I came up with the idea during class but it kind of stuck with me: this notion that, what we really see in the Culture with its pseudo-immortality is not a definitive continuation of life. The idea of posterity, however, has been eradicated--you will live on, in some form, and so the creation of art, the productivity, is virtually gone. These people no loner have to work toward a future because they know that they will be in that future, and post-scarcity means that no one has to support themselves. But these future avatars--will they be us?
The first thing I thought of was Dune. In all six books, the only consistent character is Duncan Idaho, but, having been killed in the first book, he has returned as a ghola, a clone of a dead man. By the end of the second book, he has recovered, somehow, the genetic memory of the first Duncan Idaho. In the fourth, we have yet another Duncan, revived by the same process, in the fifth--you guessed it, another Duncan, but this one with the memories of all the other Duncan gholas (gholae? I don't know). So while Duncan Idaho of Heretics of Dune is the culmination of centuries of different Duncans, he is not the original, and that means that the Duncan who first died on Arrakis ended when he died. Ghola Duncan is him, but he is not ghola Duncan.
A similar situation comes up, in a different way, on the show Caprica. My understanding of BSG et al. is rather diffuse, given that I'm working my way through the second season, but one of the things they talk about in Caprica is the creation of avatars. Prior to her death, Zoe Graystone creates an avatar of herself composed entirely of her memories, her data, her personality. When Zoe dies in a tragic accident, this avatar is all that remains of her--but is it a person? It thinks, it apparently feels--which is proven in some pretty upsetting ways, thanks to Daniel Graystone's colossal ruthlessness--but it is not, in effect, the same Zoe who stepped on a train and died. And the Zoe avatar becomes the first Cylon--who definitely believe that they have souls. The monotheist cult to which Zoe belonged believes that the virtual Zoe is proof that life goes on--but is it true?
Yesterday we sat around and talked about what would be best in an alien-human interaction. I didn't contribute, mainly because I've been thinking it through all semester and I'm still not sure I've come up with an answer. It would be nice if we had someone like Ender circa Speaker for the Dead, a man so empathic that he is capable of understanding something totally alien. But remember--the only reason that Ender works so hard toward some kind of reconciliation with the piggies is because he knows the terrible consequences of xenocide. A lot of people suggested Lem's conclusion, which was pretty ambiguous. Frankly, I'd want the Doctor.
I swear, it's not because of David Tennant. But in The Christmas Invasion, the Doctor essentially uses an infinite understanding of other cultures to peacefully repel an alien invasion by the Sycorax--and when the Prime Minister then chooses the Schmittean option, and destroys the alien spaceship, the Doctor becomes livid, and threatens to take down her entire government. But we won't ever get anyone like the Doctor, because he's an alien enamored with Earth. So who do we send?
Do we send Tomas, the guy who basically agreed to disagree with the Martian? Emilio, the linguist? Do we send a brilliant but ruthless empath like Ender? Maybe Marjorie? I frankly don't know. At all. I agree with Stephen Hawking: whatever happens, it won't be pretty, so we should probably hope it doesn't happen. Ideally, though, we'd try to make some sort of understanding rather than kill each other, but as Graff says, species are wired to survive. It creates an odd occasion of mutually assured destruction.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Right to life? If you're a good guy
I recently viewed a threat on my facebook between two friends. One had made a joke about killing Hitler in a comical way mainly because he was evil and deserved it. The other friend, who is against capital punishment in all forms, became offended and stated that no one deserves to be killed based on their moral alignment. In truth, I believe many of us don’t mind seeing Indiana Jones push a Nazi off a tank or James Bond shoot an arms dealer. It is interesting that the reason we hate such people is because they violate the right to life of another, yet we feel this right should be stripped from them. This phenomenon seems t have occurred in Children of God. Although the Runa try to spare some of their oppressors, they still drive them to near extinction, violating the Schmittian policy of only driving an enemy back within their borders. This paradox seems to occur a lot in speculative fiction. Has anyone thought about an orc’s right to life? I believe Buffy can also be used as an example of this. Buffy’s actions are not viewed as murder when she slays countless demons and there is only one episode in which a demon’s right to life was brought up. Ironically this was only done because the demon was a humanoid Native American ghost. This is not to critique Buffy’s heroism or altruism, but don’t vampires have feelings too? In Angel this sort of thinking led to Angel killing a heroic and righteous warrior from a stereotypically evil race. It would be unfair to note that when such creatures are killed it is mainly to save innocent lives and combat an existential threat, thus making right to life a secondary concern. Nevertheless, it is food for thought. Perhaps orcs view us as evil.
Live long and prosper
I would like to discuss the concept of immortality as it is portrayed in “Look to Windward.” Personally, I do not believe the system described in the book ensures immortality and I agree with Phil. Memories and personality is not consciousness. Each individual mind has its’ own consciousness, which, at the moment of death, ceases to exist. Yes, an exact copy of the consciousness can be imprinted, but it is not the same consciousness and never could be. Instead, think of the system like the pony express. One horse rides to one checkpoint carrying the same rider, who takes a different horse at the checkpoint and continues on. The rider (aka the memories and personality) are the same, but the horse (aka the consciousness) is left behind. Thus, if I were a citizen of Culture I would be a bit more hesitant about going lava rafting. Concerning an artificial heaven, how can something synthetic be comparable to the supernatural or an article of faith? A synthetic heaven is a heresy and a substitute. For this reason, how can one’s faith be affirmed by it?
As a final note I would like to thank everyone for a wonderful semester and you all have my best wishes. As I stated in class, I’d like to end on a good note. Although many of the stories we read are discouraging concerning first contact, I’d like to warn against a self fulfilled prophecy. If humans go into a first contact scenario with the belief that we will make erroneous mistakes and are doomed to disaster we will ultimately fail. Instead I say chins up. Yes, mistakes will be made and conflicts will ensue, but humanity is not defined solely by a capacity for evil, but by a capacity for good as well. This world is filled with Emilios and Picards. Let us not limit ourselves with generalization about human weakness, but strive to break our highest expectations.
As a final note I would like to thank everyone for a wonderful semester and you all have my best wishes. As I stated in class, I’d like to end on a good note. Although many of the stories we read are discouraging concerning first contact, I’d like to warn against a self fulfilled prophecy. If humans go into a first contact scenario with the belief that we will make erroneous mistakes and are doomed to disaster we will ultimately fail. Instead I say chins up. Yes, mistakes will be made and conflicts will ensue, but humanity is not defined solely by a capacity for evil, but by a capacity for good as well. This world is filled with Emilios and Picards. Let us not limit ourselves with generalization about human weakness, but strive to break our highest expectations.
Substantive on Look to Windward
I found Andrew’s substantive on Look to Windward to be though provoking and raised two important points for me. One was that the novel is unique in providing us with a post-scarcity society and the second was that the Culture is not conflict immune. To me, these statements raise questions on the nature of conflict. One may say that because the Culture is a post-conflict society, their impetus for war is not based on economic causes. My answer to this is twofold. For one, the Culture might be driven into conflict by a society plagued by scarcity and requires resources. My second statement is that although scarcity has been eradicated by the Culture, base desires have not. Humans have a tendency to want what they cannot have, and although most demands have been meet, this does not ensure satisfaction. There is a reason why our society is plagued by phenomena such as “conspicuous consumption” and “affluenza,” and that is that many humans simply want more. Thus I doubt there is such a thing as a post-scarcity society. Yes, perhaps a general level of wellbeing can conceivably be obtained, but as humanity expands it will come into contact to new kinds of goods. Wars have been fought over oil and opium, why not Romulan ale and dilithium crystals? My other feelings on conflict are that even if an enemy is not an existential threat, they may be a threat to one’s ideology or position. If the Culture were conquered by a civilization that viewed synthetics as unprivileged citizens, it would threaten not only the power of the Minds, but the ideological basis of equality in the Culture’s culture.
One thing that intrigued me about the culture was there tolerance for various forms of alien life. Citizens of the Culture seemed blasé and nonchalant about non-human species within their society. Where there was intolerance and conflict was with groups that did not vibe with the egalitarian beliefs of the culture. This I found very interesting… that an advanced society discriminated not on appearance, but on values and culture. Although it was refreshing to see so many sentient groups come together, it was disheartening to think that discrimination does not become extinct but evolves. In America, for example, discrimination seems to jump from group to group: women African Americans homosexuals, illegal immigrants. This is not to deny the existence of racism or sexism, but one cannot deny that such issues have moved out of the limelight in the face of other forms of intolerance. Perhaps one day we can live in a world where the only intolerance is of those who willingly hate and negatively discriminate against others.
One thing that intrigued me about the culture was there tolerance for various forms of alien life. Citizens of the Culture seemed blasé and nonchalant about non-human species within their society. Where there was intolerance and conflict was with groups that did not vibe with the egalitarian beliefs of the culture. This I found very interesting… that an advanced society discriminated not on appearance, but on values and culture. Although it was refreshing to see so many sentient groups come together, it was disheartening to think that discrimination does not become extinct but evolves. In America, for example, discrimination seems to jump from group to group: women African Americans homosexuals, illegal immigrants. This is not to deny the existence of racism or sexism, but one cannot deny that such issues have moved out of the limelight in the face of other forms of intolerance. Perhaps one day we can live in a world where the only intolerance is of those who willingly hate and negatively discriminate against others.
Knowledge: Facilitator of Peace or Tool for War
In class we talked about whether or not knowledge of the other necessarily leads to empathy and peace. On this subject Professor Jackson stated that it is this reasoning that drives the Fulbright program and student exchanges, which he is right in saying. Fulbright himself is quoted with saying “The Fulbright Commission aims to bring a little more knowledge, a little more reason, and a little more compassion into world affairs and thereby increase the chance that nations will learn at last to live in peace and friendship.” Personally I believe that knowledge can help expedite peaceful relationships, but does not guarantee them. Sun Tzu is quoted with saying “know your enemy and know yourself, find naught in fear for 100 battles. Know yourself but not your enemy, find level of loss and victory. Know thy enemy but not yourself, wallow in defeat every time.” Really it is up to a persons’ mentality and motives to determine what knowledge will do. In the case of Jake Sully, getting to understand and empathize with the Na’Vi led to him becoming part of their tribe and fight against his own species. This seems to be the case of some frontiers people in the US who learned to live with the Native Americans rather than drive them back after being placed in a “Dances with Wolves” like scenario. On the other hand, some frontiers people also used knowledge of the Native Americans to destroy their society with alcohol and exploit them during transactions. Cortez seems to have understood the Aztecs and used this knowledge to try dominating their society rather than view them as human beings. Thus, it would seem that while knowledge can help spur some to empathy, it can be utilized for nefarious reasons.
Can knowledge bring about hate? When we learn about Muslim woman being oppressed in the Middle East are we swayed more by our disgust at the sexism prevalent in their society, or by thoughts of cultural relativism? Even though we can learn why the Nazis did what they did, does this mitigate their crimes when we learn the full extent of the horror they perpetrated against their fellow human beings? As stated before, I believe what effect knowledge has a person depends both on the individual and the individual’s motives. Some wish only to know their enemy in order to succeed. Some people are wholly swayed by argument of cultural relativism. Some people simply find another appealing and wish to empathize. For better or worse, knowledge has an essential and dynamic effect on relations between groups.
Can knowledge bring about hate? When we learn about Muslim woman being oppressed in the Middle East are we swayed more by our disgust at the sexism prevalent in their society, or by thoughts of cultural relativism? Even though we can learn why the Nazis did what they did, does this mitigate their crimes when we learn the full extent of the horror they perpetrated against their fellow human beings? As stated before, I believe what effect knowledge has a person depends both on the individual and the individual’s motives. Some wish only to know their enemy in order to succeed. Some people are wholly swayed by argument of cultural relativism. Some people simply find another appealing and wish to empathize. For better or worse, knowledge has an essential and dynamic effect on relations between groups.
