Author: Tomasz Sleziak
Bio: Tomasz Sleziak is a Postdoctoral Researcher in Korean Studies and Posthumanism at Ruhr-University Bochum (PhD at SOAS, London)

PLEASE, NOTE THAT THIS IS PART TWO OF THIS ESSAY. PLEASE, READ PART ONE.

​Consequently, and with consideration to quasi-metaphysical framework of the Cheng-Zhu school (which includes such concepts as the cycles of five elements, yin and yang, and the principle and the material force), natural phenomena, inanimate objects, plants, animals, slaves, and kings alike have their integral places and values within the worldview embraced by Neo-Confucians. What were the main ways of attaining the primary qualities associated with the “transhuman sages”? Were they available to everyone or exclusively humans? Apparently, the traits allowing for this transformation are not distributed equally among “all creation” (lit. “ten thousand things,” chin. 萬物 Wanwu, kor. 만물 Manmul). Although Xun Zi of the third century BC was the first to extensively analyze the fundamental differences between inanimate objects, plants, animals, and humans in terms of the characteristics of their material force, and Zhu Xi elaborated on this topic within his quasi-metaphysical framework, it was in late Joseon Korea that the participants of the Horak debate (chin. 湖洛論爭, kor. 호락논쟁) strongly expanded upon these themes by linking them to pragmatic problems of their surrounding social reality. The main actors of this discourse – Yi Gan (chin. 李柬, kor. 이간, pen name Oeam巍巖 외암; 1677-1727) and Han Wonjin (chin. 韓元震, kor. 한원진, pen name Namdang 南塘 남당; 1682-1751) – generally agree on the qualitative difference between commoners and “sages” on the basis of “mind-heart” and “psycho-physical nature”, which makes it difficult for the former social strata to perfect their principle (Suk 2019 : 241).
 
In modern terms, this conclusion may perhaps be reevaluated through basic acknowledgement that, for example, the farmers and slaves could not focus on higher intellectual and moral pursuits and instead prioritized satiation of their basic desires due to the harsh and uncertain nature of their existence. At any rate, Han Wonjin considers humans, by default, to be more capable of reaching higher virtues and intelligence than non-human creatures, since basic, innate qualities of humanity appear to embody the balance of the natural world most perfectly (ibid. : 241-242). While both him and Yi Gan supply philosophically valid arguments derived from their interpretations of the Cheng-Zhu canon to illustrate their points on aroused and unaroused nature and other topics, it was Han’s contribution that may be considered the most important in the scope of discussion of post/trans/non-humanism. Namely, in an attempt to resolve the issues of origination of the material force, its relation to the principle and the qualitative differences between the material force of humans and other creatures as well as sages (and by extension Junzi) and commoners, he postulated a tripartite division of nature allocation. In essence, he postulated that on one level, all creatures share the same qi-related qualities, on another level there is a species-based differentiation, and finally the “within-species” level entails individual differences between members of a particular species (Ivanhoe 2016 : 95-96). At this point, there is no reason to bring up further, more abstract aspects of the Horak debate – what suffices to say is that both in relevance to the topic of Junzi and modern trans- and post-humanist academic trends, Han Wonjin’s division of nature has been a significant development within Korean Neo-Confucianism, and by itself it deserves a closer look. The main, basic assumption of that scholar was that, to some extent, all living things, firstly, derive their principle from the common, original and universal “source,” yet – secondly – their actual differentiation (body structure, day-to-day behavior, instincts) occurs on the basis of the material force, the qualities of which vary much more deeply than the “source” principle. Animals and plants, due to their psycho-physical conditions have been stated by Neo-Confucians to represent only a fraction of the higher emotional and moral spectrum characteristic to humans (loyalty in dogs, work ethic in ants, social organization in wolves, etc.) at most; on the other hand, Jeong Yak-Yong (chin. 丁若鏞, kor. 다산, pen name Dasan 茶山 다산; 1762-1836), an eighteenth-nineteenth century Korean philosopher, among his socio-political and naturalistic theories included a statement completely denying animals of any conscious effort on their purely instinctive behavior that seemingly resembles human practices (Back 2018 : 97-116). Moreover, as may be concluded from Vincent Shen’s intriguing paper, the capabilities of writing poetry (combination of writing skills with abstract thinking), preparing historical records (a sense of historical continuity), and composing music along with complex ritualized rules of conduct (awareness of the activities that bring peace and order to society at large) collectively define what it means to be a human in Confucian tradition; perhaps any being that lacked these skills or showed no concern towards them would not be fully classified as “human-like” by philosophers of this heritage (Shen 2018 : 33-54). 

Consequently, it is difficult to conceive the idea that at the present state of non-human sciences and psychological research animals would be considered as capable of following the cultural norms set forth by Confucians, and therefore, by extension, able to reach the high civilizational standing -- the embodiment of the best human qualities -- associated with sages and the Junzi concept. Naturally, though, with the advancement of posthumanism, this particular outlook towards “cultural” behavior and self-cultivation of animals may be subjected to methodological changes.

As far as non-human “others” are concerned, the only part of discourse in Confucian tradition that is not focused on animals and plants treats the subject of gods, spirits, and ancestors – that is, the unseen “intelligences,” forces of nature or the tentative future, post-death forms of humans. To begin with, the canonical Confucius himself displayed a visible disdain towards discussing the activities of these apparently imperceptible beings in detail, while at the same time affirming the importance of rituals venerating them as the key component of social order; however, whether Confucius and his associates actually believed in supernatural creatures is still an unresolved academic question (Chen Yong 2011 : 70). While Chinese tradition in general supplied multiple theories of human spirit (including the division into the “earthly” po and “divine” shen souls) as well as various folk tales of supernatural beings, the main developmental lines of Confucian philosophy primarily focused on death rituals and ancestor worship as major aspects of a cultural, high-class, and most importantly ren (chin. 仁, kor. Yin 인; lit. humane) conduct of the living people. The non-anthropomorphic Heaven, whose actions and “will” relative to human society are typically considered to be in response to the conduct of a state’s rulers and inhabitants; the only metaphysical and elaborate theories on afterlife developed by Confucianism involve the aforementioned qi as the essence of everything that lives and its continued influence upon the physical world and human civilization even after the dissolution of the physical body, either in literal or abstract, moralistic form (Wilson 2014 : 185-212). Thus, once again, attention towards the widely-perceived “past” is seen as the key to enabling continuous cultural growth of human individuals and societies, with the self-cultivation process ideally leading to moral perfection and control over one’s emotions – though whether this cultural growth precisely equals modern definitions of trans-humanism and post-humanism remains to be seen.
​
Within this short essay, it is impossible to fully present both the general history of non-, post-, and trans-humanist trends within the history of both Chinese and Korean Confucianism. Nevertheless, it is highly possible that the most advised practices within this scholarly tradition – control of instincts and emotions via proper cultural conduct and reverence of the past – would, if perfected, in the eyes of a Confucian scholar, lead to an evolution of mankind, especially in the domain of interpersonal relations. With the gradual progress of medical and electronic technologies this goal should be eventually achievable – perhaps even in the near future – and although it is more evolutionary than revolutionary in nature, it cannot be regarded as wholly conservative, simplistic or low-achieving. The trans-humanist notion of self-cultivation as presented by Confucian tradition – regardless of its metaphysical framework introduced by the Cheng-Zhu school – is also relatively achievable, or at the very least, strongly tied to basic psychological background and day-to-day life of most humans in terms of its basic guidelines. In the end, this “past-centered” approach to human evolution might warrant more attention by modern post- and trans-humanists and should also be joyfully researched further in modern contexts – East Asian and global alike. 

If you want to discuss, exchange opinions or just chat – here I am, always jolly happy to receive your messages – tomasz.slezia[at]gmail.com.

Sources:
Wilson Thomas, “Spirits and the Soul in Confucian Ritual Discourse”, in Journal of Chinese Religions, Volume 42, Issue 2, November 2014, pp. 185-212

Chen Yong, Confucianism as Religion Controversies and Consequences, Brill, Leiden and Boston, 2011

Back Youngsun, “Are Animals Moral?: Zhu Xi and Jeong Yakyong’s Views on Nonhuman Animals”, in Asian Philosophy Vol. 28, Number 2, May 2018, pp. 97-116

Shen Vincent, “Confucian Spirituality: Desire, Self-Cultivation and Religiosity”, in Journal of Korean Religions, Volume 9, Number 2, October 2018, pp. 33-54

Ivanhoe Philip J., Three Streams Confucian Reflections on Learning and the Moral Heart-Mind in China, Korea, and Japan, Oxford University Press, 2016

Ivanhoe Philip J., “The Historical Significance and Contemporary Relevance of the Four-Seven Debate”, in Philosophy East and West Vol. 65, No. 2,  April 2015, pp. 401-429

Confucius, Confucian Analects, The Great Learning & The Doctrine of The Mean, tr. Legge James, Dover Publications, New York, 1993

Kim Richard T., “The Role of Human Nature in Moral Inquiry: MacIntyre, Mencius, and Xunzi”, in History of Philosophy Quarterly Vol. 32, Number 4, October 2015, pp. 313-334

Dean Mitchell, Foucault’s Methods and Historical Sociology, Routledge, New York, 1994

Suk Gabriel Choi, “The Horak Debate Concerning Human Nature and the Nature of All Other Beings”, in Ro Young-Chan, ed., Dao Companion to Korean Confucian Philosophy, Springer, 2019, p. 241

Author: Tomasz Sleziak
Bio: ​Tomasz Sleziak is a Postdoctoral Researcher in Korean Studies and Posthumanism at Ruhr-University Bochum (PhD at SOAS, London)

​Let us think for a moment about our instincts and basic desires. What can we do when we simply want to move forward? How can we direct these urges, or imperatives? Personal growth and education not only seem to be the core of modern human civilization, but also perhaps evolutionarily ingrained by default in all hominids. What’s the proper direction one can take, and the expected fruits? The satisfaction of learning new skills, proven academic achievements, financial gratification or physical perfection are some of the most popular outcomes one may desire. However, what if we were to embrace minimalism, and look at the future-centric pathways of individual humans and the entirety of humanity not in terms of something purely physical, but rather focus on the basic instincts, moral inclinations, family ties, and, in general, our societal position, day-to-day conversations, and impact made on and made by those who surround us? 

