Alteration of Humanity in Neuromancer

Alteration of Humanity in Neuromancer

As technology gets more advanced, the overarching fear of posthumanity and technological dependence becomes more and more prevalent.  This fear is justified by the notion that mind-invasion[1] and body invasion (defined in the following paragraph) will dismantle the human sense of self, and thereby make the human something inconceivably different.  At the core is the underlying belief that one is not human if their body is constructed using inorganic, technological modifiers.  However, the physical body is by no means the essence of humanity; the idea of the physical body is. 

            For example, body invasion includes “…cyborg prostheses as well as genetic engineering and cosmetic surgery..” (Foster i).  Although each of these modifications enhances the human physical form, the alteration of the human body (and the negativity associated with the word “invasion”) causes a reaction of extreme distaste.  However, there is a disconnect in our disgust with body modification/alteration; humans alter themselves constantly, whether it be through plastic surgery, piercings, tattoos, or even prosthetic limbs to replace lost ones.  Yet, even the most ardent supporters of the previous alterations would argue that body invasion produces something that is not human.  This inconsistency is a result of the subconscious belief that the human body is an object purposed to serve, and thus be controlled by the sentience inside.  Therefore, what makes one human could be the existence of sentience, characteristics, and memories within the physical body. 

            Still, this conclusion would be a fallacy in that the existence of sentience, characteristics, and memories is not restricted to humans.  As Hayles[2] argues, “embodiment in a biological substrate is…an accident of history rather than an inevitability of life,” (Hayles 2) meaning that the information that (supposedly) differentiates between human and non-human can be contained in something that is not biological.  However, there is one piece of information, possessed by the vast majority of humanity, which does make one human: one’s belief that he is human. 

            Now that we have established the true quality that distinguishes between human and non-human, we can decipher the mass of nova and lingo that is William Gibson’s Neuromancer.  In Neuromancer, the fear of human alteration previously mentioned is nowhere to be found.  In place of this fear is a constant emphasis on the idea that humans and technology are meant to be in cooperation.  Through a transition from transhumanity into posthumanity and technological singularity that encompasses the whole novel, Gibson argues that the merging of human and technology should not be seen in a negative light; it should be accepted as an inevitability.  Furthermore, Gibson uses linguistic techniques to muddle the distinction between human and technology and further persuade us to drop the negative connotations associated with body and mind invasion.       

            To set the foundation for his argument, Gibson tells us that “the sky above the port was the color of television tuned to a dead channel”(1).  While the sky could have been described as dreary, cloudy, or even just grey, Gibson chooses to portray the sky (something natural) using a television (something technological).  Gibson does this in order to immediately communicate that technology coupled with the natural world is a universal that is seldom challenged.

            In order to additionally present the idea that humans and technology are meant to merge, Gibson uses carefully chosen diction to cast off the negative connotations of “body invasion”: After using a psychoactive substance, Case’s teeth are described as “tuning forks, each one pitch-perfect and clear as ethanol,” his bones as “chromed and polished” “beneath [a] hazy envelope of flesh,” his joints as being “lubricated with a film of silicone,” and his head rushes as “spheres of purest crystal, expanding…”(154).  On the simplest level, Gibson is showing us that technology is so related to natural factors that aspects of one are frequently used to describe the other.  But delving deeper, we can see that he is using terms which would usually be used to describe a piece of technology that is of the highest quality.  By describing biological factors in flawless, technological terms, Gibson means to convey the idea that body invasion is not negative.  Instead, body invasion is the containment of information inside a more functional, less obsolete vessel.         

            In addition to blurring the boundary between technology and human, Gibson uses the Rastafarian “Dub” to suggest that human and technological development are interrelated:

“As they worked, Case gradually became aware of the music that pulsed constantly through the cluster.  It was called Dub, a sensuous mosaic cooked from vast libraries of digitalized pop; it was worship, Molly said, and a sense of community” (104).      

As Case informs us, Dub has a pulsing beat that travels around physical obstacles and overpowers other noise.  To do what Case is describing, the frequency would require a sin wave with a slower oscillation (a longer wavelength), which means that the foundation of the music is made up of bass.  The pulsing beat, coupled with the “digitalized pop” is enough information for me to infer that this music is comparable to what we know as techno. 

            In order to truly understand the significance of the Dub, we have to define techno.  Rhythmically, techno usually has a time signature of 4/4, and is created using a drum machine.  Melodically, techno uses different synthesized and sampled sounds that are overdubbed to create a multi-track arrangement.  The composition of techno can be done in a studio, but is more frequently (and easily) done on a single laptop with composition software.  Here is the similarity between techno and the Rastafarian Dub: both are “cooked from vast libraries” (104) of synthesized and sampled sounds, and both are composed (or “cooked”) by humans.  Since music is a form of human artistic expression, both techno and Dub include human emotion within the layers of technologically enhanced (or produced) sound.  One might even go so far as to say that the personality of the composer influences the composition, and is therefore represented within the end product.  Through the Dub, Gibson shows us that even something as human as musical expression goes hand in hand with technology, and further argues that transhumanity and posthumanity are imminent. 

