While there is a plethora of views pertaining to various forms of sexual relationships between humans, it is generally held that as long as such interactions occur between consenting adults they are “healthy.” Of course, one could speak of traditional-religious conceptions of heterosexual, monogamous and procreative sexual partnerships as being the only virtuous expression of love; however an increasing number of individuals reject this assertion, instead subscribing to the importance of pleasure above the production and regeneration of labourers. The materialisation of Realdolls challenges both conventional and progressive notions of sex, sexuality and love. Realdolls are carefully constructed sex toys, specifically designed to look like women. While there are a variety of masturbatory aides in existence (many designed to emulate female characteristics and texture) the patented Realdoll is exceptional as its incredibly life-like appearance and feeling is an attempt to blur the lines of man and machine. The doll, according to its US Patent, is:

A figure toy amusement device comprising: an articulated skeleton … possessing: attachment means for a wig, a jaw movable with respect to said simulated skull, and a mouth lined with a smooth membrane and having a fluid receptacle located there behind; … [a] torso possessing a bosom possessing human verisimilitude in shape and feel and a vulva located between said two legs lined with a smooth membrane and having a fluid receptacle located there behind; … a full sized fully articulate doll with selectively displayed alternate faces and visual, postural, and palpable verisimilitude with a female human figure (United States Patent Office:2003).

The dolls (and their owners) provide opportunities to discuss the changing interactions between men and machines, organic and inanimate constructions of capitalism. While sexual aides have existed for years, the nature of the RealDoll provides, arguably for the first time, the opportunity for men to entirely eschew relationships with organic women while maintaining a satisfactory sex life. These dolls do not think, feel or speak (although advances in robotic-technologies will almost certainly change this in the near future), however, they fulfill sexual roles and provide an illusory form of companionship. It is indubitable that these feminised creations provide some owners with societal interactions traditionally considered as uniquely human. Men give their dolls names, clothe them and make them up, they go on excursions with their owners and are sent to the doctor. The “women” have MySpace pages, blogs and entire communities devoted to the dolls’ sexual and social lives. They, like many human-machine hybrids, exist in a purgatory of flesh and plastic, emotion and stoicism, the real and unreal.

While Marx’s concept of alienation is hardly a recent postulation, it provides an epistemological lens with which to examine this social phenomenon and evolving conceptions of both intimacy and love. This essay will argue that increasingly emotional relationships between men and Realdolls are indicative of both Marxist conceptions of alienation in (post)-capitalist societies and resultant social trends in which traditional typologies of humans and machines are increasingly ambiguous and insignificant. First, it must be proven that men are entering into sexual and emotional relationships with their anthropomorphised Realdolls. This will necessitate the use of “non-academic” sources of information, as there has been almost nothing written directly on the subject of this sex doll. Thus, it is necessary to rely on another representation of the increasing institutionalisation of machines in the life of men: the (proper-nounal) Internet. This will be followed by an examination of the works of Karl Marx, Herbert Marcuse, Bruno Latour and Donna Haraway which will serve not only as proof of the general alienation of the worker but also the social-scientific constructions of man and machine.

The previously mentioned US Patent of a Realdoll communicates the ostensibly detached and scientific nature of this innovative device. However, a brief examination of the experiences of men who own female reproductions will illustrate that these relations have (for some) developed from those of pure sexual satisfaction to the fulfillment of a larger need for social interaction. This simultaneously eschews the inevitable complications of true human contact while maintaining the semblance of (usually) monogamous partnerships over which the man has ultimate control. There is “Dave-Cat” for example, a 32 year old man from Detroit whose Realdoll is named “Sidore.” She is a Japanese-British goth who is “beautiful, loyal [and] a great listener”- everything Dave is looking for in a woman (Laslocky, 1). Sidore has her own MySpace page which explains she is “in a relationship” with Dave, has completed some college and has 70 friends online (MySpace:2007). Everhard, a 49 year old man from Britain, owns several Realdolls. They have their own personalities (although each face does not have its own body, they are easily exchanged) and he frequently takes “family photos” when they go out (Laslocky, 3). Everhard dresses and makes-up his dolls; he awakens them by changing their faces to ones with open eyes and perfumes them, noting that one of his dolls, Virginia “just lies there - she’s very static” (Holt 2007). Another doll owner, Gordon (38 years old and from Virginia) ordered a second replica of a woman in order to keep his first doll from becoming lonely and hopes that when he dies they will be buried with him so that “we can all turn to dust together” (Holt 2007). Admittedly, it is unlikely that these cases are indicative of the types of relationships which all Realdoll owners have with their sex toys. It is a fair assumption, however, that these extremes can be used to construct an idea of what Realdoll ownership entails. One online community of doll possessors is a “labyrinthine cyber haven for sex-doll enthusiasts with nearly 12 000 members and thousands of photographs and message strands” (Laslocky, 2). The dolls are frequently kept warm with electric blankets to approximate human sensations and it would seem there are definite attempts to anthropomorphise them. When the dolls require repair, they are sent to a Realdoll Doctor who does everything from tightening limbs to replacing vaginas. He notes that these repairs are customary and that “sex is a violent act, but the dolls can handle it, they’re made for abuse” (Holt 2007). The base-model of the doll costs US$ 6500 (with personalisation adding to that figure) and men see purchasing one as an investment (Laslocky, 1). This female ownership goes beyond the fulfillment of sexual needs (which could be accomplished with a cheaper sexual aide or through prostitution) and instead indicates a desire to satisfy a deeper need for companionship.

The origins of the alienated worker are to be found in the social acceptance of currency as a medium of exchange. As man produces goods for indirect, arbitrary exchange values rather than for himself or for direct trade with others’ creations, he inevitably enters into social relations independent of human interaction (Marx 1973:196-7). The replacement of creativity in production in favour of efficient mass fabrications creates a dichotomy of manufacture. That which is constructed necessarily results in a bifurcation of functions - those of natural and exchange values. These two spheres of value seldom exist in harmony, and as man cannot determine the true worth of his production he is separated from its usefulness. “In other words, its exchange value has a material existence, apart from the product” (McLellan:59). Money provides a social medium for the trade of products, and is fashioned as a non-human arbiter of value. This crucial shift in thought provides the preconditions for advanced capitalism to flourish. Although the creation of a moneyed economy is intended to facilitate trade between various producers, its unintended consequence is to act as a potent force in the lives of buyer, seller and producer. The ironic result of the creation of increasing amounts of wealth has the effect of decreasing the value of the labourer. “The worker becomes an ever cheaper commodity the more commodities he creates,” and is in turn continually fashioned as a product himself (Marx 1969: 107).

Another result of man’s detachment from his production, according to Marx, is the fetishism of commodities. As items are formed from natural resources they become commodities, representing not only the intrinsic worth of their materials, but also the labour which was needed for their creation. In this manner the commodity is fetishised, revered as a detached social interaction. These products “become commodities, social things whose qualities are at the same time perceptible and imperceptible by the senses” (Marx 1990:164). Commodities transcend the boundaries of the material and social - they are products of both nature and man and the original obscuration of true value. Men are compelled to interact with each other through the products of their labour and in turn are removed from that which they create. They do not need to identify with the end-user of this marriage of nature and society, as the medium of money provides a method for other networks to conduct this transaction. Of course, in this era of Internet purchasing and credit, one need not leave home to buy and sell commodities, a peculiar manifestation of this distancing of producer and consumer. Labour ceases to be individual and instead is a social necessity. Social relationships concerning humans disappear in favour of “material relations between persons and social relations between things” (Marx 1990:166). Through this process, the worker is increasingly distanced from his production and enters into social relations with things, rather than beings.

The appropriation of nature in order to create goods shapes the distinctive character of the modern “worker.” He is originally an employee of nature insomuch as his environment provides both physical subsistence and the products which must be manipulated into new and sellable goods. This constructs the ethos of capitalist man - a fundamental reliance on nature to provide not only the means of life, but manipulative resources which establish his social location. However, as man increasingly appropriates nature for his own material ends, the direct impact of nature on his subsistence is relegated in favour of the value of worker-produced goods. The distinction between nature and object disappear as their roles are unified. In this way, the worker becomes a slave of his object (Marx 1969:109). He is constructed as a (dehumanised) worker, rather than an organic creation of the earth. His primary existence is that of a worker, rather than physical subject and as the role of worker increases, “the more powerful becomes the alien world of objects which he creates over and against himself” (Marx 1969:108). Labour itself becomes an object, as does the worker. Through this process of objectification of nature by worker, and worker by product, the concept of alienation emerges.

