Beyond the Cyborg: Adventures with Donna Haraway

1. To date, there has been only one substantial study of Haraway, Joseph Schneider’s Donna Haraway: Live Theory (2005)—an introductory overview which is part of the Continuum Live Theory series. The only other work (apart from dissertations) with Haraway as its sole subject is the short study by George Myerson, Donna Haraway and GM Foods (2001) Other important resources on Haraway are Thyrza Goodeve’s interview (Haraway and Goodeve 2000), and the oral history published by UC Santa Cruz, Edges and Ecotones: The Worlds of Donna Haraway at UCSC (Reti 2007).

2. Sofoulis, a graduate student of Haraway’s cited in the Manifesto, is one of the few to assess the critical impact of the cyborg; see Sofoulis 2003.

3. See Ihde and Selinger 2003:164 and our discussion of this in chapter 4.

4. King talks revealingly of the tensions between her own approach to teaching feminist theory and the more mainstream (and much simpler) model of understanding that emphasizes “a history of influential persons and texts and the transmission of exemplary classifications of different kinds of feminist theories, intended to give students a broad overview and some ways of distinguishing theories from one another, ways of valuing some over others” (King 2001:94–95). See also Thrift 2006, discussed further in this chapter.

5. Here, as elsewhere, Haraway notes how her institutional positioning has formed such an important context for the work she has been able to do as an academic working in the interdisciplinary History of Consciousness Program at the University of California at Santa Cruz. Invited to occupy one of the first officially recognized academic jobs in feminist theory, Haraway has worked at the Hist-Con program since 1980 and credits it as a place that encouraged and enabled moving beyond the sorts of divisions she talks of here (Haraway and Goodeve 2000:46; Schneider 2005:11–12).

6. See the conversation about notions of criticality and argument in How Like a Leaf, in which Haraway expresses her distaste for the model where “critical” equals argument or a “negative criticality” that she sees as “rooted in a fear of embracing something with all of its messiness and dirtiness and imperfection” (Haraway and Goodeve 2000:111–12).

7. Annika Thiem, Unbecoming Subjects: Judith Butler, Moral Philosophy, and Critical Responsibility (New York: Fordham University Press, 2008); Samuel Allen Chambers and Terrell Carver, Judith Butler and Political Theory: Troubling Politics (New York: Routledge, 2008); Terrell Carver and Samuel Allen Chambers, Judith Butler’s Precarious Politics: Critical Encounters (New York: Routledge, 2008); Gill Jagger, Judith Butler: Sexual Politics, Social Change, and the Power of the Performative (New York: Routledge, 2008); Elena Loizidou, Judith Butler: Ethics, Law, Politics (New York: Routledge, 2007); Moya Lloyd, Judith Butler: From Norms to Politics (Malden, MA: Polity, 2007); Vicki Kirby, Judith Butler: Live Theory (New York: Continuum, 2006); Ellen T Armour; Susan M. St. Ville, Bodily Citations: Religion and Judith Butler (New York: Columbia University Press, 2006); Margaret Sönser Breen and Warren J Blumenfeld, Butler Matters: Judith Butler’s Impact on Feminist and Queer Studies (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005); Sara Salih, Judith Butler (New York: Routledge, 2002).

8. Stephen Morton, Gayatri Spivak: Ethics, Subalternity, and the Critique of Postcolonial Reason (Cambridge: Polity, 2007); Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak and Sarah Harasym, The Post-colonial Critic: Interviews, Strategies, Dialogues (New York: Routledge, 1990); Mark Sanders, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak: Live Theory (New York: Continuum, 2006).

1. We refer here to Katie King’s exemplary tracing of U.S. feminism’s relations to the activism and writing of women of color in Theory in Its Feminist Travels. A one-time grad student of Haraway’s, King’s work on how exactly theory and theories become “objects of knowledge” have been invaluable to our thinking, as has her insistence on the importance of one’s location and situatededness on our apprehension of “theory”: “we produce the things we know, that’s how we come to know them” (King 1994:xv).

2. While we would agree with much of the sentiment of Ahmed’s concern, after this particular comment she goes on to accuse Karen Barad of participating in such a return to old binaries—a critique that is, in our view, misplaced—see points made in response to Ahmed by Davis (Davis 2009:73–74).