Reflection on Eifelheim
I’d like to touch upon two questions raised in class. The first is about the interaction between religion and science and the concept of science as a doctrine. Mginsberg said a great deal about this in their two blog posts on Eifelheim and I found two statements very interesting. One was that we humans generally view science as knowledge about something tangible while religion is faith in the unseen. Thus, when left with unseen and incomprehensible forces such as sub-atomic particles, do our scientific beliefs come to resemble more of a religious faith? The second statement was that they found that when both creationism and the big bang theory are explained concurrently, they are not mutually exclusive. I personally agree with the idea that religion and science, while two separate subjects and lenses, are not at war with one another. How would it be heretical to say that God created neutrons and the natural forces that govern this world? Evolution does not negate the existence of God any more than the cancellation of Firefly mean that it wasn’t a work of genius. An all powerful being can create natural mechanisms, or natural mechanisms are simply there and the being is just along for the ride and works around them. Concerning the second question, science can indeed take on aspects of religion. Like religion, science can be used as a lens through which to view events. Rather than attributing a hurricane to Poseidon, one with a more scientific lens would attribute it to George Bush. I say George Bush not because he’s a deity, but because he contributes to global warming by the hot air that comes out of him and his unsustainable energy policies. That or such a person would simply blame meteorological conditions. Nevertheless, whether an outlook is based in faith in the supernatural or in reason, both still remain to be lenses and part of a person’s mentality. Concerning the unknown and the unseen, science can be used to comprehend phenomenon just as religion is. Instead of a miraculous recovery being attributed to a faith healing, it could instead be attributed to the placebo effect. Again this is not to say either is mutually exclusive. I personally believe that the laws of physics and nature are what make the world the way it is. However, if a car that’s spinning out of control nearly misses me I’ll attribute that near miss not to centrifugal force or friction, but providence.
Vikings: Hope for Change
Although we often view Cortez and Columbus as some of the best indicators of first contact, I think by doing so we do injustice to the Norse explorers of North America. The first contact between the Norse and the Skraelings consisted not of warfare or exploitation, but mutual trade and gift giving. The Norse also generally seemed to settle outside of Skraeling territory and did not encroach on their lands. It is believed by some professionals that this symbiotic relationship lasted for almost 400 years. Such a figure is without a doubt encouraging. Conflicts between the two groups, however, did occur. According to the Greenland Saga a bull from one of the Norse Warriors charged the Skraelings, leading to them to return aggressively in force. Although this goes to show that misunderstandings are indeed great detriments to first contact, it is refreshing to see that conflict did not result from a “friend-enemy’ dynamic or attempts to exploit. Perhaps a beneficial trading relationship and economic interdependence can help ensure peace between two groups.
I enjoyed Morgan’s reflective post on Conquest of America and how it tied in the Mass Effect series. The Reapers, like the conquistadors, almost wiped out an entirely sentient species for the purpose of conquest and slavery. They did this because they viewed their foes, the Protheans, as an entirely different race that was in no way on par with their own synthetic race. The conquistadors viewed the Aztecs in a similar fashion, as an inferior and inherently different species that was expendable. Will humans make such erroneous judgments in the future? Even today in America with education, reasoning and great stores of knowledge we encounter problems of religious fanaticism and racism. In the last twenty years the world has seen genocides in the Balkans, Rwanda, and Darfur. If faced with an extra -terrestrial group that was technologically inferior or needful such as in District 9, would we repeat the same actions as Cortez? Will we view extra-terrestrials as equal sentient beings or “prawns?”
I enjoyed Morgan’s reflective post on Conquest of America and how it tied in the Mass Effect series. The Reapers, like the conquistadors, almost wiped out an entirely sentient species for the purpose of conquest and slavery. They did this because they viewed their foes, the Protheans, as an entirely different race that was in no way on par with their own synthetic race. The conquistadors viewed the Aztecs in a similar fashion, as an inferior and inherently different species that was expendable. Will humans make such erroneous judgments in the future? Even today in America with education, reasoning and great stores of knowledge we encounter problems of religious fanaticism and racism. In the last twenty years the world has seen genocides in the Balkans, Rwanda, and Darfur. If faced with an extra -terrestrial group that was technologically inferior or needful such as in District 9, would we repeat the same actions as Cortez? Will we view extra-terrestrials as equal sentient beings or “prawns?”
Substantive on Eifelheim
It appears that Eifelheim provides us with a situation where hope does exist for human-alein interactions. In many ways this novel reminded me of the alien captain’s reasoning in the Star Trek episode “Darmok,” that desperate situations can help bring two groups together. In the episode, which is the one we watched in class, Captain Picard and his alien counterpart must learn to work together against a dangerous predator despite being unable to communicate with one another. The severity of the situation allows the two captains to bond and set a peaceful precedent from which both of their societies can work together from. In this scenario both the humans and the Krenken are faced with dire and existential threats, compelling them to work together. Although both sides suffer defeats, the two groups are able to connect and make headway in understanding one another, as well as establishing peaceful relations. Desperate situations do not necessarily produce cooperation though. For example, during WWII Japan bombed Pearl Harbor after the US cut off its’ vital oil supply rather than attempt to work with the US. In the min-series V, the aliens which are running low on resources attempt to conquer Earth in order to harvest humans. These aliens take this sinister action without considering working with the humans to secure resources such as bovine or poultry stocks. There are real world examples of desperation leading to groups coming together though. The US and the SU, for example, both collaborated against the threat of fascism during WWII.
One flaw I found with the novel was the aliens’ belief in the coming of Christ. Of course its’ understandable how miscommunication occurred at first, but I am surprised that a post-Einsteinian society wouldn’t recognize that what the villagers were describing were religious or superstitious tales. Especially since the humans in the novel had such a primitive technological level. However, perhaps because they have a mentality based on logic and reasoning, and may have had said mentality for centuries, that concepts such as religion and a lens based on supernatural reasoning might be alien to them. However, it is easy to see how the basic tenants of Christianity might appeal to a species that has overcome the Fermi’s paradox.
One flaw I found with the novel was the aliens’ belief in the coming of Christ. Of course its’ understandable how miscommunication occurred at first, but I am surprised that a post-Einsteinian society wouldn’t recognize that what the villagers were describing were religious or superstitious tales. Especially since the humans in the novel had such a primitive technological level. However, perhaps because they have a mentality based on logic and reasoning, and may have had said mentality for centuries, that concepts such as religion and a lens based on supernatural reasoning might be alien to them. However, it is easy to see how the basic tenants of Christianity might appeal to a species that has overcome the Fermi’s paradox.
Allegories and Intervention
I found Andrew’s substantive on Children of God to be thought provoking and agree with him on multiple issues. For one, the God in the Sparrowverse does to appear to be a vengeful Old Testament figure. Emilio undoubtedly resembles a Job-like figure that is tested by God at every turn and has everything that he values, from his dignity to his family ripped from him. Although Emilio turns his back on God in some aspects, he never truly does in the sense of upholding his Christian values. Throughout both novel Emilio still continues to be a morally upright individual. The emancipation of the Runa appears to resemble the Exodus of the Jews from Egypt. The Jana'ata resemble the Egyptians in multiple regards. For one, the way they kill the Runa children is reminiscent of the slaughter of Jewish babies conducted by the Pharaohs, such as the one that led to Moses being put in the river. The Runa actually discuss drowning their babies in a river, perhaps just like jewish children were drowned in the Nile? The geniocracy, nobles, river trading, city l descriptions and harems also remind me of an ancient civilization. Supaari also seems to be a Moses like figure. Just as the Egyptian prince risks all to save an innocent person from death and lead enslaved people to freedom, Supaari endangers himself by saving his baby and then leading the Runa against the Jana'ata. Besides this, just like Moses Supaari is never allowed to eneter the “promised land.” The author, Ms. Russell, is a convert to Judaism, which plays an important role in her life. For this reason it would not be illogical to find Biblical symbolism in the novel.
There also appears to be a great deal of debate over whether or not Sophia’s rebellion is justified. In truth, it is difficult to weigh the emancipation of over ninety percent of a planet’s population to the near genocide of a species. Personally, I believe if the Runa have had ill will towards the Jana'ata before human contact than the rebellion is not necessarily as illegitimate as it appears to be. The Runa must have had feeling of ill will or else they would not have mustered forces so quickly or be so enthusiastic to challenge the status quo. It was also mentioned in the novel that the Runa did give Jana'ata nobles fair warning before attacking. However, Sophia should have tried to emphasize to her Runa army that mercy and the sparring of civilians was a priority. However, I am sure no words she could have uttered would have quelled thousands of years of anger at being repressed. One must also realize that the Runa were also the victims of eugenics and selective breeding, as well as undermined intellectually by limited diets. Besides this, as sentient being don’t the Runa have the right to self determination and civil rights? Sophia proposed an alternative to enslavement and maltreatment and the Runa took it as they found it more appealing to a culture of subjugation. Besides this, Sophia came from a life of prostitution and from a people who have been persecuted for millennia, how could we expect her not to take a stand?
There also appears to be a great deal of debate over whether or not Sophia’s rebellion is justified. In truth, it is difficult to weigh the emancipation of over ninety percent of a planet’s population to the near genocide of a species. Personally, I believe if the Runa have had ill will towards the Jana'ata before human contact than the rebellion is not necessarily as illegitimate as it appears to be. The Runa must have had feeling of ill will or else they would not have mustered forces so quickly or be so enthusiastic to challenge the status quo. It was also mentioned in the novel that the Runa did give Jana'ata nobles fair warning before attacking. However, Sophia should have tried to emphasize to her Runa army that mercy and the sparring of civilians was a priority. However, I am sure no words she could have uttered would have quelled thousands of years of anger at being repressed. One must also realize that the Runa were also the victims of eugenics and selective breeding, as well as undermined intellectually by limited diets. Besides this, as sentient being don’t the Runa have the right to self determination and civil rights? Sophia proposed an alternative to enslavement and maltreatment and the Runa took it as they found it more appealing to a culture of subjugation. Besides this, Sophia came from a life of prostitution and from a people who have been persecuted for millennia, how could we expect her not to take a stand?
A Mandate for First Contact?
Although the team’s intention in the Sparrow was one of goodwill, I was frankly offended that the Jesuit Society and the team would act unilaterally. Humanity only has one chance to make first contact with a species. From thence on future relationships are greatly affected by this one incident. I believe it was wrong for this one team, which was questionably qualified, to go forth without the consent of the international community at large. If a group is meant to represent humanity as a whole, it should undoubtedly be composed in a way that at least has some sort of limited international consensus and legitimacy. The team seems to know this was the case as it wouldn’t have snuck away without alerting anyone outside of the Jesuit order and Catholic power elite. What right did the group have to take this action, no matter how altruistic its’ intentions?
This creates the question of who has the right to decide who makes first contact with extra-terrestrials. If it were desired to represent humanity at large perhaps international and regional forums such as the UN and the EU could be used. There’s also the option of creating an ad hoc organization open to all nations just for the express purpose of deciding how first contact should be conducted. Whatever organization is used, each nation could bring forth distinguished academics and figures to provide greater insight and advice. The UN would probably be the best institution to utilize as it is widely respected and generally viewed to be a forum on international issues. A UN envoy would also be more likely to provide a more diverse representation of human ideals and mentalities than a purely Catholic centric one. Although the UN envoy in the Sparrow was met with disaster, I believe this can be attributed to the results of the Jesuit team’s actions rather than their own follies.
I would also like to say that I agree with Morgan’s point about the Jana'ata’s society . Cruelty and inhumanity are subjective concepts that are defined differently for each person and society. While you and I might view the Jana'ata with distaste, their society might appear natural to the Vikings who based their livelihood on slaving and raids, or the Mongols whose empire was based on extracting tribute from other peoples. One is allowed to feel outrage at certain acts, but one should also try to step back and examine a phenomenon in context. For this reason, I am hesitant to praise Sofia’s choice to lead the Runa in a riot against the Jana'ata. In issues of culture and mentality, reasoning with and offering alternatives to other groups so that they can make their own decisions is also an option to imposing one’s own morality upon them. Objectively speaking though, Sophie’s choice to intervene is also a valid and legitimate viewpoint. Frankly, if I were in her position I probably would have intervened as well after becoming overwhelmed by emotion. My staunch belief in liberty and the right to life probably would have also overridden any of my attempts to be objective.
