Post your questions, etc., as comments to this thread.
Reminder: I am looking more for quality than for quantity here, and this is only one form of class participation. You are not under any obligation to write at length for these, although if you feel like your actual in-class participation is weak, you probably want to write more than some others would.
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While reading "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?", I kept thinking about whether or not Dick was trying to form an argument in favor of or against humanity being in some way special. There are clear distinctions made between the humans and androids, although many of them are prone to exceptions. Luba can sing just as well as any human opera singer, even though the arts are generally treated as an exclusively human phenomenon and Rachael is almost indistinguishable from a human with a mental disorder that prevents normal human empathy.
What I found striking was a single line, when Barbour says "Hey, for twenty-five bucks you can buy a full-grown mouse"(12). In our world, mice are disposable as to the point where they is more likely to be found as lab test subjects than in peoples' homes, so the fact that a mouse costs $25 in 1968 dollars is quite telling. It shows that not only are animals highly valued after the loss of almost all nature in a nuclear war, but people are willing to pay extraordinary amounts of money to enjoy their companionship.
Marcuse discusses the two basic classes in the Capitalist world, the bourgeoisie and the proletariat, and how "they no longer appear to be agents of historical transformation" (Marcuse Prologue). In Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?", after the nuclear fallout, the structure of society changes greatly on Earth, including far more social influence coming from corporations like Rachel Rosen's acting mechanically to produce technology for profit. The Rosen's collection of animals, the most valued entities in the world, shows their class status. Androids, the new slave class, eliminated the need for a working class, with the exception of specials, who stay on Earth, like John Isidore, who does not own any animals.
By the end of the war, when everything else can be made, the most needed commodity is life. I think Dick's point is that to get to a point when a system of "subversive tendencies and forces" (Marcuse Prologue), has commodified everything (remember, if the Rosen Corporation didn't do it, some other company would), and the only real need is life, that one need cannot be manufactured at all by any sort of civilized system... sorry, humanity!
I'm enjoying both readings this week immensely, but I find something really interesting in their juxtaposition. Essentially we're given writing on two completely opposite poles, and I wonder what it means about our world that we're reading them both in light of the other in this class. (Not that, in the year 2012, that this sort of thing is unique or particularly interesting in a college class, but as this is Narr&Tech I think we should consider the ways in which modern technologies allow this sort of thing.)
On the one hand we have Dick, who, though I love and admire the man, produces some of the most godawful and awkward prose I've ever read in this book. It's kind of the height of pulp writing, kind of pure idea and plot and no careful attention to details in the craft. On the other we have Marcuse, who is producing very careful, difficult, dense political philosophy, which we were warned on the first day of class was going to be one of the most difficult texts we'd read in our careers as students.
So I guess in the end I'm noticing something about our condition as readers in a postmodern capitalist society where the ability to produce (so many publishers and access to cheap publishing technology that almost anything can get printed) and have access to (cheap paperbacks, instant downloads) texts is universal and taken for granted, and what that means for the ways WE read and understand our own culture.
Just a random question that I had that I was curious to see how others would respond to: Are the androids dehumanizing or do they serve as a sort of complement or guide to humans?
After some discussion about Heidegger in the last class about his essay “The Question Concerning Technology,” I found myself referring to it during the reading. Dick describes the creation of an android with artificial intelligence that has the capability of turning on its master. Technology can control itself. The discussion for me here surrounds that of natural versus artificial. But is the artificial intelligence also controlled or a simulation of individual existence? Society tends to favor the natural over the artificial, but I feel like Dick is – whether intentionally or note – trying to blend the boundaries of humanity and technology.
A central discussion in relation to technology in the novel is the depiction of the android, a stunning technological achievement. The android is designed to be as human-like as possible with how it looks and behaves, but as the androids become more sophisticated, they are indistinguishable from other humans. What means to an end do they serve? They initially served as weapons of warfare, wars being notorious for developing grounds in technology. So when humans have to create new habitats on other planets, what ends are they serving now?
And as a follow up: How and why do people redefine technology and themselves? How does this work in Marcuse’s discussion of class structure? How does technology fall into place there?
I thought it was interesting the prevalence of simulated realities versus actual realities on Earth in "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" Obviously that's one of the most prominent themes, but what struck me most though provoking was the manner in which the characters lived so vicariously. Just in the first chapter we see Rick lamenting over not having a real animal and living through his neighbor, bribing him for a real horse. Then we see just a few pages later John Isadore living, literally vicariously through Wilbur Mercer in his "empathy box" only to be physically injured in the process, something he knew would happen ahead of time. So why would they put themselves through this emotional and physical trauma, repeatedly, when they know there is absolutely no escape? When they know that in the end, these actions and thoughts and desires are only prolonging their misery and knowledge of the fact that they are truly stuck in this existence which they paint so bleakly? We sometimes see Rick either resign to this notion and thus resign himself to his complacency, or do the exact opposite: set his sights on a new goal (most of the time, earning enough money for a real animal) and muddle through life that way. On the other hand, it seems as though Isadore just likes to be distracted from his miserable life. But then, the question is, what is the difference between what John is doing and what Rick is doing? Is there really any difference? But back to the original question, why create these separate realities for themselves when they know there is truly no escape? And is that any different from what anybody in our society does? We have our hopes and dreams and goals from the time we're little kids. It starts as wanting to be a fireman or a teacher, then the president of the United States, then a CEO of a fortune 500 company, or Katie Couric's ultimate replacement. From there they morph into more realistic goals, a newspaper or magazine writer, an investment banker or personal injury attorney. But how are these separate realities created for different people to allow them to resign to making the most out of a teacher's salary or to force them to keep on truckin' until they are elected President, or at least into the campaign? My point is, it seems as though, and this seems like something Marcuse touches on in his introduction (although I could have completely misinterpreted it and be completely off base) the leaders of society, the mass media, the CEO's of those Fortune 500 companies, the government officials, it seems like they all are the ones who set these rules and expectations for everyone to follow. And even if YOU don't want to follow them, you ultimately resign to it as it is the only way to survive in society, and in this novel's case, even with a lack thereof.