Man is isolated from his production through the enactment of currency as an exchange mechanism and the fetishism of the commodity which supplants social interaction with consumptive communication. The capitalist construction of labour is also indicative of a falsity which has so permeated existence as to be considered immutable. Men do not work out of need, but as a means to an end. Namely, those needs which cannot be satisfied without the acquisition of capital are provided for through work. Labour is thus personified, this occupation is “an alien…[and]… not his spontaneous activity. It belongs to another; it is the loss of the self” (Marx 1969:111). This also results in his estrangement from other men - and perhaps women, as will be discussed later. His activities of production are undertaken with the goal of obtaining a wage so he may indirectly purchase goods from other men. He is not only alienated from his production and himself (the natural essence of his being) but also from society. Peers are only regarded as other creators of commodities with whom he must compete for access to resources, wages and private property. When he is forced to contemplate his reality, his unhappiness and himself, “he confronts the other man… the other man’s labor and object of labor” (Marx 1969:114). While it would be imprudent to deduce complete social disintegration from this analysis, the alienation of man from his production, environment, self and others necessarily has important consequences in the aggregate. While man is initially objectified in his transition to worker, capitalist progression exacerbates this dehumanisation leading to the “state of being alienated, dispossessed, sold…” (Marx 1973:831).

Alienation of man is specific to the conditions of (late) capitalism. This is in contrast to the Hegelian view of alienation, which views the appearance of wage labour as subsequent to man’s initial state of dispossession (which is caused by all labour) (Marx, 1969:177). Alienation, for Hegel, is inevitable. Marx, in contrast, believes alienation is the direct result of societal organisation based on commodity production which is structured by market economies (Mandel-Novack:16). Waged labour for Marx is a cause rather than an effect of alienation. It is not all labour which is alienating (as Hegel believes) but only employment in a capitalist economy which provides the environment for man to become distanced from the reality of his production. This is an important distinction as the Hegelian explanation for alienation is “eternal[ly] anthropological,” while the Marxist view is a “transitory historical notion” (Mandel-Novack:17). Thus, it is possible for man to become reengaged with society, assuming new approaches to wage labour and commodity circulation are instituted.

It has been established that through the realities of a society predicated on capitalism, man becomes alienated from his production, himself and his peers. However, Marx does not explain how this estrangement from nature manifests itself in men’s relations with women. Friedrich Engels considers the role of women as reproducers of labour (in contrast to men, who reproduce capital) and notes that this biological reality is cause for the original division of labour (Engels, 166). However, with the relative emancipation of women from this biological determinism through feminism, the productive role of women is increasingly aligned with that of men. The relationships from which men are estranged are not only those with other men, but also women. Although feminism seeks to decommodify women, the realities of Marxist alienation are applicable to women’s new role as producer. The fetishism of commodities, hybrids of nature and society, is thus extended to women. Traditional ideas of women as things to be owned are combined with notions of women as alienated constructions of capitalist realities. Females are designated products through their sex and class.

Alienation results in both men and women being hybrids of their natural environments and creations of capitalism. The worker is an object who enters into relationships with other objects. This reification of the individual transforms the types of social connections he makes into interactions between things. In modern economies, “personal relationships occur purely as a result of relationships of production and exchange” and all humans are abstracted from each other (McLellan:73). All communication of man thus takes place between things - whether these are traditional conceptions of machines, or produced individuals. Man manipulates nature in order to create his social location, which is indicative of his ability to control the world around him. Through the possession of things (including people) his class situation is created, as is his sense of worth. Curiously, this is demonstrated in the way men display a sense of bravado in online communities devoted to Realdoll ownership. These dolls are referred to by female, rather than neutral pronouns, as if human. They are definitely “owned” and discussed as though they are real women who have been conquered by their possessors (Laslocky, 3). Men “cannot dominate their own social relationships until they have created them,” which is precisely what appears to be occurring between men and the manufactured women (Realdolls) they have paid for (McLellan:70). If it is possible to escape feelings of alienation through the reappropriation of abstracted people and goods, the Realdoll certainly represents a method of possessing a hybrid of human and machine which can be ultimately dominated. The appropriation of nature as exemplified in both alienated labour and scientific advancement creates the perfect opportunity for technologically advanced dolls to assume the role of woman and satisfy man’s need for control over his environment.

Herbert Marcuse also identifies the role of Marxist alienation in social formation, although his epistemology also considers the importance of psychoanalysis when drawing conclusions regarding man’s repressed existence. Civilisation is ultimately repressive as it must necessarily constrain both the biological and societal nature of man. Sigmund Freud notes that the history of man is also the history of repression (Marcuse:11). This is the beginning of civilisation, the abandonment of satisfying instinctual needs in favour of social cohesion. In order for society to function with the greatest levels of freedom for all, individual desires are repressed and in some cases, considered perversions. The repression inherent to modern civilisation, however, is a modern phenomenon which relies on the institutionalisation of moneyed economies and the division of labour. In contrast, primitive societies are free from worker alienation because of “the rudimentary (personal or sexual) character of the division of labor, and the absence of an institutionalized hierarchical specialization of functions” (Marcuse:152). It is this specialisation in the division of labour which provides the conditions for alienation to flourish. As already discussed, the nature of labour is changed under capitalism as men are not working for themselves, but for an amorphous system in which they are aware of their impotence. Men must submit to the dictates of this all encompassing, ultimately permeating social structure if they wish to exist within it. This alienation is exacerbated as men “do not live their own lives but perform pre-established functions” which dehumanise and (ironically) isolate them (Marcuse:45). Work is not for the fulfillment of personal needs, but instead provides the requirements for the greater good. Moreover, societies (such as ours) that are governed by the “performance principle” train men to forgo pleasure even during supposed recreation so that “alienation and regimentation spread into the free time” (Marcuse:47). The restrictions which are allegedly confined to employment permeate man’s existence so pervasively that his alienation is inescapable. The relations that are entered into with things, rather than humans, come to dominate his entire life, further ossifying alienation. This changes social relations into those “between persons as exchangeable objects” whose only roles are to increase methods of efficiency, management and production (Marcuse:102).

Alienation is institutionalised in the consciousness of man through the structures of society, which falsely convince him that his social role is solely that of worker-producer. Knowledge is manipulated through the education system, media, capitalism, etc. to keep men from an awareness of their true surroundings. This concealment of reality is necessary to uphold prevailing social norms and prevent insurrection. The “manipulated restriction of his consciousness” prohibits an individual awareness of the true nature of repression (Marcuse:103). Although the evolution of capitalism is predicated on making life more comfortable and increasing leisure time, this is clearly not the case. Instead of enjoying a relationship with mechanisms which mitigate labour, man is in constant conflict with a capitalist system which has taken over the distribution of such means. Marcuse discusses the “machine” which has appropriated these mechanisms of convenience; politically, corporately, culturally and educationally, structures have “weld[ed] blessing and curse into one rational whole” (Marcuse:xvii). Man becomes dependent on these structures as alienation is further entrenched into his being, and he does little to challenge this reality. The modification of once natural instincts is institutionalised through laws, values and relations so that man conforms to what is most productive for society rather than himself. This “management of instinctual needs” is vital for the continued dominance of the system of capitalism - merchandising is “made into objects of the libido,” so that buying and selling take the place of true human fulfillment (Marcuse:xii). The “civilising” processes of capitalist expansion not only alienate the worker, but force all pleasure to be either hidden from or organised by society. The only mode of escapism in this highly regulated reality is through capricious excursion into primordial desires.

The libidinal repression embodied in capitalism does not disrupt the social order so long as man desires what he is “supposed to.” These restrictions are universalised and rationalised so that they permeate both man’s conscience and his unconscious and become the collective “desire, morality and fulfillment” of man (Marcuse:46). His societal and sexual performances are assimilated so that man feels relatively satisfied and society is adequately reproduced. The only activities which are “protected from cultural alterations” and remain committed to the principle of pleasure are those of fantasy (Marcuse:14). It is obvious, however, that fantastical erotic aspirations - epitomised in, for example, the use of anthropomorphised sex dolls which are incapable of refuting any type of advance or leaving abusive situations - are generally considered immoral. Perhaps more importantly, the realm of the “perverse” has often been judged as any sexual fulfillment which is devoid of procreative intention. Perversions, therefore, “express rebellion against the subjugation of sexuality” to procreation and oppose those institutions which shape this morality (Marcuse:49). Marcuse also notes that the termination of the production of wasteful and destructive goods, signalling the end of capitalism and instigation of non-commodified pleasure will be driven by technology and liberated Life Instincts (xviii-xix). It is possible, then, that the continued employment of Realdolls (and eventually, it is assumed, robotic sexual partners) may fatally injure capitalism.