This creates the question of who has the right to decide who makes first contact with extra-terrestrials. If it were desired to represent humanity at large perhaps international and regional forums such as the UN and the EU could be used. There’s also the option of creating an ad hoc organization open to all nations just for the express purpose of deciding how first contact should be conducted. Whatever organization is used, each nation could bring forth distinguished academics and figures to provide greater insight and advice. The UN would probably be the best institution to utilize as it is widely respected and generally viewed to be a forum on international issues. A UN envoy would also be more likely to provide a more diverse representation of human ideals and mentalities than a purely Catholic centric one. Although the UN envoy in the Sparrow was met with disaster, I believe this can be attributed to the results of the Jesuit team’s actions rather than their own follies.
I would also like to say that I agree with Morgan’s point about the Jana'ata’s society . Cruelty and inhumanity are subjective concepts that are defined differently for each person and society. While you and I might view the Jana'ata with distaste, their society might appear natural to the Vikings who based their livelihood on slaving and raids, or the Mongols whose empire was based on extracting tribute from other peoples. One is allowed to feel outrage at certain acts, but one should also try to step back and examine a phenomenon in context. For this reason, I am hesitant to praise Sofia’s choice to lead the Runa in a riot against the Jana'ata. In issues of culture and mentality, reasoning with and offering alternatives to other groups so that they can make their own decisions is also an option to imposing one’s own morality upon them. Objectively speaking though, Sophie’s choice to intervene is also a valid and legitimate viewpoint. Frankly, if I were in her position I probably would have intervened as well after becoming overwhelmed by emotion. My staunch belief in liberty and the right to life probably would have also overridden any of my attempts to be objective.
The Cream of the Crop?
In class this week the question was raised as to what the expedition did wrong and if its’ members were poorly chosen. Personally, I believe that changes indeed could have been made to the composition of the team. For one, chemists and pathologists should have been brought along in the journey. On Earth, the interactions between people from different continents have lead to the deaths of millions of beings from the same species. What are we to expect when beings from different planets interact? I think it was reckless to attempt first contact without taking severe precautions to prevent contamination of another world with fatal diseases. Although the team took precautions, they were not very extensive. One microbe from a breathing human could let loose a cell that can multiply exponentially in an alien environment as well as dominate native forms of life. The team should have done months of experiments with the native plants and wildlife on the lander, as well only explore the planet in environmental suits until it was better determined that the human presence posed no risk.
I would have to agree with my classmates’ proposal that sociologists and social scientists would be useful in a first contact scenario. Although faced with the challenges of unfamiliarity, these professionals are trained to deal with such scenarios and be conscious for the most subtle of meanings in things ranging from art work to facial expressions. Granted such professionals would not be a panacea or able to comprehend everything, but they would be able to look for and understand much more than say a musicologist. Concerning whether the team should have had so many religious people, I would be hesitant to say no. Yes, I first contact team should not represent one religious mentality or have a sectarian agenda, however it would be wrong to represent humanity as an entirely secular species. Religion is a guiding force in human history and life and to hide or ignore this is not only a disservice to aliens but us as well. Thus, I would advise a team to act secularly and not be driven by a wholly religious agenda, but also be open to sharing human beliefs to extraterrestrials as well.
Generally I feel the team acted with compassion and patience, thus allowing it to bond easily with the Runa. These are indispensible characteristics that are needed to make not only a good first impression but to truly establish communication and relations. Two groups that feel empathy towards one another are much more likely to be open than two groups that hold mutual suspicions. However, the team did make the fatal flaw of giving the Runa agricultural techniques. Not to sound snobbish, but even I, who was not concerned about contaminating Runa culture was able to catch on that this was mistake based on my knowledge of history. One only has to look at how the introduction of agriculture or the expansion of food sources has an enormous impact not only population but a society’s fundamental way of life. Such examples can be the Green Revolution and the introduction of American foodstuffs to Europe. Even if the team could not have foreseen the negative effects of agriculture expansion amongst the Runa, it should have made a more informed decision and taken time to consider the consequences of such actions.
I would have to agree with my classmates’ proposal that sociologists and social scientists would be useful in a first contact scenario. Although faced with the challenges of unfamiliarity, these professionals are trained to deal with such scenarios and be conscious for the most subtle of meanings in things ranging from art work to facial expressions. Granted such professionals would not be a panacea or able to comprehend everything, but they would be able to look for and understand much more than say a musicologist. Concerning whether the team should have had so many religious people, I would be hesitant to say no. Yes, I first contact team should not represent one religious mentality or have a sectarian agenda, however it would be wrong to represent humanity as an entirely secular species. Religion is a guiding force in human history and life and to hide or ignore this is not only a disservice to aliens but us as well. Thus, I would advise a team to act secularly and not be driven by a wholly religious agenda, but also be open to sharing human beliefs to extraterrestrials as well.
Generally I feel the team acted with compassion and patience, thus allowing it to bond easily with the Runa. These are indispensible characteristics that are needed to make not only a good first impression but to truly establish communication and relations. Two groups that feel empathy towards one another are much more likely to be open than two groups that hold mutual suspicions. However, the team did make the fatal flaw of giving the Runa agricultural techniques. Not to sound snobbish, but even I, who was not concerned about contaminating Runa culture was able to catch on that this was mistake based on my knowledge of history. One only has to look at how the introduction of agriculture or the expansion of food sources has an enormous impact not only population but a society’s fundamental way of life. Such examples can be the Green Revolution and the introduction of American foodstuffs to Europe. Even if the team could not have foreseen the negative effects of agriculture expansion amongst the Runa, it should have made a more informed decision and taken time to consider the consequences of such actions.
Cosmic Silence?
For me, His Master’s Voice raises a very a number of important questions. For one, why haven’t humans been contacted yet? Even if human weren’t to be the target recipients of a message, wouldn’t it be reasonable to expect that we would come across some sort of “radio chatter” between different planets or ships? The fact we have not come across any intergalactic chatter doesn’t necessarily meant though that aliens do not exist. Perhaps means of intergalactic communication entail technological methods that we cannot detect. For example, it has been proposed that quarks, a sub atomic particle we barely understand, can be used to send faster than light messages. It might also be possible that extra-terrestrials communicate telepathically, such as in “Ender’s Game” or “Speaker for the Dead,” and we would not know what forms of energy to look for. There is also the theory of mediocrity, which is the concept that even though we humans are anthropocentric and take pride in humanity, to other civilizations we may not be at all intriguing. Perhaps other species are also operating under some sort of Prime Directive and do not believe we humans have reached a technological level to be interfered with yet.
Another question that intrigued me about the novel was the purpose of the Senders’ message. Personally I believe the message had an altruistic intent. As stated in the novel, the Senders would have had to exert a substantial amount of power to send an intact message throughout the galaxy. This rules out that it was simple “radio chatter.” It would also be illogical to believe that the Senders had a malicious purpose to send the message. They would have nothing to gain by sending the blueprints for a plague or disease millions of light years away to an unapproachable planet where they could not gain a military advantage or even consider conquering. Even if they sent a blueprint for a gateway or portal to bring their armies to the planet, by the time the message was decoded thousands or tens of thousands of years would have passed. Though, it would be wrong to rule out malicious intent entirely. Perhaps the Senders had a sadistic psyche such as the Hippae and would have reveled at the idea of intergalactic genocide. What appears to be the case, however, is a well intentioned case. The humans were able to decode formulas for energy producing substances and life. Perhaps the Senders wished to aid themselves as well as other species by enabling civilizations to produce cheap energy, thus removing the catalyst for many conflicts. The formula to create organisms was perhaps done to make a statement that path to success lies not in destroying life, but creating it.
Another question that intrigued me about the novel was the purpose of the Senders’ message. Personally I believe the message had an altruistic intent. As stated in the novel, the Senders would have had to exert a substantial amount of power to send an intact message throughout the galaxy. This rules out that it was simple “radio chatter.” It would also be illogical to believe that the Senders had a malicious purpose to send the message. They would have nothing to gain by sending the blueprints for a plague or disease millions of light years away to an unapproachable planet where they could not gain a military advantage or even consider conquering. Even if they sent a blueprint for a gateway or portal to bring their armies to the planet, by the time the message was decoded thousands or tens of thousands of years would have passed. Though, it would be wrong to rule out malicious intent entirely. Perhaps the Senders had a sadistic psyche such as the Hippae and would have reveled at the idea of intergalactic genocide. What appears to be the case, however, is a well intentioned case. The humans were able to decode formulas for energy producing substances and life. Perhaps the Senders wished to aid themselves as well as other species by enabling civilizations to produce cheap energy, thus removing the catalyst for many conflicts. The formula to create organisms was perhaps done to make a statement that path to success lies not in destroying life, but creating it.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Reflection: Look to Windward
Look to Windward presents a weird problem for us in this social science fiction class. Until now, we've dealt with encounters with the other under certain social parameters. We've know that things are limited in the worlds we've explored. Sure, some beings have been more powerful than us or somewhat incomprehensible, but they've been somewhere within our sphere of interaction. They were capable of being interacted with, and that in itself is worth noting (the obvious exception to this is His Master's Voice, but we'll leave that by itself for now). But the Culture? They've gone beyond scarcity, and gone beyond typical conventions that hold humans back. And we're still faced with huge societal questions.
If we can't blame problems on our natural state of scarce resources, and notably death itself, then we've reached the end - we can't blame our natural need for material goods and survival on our conflicts. Admittedly, Culture doesn't really have too much internal conflict. There doesn't seem to be an ounce of racism (we covered in class just how damn diverse they are), and in general they seem accepting of outsiders (see Ziller). But they haven't escaped their origins - they still have some about of conflict with the other. Chelgrians, while not exactly capable of wiping out Culture, are certainly in conflict with them! It seems as though conflict with the other is inevitable, even if you take out factors which limit human potential. Moreover, we suspect that the Mind overlords of Culture made the mission possible by backing the Chelgrians. Their own internal elements are turning against them.
The pessimistic view of Look to Windward is that conflict is inevitable - it cannot be contained despite how many resources you have and if you can conquer death. Can we imagine a situation where Culture wouldn't be involved in conflict? There's precedent in the book for other peoples making conflict with Culture, but being retaliated against severely - so even if Culture remains insular, there's probably not a great chance they'll completely avoid conflict with others. And their current system still has that margin of error, that 1% chance that things will go wrong.
But even if Culture isn't conflict immune, it shows us something - obviously conflict really isn't as common as it is today in their world. Even if perfect peace can't exist, there is still some kind of peace that is present in their lives. Whether or not Culture's peace is the kind you want is up to the reader. If we bear in mind that these kinds of conflicts are inevitable for us as humans, perhaps we can better learn to avoid them. PTJ left tonight with a call to humility, not a call to end conflict with the other once and for all. We must be humble as we tread into the universe, and recognize that which makes us human makes us capable of great conflict, but also makes up capable of great peace.
If we can't blame problems on our natural state of scarce resources, and notably death itself, then we've reached the end - we can't blame our natural need for material goods and survival on our conflicts. Admittedly, Culture doesn't really have too much internal conflict. There doesn't seem to be an ounce of racism (we covered in class just how damn diverse they are), and in general they seem accepting of outsiders (see Ziller). But they haven't escaped their origins - they still have some about of conflict with the other. Chelgrians, while not exactly capable of wiping out Culture, are certainly in conflict with them! It seems as though conflict with the other is inevitable, even if you take out factors which limit human potential. Moreover, we suspect that the Mind overlords of Culture made the mission possible by backing the Chelgrians. Their own internal elements are turning against them.