3. A similar argument has of course been put for the female “subject.” Carol Mason argues that there “is much slippage between the ideas of ‘the Body’ and ‘the self’ as historical, hence denaturalized and political ‘constructs’”; she gives as an example arguments about abortion in the sixties, seventies, and eighties, when radical feminist interrogations “of the political subject gave way to liberal feminist’s protection of the political body” (Mason 1995:236).

4. See also Hird 2004b; Kirby 1997; Wilson 1998; Grebowicz 2005.

5. Take the ubiquitous Rabbit Vibrator (made famous by Sex and the City), which has a soft little vibrating animal attachment working to stimulate the clitoris while the penis-shaped shaft does the work of penetration. The animals depicted are almost exclusively rabbits (hence the name) and dolphins, with occasional appearances by mice and seahorses. These products are marketed (apparently with great success) exclusively to women, arguably to sexually self-aware, adventurous, perhaps even queer or “fluid” women. The animals in play are sexy (rabbits and dolphins) or diminutive (mice and seahorses), and note the absence of any figures of masculine virility, like dogs or horses. What exactly is happening here? This is one example of a cultural phenomenon that Adams’s particular way of reading the intersection of women and animals in pop culture does not help us to analyze robustly (though, to be fair, her own analysis is concerned exclusively with the welfare of material animals, not material-semiotic puzzles like this one).

6. This statement could easily be applied to Butler’s later series, Parable of the Sower (1995), which interrogates that other grand narrative of Western patriarchy—religion—converting it into a postmodern litany, “God is Change,” whose originator/prophet is a young African American woman.

7. In a rather extreme example (which also misreads Haraway as an antirealist hyperconstructivist), Carol Stabile fixes on the specter of ‘biological determinism’ in Butler’s work, figuring the theme of survival characterizing many of her novels as an endorsement of the ‘inevitability of the postmodern condition’ (Stabile 1994:40). Stabile questions whether Butler’s “survivalist narratives” can “constitute new, and more desirable, relationships to nature, environments, and ultimately technoculture,” concluding that “it seems unlikely that a vision based on capitulation and cooperation can aid feminist theory in the task of reconfiguring its relation to technoscience” (Stabile 1994:44). See also Hoda Zaki’s article “Utopia, Dystopia and Ideology in the Science Fiction of Octavia Butler” (1990) and Michelle Green’s chapter ‘There Goes the Neighbourhood’ (1994).

8. As Rose writes, “Butler’s Lilith and her son Akin are located in a feminist and postcolonial reading of the embryology and genetics of the late twentieth century, set in a post-holocaust world” (Rose 1994:227).

1. For an introduction to standpoint theory, see Sandra Harding’s The Feminist Standpoint Theory Reader: Intellectual and Political Controversies (2004). In particular, see Harding’s introduction and the first section of the book, called “The Logic of a Standpoint,” which includes essays by other representative figures in standpoint theory, such as Nancy M. Hartsock, Donna Haraway, and Patricia Hill Collins.

2. Creager (Creager, Lunbeck, and Schiebinger 2001:287), citing Helen E. Longino, “In Search of Feminist Epistemology,” Monist 77, no. 4 (1994), 472–85.

3. See Haraway 2008:16–17; and Lyotard’s “Introduction” to The Inhuman (Lyotard 1991b)

4. “Nor can experience be allowed simply to appear as endlessly plural and unchallengeable, as if self-evident, readily available when we look ‘inside’ ourselves, and only one’s own, or only one group’s. Experience is a crucial product and means of women’s movement; we must struggle over the terms of its articulation” (Haraway 1991c:109).

5. See, for instance, Juan Carlos Gómez, “Are Apes Persons? The Case for Primate Intersubjectivity” (2006); and Mary Midgley, “Is a Dolphin a Person?” (2006:64).

6. The animate/inanimate distinction quickly becomes obsolete, as we move away from characterizations of beings in terms of “anima,” a departure ultimately required by both Haraway’s and Latour’s work.

1. The authors use this word in a Marxist sense. For our discussion of the terms and the tensions in feminism’s relation to materialism, see chapter 2.