I'm not sure if I said anything of value there, but there are my thoughts.
As Julia Andrews says in The Sound of Music, “Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start,” let me, too, start at the beginning of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? The book opens up discussing a machine that controls moods. The idea that exact and specific moods—ranging from “self-accusatory depression” to “the desire to watch TV, no matter what’s on it” to “ecstatic sexual bliss,” etc.—can be programmed, or dialled as is the case in Do Androids?, is an interesting topic to think about. The specificity that can be found with the mood programmer is new, but not the fact that moods can be changed. In medicine today, we have uppers, we have downers, we have mood stabilisers, etc, so this idea is not far out there inhabiting some foreign unimaginable land. However, it raises some questions about being able to control exactly what a person is feeling. This opening section also discusses the idea of technology controlling people i.e., taking away freewill, or rather in this case, the voluntary giving up one’s own freewill—but how much of this is voluntary consent and how much of this is socialisation? Iran is told to dial a mood to make her want to dial a mood and she complains about this being the “most alien drive [she] can imagine.” Rick is so ingrained with the culture of dialling moods that it is odd to him that Iran does not want to be happy; however, she has no compulsion to always be happy and this is a form of rebellion against society and technology. In addition to the relationship between technology and freewill, this rebellion, its consequences, and, too, non-rebellion and the consequences of that, would be an interesting topic to discuss in class.
The question of what constitutes a worthy life is really something that I struggled with throughout "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep." People take no offense to killing androids who look and talk just like real humans, despite their lack of empathy. The do however take GREAT offense to the idea of killing animals, even though most don't ever feel empathy for another being, or even come in contact one. So why are animals so important and androids not?
I guess it has something to do with the fact they are rare, but that wouldn't necessarily mean that you would find it revolting to eat one, just sad maybe that something rare was gone from the earth. The idea of killing the androids doesn't seem to bother either Rick or Phil but it does seem to bother Rick's wife. Even the owner of the android company seems to find their deaths sad. This brings up the question again of what is a human life? Does empathy mean you're human? What is this book trying to say about human nature?
When I was reading "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" I couldn't help but realize I kept reading the word empathy. Empathy is what distinguishes a living being from an "andy" and could potentially be the source of resentment that stems from owning an electric sheep. No matter how much love Rick shows the sheep, he knows it will never be reciprocated.
It's easy to assume that his desperation to own a real animal could stem from societal pressures for higher status, since animals are so rare and coveted, but after reading just the first couple of chapters, we know that the desire stretches beyond status.
What's tricky is knowing that Rachael Rosen herself is an android, but thinks that her inability to empathize is due to a childhood on Earth where she consumed animal flesh. But is she really unable to empathize? The line between human and android gets fuzzier as the novel goes on.
When I was reading "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" I couldn't help but realize I kept reading the word empathy. Empathy is what distinguishes a living being from an "andy" and could potentially be the source of resentment that stems from owning an electric sheep. No matter how much love Rick shows the sheep, he knows it will never be reciprocated.
It's easy to assume that his desperation to own a real animal could stem from societal pressures for higher status, since animals are so rare and coveted, but after reading just the first couple of chapters, we know that the desire stretches beyond status.
What's tricky is knowing that Rachael Rosen herself is an android, but thinks that her inability to empathize is due to a childhood on Earth where she consumed animal flesh. But is she really unable to empathize? The line between human and android gets fuzzier as the novel goes on.
"Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" by Philip K. Dick has driven me to consider the value we as humans place on our pets, and a world in which animals are scarce has been hard to imagine. Do you think in time that perhaps an "electric sheep", or robot pet could potentially be more popular than the real thing? I wonder, with all the wonderful things technology has replaced or is in the process of replacing, if we will one day think of the concept of keeping live animals captive in our homes but a passing fad.
One really puzzling aspect of my reading of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep is why Rick never left Earth when the migration happened? The only constraint I see is his job, but I can assure you that many other people, much more important than Rick (not belittling his importance to the world or to the society) that just packed up and left. With the constant plague of dust, the threat of insanity, living in fear for your life, the potential to becoming a “chickenhead”, it would be clear to me to pack up and leave, start a new life. Is he afraid of starting new? I can understand maybe Rick not departing Earth, but surely his wife had no reason to stay and be depressed. I see this theme of potentially irrational choices being made to be prominent in this novel.
While reading "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?", I found it interesting that they had developed a test to differentiate between androids and humans that was so flawed, Rick almost believed the Rosens when they claimed Rachel was actually human. The testing developed by the androids themselves, was even more intriguing and made me wonder whether their test actually worked. Would androids sent from Mars actually go as far as creating a test designed specifically for terminating their own kind? I suppose, one could argue, that the androids themselves were actually unaware of their status, so creating the tests could have been done accidentally. I also wonder whether the application of this test on Phil would result in him being discovered to be an android. It would appear that it would, considering his boss was very wary about testing the employees at the facility. I imagine that both tests have their flaws, and as such, either result could be possible for Phil, although we are already led to believe that Phil is in fact an android.
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