The pessimistic view of Look to Windward is that conflict is inevitable - it cannot be contained despite how many resources you have and if you can conquer death. Can we imagine a situation where Culture wouldn't be involved in conflict? There's precedent in the book for other peoples making conflict with Culture, but being retaliated against severely - so even if Culture remains insular, there's probably not a great chance they'll completely avoid conflict with others. And their current system still has that margin of error, that 1% chance that things will go wrong.
But even if Culture isn't conflict immune, it shows us something - obviously conflict really isn't as common as it is today in their world. Even if perfect peace can't exist, there is still some kind of peace that is present in their lives. Whether or not Culture's peace is the kind you want is up to the reader. If we bear in mind that these kinds of conflicts are inevitable for us as humans, perhaps we can better learn to avoid them. PTJ left tonight with a call to humility, not a call to end conflict with the other once and for all. We must be humble as we tread into the universe, and recognize that which makes us human makes us capable of great conflict, but also makes up capable of great peace.
Substantive: Look to Windward
Okay, let's get straight to the point about Look to Windward right now. It's not really about post-scarcity technology or aliens from another world getting revenge. It's about Americas activity abroad functioning as a "world police" entity. All of this is too obvious in the book - Culture's decadence rings of America, from the extreme sports to the fashion flings which seem pass as soon as they arrive. Chel, on the other hand, seems to be the "other" to America. Seeing as though the novel was written for Gulf War veterans, the Chel can't NOT be designed around a Middle Eastern nation or people. In the end, it appears to be a tale of a terrorist attack against America (or the West in general, seeing as though Banks is Scottish).
This isn't to say that Look to Windward isn't worthy of an in-depth analysis - it simply just has a generally more obvious analogy to the real world. We've gone over in class what the moral implications of interference has on other people. Culture, on the whole, seems to have the opposite policy of the prime directive - interference whenever possible. And who could blame those humans? We saw how those on Chel have a caste system so severe a member of a higher caste can throw a lesser person of society off a cliff and not suffer the consequences! That seems like a pretty clear-cut travesty to me. But we face the same problems here on Earth! Should the US interfere in countries that we feel will benefit from our own culture?
The message of Look to Windward is pretty clear cut in that regard, too. Culture started the war with Chel, and the Caste War, because they helped and armed the lower castes. It might of been benevolent to Culture, but it meant the deaths of many. Banks shows that this kind of help isn't only deadly, but it forms groups that attempt to retaliate against you! Quilan wouldn't have a motive to destroy Masaq if his mate hadn't been lost in the war. The war created the kind of person Quilan had to be in order to kill himself in that way. And that is freakishly like the world we live in, where the United States, functioning almost just like Culture, is creating wars and interfering, only to create people who want to kill US citizens from an act we see as benevolence. The message is obvious: interference doesn't always work.
This isn't to say that Look to Windward isn't worthy of an in-depth analysis - it simply just has a generally more obvious analogy to the real world. We've gone over in class what the moral implications of interference has on other people. Culture, on the whole, seems to have the opposite policy of the prime directive - interference whenever possible. And who could blame those humans? We saw how those on Chel have a caste system so severe a member of a higher caste can throw a lesser person of society off a cliff and not suffer the consequences! That seems like a pretty clear-cut travesty to me. But we face the same problems here on Earth! Should the US interfere in countries that we feel will benefit from our own culture?
The message of Look to Windward is pretty clear cut in that regard, too. Culture started the war with Chel, and the Caste War, because they helped and armed the lower castes. It might of been benevolent to Culture, but it meant the deaths of many. Banks shows that this kind of help isn't only deadly, but it forms groups that attempt to retaliate against you! Quilan wouldn't have a motive to destroy Masaq if his mate hadn't been lost in the war. The war created the kind of person Quilan had to be in order to kill himself in that way. And that is freakishly like the world we live in, where the United States, functioning almost just like Culture, is creating wars and interfering, only to create people who want to kill US citizens from an act we see as benevolence. The message is obvious: interference doesn't always work.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Substantive: Look to Windward
"Donna Noble has left the library. Donna Noble has been saved."
When reading Look to Windward, these words kept rebounding and rebounding through my head. Anyone who has been exposed to Steven Moffat's writing (incidentally, another Scotsman, although his realm is mainly television) knows that he can do some scary things with very common ideas. One of the concepts he comes up with (in the Doctor Who episode Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead) is that people--their hopes, their dreams, their lives--can be preserved in technology. When the Library starts going to hell, the computer literally saves everyone in it--by placing them in its hard drive. It creates a weird kind of stinted immortality, preserved in the body of a large computer, who essentially coordinates scenarios for its various inhabitants in a way that is eerily Matrix-esque.
I thought about this during Look to Windward because of the Chel concept of an afterlife, which they have apparently made literal with the advent of the SoulKeepers, with the Sublimed Chelgrian-Puen as gatekeepers to a literal afterlife. And yet, there seems to be something in that that is...less than ideal. Someone in the book makes a comment about how nothing can happen in eternity as it would not therefore be eternity. Which means that this Chelgrian heaven is probably pretty boring. No wonder Quilan craves oblivion.
I've also been thinking about what Andrew posted above (I know this says Saturday, but that's because I started it last night). Having spent a semester in Scotland (and believe me, Iain Banks is everywhere in the University of Edinburgh bookstore) I thought Andrew's note about the Culture representing American imperialism was particularly apt, but not getting at the entire picture. I'm all for being wary of biographical fallacy but one of the general feelings one gets in Scotland is a sense of proud isolationism combined with a brutal wariness. It's very hard being treated as England's satellite nation, and it's something they've struggled with since the Acts of Union. There's a particular insistence in Scotland that what combining into a United Kingdom has essentially done is leave Scotland neglected in favor of English interests, to the extent that the group in power now in Scottish parliament is a secessionist group known as the SNP:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/scotland/8553367.stm
I'm wondering if maybe some of what Banks is showing us in the contrast between the humans of the Culture and the nature of the other species has something along these lines, or if it is merely a commentary on the horrific decadence of Western culture in general. While he does seem to criticize Chelgrian culture for being exceptionally caste-devoted, the one person (Ziller) who seems so adamantly against it isn't much of a hero and in fact turns out to be fairly annoying.
When reading Look to Windward, these words kept rebounding and rebounding through my head. Anyone who has been exposed to Steven Moffat's writing (incidentally, another Scotsman, although his realm is mainly television) knows that he can do some scary things with very common ideas. One of the concepts he comes up with (in the Doctor Who episode Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead) is that people--their hopes, their dreams, their lives--can be preserved in technology. When the Library starts going to hell, the computer literally saves everyone in it--by placing them in its hard drive. It creates a weird kind of stinted immortality, preserved in the body of a large computer, who essentially coordinates scenarios for its various inhabitants in a way that is eerily Matrix-esque.
I thought about this during Look to Windward because of the Chel concept of an afterlife, which they have apparently made literal with the advent of the SoulKeepers, with the Sublimed Chelgrian-Puen as gatekeepers to a literal afterlife. And yet, there seems to be something in that that is...less than ideal. Someone in the book makes a comment about how nothing can happen in eternity as it would not therefore be eternity. Which means that this Chelgrian heaven is probably pretty boring. No wonder Quilan craves oblivion.
I've also been thinking about what Andrew posted above (I know this says Saturday, but that's because I started it last night). Having spent a semester in Scotland (and believe me, Iain Banks is everywhere in the University of Edinburgh bookstore) I thought Andrew's note about the Culture representing American imperialism was particularly apt, but not getting at the entire picture. I'm all for being wary of biographical fallacy but one of the general feelings one gets in Scotland is a sense of proud isolationism combined with a brutal wariness. It's very hard being treated as England's satellite nation, and it's something they've struggled with since the Acts of Union. There's a particular insistence in Scotland that what combining into a United Kingdom has essentially done is leave Scotland neglected in favor of English interests, to the extent that the group in power now in Scottish parliament is a secessionist group known as the SNP:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/scotland/8553367.stm
I'm wondering if maybe some of what Banks is showing us in the contrast between the humans of the Culture and the nature of the other species has something along these lines, or if it is merely a commentary on the horrific decadence of Western culture in general. While he does seem to criticize Chelgrian culture for being exceptionally caste-devoted, the one person (Ziller) who seems so adamantly against it isn't much of a hero and in fact turns out to be fairly annoying.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Reflection: Eifelheim
So I was rummaging through Cracked.com the other day and I came across something that I thought had a peculiar relevance to our course:
http://www.ufoevidence.org/cases/case485.htm
Basically, it's a 16th-century woodcut from Basel, Switzerland which seems to depict some kind of space battle. There also "Madonna with San Giovannino":
http://conspiracypage.wordpress.com/2007/10/23/renaissance-ufo/
Which seems to have a UFO flying in the background. The interesting thing that Cracked points out, however, is that some people consider this a typical Renaissance depiction of the "Holy Spirit." And I thought that, if this is how Medieval and Renaissance people (the word Renaissance in this case being somewhat relative, given that it started much earlier in Italy than, say, England) perceived religion, then Eifelheim is odd in that Dietrich doesn't seem to consider the Krenken as anything other than outlanders. He doesn't really seem to translate them into that kind of religious context, instead thinking of them the same way Christians (and particularly Catholics) have historically had a tendency to think of other peoples: as potential converts.
I think part of my confusion at this perspective is that it switches that situation we see in Conquest of America. The humans aren't the invaders, here, and yet they're behaving like missionaries, unable to understand or help the Krenken but willing to convert them nonetheless. The Krenken, on the other hand, keep hoping that Jesus will come out of the sky--literally--and save them. Their conversion is practical, not spiritual, and by the time they more or less realize that it's spiritual it's too late. The presence of religion in this book seems to be countered by an absence of faith, in the sense of belief in that which cannot be seen, but felt. This may, in some way, have to do with the fact that Dietrich is highly educated, but the fact that the Krenken are not perceived as something holy except in the sense that all men are potentially holy confuses me in the light of how UFOs seemed to be depicted.
http://www.ufoevidence.org/cases/case485.htm
Basically, it's a 16th-century woodcut from Basel, Switzerland which seems to depict some kind of space battle. There also "Madonna with San Giovannino":
http://conspiracypage.wordpress.com/2007/10/23/renaissance-ufo/
Which seems to have a UFO flying in the background. The interesting thing that Cracked points out, however, is that some people consider this a typical Renaissance depiction of the "Holy Spirit." And I thought that, if this is how Medieval and Renaissance people (the word Renaissance in this case being somewhat relative, given that it started much earlier in Italy than, say, England) perceived religion, then Eifelheim is odd in that Dietrich doesn't seem to consider the Krenken as anything other than outlanders. He doesn't really seem to translate them into that kind of religious context, instead thinking of them the same way Christians (and particularly Catholics) have historically had a tendency to think of other peoples: as potential converts.
I think part of my confusion at this perspective is that it switches that situation we see in Conquest of America. The humans aren't the invaders, here, and yet they're behaving like missionaries, unable to understand or help the Krenken but willing to convert them nonetheless. The Krenken, on the other hand, keep hoping that Jesus will come out of the sky--literally--and save them. Their conversion is practical, not spiritual, and by the time they more or less realize that it's spiritual it's too late. The presence of religion in this book seems to be countered by an absence of faith, in the sense of belief in that which cannot be seen, but felt. This may, in some way, have to do with the fact that Dietrich is highly educated, but the fact that the Krenken are not perceived as something holy except in the sense that all men are potentially holy confuses me in the light of how UFOs seemed to be depicted.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Reflection: Eifelheim
As you can probably guess, my post is going to be based on that YouTube video. Go ahead and watch!