In fifth-fourth century BC China, Confucius (chin. Kong Qiu 孔丘; 551-479 BC), faced with the incessant political and military instability of the Spring and Autumn period accompanied by the wide disregard towards traditions and ethical norms, also pondered the  moral paths an individual’s life should take. Reacting to those whose response to chaos was seclusion in distant mountains and forests, he asserted that a human being should invariably accompany other humans for the greater good of them all – association with “birds and beasts”, overt affection for metaphysics, and abandonment of one’s duties were seen by Confucius as aberrations. And to provide a guideline for those seeking personal improvement and subsequently aiding their communities, he devised a model of a “sage” (chin. Sheng 聖, kor. Seong 성) or “gentleman” (chin. Junzi 君子, kor. Gunja 군자) – a transhumanist vision contingent on reaching towards the past.

The terms “posthumanism” and “transhumanism” indeed imply a future-centric vision of human transformation, or a denial of the widely-perceived “human values” achieved through technological development. As suggested by Foucault (Dean 1994 : 194-195), though, a social and cultural transformation may be achieved independently of political powers, through reference to the pre-existent resources of human beings – that is, the “technologies of the self.” Confucius and the successors of his philosophical line of thought – starting from Mencius (chin. Meng Ke 孟軻; 372-289 BC) - also believed that benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom, in particular, already have instinctive sources within human beings waiting to be consciously cultivated and honed through interpersonal interactions, with the primary goal of keeping seven basic emotions (pleasure, anger, sadness, fear, love, hate, and desire) in check, so they could only be directed controllably and in positive contexts. Incidentally, this balancing of emotions and morals bears striking similarity to certain Christian and possibly universalistic traditions, as shown by Richard Kim in his comparative analysis of Alastair MacIntyre, Mencius and Xun Zi’s (chin. Xun Kuang 荀況; ca. 310-289 BC) thoughts (Kim 2015 : 313-334).

Moreover, these instincts, emotions, and their rationalizations have been considered to stem from two basic organizational aspects of the universe – the principle (chin. Li理, kor. Yi 이; variously interpreted as or identified with ‘the source,’ ‘the origin,’and in general seen as neutral or purely good) and the material force (chin. Qi 氣, kor. Gi 기; the basic psycho-physical disposition of all things, especially living beings, which modifies one’s responsiveness to the principle and could be seen as either positive or negative in influence). Confucius’ vision of human society being regulated through rites and traditions transmitted from the idealized past and exemplified in the figures of semi-legendary sage-kings and civilizational founders was, in the eyes of towering figures such as Zhu Xi (chin. 朱熹; 1130-1200 AD), to be achieved through individuals self-cultivating the aforementioned basic components of their being with the aim of reaching personal equilibrium with the world and the rest of humanity. Systematic education and moral life were believed to be important steps in this transformative process, which, eventually and by extension, would also positively affect firstly the families of such “practitioners,” then the surrounding community, and, in the end, the entire countries through promotion of virtues, as outlined by the short but significant Confucian classic “The Great Learning” (Confucius 1993 : 369-371). These foundational aspects of the “ten thousand things” (metaphor for “everything”) may seem rather abstract, but the Confucian strategy of “looking forward while taking ideals of the past into consideration” also gave rise to a discourse especially relevant to non-human and trans-human studies.

The contributions of Joseon (1392-1910) Korean philosophers to the further development of Neo-Confucian brands– though almost exclusively centered on the Cheng-Zhu school of thought’s (chin. Cheng Zhu Lixue 程朱理學) interpretation of classics – received wide acclaim both in their own time and in the modernity. Their discussions, gaining momentum from the first half of the seventeenth century onwards, did not depart the societal and cultural constraints of the yangban (chin. 兩班, kor. 양반; lit. both sides [civilian and military]) scholar-nobility stratum, and in most situations did not affect livelihoods of commoners and lowborn people. At the same time, indirect references towards living conditions of the non-elite other came to figure sporadically within letters exchanged by Neo-Confucians, most importantly in the context of differences of psychophysical makeup between humans and non-humans, and high and low social strata. Furthermore, while the discourse between these philosophers was mostly orthodox and lacking in radical ideas, a few significant scholars attempting to bridge abstract speculation and empirical observation, such as Seo Gyeongdeok (chin. 徐敬德, kor. 서경덕, pen name Hwadam花潭 화담; 1489-1546), marked their presence even before the latter half of the dynastic period. Furthermore, although the basis of Confucian philosophy may be considered decidedly anthropocentric, it must be remembered that, as Philip Ivanhoe notes, 

“[A]ll [Confucians] believed that the world is fundamentally interconnected in a deep and ethically relevant sense. Because each and every thing in the universe shares the same original nature or set of principles, human beings not only can understand and interact with the various people, creatures, and things of the world but also feel a profound and all-inclusive sense of care for the entire universe as in some sense a part of themselves” (Ivanhoe 2015 : 401-429).

CFP: Posthuman Chinese Forum
Author: Chiarina Chen
Bio: Chiarina Chen is a New York based curator and is the founder, creative director at Negation. She has a background in criminal psychology and art history, and her current projects explore the posthuman condition and subjectivity. 

When I saw the theme of the posthuman and China, my instinct was one word, “FINALLY, largely because I was born in China and have grown up in a family which holds many Chinese traditional values, especially my father's side, the family of Chen. Such roots, or at least a very crucial part of these roots, have been traveled to me ever since living abroad. I came from a psychology and art background, and I am now a curator who explores creative practices in the field of Posthumanism. I am currently also translating a book about the posthuman into Chinese. I felt that encountering the posthuman was inevitable. Standing on the crossroads between the 4th industrial revolution and the 6th extinction, we, the human and non-human beings on earth, are experiencing multiple crises propelled by the rapid-expanding cognitive capitalism. We need to revisit ourselves as a species,  while rethinking the humanist ideal of man, in addition to individuality. Has man always been defined like this, especially with regards to his relations to the others and the universe? The answer is no. Thus we need more ways or narratives, more paths of history writings, situated in different spaces and times, to show what we are and what we can become. 

Perhaps due to the influence of the postcolonial and feminist theorists, I initially deeply resonated with African Ubuntu philosophy, especially when looking at it through the lens of Posthumanism. Such exploration kept leading me back to my origin, too—the spirituality, the interconnectedness, the regional perspectives. When thinking of Posthumanism in China, some questions are worth raising. China is geographically and conceptually big, and to avoid over-generalized enormous ideas, how should we situate ourselves? What are the subjects? What are the current conditions and praxes? What kind of cartographies can we trace or produce?

In the past few decades, China has been growing rapidly more than ever. However, the surging GDP does not accurately represent development. Under the influence of modernization, urbanization, and globalization, the country has gone through a series of conflicts and transformations. On the one hand, we see continuing advancement in technology and aggressive progression; on the other hand, there's a growing need to search and “return” to Chinese ancient wisdom and spirituality. This reflects the fact that, over decades of impacts from western society, people are critical of the modern value systems and have an urge to search for an alternative path to revisit their lives and relations to others. Thus, posthumanist ideas could be explored not only in aspects such as technology, material embodiment, and embedment, but also in relation to the ongoing complex condition and traditional epistemologies and cosmologies. And of course, exploring tradition or the ancient does not mean going “back,” but reflects a non-linear reactivation, breaking from the linear history written mostly by the West. 

Not too long after returning to the States from Africa, I was introduced to a rural resurrection art project in a village called XuCun, in Shanxi Province, China. I immediately took it. Several aspects of this project interested me: it took place in the rural parts of China and aimed at rebuilding the village, not through a “progressive” approach, but a by a path that revitalizes its “past,” reactivating its value systems while integrating contemporary forms. Rurality is a crucial source to Chinese culture and spirituality, and I'll explain why. 

