Author: Cosetta Veronese. Cosetta owns a PhD in English literature from the University of Venice and in Italian Studies from the University of Birmingham. She worked as a researcher and lecturer in the UK and Switzerland and devoted herself extensively to the poetry and thought of Giacomo Leopardi. She now collaborates with Prof. Roberto Marchesini, the Centro Studi Filosofia Postumanista and the publisher wortesekundant. She has a diploma as a dog educator (educatore cinofilo) from SIUA, she is a member of the editorial committee of the journal Animal Studies and President of the International Society of Zooanthropology. ​

Link to the book: HERE

***

Simply beautiful. There is no better blurb to describe Manuela Macelloni’s latest book. In its pages, post-humanist philosophy becomes autobiography, the story of a life, of the relationships with the world that, in their kaleidoscopic becoming, have shaped the author – both in her body and mind. Because, as she repeatedly observes, the body’s claims and reasons, its needs, fragility, but above all its emotions and desires are as post-human as can be. This is the reason why dogs, social animals par excellence, can, if we let them, offer a helping paw. Their brimming, bubbling, brisk and free sociality is something that we, techno sapiens, have long forgotten. Dogs can save us, the author argues. They are the gaze into which we can dive and rediscover our shipwrecked identity: our animal identity and therefore our eco-ontological belonging. 
Macelloni reminds us that philosophy is not about finding answers, but about asking the right questions, the questions that guide our existence. Hence, with that lightness of style that Calvino recommended in his Six Memos for the next Millenium, Manuela Macelloni peruses the history of Western philosophy from Plato to Derrida urged by the question: “Who am I?”. Post-humanism has dismantled the idea of a human essence. Similarly, the finalistic view of evolution, which continued to dominate philosophical anthropology even after Darwin, knuckled under. By stepping into this revolutionary path, Macelloni uproots several myths of Western philosophy and regrafts them onto the thought of Roberto Marchesini. 

She begins with the myth of Prometheus and Epimetheus in Plato’s Protagoras. Bestowed with the task of distributing natural talents among earthly creatures, Epimetheus fulfils his duty but forgets about humankind. His brother Prometheus offers help by stealing fire from the gods and gifting it to humans. Naked but ingenious and free, the human can now use Prometheus’ fire, a metaphor of technology, to spread and dominate the world. The animal, equipped by Epimetheus, is in need of nothing; yet, it is condemned to the prison of instinctuality. We are at the roots of anthropocentrism.

While re-reading this myth, Macelloni reflects on one key element: Epimetheus is not just the short-sighted Titan that the anthropocentric tradition has passed onto us. The task of distributing talents to earthly animals is something he is committed to. He fulfils his duty with care and dedication, devoting time and love to it, making sure that resources are distributed with equanimity and balance, so that life is ensured for all the world’s creatures. Epimetheus’ care for non-human animals is a necessary element for the emergence of humans. It is by observing the work of Epimetheus, rather than stepping away from him, that Prometheus can save us. Without Epimetheus, Prometheus cannot operate; becoming human cannot happen without the becoming animal. 
Just as post-humanist philosophy has debunked the human-animal dualism, the names of the two Titan brothers – afterthought and forethought – have a challenging meaning. They become a metaphor of evolution – not of human evolution, but of animal evolution, an evolution that encompasses humans. Evolving and moving forward means diving into the world motivated by desire. But the desiring drive drags its own past along, that phylogenetic inheritance that Roberto Marchesini calls “having-been-there-before”. This is true for all living creatures. The ebb and flow of the tide, the criss-cross of gazes between Prometheus, who anticipates, and Epimetheus, who realizes belatedly, characterises the entire course of life, both of species and individuals. It is also the Leitmotif that ties together the pages of Macelloni’s book. Unlike Heidegger, for whom the human was ‘thrown’ into the world, Macelloni believes that life is always ‘back to the future’, a return and a projection. Like the creatures of Epimetheus, we too are born already equipped, because the relationships that preceded us and pushed us along the tree of life have shaped us. Our past relationships have made us more and more capable of weaving new, unanticipated bonds, as our encounter with the wolf testifies.

Some palaeontological findings suggest that this must have happened during the Palaeolithic period, at least 30,000 years ago. Because of its chronological remoteness, our relationship with the wolf and proto-dog cannot be related to the intentionality and control inherent in the word ‘domestication’. The latter process started in the Neolithic. It refers to the subjugation and enclosure of other species within domesticated areas, at a time when nomadism waned and the first settlements began. Accordingly, Macelloni believes that we can legitimise the term ‘wolf domestication’ only if we acknowledge a parallel ‘human domestication’. All the more so, if we consider that the circumstances that have likely contributed to the development of the neocortex and eventually led to the emergence of homo sapiens, followed our encounter with wolves and proto-dogs. Relieved from the need to defend themselves against predators, hominids could sleep deeper and more peaceful sleeps facilitating those neuronal activities that boosted cognitive capacities. It is therefore difficult to talk about the evolution of the dog without also talking about the evolution of the human. In essence, humans and dogs have co-evolved.

That is why, as the book’s subtitle suggests, the footprints that chart the post-human path are paws and feet together. The author, who, moreover, cleverly describes some human behaviours by referring to parameters also used in dog training (explorative, competitive, territorial and possessive motivations, p. 201), reminds us that we must learn to listen to the dog again, to grant him back the gaze that over two thousand years of logocentric tradition and consolidated humanist culture took away from him. Like Prometheus, we must return to Epimetheus, because, before we can move forward, we must recognise who we are. Returning to Epimetheus means rediscovering our animal condition, experiencing our body, celebrating our emotions. It means making peace with our condition of specialised rather than special beings. And it means above all that, like all other animals, we are driven by emotions. 

Zia Winky was a white, small but strong and mighty West Highland Terrier and Manuela’s companion for fourteen years. It was thanks to this dog that the author vigorously shifted philosophical thought from the pages of books to her everyday life. By imposing her gaze on Manuela, Zia Winky also forced on her the vital question: "Who am I?". Driven by the wisdom of affectivity, she taught Manuela that emotions have a cognitive value. She would spontaneously and whimsically surf the waves of her desires, waves that, by breaking on the world, could also grasp its unpredictable opportunities. Zia Winky was to Manuela like the slave who broke free from the chains in Plato’s myth of the cave. Having discovered that the world that was known to him was merely the projection of the shadows produced by the fire burning behind his shoulders, he felt compelled to return to the cave and free his fellow prisoners. Yet he knew that he risked being mocked and killed by them. 
Notwithstanding the risks, the freed slave wants to return to liberate the others and offer them the opportunity to really live their lives. For to live means to find sense in the secret of life. Macelloni notes that the concepts of sense and secret are very tightly bound together: they can retain their meaning only if untold. Significantly the dog, but, in general, all animals, become guardians of the sense of life because they are the sole ones who can truly keep its secret. Not because they cannot speak, though, but because they are immersed in affectivity, that emotional and bodily dimension that expresses itself through what Macelloni names ‘care’ and ‘spontaneous gesture’. The rereading of Plato’s myth of the cave in the book kindles a reflection that, as we shall see in the following paragraphs, simultaneously subverts several ideas: the idea of the human as the shepherd of being; of the animal as being, in Heideggerian terms, ‘poor in world’ and of the animal as an object, rather than a subject, of observation. It also subverts the meaning of Ulysses’ homecoming, the value of nihilism and the principle of non-contradiction.

