#yuk-hui — Public Fediverse posts

The Deep Dark Terroir of the Soul

This is the third and final part of the Thicket Series:
Part 1: Logic of the Thicket and the Unsearchable Web
Part 2: The Architecture of Resistance

The history of the working subject might be best understood not as a ledger of wages or a sequence of industrial breakthroughs, but as a study in the migration of the Master. In the eighteenth century, the Master was a concrete presence, a figure residing in the castle or the cathedral, distinct from the worker by a physical and social chasm. One knew where the authority lived because one could see the smoke from its chimneys. By the nineteenth century, this figure had moved into the factory office, closer to the rhythm of the machine but still identifiable by the suit and the watch. The twentieth century saw a further dissolution; the Master became atmospheric, blending into the very walls of the institutions that housed us—the schools, the hospitals, the barracks.

And yet, it is in the twenty-first century that we witness the final and perhaps most unsettling migration. The Master has moved inside. It has taken up residence within the worker’s own mind, adopting the voice of the ego and the language of self-optimization. This internal migration has fundamentally altered the nature of exhaustion, shifting it from the physical depletion of the muscle to a profound infarction of the soul. To understand how we might resist such an intimate occupation, we must trace the lineage of this fatigue, moving from Voltaire’s eighteenth-century refuge of the Garden to the contemporary diagnosis of the Burnout Society, and finally, to an emerging architecture of resistance that might be called the Logic of the Thicket.

The story begins in 1759, amid the wreckage of a world governed by grand, often violent, narratives. When Voltaire published Candide, the prevailing philosophical mood was one of forced optimism. Leibniz had posited that we lived in “the best of all possible worlds,” a claim that felt increasingly like a cruel joke to those living through the arbitrary brutalities of the era—the Lisbon earthquake, the Seven Years’ War, and the relentless inquisitions of both church and state. For the subject of the 1700s, the Master was external and undeniable. Life was a sequence of calamities administered from above.

In the final pages of Candide, after a lifetime spent traversing a world of rape, slavery, and disaster in search of Leibnizian meaning, the protagonist reaches a quiet, radical conclusion. He rejects the grand debates and the lofty theorizing of his companions with a simple, grounded imperative: Il faut cultiver notre jardin—we must cultivate our garden.

At this historical juncture, the Garden was more than a hobby; it was a strategy of containment. It served as a physical and psychological wall against a world that had grown too chaotic to manage. Voltaire suggested that simple, manual labor was the only effective shield against the primary threats of the human condition, which he identified as the Three Evils: Boredom, Vice, and Need. In the Garden, work was a form of retreat. It solved the problem of Need by providing physical sustenance—potatoes and produce—at a time when biological survival was never guaranteed. It addressed Boredom by occupying the hands and the mind with the repetitive, rhythmic care of the earth, saving the worker from the existential dread of idleness. And it warded off Vice by providing a sanctuary from the moral decay of the court and the city, replacing political intrigue with the honest friction of the soil.

The Garden was a place of safety because it was bounded. To work was to narrow one’s world to the reach of one’s own hands, creating a small, controllable private sphere where the Master’s voice was, for a moment, silenced by the sounds of the harvest.

However, this sanctuary could not withstand the arrival of the steam engine. As the nineteenth century progressed, the Garden was paved over by the Factory. The peasantry was pulled from the land and funneled into the burgeoning cities, where the nature of labor underwent a violent transformation. Karl Marx, observing this shift, identified the collapse of Voltaire’s dream. In the industrial setting, the worker could no longer cultivate a garden because they owned neither the seeds nor the harvest. They did not even own their own time.

This was the era of Coercion. Marx’s diagnosis of Alienation described a worker severed from the product of their labor, from the act of production, and from their own Gattungswesen, species-essence. The Master was now the Capitalist, and exhaustion was a physical reality—a depletion of calories and muscle. Resistance, accordingly, was also physical: the strike, the riot, the seizure of the machine. The goal was to reclaim the physical Garden that had been stolen.

As we moved into the twentieth century, the nature of control shifted again. Physical coercion, while effective, was inefficient; it bred visible resentment and the constant threat of revolution. Systemic power realized it was far more effective to train workers to police themselves. Michel Foucault described this as the Disciplinary Society, where the factory model was replicated across all social institutions. The governing logic became the Panopticon—the internalized gaze. The worker of this era was a docile body, governed by the operating verb Should. You should be on time; you should follow procedure. While the Master was becoming more abstract—a set of norms rather than a man in a tall hat—the enemy was still technically outside. There was still a door one could walk through at the end of a shift.

