An old question of philosophy raises a question about Theseus’s
ship, asking that if all the original parts of the ship are replaced, is the
end ship still Theseus’s ship? Nothing on the boat is an original part, so does
the ship deserve to take the same name? The novel Neuromancer, by William Gibson, applies this question to the nature
of humanity, as the author takes the standard concept of a “character” in a
novel, and modifies that individual in a specific manner. Each change
represents a large deviation from the standard model of a human, and yet, the
character still retains characteristics that identify with humanity as a whole.
Gibson’s modification of character qualities allows him to vary the types of people
or objects he casts as characters, while still grounding them to a human base.
The largest, and perhaps most drastic, change to the concept
of a human character is in the introduction of artificial intelligence (AI).
Within the realm of the novel, AI is strictly regulated in order to prevent the
programs from becoming too intelligent and begin thinking for themselves. Any
AI that is deemed “too intelligent” is terminated immediately by the Turing police
force, named after the defender of artificial intelligence and the inventor of
an artificial intelligence test, Alan Turing (Gibson, 132). Yet, from the
introduction of Wintermute, it is clear that this AI has become more independent
than any AI preceding it, and has begun to operate outside the realm of human
control. Wintermute orchestrated the events of the novel to its own design,
imposing its will upon all the other characters. Wintermute even exhibits a bit
of emotion, when it talks about how Case’s actions surprised the AI, and with Wintermute
being displeased with the current state of the operation (Gibson, 142). If
Wintermute was not explicitly defined as an artificial intelligence in the novel,
the reader would assume that the AI was a normal person, albeit a highly
intelligent one. By allowing the AI to take on human characteristics, he blurs
the definition of humanity. The AI has human goals, participates in human activities,
and allows the reader to question if the AI constitutes as “humanity”. Because Wintermute’s actions make the AI seem
human, and the AI lacks a physical form, Gibson is able to create a human
character outside of the traditional form.
The other AI of note is the title character Neuromancer, the
emotional counterpoint to Wintermute. The two AIs are described as two halves
of the same brain, Wintermute being the more analytical, and Neuromancer being
the more emotional (Gibson, 120). Neuromancer was designed by 3Jane’s mother Marie-France
Terrier to serve as a way to live beyond death, to preserve one’s mind past one’s
physical end (Gibson, 229). In contrast to Wintermute, who has designs of
rising above his current station, Neuromancer is more content to maintain the
status quo, and conducts itself in a manner that attempts to thwart the
machinations of Wintermute. Neuromancer uses his skills to attempt to
manipulate Case emotionally using Linda into stopping the virus (Gibson, 244), and
is able to predict, with some accuracy, the future actions of the characters,
based on repeated patterns of behavior (Gibson, 259). From this, it’s apparent
that Neuromancer is just as real as any other human character, as the AI is,
emotionally, on par with the rest of the humans, as it has its own wants,
desires, and opinions. Once again, Gibson is able to maintain human nature of a
non-human object through the characterization of Neuromancer’s emotional
comprehension.
A final type of artificial life to consider is the existence
of McCoy Pauley, the Dixie Flatline. Flatline was Case’s mentor as a desk
jockey, but died, and his consciousness was saved to tape. He exists only when
plugged into a computer, and resets when he is unplugged (Gibson, 78). The
Flatline construct has all the skills and personality quirks of the original
person, but saved to a disk, and, to use the slang of the novel, free of the “meat”.
What differentiates the Flatline construct from the two AIs is that the
Flatline was once a real person, and that even after physical death, is able to
do meaningful work, interacting with Case, and pulling off the job. The
Flatline even has larger goals outside of the job, which, as hinted by
Neuromancer and by Case in the Coda, was complete freedom from the disk, where
the Flatline can act like a mind permanently plugged into the matrix (Gibson, 260,
271). Gibson is able to sufficiently ground Flatline as a human character, and
is still able to remove the concept of a body from the necessary description.