Heidegger calls the human the “shepherd of being” because it is endowed with language. Yet, as the author sharply remarks, “not having words does not mean being deprived of language” [“non avere parola non significa essere privi di linguaggio”] (p. 35). Moreover, in today’s world, even words are fading under the glare of images. Flooded, drenched and intoxicated by our own tautological self-celebration, which is enacted via selfies, social networks and web pages, we cannot look at others, if they do not mirror ourselves. We have no interest in a world that does not confirm our own solipsistic identity. Rather than non-humans, we are the ones who are ‘poor in world’, the author rightly observes. In fact, we have tried to drag animals along with us down into a delirium of replicating units, which all look alike. We have done this with our frenzy for breeds, aesthetic standards and exhibitions. We have tried to turn dogs into accessories too, to make them ‘companion’ animals, ‘pets’. As if emotions and affectivity were things that can be bought at the supermarket. 

In truth, by constraining the planet’s each and every element to the logic of money, we have tried to transform it into a supermarket. Even the concept of sustainability is not sustainable, since it concerns the interests of one species only, humans, rather than being about the entire ecological system of which the human is only just a small part. If we want to do something to help what the beautiful film of Emanuele Caruso calls The Good Ground [La terra buona], we must watch and follow the commitment and care Epimetheus devotes to his work. We must return to him, to his love for balance, to the consideration he shows in distributing resources that may ensure the protection of all creatures. Once again, as Macelloni reminds us, the dog is our teacher. For s/he asks him/herself: “What can I do in order to best help my pack?” [“cosa posso fare io di buono per questo branco?”] (p. 134).

So the animal’s gaze will be all the more severe, when it reminds us that we are naked. This is the experience that Jacques Derrida made when, one day, getting out of the shower, he was caught naked by his cat who was watching his nudity, just to see. The gaze of Derrida’s cat is not the top-down gaze of the creator, as the Bible would have it. It is a gaze that brings the human back to a horizontal dimension of creature among creatures, made of body, spontaneity and affectivity. The animal who watches you, rather than who is just being watched, is an animal that can die. It is not an animal who simply ceases to live, as Heidegger assumed. It is at this point in the book that the powerful and touching reflection upon the relationship between life and death starts, a reflection to which the last part of Macelloni’s work is dedicated. It is also an elegy in memory of Zia Winky, who died of a pituitary tumour just over a year before the book’s publication.

Like our animal condition, death is also a condition we censored for millennia. It is something that decentralises and therefore frightens us. Significantly, in its delirium about mind downloading and eternal life, transhumanism is an attempt to censor death. And it is therefore also an endeavour to negate our emotional dimension, which is what death ultimately comes to. A dead body can be seen, perceived and felt; the death of the other, whether human or non-human, is specific. And this is indeed the way in which Manuela Macelloni describes it: through her own experience, her own bereavement, the loss of Zia Winky – how she along with her other dog Emma lived through it. But in order to talk about this specific death, she also draws of yet another myth: Ulysses’ return to Ithaca.

Since he is disguised as a beggar, Ulysses is not recognised by anybody but his forsaken and dying dog Argos, who has waited twenty years for the return of his old hunting mate. No words, an act: the gaze. Argo and Ulysses look at each other and recognise each other. The meeting of their gazes, however, is not about death, as in Pavese’s words, but about the becoming of life, part of which entails the crossing of death. When he sees Ulysses, old Argo drops his ears, wags his tail and can eventually die, because the final reunion with his ancient hunting pall gives him back his identity. On seeing Argo, Ulysses sheds a tear and finds himself again: because he recognises himself in him, he is ready to become the Prince of Ithaca again. The future of Prometheus who watches Epimetheus, and of the slave who returns to the cave, is a promise of both freedom and death. 

But how can we be or discover ourselves in death? This is a complex reflection that enables the author also to reinterpret the concept of nihilism. Death’s image are the eyes that can no longer see. Death is the non-existence of the beholder as well as of the beheld. Death means to no longer be there in the eyes of the other. Paradoxically, however, non-being in death is something tremendously physical, something concrete, material and definite. Death is body. It is a motionless, inert and heavy body. Death is the body that in the Western philosophical tradition has always been the opposite of human res cogitans. It is a body which, only through death, we discover as being actually res estensa, animality. Descartes’ prospective error is thus exposed. It smashes us to the ground, next to, and not above, the billions of creatures that we have not only brought to extinction, but also continue to exterminate in the eternal Treblinka of intensive farming and slaughterhouses. We pretend that they only cease to live, because it would be too inconvenient to acknowledge that they can actually watch us. 

But Macelloni’s reflection leads us to yet another discovery: that death is as relational as life; it is a predicate of life. Death discloses itself in a body that is dead; yet it also inhabits us, because we know that we will die. We are affectively inhabited by death, because death frightens us, and we all ¬try to escape it – both humans and non-humans. “To know that we can die is probably our most basic awareness” [“Il sapere di poter morire è probabilmente la consapevolezza più basica in assoluto”] (p. 157). It is a knowledge that all animals share. This is why a gazelle flees a lion. And it is also the reason that makes it absurd to argue that animals ‘cannot die’ but only ‘cease to live’.

Ultimately, death configures itself like all other relationships: something both inside and outside us. Death is an oxymoron; it is immutable change. It is rupture, exit, immobility and impossibility, but it is also part of our becoming; we carry it within. For we are part of an indefinite. We are also us, but not only us. We are not only “individual and specific” [“individuati e specifici”] (p. 166), but we are also that, i.e., one of multiple life layers. Non-being is not only who dies, but also who, by continuing to live, disappears to the eyes of whoever ceases to see. The gazes that, like Argo’s and Zia Winky’s, cease to see reveal that we can cease to be seen. They tell us how transient our being is, how ephemeral the condition of our cherished individuality. The gaze that ceases to see tells us that we are as much immersed in life as we are in death, that being and non-being are intertwined.

