I Little Lost Robot (1947) berättar någon en robot med en modifierad första lag att gå vilse i starka ord, och det tar ordningen bokstavligen och gömmer sig bland 62 identiska robotar.
“You told him to go away?” asked Dr. Calvin with sharp interest. “In just those words? Did you say ‘Go away’? Try to remember the exact words.”
There was apparently an internal struggle in progress. Black cradled his forehead in a broad palm for a moment, then tore it away and said defiantly, “I said, ‘Go lose yourself.’”
Bogert laughed for a short moment. “And he did, eh?”
I Risk (1954) antas en robot att styra en prototyp rymdskepp med en hyperdrive, men det misslyckas med att ta av. Det visar sig att roboten följde sina order ordentligt:
“[...] The robot was told to pull back the control bar firmly. Firmly. The word was repeated, strengthened, emphasized. So the robot did what it was told. It pulled it back firmly. There was only one trouble. He was easily ten times stronger than the ordinary human being for whom the control bar was designed.”
“Are you implying—”
“I’m saying the bar bent. It bent back just enough to misplace the trigger. When the heat of the robot’s hand twisted the thermocouple, it did not make contact.” He grinned. “This isn’t the failure of just one robot, Dr. Calvin. It’s symbolic of the failure of the robot idea.”
“Come now, Dr. Black,” said Susan Calvin icily, “you’re drowning logic in missionary psychology. The robot was equipped with adequate understanding as well as with brute force. Had the men who gave it its orders used quantitative terms rather than the foolish adverb ‘firmly,’ this would not have happened. Had they said, ‘apply a pull of fifty-five pounds,’ all would have been well.”