As Descola nicely puts it, the binary distinction of human/non-human has been foundational to European thought since the Enlightenment, and many cultures on earth do not adopt this partition. For example, Viveiros de Castro pointed out the strength in Amerindian perspectivism, which posits a “multi-natural” continuum across all species. The idea of Ubuntu in African tribal culture, for example, sees humans, nature, ancestors, and non-human entities as interconnected, and one exists because others exist. In ancient China, the human is not an exclusive species under the dualistic frame, either. Human, non-human, ancestors, and nature are interconnected linkages. Chinese philosophy has always been about “Becoming,” which is highly different from the classic western  idea of “Being,” but more in tune with posthumanist monistic views of continually changing and becoming, as theorist Li Zehou argues in his famous article, “‘WU’ as the Core Source of Unique Chinese Traditional Cultural.” The word “Wu” is written as “巫,” and is similar to “magic,” which many sociologists such as James Frazer and Max Weber have highlighted. Li Zehou points out ancient Wu’s role in understanding the cosmos, nature, and crucial roles in channeling human activities into multi-relations. He emphasizes how Wu later merged with Taoism, and how it was further incorporated and rationalized into Li, or the Ritual Thought, The Confusion 礼. The Confusion Ritual is more recent and closely related to modern history, and was quite dominant before the cultural revolution. These sources, rituals, and activities have been preserved in the rural parts of China for thousands of years. 

Unlike many western countries, the idea of urbanization has been very recent and fresh in the past century. For thousands of years, people lived in a rural-city continuum. The city acted as the realm of careers and workers, and the rural preserved spirituality and family in the long term. People kept returning to the countryside to reach a balance. However, hundreds of years of modernization wiped out villages and almost all traditional value systems, which were once preserved in the rural. They were later labeled as the “Poor,” or the “Underdeveloped.” As the spiritual sources were cut off and the rural ruined, people were forced to move to the city, which later became the megacity. Thus, it’s a more complex issue than a migrated population; it is a spiritual and cultural crisis, too.  

XuCun is an ordinary village. Damaged, too. The pattern of the village, which resides next to Taihang mountain, is a Phoenix,. There are concrete new buildings as well as old, northern style houses. Luckily, many key places are still kept in place, and some traditional rituals are ongoing, carried by the young generation. When I joined the XuCun Village Project, many didn’t understand why I'd explore something that was “abandoned.” There are several trends toward villages nowadays. Big developers lead one, and the way to operate is to further tear down the original villages, build brand new modern facilities, and attract people from big cities to invest. Such methods seem to bring economic effects on the surface but in fact have deepened the village’s damage. The XuCun project started as a research project, led by a group of artists, architects, and critics, and gradually developed into a long-term cultural resurrection project which engaged the villagers. My role is to lead the creative projects, to conceive of ways to engage with communities, and to incorporate more contemporary energies and practices. Our aim is not to replace the village with modern values, but to restore the remaining traditional elements and gradually construct the rest by merging both traditional and contemporary modes. The process is open and can be very creative. That is to say, it is not our goal to “dig out” cultural relics, nor to go “back” and live in the past, but to preserve the remaining fragments and activate them through new thinking and methodologies. In this sense, it is not to chase what’s “next” either. 

To me, exploring Posthumanism in China does not linearly look “forward” nor “next,” but perhaps responds with a question: “Have we always been posthuman?” XuCun is an example of where we might locate ourselves when dealing with issues and crises of modern China, thus opening spaces for critical and creative explorations in the field of Posthumanism—full of challenges, but with possibilities, too.

Translation: Posthuman Chinese Forum
CFP: Posthuman Chinese Forum

Description: This title should be read from right to left, one character after another. It means Post (super) (first two characters) Human (third and fourth characters) China (fifth and sixth) Forum (last two characters). The very tiny marks in the bottom lefthand corner are my personal name marker. It was carved into a stone, onto which I then put on a bit paint and pushed onto the paper to leave a signature. I used "super human" instead of "post human" because not only do they have similar meanings, but “super” more accurately articulates my beliefs about this topic. A “posthuman” era, to me, would be the time of the cyborg, enabling humans to improve at certain skills, and potentially even master the word “perfection” one day. Lastly, the types of calligraphy I use are cursive and regular. The speed with which technological advances are made could only be captured by the essence of cursive calligraphy. Additionally, Posthumanism covers a wide breadth of topics and generates many skeptics and critics, so it is also a subject of carefulness, hence why the regular type is also used. 
​
Artist: Frances (Yifan) Zhang

Bio: My name is Frances (Yifan) Zhang, a student majoring in Psychology at New York University. I started my journey with calligraphy at age five and have continued ever since. I founded the first Chinese Calligraphy Club at Ulink College of Shanghai and lead a team of 60 calligraphy lovers to create our own artworks. We also organized fundraisers by selling our artworks. As a fan of Western culture, and by spending more time in the United States, the overwhelming nature of assimilation threatened to wash away what I was inherited with. But whenever I am holding my brush and facing that thin slice of white paper, I start to find the feeling of home and pride.

Surprisingly, I am also a great fan of hip-hop music and produce hip-hop music beats in my free time. Hip-hop music and calligraphy can be viewed as being on opposite ends of a spectrum, with one so vibrant and the other very peaceful. But I find a balance, a grey area to hold both properties within me. They say fire and water cannot mix, but I find the differences more meaningful when they encounter each other, whether it be two completely different cultures, races, hobbies, attitudes, or even living things and robots; I find such encounters very beautiful.

I am also the creator of the logo for the Posthuman Chinese Forum.

My experience when creating them:  The artworks were created with the aid of technology  since I was playing background music from my phone at the time. My lamplight was on to assist me seeing things more clearly. Even the final presentation of all these artworks required technology because I took their pictures on my phone, scanned them, edited them, and finally presented them on a digital platform. Needless to say, technology was present in the creation of my artworks, which represent the sense of ancient China. I think calligraphy work is in essence a great fit for Posthumanism. When we combine the human now with the human from the past, we see the evolution of our current calligraphy styles. Then, when we move forward into the future, our calligraphy works pave the way for future developments. 

My creation process is very spontaneous. I let the brush guide me rather than organize everything beforehand. I respect the brush, paper, and ink. The feeling of nature guiding me into the future is the key of all the calligraphy artworks I have created. 

Posthumanism  is indeed a very complicated topic that is not understood by, or even widely available to,  the public in China. But calligraphy, an artform which already has centuries of history, has been well understood by the Chinese public, including myself. The free flow of pace through these artworks has always been the origin of calligraphy creations. It is more than a human taking control of the brush, and is instead about using the brush as an innovation while creating artworks. 

“Glass”. That was the first word he spoke. 

A9B9 (they called him by this name after his birth) was laid prostrate on pearlescent leather, and an assigned engineer had pressed the gelatinous button on his umbilicus. It was the sun that made his eyes implode, all that sun falling like dam-fissured water through the vast expanse of glass. When he opened his bionic lids he realized it was glass, that he was not defenseless under those murdering lights. The reason why he loved glass! Why he spoke glass!
 
To all the architects and inventors of VitruBotics, A9B9 had a nostalgic quotient. A9B9, the last of his generation. The upgraded A9D9 robots were born without the navel switch. The last! He was aware of that weight. This knowledge was as extreme as the feeling of bolts and wheels fiercely rotating at different parts of his body, under a gossamer-like metallic skin. The first days were devoted to learning from the manuscript–company guidelines, transgressions, legal violations, human behavioural patterns, ethical responses, asexual romance, biological fluctuations, ancient philosophy, developmental history, nonsense literature, and other obligatory chapters. A9B9 read and reread the last chapter on “Desire”. It was the most anomalous segment, fabled for oppression and maximum number of jail terms. 

The first pages of “Desire” were mild. It had graphic drawings and explications of grass and moon and flower odours and sea tides and bee hums and bird plumes and whale sirens. On page 788, human mind entered. A9B9 found the dissentions around matters of freewill, punishment, empathy, phobias, gods, burial, ghosts, and death grotesquely complex and clunky. He failed to resolve the crisis of suicide. What was this sensation of dying? He knew that archaic robots were crushed and cremated, never recycled. That was not death. Not even close to how the body suffered the jolt, the vibrations, the contractions, or sometimes lay comatose for years like a sleepy mountain, or a clot killing, or untreated wound blackening the whole body. These mortal variations unsettled him, forced him into such disquiet that he often believed he was human. A9B9 thought how it would be for him. Would the screws stop, his fingers congeal, stepper motors and linear actuators freeze, the polyurethane pouch shrivel one last time? And his customized servos, electromechanical body parts, tracks and algorithms? Would there be a high-octane clanging of 1500 pounds? Robots could only be killed; self-willed death was not mentioned anywhere in the official documents. It only warned them of the dangers of becoming human; that the desires were there primarily for exhibition and for choice as well. But deep immersions in desires had their respective penal codes and disciplining methods. The most intriguing for A9B9 was the final page which approximately referred to the Fibrous Button. It operated only through light touches and manoeuverings, and inserting finger inside it was potentially dangerous for the health of robots. The deeper it was pushed the lower the body shrunk. The book ended with the words, “Do not accept the horizontal”.  

