![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
So here's all three of my proposed abstracts for the forthcoming book, The Ultimate Star Trek & Philosophy.
I also updated my CV: https://sites.google.com/site/damienwilliamscv/
ABSTRACT 1: “The Quality of Life: The Implications of Augmented Personhood and Machine Intelligence in the Star Trek Canon”
This chapter will focus on the evolution of the Federation’s relations with cybernetically augmented humans and machine intelligences, as seen in TOS, TNG, DS9, and VOY, asking whether it is legitimate to judge the level of progressiveness of the text of Star Trek in its treatment of these questions, and, if so, what is that level? Ultimately, we will consider the possibility that writers of the canon intended these characters to represent humanity’s technophobia as a whole, with human perspectives at the end of these episodes being one of a hopeful openness and willingness to accept. However, this does not leaves the manner in which they reach that acceptance—that is, the factors on which that acceptance is conditioned—outside of the realm of critique.
As considerations of both biotechnological augmentation and artificial intelligence have advanced, Star Trek has often been at the front of the pack when it comes to discussing these ideas in the context of popular media. Unfortunately, that progressiveness has not always extended to the ultimate outcome of those considerations. For instance, while Picard and Haftel eventually come to see Lal as Data's legitimate offspring, in the eponymous episode, it is only through their ability to map Data's actions and desires onto a human spectrum—and Data's desire to have that map be as faithful as possible to its territory—that they come to that acceptance.
Considering the ways in which Lt. Cmdr. Data lives and is discussed, and the way in which human members of the Federation judge their non-Terran compatriots—all according to their “Humanity”—it is not surprising that anything that makes humans more machine-like, or any machine intelligence that does not “Know Its Place,” is initially distrusted. The reason is the one most common throughout science fiction: It is assumed at the outset that any sufficiently non-human consciousness will try to remove humanity’s natural right to self-determination and freewill. But from sailing ships to star ships, the human animal has always sought a far horizon, and so it bears asking, how does Star Trek regard that primary mode of our exploration, that first vessel—ourselves?
For many, Star Trek has been formative to the ways in which we see the world and understand our future’s possibilities. On the whole, the United Federation of Planets is an ideally utopian place, where all of humanity can seek what we determined was best for ourselves, which is why it is strange to look back at episodes such as the “The Nth Degree” and to be presented with the presupposition that fear and distrust of a hyper-intelligent cyborg is warranted. Thus, while the spectre of Pinocchio and the Ship of Theseus—that age-old question of “how much of myself can I replace before I am not myself”— both hang over the whole of the Trek Canon, it must be remembered that, as VOY’s Doctor embodies, Pinocchio’s artifice may be art, and that our ships are just our limbs extended to the sea and the stars.
ABSTRACT 2: “Is Resistance Even Necessary? On The Representation, Responsibilities, and Rights of Machine Consciousness in the Star Trek Canon”
This chapter will focus on the evolution of the Federation’s relations with machine intelligences, as seen in TNG, DS9, and VOY, asking whether it is legitimate to judge the level of progressiveness of the text of Star Trek in its treatment of these questions, and, if so, what is that level? Ultimately, we will consider the possibility that writers of the Star Trek Canon intended these characters to represent humanity’s technophobia as a whole, with human perspectives at the end of these episodes being one of a hopeful openness and willingness to accept. We must not believe, however, that this leaves the manner in which they reach that acceptance—that is, the factors on which that acceptance is conditioned—outside of the realm of critique.
As considerations of artificial intelligence have advanced, Star Trek has often been at the front of the pack when it comes to discussing these ideas in the context of popular media. Unfortunately, that progressiveness has not always extended to the ultimate outcome of those considerations. For instance, while Picard and Haftel eventually come to see Lal as Lt. Cmdr. Data's legitimate offspring, in the eponymous episode, it is only through their ability to map Data's actions and desires onto a human spectrum—and Data's desire to have that map be as faithful as possible to its territory—that they come to that acceptance.
From the way in which Data conducts his life and is discussed, to the way in which human members of the Federation judge and discuss their non-Terran compatriots—all according to their “Humanity”—it is not surprising that any machine intelligence that does not “Know Its Place” is initially distrusted. The reason is the one most common throughout science fiction: It is assumed at the outset that any sufficiently non-human consciousness will try to remove humanity’s natural right to self-determination and freewill.
