At the World Humanoid Robot Games in Beijing, a humanoid robot named Tiangong Ultra ran the 100-metre sprint in a staggering 8.64 seconds, shattering Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt’s legendary human world record of 9.58 seconds.

The internet laughed at the robots’ awkward, lurching finishes and spectacular falls – but the laughter masked a chilling reality.

Just two days after the games concluded the official newspaper of China’s People’s Liberation Army (PLA) called for researchers to accelerate moving these cutting-edge machines from the laboratory to military training grounds. They referred to them not as experiments, but as “combatants”.

As a robotics researcher myself, working daily with robot simulation, reinforcement learning, and the foundational software and simulation tools that power them (such as ROS 2 and Gazebo), I watch these developments with a mix of awe and deep concern.

The public often views humanoid robots as clunky sci-fi novelties. The reality is far different: the hardware is already highly capable, and the software is advancing at an unprecedented pace.

But the real story is not just that a robot can beat a human on a running track. It’s what that performance reveals: China’s ability to integrate motors, reducers (gears used in precise joint movement), sensors, control software, testing infrastructure and manufacturing capacity into one unified industrial system.

A sprinting humanoid is not just a stunt. At high speeds, every foot strike creates violent ground reaction forces. Balance corrections must happen in milliseconds, as a single small error can send the machine crashing into the barrier.

For decades, the physical mechanics of humanoid robots, including the actuators (a component, such as a motor, that converts energy into physical movement), sensors, and the sheer physics of bipedal balance, were the main hurdles. Today, those mechanical problems are largely solved.

Carbon fibre and aluminium bodies keep mass and inertia (how a robot’s mass resists change) low. Advancements in actuator technology deliver torque capacities of up to 400Nm (Newton-metres – a unit of torque, or twisting force) in humanoid joints, providing the ultimate combination of power and agility.

What you saw on the track in Beijing was not just a triumph of motors, but a triumph of coding. A real breakthrough is happening in software.

Robots are trained in virtual simulation environments, running millions of trial-and-error scenarios through reinforcement learning before the robot ever takes a physical step. Reinforcement learning is an area of artificial intelligence (AI) where robots make decisions based on the results of their actions.

This allows them to learn how to recover from trips, adjust to uneven ground, and process chaotic environments in real time. Humanoid robots are rapidly bridging the gap between controlled laboratory conditions and the unpredictable real world.

Tracks vs legs

But all this leads to an inevitable question: why would a military want a complex, expensive humanoid when they could use vastly cheaper, rugged, tracked or wheeled drones? In open-field combat, tracked vehicles are absolutely superior. They heave bigger payloads, carry thick ballistic armour, and are far more energy efficient.

However, the nature of conflict is changing – and urban environments play an increasing role in military thinking. Cities are built exclusively for humans. A tracked robot cannot easily climb a vertical fire escape ladder, turn a standard door handle, squeeze through a narrow, debris filled stairwell, or sit in the driver’s seat of a captured supply truck.

A humanoid robot acts as a “drop-in replacement” for a human soldier. If a building is designed for a human to navigate, a humanoid robot can navigate it without requiring custom redesigns or specialised ramps.

This brings us to a profound ethical crossroads. Many of us in the robotics field do not endorse offensive warfare. But these machines have an undeniable utility in defensive scenarios and those concerned with neutralising threats to military personnel and civilians.

Sending a humanoid into a building to rescue hostages, neutralising an active threat such as hostage-takers, or clearing a booby trapped room saves human lives.

Dual-use tech

In fact, the modern surge in humanoid robotics was largely kickstarted by the US government’s Darpa Robotics Challenge, which funded bipedal robots specifically to respond to disasters such as the Fukushima nuclear meltdown where human responders could not survive.

The dilemma is that the technology is agnostic to intent. The baseline capabilities required to navigate a ruined building and extract a casualty are the same capabilities needed to enter a building and kill enemy soldiers. If the technology is ready for defence, it is also ready for offensive use.

Perhaps the most alarming aspect of this rapid advancement is how accessible it is. Unlike nuclear technology or stealth aircraft, modern robotics thrives on open-source frameworks. For example, a military specific software ecosystem (a network of apps and other services that work together) known as ROS-M, along with simulation tools and training datasets, are largely public and shared across global academic communities.

With enough skill, a dedicated adversary can replicate advanced robotic behaviour with relative ease. We can no longer afford to treat humanoid robotics purely as an academic pursuit or a commercial novelty. We need an urgent international conversation about how to control these advances.

Just as we regulate the export of certain microchips and aerospace components, we must begin protecting the software architecture and training pipelines that give these machines their minds. The hardware is walking out of the lab – it is time our policies caught up.

Kartikeya Walia does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

It turns out that one of the smallest dog breeds, the chihuahua, is part wild coyote, according to recently published genetic research. The chihuahua breed originated in Mexico but is now a popular canine companion worldwide.