While this essay is largely unconcerned with the role of psychoanalysis in drawing its conclusions, the work of Freud so permeates Marcuse’s explanation of man’s inherent repression developing from capitalism that it must be briefly examined. Freud develops his theory of the “repressive mental apparatus” on two levels: The ontogenetic; repressed individual from infancy to his conscious social existence and the phylogenetic; repressed civilisation from the primal horde to the civilised state (Marcuse:20). While there is a recognition of the importance (for some) in examining primary instincts, the subconscious, etc., this is rejected in favour of discussing the social-material conditions which collectively embody the realities of an alienated workforce. There are, however, a few fascinating lines of psychoanalytic inquiry which may help demonstrate other reasons for the purchase of Realdolls by men. Realdolls cannot reproduce, which has been a marketable point for both buyers and those who support the integration of the dolls into society. Perversions which prevent procreation, therefore, are seen as an attempt to prevent the “reappearance of the father” (Marcuse:49). Alienation from oneself and society may be extended to include the realm of both offspring and the patriarch. Haraway, it will be shown, lauds the existence of mechanical representations of humans as providing the population control needed for the survival of humanity. Moreover, the aggregative effects of widespread individual repression generate a society which is largely “perverse.” In modern society, civilisation is a direct reflection of individual pathologies and by extension, the cure for personal disorders must be found in treating the general disorder, embodied in capitalist organisation. “Psychological problems therefore turn into political problems” (Marcuse:xxvii). Traditional distinctions between psychology, politics, economics and sociology become obsolete in favour of a holistic examination of man’s current condition.

Through the processes of alienation, the human dynamic becomes static. Existence is “mere stuff, matter, material” as all facets of society are highly structured and regimented (Marcuse:103). This de facto collectivised authoritarianism serves as a permanent and panoptical control mechanism. The unnaturally constructed morality needed for the maintenance of social cohesion unquestionably alters previously praised virtues. The isolating processes inherent in capitalism, this system of “animate and inanimate things” are effectively governed through administration, bureaucracy and economies (Marcuse:102). This regimentation of all components of life, legitimised through the guise of necessary modernisation and rationalisation, may eventually lead to the demise of capital. Marcuse argues that this process of oppression results in a drive for technical progress which may result in the antagonism of the previously upheld social division of labour and alienation (xxii). Civilisation will be altered through the social acceptance of new forms of technology. If the trend of an anthropomorphism of surrogate sexual-emotional partners continues, this will certainly be the case. If “the living links between the individual and his culture are loosened,” these links may be reinstated through non-living social conduits (Marcuse:104). Certainly, the Internet has provided not only (perhaps illusory) social acceptance, but also serves as a forum for men who own female replications to legitimise and enforce ostensibly perverse actions. It is commonly thought that the salvation of man from the chains of capitalist oppression will occur through technological progress. If it has become an arduous pursuit to form relationships and this is a result of alienation, then the general automisation of labour in a post-capitalism may rectify (or alter) preconceived notions of sexuality for the better. As notions of both civilisation and perversion are changed and Freudian explanations of repression become less valid, the future of society may well be predicated on social evolution which encourages the increase of interactions between humans and non-humans.

Bruno Latour stresses the importance of considering the roles of nonhumans in examining society. Through the metaphor of a nonhuman door closer which has definite social implications, Latour examines the character of the countless objects which substitute for humans. This metaphor is applicable when considering Realdolls and the human roles they fulfill. For Realdoll buyers, it has been impossible to find a sufficiently attractive woman who is willing to completely submit to the whims of her partner, always be young and never leave. Given the unlikelihood that these men will find such a women, they are left with two options. Either to discipline women in such a way that they will fulfill these functions (an obvious impossibility) or to “substitute for the unreliable people another delegated human character” who will perform this role (Latour:300, emphasis in original). The use of Realdolls as surrogate women, of course, hardly provides the same experience of living with a real woman, which for some is the appeal of using such a construction. “The unskilled nonhuman groom… presupposes a skilled human user,” in this case, a woman who embodies the desired characteristics unattainable for these men (Latour:301). Just as for Latour the ideal door closer might be a polite, low-paid porter, the success in finding one becomes such an impossibility that it is easier to substitute the humanised role with one of a slightly less efficient, but certainly more reliable, mechanised groom.

Humans and nonhumans, however, may act very differently from their expected roles. Latour notes that both groups are “undisciplined” and that their character expectations may differ from the reality of their enactment (Latour:305,307). Realdolls, despite personification by their owners, are not human. They may not provide the expected emotional support which their possessors desire or may fail in their sexual function. There are, for example, some erotic constructions which the Realdoll factory refuses to make - children, animals, celebrity replicas and (interestingly) those with armpit hair (Laslocky, 4). Moreover, the simple appeal for people to act sensibly is insufficient to keep nonhumans from being broken. The door closer and Realdoll may “go on strike” as they are both creations of humanity who appeal to responsive human characters. The Realdoll Doctor mentioned earlier is where these women are sent when they go on strike. Their work stoppage is frequently the result of sexual abuse. While some of the reasons Realdolls are sent away are for routine maintenance (joint tightening, vaginal replacement), there are many cases of maltreatment which can only be described as cruel: Realdolls have been mutilated and left in dumpsters, dismembered or snapped in half (Laslocky, 4).

Latour is particularly concerned with the discrimination by sociologists and society toward nonhumans. There is no question that these nonhumans which have been given responsibilities previously assumed by individuals are anthropomorphised. He notes that “anthropos” and “morphos” mean either “what has human shape or what gives shape to humans” (Latour:303). This argument is furthered in the following explanation:

…the groom [bride?] is indeed anthropomorphic, and in three senses: first, it has been made by men, it is a construction; second it substitutes for the actions of people, and is a delegate that permanently occupies the position of a human; and third, it shapes human action by prescribing back what sort of people should pass through the door (Latour:303).

Despite the obvious human-esque characteristics of door closers, Realdolls and other technological devices which serve as replacements for people, sociology has been reluctant to incorporate these evidently important nonhumans in its study. This discrimination is not confined to humans, however; nonhumans may leave aside “segments of the human population” as well (Latour:302). The door closer may be too heavy for children or the elderly, or prevent those carrying packages from entering - it is ageist and classist. Realdolls may also be discriminatory. They are extremely expensive (accessible only to a certain class in society) and bigoted toward the physically challenged because Realdolls may be too heavy for those in wheelchairs to lift up. This is particularly noteworthy, as one of the justifications for the continued manufacture of Realdolls is the sexual relations they provide for the physically challenged. Finally, the vast majority of Realdolls are white, blonde and thin, with the heaviest model being 113 pounds (Realdoll.com).

In order to combat the estrangement sociologists feel “when they fall upon the bizarre associations of humans with nonhumans,” Latour seeks to develop new techniques and vocabularies to address these complex imbroglios (298). Three terms which he wishes to introduce into sociological discourses are description, transcription and prescription which may be executed by both humans and nonhumans (Latour:306). These refer to, respectively, the semiotic endowment of competencies and roles, the movement of these scripts to more durable repertoires and how these responsibilities are ossified (similar to “role expectation” in sociology). As noted, these terms are manifested reciprocally, between the owner and his machine. With Realdolls, these designations are displayed through man’s expectation as to what a woman “should be,” the transfer of these beliefs to latex constructions and the performativity of the Realdolls once they are sold. The formation of these “scripts” of behaviour simultaneously influences both human and nonhuman behaviour. Given each actor’s “competence and pre-inscription” toward the other, the scripts of nonhumans are understood (sociologism) as is the behaviour prescribed to humans by machines (technologism) (Latour:307-8). These terms coalesce into a final philosophy of the role of nonhumans depending on how they are ordered along a linear chreod (”necessary path”) of pre-inscribed competencies (Latour:308). That is, in order for these nonhumans to be accepted as inherent parts of humanity, specific societal, political and economic phenomena have to occur. These events shape the realities of humans and nonhumans, complicating the effects each have on the other. “If the concepts, habits and preferred fields of sociologists have to be modified a bit to accommodate these new masses, it is a small price to pay” (Latour:310).