2. Unlike monsters, gods and founding heroes in mythology are not “of woman born.” On the contrary, as Rosi Braidotti writes, one of the signs of a god’s divinity is “his ability, through subterfuges such as immaculate conceptions and other tricks, to short-circuit the orifice through which most human beings pop into the spatio-temporal realm of existence” (Braidotti 1994:84). Monstrous births, on the other hand, especially by the time of the Baroque, result from specific “immoral” sexual practices by the mother, so that “all sexual practices other than those leading to healthy reproduction are suspected to be conducive to monstrous events.” Not only immoral intercourse, but specific foods, weather conditions, and the woman’s wanton imagination could result in monsters. The mother had the power of producing a monstrous child if she thought about evil things during intercourse, dreamed intensely, or even looked at an “evil-looking” creature (Braidotti 1994:85–86). Well into the nineteenth century, the first famous conjoined twins in modern history, Chang and Eng Bunker (the original “Siamese twins”) were denied entry into France because officials feared that pregnant women who so much as witnessed their traveling act would themselves bear conjoined twins (http://www.blueridgecountry.com/archive/a-hyphenated-life.html). “It is as if the mother, as a desiring agent, has the power to undo the work of legitimate procreation through the sheer force of her imagination” (Braidotti 1994:86). Since, according to this logic, the monstrous birth is the direct result of the exercise of this power, it is understood that the power ought not to be exercised.

3. “The will to be against really needs a body that is completely incapable of submitting to command. It needs a body that is incapable of adapting to family life, to factory discipline, to the regulations of the traditional sex life, and so forth. (If you find your body refusing these “normal” modes of life, don’t despair—realize your gift!)” (Hardt and Negri 2000:216).

4. For an excellent survey of feminist debate in this area, see chapter 4 of Jana Sawicki’s Disciplining Foucault: Feminism, Power, and the Body (1991).

5. Braidotti’s later work moves closer to Haraway’s understanding of techno-science, see, for example, “Posthuman, All Too Human: Towards a New Process Ontology” (2006).

6. See chapter 4 of Jana Sawicki’s Disciplining Foucault: Feminism, Power, and the Body (1991).

7. This criticism is significant in the case of feminist epistemologists, like Longino, Solomon, and Harding, who understand themselves to have serious interests in the role of dissent and heterogeneity, which they take to be features of a scientific pluralism (see previous chapter).

8. I thank John Mullarkey for this insight.

1. When Species Meet refers again to Mitchison’s Memoirs, with its “sentient critters” and “several curious progeny,” as well as Suzette Haden Elgin’s Native Tongue series. More detail on this text is given in a footnote (where much of Haraway’s SF lives) acknowledging the importance of language communication and species contact around which the books revolve. Although not as foregrounded as in her previous work, Haraway’s SF sensibility continues to interrupt, impose on, and complicate the various stories she tells of companion species. The trickster Tiptree surfaces briefly—noted for her short sojourn into chicken farming, which leads Haraway to ponder “Did the luxuriating brutalities of industrial chicken production that took off in the 1950s fuel any of Tiptree’s many dark alien biological stories?” (Haraway 2008:273). And in the notes Haraway points us to some of Tiptree’s SF that “toyed mercilessly with species, alternation of generations, reproduction, infection, gender, genre, and many kinds of genocide” (272). She notes in particular the stories “The Last Flight of Dr. Ain” and (writing as Racoona Sheldon) “Morality Meat.” Haraway also refers to the recent biography of Tiptree by Julie Phillips (Haraway 2008:385, TKn20, n22).

2. For more on Mitchison’s unusual life and work, see Susan Squier’s afterword in Solution Three (Mitchison 1995 [1975]); Among You Taking Notes … : The Wartime Diary of Naomi Mitchison, 1939–1945 (Mitchison and Sheridan 1985); and Lesley Hall’s Naomi Mitchison: A Profile of Her Life and Work (Hall 2007).

1. The key texts on feminist SF include Lefanu 1988; Barr 1987; Roberts 1993; Wolmark 1993; and Donawerth 1997. For more recent cultural histories see Larbalestier Atteber 2002; Yaszek 2008; and Merrick 2009.

2.. See, for example, the chapters by SF authors Timmi Duchamp, Nancy Kress and Nicola Griffith in Grebowicz 2007.

3. Others examples from feminist technoscience studies include de Lauretis’s “Signs of Wo/ander” (1990), Hayles’s “The Life Cycle of Cyborgs” (1993), Balsamo’s Technologies of the Gendered Body: Reading Cyborg Women (1996), and Springer’s Electronic Eros: Bodies and Desire in the Postindustrial Age (1996). For a fuller account of the engagement between such critics and feminist SF, see Merrick 2009, chapters 6 and 7.