The true transformation occurred at the turn of the twenty-first century, a transition captured with clinical precision by Byung-Chul Han. Han argues that the Disciplinary Society has collapsed, replaced by the Achievement Society. The modal verb has shifted from Should to Can. The demand is no longer “You must obey,” but “Yes, you can.”

This shift has proven catastrophic for the psyche. In the old world of coercion, there was a limit; when the shift was over, the worker was, in a sense, free. But in the Achievement Society, the worker is an “entrepreneur of the self.” We are no longer exploited by an external boss so much as we exploit ourselves. We voluntarily work eighty hours a week not because of a threat of the lash, but because of a desire to “optimize” our personal brands and “reach our potential.”

The Master has completed its migration. We carry the Panopticon in our pockets and in our egos. In this state, the Garden is no longer a retreat; it has become a performance stage. We still cultivate, but we do so frantically, documenting the process for the digital gaze, tracking our productivity metrics, and feeling a gnawing guilt that our harvest isn’t as aesthetic or impactful as our neighbor’s. The boundary between the private and the public has dissolved into a smooth, legible –searchable– surface.

In this environment of total transparency, the Three Evils have mutated into contemporary monsters. Need is no longer about physical starvation; it has become Status Anxiety—the insatiable requirement for recognition and digital legibility. Boredom has been replaced by Hyper-Attention; we are never idle, but we are never at rest, trapped in a shallow, frantic multitasking that Han calls the “vice of the click.” And Vice itself has become Self-Exploitation—the auto-aggression of working oneself into a depression under the guise of self-fulfillment.

By 2024, the smoothness of our digital existence had become total. Silicon Valley had successfully turned the world into a frictionless landscape where data and capital flow without resistance. Algorithms now manage the Uber driver and the freelance coder alike, using gamification to nudge behavior through a mathematical black box. We have become Tourists in a digital world built by others, wandering through clean, well-lit interfaces that prioritize searchability, SEO, above all else. If a thing is legible, it can be indexed; if it is indexed, it can be exploited.

This brings us to the threshold of 2025 and the emerging response found in the Logic of the Thicket. If the Garden was a strategy of containment and the Factory was a site of coercion, the Thicket is a strategy of opacity.

A thicket is not a garden. It is messy, dense, and difficult to navigate. It does not possess the neat rows or the clear boundaries of Voltaire’s refuge. Instead, it is defined by friction. To resist the smoothness of the modern Achievement Society, the worker must transition from being a Tourist to being an Explorer. The Tourist consumes intelligibility—the ease of the app, the clarity of the interface. The Explorer, by contrast, generates place through the introduction of friction.

The Logic of the Thicket suggests that we cannot return to the eighteenth-century Garden. The walls are too brittle; databases will index the soil and an AI will recommend the fertilizer before the first seed is planted. Instead, the modern subject must create contexts that are unsearchable. This does not mean a total withdrawal from the world, but rather an engagement on terms that are too complex, too local, and too nuanced for an algorithm to easily optimize.

We might re-examine Voltaire’s Three Evils through the lens of this new architecture to see if the Thicket offers a viable path forward.

First, consider the evil of Need. In our current context, Need has become the fear of Irrelevance. In a smooth world, the worker is a standard, interchangeable part. If your work is legible—easy to measure and automate—you live in constant fear of economic obsolescence. This is the condition of the smooth professional: the software engineer whose code is indistinguishable from the output of a Large Language Model, the copywriter producing content that mirrors a thousand other blog posts, or the middle manager whose primary function is the transmission of standardized project plans. These roles are vulnerable because they lack friction; they offer no resistance to the efficiency of the machine.

The Thicket addresses this through the concept of Terroir. In the culinary world, terroir refers to the specific qualities of soil, climate, and tradition that give a wine or a cheese its unreplicable character. In the world of labor, terroir is the infusion of one’s work with local context, historical depth, and human idiosyncrasy.

For this blog, the terroir is found in the deliberate, often difficult work of communal deep-reading and historical synthesis. Here, history is not viewed as a sequence of headlines, but as a series of vast, slow-moving machines—intellectual contraptions that take centuries to build and even longer to fully start. By examining the past through this mechanical lens, the thinker begins to see the world not as a “smooth” stream of current events, but as a dense thicket of long-term trajectories.