Nonhumans fulfill tasks that humans are unable, unwilling or incapable of. Realdolls assume a role that (presumably) most women would be disgusted with. Latour notes that humans use machines so often that their place is unquestionably accepted by society. The relations between humans create society, while those between nonhumans establish techniques (Latour:308). As organic women (and other workers) are displaced, their surrogates are upgraded and re-skilled. This can be seen through the evolution of the male ‘sex-toy’ from, for example, pornography to poorly-made vaginal constructions to Realdolls and, eventually, to sex robots. If, indeed “what defines our social relations is, for the most part, prescribed back to us by nonhumans,” then the rise of the Realdoll is symptomatic not only of alienation, but a shift away from human interaction and a rejection of procreative sex (Latour:310). All mechanical human delegates have a social role and with Realdolls this is especially obvious. Regardless of whether Realdolls are part of society, they are definitely influencing and reshaping humanity. Latour finishes his piece by noting that “studying social relations without the nonhumans is impossible” (Latour:310). Moreover, it has been shown that studying nonhumans without considering social relations is equally preposterous.

Donna Haraway’s epistemology combines feminism, Marxism and post-modernism to analyse the role of cyborgs as political metaphor and future representation. The cyborg she constructs is “a cybernetic organism, a hybrid of machine and organism, a creature of social reality as well as a creature of fiction” which not only exists, but may provide new opportunities for feminist theories to coalesce (Haraway:149). Although this essay has primarily dealt with men who are constructed through processes of domination, the role of women has been largely ignored. It is argued that while modern man is the result of nature and capitalist realities (class oppression), women are the product or nature and patriarchy (sexual oppression). Men are woman are “theorized and fabricated hybrids of machine and organism; in short, we are cyborgs” and moreover “this cyborg is our ontology; it gives us our politics” (Haraway:150).

Schisms in feminist theory have oppressed other women/cyborgs by viewing them as the other in the attempt to build a theory which can identify universal conditions of patriarchal domination and gender construction. Through taxonomy and discourse, feminist epistemologies are produced which “police deviation from official woman’s experience,” diluting female solidarity (Haraway:156). This essentialism has resulted in female normative characterisations perpetuated by both sexes which obstinately classify women. When both people and employment, for example, are labelled as “feminised” they are “made extremely vulnerable; able to be disassembled, reassembled, exploited as reserve labour force…” (Haraway:166). Men and women are increasingly hybridised with machines, and constructions such as the Realdoll are “feminised” both as representatives of women and as exploited labour, perhaps indicating projections of the changing nature of both sexes. Haraway argues that feminists such as Catherine MacKinnon shape women as non-beings through contentions that “[man’s] desire, not the self’s labour, is the origin of ‘woman’” (159). Such totalisations convince feminists that the category of “woman” does not truly exist, except as a realisation of man’s desire. Although Harway disputes this, it is argued that MacKinnon’s epistemology is crucial in understanding the origin of modern feminised cyborgs/women (perhaps providing a starting point for addressing the note on page one). Because paid labour, the traditional ontology of men, provides for the accumulation of knowledge of domination, it allows for man’s awareness of his subjugation and alienation under capitalist conditions and in turn man objectifies woman to gain the illusion of control (Haraway:158). Alienation and objectification combine with the organic states of, respectively, men and women to create human-machine hybrids which interact with each other biologically and mechanically. “To be constituted as another’s desire is not the same thing as to be alienated in the violent separation of the labourer from his product” (Haraway:159).

Cyborgs provide possibilities that allow the dynamics of men, women and machines to become more fluid and change notions of production and reproduction, sexuality and society. Sex and sex roles no longer constitute organic qualities which legitimise “ideologies of sexual reproduction” a fact which (ironically) is considered irrational by both “corporate executives reading Playboy [Realdoll owners?] and anti-porn radical feminists” (Haraway:162). Another argument put forth by proponents of Realdoll ownership is that, given overpopulation, men should be free to enjoy the benefits of a sexual relationship without the worry of unwanted pregnancy. Others maintain that preventing men who idolise such idealised creations of femininity from procreating will ultimately benefit civilisation (Laslocky, 5). Given the geometrical reproduction of dispossessed, alienated and objectified individuals, the possibilities of “simulacra; that is, of copies without originals” is a highly attractive solution to avoid perpetuating the mistakes of humankind (Haraway:165). This is not an argument for eugenics, but rather a statement of the need for inquiry as to how humanity will progress, given the increasing relationships between humans and nonhumans. It is possible that increases in cybernetic technologies will mean that people will no longer need to adapt to find a mate. If androids can effectively replace “living” humans, men and women may be able to exist happily without worry about the regeneration of the state. Admittedly, this science fiction is abstract. However, “cyborg replication is uncoupled from organic reproduction” and we are all cybrogs who are increasingly interacting and interfusing with other nonhumans, “requiring regeneration, not rebirth” (Haraway:150, 181). Sex and reproduction are dominant themes in texts of science fiction, exploring the future of humanity. They “structure our imaginations of personal and social possibility” and allow for a potential escape from alienation and objectification (Haraway:169). It is not difficult to imagine a world where sex and procreation are not necessarily connected, as cyborg gender is increasingly a “local possibility taking a global vengeance,” both literally and as a way to eliminate the categorisation of women (and men) which threaten to further separate and dominate those which do not fit strict taxonomies of femininity and masculinity.

If the future of (non)human regeneration is through cybernetic procreation, it will be fascinating to see how this materialises, especially given the reflection of capitalist patriarchy in current cyborg replication. Although Realdolls and their (technologically superior) offspring have been and will continue to be created by men, “illegitimate offspring are often exceedingly unfaithful to their origins,” so it is not yet clear how their ontogeny will proceed (Haraway:151). While the metaphorical cyborg seeks to eradicate the essentialism inherent in feminist divisions, automatons also struggle against “the one code that translates all meaning perfectly, the central dogma of phallogocentrism,” so that taxonomies based on sex and gender are effectively removed (Haraway:176). Cyborgs reject human myths which assume that with the removal of gender divisions, alienated labour or other inorganic constructions, ultimate happiness will be achieved. They are resolutely committed to “partiality, irony, intimacy and perversity” without the constraints of Western ideology (Haraway:151). Their prime motivation (as was with early humans) is that of survival. This is accomplished through the appropriation of texts and social tools which “marked them as the other” (Haraway:175). As relations between humans become more global, complex and insecure, it is expected that notions regarding family structure and gender roles will continue to evolve. The employment of a post-modernist epistemology by cyborgs rejects the importance of history and traditional reproduction directly confronting previously given notions regarding the nature of man. As with all cyborgs, Realdolls are unconcerned with their origins, mortality or morality. These monsters define “the limits of community in Western imaginations,” challenging humanity to re-evaluate their importance in the cosmos (Haraway:180).

Realdolls confuse boundaries, which Haraway argues should be both supported and responsibly analysed (150). Through this disorder of the natural and abnormal, virtuous and perverse, organic and constructed, we may relearn how to be human and discover our true ethos. The logos of Western male dominated capitalism can be reshaped to be more inclusive and universally relevant. While the occurrence of Realdolls may be seen as the imposition of a totalising and restraining model, ultimately furthering the oppression of women, it may (in time) provide the opportunity to rethink the nature of humans. Moreover, it may provide a space for people to accept “permanently partial identities and contradictory standpoints” (Haraway:154). The polis and oikos will be redefined through technologism and new social relations (Haraway:151). Politics will be structurally altered to include the reality of cyborgs and mechanised-human constructions. Thus, the cyborg will not only escape the realm of Foucaudian bio-politics, but construct new systems of social management (Haraway:163). Realdolls and their progeny will continue to transcend boundaries of feminist constructions, moving from exploited woman to revered goddess and, eventually, actualised cybernetic politician. Although the Realdoll’s existence is fraught with controversy, Haraway notes that “[she] would rather be a cyborg than a goddess” (181). Realdolls may one day share that sentiment.

An examination of some Realdoll owners has shown that the needs fulfilled by these anthropomorphised constructions of femininity transgress the sexual. Individuals such as Dave-Cat and Everhard prove that some men who own these dolls are seeking not only erotic satisfaction, but a need to reconstruct the social-emotional in their lives. These pseudo-human relations can be explained through the employment of a Marxist epistemology. The enactment of currency as a medium of exchange, combined with the resulting “commodity fetishism” change man’s relations with his labour, himself and his peers. He becomes socially detached and alienated as he perceives his place in the world is becoming uncertain. This situation is uniquely capitalistic, rather than inherent in man (as Hegel asserts) and leads to the changing nature of what it means to be human. Marcuse also subscribes to the notion of alienation in capitalist societies, although his epistemology is focussed on analysing the ontogenesis (growth of repressed individual) and phylogenesis (growth of repressive civilisation) originally espoused by Freud. Alienation results from an oppressive civilisation which advocates social control over perversions, despite the inherently natural drive for pleasure which “healthy” man requires. Through the automation of labour, unpleasant or otherwise unwanted tasks will be removed from society, perhaps altering offending structures and changing the nature of humanity.