That was their guiding principle. Or as the fourth law stated, “If robots manifested desires to become horizontal, or displayed horizontal mannerisms, they should be disposed of with immediate effect”. Everything was inferior, lesser, subservient. Animals and plants and water and snow and humans. The Inferiors. All humans outside VitruBotics. Robots were called only when human efforts could not salvage. Search and rescue, police investigations, oceanic bridges, artistic buildings, and other human impossibilities. Humans in turn were neither ghettoized, nor materialistically expanding; they were just there. Like dispensable outgrowth, populating in the depths, on the surfaces. They were not expunged because VitruBotics was merciful after all. Or rather this surviving lot was a necessary reminder of the binary (?), a warning perhaps (?), a kind of homesickness (?). From that colossal height of 9 feet, all things below seemed human or grass. If one was not an inhabitant of the inside (of the glasshouse), body mass index, nothing mattered outside. A painting was as insubstantial as a flattened insect. It was peaceful up there; the shrieks and wails seized near the fifth floor. And the first five floors were a dump yard of iron junk. Not old robots there, only excess metal.

All of a sudden A9B9 remembered the third demarcation. AF, the epoch of After Humans. AF 3003. Place: ArtiUmanitas. All places renamed. No wars, only arrangements. No governments, only proliferation of VitruBotican manuals. It was his first time on the terrace. The sky was burning with fireworks from VitruBotics, but he gazed into the human abyss below. Light from tenements fulgurated like distant stars, occasionally gesturing proofs of life below. The ground resembled the night sky that day. A9B9 had developed an ineluctable habit of mounting the stairs leading to the terrace and observing the movement of these ant-like creatures from that concrete cliff. Their motion reminded him of tendrils, of roots underground, or wires inside his body. Continuous flow like a machine. They didn't seem non-identical. An unusual correlation tethered him to the human and nonhuman others. He felt inimitable and more alive in the presence of scattered riverine plantations than he ever did during days of machinic upgradation. Twenty-four hours auto-rechargeable cell, few extra levers and circuits, a visit to the newly furnished war room, or the first prototype of comrade A9D9, nothing could be likened to the perfume of cherry blossoms. A9B9 desired everything that was outlawed, verboten. Why were mountains and oceans forbidden zones? Why forests and human localities? He craved to drown under the waves, and leap into the depths from the brown massifs, or lose himself in coils of tress and call of animals. Why was the city, the entire country, and all countries around his country fenced with electric flexes? A history of torture and genocide flashed on his exiguous flesh. Perhaps his race belonged to one of those religions that must be controlled, a race that needed surveillance, inhibitions and guidance. Or one of those that must be tamed with the use of violence. But there was no blood, no one was dying of starvation or humiliation or accidental gunshots. There was, he felt, simply an aura of discrimination and shame. He sensed something abnormal stirring within his burnished ribs. It was the same deviance again, the same fantastical behaviour of an aberrant. He felt ashamed. He was not human, and the desire to be one produced these perverse sensations inside. It was synthetic resin and nothing else. 

Back to the question of cremation then. Why burn when they could reprocess? The makers had ambivalent notions about old body parts. Reusing them could increase their profit exponentially. There were debates, secret plots, sacking and hiring, and still they couldn’t reach a consensus whether antique materials had the power to corrupt the advanced generation. The decaying, the contaminated were sent to the ossuarium. The journey to this site was an annual pilgrimage for the robots. All day they would hear the moulding and melting of metal, and see flakes of fire and a little smoke leave the the funnel. Perhaps instilling a fear of death was more essential than paying homage to the antiquated. Days they would not eat out of an irrational terror. Eat that steely gruel that enhanced their brain and amplified their skills. It was a slow revelation for A9B9. That the rationale behind banning the Inferiors was the VitruBotian belief in the nineteenth century ideology surrounding sympathy. He went back to the charter and found a footnote mentioning a certain Earl of Shaftesbury who encouraged sympathy only amongst equals, and dissuaded his gentlemanly peers from sympathizing with the poor folk. They believed that the illnesses and instinctual bestiality of the marginal could enter through the eyes of the sympathizer. The creators at VitruBotics deduced that the fluctuations within human bodies and hearts could infect the robots. And thus the separation between them and them. In the archives there were cases of stray robots coming in contact with the Inferiors and a beating lump replacing their pouch, or flow of colourless liquid from their eyes, or instances of insomnia, or efforts to use rhetoric. With the first signs they were given barbiturates and then sent to the crematorium. The same reason they decommissioned the entire batch of humanoids. They said the resemblance was untimely, too distorted, and too monstrous. 
    
Robots were prohibited inside the human zones of VitruBotics. A9B9 longed to see childbirth. They could perform brain surgeries with dexterous hands, but childbirth was barred to them. He inferred that a forced separation was sustained between human and robotic consciousness. Everything related to creation, especially biological reproduction and art, was banned for being contagious to the susceptible robokind. The mythical belief was that the neurons connected to the fibrous switch were sensitive to the human virus. If affected, they would secrete white oil and send signals to the brain which in turn activated the fingers. The white oil then branched out and through a million tributaries reached the navel. Once the fourth finger entered the liquid the robotic body altered. No one knew anything about the aftereffect, the changed body, the readjustments, the reparations. It was as mysterious as that first blast before the universe. It had never happened. Staring at the black beyond, that is what A9B9 pondered over. That it was injustice. That man could compensate for the mysteries of space by his own organic procreation. That A9B9 could not give birth. Neither hold an infant palm, nor feed that white oil to a newborn.

A9B9 was certain that he was infected, that the human contagion was resting peacefully on his bones. That he was close to trespassing authorized regulations. That he was already on their radar and would soon be sent to the fires. The last days were a time for slowness. Images of his own inert body drifted over his eyes. Sockets containing weapons had become insensate, and he felt a lump of meat pulsating. Each thud was like that silence he detected in the world of the Inferiors. Sometimes he exhibited that dreadful impulse of bending and becoming horizontal. Days he would bend and find nothing but the collective pounding of hearts. Everything had a sound. Inside everything something pumped blood. On days of wind and rain children hid under rocks and laughed. When owls fluttered it made no sound. Dogs wagged when happy. There were insects that sucked from flowers and flowers that swallowed insects. There was a microscopic gate at the far end of the boundary wall through which men and women escaped to the seas and snows. Beneath the head there was the nape beneath the nape the arms beneath the arms the stomach where they processed food beneath that a hole for ejection beneath hole feet beneath feet grass beneath that clay beneath that skeletal remains beneath that? What was beneath the stony dregs? A recalcitrant passion emanated from the innards of A9B9. The desire to lessen, to shrink, to decay and decompose and disappear. To transform into them and that. He found more worth in the sedate evaporation of dew than in all the afterlives of technology. His insides were flesh and fluid and organs and he no longer believed he was imagining. A9B9 vetted and selected one of the vast empty fields for his final act of oneness. The sun coruscated and seemed to bless his thirst for spiritual cohabitation. This sun like that same sun on the day of his birth. 

One last time, A9B9 moved all his fingers over the Fibrous Switch. Most of the machinic organs were unresponsive to the electronic stimulus. He lodged his fourth finger into the molten solution; the switch cracked like a thin crust. All the metals in his body began the process of convulsion and spasmodic contraction. He was slowly entering the mythical. The metamorphoses were too sudden for him to grasp and levitate in the pleasure of his new form. A9B9 was human first, tongue and nails. Gone. A puma then, teeth and tail. Gone. A rat then, nose and feet. Gone. Worm then, invisible and hungry. Gone. Grass then, rhizomes and stolons. Gone. Mud then, soil, silt and sod. Gone. Beneath and beneath and beneath. And over and over and over. As grass again, green again. 

A9B9’s one singular dream. To sleep beneath.

Metal then.
​
Compost now.

Author: Xi Yu (Paula) Song​
Bio: Paula is an undergraduate student at NYU. She is currently pursuing a major in Economics and a minor in Business Studies.

Abstract：
Within the past decade, several controversies regarding the creation of human-animal embryos in the field of stem-cell science have repeatedly driven interspecific research to the center of public attention. Given the taboo nature of human-animal entities in Western society, few transhumanists—even amongst those in favor of radical alterations—view crossing species boundaries as a feasible option for humans to pursue. This essay theorizes the potential benefits of crossing species boundaries from a trans-humanist perspective, and defends the ethical nature of creating human-animal hybrids against several intrinsic and extrinsic concerns. Its purpose is not to excuse poor bioethical practices or promote deregulation in biohacking, but to reflect on the recent advances in biotechnology and their impact on the social sphere.

Blog Entry:
In the field of Posthumanism, transhumanists are mainly concerned with using biotechnology to overcome the limitations of human physiology and transforming the human condition (Ferrando 3). Integrating animal DNA into the human genome, however, is not commonly recognized as a possibility for transhumanists seeking “the fullest realization of [man’s] possibilities” (Huxley, “Transhumanism”). This attitude partly stems from the belief that there exists a fixed boundary between humans and animal species, and that human nature is so distinguished in complexity from animal nature that replacing human DNA with animal DNA would only produce adverse effects on the individual. However, putting aside the humanist assumption that animals are genetically “inferior”, combining human and animal genes for therapy or moderate enhancement—for example, to build resistance against pathogenic diseases, promote recovery from physical injuries, or exercise personal cosmetic preference—is, in many ways, comparable to producing transhumans through other biotechnologies, and arguably closer to scientific reality. 