4. See some of the work on feminism and utopia that refers to SF. Diane Crowder, for example, criticized authors Sally Miller Gearhart and James Tiptree (“[l]ike Gilman and Lane before them”) for choosing to “eliminate men in fantastic ways that do not satisfy our need for a concrete blueprint for action” (Crowder 1993:239–44); Anne K. Mellor concludes that all-female worlds portrayed in feminist SF represent a transparent desire for separatism (Mellor 1982: 245).

5. Samuel Delany was the first to point out this link and to regret its “forgetting” by SF cyberpunks and their champions; see Tatsumi 1988. See also Gomoll 1986–87; Sofoulis 2003; and Merrick 2009.

6. There are a number of reasons for the predominance of cyborg theorizing in SF criticism. First, unlike much of Haraway’s other work, the cyborg figure offered an easily transferable critical apparatus that had powerful resonances with critical readings of cyberpunk, feminist critiques of the same, and the emerging literary and critical focus on the “posthuman.” The focus on technosocial relations seemed self-evidently important, given our saturation within both computer and biotechnologies. However, the bias toward the cyborg could also be seen as leftover of a longer history wherein the science of science fiction is most often translated in/as technology (see Mathur 2004:120–21).

7. See, for example, Zaki 1990. For a more complex reading of Xenogenesis that draws on Haraway’s cyborg precisely for its emphasis on noninnocent origin stories and the importance of dialogic interactions between different kinds of origin stories, see Peppers 1995.

8. However, like some other critics, Haraway does comment on the reinforcement of heterosexuality evident in Butler’s work: “Octavia Butler is a very frustrating writer in some ways, because she constantly reproduces heterosexuality even in her poly-gendered species” (Penley and Ross 1990:16).

9. It is possible here that Haraway is referencing or (as Russ does in The Female Man,) prefiguring some of the responses to her argument in Primate Visions from those working in the sciences. Compare her words here with this particularly vitriolic review of Primate Visions (not published until 1991): “This is a book that systematically distorts and selects historical evidence; but that is not a criticism, because its author thinks that all interpretations are biased, and she regards it as her duty to pick and choose her facts to favor her own brand of politics” (Cartmill 1990:67).

10. She continues “Finally, it’s clear that the Hero does not look well in this bag. He needs a stage or a pedestal or a pinnacle. You put him in a bag and he looks like a rabbit, like a potato” (Le Guin 1992 [1986]:169).

11. See Vint’s succinct yet comprehensive review of Haraway’s work for the journal Science Fiction Film and Television (2008a).

12. Haraway notes a number of more recent SF works not referred to earlier in the notes of When Species Meet (Haraway 2008), and in an e-mail conversation confirmed she still read SF, including Gwyneth Jones’s Life.

13. Indeed, a reading of Tepper against Haraway’s recent work would be very enlightening, despite Tepper’s heavy-handed stance toward human interference and often didactic use of “Mother Earth” to right the balance. One of her most interesting books in this regard is The Family Tree (1998). See also Joan Gordon on Tepper’s Six Moon Dance in the SFS special issue “On Animals and SF” (Gordon 2008).

14. See Czerneda’s Web shifter series and Species Imperative series, in particular, and Traviss’s Wess’Har Wars. On Traviss, see also Vint’s 2006 review at Strange Horizons: “Unlike Tepper … Traviss doesn’t tend toward the sentimental or the spiritual. Her characters confront head-on the difficult moral choices that result when one acknowledges the sentience of other species and recognizes that the world is a complicated set of social relations among species, not a resource for human needs. While Tepper’s books tend to conclude with some sort of abstract enlightenment which may lead to a better world, Traviss’s work remains firmly entrenched in material, political struggle, and conflicts are resolved only through painful compromise and often sacrifice” (Vint 2006).

