Mingyi Yu

The word algorithm has become the default descriptor for anything vaguely computational to the extent that it appears synonymous with computing itself. It functions in this respect as the master signifier under which a spectrum of sense is subsumed, less a well-defined and stable expression than the vehicle through which innumerable concerns are projected. Commenting on this nebulous quality, Massimo Mazzotti has dubbed the term “a site of semantic confusion.” Yet, rather than “engaging in a taxonomic exercise to norm the usage of the word,” Mazzotti proposes that a more generative approach would “consider its flexible, ill-defined, and often inconsistent meanings as a resource: a messy map of our increasingly algorithmic life”—that is, he attempts to take “the omnipresent figure of the algorithm as an object that refracts collective expectations and anxieties.” Similarly, this study has little fondness for semantic discipline. Unlike Mazzotti, however, my focus here is primarily historical: How did the algorithm come to be such an “omnipresent figure”? What was at stake in aligning the computational with the algorithmic?