In the world of industrial robotics, I’ve noticed something strange-something almost emotional.
Engineers and programmers, people who work with logic and precision, will often say things like:
“I hate ABB.”
“I only work with Fanuc.”
“Cartesian robots aren’t even real robots.”
And every time I hear that, I pause.
Not because I disagree—though I often do.
But because I simply can’t relate to that way of thinking.
I love robots.
Not a brand. Not a color. Not a specific teach pendant layout.
Robots. All of them.
Every brand is a system with a story. A design philosophy. A different way of thinking.
And the ones I haven’t met yet? Those are the most exciting of all.
When I encounter a new robot brand, my reaction isn’t resistance.
It’s curiosity. I want to understand its logic, its language, its personality.
I don’t think in teams or tribes.
Of course, I have favorites to work with.
Some brands are smoother to set up, some are easier to debug, some are a dream for fine-tuning motion.
But I’ve never looked down on another robot because it was different.
Because behind every system is an engineering mind.
And my job isn’t to judge it.
It’s to understand it.
When someone says “I hate this brand,” what I often hear is:
- “I don’t understand it.”
- “It made me feel stupid once.”
- “I’m afraid to learn it.”
- “It’s not what I’m used to.”
That’s human. I get it.
But that’s not how I want to think.
Because a real robotician doesn’t choose sides.
A real robotician adapts.
Learns. Explores.
And finds beauty in every machine—no matter its logo.
I’ve made robots move like they were dancing.
ABB, KUKA, Fanuc, Sepro, Wittmann, even Cartesian systems with minimal interfaces.
Each one has its own soul, its own rhythm.
Some need to be tamed. Others need to be trusted.
But all of them respond—when you truly listen.
And that’s the joy of robotics for me.
Not brand loyalty.
But universal fluency in the language of motion.