Feynman, in this set of interviews from the 1980s, almost outright refuses to answer the interview's question. "How do you answer why something happens?" I think this has important implications for Eifelheim, especially as we watch the Krenken try to decode why things are happening around them. As Feynman points out, a visitor from another planet has no concept of basic answers to the question why, since they're unaware of the social underpinnings of the answer; they don't understand the context of the answer. "I'm telling you how difficult the why question is... I can't understand magnetic forces in terms of anything that you're familiar with because I don't understand it in terms of anything you're familiar with."
The concept of "how we know" is deep in the heart of Eifelheim. The most obvious examples of faulty logic is Dietrich's trust in the sometimes erroneous Greek and Christian philosophers. Compare this to the Krenken's "post-Einstein" stellar knowledge, the world views, and the answers to why is drastically different. But the logical extension of this is ask if Dietrich's supposedly erroneous claims are valid. What makes them not true? This takes us to the fundamental question posed in class - what is the difference between science fact versus religious faith?
"That's just one thing you'll have to take as an element in the world." Feynmen sounded a little fundamentalist there, didn't he? It sounds a lot like faith, at least on the surface. On our sister blog, the poster said that faith has no underlying metonymic qualities; it is irreducible to data-points. This fits nicely with my pre-existing world view, and something akin to what PTJ defined faith as in class. But how do we reconcile that with Feynman, who is making a pretty clear point that if you can't do high level mathematics, you have to take a physicists word for it. The layman's understanding of physical phenomenons is something akin to faith.
Therefore, I call for another definition of faith, a more personal version at that. Faith is belief in an idea when oneself is incapable of answering the why. This, of course, has wide implications on the religious and scientific spheres of influence, as it puts personal knowledge we thought we were sure of to the test. Let me add a reminder: Heisenberg's uncertainty principle. It is the "scientific" principle that tells us that we cannot be sure of anything in the world which we perceive. If we connect the two, our result is almost dumbfounding: all human knowledge as an element of faith in it. And if all human knowledge is as easily disproven as Dietrich's world view, we are in a shockingly naive state as humans.
Substantive: Eifelheim
Maybe there are successful stories!
So, maybe my last blog post was a little downcast. Maybe it's a bit premature to call for SETI to shut down! Eifelheim has changed my opinion, and perhaps for the better!
What aspects of Eifelheim make it seem that humans and aliens won't end up killing each other? We could chalk it up to author's discretion, but Flynn throws in so many other depressing scenarios (the down being struck by the Black Plague) that it seems that he had other intentions when it came to dictating the fate of the Krenken. The scenario is like The Sparrow, but at the same time, distinctly different. The humans seem as innocent as the Runa in this case (perhaps Eifelheim is The Sparrow in reverse with no Jana'ata?) And maybe there's something to that kind of innocence, or even ignorance.
In Conquest of America, Todorov listed three primary ways of understanding the other. The most familiar was the simple factual level. Cortes knew many facts about the Aztecs, but still destroyed them. Clearly this kind of understanding doesn't necessarily save lives. But what about the opposite? Does complete ignorance allow survival? The Runa and humans in Eifelheim seem to be models of this kind of ignorance - they are incapable of any kind of greater understanding of their situation. It's no coincidence that neither of them truly recognize the "alien-ness" that surrounds them. Of course, its difficult to pinpoint the exact reason why a kind of ignorance allows for peaceful interactions. There are clear factors which influence their "acceptance" of the other: inability to realize the full extent of "alien-ness", and the inability to understand the other on an intellectual level.
The problem with this, of course, lies in the fact that the Krenken and humans in The Sparrow ARE capable of intellectually understanding their counterparts, yet THEY make other critical translation mistakes (Jesus as an actual person in the case of the Krenken). Therefore, I think there's a kind of set dichotomy here, at least in cases where one species is more advanced than the other. The case might be that, in interactions like these, the wild card is whether or not death will result from mistranslations and ignorance. In the end, it seems, things may just be up to chance.
So, maybe my last blog post was a little downcast. Maybe it's a bit premature to call for SETI to shut down! Eifelheim has changed my opinion, and perhaps for the better!
What aspects of Eifelheim make it seem that humans and aliens won't end up killing each other? We could chalk it up to author's discretion, but Flynn throws in so many other depressing scenarios (the down being struck by the Black Plague) that it seems that he had other intentions when it came to dictating the fate of the Krenken. The scenario is like The Sparrow, but at the same time, distinctly different. The humans seem as innocent as the Runa in this case (perhaps Eifelheim is The Sparrow in reverse with no Jana'ata?) And maybe there's something to that kind of innocence, or even ignorance.
In Conquest of America, Todorov listed three primary ways of understanding the other. The most familiar was the simple factual level. Cortes knew many facts about the Aztecs, but still destroyed them. Clearly this kind of understanding doesn't necessarily save lives. But what about the opposite? Does complete ignorance allow survival? The Runa and humans in Eifelheim seem to be models of this kind of ignorance - they are incapable of any kind of greater understanding of their situation. It's no coincidence that neither of them truly recognize the "alien-ness" that surrounds them. Of course, its difficult to pinpoint the exact reason why a kind of ignorance allows for peaceful interactions. There are clear factors which influence their "acceptance" of the other: inability to realize the full extent of "alien-ness", and the inability to understand the other on an intellectual level.
The problem with this, of course, lies in the fact that the Krenken and humans in The Sparrow ARE capable of intellectually understanding their counterparts, yet THEY make other critical translation mistakes (Jesus as an actual person in the case of the Krenken). Therefore, I think there's a kind of set dichotomy here, at least in cases where one species is more advanced than the other. The case might be that, in interactions like these, the wild card is whether or not death will result from mistranslations and ignorance. In the end, it seems, things may just be up to chance.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Substantive: Eifeilheim
Eifelheim, to me, was this fascinating glimpse at an alien encounter that was, from our perspective, entirely alien. While every other book this semester has been an alien encounter where we see the humans on one side and the aliens on the other, the humans in this book were almost as alien to us. The vision of the world that medieval Europeans had is totally different from what we perceive in the 21st century, and the fact that everything the aliens said was essentially translated through that perspective was so compelling. The unfortunate part about it, though, was that while we could see the pitfalls of their conversation, it didn't seem like they could.
I'm not totally sure why neither the Krenken nor the humans could identify that there was a disconnect between what each comprehended. Medieval Europe was not exactly the height of technological civilization; the Krenken must have understood that when they talked about heaven it was metaphysics. Some of them converted so at least they somewhat understood the concept of religion. Or maybe not. I'm still not sure if it's that cut and dried, because the Krenken lived in this master-slave dynamic of hierarchy that means that maybe what they understood about Christianity was subordination. Perhaps they assumed that the humans were kept technologically stunted by virtue of keeping their Lord's superiority.
There's no real happy ending to this book, but given that it's set in the future and writing about the past, that's hardly surprising. Everyone Tom and Sharon are learning about are by definition dead by the time they start researching them; it's a natural casualty of history. The kind of downer portion of it is the fact that Krenken who choose to stay also die, and the ones who leave are left to an uncertain fate. Yet this wasn't a total failure in communication, these aliens coexist peacefully with the people of Oberhochwald and some of them, as I mentioned before, even convert to Christianity. They are not trying to control humans, humans are not trying to control them, they're not trying to kill each other. Compared to some of the other encounters we've seen, this one is pretty successful.
I'm not totally sure why neither the Krenken nor the humans could identify that there was a disconnect between what each comprehended. Medieval Europe was not exactly the height of technological civilization; the Krenken must have understood that when they talked about heaven it was metaphysics. Some of them converted so at least they somewhat understood the concept of religion. Or maybe not. I'm still not sure if it's that cut and dried, because the Krenken lived in this master-slave dynamic of hierarchy that means that maybe what they understood about Christianity was subordination. Perhaps they assumed that the humans were kept technologically stunted by virtue of keeping their Lord's superiority.
There's no real happy ending to this book, but given that it's set in the future and writing about the past, that's hardly surprising. Everyone Tom and Sharon are learning about are by definition dead by the time they start researching them; it's a natural casualty of history. The kind of downer portion of it is the fact that Krenken who choose to stay also die, and the ones who leave are left to an uncertain fate. Yet this wasn't a total failure in communication, these aliens coexist peacefully with the people of Oberhochwald and some of them, as I mentioned before, even convert to Christianity. They are not trying to control humans, humans are not trying to control them, they're not trying to kill each other. Compared to some of the other encounters we've seen, this one is pretty successful.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Reflection: Children of God
Who to send...
As sad as it seems, in the closing month of our social science fiction class, I seem to have reached a unanimous decision: it's not worth it. Of all the books we've read, Speaker for the Dead seemed to have the best outcome, as far as alien interactions. Which is sad, really, because the entire scenario relied on the actions of a 3,000 year old super intelligent human. No one in our reality comes close to Ender. The next best bet would be Grass, but even then, the aliens almost managed to wipe out all of humanity before they were barely stopped. What gives here?
Of course, maybe PTJ has an affinity for humanity's destruction (I don't know if he'd ever admit to this), but more seriously, the situation calls for us to ask whether or not a positive interaction is even possible. By and large, isn't this an essential question for international relations? And on a more specific level, doesn't this answer the question posed by Russell in her duology?
We can break up options into two categories: intervention and non-intervention. The non-intervention option is clearly the Trekkian option, a carbon copy of the prime directive. The problem with the prime directive is the limits of such a policy; at what point does following an absolutist non-intervention policy become foolish? Conversely, the problem of intervention is presented in Russell's duology. Intervention is risky, and more often than not, goes horribly wrong.
I almost feel bad for suggesting this, but maybe in this case, we best prescribe ourselves a blissful ignorance. Hell, shut down SETI now, or at least pray we never gain the ability to meaningfully communicate with aliens. It's just not worth it. But then again, attempting to prevent humans from doing what comes natural; the process of reaching out, communicating, and interacting; would be oppression.
What we reach is a sad conclusion - if we allow persons to find their own path of interacting with the other, human nature leads to chaos in interaction. Not necessarily chaos in terms of unpredictability (if IR wasn't predictable to some degree, we probably wouldn't call it a science), but chaos in terms of uncontrollability. You can't prevent someone like Emilio from going to Rakhat, if he truly wanted to go, without resorting to oppressive measures. And you can't prevent someone like Jimmy from discovering Rakhat in the first place. It doesn't matter if we send priests, poets, or scientists to Rakhat, or any other planet with intelligent life on it.
Whoever we send are always subject to basic human error - the inability to process the vast amount of variables needed to steer a situation to a guaranteed peaceful solution. We must be content with visualizing what we as individuals would like to happen, and accepting our inability to enact these steps to reach a guaranteed solution.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Reflection: Children of God
Why is Sophia Jewish?
It's a question I've been mulling around in my head over and over again. And along with the question, my brain started supplying this Yiddish song called "Donna, Donna," the lyrics of which I only know in English. In particular, the third verse:
Calves are easily bound and slaughtered
Never knowing the reason why.
But whoever treasures freedom,
Like the swallow has learned to fly.
The song was written during the days of Nazi Germany (I believe in 1940 or so) and that notion of human beings as cattle, to be ignorantly bound and slaughtered, is a Holocaust motif that I think runs very deep in Sophia's psyche. She sees the Runa sacrificing their children to the Jana'ata and she does not see population control, she sees a travesty--she sees Nazis, rounding up men and women and children like cattle and shipping them off to Auschwitz. Since World War II, it's been an inherent part of Jewish cultural memory, and one can hardly blame her for it. But I think, in a way, it runs deeper than that.
Sophia is the only one in the first landing party that comes from a religion that does not proselytize. And yet she is the one to take serious action. I think this comes, in part, from the Jewish belief that good deeds are not buying time in the afterlife, but are important for their own sake, here and now. Jews don't believe in Hell, and notions about the afterlife are generally fairly ambiguous. Sophia therefore comes from a long line of people who act. She mentions Warsaw; my mind thought of things like Masada, Judah Maccabee, Miriam. I thought of Moses, killing the Egyptian slavemaster. And most of all I thought, as I believe I mentioned in class, of Abraham and Isaac, and the message of the story of Isaac's near-sacrifice: We do not kill children.