For many in philosophy and science, Star Trek has been formative to the ways in which we see the world and understand the possibilities for our future. On the whole, the United Federation of Planets is an ideally utopian place, where all of humanity can seek what we determined was best for ourselves, which is why it is strange to look back at some episodes and to find a decided lack of nuance or attempted understanding. Instead, we are presented with the presupposition that fear and distrust of a hyper-intelligent machine consciousness is warranted, because it will “think it knows better than we.” This assumption, like all others, must be accounted for and investigated. Because while the spectre of Pinocchio may hang over much of the Trek Canon, it must be remembered that, as VOY’s Doctor embodies, Pinocchio’s artifice may well turn out to be art.
ABSTRACT 3: “The Argo and the Argus Array: Identity and Augmented Personhood in the Star Trek Canon”
The driving ethos of Star Trek has always been one of exploration and adaptation, Gene Roddenberry having taken it as read that humanity’s overarching motivation has always been a sense of wonderment, and the question “What’s Next?” What ships have always been to humanity is an extension of our cultural and perhaps species-wide desire to see what lies over the horizon. All of these vessels for the traveling of great distances, all these markers of the means by which we extended our travel via technology and intermediated a cyborg sense of exploration into our natural ability to go further and farther, longer.
This chapter will explore the fact that, while Star Trek has always been a leader in the consideration of the implications of new technology, some measure of technophobia has always remained present in regards to biotechnologies. Recall that the very first cyborgs—literally “cybernetic organisms,” as coined by Manfred Clynes and Nathan S. Kline—were conceived of in relation to the travel of the stars; human beings mechanically and chemically modified to survive the cold reaches of space. Yet even in Cordwainer Smith’s 1950 tale, “Scanners Live In Vain,” there was something of a trade-off: technological superiority at the cost of our humanity; and Star Trek bears many of the markers of its roots. Though biomechanical or cybernetic therapeutic techniques are present within the Star Trek universe, the consideration of the far reaches of biological enhancement is most often regarded as a cautionary tale.
From sailing ships to star ships, the human animal has always sought a far horizon, and so it bears asking, how does Star Trek regard that primary mode of our exploration, that first vessel—ourselves? From Lt. Reginald Barclay’s merger with the Enterprise D’s computer to the ever-present threat of the Borg, the spectre of the Ship of Theseus—the age-old question of “how much can I replace before I am no longer myself”—hangs over the whole of the Trek Canon. But, in the end, it must be remembered that our ships are just our limbs extended to the sea and the stars.
I also updated my CV: https://sites.google.com/site/damienwilliamscv/
ABSTRACT 1: “The Quality of Life: The Implications of Augmented Personhood and Machine Intelligence in the Star Trek Canon”
This chapter will focus on the evolution of the Federation’s relations with cybernetically augmented humans and machine intelligences, as seen in TOS, TNG, DS9, and VOY, asking whether it is legitimate to judge the level of progressiveness of the text of Star Trek in its treatment of these questions, and, if so, what is that level? Ultimately, we will consider the possibility that writers of the canon intended these characters to represent humanity’s technophobia as a whole, with human perspectives at the end of these episodes being one of a hopeful openness and willingness to accept. However, this does not leaves the manner in which they reach that acceptance—that is, the factors on which that acceptance is conditioned—outside of the realm of critique.
As considerations of both biotechnological augmentation and artificial intelligence have advanced, Star Trek has often been at the front of the pack when it comes to discussing these ideas in the context of popular media. Unfortunately, that progressiveness has not always extended to the ultimate outcome of those considerations. For instance, while Picard and Haftel eventually come to see Lal as Data's legitimate offspring, in the eponymous episode, it is only through their ability to map Data's actions and desires onto a human spectrum—and Data's desire to have that map be as faithful as possible to its territory—that they come to that acceptance.
Considering the ways in which Lt. Cmdr. Data lives and is discussed, and the way in which human members of the Federation judge their non-Terran compatriots—all according to their “Humanity”—it is not surprising that anything that makes humans more machine-like, or any machine intelligence that does not “Know Its Place,” is initially distrusted. The reason is the one most common throughout science fiction: It is assumed at the outset that any sufficiently non-human consciousness will try to remove humanity’s natural right to self-determination and freewill. But from sailing ships to star ships, the human animal has always sought a far horizon, and so it bears asking, how does Star Trek regard that primary mode of our exploration, that first vessel—ourselves?
