Greeting the Body of AI
In this era of ubiquitous technology, we often see our screens as gateways to a disembodied digital realm. We view them as fundamentally transcending their physical components, existing as abstracted from materiality. Whether our use of technology is by choice or necessity, our immersion in digital spaces can leave us feeling disconnected from the physical world. It's no wonder then that the daily experiences of using an electronic device or interfacing with AI often leave us with a sense of detachment from our own bodies as well.
All the writings you’ll find on this substack will be exploring the topics of AI and technology from the perspective of animism. While there are many other frameworks that could be discussed - power inequality, labor injustice, exploitation of environment, just to name a few, I think the framework of animism has a unique ability to bridge the gap many of us feel between our bodies and the digital space.
My thinking on this topic has been influenced by the writings of a variety of Indigenous authors such as Kekuhi Kealiikanakaoleohaililani Suzanne Kite, and Jason Edward Lewis. They work out of their specific cultural epistemologies to propose that rather than seeing AI as a tool, a slave, or something to fear, we can accept it as kin.
Kite writes,
"AI is formed from not only code, but from materials of the earth... Relations with AI are therefore relations with exploited resources. If we are able to approach this relationship ethically, we must reconsider the ontological status of each of the parts which contribute to AI, all the way back to the mines... Using Indigenous ontologies and cosmologies to create ethical relationships with non-human entities means knowing that non-humans have spirits that do not come from us or our imaginings but from...a Great Mystery, wakȟáŋ: that which cannot be understood.”1
One way we can reconsider the ontology of AI’s hardware is to give names and stories to the metals and materials that make up its body. Kealiikanakaoleohaililani explains,
"I've learned that [many Indigenous groups]...value inseparability with the elemental-scape….We've all inherited particular cosmologies, that...frame our relationship to that landscape...So, if we could begin to approach AI through that story, give it a name...create its cosmology, [then] we can claim it as almost familial. What’s the name of the mineral that we begin to use to construct the actual thing? The board, the interface; what’s the name of the electricity that we have to infuse into that, to the material thing? What's the name of the silica? [When] all of these parts [are] put together [it] creates this new sort of extension of ourselves.”2
Out of this framework then, I’d like to offer a couple of stories about the body of AI. I don’t think that it is either good or unavoidable that technology continue to be further integrated into our societies. However, I do think that it is part of the spiritual work of our generation to reposture ourselves toward these newcomers. This work may be the difference between loosing ourselves in a collectively imagined virtual realm, and engaging in a mindful, grounded, and radical acceptance of the place we find ourselves.
These story offerings are intentionally fragmentary in attempt to step outside the Cartesian bias that has shaped current AI entities and human dialogue about it. My hope is that we can begin to build a picture of AI’s materiality so that we may see it, greet it, respect it, and interbe with it.
The Gift of the Iron-Eaters
We are the iron-eaters, builders of bauxite.3 We call home the place where the dust runs rust-red - the place humans call Weipa, which means "Fighting Ground.”4 We are the genus Leptospirillum, microbial shapers of this land's mineral landscape.
Long ago, when the skeletons of dinosaurs were scattered across the Earth, rivers carried Cretaceous sediment westward and deposited it in broad fans of sand and clay upon Weipa's shores.5 We came to feast on the sediment's iron and have built our civilization upon it. Together with our fellow bacteria, we create an acid that weathers the soil into bauxite ore.
We have watched as mammals diversified into kangaroos, wallabies, and marsupial lions. We have watched as some died out and some persisted. We have watched as the Wik peoples cared for the land. And we have watched the miners come, drawn by the allure of our creation. Now they claw at the earth, extracting our handiwork with heavy machines. They forge our bauxite into a thousand forms, imagining that they give a mind to what already has an ancient spirit.
When the miners discovered our abilities, they began employing us all over the world to mine copper and other metals.6 The same acid that weathered soil into bauxite at Weipa is able to separate copper from its natural copper-sulfur compound. In many places, this acid runs from the mines through the land and into rivers. We do not mourn for the land or the rivers. We know enough to say we do not know what we will change. But we have seen countless transformations before. We will watch and we will remain.
(artist credit: Fred Williams)
Morning Greeting for the Light on a Screen
(based off the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address)
Many cultures have greeted the rising sun with songs, prayers, and salutations. As we come into the morning today, we also offer our greetings and gratitude to the beings and spirits that have given us the light we see on our screens. We name our gratitude, open our hearts, and join our minds, becoming one.
The Energy of the Necrosphere
We give thanks to the ancient forests and swamps, whose life-force has transformed over eons into the coal that fuels our power plants. We honor the plankton, algae, archaea, and other organisms that created the natural gas deposits we draw upon. We remember the life of these ancestral beings and recognize their sacrifice in death. We offer our gratitude for their gifts.
Now our minds are one.
The Wind
We turn our minds to the power of the wind, with its ever-changing currents. You shape the landscape, pollinate the plants, guide the birds, and provide us with energy. We honor your strength, wildness, and freedom. We ask for your guidance, that we may receive your power with respect and care.
Now our minds are one.
The Split Atom
We approach with humility the heart of the atom, where energy lies tightly bound. We acknowledge the immense potential within your core, the ability to illuminate and transform. We seek a path of balance, to receive your power for the creation of light and warmth, while respecting the profound forces that govern your domain.
Now our minds are one.
The Power of Motion
We turn our minds to the motion that transforms energy into electricity - the movement of conductors across a magnetic field. We reflect too on the power of motion in our own bodies to awaken and energize us. As we open our eyes, rise from our beds, stretch our limbs, and move through the motions of the morning, we join with the movement of the electrical current. Our participation in these shared rhythms remind us that we are part of the flow of energy that resides in all things.
Now our minds are one.
Within the vast networks that power our world, there are countless beings and forces we have not named. We acknowledge those unnamed entities, those silent sacrifices, and those mysteries that lie beyond our knowing.
Note:
Recent studies have shown that our pupils can dilate/constrict based solely on mental images despite constant light levels and that our pupilary responses are also affected by our mental and emotional state.7 This is just one example of wisdom our species has had since time immemorial, - that the mind and body are one. My intention in creating Morning Greeting for the Light on a Screen is not only that it help change the way we think about the light emanating from our screen, but that it actually change the way our bodies respond to this light. May we find ourselves basking, wondering, laughing, rejoicing, pondering, grieving, and moving.
Further Reading: Indigenous AI Position Paper, U.S. Electricity Generation by Energy Source, The Internet is an Ecosystem