The process behind this blog—reading deep into difficult texts, engaging in exhaustive discussions with other thinkers, and synthesizing these influences through a deliberate collaboration with artificial intelligence—is itself a “thick” form of labor. It is a method of finalizing thought that creates a durable value, one that cannot be mimicked by a prompt-engineered shortcut. By making your work “thick”—laden with specific references, local nuances, and the friction of deep thought—you make yourself un-automatable. The machine can navigate a smooth database, but it struggles to traverse a thicket of idiosyncratic human insights that are anchored in the deep time of historical machinery. The Thicket ensures survival not by making the worker more efficient, but by making them indispensable through their unique, unsearchable “friction.”

Next, the evil of Boredom has mutated into Passive Consumption. We are over-stimulated but spiritually idle, doom-scrolling through a world where nothing we do actually changes the environment. We are Tourists in the digital landscape, consuming the “intelligibility” of others. The Thicket solves this by demanding active navigation. In a world where algorithms predict what we want before we know it, the Thicket reintroduces the struggle of discovery. You cannot be “bored” when you are bushwhacking through a complex structure of your own making, or when you are trying to understand the slow grinding of a historical machine that began its first revolution centuries ago. The joy of the Thicket is the joy of the Explorer—the realization that the landscape is resisting you, and that you must exert agency to move through it.

Finally, Vice has become Algorithmic Complicity—the moral laziness of letting an interface decide who we speak to, what we read, and how we spend our time. It is the vice of “disindividuation,” allowing ourselves to be smoothed down into a demographic data point. The Thicket forces a return to Virtue through Agency. To build a thicket is to refuse to be effortlessly “known.” It requires the “virtue” of privacy and the patience of shared inquiry. A “network” is smooth; you connect with a click. A “community” is a thicket; it requires negotiation, trust, and the willingness to engage with the “messiness” of other people. It requires the slow effort to inhabit a text that refuses to be summarized by an executive summary or a bulleted list.

The journey from 1759 to 2025 is a circle that does not quite close. Voltaire’s worker fled the violence of kings into the Garden, seeking a physical retreat. Marx’s worker lost that garden and fought to reclaim the tools. Han’s worker internalized the factory, turning their own mind into a sweatshop of positivity. And the worker of 2025 now realizes that the mind itself has been mapped.

The only remaining escape is to leave the Garden—which has become a trap of transparency—and enter the Thicket. There is a critical difference here: the Garden was intended to be safe, but the Thicket is defensive. It is a posture for a hostile territory. It saves us from Boredom by making life difficult again. It saves us from Vice by requiring conscious choice rather than algorithmic default. And it saves us from Need by ensuring we remain human enough that the machines cannot find a way to replace the specific texture of our presence.

It is a harder path than the one Candide chose, but in a world where the Master lives in the code, it may be the only path left. The mandate for the contemporary soul is no longer simply to cultivate, but to grow something so dense and so deeply rooted that the algorithm, for all its processing power, simply cannot find the way in. We look toward the edge of the woods, not for a way out, but for a way to disappear into the depth of the growth.

Coda: The Machinery of the Thicket

This essay is not merely a reflection on labor; it is a byproduct of the very “Logic of the Thicket” it describes. To write it was to engage in a form of “thick” labor—a deliberate resistance to the high-speed, surface-level synthesis typical of the Achievement Society. Below is the intellectual architecture and the process that generated this piece.

The Conceptual Bedrock

The essay’s trajectory is built on a specific lineage of thinkers who have tracked the migration of power from the town square into the central nervous system:

• Voltaire (Candide, 1759): Provides the initial defensive posture—the Garden. His “Three Evils” (Boredom, Vice, Need) serve as the recurring benchmarks for human exhaustion.1
• Karl Marx: Used here to mark the collapse of the private garden. The transition from Sustenance to Alienationis the first great rupture in the history of the working subject.
• Michel Foucault: His concept of the Disciplinary Society and the Panopticon explains how the Master became “atmospheric.” It is the era of the “Should.”
• Byung-Chul Han (The Burnout Society): The pivotal contemporary influence. Han’s shift from the “Should” (Foucault) to the “Can” (Achievement) explains why modern exhaustion is an “infarction of the soul.”
• Yuk Hui: His work on Technodiversity and the “recursive” nature of history informs the transition from the Tourist to the Explorer. He suggests that we cannot escape technology, but we must diversify our localrelationship to it.