Phil mentioned in his post about the Jana'ata and the Garden of Eden. I thought about this too, in a way, because Jews don't believe in original sin. The Jewish concept of the Garden of Eden is as a spiritual paradise, not a physical one, and it's a place to which we can return only when we have become righteous. And even so, it does not trump good deeds done while living. The afterlife (or the possibility of an afterlife) is absolutely secondary to human action and life itself. So when Sophia steps out into that world, when she acts, she believes she is doing what is right, regardless of the logistics of population control, environment, etc.
It's a question I've been mulling around in my head over and over again. And along with the question, my brain started supplying this Yiddish song called "Donna, Donna," the lyrics of which I only know in English. In particular, the third verse:
Calves are easily bound and slaughtered
Never knowing the reason why.
But whoever treasures freedom,
Like the swallow has learned to fly.
The song was written during the days of Nazi Germany (I believe in 1940 or so) and that notion of human beings as cattle, to be ignorantly bound and slaughtered, is a Holocaust motif that I think runs very deep in Sophia's psyche. She sees the Runa sacrificing their children to the Jana'ata and she does not see population control, she sees a travesty--she sees Nazis, rounding up men and women and children like cattle and shipping them off to Auschwitz. Since World War II, it's been an inherent part of Jewish cultural memory, and one can hardly blame her for it. But I think, in a way, it runs deeper than that.
Sophia is the only one in the first landing party that comes from a religion that does not proselytize. And yet she is the one to take serious action. I think this comes, in part, from the Jewish belief that good deeds are not buying time in the afterlife, but are important for their own sake, here and now. Jews don't believe in Hell, and notions about the afterlife are generally fairly ambiguous. Sophia therefore comes from a long line of people who act. She mentions Warsaw; my mind thought of things like Masada, Judah Maccabee, Miriam. I thought of Moses, killing the Egyptian slavemaster. And most of all I thought, as I believe I mentioned in class, of Abraham and Isaac, and the message of the story of Isaac's near-sacrifice: We do not kill children.
Phil mentioned in his post about the Jana'ata and the Garden of Eden. I thought about this too, in a way, because Jews don't believe in original sin. The Jewish concept of the Garden of Eden is as a spiritual paradise, not a physical one, and it's a place to which we can return only when we have become righteous. And even so, it does not trump good deeds done while living. The afterlife (or the possibility of an afterlife) is absolutely secondary to human action and life itself. So when Sophia steps out into that world, when she acts, she believes she is doing what is right, regardless of the logistics of population control, environment, etc.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Substantive: Children of God
Am I the only one who thinks there was something oddly touching about the way Supaari saved his daughter? And at the same time slightly troubling. I understand that, in a peculiar way, the circumstances of what happened to Emilio were the result of miscommunication (I can see how telling him that celibacy means "serving everyone" could be misinterpreted) but a society that treats other sentient beings as a form of cattle have a fundamentally different way of looking at things than we do. Or perhaps not. I suppose what I'm saying is that, by having sold Emilio into sex slavery, whether or not Supaari knew what he was, the Jana'ata was doing something that, by our standards, is morally wrong. They thrive (or at least Hlavin thrives) on Emilio's suffering.
So it confuses me that a child conceived in what is essentially an act of rape is the focus of Supaari's own peculiar form of redemption. It was an unhappy marriage and, at the beginning at least, Supaari seemed content with that, but when he sees Ha'anala, it's like everything changes. He essentially becomes a traitor to his own race. Not to mention how horrifying it is that the Runa not only take him in but volunteer to sustain him by sacrificing themselves for his nourishment. I understand that it's an act of kindness but frankly it's baffling to me.
Also: poor Emilio. We give him the opportunity for a real, lasting happiness--exempt from the struggles of his own faith, content to live a decent life, and then it's taken away from him. That moment when Gina comes back and Emilio's disappeared made me want to cry, because I knew that a) he was going back to Rakhat and b) he didn't want to. He's not Christ and, what's more, he's not an emblem for the redemption of the Society of Jesus.
So it confuses me that a child conceived in what is essentially an act of rape is the focus of Supaari's own peculiar form of redemption. It was an unhappy marriage and, at the beginning at least, Supaari seemed content with that, but when he sees Ha'anala, it's like everything changes. He essentially becomes a traitor to his own race. Not to mention how horrifying it is that the Runa not only take him in but volunteer to sustain him by sacrificing themselves for his nourishment. I understand that it's an act of kindness but frankly it's baffling to me.
Also: poor Emilio. We give him the opportunity for a real, lasting happiness--exempt from the struggles of his own faith, content to live a decent life, and then it's taken away from him. That moment when Gina comes back and Emilio's disappeared made me want to cry, because I knew that a) he was going back to Rakhat and b) he didn't want to. He's not Christ and, what's more, he's not an emblem for the redemption of the Society of Jesus.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Substantive: Children of God
Anyone else immediately think the title of this book should have been The Sparrow Episode II: The Emilio Strikes Back? I crave a little bit of space dog fighting these days...
Sure, Children of God doesn't feature cool space wars, but it does have one thing in great abundance: an Old Testament God. Perhaps it's once aspect of the author's own personality, but the God featured prominently in Children of God is not an infinitely loving God. Russell, while hinting at Emilio as a Jesus figure in The Sparrow, seemingly drops this pretense in her sequel; Emilio may have been resurrected, but he has assumed a more human form rather than a divine form. Emilio's suffering is no longer obviously akin to Jesus either - the battery and drugging he endures on the Bruno seem almost excessive, into the territory of a truly vengeful God.
And if we are dealing with a vengeful God, than what of Sophia? If we do take her name to be the embodiment of the wisdom of God, then her crusade against the Jana'ata could be pictured as a righteous crusade. She even imparts much of her own religion and language upon the Runa (using "Hebrew for prayer"). So, is she right to do this?
Russell makes Sophia's character very ambiguous. On one hand, Russell has purposely given her a Biblical name, and put religious power in her hands. At the same time, Russell makes Sophia a catalyst for war. A war which costs the lives of an entire species. At the end of the book, I feel quite alone in thinking that what Sophia led the Runa to do was theoretically wrong.
I made this point in my original The Sparrow reflection post - that Sophia's actions lead the resistance of the Runa against the Jana'ata was fundamentally wrong. Personally, I find the actions of Sophia in Children of God vindicating my position. Although at the time of writing my blog post I had no idea Sophia survived, it seems appropriate that Russell continued Sophia's campaign. In the end, her radical views about the Runa flipped the situation completely, and went "beyond an eye for an eye".
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Just a thought
The Babel fish
"Meanwhile, the poor Babel fish, by effectively removing all barriers to communication between different races and cultures, has caused more and bloodier wars than anything else in the history of creation." (The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Chapter 6)
"Meanwhile, the poor Babel fish, by effectively removing all barriers to communication between different races and cultures, has caused more and bloodier wars than anything else in the history of creation." (The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Chapter 6)
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Reflection: Conquest of America
We spoke a lot in class the other day about what constitutes true understanding in cross-species communication. And one of the distinctions that we kept finding was this notion of manipulation. I mean, in Conquest of America, Columbus clearly didn't understand the Indians (to the extent that he basically kept insisting that Cuba wasn't an island) but he understood enough to manipulate them into thinking that he'd taken the moon away from them because they didn't understand the concept of a lunar eclipse. Cortes probably understood the Aztecs better--in fact, I think we voted in class that he basically exhibited greater understanding, but I think the caveat of that was that he understood them in the sense of being able to manipulate them into thinking he was Quetzalcoatl. And I started wondering, in a weird way, if that's the sense the Jana'ata have of understanding humans. Given, they seem pretty ethnocentric, but it seems like a lot of the interactions in The Sparrow have to do with the Jana'ata taking advantage of humanity--until the obvious, at the end.
I've been thinking about it a lot because we have a tendency, even in positive interactions like we see in Speaker, to think of ourselves as these horrible invaders and the alien race as basically benevolent if they don't kill or molest us. In Speaker though, both the Buggers and the Piggies do have ulterior motives for human contact--the piggies individually seek their rough equivalent of eternal life, and the Hive Queen basically hangs on to Ender so she can reestablish herself and her civilization. Is that any different or better than the whole Gold, Glory, God thing we find in early American conquest? Given, in those cases we seem to be the aggressors but I can't figure out if the nature of the conquest necessarily lends moral points to one side or the other.
I also wish we could bring up Mass Effect in class sometime. I know it's a video game but it and its mind-numbingly beautiful sequel are so immersive and well-written that I have a tendency to think of the ME universe as being roughly on par with some sort of higher-class space opera. And one of the things ME addresses is this notion of how difficult it is to deal or cope with a species that is fundamentally different. The entire first game centers around finding out about this long-defunct alien race called the Protheans and their conquest by the Reapers, who aren't actually biological but are nonetheless sentient. And the thing about the Reapers is that because they're inorganic they have this idea that it is necessary to enslave and subsequently wipe out all life. How do you argue for the relevance of humankind with something like that?
I've been thinking about it a lot because we have a tendency, even in positive interactions like we see in Speaker, to think of ourselves as these horrible invaders and the alien race as basically benevolent if they don't kill or molest us. In Speaker though, both the Buggers and the Piggies do have ulterior motives for human contact--the piggies individually seek their rough equivalent of eternal life, and the Hive Queen basically hangs on to Ender so she can reestablish herself and her civilization. Is that any different or better than the whole Gold, Glory, God thing we find in early American conquest? Given, in those cases we seem to be the aggressors but I can't figure out if the nature of the conquest necessarily lends moral points to one side or the other.
I also wish we could bring up Mass Effect in class sometime. I know it's a video game but it and its mind-numbingly beautiful sequel are so immersive and well-written that I have a tendency to think of the ME universe as being roughly on par with some sort of higher-class space opera. And one of the things ME addresses is this notion of how difficult it is to deal or cope with a species that is fundamentally different. The entire first game centers around finding out about this long-defunct alien race called the Protheans and their conquest by the Reapers, who aren't actually biological but are nonetheless sentient. And the thing about the Reapers is that because they're inorganic they have this idea that it is necessary to enslave and subsequently wipe out all life. How do you argue for the relevance of humankind with something like that?
Friday, April 9, 2010
"Empathy and Violence Have Similar Circuits in the Brain"
Oi, I couldn't let this go unseen by our class. A recent article on ScienceDaily.com reports on a new neural study that shows that, "the brain circuits responsible for empathy are in part the same as those involved with violence." The study suggests that as one gains more empathy for another, the propensity for violence towards that other is reduced. Does this mean that characters like Ender aren't realistically possible? Or perhaps there are more dimensions to our analysis than we initially thought? For me, this reinforces the boundary between a kind of understanding that is simply fact based, and a kind of understanding that's more intimate and value based in nature.
I'll edit this post with any more information I find on the study - it was originally published in Spanish, but I'll try and find an English translation.
Reflection: Conquest of America
The Question of Motivation
In my last post, I asked the question "why conquer". I ultimately concluded that there's some inherent value in the human psyche, some element of being a Homo sapiens, that gave motivational force to this kind of behavior. A great deal of last class was spent attempting to delimit communication and understanding, and attempting to classify what we understand as situations which are inherently communicative. These two aspects of interaction, communication and physical action, are ultimately intimately tied together as an action-reaction sequence. The question remains what aspects of communication prompt certain reactions. What about Cortes's communication with Montezuma and the Aztecs eventually leads to genocide?
The answer to this question lies in the motivation of communication. The greatest drive in humanity is self preservation, second only to the drive to reproduce. This should be taken deeply into account when considering communication. Note: this is a prioritization, not an attempt to characterize these drives. I am not attempting to say these are brought out in any obvious manner. However, these kinds of behavior ultimately drive down to how the genes in our body function. They have been tailored by evolution to encourage self preservation behavior and reproductive behavior, or else they wouldn't exist within us. I brought this point up in class, and I think the "cynical" example of breaking down classroom communication drives this point home.
