My friend M is a virologist who works for a biotech firm where it’s their job to tend the robots. Last fall they completed FemSexNYC, “a sexuality workshop rooted in an anti-oppression framework for all gender identities.” Needless to say, we talk a lot about the boundaries between technology and humans and about sensuality and sexuality. Recently, we spoke by phone about robotics and erotics.
Can you give a baseline and just talk a little about the work you’ve been doing and, broadly, what your experience has been?
Right now I work in this production facility in the research division of a larger [biotech] company. What that means is that we’re responsible for doing the processing of samples for the entire company’s model development program. So we get tons of tail clippings, embryos, whatever–little bits of [mouse] tissue that are usually given to us with no explanation. And it’s my responsibility to extract all the DNA from them, the set of potential information from samples that correspond to particular mice, and to provide that to the researchers who do the actual analysis to figure out if the little experiments that we’ve run to fuck with their genomes have in fact fucked with them in the proper way, or fucked with them too much, or not fucked enough.
It’s my responsibility to ensure that all the extraction of the DNA is done properly, and because we do this for a scary amount of mice on a daily basis, it can’t be done by a single person, and so I work mostly with these robotic–they’re basically like robotic handlers. And so they do a lot of processes in parallel–it’s very funny, they do a lot of the work that I did for my thesis, and spent a year and a half developing, and they do that unthinkingly, repeatedly, if need be dozens of times a day for hundreds of samples.
What you’re describing to me sounds like old-fashioned factory labor.
Yes, completely. I’m working in a really large corporation that’s streamlined everything to the point that it really is like factory labor. It’s more diffuse in that we’re not, say, chained to our benches, figuratively and literally. We have independent research projects, we’re encouraged to collaborate with other people, [Ed: bread and circus] but at the end of the day I’m charged with doing this single task and for doing it efficiently and well and for not disturbing the rest of the process. And it totally totally involves this mechanization and refinement of everything that I do. I mean, I’ve worked in the service industry and I’ve pulled hundreds of shots of espresso in a single day, but it’s never felt quite as repetitive, as single-minded in many ways. That’s an excellent comparison, basically.
Okay, I’m a little blown away at–I know you work for a corporation, but laid out so nakedly–dealing with biological matter, in a way that my brain associates with manufacture.
Totally. It’s kind of the scary world of biotech. It’s encroachment on life, and it’s kind of been done progressively–I mean, it’s been done always, but never really on this scale. [My friend] Alan has this great thing about how the history of 20th century medical research has basically been the complete domination of the mouse species for total exploitation. It’s also important to think of the degree to which there are these massive management processes that exist [for mice] fifteen feet away from where I work and yet I never really come into contact with them. They’re just–they’re managed, they’re maintained. Whether or not that’s ethical, that’s been debated ad nauseum and whether or not it is isn’t going to change that this work is being done. I don’t know if I feel at all comfortable with continuing [working] in this context because of the sheer amount of exploitation of these animals that goes on. But it’s really scary, the degree to which these new private-sector entities have sort of taken over the management of life, in this species in particular. But you had a question.
Just very briefly, what does that mean, fucking with the genome?
What that means is engineering the genome–changing the genetic code–to influence how those mice develop and behave. Basically how they function as entities. Changing the genome to try and make different models of human disease, and then checking to make sure those changes have been made properly. So I say “fucking with”– it’s a seriously elaborate, highly controlled process.
You mentioned earlier that you felt like you had a lot of psychological and social ramifications from doing this work.
Yeah. So in terms of factory work, it was very easy for me at the start of my time there to become distanced from my body, to treat my body as another aspect of the process, to treat it as a source of error, which is always this source of self-negating scientific mindset–it’s always another question of, is human error entering into this? Like if we were all perfect robotic entities that never failed we could get better results. There’s this dualist framework kind of encoded into all of that.