The Process: Generating “Terroir”

The writing of this piece followed a “thick” methodology designed to avoid the “smooth” output of standard digital content:

1. Deep Reading as Resistance: Instead of relying on summaries, the process involved “bushwhacking” through the primary texts. This creates Friction—the slow realization of meaning that cannot be automated.
2. Mechanical Synthesis: Viewing history as a series of Slow-Moving Machines. By treating the transition from the Printing Press to the LLM as a mechanical evolution rather than just “progress,” we can see the gears of authority shifting.
3. Collaborative Friction (AI as a Grinding Stone): Rather than using AI to generate the text, it was used as a sparring partner to test the “thickness” of the ideas. If the AI could predict the next point too easily, the point was discarded as being “too smooth.”
4. The Infusion of Local Context: The essay intentionally uses specific, non-indexable metaphors—like the Thicket and Terroir—to anchor the abstract philosophy in a visceral, earthy reality.

The Goal: The Unsearchable Life

The ultimate aim of this “Coda” is to encourage the reader to see their own intellectual life as a Terroir. The “Master in the code” thrives on standardized, legible data. By engaging in deep history, difficult synthesis, and private creation, you grow a thicket. You become a “place” that is too complex for a map, a subject that is too dense for an algorithm, and a worker whose exhaustion is finally, once again, your own.

#AchievementSociety #AI #AlgorithmicComplicity #Alienation #Art #artificialIntelligence #Automation #BurnoutSociety #ByungChulHan #Candide #CriticalTheory #CulturalCritique #DeepDarkTerroir #DeepReading #DigitalSmoothness #DigitalThicket #Enlightenment #Friction #HistoricalMachinery #history #HistoryOfLabor #HumanAgency #InfarctionOfTheSoul #KarlMarx #LLMs #MichelFoucault #Opacity #philosophy #PostDigital #Resistance #SelfOptimization #SlowWeb #SpeciesEssence #SpeculativeNonFiction #SystemsTheory #Technodiversity #technology #TheDisciplinarySociety #TheExplorerVsTheTourist #TheGarden #TheMaster #ThePanopticon #Unsearchable #Voltaire #writing #YukHui

Teknopolitika baterako perspektiba eta ideiak

Teknopolitika, azken batean, boterearen teknologia bat da. Ez tresna bat, ezta zerbitzu bat ere: gizartearen antolamendua, parte-hartzea, kontrola eta askapena eraldatzeko modu bat da. Teknologiak, funtsean, munduaren ulermen eta eraikuntza jakin bat islatzen du: zein balio, zein harreman eta zein helbururekin bideratzen ditugun.

Horregatik, teknopolitikaren muinean dago teknologia, hau ulertzeko eta garatzeko gaitasuna berreskuratzea da teknologia burujabetza. Burujabetzaz hitz egitea ez da soilik tresna alternatiboak erabiltzea; baizik eta egitura, logika eta jabetza kolektiboan oinarritutako teknologia baten alde egitea. Hau da, teknologiaren politizazioa, haren neutrotasun faltsua kolokan jarriz.

Jorge Oteizak esaten zuen espazio hustua ez dela hutsala, baizik eta hutsunearen egitura bat. Antzera, teknologiak ez du neutroa izatea posible: beti dakar bere egitura propioa, bere logika, bere botere-harremanak. Teknologia tresna huts gisa ikusteak ezkutatzen du teknologiak berak nola egituratu duen gure mundu soziala, politikoa eta ekonomikoa.

Guiomar Rovira ikerlariak teknopolitikaren bi ardatz proposatzen ditu ulertzen laguntzeko. Lehena: zentralizatua versus deszentralizatua. Goitik beherakoa ala behetik gorakoa. Erakundeek kontrola indartzeko erabiltzen dute teknologia —zelatatze bidez, adibidez— ala herritarrek eta gizarte-mugimenduek ahalduntzeko, koordinatzeko eta ordenari aurre egiteko erabiltzen dute?

Bigarren ardatza: askatzailea versus determinista. Teknologia norberaren burujabetzara eta ekintza kolektibora bideratua dago, ala interes korporatiboen eta gizarte-kontrolaren zerbitzura?