Consider a general example of a student speaking in class (instead of harping on Tim's GameFAQs example again!). What is his motivation in doing so? For ease of thought, we'll characterize him as being very concerned with academics. Therefore, a student may speak up in class for a couple of reasons. For example, he may have his teacher notice him, or he may be better able to grasp the material. Both of which directly relate to his grade. If our student gets a good grade, it'll reflect better on him. He gains social capital. If he uses to good grades to go on to get a good job, that job will pay him a higher amount. The cash he receives is also social capital, representing some of his worth as an individual. If our student makes the wrong communication, he looses his social capital (like cursing at the teacher).
Gaining social capital allows the fulfillment of our two primary motivators: self preservation, and reproduction. Our student, through his immediate means of communication, is able to project for his needs in the long term: staying alive and finding a mate. Social capital works in a human system to accomplish these ends because of our societal structure.
Then what of altruistic behavior? We'll call altruistic behavior any behavior which, superficially, appear to undermine our two primary drivers. We might consider it to be "artifacts" of the system, accidental end results of individuals attempting to accomplish the two primary drives. As I said in class, the history professor might just be publishing an amazing manuscript to gain tenure, or to gain respect among his peers, which in the end are simply forms of social capital. Individuals need not even recognize that their actions lead to the acquisition of social capital, and need not recognize their expenditure of this capital on self preservation and reproduction.
Coming full circle, what motivated Cortes? As Todorov makes mention of, Cortes's slaughter of the Aztecs certainly wasn't an immediate financial boon to him - preservation of the population could of led to profits from a slave trade. Of the 95% of the population destroyed, at least a portion of that was due to disease, not part of any kind of "motivation". On the personal level, each soldier had a very limited understanding of the Aztecs. While Todorov focuses on Cortes's understanding of the Other, it's really the individuals understanding of the Aztecs that come to bear. To the soldiers, there was no loss of social capital when they slaughtered the natives, raped their wives, and worked them to death. In many cases, there was a gain of social capital among their peers.
This gives us a good chance to delimit understanding and communication. Communication, in this context, is nothing more than a means to a personal end. Its action-reaction sequence is used to get what you want, survival and sex, albeit subtle and sometimes hidden. Understanding, conversely, may be a kind of social limiter. For a Spanish soldier, what's the difference between killing one of his Conquistador peers and killing a native? The former loses social capital, while the later either does not affect his social capital, or is a boon to his social capital. Understanding is the recognition of the worth of another through their preservation.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Substantive: The Conquest of America
One of the main features I picked up in this book (and I was trying desperately to glean information from a story I've heard half a dozen times) was this concept of communication. Columbus in particular seemed convinced of his own worldview, and refused to participate in the acknowledgment of any other. For instance, his insistence that Cuba was the mainland, and not an island, caused him to criticize and abuse the Indians who told him otherwise: "since the information does not suit his purposes, he challenges the quality of his informants" (21). Christopher Columbus wanders into the New World with his own agenda, and as a result everything he sees or thinks he sees is oddly foreordained. His whole discovery is colored by this and as a result his understanding of his own discoveries is fundamentally incomplete.
It reminded me, in a way, of the troubles a lot of people in the various novels we've read have discovered in the course of their alien encounters. The bons on Grass, for instance, base their entire society on a terminology that is fundamentally Earthbound, and therefore totally different from the actuality of the situation, to the extent that most people who try to perceive it from outside are absolutely flabbergasted. It takes Rodrigo a long time to realize that the Hippae aren't really mounts but sentient creatures, because they function to an extent in the same way that horses do.
The Conquistadors took advantage of the Indians and the fundamental social divide between the two cultures with the natural assumption that theirs was the greater and more important culture. The Museum of the American Indian, here in Washington, has walls devoted to the gold the Spaniards took from them, to the various Bibles they forced on them (while simultaneously attempting to expunge their native heritage) and a specific wall with statistics of how many Native Americans died of disease during colonization. That victory is so close to the vague one we get at the end of War of the Worlds that I couldn't help thinking: what happens when we do encounter an alien species?
I'm not sure that humankind has moved very far away from the imperialism that caused this devastating massacre. With The Sparrow we don't have this situation because the explorers were mostly scientists and clergy--it was the native population that sought to exploit them for personal gain, but that difference in communication turned out to be critical.
The way Cortes behaved with the Aztecs reminded me a lot of the Bene Gesserit and the way they took advantage of and implemented messianic legends on Arrakis in Dune. It's sort of dubious, admittedly, whether or not Cortes was actually regarded as the reincarnation of a god or messianic figure, but if it is even remotely true then Cortes took advantage of this to facilitate his own conquest.
It reminded me, in a way, of the troubles a lot of people in the various novels we've read have discovered in the course of their alien encounters. The bons on Grass, for instance, base their entire society on a terminology that is fundamentally Earthbound, and therefore totally different from the actuality of the situation, to the extent that most people who try to perceive it from outside are absolutely flabbergasted. It takes Rodrigo a long time to realize that the Hippae aren't really mounts but sentient creatures, because they function to an extent in the same way that horses do.
The Conquistadors took advantage of the Indians and the fundamental social divide between the two cultures with the natural assumption that theirs was the greater and more important culture. The Museum of the American Indian, here in Washington, has walls devoted to the gold the Spaniards took from them, to the various Bibles they forced on them (while simultaneously attempting to expunge their native heritage) and a specific wall with statistics of how many Native Americans died of disease during colonization. That victory is so close to the vague one we get at the end of War of the Worlds that I couldn't help thinking: what happens when we do encounter an alien species?
I'm not sure that humankind has moved very far away from the imperialism that caused this devastating massacre. With The Sparrow we don't have this situation because the explorers were mostly scientists and clergy--it was the native population that sought to exploit them for personal gain, but that difference in communication turned out to be critical.
The way Cortes behaved with the Aztecs reminded me a lot of the Bene Gesserit and the way they took advantage of and implemented messianic legends on Arrakis in Dune. It's sort of dubious, admittedly, whether or not Cortes was actually regarded as the reincarnation of a god or messianic figure, but if it is even remotely true then Cortes took advantage of this to facilitate his own conquest.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Substantive: Conquest of America
Why conquer?
Does anyone else get the feeling that the subtitle of Todorov's book The Conquest of America should have been "The Question of Gold and Religion"? Those two subjects seem to come up quiet a bit...
Seriously though, both of these concepts (wealth and God) are inextricably tied within Todorov's historical account of the Americas, with a strong undercurrent of glory for the homeland. So, I think a pretty basic question is worth asking, and getting at an answer to this question may reveal more than expected. Why conquer? Columbus takes God and gold seriously. For him "the goal of conquest is to spread the Christian religion." Gold for the kingdom, and God for the natives.
Cortes is different though. For him, God is a way to conquer the nation, not the end goal of the conquering. Again, Todorov writes that "in practice, religious discourse is one of the means assuring the conquest's success: end and means have changed places."
It's difficult for me to entirely understand the hows and whys of these conquests. So far, I've analyzed the literature with a specific approach - that is, the naturalistic approach, assigning ecological concepts to the human and alien interactions. But here, we face a different situation. This is a purely intra-specific conflict. Can we still apply biology concepts to our own infighting?
Let's start with an even more basic question: is intra-species conflict a "natural" state? A.k.a., did it come about on it's own before humans, or can we see it in other species? Sure, there's often small scale, individual level conflict in nature, whether over mates, or food. Rare is large scale, group conflict, previously thought to be unique to humans. But we know this isn't the case any more.
A video less than 10 years old, it shows humanity is clearly not the only practitioner of war and conquest. (As a side note, play attention close to the 3:22 mark - an action familiar to the Jana'ata hitting very close to home).
For these chimps, the fruit of the tree is similar to the human concept of wealth, namely gold. They follow the same kind of form as the sailors in each expedition, pursuing one goal, one resource. But it's evident from Todorov that Columbus and Cortes have some kind of motivation beyond the purely material - motivation has moved into the spiritual realm. Is the spiritual component of their conquest simply a type of excuse for the conquerors, or an actual motivator? If there weren't any gold there, or supposed "trading opportunities", would the conquistadors even bother?
I believe that yes, the conquistadors would still conquer - that the domination of the other is an aspect of human nature, and was clearly an aspect of our ancestors which was passed onto our primate relatives. Material wealth or posession of niche resources need not be a specific goal of the conquering or attacking. This is the primary difference between interspecific conflict and intraspecific conflict: conflict among humans needs no physical goal.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Reflection: The Sparrow
Sophia was wrong, and killed herself, her baby, George, and Jimmy. She was guilty of human hubris. We cannot make her mistake.
In evolutionary biology, it's very difficult to deal with humans. So difficult, in fact, that most of time time, humans are simply not included in the equation. The classic phrase is that "humans are no longer subject to natural selection". We sometimes refer to humanity as a "welfare society". Although that has many definitions, I define a welfare society as a group of individuals who are no longer subjected to the pressure of natural selection.
In class, it was correctly identified that the development of agriculture marked humanity's passage into a welfare society. Surplus resources through agriculture allows a reallocation of priorities. The weak and sickly are allowed to live. The mind can be set towards loftier goals than food, water, and shelter. The human moral system is allowed to take hold in a significant manner; the mother with a sick child can focus on nursing her young back to health, instead of chasing herds of game.
But human welfare society is just that: human. It is unique to us. Some may argue for its recognition as a natural state, apart from nature, but I disagree with those assertions, despite my definition. Although separated from natural selection, a welfare state has its origins in a natural, ecological order. But it is this very reason why we cannot extend this welfare state beyond humans. It is rare chance that we do successfully, and when it is accomplished, it is done with species who through other means are far more adapted to such a communal lifestyle than others. Rakhat, and the Runa and Jana'ata who live on Rakhat, are not prime domestic species. We cannot extend our welfare society to them.
What happened on Rakhat is what happens all the time on Earth: humans attempt to change a system on their own biases. The gardens introduced by the humans were problematic, but could be taken care of. Within the context of Rakhat ecology, the Runa could be culled, and the gardens could be destroyed. Humans could of survived the conflict. Sofia took the human welfare society where it should not go, and tipped the delicate ecological balance of the planet too far. What Sofia did was fundamentally wrong.
The moral question Russell grapples with in The Sparrow is humanity's capability of restraining itself in the face of interspecific relationships. Yes, humanity could "fix" the Rakhat system; humanity could prevent the culling of Runa and remove the Jana'ata from power. But we already know the consequences of tampering with systems that evolved naturally; we deal with these consequences everyday on Earth. There are too many variables, too much to attempt to control. Tampering removes balance, and ends with destruction. The Jana'ata killed the Runa infants, but Sophia killed the the Runa adults fighting back. Sophia killed George and her husband through her own ignorance. It was a terrible price to pay to learn that it is impossible to include different sentient species in a human welfare society.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Reflection: The Sparrow
I talked in class (and I think, failed to make my point a little bit) about the fine line of anthropology and moral culpability. What I think I was trying to point out was that the society the Jana'ata lived in created a pretty unfortunate scenario. These third-born males have little to no outlet, being unable to reproduce, and being offered token concubines by their better-off siblings doesn't always seem to do the trick in terms of relieving their feelings of impotence and discontent. Then you get someone like Kitheri, who has made a triumph out of what we could consider perversity--his poetry is, according to Emilio, essentially pornography, and not in an ironic, Robert Burns' Merry Muses of Caledonia way.
Although, if you think of the kind of rapture and connoisseurship Kitheri et al. seem to attach to their poetry, it's more akin to something like the Song of Songs than a kind of perversity. It's only that we see it from the perspective of Emilio, who was essentially treated as a beast, and what we consider morally culpable--i.e., the fact that he was brutally raped, and that his suffering was in fact a kind of aphrodisiac to the Jana'ata--but we don't know if they perceive suffering in the same way we perceive suffering. After all, we come from a planet where we force-feed geese until their liver are soft and distended. I could also mention veal...Maybe they viewed Emilio (and this has been indicated) as a kind of beast as opposed to a person--which is easy when you realize that they eat the children of the only other sentient species on the planet.