From an evolutionary perspective, borrowing traits from other species to advance humankind is hardly a novel concept. If we observe nature, we recognize that genes are capable of transversing species boundaries without humans acting as the mediator. Interspecific admixture serves as a proponent of diversification, which enables species to survive under more disruptive, extreme conditions. The history of evolution in human beings has proven that certain hybrid traits can possess significant functional relevance and evolutionary advantages. Instead of leaving selection to chance or the vagaries of nature, a posthuman society can adjust according to environmental pressures by exchanging genetic information with other more adapted species utilizing the genomes it has access to. Apart from envisioning a partial commitment to hybridity, we can also imagine scenarios where “interspecifics” with a greater admixture of animal DNA may provide foreseeable benefits to society. In the context of the twenty-first century, humans can extend the definition of “environment” beyond Earth’s biosphere to encompass outer space (Ferrando 124-125). If we eventually come to realize our fullest potential by evolving into a space-faring race as Huxley suggests in “New Bottles for New Wine”, human-animal hybrids resilient to extreme environmental factors—such as cosmic radiation—may prove invaluable for spreading human civilizations across the universe. Therefore, to situate interspecific research in the transhumanist discussion, we should consider where the legal and ethical line should be drawn in relation to body modification or liberal eugenics. As Huxley argues, mankind is tasked with the obligation to “explore and map the whole realm of human possibility”— including possibilities that arise from tapping into the universal genetic code and hybridizing with other life forms. Although human beings in the present possess a limited understanding of bioengineering, future technologies may allow individuals safe access to desirable nonhuman traits that will recognizably alter their physical or mental processes on a genetic level. The burden then lies on contemporary society to determine if wellbeing or “fulfillment” achieved through artificial technological alterations to the human body are in ways inherently “better” or less objectionable than similar benefits derived from inserting traces of animal genes into our genome. 

Given that human-animal entities are widely regarded as social taboos in most cultures, some intrinsic and extrinsic arguments regarding the ethical nature of interspecific research must be addressed before a grounded argument in favor of hybrids can be established. The violation of the integrity of animal species and human dignity are related to concerns raised frequently in debates regarding interspecific research. In “Agency or Inevitability: Will Human Beings Control Their Technological Future?”, Fukuyama defines human essence as the summation of essential characteristics that give "humans, as opposed to non-human animals or inanimate natural objects, political rights” (161-162). According to bioconservatives like Fukuyama, exchanging DNA between human and animal species would not only undermine the morally relevant notion of personhood but threaten the genetic “intactness” of the animal as well. To understand why these arguments are problematic in posthuman debates, we can examine these terms in relation to the concept of biological species and personhood. First and foremost, we must question where the intrinsic value of the “integrity” of species lies. In other words: is it possible for species to remain genetically intact? The misconceived notion of “intactness” implies that species are stable or have an un-compromised state, whereas scientific theory shows species are constantly changing with or without human intervention. To dispute the notion of fixed species even further, it can be argued that our modern delineation of species, either by morphology or phylogenetics are anthropocentric—relying predominantly on humans to judge how much biological difference is sufficient to constitute separate “species”. A similar criticism can be applied to “human dignity”. “Human dignity” arguments draw from the value of concepts such as “worth” and “species identity” to render the creation of “interspecifics” inherently wrong. These stances fail to justify our historical understanding of personhood because they rely on intuitive reasoning. For the most part, policy-makers cannot measure “human essences”, nor can the law effectively communicate which “unalienable rights” humans are inherently entitled to without referencing some humanist standard. To understand the uncertainties associated with intuitive reasoning, consider an intelligent human-animal hybrid capable of moral and philosophical reasoning to a “recognizably human” extent and a man who is not capable of such. While modern societies could deny the hybrid basic human rights on the grounds that he/she/ they are insufficiently “human”, their actions would face severe ethical consequences. Therefore it may prove beneficial to revise the humanist connotations of “dignity” and “worth”, and consider these “essential characteristics” a distinctive combination of traits found in sentient beings rather than exclusively members of the human species. 

​Finally, it can be argued that since the 2010s, the public has arrived at the consensus that guidelines and supervision are necessary and crucial to interspecific research. Currently, the disagreement lies not within whether unethical experimentation should be permitted in the field of science or whether regulation of biotechnologies is mandatory, but where policy-makers should set such boundaries to avoid unnecessary “confusion” while mapping our possibilities. Admittedly, there are means through which interspecific research can be abused that yield serious moral implications. (For example, unrestrained experimentation may result in the institutionalized enslavement of hybrid races which societies may physically exploit.) However, this is not an objection against the ethical nature of human-animal hybrid creations, but society’s treatment of individuals lacking sufficient “humanness”. Before we deny interspecifics a place in society altogether, we must recognize that the discrimination against or “confusion” towards individuals we deem inadequately human stems from humanity relentlessly policing the line between humans and “nonhumans”, emphasizing their “inherent” differences and objectifying the latter. We can only anticipate future societies to broaden the definition of “human rights” and “human beings” to include human-animal hybrids with equal capabilities if we allow individuals to challenge the humanist notions ingrained in society, similar to how humanity has deconstructed concepts of race and gender in the modern era.

Context: Written in June 2020 in the US
Author: Francesca Ferrando

Being a scholar offers a great opportunity: to be an agent of social change and racial justice. Knowledge-production is one of the technologies through which social constructions and racial hierarchies are created and maintained. We, scholars, produce what is valued as scientific knowledge, which constitutes the basis for laws, civic norms and social evolutions; this is why we bear great responsibility. This is a time of deep social awareness, as demonstrations, protests and riots are calling for racial justice and social change. Black people have been systemically killed and brutalized; thousands of people are currently being arrested while bringing a clear message to all humankind: Black Lives Matter. Racism has been revealed in its ongoing brutality and historical pervasiveness, systemically institutionalized and ingrained in psychological, cultural, social and political norms. As scholars, we need to realize that our role is not neutral. We play a key role and we need to be fully aware of it.

A good scholar is someone honest with themselves and with the world around them. A good scholar is someone who can see what is happening and is able to say: this has to change, right now. Karl Marx said it clearly: "the philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point, however, is to change it" (Marx and Engels 1888; emphasis in original). Society trusts us to produce scientific knowledge in order to advance not only general welfare, but also a fair system of regulations and ethics. Still, academic productions often reflect the biases of their era; thus, it is not surprising that relevant minds of the past could also be racist and sexist, such as the case of Aristotle, according to whom women were inferior and slavery was a natural condition. Scholarly productions that are still tainted with racism, sexism and ethnocentrism, among other discriminatory frames, are becoming less dominant, thanks to the work of intellectuals who dare to challenge mainstream views. As the black feminists Akasha (Gloria T.) Hull, Patricia Bell Scott, and Barbara Smith render it: “all the women are white, all the blacks are men, but some of us are brave” (Hull et al. 1982). We need to be brave to change social, political and intellectual trajectories that are perceived as ‘normal’. How can we do this?

It is time to stop, take a pause and listen. It is time to rethink our habits as a species, and be aware of our biases, not only as individuals, but as a society. We, scholars, have a great responsibility. We cannot be silent and uncritical of white privilege and supremacist narratives: this kind of silence turns into complicity with conditions that are, in fact, infectious and life-threatening social disorders. From this lens, anti-black racism is, more clearly, an insidious culturally-learnt, systemically-induced, and historically-specific mental disease that needs to be addressed thoroughly and urgently, since it is undermining the existential dignity, safety and lives of black people, along with the general well being of the human species. As Martin Luther King, while jailed because of protesting racial discrimination in Birmingham (Alabama), evocatively said: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly” (1963). Racism has been historically sustained by systems of knowledge-production: this is why our role, as scholars, is crucial. We are now aware that words shape the world, and thus, an integral understanding of our world needs to shape our words. We bear great responsibility, and now that we know it, we can make a difference. Nothing is inevitable, and everything we promulgate through our writings and teachings will affect and effect the generative network of social and species interactions. 

​It is time to be agents of change. It is time to ask ourselves, in all sincerity: what kind of assumptions are we taking for granted in our research and in our life? Are we conscious of (macro- and micro-) dynamics of racial oppression? It is time that our scholarly efforts produce knowledge that is fully aware of the historical legacies of systemic racism by offering studies, researches, examples, visions, actions, ethical views and social norms that are based on pluralism, diversity and social equity; that emanate racial justice and dignity; that take into consideration the intra-relationality of existence; that are manifesting radical ontological healing. Only these steps will bring real change to us, as individuals, to society, and to our posthuman era. The time is now. We can do this together, because we are in this together. This is a call to posthuman scholars for social change and racial justice, right now, because Black Lives matter: to all of us. 

Context: Written during the COVID-19 pandemic
Style: Essayistic 
Author: Ye Hwa (Raina) Lee
Bio: Ye Hwa Lee is pursuing a major in economics at New York University. 

Plato’s Theory of Forms asserts all that is present in the physical realm is a shadow of its true essence and reality. Thus, in the subsequent decades following Plato’s discovery of his theory, philosophers, scientists, politicians, among many others, have been asking variants of the question: “What is the essence of mankind?” There have been a multitude of proposed theories. Some say mankind is the rational animal; some propose the essence of mankind is his or her eternal spirit. However, none of the propositions provided me with a satisfying answer, and I am beginning to realize that this may be because we have been asking the wrong question.