The implications are manifold. Just as non-being means discovering that we are in being even when, by overcoming our individual identity, we realise that we are part of a whole, immersed in being is also whoever, human or non-human, is a non-being to us, because, by refusing to look at him/her, s/he cannot return the gaze. We refuse to see and do not allow ourselves to be seen. Our world is full of presences in front of which we turn away our gaze: from the animals we continue to feed on, to the humans we prefer to ignore, because we do not have the guts to imagine that, to paraphrase a well-known song by Umberto Tozzi, ‘the others could be us’ [“gli altri siamo noi”].

Manuela Macelloni’s reflection on nihilism breaks the principle of non-contradiction: being and non-being can simultaneously coexist. As living individuals, we are part of both: our being in time makes us continually slip into non-being.  Encounters begin and end; loves follow one another; the others, both humans and non-humans, cease to see us. All of this is a continuous reminder that we are relationships, and that relationships change – themselves and us. This is true not only for all the relationships that engage us during that fractal of specific time that brackets our individual lives, but for the life that continues beyond us. We belong to nihilism; we are in it, Macelloni observes. But we should not be afraid.
The post-humanist future that we, along with Manuela Macelloni, wish for ourselves consists of animality, corporeity, affectivity, relationship, contamination and compromise (some of the book’s key words). Since time becomes the space where life incessantly unfolds, as time and space overlap, the concept of human time itself withers. Moving forward in order to return, ebb and flow, Prometheus and Epimetheus. All the things that we can learn from dogs, such as care, spontaneous gesture and affectivity, are what can actually save us. 

La filosofia del cane flows like life and carries us along. I have only just sketched a few of its many extraordinarily thought-provoking reflections. Manuela Macelloni’s is a totally original, lively, courageous and dissonant voice – as dissonant as the dog is in our anthropopoietic construction. We did not shape dogs like we did other non-human animals. We co-evolved with them. This book has a lot to say about this and much more. It is difficult to write a review that may do justice to it. It needs to be read.

Author: Manuela Macelloni
Link to the book: HERE

One of the most important issues addressed by Roberto Marchesini in recent years has undoubtedly been ‘subjectivity’. In fact, in his book Post-human (2002), the philosopher pointed out that one of the matters that most undermines the structure of Western philosophy is the question of the subject. Marchesini notes that subjectivity cannot be limited tohuman animals, as already claimed by other philosophers; however, the innovative aspect of his thought lies in the ideathat a solution to this problem does not regard extending qualities – such as consciousness, reason, and thought –to other species, but rather changing the very traditional paradigm of subjectivity. 

In Etologia filosofica (2016), Marchesini investigates the traditional descriptive models of subjectivity, proposing an alternative that can help us understand how the concepts of consciousness, reason, and cogito are only components of subjectivity, and that they cannot fully determine it. This insight, therefore, forces us to think of the subject in entirely new terms while obliging us to ground subjectivity itself on other paradigms. 

In The Creative Animal Roberto Marchesini takes this effort to the extreme. Marchesini emphasises that the subject operates in the world in an active manner. The first of the several attributes of subjectivity discussed in the book isagency: a subject, being able to perceive the world, acts on it on the basis of its own perceptions. Along this line,subjectivity is not a monolith, but rather an active element that dialogues with and through reality. Each subject has a specific perspective on the external world that takes shape in the dialectic between feeling and acting. Subjectivity is never something (pre-)determined: it is autopoiesis and sympoiesis, intersecting in a constant and never quite definitive manners. It is impossible to give an absolute definition of subjectivity, since it is exposed to constant reprogramming and change due to its incessant dialogue with the world. 

This type of reading takes up what in Etologia filosofica Marchesini defined as the “subject’s ownership” – the subject’s intrinsic ability to come up with its own plan of action, a project linked to its specific sensibility towards reality. For this reason, being a subject means, this ability occurs by negotiating the status quo, envisioning possible alternative paths and, therefore, prefiguring a future that transcends simple existence at the mercy of the here and now. Thus, every subject is first and foremost a creative and creating power – the text shows frequent comparisons with Bergson’s thought  – that determines a protagonism capable of defining, but never delimiting, the concept of subjectivity. 

That of agency is thus the first level of subjectivity around which other elements are assembled: one of these is affectivity. Hence the subject can be conceived as desiring motions and emotions: it is from these desires that the expression of a for-Self (second level of subjectivity) takes place. What Marchesini means when he speaks of “desiring drive” is crucial, since, with this expression, he is able to combine both his scientific knowledge and a renewed reading of the concept of desire in the philosophical sphere. In this regard, it is useful to mention that Marchesini is not only a philosopher but also an ethologist with an in-depth specialisation in entomology: this expertise constantly resurfaces in the text through examples and references to non-human species and insects. Desire propels the subject into the world and drives it according to very precise coordinates linked to its history as a species, which Marchesini defines as ‘Having-already-been-there’. This concept is fundamental because it highlights the phylogenetic history that inhabits each individual, which always finds in the world what it already 'knows' in order to then discover new elements. 

Taking up Lorenz’s lesson that a priori characteristics are phylogenetically a posteriori, Marchesini observes that each individual subject triggers a conversation with the world, which is not based on a tabula rasa and, therefore, that followsprecise coordinates dictated by the subject’s phylogeny. The latter, instead, must be understood as the capacity to interpret, in a renewed way, what history has imprinted on – and somatised in – an individual, thus enabling the creative activity that generates the wonder of living. Therefore, having-already-been-there does not just express the past of an individual, but also it delivers an individual to future projects linked to the creative capacity of each subject. 

Animal creativity is thus a gift of inventiveness and adaptation that is necessary for the realisation of a species-specific behavioural repertoire. In this sense, phylogeny does not nail the subject to pre-established behaviours, for it becomes a place of creative interpretation, a corollary of infinite possibilities that can unfold in multiple forms. In this sense, the idea of desire also changes its structure: it no longer aligns to Plato's leaky jar as a void that must forever be filled, but rather as surplus – a driving urge and attraction towards reality with a view to self-expression. It calls for the realisation of a for-Self that speaks of Having-already-been-there and Being-there in the light of wonder and creativity.

In these terms, Marchesini strongly rejects two theses connected to Heidegger’s thought. The first concerns the concept of animality: no animal can be captivated and nailed to its instincts, as it is always the bearer of a for-Self and, therefore,of a desiring and creative action in the world. The second is the concept of ‘thrownness’: no animal, including man, is thrown into a reality that it does not recognise (this is a vision that still has a strong humanist/Cartesian aftertaste). Rather, every being comes into the world with precise coordinates in order to interweave a specific, but always creative,dialogue with reality. This is precisely what Marchesini means when he asserts that being interested is both a rediscovery and a discovery.
 