Gure garaiko erronka nagusienetakoa da teknopolitika determinista, zentralizatua eta korporatiboa gainditzea. Bi ardatz hauek gurutzatzen direnean mapa bat sortzen dute non gure egoera kokatu dezakegun. Eta egoera argia da: gaur egun, teknologiaren ulerkera nagusia kapitalismoaren logikek bahituta dago.

Bektorialismoa: XXI. mendeko klase borroka berria

Teknologiaren ulerkera nola egituratu den ulertzeko, McKenzie Wark-en analisia ezinbestekoa da. marxiar analisi klasikora klase berri bat gehitzen dio: klase bektorialista.

Historikoki lurjabeek lurra kontrolatu dute eta nekazariei errentak kobratu dizkiete; kapitalistek ekoizpen-baliabideak kontrolatu dituzte eta langileei soldatak ordaindu dizkiete, lanaren balio osoaren zati bat bakarrik emanez. Baina XXI. mendean aldaketa kualitatibo bat gertatu da.

Klase bektorialistak ez ditu fabrikak kontrolatzen —hainbat multinazional handik fabrikak deslokalizatu egin dituzte gainera—. Beraien boterea abstrakzioak kontrolatzetik eta informazioa zirkulatzen duten bektoreak kontrolatzetik dator. Zer dira bektore hauek? Google-k bilatzailearen algoritmoa. Amazon-ek logistikaren sistema. Meta-k sare sozialaren konexioak. Uber-rek garraio plataforma. Ezinbesteko bitartekari bihurtu dute beren burua (edo paper hori eman diegu), haiek gabe ez duzu produktu edo zerbitzu askotarako sarbiderik.

Wark-en arabera gizartearen gehiengoak informazio berria sortzen du —hacker klasea, zentzurik zabalenean: programatzaileak, ikertzaileak, eduki-sortzaileak, baita erabiltzaile arruntak ere datu-sortzaile gisa—. Baina klase bektorialistak jabetzen da informazio horren balioaren erauzketa-gaitasunaz. Patenteak eta copyrightak ez dira sortzaileengan geratzen, baizik eta bektoreak kontrolatzen dituzten korporazioetan.

Adibide bat: guk guztiok sortzen dugu eduki digitala —argazkiak, testuak, bideoak, iruzkinak—. Baina nor ari da aberasten datu horiekin? Haiek kontrolatzen dute bektorea, zirkulazio-moduak. Guk informazioa ematen dugu doan, eta haiek bihurtzen dute merkantzia salgarri.

Hacker lemak zioen “informazioak askatasuna nahi du”. Informazioa kopiatzea ia doakoa da, ez du eskasia naturalik. Baina klase bektorialistak jabetza pribatuaren araudiaren bidez urritasun artifiziala sortzen du. Eta horrela lortu egiten du informazioa ondasun komun izateari uztea eta merkantzia espekulatibo bihurtzea.

Hau da, bizi dugun teknopolitika determinista eta zentralizatuaren egitura: informazioa merkantzia bihurtzea eta horien zirkulazio-bideak monopolizatzea. Horren aurrean, badugu zer eraiki teknologia eredu burujabeagoak izan nahi baditugu.

Kosmoteknia eta Tequiologia: Teknologiaren ulerkera dekolonizatu

Teknologia burujabetza ez da soilik tresna alternatiboak edukitzea. Lehen pausoa da teknologiaren ulerkera propioa berreskuratzea. Yuk Hui filosofo txinatarraren kosmoteknia kontzeptua proposatzen digu horretarako.º

Hui-k defendatzen du teknologia ez dela unibertsala ezta neutroa ere. Kultura bakoitzak bere teknologiak garatzen ditu bere ikuspegi edo kosmobisio balioetan oinarrituta. Adibidez, txinatar kosmoteknia harmonia eta zikloen filosofian oinarritzen da. Mendebaldeko modernitate industriala, berriz, teknologia dominazio eta kontrol tresna gisa ulertu du: natura menderatzeko, denbora optimizatzeko, eraginkortasuna maximizatzeko.

Ez dago “teknologia” abstraktua, unibertsal eta ahistorikorik. Gaur egun munduan nagusi den teknologiaren ulerkera —kapitalismoaren logikan bahitutakoa— ez da teknologia ulertzeko modu “naturala” edo bakarra. Mendebaldeko modernitatearen produktu historikoa da.

Yasnaya Elena Aguilar Gil-ek, Mixe herritik, perspektiba hau areagotzen du tequiologia kontzeptua proposatuz. Tequio Mexikoko jatorrizko komunitateetan ohikoa den lan kolektibo eta solidarioan oinarritzen da —gure euskal auzolanaren parekoa—.

