Zen and the Art of Technological Engagement

"Vegetarians all say the same thing . . . 'I don't watch TV.'"

-- Adam Carolla

I heard this quote while I was road-tripping down the coast of California. I don't even know if Adam Carolla really said it, but I immediately loved it. I found it hilarious. I was a vegetarian. I definitely didn't watch TV. My pals and I were what you might consider neo-hippies: we wore bright crazy clothes, we traveled great distances to see our favorite bands, we slept in parks. We ate a lot of granola.

Most importantly (for this blog), we distanced ourselves from technology. There would be absolutely no texting, TV watching, or email checking on this road trip. We placed our faith in deep ecology. I mean anyone who's ever expanded their mind has seen that we're all connected, man. The bird is the same as the leaf or the cloud. We are made of the same stuff that the stars are made of.

http://iasos.com/artists/alexgrey/

So why were we so afraid of technology? Because we automatically associated it with all the bad juju we were trying to escape from: capitalism, industry, horrific pollution. We saw technoculture as the opposite of the natural world. We saw technology as opposite us.

But one has to ask: if we’re all connected and we’re all made of the same elements, couldn’t the computer be a part of this compassionate, Utopian ecosystem?

http://technabob.com/blog/2009/01/04/

strenco-st-2-steambot-steam-robot/

During my first semester of graduate school, I came across the notion of posthumanism. When I was assigned to read Nicolas Gane’s article (simply titled “Posthuman”), I was delighted to find that “I have been a posthumanist all along, and I didn’t even know it” (quoted from my own handwritten notes in the margin of his article). So what made me an unidentified posthumanist? I suppose it was my personal belief in equality among all creatures and things. It was wrapped up in my love of inanimate objects, fruits and flowers, sunsets and stars. And it was intertwined in an innate desire to see dominant ideologies shift into something better, something far more nuanced, just, and beautifully diverse.

Posthumanism is a contemporary philosophical movement that tries to resist humanism, or the idea that humans are the smartest, the best, and the most valuable creatures on the earth. You may have heard that humans are the only beings that have souls, or that “man is the measure of all things”? Yep, that’s humanism right there. While humanism heralds itself as the bastion of human rights and sometimes does a lot of good things, (the American Humanist Association or ASA often advocates for fair treatment of workers, same-sex marriage, things of that nature) it is this elevation of the human above all that promotes horrendous treatment of animals, endless corporate greed, and the annihilation of delicate ecosystems. Not to mention the disavowal of the consciousness inherent in both our carbon and silicon-based, nonhuman friends.

So posthumanism is a response to humanism. It’s an augmentation of deep ecology. It seeks to extend the compassion and equality of humanism to all beings. Deep ecology brings in water, soil, mountains, and air. Posthumanism says, “What about our laptops? What about our robot friends?”

http://anamsh13.blogspot.com/2010/11/
nature-versus-technology.html

Alright, alright so my cellphone is not exactly the same as my aloe plant. I can see that. But the codes that govern our digital devises are not nearly as “inanimate” as we would sometimes like to believe. Code degrades. It evolves. It mutates in unforeseen and unforeseeable ways. Much like our own DNA, computer code is simply not static, and I would wager to say that sometimes, those devises have an agenda all their own.

In this posthuman era, people have begun to open their hearts to encounters with the surreal, and synchronicity shows us that we are not always in control of meaning. Exposure to chaos teaches us not to be afraid of it. Our understanding of the ways that animals and plants communicate is being revolutionized. Personal relationships to machines have never before been so prevalent, individual dependence on technology has never been so widely accepted, and technological advancement has placed the means of digital art production into the hands of consumers.

I seem to have adopted a more Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance approach to technology. In Robert M. Pirsig’s delightful fiction novel, the narrator (who studies Eastern philosophy and could easily be categorized as a kind of biker hippie) critiques “romantics” who shy away from technology the way my friends and I did. Pirsig’s narrator explains that, "The Buddha, the Godhead, resides quite as comfortably in the circuits of a digital computer or the gears of a cycle transmission as he does at the top of the mountain, or in the petals of a flower." The ability to bond with, understand, and repair one’s own technological apparatuses (be they ICUs, motorcycles, or kitchen sinks) is seen as a locus of Zen in this book. When we refuse to learn how to use the technology available to us, we place even more power in the hands of the elite. (Donna J. Haraway would agree.)

Now I certainly can’t wave a magic wand and use my compassion to dissolve all the ethical conundrums circling around technology. It simply shows that we can’t throw the robot out with the transmission fluid.

In some ways, maybe my young hippie friends and I have sold out. Some of us got the kind of jobs we said we’d never get, wear the kinds of clothes we said we would never wear, and made commitments we said we would always resist. We’ve climbed down off the safe pedestals we thought we could teeter on. We got a little more digital and a lot more real.

http://mat3i.tumblr.com/post/
217199331

This is not to say that we are completely different people. I’m talking about shaving our armpits and getting cellphones, not joining the Republican party. And though I ascribe some nostalgia to the kids we used to be, I feel very content with the ways we’ve gone.

And of course we still go on road trips, trading in the back woods Rainbow Gatherings for the deeply cyborgian Burning Man Festival, where posthumanism is alive and well. I get the feeling that it is beginning to thrive everywhere: in farmers’ markets and local art shows, in letters to congress and digital music sharing, in our dreams, in our fantasies, and in our plays. It is a good time to be conscious matter.

References:

Gane, Nicholas. “Posthuman.” Theory, Culture & Society 23 (2006): 431-34. Pdf.

Haraway, Donna J. "A Cyborg Manifesto: Science, Technology, and Socialist‐Feminism in the Late Twentieth Century." Simians, Cyborgs and Women: The Reinvention of Nature. New York: Routledge, 1991. 149‐81. Print.