The presence of an intrinsic level of subjectivity is what allows the creation of an in-Self (third level of subjectivity) and, therefore, contents of cognition such as knowledge, elaboration and consciousness. In this reworking of the concept of subjectivity, Marchesini does not emphasise hierarchy, but rather he focuses on how different planes integrate with each other and can be more or less present. The philosopher's discussion on consciousness is very interesting. In fact, much of the philosophical tradition has grounded the very possibility of subjectivity on it, leading some thinkers to seek to establish what animals might be endowed with it: here, too, Marchesini overturns the traditional perspective on consciousness. It does not ground subjectivity because even the human being, who has always been considered the subject par excellence, performs many actions without any degree of consciousness. Therefore, consciousness may or may not arise, but it does not, in any way, determine the presence or absence of a subject. The examples that Marchesini discusses are many, but the one I find most clarificatory is the act of sleeping, which, in fact, is a state in which we are not conscious: in this regard, Marchesini ironically asks whether we stop being subjects when we are asleep.

According to Marchesini, consciousness is like a light that has the power to illuminate a room in which, however, objects are already present. The mind, appointed as the fourth level of subjectivity, can be understood as the unitary condition arising from an integration of different components. The mind is a property that allows the individual to have a unitary experience, i.e. an integrated convergence of states and functions, which is why it is referred to as an ‘emergent requirement’: it is a state condition rather than a function and, therefore, it contributes to the subject’s unitary positionality and propositionality. 

The mind has both an integrative and a productive character; to give an example: the mind is like a recipe without which the various ingredients (integrative character) could never become a cake (productive character). For this reason, we should not imagine subjectivity as a single condition bound to all-or-nothing values, but rather in terms of mutually integrating dimensions that may be present to a greater or lesser extent in a species (which, however, neither exclude each other, nor confer hierarchies of subjectivity on different animals): to simplify, no animal is ‘more of a subject’ than another.  

The Creative Animal does not only offer a fierce reflection on the concept of subjectivity, but also it thematises further questions: among these are that of learning and intelligence, re-evaluating theories linked to the relationship between environment and subject (niche theory), delving into the issue of animal culture. Anyway, the central argument of the book remains the radical reinterpretation of the concept of subject. The last chapter of the volume highlights how, according to Marchesini, even the philosophical tradition that apparently supported animality – and Derrida in particular – failed to break the disjunctive ontological chains that had always opposed human and animal beings.

The paradigmatic shift offered by The Creative Animal is necessary not only to recompose the animal other within the ontological horizon of homo sapiens, but also to acknowledge its subjective dimension, thus freeing it from the shackles of humanist objectification. To be an agent – and a subject – means to be a protagonist and, therefore, to be “a fish [that] goes against the current, an antelope [that] can jump over an obstacle, a bird [that] can fly and not fall like a stone to the ground”, as Marchesini writes. 

Reading this book, you will certainly find many answers to questions that this review, due to its constraints, cannot address. The examples that Marchesini provides are fascinating, considering his capacity to show how subjectivity can in fact be extended to every form of life, even to those that we have traditionally excluded. Moreover, the many references, sources and citations included the book make it a seminal work on the question of animal subjectivity.        

The paradigm of the subject proposed in The Creative Animal perfectly fits into the interpretative model of posthumanism, rejecting every verticalist matrix and fully embracing a horizontal perspective, with a descriptive rather than a prescriptive approach. I believe, in fact, that the most important achievement of The Creative Animal consists of disengaging the concept of subject from any essentialist – and therefore humanist – component: according toMarchesini, the animal is creative in that all subjectivity is given as an act of creation. There is no such thing as a subject per se, but only a peripatetic being that, in its journey through the world and the evolution of life, has modified its trajectories, has coordinated them with its history, and has made itself part of and available to constant construction, in the name of difference and creativity.

No animal, in the course of its evolutionary history, has remained captivated in its Having-already-been-there. An animalalways grounds its identity through its own coordinates, challenging them and betraying them to act as the protagonist of its own script, to make space for itself on the stage of the world by enacting its personal and subjective story. This is how identity and subjectivity meet, as each and every subject grounds its coordinates on an agency dimension linked to its own desires and emotions, and to the awareness that it will not remain nailed to a sterile individualism, but rather that it will be able to create a dialogue with the history of life. 

The posthuman community continues to grow, and we are endlessly grateful to welcome Coco Nova Estèle Schätzke, a Communication Design student at the University of Applied Sciences in Berlin, to our team. 

Coco is also a talented graphic artist and has created a beautiful project to help visualize posthumanism’s three central pillars: Post-Humanism, Post-Anthropocentrism, and Post-Dualism. 

Through their designs, Coco hopes to “encourage people who discover them to make further research and inspire them to rethink their habits.” 

Coco welcomes you to download these symbols, for free, here.

As Coco writes, “This will be the beginning of a creative, international philosophically active network.”

Posthumanism defies boundaries and seeks to blur and eventually transcend the rigid demarcations that have contributed to inter- and intra-special alienation. Multimedia awareness is one effective way to continue this mission.

Thank you again to Coco for their work. We are so grateful for their talent and to be able to share it with this community.

“Change the world,” Coco writes. “Today, for tomorrow. For the future.” 

Author: Stefan Lorenz Sorgner
Publisher: Bristol University Press
Link: https://bristoluniversitypress.co.uk/we-have-always-been-cyborgs

BLURB
The concept of transhumanism emerged in the middle of the 20th century, and has influenced discussions around AI, brain–computer interfaces, genetic technologies and life extension. Despite its enduring influence in the public imagination, a fully developed philosophy of transhumanism has not yet been presented.
​
In this new book, leading philosopher Stefan Lorenz Sorgner explores the critical issues that link transhumanism with digitalization, gene technologies and ethics. He examines the history and meaning of transhumanism and asks bold questions about human perfection, cyborgs, genetically enhanced entities, and uploaded minds.
Offering insightful reflections on values, norms and utopia, this will be an important guide for readers interested in contemporary digital culture, gene ethics, and policy making.

