suRANTo dwi saputra
the RISE of the CYBORG
THE RISE OF CYBORG CULTURE OR THE BOMB WAS A CYBORG
Bruce Sterling's science fiction novels portray the cyborg future of humanity. There, centuries from now, humans have divided themselves into competitive factions based on two opposing philosophies: "Mechanism" and "Shaping." The former have designed their own ontogenetic evolution through the cultivation of various technologies, including the prosthetic, mechanical, and especially cybernetic ones. The Shapers rely only on biology, biochemistry, and especially molecular biology (genetics) to "shape" themselves and their own futures, primarily by extending life, sexual potency, and certain biological talents. From back here in their past, we can perceive a certain irony (out of which Sterling makes some nice satiric hay): the two human factions are really twins, seeking a shared posthuman future, though through different means. Both evolve towards artificially constructed beings who rely merely on two different arrangements of cyborg techniques to distinguish themselves from each other. The Shapers may well pride themselves on their eugencially-selected intelligence and despise the artificial computer implants and enhancements of their Mechanist doppelgangers. Yet, as one of the Mechanist spokesmen notes, "[The Shapers] might properly be defined as industrial artifacts."[1] The Mechanists may well use software implants and direct linking to computers to enhance their faculties, and abhor the messy fecundity and (what they view as "corruption") of Shaper life, but there is no denying that their mechanical prostheses change biological facts.
In one particular epoch of Sterling's future history (which he plays out over several works of fiction), this galaxial civilization is in its decadence, verging on the apocalyptic, dangerously close to achieving a critical mass or catastrophic fluctuation that will force it to "leap to a new order of complexity" (in terms Sterling borrows from chaos theory).[2] This new order will be the Post/pp. 5-6/ human. The speeches of many characters refer to this yearned-for future; they chide each other with gibes like, "Oh, show a little Posthuman fluidity." Sterling's hero in "The Cicada Queen" foresees the shape of the posthuman in "The Lobsters," humans who have already gone over to the far side of this utopian vision. The Lobsters have "shucked their humanity like a caul," combining some Shaper bioengineering with Mechanist tech to encase themselves in completely cyberneticized shells, after altering their biology to ensure they can survive.
The Lobsters hooked into fluidic computers or sheltered themselves from solar storms and ring-system electrofluxes.
They never ate. They never drank. Sex involved a clever cyber-stimulation through cranial plugs. Every five years or so they `molted' and had their skins scraped clean of the stinking accumulation of mutated bacteria that scummed them over in the stagnant warmth [of their suits].
They knew no fear… They were self-contained and anarchical. Their greatest pleasure was to sit along a girder [on a space station] and open their amplified senses to the depths of space, watching stars past the limits of ultraviolet and infrared…
There was nothing evil about them, but they were not human. As distant and icy as comets, they were creatures of the vacuum, bored with the outmoded paradigms of blood and bone. I saw within them the first stirrings of the Fifth Prigoginic Leap… as far beyond intel-/pp. 6-7/ ligence as intelligence is from amoebic life or life from inert matter. ("Cicada Queen" 77)
I find this description of one of humanity's possible futures compelling, not so much because it is attractive (which it is in some zoned-out fashion) but simply because it seems plausible. This image of the cyborg and others, also more or less plausible, have now come to dominate our postmodern landscape, expressed in literature, film, and the arts, giving rise to rich expressions too broad and numerous to catalog here.
Today, from a vantage point after the Cold War is purportedly over, it is easier to see the outline of cyborg epistemology as it grows out of seeds engineered in World War II and blossoms in Cold War culture. - From this advantageous perspective in 1993, the contest among nations and ideologies that was World War II masked an even more important war between opposing cognitive faiths, with a definite victory for cybernetic fundamentalism. In short, to understand how and why the cyborg has achieved such predominance in the 1990s, such mythological force, we must re-read World War II and the Cold War. In this paper, I hope to show how the Mechanists, the Shapers, and the Lobsters of Sterling's imagination came to be thinkable -- if not inevitable -- versions of the posthuman because of the technologies and epistemologies that won World War II.