For many, Star Trek has been formative to the ways in which we see the world and understand our future’s possibilities. On the whole, the United Federation of Planets is an ideally utopian place, where all of humanity can seek what we determined was best for ourselves, which is why it is strange to look back at episodes such as the “The Nth Degree” and to be presented with the presupposition that fear and distrust of a hyper-intelligent cyborg is warranted. Thus, while the spectre of Pinocchio and the Ship of Theseus—that age-old question of “how much of myself can I replace before I am not myself”— both hang over the whole of the Trek Canon, it must be remembered that, as VOY’s Doctor embodies, Pinocchio’s artifice may be art, and that our ships are just our limbs extended to the sea and the stars.
ABSTRACT 2: “Is Resistance Even Necessary? On The Representation, Responsibilities, and Rights of Machine Consciousness in the Star Trek Canon”
This chapter will focus on the evolution of the Federation’s relations with machine intelligences, as seen in TNG, DS9, and VOY, asking whether it is legitimate to judge the level of progressiveness of the text of Star Trek in its treatment of these questions, and, if so, what is that level? Ultimately, we will consider the possibility that writers of the Star Trek Canon intended these characters to represent humanity’s technophobia as a whole, with human perspectives at the end of these episodes being one of a hopeful openness and willingness to accept. We must not believe, however, that this leaves the manner in which they reach that acceptance—that is, the factors on which that acceptance is conditioned—outside of the realm of critique.
As considerations of artificial intelligence have advanced, Star Trek has often been at the front of the pack when it comes to discussing these ideas in the context of popular media. Unfortunately, that progressiveness has not always extended to the ultimate outcome of those considerations. For instance, while Picard and Haftel eventually come to see Lal as Lt. Cmdr. Data's legitimate offspring, in the eponymous episode, it is only through their ability to map Data's actions and desires onto a human spectrum—and Data's desire to have that map be as faithful as possible to its territory—that they come to that acceptance.
From the way in which Data conducts his life and is discussed, to the way in which human members of the Federation judge and discuss their non-Terran compatriots—all according to their “Humanity”—it is not surprising that any machine intelligence that does not “Know Its Place” is initially distrusted. The reason is the one most common throughout science fiction: It is assumed at the outset that any sufficiently non-human consciousness will try to remove humanity’s natural right to self-determination and freewill.
For many in philosophy and science, Star Trek has been formative to the ways in which we see the world and understand the possibilities for our future. On the whole, the United Federation of Planets is an ideally utopian place, where all of humanity can seek what we determined was best for ourselves, which is why it is strange to look back at some episodes and to find a decided lack of nuance or attempted understanding. Instead, we are presented with the presupposition that fear and distrust of a hyper-intelligent machine consciousness is warranted, because it will “think it knows better than we.” This assumption, like all others, must be accounted for and investigated. Because while the spectre of Pinocchio may hang over much of the Trek Canon, it must be remembered that, as VOY’s Doctor embodies, Pinocchio’s artifice may well turn out to be art.
ABSTRACT 3: “The Argo and the Argus Array: Identity and Augmented Personhood in the Star Trek Canon”
The driving ethos of Star Trek has always been one of exploration and adaptation, Gene Roddenberry having taken it as read that humanity’s overarching motivation has always been a sense of wonderment, and the question “What’s Next?” What ships have always been to humanity is an extension of our cultural and perhaps species-wide desire to see what lies over the horizon. All of these vessels for the traveling of great distances, all these markers of the means by which we extended our travel via technology and intermediated a cyborg sense of exploration into our natural ability to go further and farther, longer.
This chapter will explore the fact that, while Star Trek has always been a leader in the consideration of the implications of new technology, some measure of technophobia has always remained present in regards to biotechnologies. Recall that the very first cyborgs—literally “cybernetic organisms,” as coined by Manfred Clynes and Nathan S. Kline—were conceived of in relation to the travel of the stars; human beings mechanically and chemically modified to survive the cold reaches of space. Yet even in Cordwainer Smith’s 1950 tale, “Scanners Live In Vain,” there was something of a trade-off: technological superiority at the cost of our humanity; and Star Trek bears many of the markers of its roots. Though biomechanical or cybernetic therapeutic techniques are present within the Star Trek universe, the consideration of the far reaches of biological enhancement is most often regarded as a cautionary tale.
From sailing ships to star ships, the human animal has always sought a far horizon, and so it bears asking, how does Star Trek regard that primary mode of our exploration, that first vessel—ourselves? From Lt. Reginald Barclay’s merger with the Enterprise D’s computer to the ever-present threat of the Borg, the spectre of the Ship of Theseus—the age-old question of “how much can I replace before I am no longer myself”—hangs over the whole of the Trek Canon. But, in the end, it must be remembered that our ships are just our limbs extended to the sea and the stars.