VIDEO

Francesca Ferrando’s Philosophical Posthumanism is a wide-ranging book that introduces the foundations for a change of human self-conception in our times. As such it touches on history, epistemology, ontology and praxis. It marshals a vast web of interrelated ideas and thinkers that illumine the field from many directions. My approach in this discussion considers three important chapters in the book, “Technologies of the Self as Posthumanist (Re)Sources,” “Posthumanist Perspectivism,” and “Antihumanism and the Ubermensch.” The two thinkers who these chapters principally address are Friedrich Nietzsche and Michel Foucault. The chapter on Technologies of the Self looks at the colonized “others” of the West and by extension at postcolonial subalterns and non-human others. These peripheries and outsides problematize the hegemonic humanism of modernity by their ex-centric forms of self-making based on alternative cultural histories resistant to the norms of modern humanism. As examples, Ferrando refers to oral histories, folk art, performance practice and spiritual praxis. Ferrando describes spirituality as “the tendency to conceive existence more extensively than the ordinary perception of individual beings.” She contrasts it with religion, which she sees as “characterized by a set of principles (dogmas), which defines its specificities… and empirically sustained by hierarchical structures based on acquired knowledges, needed in order to preserve those teachings through historical changes.” In the chapter on Posthumanist Perspectivism, Ferrando challenges the definition of epistemology as a seeking for universal and absolute knowledge in favor of a plurally interpreted view of reality based on the philosophical vision of Friedrich Nietzsche. As an example from a non-Western traditional source, she offers the Jain philosophy of anekantavada, which extends a fundamental compassion to all beings based on their right to difference. Such a difference is not merely a difference of opinion or knowledge but a difference in the mode of embodiment and a difference in the trajectory of becoming, which leads to its own kind of knowledge.

This brings us to the question of the will to power, also dealt with by Ferrando in this chapter. Ferrando invokes Karen Barad in this regard who speaks of a fundamental agential ontology that is omnipresent from the quantum level to the most complex organisms and organizations. In Nietzsche’s case, the will to power is also related to the Ubermensch or Overhuman, the power over oneself leading to a posthuman destining. In the chapter on Antihumanism and the Ubermensch, Ferrando introduces this lineage of the posthuman, but eventually rejects Nietzsche’s Ubermensch on the ground that he premises it on a derogatory supercession of the “brute” or animal. Rather, following Rosi Braidotti’s adaptation of Deleuze and Guattari, Ferrando sees the will to power and posthuman perspectivism in terms of a refusal of essentialism and an inter-species transversal bonding, which may be called nomadic. Adapting the language of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, we may call this individuation as relational cosmogenesis.

All these related ideas bring up the Indian field of spiritual praxis known as yoga. The term yoga has today entered the English lexicon, but like the term avatar and many others, this entry is a hegemonic appropriation and not an engagement. In India itself, yoga has plural meanings spread over a field that may best be characterized as technologies of becoming. This can be assimilated to Nietzsche’s will to power as self-exceeding and to an embodied and existential posthuman perspectivism. Ferrando’s discussion in this chapter could have been enhanced by this consideration.

Karl Jaspers, in his astute short introduction to the Buddha in his Great Philosophers series, Volume 1, draws attention to the difference between the place of thought in western philosophy and in yoga. Referring to the Buddha, but in a manner common to the field of yoga, he says:

Logical ideas create space by freeing us from our bonds with the finite. But it is only by meditation that truths are reinforced and established, that full certainty is attained. It cannot be said that one is primary, the other a mere consequence. One is, rather, the confirmation and guarantee of the other. Each in its own way prepares us for the truth…. In speculation, meditation and ethos alike, it is the human will that sets the goal and attains it… That is why Buddha is forever calling for an effort of the will. All a man’s powers must be engaged.

He concludes his introduction by drawing a central lesson from the Buddha’s life. He says, “It points to the questionable essence of man. A man is not what he just happens to be; he is open. For him there is no one correct solution.”

It is clear from these quotes that, as with Nietzsche, Bergson or Deleuze, Jaspers sees the place of thought not as a faculty for establishing a static and absolute Truth but as a servant of the will which is central to life seen as a problem of becoming. It is also important to note from these remarkable passages how close Jasper’s depiction of the Buddha is to what Ferrando would, I feel, equate to posthuman perspectivism.
Returning to technologies of the self, seen as a response to the hegemony of normative humanism, it may be of interest to note that what is called yoga in the West today, a regime of physical posture and breathing at the service of the fitness industry and stress-free capitalism, took its rebirth in modern times as a technology of anticolonial biopolitical resistance in India. Further, when Vivekananda introduced “yoga” in his lectures at the Parliament of World Religions at the turn of the 19th/20th c., it is exactly as an alternative and plural telos of human becoming to the static image of the human, and of human becoming as the acquisition of absolute knowledge and cosmic control which characterizes modernity. One can read this too as a form of anticolonial resistance, of an epistemological revolution in alignment with Nietzsche’s and Jasper’s existentialism and contemporary philosophical posthumanism.

This revisionary view, both of epistemology and of yoga, made one with contemporary posthumanism, can offer a much needed praxeological toolbox for a participatory science of relational cosmogenesis in which individuals approach the problems of global co-existence as plural collective problems of becoming. Perhaps yoga, seen in this light, can be the sequel to Ferrando’s philosophical posthumanism, opening the technologies of the self towards Nietzsche’s overhuman, seen not as a rejection of the animal but a deep identity through relationality with all the beings of earth and world.

The text was first Published here.

What does the ideal posthuman economic system look like? What kind of world should we strive toward twenty, fifty or a hundred years from now? To me, an ideal society is one where every individual is happy. People are happy when they have positive social interactions, when they have the freedom to choose, and when they feel valued in society, allowing them to lead meaningful lives (Brown 2017). The ideal economic system should cater to these human needs, being a combination of capitalism and socialism that maximizes the happiness of every member of society.

Much of our twenty-first century world operates under capitalism, an economic system in which private individuals or businesses own capital goods. Products are exchanged over a free market, where firms decide what to produce using the inputs and factors of production they own. Businesses engage in cutthroat competition, driving down prices and producing unique goods to attract customers and generate large profits. However, to optimize profits, some corporations will exploit resources and cheap labour to sell more and reduce costs. This leads society to become excessively money-focused, seeing people as tools and resources to be taken advantage of. Karl Marx, co-author of The Communist Manifesto, supports this, writing: “The bourgeoisie has torn away from the family its sentimental veil, and has reduced the family relation to a mere money relation” (Marx 1848). On top of this, the competition forces companies to hire the best of the best, making the job market feel like a zero-sum game, where individuals must push each other down in order to reach the top and succeed. All of this comes together to form our current toxic individualistic culture, turning people within the same communities against each other rather than respecting one another as members of the human race.