The "Atomic Age" vs. the "Cybernetic Age": The Bomb was a Cyborg
What would happen if you asked most contemporary commentators of the period of the late 1940s and the early 1950s: What is the single most important feature of your cultural and political landscape? or, What is the largest threat to civilization? They would undoubtedly reply to both questions, "The Bomb." It is a cliché to say that what determined the politics, much of the imaginative culture, some of the nihilistic philosophy, and certainly the Byzantine dance between the superpowers USSR and /pp. 7-8/ USA, was the threat of detonating the apocalyptic, doomsday device known first as the Atomic Bomb and later as the Nuclear Bomb. This was so true that it is also a cliché to call the Cold War Era the Atomic Age, sometimes striking an upbeat note, ringing within it the gleaming promise of a utopian future, but more often echoing something bleak and foreboding. Certainly, the popular culture of the 1950s and 1960s reflected darker images in hundreds of novels and movies about atomic bombs, monsters created by nuclear fallout, like Godzilla, and parables about post-Nuclear apocalyptic worlds like "On the Beach" and "FailSafe."
I would argue, however, that the politics of the atomic bomb and nuclear weaponry is really a small subset of a much more profound and important movement, one that is now beginning to express itself in its full-blooded manifestation. Furthermore, this movement was at its core an epistemological revolution. Why does the atomic bomb fade as an icon in the 1980s and 1990s, even while nuclear weapons stockpiles increase and proliferate, to be replaced by the computer, the AI, the robot, the cyborg as the most important icon of our generation? The answer, again, is epistemological: the Atomic Bomb was a very explosive technological device, but as such was merely a symptom or manifestation of the very same epistemology that is more fundamentally represented by the cyborg.
David Porush
Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute
from : pum.umontreal.ca
the RISE of the CYBORG
THE RISE OF CYBORG CULTURE OR THE BOMB WAS A CYBORG
Bruce Sterling's science fiction novels portray the cyborg future of humanity. There, centuries from now, humans have divided themselves into competitive factions based on two opposing philosophies: "Mechanism" and "Shaping." The former have designed their own ontogenetic evolution through the cultivation of various technologies, including the prosthetic, mechanical, and especially cybernetic ones. The Shapers rely only on biology, biochemistry, and especially molecular biology (genetics) to "shape" themselves and their own futures, primarily by extending life, sexual potency, and certain biological talents. From back here in their past, we can perceive a certain irony (out of which Sterling makes some nice satiric hay): the two human factions are really twins, seeking a shared posthuman future, though through different means. Both evolve towards artificially constructed beings who rely merely on two different arrangements of cyborg techniques to distinguish themselves from each other. The Shapers may well pride themselves on their eugencially-selected intelligence and despise the artificial computer implants and enhancements of their Mechanist doppelgangers. Yet, as one of the Mechanist spokesmen notes, "[The Shapers] might properly be defined as industrial artifacts."[1] The Mechanists may well use software implants and direct linking to computers to enhance their faculties, and abhor the messy fecundity and (what they view as "corruption") of Shaper life, but there is no denying that their mechanical prostheses change biological facts.
In one particular epoch of Sterling's future history (which he plays out over several works of fiction), this galaxial civilization is in its decadence, verging on the apocalyptic, dangerously close to achieving a critical mass or catastrophic fluctuation that will force it to "leap to a new order of complexity" (in terms Sterling borrows from chaos theory).[2] This new order will be the Post/pp. 5-6/ human. The speeches of many characters refer to this yearned-for future; they chide each other with gibes like, "Oh, show a little Posthuman fluidity." Sterling's hero in "The Cicada Queen" foresees the shape of the posthuman in "The Lobsters," humans who have already gone over to the far side of this utopian vision. The Lobsters have "shucked their humanity like a caul," combining some Shaper bioengineering with Mechanist tech to encase themselves in completely cyberneticized shells, after altering their biology to ensure they can survive.
