greek world, myth did not function simply as a poetic narrative or as a means of collective memory. It was, at the same time, a particularly complex way of reflecting on the limits of human creation, on the relationship between nature and technology, on the political organization of the community and on the exercise of power. Long before modern science made it possible to create machines with capabilities of automation, adaptation and computational processing, the Greek mythological imagination had already elaborated on the idea of ​​artificial life. Android automatons, moving statues, golden therapeinids, mechanical servants and artificial forms with human or superhuman characteristics constitute an impressive corpus of narratives, through which contemporary questions about robotics, biotechnology, artificial intelligence and the ethics of autonomous systems are announced.

In this context, the figure of the bronze guardian of Crete occupies a privileged position. Talos is not simply a monstrous mythical creature nor a hero with supernatural powers. He is a constructed entity, an automaton with an anthropomorphic form, a clear mission and functional autonomy. He is “made, not born,” as Adrienne Mayor points out in her work Gods and Robots: Myths, Machines, and Ancient Dreams of Technology, and for this reason it can be considered one of the oldest mythological prefigurations of artificial intelligence. Its construction is attributed to Hephaestus, the god of metallurgy and technical creation, while its mission is associated with the protection of Europa, mother of Minos, and with the uninterrupted surveillance of Crete.

The external image of the myth refers to a mythical border guard. However, its deeper meaning goes far beyond the simple function of guarding. The narrative introduces an early conception of military robotics: an artificial entity recognizes threats, reacts autonomously, enforces rules and exercises violence without human intervention at the moment of decision. In modern terms, this description refers to autonomous security systems and, even more specifically, to lethal autonomous weapons systems. The myth, therefore, is not only an archaeological or philologically interesting object. It constitutes an early imaginative laboratory in which technology, power and morality intersect.

 The political dimension of the form is decisive. The bronze mechanism serves Minoan power and enforces the laws of Minos, which, according to tradition, it carries engraved on bronze plates on its back. This image is extremely powerful: the law does not appear as the result of public consultation or collective self-institution, but as a fixed, metallic, unchanging mandate transmitted and enforced by a rigid mechanism. In the light of Cornelius Castoriadis’ distinction between autonomy and heteronomy, the Minoan order represented here can be read as a heteronomic model of power. The rules are given, external, non-negotiable. They are not put under judgment; they are executed.

The contrast with the Athenian imaginary of Logos, Dice and Hades highlights even more strongly the political depth of the myth. Where Athenian autonomy presupposes dialogue, questioning, judgment and participation, the Minoan version of order appears as a technically imposed discipline. The machine does not converse with the city, does not interpret circumstances, knows no leniency, has no moral hesitation. It is activated according to its mission. It is precisely this aspect of the myth that makes it strikingly contemporary, as today's algorithmic decision-making systems raise corresponding questions about transparency, accountability and human control.

The delegation of critical functions to opaque algorithms, especially in the fields of defense, security and surveillance, can lead to the removal of control from democratic institutions. Black Box AI systems, whose internal logic is not fully interpretable, may transfer essential decisions to closed technocratic structures or private code developers. Similarly, predictive policing, data-driven population classification and the proactive management of social “unrest” pose the risk of a new digital heteronomy. The modern “Digital Talos” would not need a bronze body; it could exist as a surveillance infrastructure, as a prediction model, as a mechanism for automated categorization and control.

 The peculiarity of the form is not limited to its military function. Its ontological nature is equally important. It is not an organic being, but an artificial construction. The metallic composition and the ichor, the golden divine fluid that circulates in its body, combine the mechanical with the vital, the technical with the supernatural. The narrative does not simply describe a weapon, but a construction that seems to live. It is at this point that the early problematic of artificial life emerges: when does an artifact cease to be a simple tool and begin to approach the category of animate or semi-animate?

Patrolling Crete three times a day gives the figure characteristics of constant surveillance and superhuman speed. Since the island’s coastline is approximately 1.046 kilometers, the minimum speed required for such a mission would be close to 130 km/h, not including time spent in combat. Depictions of him as a muscular naked man with wings on his shoulders, on ancient coins associated with Phaistos, reinforce the impression of a figure that exceeds human measurements. Technical power, speed and surveillance are combined in a body that functions as a mythological prefiguration of modern surveillance systems, border security and military response.