Coyote genes may have been introduced into ancestors of the chihuahua accidentally. It may also be a result of deliberate attempts to cross the two animals – perhaps many generations ago.

Coyotes are a wild canine species, slightly smaller than the grey wolf and native to North America. The presence of coyote genes in the much smaller chihuahua – among the most popular dogs in the UK and the US – highlights the incredible diversity of domestic dogs and their varied histories.

Coyotes are untamed and territorial, while anyone who has lived with a chihuahua knows that their small bodies house big canine personalities.

Chihuahuas are the archetypal “small but mighty” dogs: bold, independent, agile, but also capable of obedience. Small, sedentary lapdogs they are not. These findings might partly explain why.

The recent study explored ancient genetic signatures in dog and human genomes to validate the effectiveness of new genetic techniques. The genome is the full complement of DNA in living cells.

The researchers demonstrated their methods on dog breeds with links to the Americas, such as the chihuahua and another Mexican breed, the xoloitzcuintli (often shortened to xolo). The xolo is typically characterised by a lack of hair and an often aloof personality.

Many dogs in the Americas today are descended from European breeds, an outcome of colonisation from the 15th century onwards. However, previous research showed that the chihuahua and xolo preserve a small amount of ancestry – 4% in the chihuahua and 3% in the xolo – from pre-contact dogs, those that lived in the Americas before Europeans arrived.

Genetic analysis of the xolo in the recent study suggests that European and pre-Columbian dogs were mixing around 1700. This aligns with evidence suggesting that Europeans and Indigenous populations mixed around the same time in early Mexico.

Reconstructing origins

Researchers previously found evidence of coyote ancestry in DNA from the remains of ancient domestic dogs from the Americas. It’s a reminder that dogs are not that far removed from other canid species, and can breed with them successfully.

Wild coyotes and wolves have been found to hybridise naturally, especially in geographical areas where “wolf-like” behavioural traits are beneficial. There was even a recent report of a dog-fox hybrid being identified in Brazil.

It remains unclear when exactly the coyote genes entered the chihuahua lineage. The precise histories of different dog breeds are hard to reconstruct because detailed documentary evidence is often lacking.

So how did the chihuahua end up being so small, despite those coyote genes? This question should be seen through the lens of selective breeding, where humans choose different dogs to breed from based on characteristics they prefer.

Genetic analysis reveals that almost all small dog breeds share a mutation in the insulin like growth factor 1 (IGF1) gene, which affects cell growth and thus body size. Selection for small dogs with this mutation appears to have occurred very early in dog domestication.

There is some evidence for the presence of diminutive dogs among pre-contact Mesoamerican cultures, but how these relate to chihuahuas is unknown.

Extreme variation

Some dogs such as the Czechoslovakian wolfdog look visibly more like their wild and ancestral canid counterparts, such as the grey wolf. They have pricked ears, muscular, athletic bodies and coats that provide camouflage and protection from environmental extremes.

Other dogs show extreme variation: exaggerations such as long backs or short legs. In some cases, these physical characteristics come with significant consequences for health and wellbeing.

Overall body size is particularly variable in dogs, with a 40-fold difference across different breeds and types. Imagine the diminutive chihuahua standing next to an imposing Great Dane, for example.

There are also important differences in behaviour. If you want to live harmoniously with a dog, or train or work a dog in a specific activity, this is important to acknowledge. Indeed, meeting an individual dog’s physical, psychological and emotional needs is essential for both dog and human wellbeing, as well as training success.

As with appearance, natural and human-driven selection have combined to influence these traits. This has produced generations of dogs with specific behavioural characteristics.

The dog was one of the earliest animals to be domesticated by humans – the earliest examples are more than 15,000 years old. They are also one of the most successful domesticated species.

Dogs are found on every continent except for Antarctica, and the global dog population is thought to number between 700 million and 1 billion. They exist either embedded within human society, or living on the fringes of it.

Throughout history, natural selection on dogs with characteristics that confer survival advantages will have occurred. At the same time, humans will have selected individual dogs based for desired attributes, leading to the breed development and classifications that we see across the world.

As well as furthering our capacity to explore genetic ancestry of species, the latest study adds detail to our understanding of how and when the domestic dog evolved, and became so diverse.

It might also mean we think less about the “wolf in our living rooms”, and more about the “coyote in our chihuahuas”.

In addition to her academic affiliation at Nottingham Trent University (NTU) and support from the Institute for Knowledge Exchange Practice (IKEP) at NTU, Jacqueline Boyd is affiliated with The Royal Kennel Club (UK) through membership, as advisor to the Health Advisory Group and member of the Activities Committee. Jacqueline is a full member of the Association of Pet Dog Trainers (APDT #01583). She also writes, consults and coaches on canine matters on an independent basis.