15. Resembling a blue tear-shaped blob in their natural form, “the web” is both a singular entity and a collection of six semi-individuals. Their purpose in life is to study and preserve the biology and cultures of all other races, which they share amongst themselves by “assimilating”: sharing information, experience, and genetic knowledge by literally ingesting each others’ bodies and mass. The youngest, Esen, describes one such assimilation: “I sensed their mouths form and open wide, tooth ridges sharp and uneven. They closed in and began to feed” (Beholder’s Eye, 18). Their ability to take on any form once “tasted” in their shared collective memory allows Czerneda endless inventiveness and fun in exploring the multitudinous forms, passions, delights, and strange motivations of a variety of species, as Esen takes on different bodies and biologies according to need. In sympathy with companion species, Esen’s closest friend and adopted kin is a human male; their kinship survives every transformation of body and self as Esen changes races, species, sex, and sexual behaviors. Neither one nor six, member of no family but a queered cross-species kinship, the being Esen cannot be conceived of as anything but a material-semiotic assemblage.

1. In everything I write about companion species, I am instructed by Anna Tsing’s “Unruly Edges: Mushrooms as Companion Species” (copyright © 2006), available at http://tsingmushrooms.blogspot.com.au/. In this wonderful short paper, without the deceptive comforts of human exceptionalism, Tsing succeeds both in telling world history from the point of view of fungal associates and also in rewriting Friedrich Engels, The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State (1972). Tsing’s is a tale of speculative fabulation, an SF genre crucial to feminist theory. She and I are in a relation of reciprocal induction, that fundamental evolutionary-ecological-developmental worlding process that is basic to all becoming-with (see Gilbert, Rader, and Epel 2008).

2. Deborah Bird Rose, Reports from a Wild Country: Ethics for Decolonization (2005) taught me that recuperation, not reconciliation or restoration, is what is needed and maybe just possible.

3. Le Guin’s essay (1992 [1986]) shaped my thinking about narrative in evolutionary theory and of the figure of woman the gatherer; see Haraway, Primate Visions (1989b). Le Guin learned about the Carrier Bag Theory of Evolution from Elizabeth Fisher (1980) in that period of large, brave, speculative, worldly stories that burned in feminist theory in the 1970s and 1980s. Like speculative fabulation, speculative feminism was, and is, an SF practice.

4. My guide with and through SF, my “mystra,” here is Joshua (Sha) LaBare, “Farfetchings: On and In the SF Mode,” Ph.D. diss., History of Consciousness Department, University of California at Santa Cruz, spring 2010. (LaBare’s term mystra begins to accrue meanings on p. 17). LaBare argues that SF is not fundamentally a genre, even in the extended sense that includes film, comics, and much else besides the printed book or magazine. The SF mode is, rather, a mode of attention, a theory of history, and a practice of worlding. He writes, “What I call the ‘sf mode’ offers one way of focusing that attention, of imagining and designing alternatives to the world that is, alas, the case” (1). LaBare suggests that the SF mode pays attention to the “conceivable, possible, inexorable, plausible, and logical” (27). One of his principal mystras is Ursula Le Guin, especially in the lure of her understanding of “talking backwards” in the postapocalyptic Northern Californian SF novel Always Coming Home (1985). Reading Parable of the Sower together with Always Coming Home is a good way for coastal travelers to fill the carrier bag for recuperative terraforming before the apocalypse instead of just afterward. Instructed in this SF mode, perhaps human people and earth others can avert inexorable disaster and plant the conceivable germ of possibility for multispecies, multiplacetime recuperation before it is too late.

5. Myrmex is the Greek word for ant, and one story has it that an Attic maiden named Myrmex annoyed Athena by claiming the invention of the plough as the maiden’s own and so was turned into an ant by the goddess. Me, judging from the tunnels ants dig all over the world and comparing that to Athena’s more sky-looking and heady credentials, I think Myrmex probably had the stronger claim to having authored the plough. Breaking out of daddy’s brain is really not the same as tunneling and runneling in the earth, whether one is goddess, woman, or ant. For actual ants, one could not do better than Deborah M. Gordon, Ants at Work: How an Insect Society is Organized (2000), Ant Encounters: Interaction Networks and Colony Behavior (2010), and “Control Without Hierarchy” (2007): 143. One might consult Bert Hölldobler and E. O. Wilson, The Superorganism: The Beauty, Elegance, and Strangeness of Insect Societies (2009) and The Ants (1990). Based on her studies of developing behavior in harvester ant colonies in the Arizona desert, and evidence that individual ants switch tasks over their lifetimes, Gordon has been a critic of Wilson’s emphasis on rigidly determined ant behavior. For me, Wilson is the heroic Athena to Gordon’s inventive attic maid Myrmex with a seedbag and a digging tool. To get started with acacias, go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acacia and then “Biology of Acacia, Advances in Legume Systematics, Series Part 11” (2003), special issue of Australian Systematic Botany 16 (1), http://www.publish.csiro.au/issue/650.htm. Lest one think all the world-building action is an ant story, check out Adam Mann, Termites Help Build Savannah Societies (2010).