            After sufficiently displaying the inevitable technological collaboration with humanity, Gibson provides us with a new perspective on transhumanity: the artificial intelligence (AI) Neuromancer.  Towards the end of the novel, Neuromancer reveals that “[it needs] no mask to speak with [Case].  …[Neuromancer creates its] own personality.  Personality is [Neuromancer’s] medium” (259).  Neuromancer’s development of a personality brings into question the notion that genuine personality is an inherently human characteristic.  Personality is usually considered to be the combination of characteristics and qualities, influenced by shared experiences with others, which form one’s character.  In other words, one’s personality is just information (or programming) that influences how one behaves.  Since personality is just information, personality is arguably not isolated to humans.  The previous definition can be applied to AI’s in a very similar way.  While a human gathers information from different experiences to develop the characteristics that make up his/her personality, an AI has the ability to construct a personality using the experiences and characteristics of humans.  Gibson proves this when he shows us that “[Neuromancer has] got Riviera’s eyes…but not his craziness.  Because [the eyes] are beautiful to [Neuromancer]” (259).  By manifesting Riviera’s eyes for no reason other than their beauty, Neuromancer is expressing that the eyes help define who It (thinks?) It is. 

            Gibson goes on to provide us with a different understanding of the concept of mind invasion by representing Neuromancer’s development of a personality as a kind of reverse mind-invasion.  Usually, mind-invasion is considered to be the alteration of human by means of technology, leaving something that is not truly human.  In an effort to cast off the negative connotations associated with mind-invasion, Gibson switches the roles of the invader and the invaded.  Instead of a sense of humanity being altered by technology, the AI equivalent is altered by humanity.  This reverse mind-invasion is instantiated by Neuromancer’s adoption of Riviera’s eyes “because [they’re] beautiful…” (259).  By exhibiting Riviera’s eyes for no reason other than partiality to their beauty, Neuromancer effectively alters itself from a form of pure data to a more materialized, tangible entity.             

            Indeed some will argue that Neuromancer was simply displaying itself as a human because Case is more likely to be comfortable consorting with another human than with an inconceivable mass of data.  However, these troublemakers would be wrong in that they are confusing Neuromancer with Wintermute.  While it is true that both AIs portrayed themselves as human, their reasons for doing so are vastly different.  Wintermute assumes the form of someone taken from Case’s memories (usually the Finn) in order to be a more effective medium.  This AI is more like an actor with a rehearsed role; it can fool you into thinking of it human terms, but really, it has a scripted personality.  Opposite of Wintermute, Neuromancer picks and chooses from different characteristics and qualities of humans, and compiles them to form his own unique personality. 

            Towards the end of Neuromancer, we see that Case has become a true part of the Matrix[3].  We know this because the Matrix has become “the sum total of the works, the whole show” (269).  We also know that this “sum total” is not isolated to the matrix, because Case is still inside the matrix, but did not jack in:

“… punching himself past the scarlet tiers of the Eastern Seaboard Fission Authority, he saw three figures, tiny, impossible, who stood at the very edge of one of the cast steps of data.  Small as they were, he could make out the boy’s grin, his pink gums, the glitter of the long gray eyes that had been Riviera’s.  Linda still wore his jacket…but the third figure was himself” (271). 

We know that the Eastern Seaboard Fission Authority is the “stepped scarlet pyramid…burning beyond the green cubes of Mitsubishi Bank of America,” (52) a location within the matrix that we were comprised of during Case’s involvement with the Panther Moderns.  We also know that both Riviera and Linda are dead, but have been presented as features within Neuromancer’s personality in the past; they may live on as pure information contained by this new super-intelligence.  Lastly, Case sees himself as the third figure, which (I believe) makes sense, because the Matrix has become the “sum total of the works,” meaning everything in existence. 

            At the beginning of Neuromancer, Case was presented as transhuman.  He used, and even interacted with the matrix, but was not truly a part of it.  By the end, Case was not only posthuman, but was part of a technological singularity.  Through this transformation from transhumanity to and beyond posthumanity, Gibson has shown us that the ability to possess personality and sentience is not a trait forever isolated to humanity; the fact that we possess this ability at all is just a lucky coincidence.  Moreover, by depicting Case’s merge with the Matrix, Gibson has shown us that the assimilation of humanity and technology is inevitable.                                                                                

Works Cited

1.      Gibson, William. Neuromancer. New York: Ace, 1984. Print.

2.      Hayles, N. Katherine. How We Became Posthuman: Virtual Bodies in Cybernetics, Literature, and Informatics. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago, 1999. Print.

3.      Foster, Thomas. "Introduction: Cyberpunk's Posthuman Afterlife." The Souls of Cyberfolk: Posthumanism as Vernacular Theory. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 2005. Print.

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[1] “…direct human-computer interfaces, artificial intelligence, and the manipulation of brain chemistry and neural structures” (Foster i).

[2] N. Katherine Hayles is a postmodern literary critic.  She is known for her work in the fields of science, literature, American literature, and electronic literature.  She teaches literature at Duke University. 

[3] I will be referring to the super-intelligence that is Wintermute and Neuromancer combined as Matrix (note the capital “M”).  “The Matrix” (Wintermute + Neuromancer) is not to be confused with “the matrix” (cyberspace).