Academic writing is a delicate and tricky undertaking. The standards that govern this form of writing are suboptimal at best, self-defeating otherwise. The reason is that the standards tend to tie analysis to very specific methodologies applied at a particular “level.” This level-specific approach is at the foundation of how academic disciplines are traditionally organized, and while it might work for some topics some of the time, it does not for others most of the time. A case in point is the topic of the present book, which seeks to explore the relationship between computing and capitalism, with a focus on the division of labor between humans and machines. This relationship can be traced on many different levels, layers, and rhythms, from individual psychology and subjectivity all the way to the economic, political, and epochal changes of the embedding social system. As such, the topic can be meaningfully studied only through a conceptual lens that can smoothly shift back and forth between different levels of analysis. This is the tack that we have followed in this writing.
Fortunately for us, there are outstanding examples of such writing, most prominently by thinkers and writers whose ideas have deeply influenced us in other ways: Karl Marx, Michel Foucault, Max Weber, to name a few. To “apply” the method of these thinkers to the circumstances that we seek to understand, however, we found ourselves in need of conceptual innovations, of which the term “heteromation” is a key example. We coined and introduced the term, knowing full well the conceptual risks and intellectual pitfalls of such innovation. In particular, we were concerned about two things: (1) the risk of conceptual vacuity—that is, of a concept with little empirical support and grounding; and (2) the pitfall of redundancy, reinventing the wheel, or what one astute reviewer of our manuscript described as the common phenomenon of “term entrepreneurship.”
To deal with the first concern, we have tried to ground our concepts in a wide range of empirical facts and observations, which are mainly provided in part II of the book. In regard to the second pitfall, we are quite sympathetic to the reviewer’s self-reflexive observation that finds in much of academic writing “an extension of a capitalist logic not unlike that seen in commodity fetish and trademark.” We all are, after all, the hapless, if not helpless, subjects of the current moment in human history, which is largely defined by the logic of late capitalism. We, the authors, are no exception. At the same time, our personal experiences and empirical observations have shown us that there seems to be enough novelty in the recurring and expanding phenomenon that we study for it to deserve a neologism. We were ultimately relieved to see that our critical reviewer concurred with others that our concept does indeed have “theoretical legs.” We would like to take this opportunity to thank all anonymous reviewers who took the time to read and comment on the manuscript, giving us very useful suggestions.
Other than empirical evidence and reviewers’ assessment, we have had good fortune as participants of professional communities richly furnished with colleagues and venues that enable and reward our intellectual pursuits. We direct our acknowledgments toward recognizing, in the spirit of heteromation itself, the small, distributed, unsung, but crucial moments of invisible academic and non-academic interaction and activity that have woven themselves into this work. We also want to recognize the less proximate influences of the wider institutions that support research, whose nurturing and protection we often overlook. First and foremost, we express our gratitude to those who labor invisibly in the endless tasks of heteromation, for it was they who alerted us to the conundrum of heteromation before we had a word for it, and primed the long conversation that culminated in this book. We applaud the good cheer of these invisible workers, and their humility, humor, and eagerness to learn and share.
Much like all the little (virtual) rectangles under a curve that resolve into a particular shape, a life in the academy is composed of a stream of tasks that sometimes feel trivial and disconnected, but that do, in the end, take on a distinctive collective shape. In tribute to these tasks and the doers of the tasks, we thank all of the colleagues with whom we have published papers and books in the last several years, those with whom we have co-edited special issues of journals, those for whom we have written book chapters and who have written book chapters for us, those who write reviews for us or ask us to write reviews, those whose workshops we have attended, and those with whom we have organized workshops. You all know who you are. Your actions continually produce the vibrant community in which a book such as this can be written. The distinctive insights and knowledge of your research have found their way into the pages here.
We think this book can truly be described as interdisciplinary. It resulted in part from the eclecticism of the human–computer interaction community in which we both participate. We literally could not have written this book within our original academic homes because of their stricter genre conventions. We still identify with those disciplines, but are grateful to the human–computer interaction community for taking in wayward scholars whose intellectual interests do not quite fit into traditional disciplinary boundaries.
Our home institutions—Indiana University, Bloomington, and the University of California, Irvine—could not be better places to pursue the kind of research we do, and we honor their forbears, who understood that the world needs places where disciplinary perspectives can be transcended. As to our anonymous reviewers, you are the best! The nuanced critiques and grounded suggestions you offered with both tact and humor went a long way toward making the book considerably better than it would have been otherwise. The MIT Press, and, in particular, our editor, Katie Helke, as well as the co-editors of the Acting with Technology Series, Victor Kaptelinin and Kirsten Foot, provided careful guidance and encouragement throughout this project, for which we are very grateful. Chapter 8 was informed by joint work with our esteemed colleague Selma Šabanović, whose insightful understanding of social robotics allowed us to develop an especially interesting and important case of heteromation.
Various staff members in places that we have worked have made an indispensible, though invisible, contribution to our work. They provide invaluable professional expertise that makes it possible for us academics to focus on what we do. It is difficult to name them all, but we would like to thank them for their help and support.