The Lobsters hooked into fluidic computers or sheltered themselves from solar storms and ring-system electrofluxes.
They never ate. They never drank. Sex involved a clever cyber-stimulation through cranial plugs. Every five years or so they `molted' and had their skins scraped clean of the stinking accumulation of mutated bacteria that scummed them over in the stagnant warmth [of their suits].
They knew no fear… They were self-contained and anarchical. Their greatest pleasure was to sit along a girder [on a space station] and open their amplified senses to the depths of space, watching stars past the limits of ultraviolet and infrared…
There was nothing evil about them, but they were not human. As distant and icy as comets, they were creatures of the vacuum, bored with the outmoded paradigms of blood and bone. I saw within them the first stirrings of the Fifth Prigoginic Leap… as far beyond intel-/pp. 6-7/ ligence as intelligence is from amoebic life or life from inert matter. ("Cicada Queen" 77)
I find this description of one of humanity's possible futures compelling, not so much because it is attractive (which it is in some zoned-out fashion) but simply because it seems plausible. This image of the cyborg and others, also more or less plausible, have now come to dominate our postmodern landscape, expressed in literature, film, and the arts, giving rise to rich expressions too broad and numerous to catalog here.
Today, from a vantage point after the Cold War is purportedly over, it is easier to see the outline of cyborg epistemology as it grows out of seeds engineered in World War II and blossoms in Cold War culture. - From this advantageous perspective in 1993, the contest among nations and ideologies that was World War II masked an even more important war between opposing cognitive faiths, with a definite victory for cybernetic fundamentalism. In short, to understand how and why the cyborg has achieved such predominance in the 1990s, such mythological force, we must re-read World War II and the Cold War. In this paper, I hope to show how the Mechanists, the Shapers, and the Lobsters of Sterling's imagination came to be thinkable -- if not inevitable -- versions of the posthuman because of the technologies and epistemologies that won World War II.
The "Atomic Age" vs. the "Cybernetic Age": The Bomb was a Cyborg
What would happen if you asked most contemporary commentators of the period of the late 1940s and the early 1950s: What is the single most important feature of your cultural and political landscape? or, What is the largest threat to civilization? They would undoubtedly reply to both questions, "The Bomb." It is a cliché to say that what determined the politics, much of the imaginative culture, some of the nihilistic philosophy, and certainly the Byzantine dance between the superpowers USSR and /pp. 7-8/ USA, was the threat of detonating the apocalyptic, doomsday device known first as the Atomic Bomb and later as the Nuclear Bomb. This was so true that it is also a cliché to call the Cold War Era the Atomic Age, sometimes striking an upbeat note, ringing within it the gleaming promise of a utopian future, but more often echoing something bleak and foreboding. Certainly, the popular culture of the 1950s and 1960s reflected darker images in hundreds of novels and movies about atomic bombs, monsters created by nuclear fallout, like Godzilla, and parables about post-Nuclear apocalyptic worlds like "On the Beach" and "FailSafe."
I would argue, however, that the politics of the atomic bomb and nuclear weaponry is really a small subset of a much more profound and important movement, one that is now beginning to express itself in its full-blooded manifestation. Furthermore, this movement was at its core an epistemological revolution. Why does the atomic bomb fade as an icon in the 1980s and 1990s, even while nuclear weapons stockpiles increase and proliferate, to be replaced by the computer, the AI, the robot, the cyborg as the most important icon of our generation? The answer, again, is epistemological: the Atomic Bomb was a very explosive technological device, but as such was merely a symptom or manifestation of the very same epistemology that is more fundamentally represented by the cyborg.
David Porush
Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute
from : pum.umontreal.ca