It’s the question on every massage therapist’s mind (and in a few existential nightmares): Will robots replace us? 🤖
When Aescape robot massages launched at Equinox locations in NYC in March 2024 and later made their way to the EPIC hotel in Miami, I couldn’t resist. Part Christmas gift to myself, part professional curiosity, I had to find out. Spoiler alert: the machines aren’t taking over anytime soon. Here’s how it went down.
First, the booking process—slightly confusing. I wanted a full hour ($140), but the system only let me book a half-hour session ($75). Okay, fine. Sessions are broken into specific focuses like “Upper & Mid Back Focus” or “Glute Reboot,” all done facedown. No arm work here, since your arms are stretched out in front of you to control the screen. I chose Upper & Mid Back Focus, since I have a L4-5 herniation and too much pressure in that area causes my lower back to flare up.
Upon arrival, a spa attendant handed me a bodysuit (because oil and robots are apparently a no-go) and walked me through the screen interface. Then came the body scan, which took 30 seconds but felt longer as I wondered if the machine was judging my overindulgent Christmas-cookie choices.
And then, the robot arms went to work.
The machine rubbed, pressed, and kneaded while a screen—which greeted me by name—displayed which muscles it was targeting. I could tweak the pressure, skip techniques I didn’t like, and even change the music. Cool features, right? But the execution left something to be desired.
My traps—always the tightest muscles in my body—received zero attention. Robots can press and rub but can’t squeeze (at least not yet), so my shoulder tension stayed exactly where it was. My deltoids and triceps didn’t get touched either, thanks to the required screen-controlling arm position. On the bright side, my lats and rhomboids felt good—but that’s not where I needed the work.
One perk of robot massages is guilt-free adjustments. It’s easy to skip areas or change pressure without worrying about hurting a therapist’s feelings. However, the lack of a medical history intake, combined with the inability to adapt to individual needs in real-time (“pleeeeease show my shoulders some love!”), made it clear that Aescape is no match for a human massage therapist.
Oh, and rookie move: I forgot to turn off my phone alarm. Cue the use of the emergency stop button, which worked impressively well, though the robot rescanned me when I returned. What did it think—that I swapped bodies mid-session? Or that I had paused to eat more Christmas cookies?
Final verdict: Aescape is a novel experience, but it won’t replace human massage therapists anytime soon. We bring the intuition, connection, and nuanced care that robots just can’t replicate. But hey, I’m glad I tried it—and if you’re curious, it’s worth experiencing at least once! Then come book a truly customized session at Healing Hands.