6. See, for example, Gilbert, Rader, and Epel 2008; Gilbert et al. 2010; McFall-Ngai 1998, 2002; and Hird 2009. On symbiogenesis as the driver of evolutionary change, see Margulis and Sagan 2002.

7. See the Web site of the Global Invasive Species Program for information about troublesome Australian acacias in South America and South Africa, http://www.gisp.org/casestudies/showcasestudy.asp?id=311&MyMenuItem=casestudies&worldmap=&country= and http://www.gisp.org/casestudies/showcasestudy.asp?id=62&MyMenuItem=casestudies&worldmap=&country=, accessed June 6, 2010. Several acacia species, especially the coastal wattle Acacia cyclops, worry conservationists in California. All of these disputed travelers teach us to stay with the multispecies trouble that motivates most of my work and play these days.

8. Bonfante and Anca 2009. This paper draws our attention to the many-faceted practices of communication among members of multispecies consortia. As the abstract summarizes, “Release of active molecules, including volatiles, and physical contact among the partners seem important for the establishment of the bacteria/mycorrhizal fungus/plant network. The potential involvement of quorum sensing and Type III secretion systems is discussed, even if the exact nature of the complex interspecies/interphylum interactions remains unclear.”

9. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acacia, accessed June 6, 2010. Heil et al. 2004.

10. David Attenborough, Life in the Undergrowth, http://www.bbc.co.uk/sn/tvradio/programmes/lifeintheundergrowth/prog_summary.shtml; and Alison Ross, “Devilish Ants Control the Garden,” BBC News, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/4269544.stm, both accessed June 6, 2010.

11. My debts to Deborah Bird Rose are obvious here and throughout this essay. See especially her development of the idea of double death in “What if the Angel of History Were a Dog?” (2006). Double death signifies the killing of ongoingness and the blasting of generations. In her Reports from a Wild Country Rose teaches me about Aboriginal ways of crafting responsibility, inhabiting time, and the need for recuperation.

1. Journal and author impact factors and citation data are biased toward the sciences, as in most cases data is taken solely from journal citations. The most commonly used, the ISI Web of Science, focuses only on journals (whereas in the humanities books and book chapters are key publication venues) and also does not list many arts, humanities, and social science journals. Google Scholar is more extensive, but as yet is still unreliable and cannot be searched in the way that WOS or Scopus can. The software Publish or Perish uses Google Scholar to provide some citation data, mainly h-indexes.

2. The h-index was developed by physicist Jorge E. Hirsch in a 2005 paper; see Harzing (2008b), who provides a succinct overview and comparison with other measures of academic impact. Harzing is the developer of the program Publish or Perish, which allows analysis of citation data gathered from Google Scholar. Harzing argues that Google Scholar, while far from complete, presents a more complete picture of an authors citations and h-index than ISI Web of Science (or the other more recent alternative, Scopus; Harzing 2008a) see also Meho and Yang 2007.

3. The following h-index numbers were calculated using the software Publish or Perish, which works from data taken from Google Scholar (and not ISI’s Web of Knowledge. Harzing, A.W. (2010) Publish or Perish, version 2.8.3644 (data as at 15 January 2010). Harzing reports that even though these databases produce different numbers of citations, the h-indexes are usually comparable.

4. Interestingly a similar picture holds for well-known science critics—Stephen J Gould scores 89, with Sandra Hrdy at 30, and Lynne Margulis at 31.

5. And although these bibliometric data are slanted toward English-language and American/UK journals, it appears that, in terms of philosophy at least, influence outside the English-speaking centers does have a marked impact on this influence. Those philosophers like Deleuze, Lyotard, and Foucault all have significant portions of their citations in other European languages. In contrast, Haraway’s work has a much smaller diffusion outside of English: 65 percent of books and theses referring to her work are in English, with the next highest figure being Norwegian with 5 percent.