Latour’s metaphor of the door closer as symbolising the changing character of relations between humans and nonhumans is easily extended to the reality of the Realdoll. As discrimination by humans and nonhumans occurs, there is a need for greater understanding of these relationships by sociologists. Not only through examining these interactions, but by changing the semiotics and discourse which define social conditions in a world being rapidly and decidedly altered by technology. Changing labour conditions, new notions of sexuality, gender and reproduction and social detachment are epitomised in the manufacture of Realdolls, whose “delegated human character” creates a new social role. It is necessary to examine the effects that humans and nonhuman constructions have on each other in order to properly determine the future of both sets of actors. Finally, Haraway’s extended metaphor of the cyborg shows that women have become victims of their own identifications and studies of women must seek an integrated approach to create a holistic feminism which is all inclusive. She notes that we are all cyborgs, but that men and women’s structured components arise from different sources of oppression. Through the development of cyborgs and cybernetic identities with post-modern epistemologies, possibilities for accommodating changing ideas about procreation, gender and pleasure are introduced into the field of academic inquiry and provide an opportunity to rethink human nature. Thus, cyborgs may become actualised and ultimately change society.

This essay was predicated on the belief that Realdolls are symptomatic of alienation and changing relations between humans and nonhumans. This has been proven through a variety of viewpoints and epistemologies. However, it has not addressed the future of Realdolls (and other cyborgs) and their resultant effect on the alienation of man. The works of Marx, Marcuse, Latour and Haraway show that, assuming cyborgs continue to develop and eventually become androids, they may (ironically) provide a conduit through which men and women can escape their repressed realities. It is certain that the Realdoll, and similar life-like sex constructions are beginning to assume their place in society. Moreover, there is already work being done on feminised constructions who more closely approximate women through robotics, voice-box installation and other sensual modifications such as smell, taste, etc. The Realdoll Corporation (only one of many companies producing such models) grossed over US$ 2 million last year with the factory employing 15 people full time (Laslocky, 1). There will soon be a feature film released titled “Lars and the Real Girl” which is based on the experience of a lonely man who finds (non-sexual) solace in a relationship with a Realdoll (IMDB). Through alienation, man has become alien; as women has become an object through objectification. However, it is hoped that as cyborgs progress through the aid of their progenitor, technology, they will continue to influence their interactions with humans and develop agencies and complex social systems of their own.

Works Cited

Engels, F., 1972. (Ed. Leacock, E.B.) The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State. New York: International Publishers. 1972.

Johnson, J. (Latour, B.), 1988. Mixing Humans and Nonhumans Together: The Sociology of a Door-Closer. Social Problems, 35(3), p. 298-310.

Haraway, D., 1991. Simians, Cyborgs and Women: The Reinvention of Nature. New York: Routledge.

Holt, N. (Dir.), 2007. Guys and Dolls. [Online Video]. United Kingdom: North One Television. Retrieved 5 Dec. 2007, < video.google.ca/vide…;.

Laslocky, M. 2005. Just Like A Woman. (Salon Online Magazine.) [Online]. Retrieved 5 Dec. 2007, < dir.salon.com/story/…;. p. 1-5.

Mandel, E. & Novak, G., 1973. The Marxist Theory of Alienation. (2^nd ed.) New York: Pathfinder Press.

Marcuse, H., 1966. Eros and Civilization: A Philosophical Inquiry into Freud. Boston: Beacon Press.

Internet Movie Database (IMDB). 2007. Lars and the Real Girl. Retrieved 5 Dec. 2007. <http://imdb.com/title/tt0805564/>.

Marx, K., 1969. Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844. (Trans. Martin Milligan.) New York: International Publishers.

Marx, K., 1973. Grundrisse: Foundations of the Critique of Political Economy. (Trans. Martin Nicolaus.) Harmondsworth: Penguin Books Ltd.

Marx, K. 1990. Capital: Volume One. (Trans. Ben Fowkes.) London: Penguin Books Ltd.

McLellan, D., 1972. Marx’s Grundrisse. 2^nd ed. London: The Macmillan Press Ltd.

McMullan, M., “Full Size Fully Articulated Doll with Selectively Displayed Alterative Faces,” U.S. Patent 7 186 212, 15 Oct, 2003. Retrived 5 Dec, 2007 <http://www.uspto.gov/web/patents/patog/week10/OG/html/1316-1/US07186212-20070306.html>.

Realdoll^TM. 2000. Abyss Creations, LLC. Retrieved 5 Dec, 2007. <http://realdoll.com>.

• At the top of the list, 73% of people own digital cameras, while 62% own mobile phones that have access to the Internet; while near the bottom, only 27% have cable television and 9% use a Blackberry or PDA

• Additionally, the survey showed that traditional media such as books, radio and newspapers are still the most emotionally engaging. In a related trend, 18% of respondents indicated that video streaming sites on the Internet has resulted in a decrease in traditional TV viewed (while 79% indicated no change).

• There were also some fairly obvious results on the topic of social networks. The survey found that “social networks have the potential to become major content distribution platforms” and that “social networks are an essential place to be for brands.”

RETHINKING PIRACY?

Ben Jones at Torrentfreak has an analysis of the piracy section of the report here. Jones highlights that piracy is occurring because of a lack of choice and accessibility in legal media sources (70% of pirates responded that legal sources for media do not have the same range as illegal sources); and that anti-piracy campaigns are generally ineffective.

However, I think it’s worth also noting that the survey also indicates that 7 out of 10 would stop pirating if they received a warning from their ISP (Internet service providers like Bell, Rogers AT&T or Comcast). This is a significant statistic because it gives weight to the music/entertainment industry’s attempts to lobby governments for legislative changes (instead of independently suing people in the civil law courts) that would compel ISPs to enforce new copyright laws. Changes in criminal law will no doubt impact the ability of ISPs to shield their users from outside surveillance and infringements on privacy.

DIGITAL RIGHTS MANAGEMENT & COPYRIGHT

A final statistic worth mentioning concerns DRM, or digital rights management. While 1 out of 5 respondents have a good understanding of DRM, 67% have either never heard of it, or have heard of it but don’t know what it is. This may partly explain why consumers who bought Santana’s All That I Am or My Morning Jacket’s Z on CD, could not understand why they weren’t able to put their purchased music on their computer or portable media player. In not adequately explaining the purpose (or even the existence) of DRM on the CD, the music industry effectively alienated a large number of customers, who knew only that the CD didn’t work properly.

This is a particularly out-of-the-ordinary situation where a technology comes under fire on two fronts simultaneously. First, there are the frustrated consumers who have trouble playing the CDs in their computers and media players. And second, there are the anti-DRM and fair copyright advocates, such as Michael Geist, who challenge DRM on the grounds that it is contrary to fair use and fair dealing laws. These two elements have each had their own effects: the first case has resulted in a steep decline in DRM-protected music, while the second succeeded in delaying new copyright reforms that were to be tabled in December by the Canadian government.

However, these two consequences are not unrelated, nor independent. The problems with DRM have driven the music/entertainment industry towards lobbying the government for stronger copyright protections and the criminalizing of DRM-circumvention. While the Canadian anti-DRM camp has so far been successful at curbing legislative challenges to fair use/dealing, it remains to be seen whether they can hold out much longer due to increased domestic pressure from the Canadian Recording Industry Association (CRIA), the International Federation of the Phonographic Industry (IFPI), and the US government.

Since public knowledge of DRM is low, what happens when the entertainment industry emerges with new forms of DRM that do not malfunction like the previous versions. Where will the public stand on fair use and fair dealing? The growth of surveillance and the decrease of privacy have so far met with little resistance, mainly because the public does not perceive a dramatic change in everyday life. You can still buy the products you want, and use them how you like. The rise of DRM challenged that ability and it was for this reason that public outcry ensued (though they did not necessarily know what DRM is). When and if DRM manages to reemerge in a more subtle form, will the death of fair copyright be far behind?

Not having any training as a scientist, I wonder how one might go about connecting social behavior to genes in a way that would be scientifically rigorous. These studies have all been conducted with adults in the short-term, not with a fetus that has grown into an adult over the long-term. Establishing the existence of a gene prior to socialization, and not its content, and then concluding that these genes account for our political behavior seems highly spurious. How would we determine the causality - what is shaping what - between our environmentally-influenced social values and our seemingly fixed genetic makeup?