I would first like to thank my students in various courses, who patiently witnessed, and suffered through, the development of my ideas on the topic of this book throughout the years. I also thank the members of our research group CROMI for their creative engagement with these ideas, as well as those who have participated in our meetings in the last few years. More recently, I have benefited from conversations at the HCI/d group, the Marx reading group, and the “Working Subject” reading group in Bloomington, and in talks and conversations at IFK (Internationales Forschungszentrum Kulturwissenschaften) in Vienna. My colleagues at the Department of International Studies have heard me babble about heteromation here and there. I’d like to thank them all for their global perspective on these topics.
My very personal thanks go to Les Gasser, Harmeet Sawhney, and Jannis Kallinikos for numerous conversations on this and related topics throughout the years, to Douglas Hofstadter and Baofen Lin for their unparalleled care and kindness, to Michael Gasser and Mara Margolis for their passion for social issues, to Blaise Cronin and Betsy Stirrat for their creative companionship, to Reza and Florence Aslinia for their good hearts, to Deb Kremer for being there any time I need consultation, and to Stefano Raimondi and Christa Felder for their enduring friendship and their generosity in offering their beautiful home in Lechbruck am See, allowing me to work on the last few chapters of the book in the serene beauty of Bavaria. I’d also like to remember my dear friend Ali Halabian, a person with a deep concern for social justice, who passed away as this book was going to press.
Working with Bonnie throughout these years was a great pleasure, and in more than one way. Our paths crossed in an interesting moment in our intellectual careers, and the payoff came in how we could bring our different backgrounds to bear on issues that we both deeply care about.
My not-any-longer children Kaveh, Kia, and Taraneh, as well as their respective partners Leila, Pantea, and a yet-to-be-named lucky man, were major sources of inspiration and trepidation throughout this process. Observing them flourish but also struggle with the cultural, political, and economic challenges of the new world provided interesting “test cases” for my thinking. I’m sure they can discern their traces in different places in the book, and it is to them and their generation that I dedicate this book.
To Mahin, who shares my hopes and trepidations for our children, I don’t have the right words to do justice to her grace, spunk, and selflessness, so I resort to Rumi for that:
After my errands, to you I return;
Around your abode, I’ll turn and turn!My vows to myself—are sealed in an urn;
Seeing your face again, they’re fated to burn!—Translated by Maryam Dilmaghani
The PhD and Masters students I have been lucky enough to work with over the years have influenced the book in ways too numerous to mention, but which they themselves will recognize. Our TechDec lab meetings, and my qualitative methods and digital media classes, were stimulating sources of useful and interesting conversations on the work herein as well as related topics. The topics in chapter 12 grew out of work with my “Computing within LIMITS” colleagues, a hardy bunch that refuses the status quo and seeks concrete ways of addressing how things can be different. I am grateful for their perspectives and their courage. The Department of Informatics, and everyone in it, from office staff, to undergraduate and graduate students, to faculty, and department chair, have conjured a “powerful trouble” (in a good way) from the widely divergent skills, interests, expertises, and approaches of its remarkable members. I thank the undergraduates in my 2005 projects class who told me about social life in video games and sent me on an unexpected path that continues to feed my academic interests, as will be evident in this book, and is a great excuse for fun!
In celebration of invisible work with pervasive effects, I recall with admiration the cognitive psychologists and computer scientists who were open to the ways of anthropology and enabled my transition, earlier in my career, to the field of human–computer interaction. HCI is sometimes criticized as too open, but it makes an interesting and welcoming home for those of us who tend to color outside the lines. I thank these people from (formerly) foreign tribes who had the will to rework the tribal boundaries. Anthropology itself has been evolving, and there now exists a savvy group of young anthropologists industriously studying digital culture, and shaping how we understand it in exciting, provocative ways. It is wonderful to see them haul out old concepts like Lévi-Strauss’s notion of bricolage, and deploy them to make sense of what is happening in the world of digital technology. In youthful, contemporary ways, they carry on vintage traditions that bring to bear anthropology’s signature obsession with getting the details right so that the big picture can be right. I want to thank them too.
Hamid has been a redoubtable colleague on this journey with its many twists and turns. I have gained immeasurably from having had the great good fortune to work with him and to explore the issues in the book in ways I could not have done on my own.
Victor Kaptelinin deserves a special mention as a colleague whose sustained influence and support over many years have cast a clear light on my intellectual path. My co-editors at Mind, Culture, and Activity, with whom I am embarking on the project of putting into practice some of my beliefs about distributing wealth and knowledge (however small this drop in the ocean may be), have provided inspiration, as well as continuing interaction with the global activity theory community that has been my theoretical touchstone for many years.
My friend and neighbor Lynne Fox has patiently listened for quite some time to periodic reports of the progress of this book. An author herself, Lynne’s kindness and empathy meant a lot. Russell Crispin generously offered frequent reality checks (and delicious home-baked goods).
I dedicate this book to my children. Anthony, Christopher, and Jeanette have been thoughtful, wise interlocutors on all phases of this project, and the best company in the world, as they always have been. The good vibes and lively conversation of their partners, Jaclyn, Mia, and Franco, always bring family gatherings to life.
The next generation—Cara, Lythia, Lila, and Lionel—are the ones who will bear the brunt, if that is the right word, of the long-term effects of what we speak of in this book. Though yet relative babes in the complicated woods of contemporary life, their already apparent curiosity and sparkle will see them through as well as anything can.