The sense of community and cooperation seen in socialist and communist philosophies are aspects capitalism should learn from. In collectivist systems, ownership of capital goods is placed with the public. The government is in full control of the economy and determines the best way to allocate resources and jobs to the people. In a way, people work using ‘borrowed’ resources from the government to contribute back to society. This fosters a sense of cooperation and community, as everyone’s work is essential to keep the country running efficiently; the efforts of every member are thus valuable at all times. The idea of competition within the community is also nullified because everyone is working toward the common goal of progress and better living standards. Yet in a large country, there is not much preventing individuals from shirking and procrastination. This is where the differences between Marx’s communism and socialism come into play. 

Although socialism and communism work similarly in the sense that capital goods are publicly owned, the difference lies in how private property is viewed. During the Enlightenment period, Jean-Jacques Rousseau suggested that private property was derived from one of two sources of inequality. In his Discourse on Inequality, Rousseau writes: “From the time they noticed that it was useful for one man alone to have provisions for two, equality disappeared, property was introduced, work became necessary” (Rousseau 1755). Rousseau is critical of private property because he believes humans are equal by nature and that it is the evil of private property that has revealed the greed within humans. Marx’s communistic theory takes this perspective literally and forbids private property, with a phrase in the Manifesto stating that the “theory of the Communists may be summed up in the single sentence: Abolition of private property” (Marx 1848). On the other hand, socialism allows and encourages property, as “socialism is based on the premise that people will be compensated based on their level of individual contribution to the economy” (Longley 2021). People should be rewarded for their efforts each day; the intangible feeling of societal contribution within a communist system may not feel worthwhile to justify getting up in the morning to carry out one's responsibilities.

While preserving the main characteristics of socialism, such as public ownership of goods and a command economy, an ideal system factors in human needs and happiness. The system should therefore introduce capitalism in the form of private property, providing a constant incentive for improvement as well as the freedom of choice--all the while promoting a sense of community among society. 

Works Cited

Brown, Clair. “What Makes People Happy?” Psychology Today, Sussex Publishers, 14 June 2017, www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/buddhist-economics/201706/what-makes-people-happy. 

Marx, Karl and Engels, Frederick. Manifesto of the Community Party. 1848.
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. Discourse on the Origin and the Foundations of Inequality Among Men. 1754. 

Longley, Robert. "The Differences Between Communism and Socialism." ThoughtCo, Feb. 2, 2021, thoughtco.com/difference-between-communism-and-socialism-195448.

Today, May 14th, marks the global online launch of The Portal, an experimental documentary film created by Tom Cronin, who we enthusiastically interviewed last year, and filmmaker Jacqui Fifer. 

The film follows six people as they tap into the power of mindfulness to live a more joyful, fulfilling life free from the suffocating grip of chronic conditions such as anxiety, Post-Traumatic-Stress Disorder, and depression. 

Cronin is certainly not new to the power of stillness. As the founder of The Stillness Project, a global initiative to inspire a billion people to meditate daily, he has greatly enjoyed the benefits of meditation in his own life. While working as a successful businessman--and adjusting to the incredibly fast-paced lifestyle that came with the role--Cronin found meditation as a method to help him reconnect with himself. He eventually left his career to cultivate his true calling, which later evolved into what is now The Stillness Project--and The Portal.​ 

We are so thrilled to announce the release of The Portal, which you can access here. In today's world, stillness is exactly what we all need. 

of Author: Leana Rutt
Bio: Leana Rutt is a sophomore at NYU studying Linguistics, Psychology, and Philosophy. She is interested in the ways language is used to shape meaning and the evolution of language as it intersects with consciousness.

The concept of the human is complex and evolving, and so too are the bonds between and among humans. It is upon considerations of these connections that questions arise as to the physiological and onto-existential elements of our being that unite us. One such element is the universality of our embodiment, in that all human beings are situated in the material substance of the human body. The conditions of the human body itself have been contested and perverted over centuries, as humans have mutilated and marginalized other bodies that did not fall into the arbitrary boundaries of what is deemed “human.” These perversions of the body stem from the dualism of embodiment that causes an inherent differentiation between oneself and other beings. Bodily situatedness, therefore, both unites and divides humans, as we acknowledge our coexistence as the same kind of organism, yet forcefully alienate those who do not conform to specific qualities of that organism.

The human being is situated in the body, much the same way that humans are situated on the planet. There is symbiosis in this ecological situatedness, as described by Francesca Ferrando in her book, Philosophical Posthumanism: “humans are adapting to the environment and the environment is adapting to humans” (Ferrando p. 105). The Anthropocene illuminates the massive geological impact that humans have had on the planet. Industrialization, globalization, and the proliferation of technology have facilitated the use of the earth as if it exists purely for human consumption. This self-examination--grappling with our situatedness on the planet— occurs too within the notion of physical embodiment. In both scenarios--i.e. the being situated in the body and the body situated on the planet--violent division results in the abuse of the body and the environment, respectively.

The situatedness of mind-in-body, man-in-environment, thing-in-mileu, as termed by Arne Naess in "The Shallow and the Deep, Long-Range Ecology Movement," illuminates the Cartesian dualisms that have driven much perception of the self and the other. The dualisms play out in terms of the contested notion of the human itself, and the anthropocentric manifestation of the human in relation to other beings. In her book, ¡Presente! The Politics of Presence, Diana Taylor writes that “the isolated, individuated subject came into being as a product of his own self-recognition, turning all else into an object of knowledge to be mastered and controlled…It facilitates the extermination and enslavement of those others, the ‘not I’” (Taylor p. 23). In other words, the more clearly delineated the categories are that sort and identify humans, the more room there is for people to fall out of categories and thus into subjugated positions.

Stemming from this construct comes the notion that certain bodies exist in the “liminal zone of the human” (Ferrando, p. 216-17). Perverse pageantry of the body emerges from the disunity of the “I” and the “not I.” Jeremy O’Harris explores the perverse sexual erotics of racial power in his “antebellum fever-dream,” “Slave Play.” Genital mutilation in some areas of Africa and of the Middle East, the violence of the Nazi regime, the persistent appeal of freak shows, and other such perversions of bodies demonstrate the ways that humans engage in a violence borne from essentialist dualisms. This “discourse of perversion” is, as Ferrando writes in The Body, “a recurring paradigm of human abjection” (Ferrando p. 217).
​
The situatedness which drives humans into this abject state exists within the same paradigm on a macro level. In terms of ecology, the man-in-environment dualism forces a deep, violent wedge between humans and nature. As the current geological period, the Anthropocene, is defined by human impact, it’s troubling that “this species-driven emphasis on the human as an autonomous entity stands on the psychotic speciesist perception, and on the related individual disconnect, of the human body as absolutely separated from planet Earth” (Ferrando, p. 105). 