The idea of the principle of mankind has an anthropocentric connotation and therefore is flawed. One cannot separate the individual from the ingroup, society, ecosystem, or planet he or she exists in. For instance, the second wave of feminism introduced the argument that “the personal is political.” The quote stems from the idea that the experience one thinks is personal is in reality shared by many others. This is because the individual experience cannot be separated from larger social and political structures. In the same sense, the idea of mankind is a social construct based on a hierarchical categorization of species. For as long as we are human, we are biased in our perceptions of humankind. We think of ourselves as the positive that opposes the Other’s negative; in doing so, we illusion ourselves as deserving of power and control. In reality, Homo sapiens only comprise 0.01% of the planet’s biomass and their existence depends on their relationship with all life on Earth (Ritchie). This has become more evident than ever in the year 2020 as mankind strives to find ways humanity can co-exist with the COVID-19 virus. The existence of mankind is threaded and woven into Earth’s tapestry. Where does our identity start and where does it end? Perhaps the answer to that question is that there is no such thing as a beginning nor end to our identity; the borders we draw to separate us from them are ingrained, and we simply cannot think of ourselves separate from all life despite life’s multifarious manifestations. Hence, our existence is life. Therefore, the question we must ask ourselves is not: “What is the essence of mankind?” rather, we must ask: “What is the essence of life?” When examining Earth’s history, billions of species have emerged and gone extinct; if we put time into perspective, the length of time we, Homo sapiens, have been around is substantially minuscule. However, ever since the emergence of the first forms of life, life has never stopped living. The observable fact that life has never ceased is very telling when we examine the question: “What is the principle of life?” This is because perhaps the principle of life is life itself. Perhaps the essence of life is to ensure the continuation and sustainment of life.

When observing a colony of ants, many people may find themselves pitying the worker ant; the worker ants devote their entire work, resources, and life to the queen ant. It was later in life where I learned that this system among the ants exists because the queen ant is the only ant that can reproduce. Worker ants who cannot reproduce are an evolutionary dead end; the only way the individual ants can ensure the continuation of their species and therefore life is by devoting themselves to protecting the queen ant. This gives insight into the essence of life: there is a difference between life and survival. If the essence of life was survival rather than life itself, it would be detrimental to the species as individual ants forget they require the life of the queen as well as the lives of other worker ants to sustain their own life as well as their species’ life in the future.

Another example of the principle of life at work can be seen when we examine the cells that we are built out of. We, as multicellular organisms, are systems built upon systems, and the most fundamental blocks that make up our biological structures are our cells. The colonial theory of multicellular life suggests that multicellular organisms, as opposed to single-celled organisms, require an excessive amount of ATP to sustain itself and thus are energetically expensive (Baranski). Therefore, to sustain its existence, the survival mechanism of multicellular organisms was to invest in complexity by creating multiple layers of symbiotic relationships with other multicellular life (Baranski). For example, the cells that make up our nervous system depend on the cells that make up our lungs to provide oxygen, and the lungs depend on the nervous system to command it to breathe. However, as a trade-off of taking advantage of the emergent properties of multicellular traits, all multicellular life does not come without the probability of becoming cancerous. Cancer is when an individual cell forgets that they need to cooperate with other cells to sustain their own life. A cancerous cell only cares about its own survival and neglects the fact that its larger purpose is to sustain life, and therefore, the cancerous organism is basing its principles on survival rather than life. This is disastrous to not only the whole biosystem the cancerous cell interacts with but also to the cancerous cell itself. The notion of cancer sheds light on the fragility of life: the principle of life is life; however, our existence lies in the physical realm, and the physical realm is subject to flaws. If we, human beings, lose sight of life’s essence and forget the fact that our existence is dependent on all life both from the past, present, and future, we risk the destruction of all life including our own.

Today, more than ever, we ask, “How can we live alongside nature? How can we live alongside each other?” In an effort in answering these questions, perhaps we should look towards the principle of life. The principle of life is life, and life is living proof that unity exists among us just as much as diversity does. Life reminds us, “I exist because of the life that has existed before me.” Life reminds us, “My well-being is for the well-being of others because the well-being of others is the reason for my own well-being.” If each and every one of us comes to the understanding that we all have the duty to sustain and protect “life,” our collective respect for one another may one day achieve an equal and just society.

CRITICAL RACE AND THE POSTHUMAN
The Global Posthuman Network joins the worldwide demonstrations against systemic racism, police brutality, and all forms of racial injustice, past and present. We are inviting blog entries on the topic of critical race and the posthuman, to address specifically anti-black racism. ​Entries can be short and long; original images and video links are also welcome (see specificities in the Disclaimer on the right side of this page). Please send your entry at NYposthuman[at]gmail.com Thanks for making a change in this world!

Context: Recorded in May 2020 in Israel, during the (prolonged) lockdown due to the Covid-19 Emergency
Style: This Video is part of the Youtube Channel "Posthumans Go Viral".
Author: Carmel Vaisman
Bio: Carmel Vaisman is a Digital Culture Researcher and Lecturer at the multidisciplinary Program in the Humanities and the Cohn Institute for the History and Philosophy of Science and Ideas at Tel Aviv University.

Context: Written to reflect on a post-Coronavirus future
Style: Essayistic - Excerpt from the book, Brave New Human: Reflections on the Invisible, edited by Alexander Mouret 
Author: Mashya Boon
Bio: Mashya Boon is a Dutch international Ph.D. student in the department of English at Michigan State University, specializing in Film Studies. Her research interests lie at the intersection of film-philosophy, posthumanism, and the genres of SF and horror. 

In light of the global crisis caused by the Coronavirus, I think it is fruitful to reexamine our frames of reference concerning our notions of radical transformation as well as our perception on viruses. To help us reframe and perhaps even reinvigorate these concepts within these confusing times, I believe that one recent film can productively fracture conventional patterns of thought when it comes to reconfiguring our outlook on destruction and disease. The film in question envisions a life-altering alien force that crashed onto earth and devours the world as we knew it. While the title might suggest otherwise, Annihilation (Garland, 2018) is not about the nullification of life. Rather, it ferociously deals with a refractory re-creation of reality. 

The fashion in which Annihilation figures a novel kind of being human opens up avenues for exploring how ‘the posthuman’ is imagined within contemporary cinema while forwarding a salient stance about mutation and life. Posthuman literally means: an entity which is beyond the human as we know it. Posthuman theory in accordance generally questions the perception of human nature as universal and hegemonic, while overthrowing Enlightenment-legacies which ingrained a discourse of exceptionalism of the rational human subject into our society’s fabric of thought. This paper analyzes the ways in which Annihilation’s iridescent ‘Shimmer’ with its viral-like growths produces evocative instances of terrifying transformation, which seem painfully poignant in times of our current COVID-19 crisis. This film poses a philosophical thought-experiment by questioning “what counts as life?” By scrutinizing Annihilation’s viral tendrils in light of Karen Barad’s and Donna Haraway’s theories, this paper highlights how we might benefit from a transformation in anthropocentric thought. The film’s stance can be aligned with a new-materialist view of nature: a strange (re)turn to an otherworldly nature where the boundaries between technology and the organic are mixed on a cellular level, where hybridity and impurity prevail as the formerly discrete units of human life are scattered across a novel posthuman mosaic of convalescing mutation. 

“It wasn't destroying. It was changing everything. It was making something new.”
​
This line, uttered by protagonist Lena (Natalie Portman) in a final scene, explicitly verbalizes that Annihilation is not about absolute destruction. In this scene, a military official interrogates Lena, after returning from the Shimmer. This alien environment came into existence after a meteor crashed onto a lighthouse at the southern coastline of Florida. The Shimmer expanded exponentially, threatening to take over the entire globe. The ‘infected’ area which it spread to, is designated as ‘Area X’. The military took great precaution to prevent the general public from knowing about it. Still, the military can only guess as to what the Shimmer’s nature entails: a religious event, an extraterrestrial event, a higher dimension? They have many theories, but few facts. 

The entire environment within the Shimmer has gone berserk: different species of plants intermix their usually distinctive structures into one new conglomerate whole. Not only plant life took on this hybridizing quality; also fungal, animal and even human lifeforms are affected by the Shimmer’s transmutations which produce stunning new composites of life. Faun-like deer with bark-like antlers endowed with fluorescent flowers and prehistoric bear-like monsters with exposed craniums who adopt their victim’s last cry populate Area X. The way the Shimmer operates is explained halfway by expounding that magnetic forces within this zone literally refract all particles present in the environment. Not only light gets deformed into fantastical rainbow hues that seep into mother nature, but also all previously discrete units of DNA of various species are scattered and remixed into new syntheses by the Shimmer’s prism. All matter becomes susceptible to radical change within its ontological core. Humanoid shaped ‘plants’ and crystalline ‘trees’ only seem to be the beginning of this planetary metamorphosis. All living species are refashioned, immanently altering the traditional categories of what life on earth entails.