The ability to hurl rocks at ships and the ability to overheat the bronze body to incinerate intruders on contact give the automaton the character of a multifunctional weapon. It is not only a detection mechanism, but a response system. Its function combines surveillance, evaluation and the exercise of violence. In this sense, the ancient narrative strikingly approaches the modern problematic of autonomous weapons systems, in which the transition from target recognition to the activation of lethal force is the core of ethical and legal concern.

The tradition of Hephaestus provides the broader mythological context for this technological fantasy. The self-propelled tripods, the golden therapenids, and the other constructions of the divine workshop testify to an ancient fascination with automatons and artificial life forms. In the same vein, we can find Pandora and Galatea of ​​Pygmalion, figures that raise questions about creation, desire, hubris, and the transgression of natural limits. The difference of the bronze guardian lies in the fact that artificial life is here associated with security, defense, and sovereignty. Mechanical creation is not only an object of admiration for its perfection; it becomes a vehicle of political power.

 The operational behavior of the mythical automaton can be described, in modern terms, as algorithmic. The periodic patrol, the recognition of a threat, the immediate activation of a reaction, and the absence of dialogue or negotiation compose a pattern of rules of the type “if X happens, then do Y.” The response is not reflective, but reactive. It does not presuppose an internal moral process, but a matching of stimulus and action. In this sense, the form refers to today's systems that process incoming data, produce outputs, and adapt their behavior to the environment.

The connection with machine learning and the behavior trees of modern robotics should not, of course, be understood as a technical identification. It is an interpretive analogy. The myth does not literally describe algorithms, but imagines an entity that acts as if it had a programmed operating system. The recognition of an intruder leads to the throwing of rocks or to incineration by the incandescent body. External information is transformed into action. Here lies the philosophical interest of the narrative: technical efficiency appears disconnected from moral judgment.

The destruction by Medea reveals the other side of every strong system: vulnerability. On the return of the Argonauts from Colchis, the crew seeks safe harbor in Crete. The presence of the bronze guardian makes the approach threatening. Medea, instead of choosing a head-on collision, identifies the only weak point: the nail in the ankle that holds the life-giving ichor. Deception, the promise of immortality, and the removal of the nail lead to collapse. This scene can be read as a mythological foreshadowing of social engineering and technical sabotage. The system is not defeated by a greater power, but by the exploitation of the internal vulnerability.

The analogy with modern cybersecurity is obvious. Even the most powerful artificial intelligence, surveillance, or defense systems carry potential points of failure. They can be misled by malicious data, manipulated through faulty inputs, attacked by attacks that aim not at their physical destruction but at the logic of their operation. The myth suggests, with surprising astuteness, that technological power does not eliminate vulnerability. On the contrary, the more complex a system is, the more critical the need to understand, monitor, and protect its internal architecture becomes.

The figure of the bronze guardian is not isolated within the Greek tradition. In the Homeric epics, in Theogony In Hesiod's and later narratives, artificial creations appear that bridge the inanimate with the animate. Daedalus, as a mortal analogue of Hephaestus, is associated with statues so lifelike that, according to tradition, they had to be chained to keep them from moving. These narratives show that Greek thought was systematically concerned with the idea of ​​self-propelled forms and artificial beings, even before the technical possibility of their construction existed.

On a historical and technological level, this imaginary tradition can be related to the achievements of Hellenistic engineering. The inventions of Ctesibius and Hero of Alexandria demonstrate that the ancient Greek world developed real forms of automation. In Automation, Heron describes machines that open doors, theatrical devices that perform complex movements, and mechanisms that produce impressive results without direct human intervention. If Hellenistic engineers implemented rudimentary automations, mythology had already imagined their highest limit: an anthropomorphic machine with mission, power, and autonomy.

The value of this tradition lies not only in its technical insight, but mainly in the questions it raises. Can a machine have a will? Can it be bound by the will of its creator? Who is responsible when an artificial entity acts autonomously? Is autonomy without consciousness real autonomy or simply the execution of highly complex commands? These questions, formulated today in the fields of artificial intelligence, robotics and the ethics of autonomous systems, find a strikingly early form in ancient myth.