I'm not a Jana'ata apologist--I'm just trying to understand and put into perspective an act that is otherwise mind-numbingly horrifying.
Although, if you think of the kind of rapture and connoisseurship Kitheri et al. seem to attach to their poetry, it's more akin to something like the Song of Songs than a kind of perversity. It's only that we see it from the perspective of Emilio, who was essentially treated as a beast, and what we consider morally culpable--i.e., the fact that he was brutally raped, and that his suffering was in fact a kind of aphrodisiac to the Jana'ata--but we don't know if they perceive suffering in the same way we perceive suffering. After all, we come from a planet where we force-feed geese until their liver are soft and distended. I could also mention veal...Maybe they viewed Emilio (and this has been indicated) as a kind of beast as opposed to a person--which is easy when you realize that they eat the children of the only other sentient species on the planet.
I'm not a Jana'ata apologist--I'm just trying to understand and put into perspective an act that is otherwise mind-numbingly horrifying.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Substantive: The Sparrow
Earlier this week, I got a rare chance to sit down and chat with another connoisseur of science fiction, my mother! We took this chance to talk about some of the finer points of Lem's His Master's Voice, and came to a mutual conclusion about American science fiction: things don't go nearly bad enough in first contact situations. "Of all the science fiction I've read, people seem to think first contact will go well. Trust me, things will go much worse," my mother said. The next day, I started reading The Sparrow, and realized I was about to read the story of first contact gone wrong.
After finishing The Sparrow, it's tempting to focus on the religious themes of the novel. Many stand out, in particular Emilio's role as a Christ figure, and Sophia's role as a feminine incarnation of God (thanks to Tuesday movie night for that find). The novel itself presents many faces, the religious face being one of many. But, I think the religious topic will be exhausted in class, so I'll steer clear for now. I want to highlight the aliens in The Sparrow.
Much like my mother said, first contact goes far too well in far too many situations. Star Trekkian visions of the future, as pleasingly utopian as they are, reflect poorly on reality. Case and point: after watching the ST:TNG episode "Who Watches the Watchers", it's painfully obvious that alien society will be nothing like the "proto-Vulcan" society featured in the episode. Star Trek suffers severely from human projection - a lack of cultural imagination and emotion, and we get aliens who are essentially humans.
Russell openly mocks this kind of assumption, when Anne comments that, "In Star Trek, everyone speaks English!" But even Russell suffers severely from human projections on alien culture. She designs a two cultures who are essentially bipedal apes with a penchant for living in communities, a painfully human construct. Russell brings the aliens "foreignness" to a sufficient point, at least to a point where there is a continual unease among the human party. The foreignness also serves to cause the chain reaction of tragic events which serves as the impetus for the book's climax. In the long run, though, one could simply replace "Runa" with slave and "Jana'ata" with master, and still accomplish an effective plot (which may paint The Sparrow as more of a philosophical drama than science fiction).
Lem assures us in His Master's Voice that alien life will be more foreign than we are literally capable of imaging. Russell, perhaps unknowingly, captured the greatest dangers of what Lem calls "the Rorschach test", subjecting her protagonist to the depths of human horrors for assuming the aliens were like us, for defending what we call human rights for what are clearly non-humans. It's clear that Russell's account suffers from a high degree of near-sightedness, but its message is monumental enough to disregard her flagrant human biases. Instead of the warnings Lem's scientists give us, Russell shows us. Russell, in a reflection on human history of foreign interaction, plants a sign in the sky that says "Abandon all hope ye who enter here".
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Substantive: The Sparrow
I apologize; I'm usually a great deal more punctual about this blog posts but for once I was waiting for someone to post first. I spent the weekend reading both The Sparrow and Children of God (a huge mistake for my personal well-being and any feelings of optimism I was privately cherishing) and I'll have to confess Sparrow was at once one of the most horrifying and enlightening books about alien contact that I have ever read. I've often speculated about the insertion of religious elements into alien contact, particularly after we read Grass, and here we see what happens when the sacred and profane intersect and it is fascinating--and terrible.
Andrew and I were talking over Facebook, briefly, about the elements of music in a religious context and how they related to the book (at which point I obliquely spoiled part of it, for which I apologize profusely). I mentioned that I thought it was incredibly interesting how, having come from a religious background myself (closer to Sofia Mendes' mode than Emilio's), we associate music with something pure and sacred. In this book, however, we find out that those musical messages, those songs we've been hearing from across the stars, are actually the account of something pretty profane--basically pornography. And the fact that, after twenty-nine years, Sandoz's celibacy is ended at the beginning of his tenure as a Jana'ata sex slave is just heartbreaking. But it represents something I've been consistently worried about: the difficulties in interspecies communication.
With the Runa, linguistic understanding seems to be more clear--the scientists and missionaries spend a significant period of time among them and it seems to be part of their MO to learn different languages and interpret in order to facilitate trade. But because of the way Jana'ata culture is set up and the way Emilio (rather blunderingly) explains his role as a priest and his understanding of celibacy, it's implied that he gets sold in sex slavery because of a misunderstanding. And the same with Mendes--she interferes with the structure of society because she interprets it from a human perspective, which results in what is essentially a massacre.
I wish I could talk about this more intelligently but I'm still thinking it through.
Andrew and I were talking over Facebook, briefly, about the elements of music in a religious context and how they related to the book (at which point I obliquely spoiled part of it, for which I apologize profusely). I mentioned that I thought it was incredibly interesting how, having come from a religious background myself (closer to Sofia Mendes' mode than Emilio's), we associate music with something pure and sacred. In this book, however, we find out that those musical messages, those songs we've been hearing from across the stars, are actually the account of something pretty profane--basically pornography. And the fact that, after twenty-nine years, Sandoz's celibacy is ended at the beginning of his tenure as a Jana'ata sex slave is just heartbreaking. But it represents something I've been consistently worried about: the difficulties in interspecies communication.
With the Runa, linguistic understanding seems to be more clear--the scientists and missionaries spend a significant period of time among them and it seems to be part of their MO to learn different languages and interpret in order to facilitate trade. But because of the way Jana'ata culture is set up and the way Emilio (rather blunderingly) explains his role as a priest and his understanding of celibacy, it's implied that he gets sold in sex slavery because of a misunderstanding. And the same with Mendes--she interferes with the structure of society because she interprets it from a human perspective, which results in what is essentially a massacre.
I wish I could talk about this more intelligently but I'm still thinking it through.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Reflection: His Master's Voice
First off, Phil, I am definitely NOT a bastard! Unless, of course, somewhere between the course of graduating with a bachelor's of science and getting your PhD, you suddenly become completely disingenuous to society and decide that it's not worth your time. I can't say for sure, though. Graduate school can be a scary place.
I want to dedicate this post to the scientists of the world. The general consensus on HMV, at least from discussion and posts, that the book is firmly in a kind of "anti-scientist" camp. We've arrived in a situation where, when prompted with the PTJ's question of who do we entrust the message to, half the class is ready to throw it to the poets instead of the scientists (at least no one really threw it to the government camp). And before that, PTJ asked what kind of success we can attribute to HMV, comparing it to something like the Manhatten Project. Where we ended up was a kind of vilification of the scientific process, where we look at HMV, with its lack of answers and say "these guys suck because they got nothing definite out of it". Personally, I find that trend extremely disturbing in. Let me try and convince you that the HMV project, as it was outlined in the book, couldn't have been given to the "elves".
First off, the question of the "success" of the project. Whatever happened to the scientific method? You guys remember that, right? Going in with an attitude of whether or not something is "successful" is influencing your results from the start. In the end, that's what the government wanted in HMV. From the beginning of the project, it was pretty obvious the military wanted some kind of weapon from it. Imagine if drug companies ran trials predicated on whether or not their drug worked, and when their drug killed people instead of helping them, walked away calling it "unsuccessful" and fail to publish results (well... actually they do this pretty often, despite it being quite illegal). Just because you negate a possibility doesn't mean it's unsuccessful! In science, the very definition of success can be the negation of theories. Therefore, PTJ's question about the success of the HMV isn't even a legitimate question! That line of thinking arises from our basic assumption that the signal actually is a message, that it somehow means something, which is probably a common view point. It's the wrong view point.
But, of course, there are practical problems here. Let's go back to my "pure" science argument from class, which is really a distinction of "science for the sake of science" and "science for humanity". Science for the sake of science is something like what I do for research right now - that is, looking at the evolutionary relationships within a phylum of marine worms that have NOTHING to do with humanity. That's science for the sake of science. You can't really say my research is "successful", because it has no expected end-point. We're simply looking to expand humanity's knowledge. Of course, you can say whether or not the science in it is valid (like, you can't just throw away results you don't like), but it's not like I'm looking to make something out of these worms. Science for humanity is something like cancer research. It has a goal, and it can actually be judged on a scale of "success". But there, we know there is an attainable end-product. We have enough knowledge to form protocols - we know cancer is the result of human cell mutation, and not, say, alien cells inhabiting our bodies.
In His Master's Voice, the government treats the interstellar message like it's cancer research. This is the wrong approach. Discovering the TX effect during the HMV project is equivalent to me discovering that my marine worms produce weapons grade plutonium out of their rectum. It would be a product of research, but not a goal of research. So, we know the government took the wrong approach to HMV, but is there any evidence that their expectation of a product from the research directly affected the science of the project? Clearly hardly any of the scientists at HMV were government officials, and had no purposeful drive to make some kind of weapon. And clearly, all sorts of research was allowed, and Hogarth didn't mention research purposely stifled by the government. Perhaps the only influence of the government was the secrecy of the project and its placement of scientists in one facility - but it's evident from the book that this helped research, since public release of information hasn't led to many more successes.
So, would I give the project over to purely the government? No, since they clearly have motivations which hinder their success. We're already seen how being biased toward the message didn't help. Certainly just looking for a weapon isn't the best option. Of course, the second option is what we've collectively called the "poets", or people who think "outside the box". That's all well and good, but I see one massive problem there: they have no ability to work with quantifiable data. Sure, an artist or a poet thinks differently about the world than a scientist, but what could they do with it? Without some kind of quantitative analysis of it, something only the scientists are equipped to do, the poet is trapped in the realm of the physiological qualitative analysis. And, of course, early on in the book, Hogarth runs through what is effectively a proof on how physiological qualitative analysis of the message is one of the most biased ways of looking at the message. It's like trying to force it into a human context when there is no human context.
The most immediate opposition to this point that I can see is the "philosopher argument", where someone could apply qualitative analysis to the message without bringing in their physiological biases, someone who would think "outside the box". This is all a well and good theory, but in practice, it's hardly doable. How could someone who didn't have scientific training think qualitatively about massive amounts of very specific data? It doesn't work - it's not that easy, nor is it that simple.
Let me end by saying that Hogarth's critique's of the scientists he was working with was valid. But what I think many who read the book failed to realize that Hogarth wasn't criticizing all of science, he was criticizing bad science. And for people who don't really know a lot about how science works, it's hard to tell good science from bad science. Hogarth obviously had it out for scientists who thought there was some kind of "goal" for the message, or outright believed that it was obviously a message of good or evil. He was denouncing having a bias going into it. And, at the same time, he was criticizing them for not thinking outside the box - they weren't being creative, and they weren't relying on quantitative data to back them up. In reality, what the HMV really needed was zero government involvement in terms of driving towards a goal, and a team of scientists who had the ability to analyze their data as if they were "philosophers". In the end, it got a little bit of that, but certainly not enough. What HMV pointed out was the fragility of scientific understanding, and just how much we DON'T know. In science, and hopefully in all disciplines, the more you know, the more you realize you don't know. HMV was a grand testament to how much we don't know. And that's a good thing.
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