Reviewed by

Daniel Meyer-Dinkgräfe   

University of Wales Aberystwyth

Posthumanism, according to William S. Haney II in Cyberculture, Cyborgs and Science Fiction. Consciousness and the Posthuman, advocates the improvement of human life through intervention of technology. This intervention is envisaged such as to enhance the abilities of body and mind through, for example, implants of computer chips. Neither posthumanists nor Haney are talking here about things like pacemakers or other devices that could make a difference between life and death, or that would allow people the use of bionic limbs where their own ones had to be amputated. The posthuman potential is claimed by its advocates to be enormous. The posthuman argument works, Haney maintains, on the basis of a specific view of what constitutes human consciousness: consciousness here is always consciousness of something.

Problems arise, and this is Haney’s main argument throughout the book, if you take a specific different model of consciousness as point of departure: a model that accounts for, and makes sense of, the experience of what has been called pure consciousness, or samadhi, depending on the traditions across the world in which it has been discussed and described. For the purpose of the book, Haney chooses what is arguably the oldest of these traditions, Advaita Vedanta, and argues, on its own and in relation to selected short fiction and novels, what the impact and implications of posthumanism are likely to be.

The addition of technology to the human physiology as envisaged by posthumanism implies an increase of stimuli that the physiology will be enabled to take in and, consequently that it will have to cope with, not at will, by intentional choice, as in switching the home laptop on and off, but inevitably and permanently. Posthuman physiology will, therefore, be in a constant state, as Hany puts it, of hyperarousal. Such a hyper-aroused physiology may loose its innate capability of enabling the experience of pure consciousness—a state of hypoarousal.

According to Advaita Vedanta, pure consciousness is the basis of all creation, including human life, and humans are privileged insofar as they are able to experience pure consciousness directly. Human physiology, according to Advaita Vedanta, furthermore enables the experience of Siddhis, specific physical and mental abilities. The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali provide clear descripions of these abilities, and meditative techniques intended to enable those who choose to practice these techniques to grow in the experience of the siddhis. The experience of the siddhis, just as the experience of pure consciousness, is within the reach of every person, without intrusive, invasive surgery, without hyperarousing technology that reduces the chance of experiencing pure consciousness or the siddhis. The range of abilities that Patanjali describes is, Haney asserts, far more exciting that what posthumanists can think of. The range encompasses the following:

Haney’s examples from literature demonstrate the concerns shared by a number of science fiction authors about posthuman changes to human life. Dominant among the positions Haney selects are different variations of what it feels like to be posthuman—devoid, as Haney demonstrates in each case, of their core, which Haney identifies as pure consciousness, even if the authors discussed do not use that term themselves. The novels discussed in detail are Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, William Gibson’s Neuromancer, Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson, Haruki Murakami’s HardBoiled Wonderland and the End of the World, and Marge Piercy’s He, She and It.

Pure consciousness clearly represents the crucial point in Haney’s argument. Some current philosophers and scientists are at best uneasy with this this concept. Allow me to use an analogy to add to the debate here. Assume, for a moment, that berries constitute a major, impotant field of research and scholarship. Researchers in this field happly agree that blueberries, raspberries and blackberries exist, and they devote their careers to finding out as much as they can about these berries. For some reasons, researchers disagree about strawberries. Some eat them every day, or at least when they are in season; they don’t doubt the existence of strawberries and study them in the same ways their colleagues study blueberries. However, other researchers deny the existence of strawberries, or, on grounds of logic, the possibility of their existence. Their denial may be a marginal aspect of their work on berries, or they may indeed devote their careers to arguing that strawberries do not and cannot exist. They may achieve fame in academic circles for these their views. If a strawberry is placed in front of them, they will refuse to eat it, or if they do, they will doubt their own experience, insisting that strawberries do not and cannot exist.

According to Advaita Vedanta, which provides the context for Haney’s argument in Cyberculture, Cyborgs and Science Fiction, pure consciousness is not only the basis of everything, including humans and human consciousness: it is there for everyone to experience. Haney points out that it is a choice, which is open to everyone to accept or to reject. In fact, I would like to add further that the Advaita Vedanta perspective elegantly accounts for the denial of the existence of pure consciousness. Advaita Vedanta is the sixth of six systems of gaining knowledge, according to Indian philosophy. The six systems suggest that different levels of knowledge exist that are quite distinct from each other, but are not mutually exclusive. Illustrating this by using the example of the knowledge of a tree, Nyaya shows the way of how and where to start.  The second system, Vaisheshika, deals with the analysis of the exter­ior world: it breaks up the tree into its parts, analyses its outer structure, stem, branches, leaves, metaphorical­ly speaking.  Samkhya analyses the subject, i.e. the deeper dimensions of the tree, e.g. the year rings. Yoga is the experiential science of consciousness, providing concepts of pure consciousness (samadhi); in the tree-illustration, Yoga recog­nises the reality of the tree in the all-pervading sap.  Karma Mimansa empha­sises the dynamics within samadhi, i.e. it analyses the dynamic ele­ments present in the sap, which in turn cause the growth of the tree out of the sap.  Vedanta, finally, the sixth system, provides the synthesis of knowledge gained by applica­tion of all the five preceding systems.  It estab­lishes that there is ultimately no difference between sap and tree.  Whereas those levels, sap and tree, were ex­per­ienced as separate in Yoga, they are experienced as uni­fied in Vedanta. (Martin Mittwede, "Die sechs Systeme der Vedischen Philosophie, Einführung", Mitteilungsblätter der  Deut­schen MERU-Gesellschaft, 10 (1985), 29.)

It is thus possible to argue that philosophers and researchers who argue for and within a model of consciousness that does not accommodate pure consciousness will be providing useful insights on the levels of existence that they feel comfortable with, and that they have, consequently chosen to engage with in their research or philosophy. However, from the Advaita Vedanta perspective, while accurate and acceptable on those levels, these positions are limited within a model that encorporates pure consciousness for the very reason that they do not take pure consciousness into account.

In Cyberculture, Cyborgs and Science Fiction. Consciousness and the Posthuman, Haney offers a new analysis of the posthuman condition and offers a clear alternative, teasing out the implications, limitations and dangers of posthuman, Faustian use of technology versus the potential of the development of higher states of human development from the perspective of Advaita Vedanta.