6. The information following on citation data continues to use ISI despite these limitations primarily because at present POP and Google Scholar do not allow for more sophisticated analysis of the results, whereas WOS categorizes the data in terms of subject area, years cited, journal names, and author names.

7. Some of the amusing misprints of titles which make calculating accurate citations records so difficult include the following: citations referring to Simians, Cyborgs, and Women include the following “variations” and errors: simians, simlans, sinfians, sintians, sirnians; Simians syborgs and women; and simians Vyborgs and women (ISI Web of Science).

8. Thus, if an article incorrectly spells the article or journal name or gives the wrong year of publication, it will be listed as a citation to a different work. To clarify, when one calls up all of Haraway’s articles in order to track citations, each particular instance of the Manifesto, for example, may have dozens of entries due to such errors, even before taking reprints into account. One then has to manually collect together all these references. In the case of the Cyborg Manifesto, this means one has to know which journals have reprinted the article, what edited collections include it, and so forth. Due to these errors, and the numbers of people who may be citing the Simians or Haraway Reader version of the Manifesto, it is in fact impossible to gain a complete picture of the citation pattern for the Cyborg Manifesto.

9. In contrast, a similar search of Google scholar’s data, covers a much better range of journals in the humanities as well as books and chapters. However the tool Publish or Perish cannot provide the same level of detailed analysis by journal name, etc. In the following, where possible we provide comparisons to the Google Scholar data obtained through Publish or Perish (POP).

10. Web of Science allows analysis in terms of number of fields, including “subject area.” This figures are fuzzy, as of course a journal categorized primarily as “sociology” may also be a feminist journal or vice versa. Also it is not clear how these subject areas are defined.

11. The detailed breakdown is geography journals 13 percent (557 articles), sociology 11 percent (452 articles), women’s studies 10 percent (415 articles), history and philosophy of science 6 percent (256 articles), environmental studies 6 percent (250).

12. The full list of the top twenty journals citing her work are Environment and Planning D-Society and Space, 89; Signs, 76; Social Studies of Science, 64; Theory Culture and Society, 60; Women’s Studies International Forum, 56; Environment and Planning A, 52; Progress in Human Geography, 51; Science, Technology and Human Values, 51; Science-Fiction Studies, 48; European Journal of Women’s Studies, 45; Geoforum, 44; Cultural Anthropology, 41; Antipode, 39; Feminism and Psychology, 39; American Anthropologist, 36; Annals of yhe Association of American Geographers, 34; Annual Review of Anthropology, 33; Feminist Studies, 33; Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers, 33; American Ethnologist, 31.

13. A caveat to this figure is that the feminist philosophy journal Hypatia does not appear on the WOS results for Haraway in terms of journal titles, suggesting it is one of the journals not indexed by ISI. A search for Haraway in Hypatia’s back issues on Project Muse gives 60 articles, placing Hypatia as an equal fourth among journals most likely to cite Haraway.

14. For example, Politics and the Life Sciences (9), Science in Context (8), Radical Science (seven articles), International Journal of Science Education (6), Interdisciplinary Science Reviews (5), Science Education (5), Social Science and Medicine (30), and Journal of Research in Science Teaching (9).

15. The following citation image data was obtained from ISI Web of Science, last retrieved on 16 March 2010. As such, it provides only Haraway’s citation image based on journal publications. There are, however, few authors who would cite Haraway primarily in books without at least some presence in journals in their field. The following then are likely to be conservative estimates, as authors such as Braidotti and Birke have cited Haraway in various of their books and book chapters.

16. ISI shows twelve articles each by Lynda Birke and Rosi Braidotti citing Haraway; others regularly citing Haraway include John Law (11), Mike Michael (11), Arturo Escobar (10), Sandra Harding (9), Sarah Franklin (7), N. Katherine Hayles (6), Sue Rosser (6), and Bruno Latour (5). To provide a comparison, data from Google Scholar (which includes books and edited collections) returns 54 results for Braidotti citing Haraway (including a number of texts in LOTE) and 22 for Birke. Other scholars scoring highly in ISI also do so in Google Scholar, e.g., Law (37), Escobar (38), Lynch (14), Latour (30).