Anderson’s text works within both geographic and historical fields in that he seeks to provide a genealogy of nationalism and explain this historical trajectory with reference to the imposition of national territorialities onto the geographical imagination of citizens (171). Yet, while his genealogy extends right up to the moment in which he wrote the second edition, Anderson fails to take into account the highly relevant developments in political geography from which he might have drawn and instead assumes the dominance of the national scale. These developments have anticipated the widely varying ways in which Latin Americans have sought to identify themselves in the last twenty years - ranging from local, to intra-national regional, to supranational regional.

Perhaps the most visible transition from the traditional imagined nation to the complicated imagination in recent years is the rise of Chavez seeking to advance the ‘Bolivarian revolution’. To say that the Chavez movement is national is entirely correct, but to say that it is only national obscures its highly complicated multi-scalar nature. Chavez seeks to do much more than simply project Venezuelan national identity onto the world stage in order to advance national interests. Rather, he seeks to link multiple interests and identities that cut across national territorial boundaries, ultimately aimed at creating something newer, and greater, than the Venezuelan nation. The creation of Telesur, a multi-state television station endorsed by Venezuela, Argentina, Cuba and Uruguay is a case in point. Just as print-capitalism played such a pivotal role in the transformation of thought that made the nation conceivable, new forms of communications technology (transnational television networks, internet communications, satellites, etc.) are enabling the practice of new collective and unifying rituals (Anderson 35-6). This contemporary transformation has its own shifting notion of temporality, one that links the world together instantaneously, allowing broad dialogues to occur, with much less concern for language than with print technology. As Telesur indicates by launching its first broadcast on the 222^nd birthday of Simon Bolívar, as well as in the general language used by proponents of the Bolivarian Revolution, there are increasingly links to timeless - if not divine, in the traditional sense - symbols of shifting statehood. The point here is not to say that the nation is irrelevant, but that we are in the midst of a political and cultural dialectic that is changing our understandings of collective identities, and the forms of political and social organization used to reflect these identities.

Similarly, the Zapatistas provide an interesting example of emerging social movements and the challenges they present for fixed national identities. Utilizing state of the art telecommunications technologies, the Zapatistas effectively linked their struggle within the broader Mexican imagined community, but also to macro-regional and global struggles worldwide, garnering considerable support from Europeans and Americans who shared, at least rhetorically, their sense of social justice. The EZLN represents this dialectic quite well, for they operate within the confines of traditional forms of political organization (i.e.: Mexican territorial boundaries), in many ways reinforcing national collective identities. However, they also are forging international solidarities of shared consciousness - forging new imagined communities - united around the struggle for certain collective values and beliefs. Just as the birth of Latin American nations nearly two hundred years ago depended on unifying myths, political and social values, and the technology to express them, resulting in the nations that exist today, new media technologies are enabling the reconstruction of collective identities that have begun to challenge the traditional power of national territorial boundaries.

We are witnessing a new era in the organization and construction of statehood, and while the era of the nation-state remains strong, it is changing. The narrative that Benedict Anderson provided in Imagined Communities posited that the universalisms of religious dynasties were slowly eroded through the convergence of capitalism and print technology onto the diversity of local vernaculars, creating new space for specific national identities (18, 46). Today a similar process is occurring: regional, if not global, discourses are forming with the convergence of shifting economic relations and new developments in telecommunications. However, just as Anderson claims that the “cultural artifacts [of nation-ness were] the spontaneous distillation of a complex ‘crossing’ of discrete historical forces”, the current transition is not inevitable or predetermined. Indeed, this shift is highly contested, and in an era of supposed cosmopolitanism, there has been a marked resurgence in nationalist sentiment throughout the world. Yet, the nation in Latin America is changing, and the struggles over what form this change should take in many ways reflects the same struggles during the Spanish-American fight for independence, with change coming from both elites and the agency of citizens dissatisfied with their specific ‘national compromise’. However, while Latin America provides excellent examples of this transition, it does not monopolize them. Worldwide, we are witnessing the complication of the nation.

Benedict Anderson. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. New York, NY: Verso. 1991.

Saul Williams’ most recent album, The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust, has been released online in a high-bitrate mp3 format, giving consumers the choice of downloading the album for free, or paying 5$ for it. Which would you choose? The album’s producer, Trent Reznor, says that out of the 154 449 people that downloaded the album, 28 322 paid the five dollars. That’s 18.3% of downloaders paying up front. Since that works out to just over $140 000, I wonder if that is considered by him to be a success.

Williams’ last album sold 34 000 copies, according to Ars Technica. While that works out to $408 000 if the average album sale was $12, there is still little information on how much Williams would have received out of that total. Data from one analysis indicates that Williams could have received about 39% of his album sales when sold in CD format through Amazon. That works out to about $159 000 (without considering the possibility that most of the sales were made in brick and mortar stores like HMV). So, without even taking into consideration the non-economic benefits of Reznor’s new music sales model, the amount of income generated for the artist is pretty close to the traditional sales format.

That has to make you wonder whether all the bluster about how online ‘illegal’ downloading hurts music sales, is more a problem of accessibility and quality than it is about piracy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gud2Yu4bCw

Richard Stallman is one of the founders of the Free Software Movement and lead developer of the GNU Operating System. His book is ‘Free Software, Free Society’.

JP: Can you first of all explain the “Free Software Movement’.

RMS: The basic idea of the Free Software Movement is that the user of software deserves certain freedoms. There are four essential freedoms, which we label freedoms 0 through 3.

Freedom 0 is the freedom to run the software as you wish. Freedom 1 is the freedom to study and change the source code as you wish. Freedom 2 is the freedom to copy and distribute the software as you wish. And freedom 3 is the freedom to create and distribute modified versions as you wish. With these four freedoms, users have full control of their own computers, and can use their computers to cooperate in a community. Freedoms 0 and 2 directly benefit all users, since all users can exercise them. Freedoms 1 and 3, only programmers can directly exercise, but everyone benefits from them, because everyone can adopt (or not) the changes that programmers make. Thus, free software develops under the control of its users.

Non-free software, by contrast, keeps users divided and helpless. It is distributed in a social scheme designed to divide and subjugate. The developers of non-free software have power over their users, and they use this power to the detriment of users in various ways. It is common for non-free software to contain malicious features, features that exist not because the users want them, but because the developers want to force them on the users. The aim of the free software movement is to escape from non-free software.

JP: What was your history with the free software movement?

RMS: I launched the movement in 1983 with a deliberate decision to develop a complete world of free software. The idea is not just to produce a scattering of free programs that were nice to use. Rather, the idea is to systematically build free software so that one can escape completely from non-free software. Non-free software is basically antisocial, it subjugates it users, and it should not exist. So what I wanted was to create a community in which it does not exist. A community where we would escape from non-free software into freedom.

The first collection of programs you need in order to escape non-free software is an operating system. With an operating system, you can do a lot of things with your computer. Without an operating system, even if you have a lot of applications, you cannot do anything — you cannot run them without an operating system. In 1983 all operating systems were proprietary. That meant that the first step you had to take in using a computer was to give up your freedom: they required users to sign a contract, a promise not to share, just to get an executable version that you couldn’t look at or understand. In order to use your computer you had to sign something saying you would betray your community.

Thus, I needed to create a free operating system. It happened that operating system development was my field, so I was technically suited for the task. It was also the first job that had to be done.

The operating system we created was compatible with Unix, and was called GNU. GNU stands for “GNU is Not Unix”, and the most important thing about GNU is that it is not Unix. Unix is a non-free operating system, and you are not allowed to make a free version of Unix. We developed a free system that is like Unix, but not Unix. We wrote all the parts of it from scratch.

In 1983, there were hundreds of components to the Unix operating system. We began the long process of replacing them one by one. Some of the components took a few days, others took a year or several.

By 1992, we had all of the essential components except one: the kernel. The kernel is one of the major essential components of the system. In GNU, we began developing a kernel in 1990. I chose the initial design based on a belief that it would be a quick design to implement. My choice backfired and it took much longer than I’d hoped. In 1992, the Linux kernel was liberated. It had been released in 1991, but on a non-free license. In 1992 the developer changed the license for the kernel, making it free. That meant we had a free operating system, which I call “GNU/Linux’ or “GNU plus Linux’.

However, when this combination was made, the users got confused, and began to call the whole thing “Linux’. That is not very nice.

First of all, it isn’t nice because there are thousands of people involved in the GNU project who deserve a share of the credit. We started the project, and did the biggest part of the work, so we deserve to get equal mention. (Some people believe that the kernel alone is more important than the rest of the operating system. This belief appears to result from an attempt to construct a justification for the “Linux” misnomer.)