An approach of deep ecology and post-anthropocentrism must be taken to counteract the damage to planet earth and reconnect humans to nature and to each other. Ferrando builds on Donna Haraway’s assertion of the Gaia Hypothesis, stating that “the environmental turn, more than evoking an essentialization of the Earth, liquefies the relation between the Earth and the human; symbolically and materially, the Earth may turn into Gaia, the ancestral mother of all life; the human may acknowledge themselves as compost” (Ferrando, p. 107). In the same vein, advocacy for the Rights of Nature has led to legislation that recognizes that nature is not something to be controlled for human purposes. This reconciles Western, colonialist notions of subjugation with the holistic, indigenous views of populations like the Maori tribe in New Zealand (The Rights of Nature: A Global Movement). Buddhism and Taoism provide for more environmentalist perspectives as well, encouraging the awakening to unity on the spiritual path. Efforts to bridge the gap separating humans from nature and each other is pertinent to the long term sustenance of the planet and its beings.

The disunity of the notion of the human is perhaps what has led to interpersonal and ecological violence. Embodiment fuels a need for definitions; for understanding one’s identity and environment and distinguishing oneself from it. The categorization inserts divisiveness and hierarchy around and between these definitions, thus allowing violence and perversions to seep into the body and the planet. The Gaia theory and such movements as deep ecology reject the dualism of situatedness and bridge the gaps between I/not I, mind/body, and human/planet by encouraging an ecosophy of ecological harmony (Naess p. 99).

Arne Naess (1973) The shallow and the deep, long‐range ecology movement. A summary , Inquiry, 16:1-4, 95-100, DOI: 10.1080/00201747308601682 

Ferrando, Francesca. Philosophical Posthumanism, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 2019. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/nyulibrary-ebooks/detail.action?docID=5790558.

Ferrando, Francesca. The Body. Peter Lang Publisher, 2014.
                             
Taylor, Diana. ¡Presente! The Politics of Presence. Duke University Press, 2020. Project MUSE. muse.jhu.edu/book/77192. 

​Before we delve into the topic of ethical and social consequences of Transhumanism, we must first establish the true meaning behind this movement. By a standard definition, Transhumanism “aims to promote [the] overcoming of human limitations and weaknesses that have traditionally been considered intrinsic to the human condition through increasing connections with technology and non-living or non-human objects” (Lockhart). This transformation can range from a diverse variety of modifications from a physical fusion with machine parts to an entirely immersive union with artificial intelligence. Although the transhumanist movement generally foreshadows a glimmering hope for humanity’s future, many people have examined and pondered what conquering death and attaining immortality through artificial measures really symbolizes for humanity, and if there are any consequential factors that are holding us back from making this momentous decision. 

As a generally optimistic consumer society, we tend to focus on the potential benefits of technological fusion, including increased longevity of the human life span and the improvement of living conditions for people living with disabilities. However, for others, it is more difficult to focus on the positive advantages over the ethical setbacks that could result from surrendering your physical body for a permanent existence in the digital realm. 

So, what do these ethical and moral dilemmas consist of? Moral conflicts seem to arise primarily from the systematic opposition between religion and science, especially considering how the notion of defying death may at times directly challenge certain individuals’ religious beliefs and moral values. For instance, in a survey conducted by the U.S. in 2014, 59% of American Muslims declared that there is no conflict between religion and science, while indicating that at least 40% of remaining American Muslims would agree that religion and science are opposite entities that can never coexist. The results of the study affirm that religious beliefs are one of the main causes of opposition against science and technology, suggesting how the notion of defying death through artificial means may contradict religious doctrines in a multitude of ways. 

Furthermore, Christian Orthodox theologian Brandon Galagher argues the incompatibility of Transhumanism and religious doctrine by inserting his own extremist view on this dynamic by claiming, “Transhumanism [is] demonic because it is a form through which man venerates himself” (Cira 72). Călin Emilian Cira, another religious contemporary, comments in reaction to Galagher’s argument that “from [these] harsh statements we could extrapolate that there can be no form of dialogue between Orthodoxy and Transhumanism” (Cira 72). The conviction of scholars in the religious field further confirms the paradoxical relationship between religion and technology, confirming that social consequences will indeed arise from future clashes between religious orthodoxy and transhumanist theory. It is simply intriguing that despite the recent drastic progress in technology, in our current global stage we are still experiencing the same social resistance against science and technology, such as the one between orthodoxy and natural law during the Scientific Revolution. Today’s conflict is a mere derivative of similar earlier clashes in history. 

In addition to the data supporting the conflicting nature between religion and technology, subtle resistance against Transhumanism is evident in a UK survey conducted in 2016. The survey revolved around microchips that would digitally store personalized data and would be implanted under one’s skin. The surveyors guaranteed that personal privacy would be protected. When asked if they would voluntarily participate and implant the chips in their bodies, 52% of the surveyed British residents flatly refused to engage in this seemingly beneficial offer. Considering that this implant would not involve the removal of a human limb or surrendering any part of the physical body, it is astonishing to see how unwilling many individuals are when they appear face-to-face with a life-altering choice. The results of the British survey concerning the public reaction toward technological development indicate how even despite the appeal of a better quality of life, there is a portion of the consumer audience which adamantly refuses to cast aside their bodies—for religious, moral, and other personal reasons—in favor of artificial progress.

The mass media and general public aren’t the only ones debating these broad issues concerning technology and its potential ethical oppositions. The enterprises and organizations, the very developers and proponents of the movement, keep a consistent tab on their technological progress while considering the same ethical values deemed important in the eyes of the consumer audience to whom they are selling their product. In fact, 40% of AI organizations in 2020 have designated a special team of researchers to monitor the development and use of artificial intelligence from an ethical perspective. Thus, this effort, on behalf of AI developer companies, can be interpreted as a genuine attempt at addressing and perhaps finding solutions to the various concerns plaguing their consumer audience. 

In its current status, while seemingly paradoxical in juxtaposition to my earlier stance on the exponential growth in technology, it is still in its developing stages of infancy. Yes, the evolution of technology is advancing day by day, hour by hour; even to this very second, as you are finishing this sentence. It may take years until we must face this life-altering decision whether we would be willing to upload our human conscience onto a sophisticated AI program or not. Whether the decision arrives decades later or is on our front doorsteps in a matter of months, it is most likely never too early to begin pondering the implications of shedding your natural existence for that of an artificial, albeit superior, vessel. 

Cira, Călin Emilian. “The Christian-Orthodox Faith and Christian Transhumanism.” Atla Religion Database, 2020.

ComRes. “If Your Privacy Was 100 Percent Guaranteed, Would You Have a Microchip Implanted in Your Hand? United Kingdom (UK) Survey 2016*.” Nesta , 26 Apr. 2016.