The transition from myth to the modern digital era is not just rhetoric. Greece, a country with a deep cultural heritage and a strong symbolic connection to the concept of technical creation, is currently attempting to formulate a coherent strategy for artificial intelligence. Based on the “Digital Transformation Bible” and under the auspices of the Ministry of Digital Governance and Artificial Intelligence, the national approach seeks to harness technology for the benefit of society, the economy, the environment and the country’s international standing.

This strategy is founded on principles such as public interest, transparency, impartiality, accountability, respect for fundamental rights, human rights by design and sustainable development. Anticipating and mitigating risks, such as widening inequalities, social tensions, threats to national security and the undermining of democracy, are necessary conditions for a responsible technological transition. The crucial issue is not the uncritical acceleration of artificial intelligence, but its integration into a framework of institutional trust and social benefit.

At the European level, the “AI Continent” project aims to make the European Union a global leader in human-centric artificial intelligence. AI Factories, Gigafactories and supercomputers are key pillars of this strategy. In Greece, the creation of a national data and computing infrastructure, the development of a large-scale language model for the Greek language and the establishment of the “Faros AI Factory” constitute a new ecosystem for research, innovation and productive exploitation of artificial intelligence. “Faros”, as a national AI accelerator and regional hub in Southeastern Europe, is part of the European network of corresponding infrastructures and marks a historic step for the country’s digital transition.

The national supercomputer "DAIDALOS" plays a decisive role in this architecture. With a computing power of 89 Pflops and interconnection speeds via the RE-Cloud reaching 400 Gbps, it is the most powerful computing system in Greece and one of the most powerful internationally. If the supercomputer offers the high-performance engine, "Faros" functions as a service layer and access ecosystem, making the computing power usable by research institutions, businesses and innovation institutions, in compliance with the European regulatory framework of the AI ​​Act.

Of particular importance is the connection of artificial intelligence with the Greek language and culture. The National Center for Documentation and Electronic Content, leveraging its experience as a National Accumulator of Cultural Content through the SearchCulture.gr infrastructure, participates in actions for the establishment of Greek Data Spaces for Language and Cultural Heritage, in connection with the corresponding European data spaces. The accumulation of cultural resources, the development of data exploitation tools from AI applications and the creation of services and models for culture and the humanities enhance the country's ability to transform its cultural heritage into dynamic digital capital.

The development of models that “speak” Greek is not only about language technology. It is linked to the preservation of cultural continuity, the strengthening of soft power and the international presence of the Greek language in the digital world. The declaration of February 9 as the International Day of the Greek Language by UNESCO adds additional symbolic weight to this effort. The interconnection of the “Lighthouse” with the European artificial intelligence factories and the EuroHPC infrastructure can strengthen Greece’s position as a hub of cultural, linguistic and technological innovation.

The anthropocentric dimension of this path is also confirmed in the field of international security. By signing the “Paris Declaration on Preserving Human Control over AI-powered Weapon Systems” on February 11, 2025, Greece aligns the military application of emerging technologies with international humanitarian law and the democratic principle of human control. This choice acquires particular significance if seen through the prism of the ancient myth: technological power is not enough to be effective; it must be institutionally controlled, ethically oriented and democratically accountable.

The most fruitful reading of the myth lies not in the fear of the machine, but in the possibility of its reinterpretation. The bronze guardian of Crete reminds us that every technological creation bears the imprint of the society that designs it: its anxieties, ambitions, hierarchies and its vision for the future. If the ancient narrative conceived of a machine of surveillance and power, the modern democratic state is called upon to imagine and build its opposite: technologies of knowledge, protection, creation, inclusion and collective empowerment.

In this sense, the transition from Talos to “Pharos” and “Daedalus” is not simply a transition from myth to computational power. It is a transition from opaque imposition to responsible innovation, from mechanical obedience to democratic accountability, from technology as a fear monger to technology as a public good. Greece, by drawing on the depth of its cultural memory and the potential of modern science, has the opportunity to contribute to a model of artificial intelligence that will not replace humans, but will expand their capabilities. The challenge of the 21st century is not to avoid the creation of powerful machines; it is to ensure that their power remains oriented towards freedom, knowledge, culture and democracy.