Aguilar Gil-ek kritika zorrotza egiten dio mendebaldeko teknologiaren ulerkerari: kapitalistak bahitu du, berrikuntza eta sormen teknologikoa kapitalaren metaketaren zerbitzura jarrita. Ondorioz, teknologia kontsumitzeko ondasun bihurtu da. Software pribatiboarekin gertatzen den bezala: ezagutza metatuz sortutako tresna horiek erabiltzeko ordaindu beharra dugu.

Tequiologia-k, berriz, teknologiaren ulerkera bestelakoa proposatzen du: komunitate-loturak eta autonomia indartzen dituzten teknologiak, non ongizate komuna onura indibidualaren gainetik lehenesten den. Teknologia ez da kontsumitzeko, baizik eta elkarrekin eraikitzeko eta partekatutako beharrak asetzeko.

Teknologia ulertzeko modu honek esan nahi du software librea, datu irekiak, ezagutza partekatua ez direla utopia abstraktuak, baizik eta teknologiaren ulerkera ezberdin baten ondorio koherenteak. Hau da komunitateen autonomia teknologikoa eraikitzeko oinarria.

Cyberfeminismoa: Teknologia “feminizatua”?

Sadie Plant-ek, cyberfeminismoaren aitzindarietako batek, teknologia eta generoaren arteko harremana beste ikuspegi batetik aztertzen du. 1990eko hamarkadan, Plant-ek tesi ausarta defendatu zuen: teknologia eta emakumeak antzeko ezaugarri funtzionalak dituzte historikoki.

Biak izan dira objektuak patriarkatuarentzat. Plant-ek dioena da teknologia digitalak —sareak, sistema konplexuak— ezaugarri “femeninotzat” hartzen direnak erakusten dituela: ez lineala, konexionala, autoantolakuntza, fluidoa, heterogeneoa. Hauek dira historikoki “arrazoimenaren” —lineala, hierarkikoa, logiko, bakuna— aurkakoak bezala definitu izan diren ezaugarriak.

Baina Plant-en cyberfeminismoa ez da sinplea. Plant-en proposamena post-humanista da. Berak bilatzen duena patriarkatuak bahitutako egitura guztien askatzea da: irrazionaltasuna, identitate fluidoak, adimen orokorra, konexioak, sare-pentsaera. Teknologia berriak —sareak, algoritmo autoadaptatiboak— esparru bat sortzen ari direla uste du non gizakiok geure antropozentrismo eta falogozentrismoaz harago joan dezakegun.

Cyberfeminismoa ez da emakumeek teknologia gehiago erabiltzea soilik, ezta teknologia-sektorean emakume gehiago egotea ere. Cyberfeminismoa teknologiak patriarkatuaren logikak ez dituela zertan erreproduzitu behar ulertzean datza.

Ada Lovelace, lehen programatzailea, emakumea zen. Telarea, teknologia konplexua, emakumeen lana izan dena milaka urtez. Konputazio-sistemak, konexioak, zikloak… “emakume lantzat” hartzen diren ezagugarriak dira historikoki. Plant-ek galdera egin nahi digu: zer gertatuko litzateke teknologia patriarkatuaren kontrol narratibotik libratuz gero?

Ondorioak

Teknologiari buruz nola pentsatzen dugun erabakitzen du zer erabilera egin daitezkeen eta nori mesede egiten dioten teknologia horien erabilerak. Beraz, teknologiaren ulerkeraren burujabetza lortu behar dugu teknologia-tresnen burujabetza lortu aurretik.

Hiru ondorio nagusi:

Bat: Klase bektorialistaren kontrako borroka ez da teknologia gehiago edo gutxiago erabiltzea. Informazioaren zirkulazioa kontrolatzen duenak erabakitzen du nork kontrolatzen duen gure etorkizuna. Informazioa nola mugitzen den, zein bektoreetan zirkulatzen duen, zeinek kontrolatzen dituen bektore horiek guztiak… Horiek dira XXI. mendeko botere-gatazkaren zentroak.