Tracing the etymology of the word ‘annihilation’, it is composed of two parts which in a contradictory sense annul each other while fortifying the word's meaning too. Annihilation in its primary definition indeed means “to reduce to utter ruin or nonexistence”: to annihilate is to reduce something into nothing. However, although the main component of the word consists of the Latin word ‘nihil’, which denotes ‘nothing’, the prefix ‘an-’ designates that the word behind it is not (or is without) the thing that is stated behind it. So in fact, ‘an-nihil-ation’, literally means ‘not nothing’. The word seen in this way rather encompasses a lacking of nonexistence. It connotes something that is without emptiness. Therefore, in its origins, the process of annihilation entails more ‘a becoming of something’ than ‘a reduction to nothing’. Aphoristically speaking, within the mechanisms of destruction resides the potential for unbridled creation itself; the making of something radically new. 

​Yet the common connotation of ‘annihilation’ does signify the state of being annihilated, the utter extinction of absolutely everything. This linguistic and philosophical paradox that underpins the word ‘annihilation’, also lies at the heart of the film’s core concept. Annihilation intricately conceptualizes a more-than-human, other-than-human, inhuman, posthuman state of existence which relentlessly refracts each and every aspect of life and calls into question what it means to be human or nonhuman, animate or inanimate, dead or alive. The film savagely systematizes an almost cancerous and even viral structure of being which exudes a towering form of growth and mutation of everything that is present or that has a presence in our earthly existence. Within the Shimmer, the undiscriminating force projecting out of the lighthouse encapsulates all life with its megalomanic metamorphosis. It is this kind of extreme presence of a lacking of nonexistence which annihilates the rational world and our human selves. Yet this an–nihil–ating force does not reduce reality to sheer nothingness, it in reality entails a radical state of being immanently without emptiness. 

​Mashya Boon

In modern society, we are incessantly inundated with stimuli. Text messages, emails, advertisements, news stories, push notifications, television, podcasts, social media, and radio are but some of the distractions to which we have grown accustomed. This leaves little room for stillness in one’s daily routine. In fact, it appears that humans, in the midst of modern technological stimulation, have developed something akin to a fear of stillness. 

During the COVID-19 pandemic, this fear of stillness and, more specifically, loneliness, has become more evident. As people are forced into social isolation, the pain of loneliness and boredom inevitably arise, necessitating a confrontation with stillness and the resulting discomfort. But why are we afraid of being alone with ourselves? Why must we seek constant stimulation and distraction as a form of “escape”?

This fear is indeed related to sitting alone with oneself. But meditation and stillness enable us to potentially look beyond the self. Much unhappiness and emotional distress can be attributed to an obsession with oneself. Humanity—myself included—is terribly egotistic. But by adopting methods to help us escape from a self-centered approach to life, we can learn to live happier, more fulfilling lives. Additionally, in doing so, we can improve the quality of life for other species, both plants and animals. Moving beyond a human-centered approach to life reflects posthuman philosophical beliefs, which discourage the strict, human-defined hierarchical designation of life on Earth, with humans conveniently placed at the top. 

Meditation and self-reflection may seem like indulgent practices, but they actually aid in emulating posthumanist values during one’s daily life. Mindfulness meditation allows one to examine their emotions and feelings in the present moment, allowing them to recognize what brings one joy, fear, or anxiety. 

On his Making Sense Podcast, Sam Harris recently interviewed Laurie Santos, a cognitive scientist and professor at Yale University. Santos focuses on the science of happiness, and talks about the power of mindfulness as it relates to living a fulfilling life. She admits that most people eventually grow bored of their routines and possessions, promoting the desire to constantly acquire more possessions or partake in novel thrills. But with mindfulness, one is able to find joy and gratitude in the present moment. By fully immersing oneself in the here and now, boredom is rendered inert, and the full experience of living can be completely appreciated—even amidst a pandemic. Stillness cultivates awareness, and awareness brings with it the possibility to live more fully and to understand ourselves more completely. This too reflects posthumanist values because by relishing the present, we more readily recognize the beauty in nature, for instance. With greater appreciation comes the desire to treat all forms of life with respect. Gratitude drives us to look beyond our own species and instead learn to live in a way that benefits all forms of life.

Sam Harris himself also stresses the importance of meditation. In recent episodes, he highlights this importance during such unprecedented times as these. Harris acknowledges that anxiety can indeed be useful, as it prompts us to take certain steps to protect ourselves, our loved ones, and others, but when the majority of our thoughts are consumed by anxiety, it ceases to be a viable tool, only adding unnecessary suffering. But when we are able to be still, Harris explains, and notice the thoughts that arise, we can make rational, healthy decisions in the midst of this anxiety. 

Peter Attia, a well-known and well-respected doctor with his own podcast, The Drive, has also articulated meditation’s effect on his mental health. He describes the practice as offering a pause between an initial thought or emotion and his response. During the COVID-19 pandemic, we are most certainly inundated with uncomfortable and anxiety-provoking thoughts. We may also be experiencing more tension and anger if we are quarantined with our families, or if we are searching for someone to blame for the mishandling of the situation. Meditation, as Attia and Harris explain, creates distance between these negative emotions and the responses we have to them. It allows us to choose how to react in a measured, non-impulsive way. With meditation, especially during these difficult times, we can cultivate greater self-awareness and use COVID-19 as a unique exercise in becoming more self-reflective and thus a more empathetic and helpful member of society.

If you feel moved to try meditation, below is a 10-minute guided session. Please enjoy! ​

​10-minute_guided_meditation_.m4a

"Gift" from the book “Sociology and Anthropology”, to define the forms of interchanges, exchanges, or relationships between Melanesian groups, approaching our time lived in our current cultures.

As Mauss reveals, “it is clear that, in Maori rights, the bond of right, bond of things, is a soul-bond, because the thing has a soul by itself, it is the soul. Meaning that “to present something to someone is to present something about yourself” (Mauss, 2003, p.200). These forms are included in what he calls “total prestation”: “The system that we propose to call the system of total prestation, from clan to clan - the one in which individuals and groups exchange everything between themselves - constitutes the oldest system of economy and law that we can observe and conceive. It forms the fund on which it stands out the morality of the gift-exchange” (Mauss, 2003, p. 299).

The term reciprocity seems to be in evidence in this period of the Corona Virus Pandemic, in the sense of solidarity between people, nature, art, science, and technology. At the same time, we experience the uncertainty of ideological truth (or truths), in the sense of reciprocity in different senses of communication between people. The understanding of what is presented in terms of the production of scientific knowledge in relation to the public that receives it is being evidenced from a virus, which, just as it is promoting many deaths, suffering, and uncertainties, is bringing scientific knowledge in medicine, sociology, statistics, public health, and technology closer in the common world. The news around the world emphasizes that the everyday world needs researched and analyzed information to learn or relearn how to live.

What we are currently living in is founded on the reciprocity of scientific knowledge production that, before this virus, seemed to live for itself and in itself, removing the knowledge of the other - Nature/Culture. This knowledge remained for the Academy (in this text I do not intend to go into the economic aspect involved in scientific research and its possible problems), and especially for the medical sciences, which are our total support to live with the Coronavirus. We realize this in the current situation in which we find ourselves: we need scientific knowledge and the reciprocal is unequivocal. Therefore, we have to ask ourselves, What is the sense of reciprocity between Nature/Culture and scientific knowledge for the production of post-human knowledge?

In the research with the Kaingang Indians in Brazil, already in progress, it was revealed to us that the democratic and shared form has provided an integration between the “subjects” of the research. The non-hierarchical dialogue, reflected among the group's participants, has expanded itself among the research participants in the needed time. It is important to emphasize that the opening to dialogue is also a learning process among the research subjects because, for the indigenous people, their voices have always been the last to be considered. The voices of researchers and teachers, for the indigenous subjects participating in the research, represented the decisive voice, not always open to dialogue, historically speaking.

Therefore, I consider it necessary to think about post-humanism from Braidotti (2013) and her view that post-humanism means thinking about community and the interconnections between ethics, people, and the environment. In other words, to be posthuman does not mean to be indifferent to humans, or to be dehumanized: “On the contrary, it rather implies a new way of combining ethical values with the well-being of an enlarged sense of community, which includes one’s territorial or environmental inter-connections” (Braidotti, 2013, p. 190). Furthermore, “Becoming-posthuman consequently is a process of redefining one’s sense of attachment and connection to a shared world, a territorial space - urban, social, psychic, ecological, planetary as it may be. It expresses multiple ecologies of belonging while it enacts the transformation of one’s sensorial and perceptual coordinates in order to acknowledge the collective nature and outward-bound direction of what we still call the self” (Braidotti, 2013, p.193)

I would like to expand the meaning, questioning the forms of reciprocity between Nature and Culture, which imply human, environment, science, technology, subjectivity (individual/conscious/unconscious/social/collective) and underline the collective aspect undertaken in the Shared Production of Knowledge (Bairon; Lazaneo; 2012). In the proposal of this methodology, subjects live together, donate knowledge to one another, and provide gifts, which I can call the joy of sharing, turning both the researcher into the subject and the subject into the researcher. It transforms the indigenous people since they perceive themselves as protagonists in their own culture when teaching the researcher to see and experience the indigenous cultural sense. Thus, the indigenous look does not need the researcher's filter; and, on the other hand, the researcher, using his tools of scientific knowledge, shows the possibilities of systematization and appropriation of traditional knowledge based on the actions of the indigenous people themselves, who are involved in this process of communication and sharing. In the moments shared on the Kaingang land in Palmas (PR), I understand the joy of this exchange of knowledge for the students and this researcher, without trying to explain this emotion scientifically. But I can connect this exchange from this experience with the indigenous people to the relationship that the philosopher Gadamer (1999) presents concerning the aesthetic experience the viewer undergoes when facing a piece of art: the joy of knowledge.