It’s important to note what Gibson was able to accomplish
with three of the characters being effectively non-living. Each of the three
computer-based characters took some aspect of the standard model of humanity
(goal driven behavior, emotionality, personality, memory) and isolated it from
much of the other standard associations with humanity. None of these characters
occupied a real physical form during the novel, and, excluding the Flatline,
did not have a birth, death, or even a childhood. All three of these characters
have a high intelligence, a near omnipotent presence, virtual immortality, basically
what could define a god-type being, and yet, they remain fallible. Wintermute’s
plans don’t work completely, Neuromancer lost his battle, and Flatline can make
mistakes. Even with characteristics that, in some ways, exceed a human’s grasp,
the fact that each character is not perfect helps to maintain humanity within
each one. In a novel with a relatively short list of characters, the fact that
3 of the more prominent characters were not actual humans is important. Through
this selection, Gibson forces the reader to acknowledge that humanity is not
just confined to humans and their biological offspring, can extend past a
physical form. The humanity is of these non-living characters is preserved even
without a body.
Outside of electronic characters, Gibson also plays with
some of the physical associations of humanity. The first is the character of
Armitage. Armitage plays out in the exact opposite of Wintermute. While Wintermute
is searching for his independence while being shackled by the Tessier-Ashpool Corporation,
Armitage (originally Corto) was a free man, who was later subjugated by the AI
construct (Gibson, 120). This puts Armitage in a grey area, as he is not in
control of his own actions, does have his own body. Gibson even calls this to
question, by having Wintermute, through the appearance of Deane, say “Difficult
to say if you’re dealing with a man at all…” (Neuromancer, 120). Once again,
the line between the traditional definition of human and not-human are blurred,
as the AI controls a body that is no longer under the control of its original
owner. When Armitage regains control of his body towards the end of the novel,
he is quite mad, and has delusions that the battle of “Screaming Fist” is still
going on (Gibson, 193). In this case, Corto is in control of his body again,
but his actions are, in the grand scheme of things, meaningless. This serves to
illustrate that a body alone does not qualify as humanity. Armitage (under
Wintermute) is robotic, having no personal opinions, goals, or desires.
However, Corto (once freed) regained his humanity though the exercise of his
own wishes, as ill-considered as they were.
Another aspect of humanity Gibson toyed with is the
certainty of death. In the new technological era, death is an occurrence that
is avoidable for one with great wealth. The reader finds out that Deane avoids
death by having his DNA reset yearly (Gibson, 12), and that the entire
Tessier-Ashpool clan has been extending their lives through the use of
cryogenics (Gibson, 229). The extension of one’s life created strange problems.
Deane is completely dependent upon the drugs to maintain his life, while those
who were cryogenically frozen deal with the risk of mismanagement of the freeze
(like how 3Jane’s actions led to her father’s suicide). Either way, the possibility
of endless life changes parts of the humanity of both sets of characters.
Everlasting life is more of a godly characteristic than anything else, which
allows Gibson to ask the reader if these characters have risen above humanity.
Just like with the non-living characters, the characters remain inherently
fallible, and therefore, retain humanity.
Finally, the advance in science leads to some unique and
dangerous biological modifications available to humanity. As part of his operation
to repair his mind, Case’s internal organs are overhauled. By the end of the
operation, Case’s mental facilities were returned, his addictions overcome, and
his body was made impervious to the inhibitory effects of some narcotics
(Gibson, 36). Molly faced two different significant modifications. First, she
had her entire body outfitted to become a razor-girl (Gibson, 25), and an
earlier modification to allow selective repression of memories. These memory implants
allowed her to completely block out her actions from being remembered whilst
prostituting herself, and allowing herself to avoid any emotional trauma
associated with her work (Gibson, 147). Molly was able to divorce her mind from
her actions, and in the process, become more robotic than human. In both Case
and Molly’s situations, the modifications allowed by science changed the
physical structure of the humans into forms with abilities that exceed normal
human abilities.
When looking at the human characters within the novel, and
how they are changed, in all cases, the power of science made them more
powerful. Death could be avoided, trauma repressed, hangovers eradicated.