I was really increasingly inscribed into very particular motions, into very particular activities, into the structure of the day. so that my sense of time was really defined by what I was doing in that particular moment. Outside of work, on my days off, I still sort of kept up those rhythms to a large degree. It was very easy for me to say “Oh, I should be doing this” and then “Wait, no, I have to check myself, you know, allow myself to relax.
And to have choice in those off moments.
Completely. I was very much constrained by the whole thing. It did reach the point where it felt really good to be embodied, to be moving around, directing myself in a purposeful way after so much of the abstract, cognitive labor of being a student. It was nice to have these physical tasks, but it meant that I was increasingly alienated. Not to mention the results of what I was doing, which couldn’t have mattered less to a person in my position. I mean, I didn’t always know what I was doing and it was always for the service of a larger task that the corporation had assigned my research group. It started to feel very bad and I got kind of dissatisfied with the work. Simultaneously I entered into this kind of meditative state where I allowed myself the time to think, and I started listening to music again in this really contemplative way, and that was really, really nice. But I had a lot of time to let my mind roam while my body functioned.
Do you want to elaborate on emotions separately?
There’s totally this blurring that goes on when I’m working with the robots. I said that I feel like a handler, and that’s totally the case. It’s just me invoking the program to do this labor that I’m theoretically capable of, but thousands and thousands of times more efficiently and faster. And then, when they don’t function properly, when the errors crop up–and they always do, in spectacularly catastrophic ways–it sort of feels like a rebellion because I am telling it to do this thing, and it doesn’t follow my instructions. And then it becomes this question of management. Can I convince this entity to do for me what I want it to do and what the entire company is telling it it should be doing? And so when I see it rebel, or when I personify it in such a way that I perceive its actions as rebellion, it becomes much more so that I perceive an actual relationship with it.
For instance, it was doing this thing several weeks back where instead of dropping all the plastic pipette tips like it was meant to, it was sort of throwing them everywhere. The ejection mechanism was malfunctioning and in that moment all I could think of was that earlier that week I had been babysitting for a three-year-old, and he had taken literally every car he owned, which seemed like tens of thousands of tiny metal cars, and thrown them across the room. This robot was doing something very similar, ejecting pipette tip after pipette tip, and just sort of throwing them everywhere. And it was sort of like, okay, I have a relationship with this thing–managerial, and it obviously doesn’t have a relationship with me, but I’m able to impose this narrative of agency and individuality on it. It does very weird things to me. I know that for instance, a co-worker of mine left the lab. She found a new position, came in for her last week. And she went around and said goodbye to every single robot. There are a lot of them, some much harder to personify, and some much easier to consider as being agents. Like there’s one in particular that’s extremely cute. It makes these little whining sounds, it has an external grabber, it tells you if you did something wrong. It makes this little wailing sound if it bumps against something. It’s very easy in that moment to think of it as a child, a child you’re coaxing into doing something you need it to do. It’s the weird thing–all these are just extensions of my labor, and as machines don’t have the capacity to think for themselves, except in the ways they’re programmed to do. This is not artificial intelligence, they’re just simple machines. So in that regard they’re–
So they’re factory machines who only do what they’re programmed to do, unless they mess up and start spewing pipettes everywhere, but they’re also these emotionally commanding physical beings. What you’re describing sounds almost as much like care work as it does like factory labor.
Oh, completely. For instance, everyone in the lab would talk about how Robot 3 was the rebellious one. We’d had it for a number of years, it was going through its rebellious stages, there’s definitely a lot of care involved. I’m not even a technician for the robots, I’m not the person who has taken them apart and dealt with them on this structural scale. But I do know that all the people I work with have intense and very different relationships with the robots. Or at least, all the people I’ve spoken to about it have confirmed that.
Did you ever have a Tamagotchi?
I did, totally.
I was so jealous of those people.
I had a Digimon one that my friend gave me, I think because he got a new one and gave me the old one. I think it had a bug in it, though, because it kept dying no matter what I did.