17. In comparison, until When Species Meet, Birke figured rarely in Haraway’s work. A joint article with Mike Michael is referenced in Modest_Witness, while in Species a number of works are referenced and she is thanked in the acknowledgments. This disparity adds another layer of complexity to citations and the extent to which they are guided by geographical and institutional location. While, as we note in chapter 1, Birke was central to a British genealogy of feminist science studies, she was not to the same extent part of the U.S. developments.

18. The full list of these authors is J. Cheney; G. Davies; S. Helmreich (8); K. Anderson; B. Braun; C. L. Briggs; M. S. Carolan; D. Demeritt; S. Franklin; S. Hinchliffe; C. B. Jensen; N. Krieger (7).

19. The top six journals of this set—with 5–6 articles each—are the following: Environmental Ethics, Science, Technology, and Human Values, Environment and Planning, Geoforum, Progress in Human Geography, Social Studies of Science, Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers.

20. There are twenty-two authors who cite Haraway in at least seven articles. Of this group the top subject areas are geography (21 percent), environmental studies (16 percent), history and philosophy of science (15 percent), anthropology (14 percent), sociology and women’s studies (both 8 percent). (Given that Hypatia did not appear to be indexed, a cross-reference showed that of these top authors only one—Harding—had published an additional two articles not picked up here, which is not sufficient to skew this spread.) The picture of journals is somewhat different (and influenced by the fact that TCS ran a special issue on Haraway’s work, with five articles in the one issue): Social Studies of Science (8 articles), TCS (8), Environment and Planning D (7), Science, Technology, and Human Values (7), Environmental Ethics (6), Society and Animals (6), WSIF (6).

21. We do not go into detail tracking this influence here.

22. Drawing on Web of Science data, out of 4,177 records of citation to Haraway’s work, 1,473 (35 percent) are directly to the Cyborg Manifesto (excluding any general references to simians; data as at 6 January 2010). An even stronger picture of bias emerges when looking at data from Google Scholar. (This data is more difficult to analyze and, as in Web of Science, the separate versions of each work must be collected together manually). POP returns 17, 672 cites for Haraway. Of these, 6865 (39 percent) are directly to the Manifesto (including a significant number of references to its Spanish, German, Italian, and other translations; data as of 15 January 2010).

23. Web of Science data shows “Situated Knowledges” as cited in 914 records or 22 percent; data as of 6 January 2010). POP returns 5,261 (30 percent) to Simians, Cyborgs, and Women; 2,401 (14 percent) for “Situated Knowledges”; 1,885 (11 percent) to Modest_Witness; and 1,623 (9 percent) to Primate Visions.

24. Out of the 1,473 records citing Manifesto in WOS, 187 are from women’s studies (13 percent), 168 from sociology (11 percent), 167 geography (11 percent), 111 anthropology (7 percent), 110 literature (7 percent). History and philosophy of science account for only 56 records, and Environmental Studies 68.

25. WOS returns 914 records of citations to “Situated Knowledges,” with 137 for seography, 136 for women’s studies, 106 sociology, 87 anthropology, 56 environmental studies, 53 education, 43 history and philosophy of science.

26. WOS returns only 125 cites to “Promises of Monsters,” with 27 in geography, 16 anthropology, and 13 in women’s studies. “Promises” thus accounts for only about 3 percent of all citations to Haraway. POP confirms that, after the works mentioned previously, “Promises” is the next most-cited single article (not counting possible cites to Simians), with about 2 percent of records.

27. In Schneider (2005), Haraway comments, “many of the primatologists hated Primate Visions, which was deeply disappointing to me, and there was something of a gender division in that, but not absolutely” (123). She has also talked with Goodeve of how she would approach the book differently and admits to a “methodological flaw” in the book that would have required “a much thicker engagement ethnographically [with primatologists in the field] than I gave it.” In retrospect, Haraway writes, she “would have spent more time … inviting primatologists into this book—reassuring them. Giving them more evidence that I know and care about the way they think. It became a very hard book for many primatologists. They felt attacked and excluded” (Haraway and Goodeve 2000:56).

28. In a number of interviews, Haraway talks about her reception from scientists and the ways in which she got “produced as an enemy, which folks have found to be inaccurate when they actually engage it.” Over the years she has come to forge stronger bonds and understandings with primatologists and biologists such as Shirley Strum, Linda Fedigan, and Steve Glickman who have been reassured that she does “actually believe in the real world” (Schneider 2005:24; see also Haraway and Goodeve 2000:56–60).