But there is more at stake than just credit: the GNU Project was a campaign for freedom, and Linux was not. The developer of Linux had other motives, motives that were more personal. That does not diminish the value of his contribution. His motives were not bad. He developed the system in order to amuse himself and learn. Amusing oneself is good — programming is great fun. Wanting to learn is also good. But Linux was not designed with the goal of liberating cyberspace, and the motives for Linux would not have given us the whole GNU/Linux system.

Today tens of millions of users are using an operating system that was developed so they could have freedom — but they don’t know this, because they think the system is Linux and that it was developed by a student “just for fun’.

JP: So the GNU+Linux system is not an accident.

RMS: You cannot rely on accidents to defend freedom. Accidents can sometimes help, but you need people who are aware and determined to do this. Because it was not designed specifically for freedom, it is no coincidence that the first license to Linux was non-free. In fact I don’t know why he changed it.

JP: Does the difference between the GNU project and Linux relate to the difference between “free software’ and “open source’?

RMS: As GNU+Linux came to be used by thousands, and then hundreds of thousands, and then millions, they started to talk to each other: Look at how powerful, reliable, convenient, cheap, and fun this system is. Most people talking about it, though, never mentioned that it was about freedom. They never thought about it that way. And so our work spread to more people than our ideas did.

Linus Torvalds, the developer of Linux, never agreed with our ideas. He was not a proponent of the ethical aspects of our ideas or a critic of the antisocial nature of non-free software. He just claimed that our software was technically superior to particular competitors.

That claim happened to be true: in the 1990s, someone did a controlled experiment to measure the reliability of software, feeding random input sequences into different programs (Unix systems and GNU systems), and found GNU to be the most reliable. He repeated the tests years later, and GNU was still the most reliable.

The ideas of Torvalds led by 1996 to a division in the community on goals. One group was for freedom, the other for powerful and reliable software. There were regular public arguments. In 1998 the other camp chose the term “open source’ to describe their position. “Open source’ is not a movement, in my view. It is, perhaps, a collection of ideas, or a campaign.

JP: Since we will be talking about this more, perhaps now is a good time to define “movement’.

RMS: I don’t have a definition ready, I’ll have to think of one. Let us define it as a collection of people working to promote an ideal. Or maybe, an ideal, together with an activity to promote it.

JP: So, “open source’ is missing the ideal part?

RMS: They recommend a development methodology and claim that the model will produce superior software. If so, to us, it’s a bonus. Freedom often allows one to achieve convenience. I appreciate having more powerful software, and if freedom helps that, good. But for us in the free software movement that is secondary.

JP: And in fact one should be willing to sacrifice some power and convenience of the software for freedom.

RMS: Absolutely.

The Politics of Free Software

JP: Many of ZNet’s readers see themselves as part of some movement — anti-poverty, or anti-war, or for some other form of social change. Can you say something about why such folks ought to pay attention and relate to the free software movement?

RMS: If you are against the globalization of business power, you should be for free software.

JP: — But it isn’t the global aspect of business power, is it? If it were local business power, that wouldn’t be acceptable?

RMS: — People who say they are against globalization are really against the globalization of business power. They are not actually against globalization as such, because there are other kinds of globalization, the globalization of cooperation and sharing knowledge, which they are not against. Free software replaces business power with cooperation and the sharing of knowledge.

Globalizing a bad thing makes it worse. Business power is bad, so globalizing it is worse. But globalizing a good thing is usually good. Cooperation and sharing of knowledge are good, and when they happen globally, they are even better.

The kind of globalization there are demonstrations against is the globalization of business power. And free software is a part of that movement. It is the expression of the opposition to domination of software users by software developers.

JP: How would you respond to those who suggest that free software activists lack a sense of proportion? Given the vast scale and suffering of war, invasions, occupations, poverty, doesn’t the freedom to use computers pale to insignificance?

RMS: Maybe our views have been misrepresented. It is impossible for one person to be involved in all issues. It shouldn’t be surprising that a programmer would be involved where his skills and talents are most effective.

If I thought free software was the only or most important issue, I can see how people might think that that lacks proportion. But I do not think it is the only or most important issue. I just believe this is where I can do the most good.

A problem arises when people who might be sympathetic to our ethical position, but focus on other issues, fall into the habit of helping to pressure others into using non-free software. It falls to me to tell them they are doing so, that they with their own actions are giving certain large companies more power. When you send someone a “.doc’ file, a “Word’ file, or an audio or video file in RealPlayer or Quicktime format, you are actually pressuring someone to give up their freedom. Perhaps because I constantly have to bring this up, people believe I don’t have a sense of proportion.

Sometimes people take for granted that I will participate in those activities with them. Thus, when I webcast a speech, I have to ask which format it is going to be webcast in. I am not going to go along with a webcast of my speech about freedom that you have to give up your freedom in order to hear or watch. Once I put my coat over a camera before giving my speech, when I learned it was webcasting in RealPlayer format.

JP: Gandhi, in his “Hind Swaraj’, which was originally a series of newspaper articles, asked himself and answered a similar question. He was talking about how India had to get rid not only of British control, but of all of the bad attributes of “western civilization’. He asked himself: “How can one argue against western civilization using a printing press and writing in English’? His answer was that sometimes you have to use poison to kill poison.

RMS: But knowing English doesn’t subjugate — you didn’t have to give up any freedom in India to know English. And I imagine that in India, with so many different languages, there was no better language he could use to communicate.

JP: When you say there was no better language than English, are you suggesting that it becomes an ethical issue when there is an alternative, but not before?

RMS: It becomes an ethical issue when there is a restriction. The use of English might be good or bad for India, but knowing it doesn’t take away your freedom. India regained independence but didn’t get rid of English; in fact, I learned recently that there are people in India today whose first language is English and don’t speak other languages.

By contrast, to put RealPlayer on your computer, you actually have to give up some of your freedom.

JP: Should ZNet use free software?

RMS: The alternative is herding people into giving up their freedom, which is acting contrary to the spirit and purpose of Z.

Most people have not recognized that there is an ethical choice involved in the use of software, because most people have only seen proprietary software and have not begun to consider alternative social arrangements. Z Mag is accustomed to looking at the justice of social arrangements, and could help others consider the social arrangements about software.

JP: But is there still an ethical issue if there is no alternative? If, say, there is no free software way of doing a particular job, for ZNet for example?

RMS: One can live without doing those jobs.

JP: What criteria? How can one decide such a thing?

RMS: If you absolutely must do a particular job then you should contribute to the creation of a free replacement. If you are not a programmer, you can still find a way to contribute–such as by donating money so others can develop it.

JP: So can you see no circumstances in which using non-free software would be the lesser of evils?

RMS: There are some special circumstances. To develop GNU, I used Unix. But first, I thought about whether it would be ethical to do that.

I concluded it was legitimate to use Unix to develop GNU, because GNU’s purpose was to help everyone else stop using Unix sooner. We weren’t merely using Unix to do some worthwhile job, we were using it to end the specific evil that we were participating in.

JP: So for ZNet, you wouldn’t advocate something that involved losing readers, scaling back operations ?

RMS: You wouldn’t have to.

There is a University in Brazil that decided to switch entirely to free software, but they could not find free software to do certain necessary jobs, so they hired programmers to develop the free software. (This cost a part of the money they saved on license fees.) ZNet could do that, too. If you participate in development of the free replacement for a program, then you can excuse temporarily continuing to run it.

In the case of ZNet, I doubt you would need any free software that doesn’t exist. Web sites and magazines already run with free software exclusively. You could probably switch very easily.

Capitalism and Strategy

JP: I have read other interviews with you in which you said you are not anti-capitalist. I think a definition of capitalism might help here.

RMS: Capitalism is organizing society mainly around business that people are free to do within certain rules.

JP: Business?

RMS: I don’t have a definition of business ready. I think we know what business means.

JP: — But “anti-capitalists’ use a different definition. They see capitalism as markets, private property, and, fundamentally, class hierarchy and class division. Do you see class as fundamental to capitalism?

RMS: No. We have had a lot of social mobility, class mobility, in the United States. Fixed classes–which I do not like–are not a necessary aspect of capitalism.

However, I don’t believe that you can use social mobility as an excuse for poverty. If someone who is very poor has a 5% chance of getting rich, that does not justify denying that person food, shelter, clothing, medical care, or education. I believe in the welfare state.

JP: But you are not for equality of outcomes?

RMS: No, I’m not for equality of outcomes. I want to prevent horrible outcomes. But aside from keeping people safe from excruciating outcomes, I believe some inequality is unavoidable.