To what extent do we think of reciprocity in the production of knowledge, to go beyond Humanism?

In this sense, we are experiencing the concepts of the shared production of knowledge and post-humanist reflections, and, therefore, feeling, experiencing first-hand, that the dominant position of the white, European researcher - as cited by Braidotti (2013) and Ferrando (2012; 2016) - or the subject who has scientific knowledge - cited by Bairon (2019) and Lazaneo (2015) - is deeply rooted in the perception of the indigenous native. But I believe that it is possible to predict, with situated inclusivism (Ferrando, 2012), the opening of knowledge and revelations - reciprocity - in which we envision an experience between different cultures, between subjects that try to live according to “post” humanism.

Therefore, I propose thinking about scientific knowledge as a form of sharing, as a form of reciprocity between the ordinary world and the scientific world, providing such knowledge to the ordinary world, however, and acknowledging it. I believe it is a way of offering gifts, offering knowledge in a broad way to the built world and the given world, going beyond humanism and towards posthumanism.

Context: Recorded in May 2020 in Canada, during the (prolonged) lockdown due to the Covid-19 Emergency
Style: This Video is part of the Youtube Channel "Posthumans Go Viral".
Author: Christine Daigle, Director, Posthumanism Research Institute, Brock University

1. Luxurious Quarantine, Suffering Masses: Transhumanism as Oppressor and Liberator, in ‘Elysium’

IntroductionThe pandemic crisis of 2020 brings to mind multiple facets of the movie ‘Elysium’. Although the reviews of the movie were in the mid-range – neither gloriously celebratory nor atrociously bad – the present moment demands a relook at the multiple novel aspects of the future that the film imagined. For those who have not seen the film, or whose memory of it is hazy, let us start with a summary of the plot.

The Plot of Elysium

In the year 2154, planet Earth is nearly ruined and humanity is divided sharply – even more so than in 2020. The ultrarich live aboard a luxurious orbiting space station called Elysium, with amenities comparable to the most opulent gated communities of 2020. The vast majority, the rest, are reduced to a wretched humanity, living a hardscrabble existence in Earth's ruins.

The luxurious space station Elysium is technologically advanced. It has devices such as Med-Bays that can cure all diseases, reverse the aging process, and regenerate body parts. By contrast, the planet Earth, hundreds of miles below Elysium, is a writhing and smoldering cauldron of disease and deprivation. Suffering residents of planet Earth want Elysian technology to cure their illnesses. The curative-restorative technologies, however, are only available to citizens of Elysium. Jodie Foster, playing the role of Defense Secretary, the stern protector of the privileges of the residents of Elysium, takes all actions to guard the technologies of the space station, to preserve the pampered lifestyle of Elysium's citizens, and to prevent the leakage of the fantastic Elysian technologies to Earth.

Matt Damon, playing a brash character called Max, exposed to deadly massive radiation poisoning, and also moved by the disease and suffering of a friend’s daughter on Earth, agrees to undertake a dangerous mission that could access the medical technologies of Elysium and bring equality to the population of Earth. The mission is to jack into the central computer on Elysium, and reprogram it to recharacterize all the residents of Earth as citizens of Elysium.

There are many plot twists and turns, severe and savage battles, but ultimately Max manages to jack into the computer at Elysium, and reprograms it, even as this act kills him. The impact of reprogramming is instantaneous. The robotic entities, earlier used by their masters in Elysium to suppress and contain the population of Earth, now automatically turn into helpers and saviors of all – including residents of Earth, now granted Elysian citizenship and privileges. Hundreds of Med-Bays are dispatched to relieve the suffering on Earth.

Prescient Tropes?

We do not have to wait till 2154; many of the conditions of the movie Elysium started appearing in 2020, and accelerated suddenly with the appearance of the COVID-19 pandemic. While the luxurious space colony, separated and insulated from a wretched Earth, is still not a reality, major entrepreneurs such as Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos and Richard Branson are working with technologies and systems that would create such escape abodes in outer space. In the meanwhile, luxury quarantine in 2020 takes the forms of private planes, private or access-controlled islands, fantastically equipped and opulent survival bunkers, and more.

The Med-Bays are not here yet, but the medical-technological research frameworks for reversing aging, restoring lost senses and organs, rebuilding body parts, sentient prosthetics, and other steps toward – Singularity? Convergence? Tran-Posthumans? – are already in place. We can expect to see major acceleration in these.

The robotic police is not here yet, but a robotic dog is patrolling the parks in Singapore, warning folks to keep the 6-feet/2-meter distance from each other. And of course, drones that could kill and contain troublemakers are ready – used to combat terrorism so far, but fully capable of doing anything that they are commanded to do. More mundanely, hypersurveillance – so far used to nudge customers to buy promoted brands (except in China and a few places, where it also assigns social scores and categorizes people) – is evolving rapidly into ways to classify and trace individuals and their contact networks.

There are discussions afoot on developing privilege and certification cards of various kinds: cured, immune, asymptomatic, symptomatic, vulnerable, indispensable, super-privileged, essential-and-protection-worthy, essential-but-disposable, etc.

The big political-philosophical questions that are emerging are obvious: Will we move toward a world that has privileged Elysians, with fantastic technologies and massive robotic power, escaping from and seeking to keep under control the seething, suffering masses? Or, will brave heroes emerge to jack into cyber-networks of privilege, and push the buttons to declare all of us as card-carrying folks with equal access to curative, restorative, salubrious, caring, income-providing transhuman technologies?

2. Post-Pandemic: "Screen New Deal" instead of "Green New Deal"?
​
Editorial Comment:
The critique Naomi Klein offers is insightful. What is needed, to go beyond critique, are ways to bring the entire technology cycle, from creation to deployment, under democratic cooperative control. Naomi Klein hints at this... A lot of intense work is needed.

Link:
https://www.theguardian.com/news/2020/may/13/naomi-klein-how-big-tech-plans-to-profit-from-coronavirus-pandemic

Excerpts [of Naomi Klein essay]:
... pre-Covid, this precise app-driven, gig-fuelled future was being sold to us in the name of friction-free convenience and personalisation. But many of us had concerns... That was the ancient past, also known as February [2020]. Today, a great many of those well-founded concerns are being swept away by a tidal wave of panic, and this warmed-over dystopia is going through a rush-job rebranding. Now, against a harrowing backdrop of mass death, it is being sold to us on the dubious promise that these technologies are the only possible way to pandemic-proof our lives, the indispensable keys to keeping ourselves and our loved ones safe... At the heart of this vision is seamless integration of government with a handful of Silicon Valley giants – with public schools, hospitals, doctor’s offices, police and military all outsourcing (at a high cost) many of their core functions to private tech companies...
... we [are made to?] face real and hard choices between investing in humans and investing in technology. Because the brutal truth is that, as it stands, we are very unlikely to do both. The refusal to transfer anything like the needed resources to states and cities in successive federal bailouts means that the coronavirus health crisis is now slamming headlong into a manufactured austerity crisis. Public schools, universities, hospitals and transit are facing existential questions about their futures. If tech companies win their ferocious lobbying campaign for remote learning, telehealth, 5G and driverless vehicles – their Screen New Deal – there simply won’t be any money left over for urgent public priorities, never mind the Green New Deal that our planet urgently needs...
Tech provides us with powerful tools, but not every solution is technological. And the trouble with outsourcing key decisions about how to “reimagine” our states and cities to men such as Bill Gates and [Eric] Schmidt [ex-Google CEO] is that they have spent their lives demonstrating the belief that there is no problem that technology cannot fix.
For them, and many others in Silicon Valley, the pandemic is a golden opportunity to receive not just the gratitude, but the deference and power that they feel has been unjustly denied.
**********

Context: Recorded in 2020 in Canada, during the outbreak of the Coronavirus
Style: Video
Author: Dominique Leclerc

​Cytokine Storm

Treacherous flesh, cytokine flood,
I’d prefer to be a brain in a metal box,
Than choking on my defector blood.
How can you still defend the unity
Between the body and the mind?
Still believe in the system of immunity?
This fragile construct with all the stability
Of a homemade bomb, always ticking
And shuddering, with the possibility
Of imminent self-destruct, from a trace
Of inanimate proteins and basic code,
With somehow absolute power to erase,
Consciousness itself, most complex device,
By turning our flesh antagonist unto itself,
A substrate so unpredictable, imprecise.
You may find freedom in this fragility,
But for me this uncertainty is no liberation,
I will choose a vessel programmed with stability,
A synthetic fortress to shield my precious mind,
Under microscopic tyranny I will not be confined.