Bi: Kosmoteknia eta tequiologia kontzeptuek teknologiaren ulerkera deskolonizatzeko bidea ematen digute. Teknologia ulertzeko modu alternatiboak existitzen direla eta legitimoak direla alegia. Gure balioetan —kooperatibismoa, auzolana, komunitarismoa, hizkuntza— oinarritutako teknologiak eraikitzea posible da eta beharrezkoa. Ez dugu teknologia kontsumitu soilik behar, teknologia sortu ere bai, baina geure logiketan.

Hiru: Cyberfeminismoak ohartarazten gaitu teknologiak patriarkatuaren logikak ez dituela zertan erreproduzitu behar. Hierarkia, linealtasuna, kontrola… hauek ez lukete teknologia ulertzeko modu bakarraren ezaugarriak izan behar. Sareak, konexioak, fluidotasuna, autoantolatzeko gaitasuna… hauek ere badira teknologia ulertzeko moduak.

Teknopolitika baterako, ezinbestekoa da komunitateen autonomia teknologikoa eta politikoa artikulatzea. Burujabetza teknologikoa ez da etorkizuneko aukera, egungo erronka da.

Burujabetza digitala ez da soilik geure zerbitzariak, geure software edo geure plataformak izatea. Burujabetza digitala da teknologiaren ulerkera propioa izatea, geure beharretara, balioetara eta asmo emantzipatzaileetara egokitutakoa. Teknologia ez da helmuga, bidea da. Eta bidean zehar nola ibiltzea erabakitzeko gaitasuna, hori da burujabetza.

Emergentsovereignties – Nazionalismoa ikertuz V. Nazioarteko kongresuan eginiko ponentzia

#guiomarRovira #jorgeOteiza #mckenzieWark #sadiePlant #teknologia #teknologiaBurujabetza #teknopolitika #yasnayaElenaAguilar #yukHui

https://etzi.pm/teknopolitika-baterako-perspektiba-eta-ideiak/

Now online

Yuk Hui and Jorge Carrión on #AI

Lots of interesting reflections on the history of #technology. #Heidegger first referenced about minute 20.

#YukHui
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OyGB_GTGpE&t=10s

Yuk Hui on tech

"For Martin #Heidegger, this gigantic technological force is the realisation of a specifically Western metaphysics. Realisation here means at the same time end and accomplishment. The development of technical systems and their constant convergence on a global scale is an expression of this kind of great completion."

#YukHui
https://www.afterall.org/articles/on-the-persistence-of-the-non-modern/

now in English! some theoretical [#LauraRival; #YukHui] and practical insights for building resistance to global capitalism.

#Technodiversity as an anthropological horizon: Huaorani weapons, decentralized protocols, and the fragmentation of Future
#biodiversity #anthropology #technology

I also mention the project of @archipielago

https://codigosferales.wordpress.com/2024/09/27/technodiversity-as-an-anthropological-horizon-huaorani-weapons-decentralized-protocols-and-the-fragmentation-of-future/

Aquí les dejo Tecnodiversidad como horizonte antropológico: armas Huaorani, protocolos descentralizados y la fragmentación del futuro. Unos apuntes teóricos [#LauraRival; #YukHui] y prácticos para la resistencia biológica, tecnológica y culturalmente diversa al capitalismo globalizado y el proyecto histórico genocida de la Modernidad. Hablo un poco también del Fediverso y la propuesta de @archipielago

#tecnodiversidad #biodiversidad #tecnología #anticapitalismo
https://codigosferales.wordpress.com/2024/09/02/tecnodiversidad-como-horizonte-antropologico-armas-huaorani-protocolos-descentralizados-y-la-fragmentacion-del-futuro/

Encontré mi regalo de cumple
---
RT @cajanegraedit
#NovedadesCN #YukHui #FuturosPróximos

“Introducción: un devenir psicodélico”.

Así comienza Yuk Hui (@digital_objects) en RECURSIVIDAD Y CONTINGENCIA, una de nuestras novedades de este mes de octubre, en la Colección Futuros Próximos:

https://cajanegraeditora.com.ar/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Fragmento-RecursividadYContingencia-CajaNegra.pdf

(...)
https://twitter.com/cajanegraedit/status/1579097952999858184

Très intéressant entretien avec le philosophe Yuk Hui à propos de la nécessité d'une vision plus ouverte et plurielle de la #technologie, ce qu'il appelle la #technodiversité et #cosmotechniques : réconcilier #sciences et #traditions, faire une place à l'incalculable, redonner du sens...

#YukHui #diversité #philosophie #incalculabilité

https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/on-technodiversity-a-conversation-with-yuk-hui/