JP: Inequality based on how much effort people put forth?

RMS: Yes, but also luck.

JP: You don’t want society to reward luck, though.

RMS: Luck is just another word for chance. It is unavoidable that chance has an effect on your life. But poverty is avoidable. It is horrible for people to suffer hunger, death for lack of medical care, to work 12 hours a day just to survive. (Well, I work 12 hours a day, but that’s unpaid activism, not a job — so it’s ok.)

JP: You get the chance to exercise your talents, which is rewarding. Do you think society should reward people for their innate talents?

RMS: Not directly, but people can use their talents to do things. I don’t have a problem with someone using their talents to become successful, I just don’t think the highest calling is success. Things like freedom and the expansion of knowledge are beyond success, beyond the personal. Personal success is not wrong, but it is limited in importance, and once you have enough of it it is a shame to keep striving for that, instead of for truth, beauty, or justice.

I’m a Liberal, in US terms (not Canadian terms). I’m against fascism.

JP: A definition would help here too.

RMS: Fascism is a system of government that sucks up to business and has no respect for human rights. So the Bush regime is an example, but there are lots of others. In fact, it seems we are moving towards more fascism globally.

JP: It is interesting that you used the term “escape’ at the beginning of the interview. Most people who think about “movements’ think in terms of building an opposition, changing public opinion, and forcing concessions from the powerful.

RMS: What we are doing is direct action. I did not think I could get anywhere convincing the software companies to make free software if I did political activities, and in any case I did not have any talent or skills for it. So I just started writing software. I said, if those companies won’t respect our freedom, we’ll develop our own software that does.

JP: But if we are talking about governments and fascism, what do you do when they simply make your software illegal?

RMS: Well, then you are shafted. That is what has happened. Certain kinds of free software are illegal.

JP: What is an example?

RMS: Software to play DVDs. There is a program called DECSS still circulating underground. But not only has the US outlawed it, but the US is pressuring other countries to adopt the same censorship. Canada was considering it, I’m not sure how the case turned out. The European Union adopted a directive and now countries are implementing it with laws that are actually harsher than the directive.

JP: How do you deal with that?

RMS: We are trying to oppose it in the countries that have not passed it and, eventually, we hope to get it abolished and liberate the countries that have. We cannot do that by direct action, but developing the software can still be done underground. I think that, in the US, developing it and not distributing it is not illegal.

Free Software Movement Issues

JP: Let’s conclude with some of the other issues the free software movement is dealing with.

RMS: The main issues are hardware with secret specifications, software patents, and treacherous computing.

On hardware with secret specifications: it is hard to write free software for hardware whose specifications are secret. In the 1970s the computer company would hand you a manual with information about every level of interface, from the electrical signals to the software, so you could properly use their products. But for the past 10-15 years, there has been hardware whose specs are secret. Proprietary software developers can get the specs if they sign a non-disclosure agreement; the public cannot.

So we are forced to experiment and reverse-engineer, which takes time, or pressure the companies, which sometimes works. The worst example is in 3-D graphics, in which most chip specs are secret. One company has published its specs, and drivers have been written for another without help. But the company “NVidious’ (that’s what I call it) has not been co-operative, and I think people should not buy computers with its chips.

An illustration of software patents is excerpted from my op-ed from the UK Guardian:

A novel and a modern complex programme have certain points in common: each is large and implements many ideas. Suppose patent law had been applied to novels in the 1800s; suppose states such as France had permitted the patenting of literary ideas. How would this have affected Hugo’s writing? How would the effects of literary patents compare with the effects of literary copyright?

Consider the novel Les Misérables, written by Hugo. Because he wrote it, the copyright belonged only to him. He did not have to fear that some stranger could sue him for copyright infringement and win. That was impossible, because copyright covers only the details of a work of authorship, and only restricts copying. Hugo had not copied Les Misérables, so he was not in danger.

Patents work differently. They cover ideas - each patent is a monopoly on practising some idea, which is described in the patent itself.

Here’s one example of a hypothetical literary patent:

Claim 1: a communication process that represents, in the mind of a reader, the concept of a character who has been in jail for a long time and becomes bitter towards society and humankind.

Claim 2: a communication process according to claim 1, wherein said character subsequently finds moral redemption through the kindness of another.

Claim 3: a communication process according to claims 1 and 2, wherein said character changes his name during the story.

If such a patent had existed in 1862 when Les Misérables was published, the novel would have infringed all three claims - all these things happened to Jean Valjean in the novel. Hugo could have been sued, and would have lost. The novel could have been prohibited - in effect, censored - by the patent holder.

Now consider this hypothetical literary patent:

Claim 1: a communication process that represents in the mind of a reader the concept of a character who has been in jail for a long time and subsequently changes his name.

Les Misérables would have infringed that patent too, because this description too fits the life story of Jean Valjean. And here’s another hypothetical patent:

Claim 1: a communication process that represents in the mind of a reader the concept of a character who finds moral redemption and then changes his name.

Jean Valjean would have infringed this patent too.

These three patents would all cover the story of one character in a novel. They overlap, but they do not precisely duplicate each other, so they could all be valid simultaneously; all three patent holders could have sued Victor Hugo. Any one of them could have prohibited publication of Les Misérables.

Other aspects of Les Misérables could also have run afoul of patents. For instance, there could have been a patent on a fictionalized portrayal of the Battle of Waterloo, or a patent on using Parisian slang in fiction. Two more lawsuits. In fact, there is no limit to the number of different patents that might have been applicable for suing the author of a work such as Les Misérables. All the patent holders would say they deserved a reward for the literary progress that their patented ideas represent, but these obstacles would not promote progress in literature, they would only obstruct it.

This analogy can help non-programmers see what software patents do. Software patents cover features, such as defining abbreviations in a word processor, or natural order recalculation in a spreadsheet. Patents cover algorithms that programs need to use. Patents cover aspects of file formats, such as Microsoft’s new formats for Word files. MPEG 2 video format is covered by 39 different US patents.

Just as one novel could infringe many different literary patents at once, one program can infringe many different patents at once. It is so much work to identify all the patents infringed by a large program that only one such study has been done. A 2004 study of Linux, the kernel of the GNU/Linux operating system, found it infringed 283 different US software patents. That is to say, each of these 283 different patents covers some computational process found somewhere in the thousands of pages of source code of Linux.

That’s why software patents act like landmines for software developers. And for software users, since the users can be sued too.

Treacherous computing is a plan to change the design of future PCs so that they will obey software developers instead of you. From the purpetrators’ point of view, it is “trusted”, so they call it “trusted computing”; from the user’s point of view, it is treacherous. Which name you call it expresses whose side you’re on. The new XBox is a preview–it is designed to prevent the user from installing any software without getting Microsoft’s authorization. Here’s more explanation from my essay, ‘Can you trust your computer’:

www.gnu.org/philosop…

The technical idea underlying treacherous computing is that the computer includes a digital encryption and signature device, and the keys are kept secret from you. Proprietary programs will use this device to control which other programs you can run, which documents or data you can access, and what programs you can pass them to. These programs will continually download new authorization rules through the Internet, and impose those rules automatically on your work. If you don’t allow your computer to obtain the new rules periodically from the Internet, some capabilities will automatically cease to function.

Programs that use treacherous computing will continually download new authorization rules through the Internet, and impose those rules automatically on your work. If Microsoft, or the US government, does not like what you said in a document you wrote, they could post new instructions telling all computers to refuse to let anyone read that document. Each computer would obey when it downloads the new instructions. Your writing would be subject to 1984-style retroactive erasure. You might be unable to read it yourself.

Treacherous computing puts the existence of free operating systems and free applications at risk, because you may not be able to run them at all. Some versions of treacherous computing would require the operating system to be specifically authorized by a particular company. Free operating systems could not be installed. Some versions of treacherous computing would require every program to be specifically authorized by the operating system developer. You could not run free applications on such a system. If you did figure out how, and told someone, that could be a crime.

Hate Work (Left)
Man’s tragic flaw has led this beautiful planet towards self destruction (initially he was not supposed to reach the dollar but age stretched the rubber band and i dont have the heart to take it away from him now, he earned it)
By Pat Dyer
Acrylic on wood

Renegade tribes feeling the push for progress (Right)
About 20 million years ago, somewhere in Africa, ape-like creatures, came down out of the trees and began to live on the ground. The story of human life is about adaptation. About 10 thousand years ago, man became an agriculturalist. Settlement gave rise to division of labour; division of labour gave rise to technology; technology gave rise to trade and commerce, with limited resources.
By Pat Dyer
Marker and paint on canvas