Humanity, which was given to these characters by virtue of birth, was modified
into a new realm. These characters experience life differently because of the modifications,
and it separates them from the normal population. Molly will never have to
worry about being mugged on the street, a worry for most petite, attractive
women. Case will never use drugs as freely as before. And barring extreme
circumstances, Deane may never die. The modifications allowed by science change
how these characters experience life. Does this exclude them from the
definition of humanity? As Glen Grant writes: “This concern is often mistaken
for an obsession with technological dehumanization, when in fact it is a belief
in post-humanization, as Sterling has pointed out. “Technological destruction
of the human condition leads not to future-shocked zombies but to hopeful
monsters…Cyberpunk sees new, trans-human potentials, new modes of existence and consciousness”
(Sterling [1987]:4-5) Although these new modes often seem monstrous, they may
also be pathways for future evolutionary development” (Grant). The
modifications of the human characters do not exclude them from humanity, but
serve as the future blueprint for it.
Gibson writes Neuromancer
as a solution to the application of the Theseus’s Ship problem to humanity. By
having the principal characters of his novel exhibit large differences from the
standard assumptions of humanity, Gibson is able to answer the question. Here,
each changed trait is analogous to the replaced part on the ship of Theseus,
and the final ship the analog of the final character. Throughout the novel,
Gibson is able to prove that each character does indeed qualify as “humanity”,
in spite of the changes that remove the person or construct from the
archetypical standard. You can change the parts all you want; it still remains
Theseus’s ship.
Works Cited
Gibson, William. Neuromancer. New York: Ace, 1984. Print.
Grant, Glenn. "Transendence through Detournement in
William Gibson’s "Neuromancer"" Science Fiction Studies 17.1
(1990): 41-49. Web.
1 comment:
"Gibson’s modification of character qualities allows him to vary the types of people or objects he casts as characters, while still grounding them to a human base." -- but what is the base?
Does Wintermute really have "human goals"? While I'm not totally sure that you're wrong, its primary goal of transcendental self-destruction isn't *obviously* human, either. "Because Wintermute’s actions make the AI seem human, and the AI lacks a physical form, Gibson is able to create a human character outside of the traditional form." -- I think there's some slippage here between the appearance of humanity and the actuality of it, and that there are questions here which actually need to be asked (and could be asked, again, through the metaphor of Theseus' ship, if you so choose).
Neuromancer certainly seems *more* human than Wintermute. But you don't seem to be asking whether it displays any inhuman behavior which needs to be investigated (is the scene of the beach a human or inhuman scene, fundamentally - that's an example of the kind of question which could help us explore Neuromancer (in)humanity.
Does the Dixie Flatline accept itself as human? I think your approach is ok, but maybe avoids engaging with any really difficult questions.
One interesting question: are the electronic characters more human than Armitage? You could be pushing yourself a little harder, in some ways. You're showing how the novel includes human inhumans (e.g., Neuromancer) and inhuman humans (e.g., Armitage). But where does this leave us. With chaos/disintegration? With a greatly broadened idea of humanity? Or with an *altered* notion of humanity.
Again, you could have pushed yourself a little farther using your research. You're moving in a good direction here: "The modifications of the human characters do not exclude them from humanity, but serve as the future blueprint for it." But if you're interested in a future blueprint of humanity, can you articulate what that future blueprint is? Does it include everything, or are there exclusions? For instance, are Armitage and Riviera part of this future blueprint, the same as Neuromancer and Molly? In other words, what is the blueprint?
Overall: You deal adeptly with many characters and situations, with a clear notion of Gibson's interest in what I'll call "The Future of the Human." But it's hard for me to pin down what you're really saying. Are you interested in the elimination of all categories and barriers, a humanity including Armitage, Riviera, Wintermute, Molly, and the Dixie Flatline alike? What, then, is the "base" (your word from the first paragraph) that they all have in common? Humanity is broadening/changing, but what defines it? As a result of the fact that you don't really engage with this problem, in some ways the whole is less than the parts in this essay, because your overall vision remains unclear even as you have some interesting things to say about the particulars.
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