“Focus on Ethics in AI in Large Organizations/Enterprises Worldwide in 2020.” Shibboleth Authentication Request, Capgemini, July 2020.

Liu, Shanhong. “Most Important Factors in Trusting Artificial Intelligence (AI) within Companies in the United States as of March 2019.” EY, 2019.
 
Lockhart, Luke E. A. “Transhumanism.” Research Starters, Salem Press Encyclopedia, 2019.

Pew Research Center. “United States: Share of Muslims Who Say There Is No Conflict between Religion and Science.” Statista Research Department, 30 Apr. 2014.

​In the mere eighteen years that I have been living during this era of unprecedented changes, I have experienced and embraced the palpable effects of living during an evolving technological Renaissance, where technology has grown to become an overarching icon that subconsciously dictates the minute details of daily life. Twenty years since the turn of a new century, technology has become an irrevocable aspect of daily life for many of us. Can you imagine spending an entire day without glancing down to check text messages on your smartphone or stopping mid-sentence in a discussion with a friend (of course, in a virtual setting during these strange times) to quickly verify a fact on Google? Evidently, technology is easily accessible in virtually any modern location you go to. And pretty soon, these devices won’t just remain an external tool in your life. 

Moreover, popular media seems to be infatuated with imagining the endless possibilities that could result from the fusion between machines and humans (as you have probably seen in numerous sci-fi films). It isn’t particularly difficult to imagine what life would be like if you were to replace your left arm with a sturdy mechanical one or implant a high-tech eye transplant that grants you powerful x-ray and night vision. 

As a society, we are currently standing at a crossroad between the edge of human limitations and the beginning of a new path toward unbounded possibilities that can only be embraced through a joint contract with an artificial entity. It is that critical moment along a hero’s journey where the protagonist must choose between an unforeseeable (and often risky), thrilling, and ultimately rewarding adventure or remain in the comforts of their dreadfully mundane environment that they in which they have been raised throughout their life. 

Faced with the infinite opportunities offered through the recent exponential growth in technology, our society possesses an obsession in surpassing the limiting factors of the human vessel by fusing with these man-made machines. Despite the unorthodox yet exciting new powers that could be gained through a union with technology, would it ever cross your mind to consider some of the implications of signing away your natural body for an artificial one? 
Perhaps not, but do not fear: you are definitely not alone. 
 
As of March 2019, only 29% of surveyed Americans, in a poll about a list of crucial factors that contribute to the general public trust toward artificial intelligence within American industries, agreed that moral dilemmas would prevent them from simply hopping aboard the bandwagon in accepting technological advancements toward Transhumanism. Following the same logic, I would expect only about three out of ten readers of this blog entry to express similar sentiments, while the remaining seven may feel totally for or indifferent about this topic. Evidently, the statistics reveal a lack of concern for the moral implications behind advocating for this life-changing advancement in technology. Although many mainstream articles may focus on the analytical and quantitative aspects of this revolution in technological development, it is perhaps of equal importance to examine the social and ethical consequences that have arisen in opposition to this movement. More specifically, as someone who harbors a neutrally-positive bias for modern Transhumanism, I am intrigued as to what ethical consequences or social barriers are preventing a portion of the global population from accepting this new revolutionary step towards global prosperity.

Author: Matigan King

In the modern world, it is becoming increasingly difficult to be still. But author, producer, and coach Tom Cronin seeks to change that with The Stillness Project, “a global movement to inspire one billion people to meditate daily.” 

​Cronin believes strongly in the power of meditation and views it as a “tool” that allows one to “access this peace and quiet within,” he recently wrote in an email. With so many distractions—social media, television, advertisements—the act of sitting down and tuning into oneself can seem unnatural and perhaps even frightening. Although Cronin acknowledges stillness does not come naturally to us, he believes that the ability to cultivate a stillness practice is nonetheless accessible to all.

“For me stillness is like the difference between the surface of the ocean and the depths of the ocean,” he said. “The former is busy and fluctuating with peaks and troughs and the latter is still and peaceful. We all have that within us.” The capacity to generate stillness, then, can be seen as universal, thereby deconstructing the dualistic worldview Posthumansim seeks to transcend. 

Indeed, many people were forced into this realization when the Covid-19 pandemic all but brought the normal pace of life to a halt. 

“The impact of Covid is inspiring us to start to slow down and look within,” Cronin said. But he maintains that our tendency toward distraction has only shifted since the lockdown due to sites such as Amazon and Netflix, a trend which highlights Posthumanism's recognition that technology can be a tool or a curse, depending on how one chooses to view and use it. Still, Cronin said he has witnessed “increased levels of inquiry into meditation and mindfulness” and believes we are currently in “the early stages of this transition.”

Cronin is not alone in this belief, as businesses, too, have begun to recognize the importance—perhaps even necessity—of stillness.

“In the grueling, fearful months of this global pandemic, organizations had an epiphany: support for employee wellbeing is a must-have, not just a nice to have,” business author Greg Orme wrote in Forbes in December of last year. “The need for increased focus and resilience, especially by managers, has been obvious.”

Orme reported that the popular meditation app Headspace saw a 500% increase in the number of “companies seeking mental health assistance” for their employees. He also added that the number of prescriptions for digital therapy apps had skyrocketed 6,500%. 

The essential link between stillness and improved mental health has apparently become mainstream, but Cronin has deeply understood this link for quite some time. 

“When we go into stillness we see greater order and cohesiveness,” he said. “Meditation is a very effective tool to help us remain more present with daily life.”

But this practice still requires discipline, says Cronin, adding that it is “a journey rather than a goal.”
​
And The Stillness Project aims to help people as they embark on this journey toward a more aware, fulfilling existence. Perhaps this more enlightened existence will enable humans to look beyond our species and instead live with the understanding that we are a part of the living, breathing ecosystem that is Earth. And for Cronin, the “greatest shift” that would benefit the planet as a whole is, of course, “to get more people meditating.”

Tom's film, The Portal, will be coming out soon. Please watch a trailer of the film here:

Context: The 5th JCU Posthuman Studies Workshop is organized by the History and Humanities Department of John Cabot University (Italy). It was held on November 28th (Saturday), 2020, 5.30 pm ~ 8.45 pm CET
Style: Video-Conference.
Speakers: (in order of appearance): Natasha Vita-More, Francesca Ferrando, Dinorah Delfin, Baris Gedizlioglu, Chrissi Soteriades, Natalia Stanusch, Brunella Antomarini, Stefan Lorenz Sorgner, Giacomo Marramao, Dario Cecchi, Massimo Dell'Utri.
Link:The Full Video-Recording of the event is available on Youtube (https://youtu.be/OMLimxM3CrA).

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).

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

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.