S (Sheryl) Brahnam

This paper problematizes the relation between artificial intelligence and psychoanalysis by posing three questions. First, what distinguishes the linguistic functioning of “talking things” such as AI systems from that of “speaking beings” structured by an unconscious? Second, can the functions of the psychoanalyst be automated without fundamentally altering the analytic process? Third, even if such automation were technically possible, would it preserve the ethical depth, transference, and existential stakes central to psychoanalysis? Framed through these questions, the paper interrogates analytic communication and the ethical implications of conferring onto a talking thing the analytic position of the subject supposed to know: one grounded foremost in knowing what it is to be alive.

Two fundamental (and oftentimes opposing) metaphors have directed much of HCI design: HCI is communication and HCI is direct manipulation. Beneath these HCI metaphors, however, is the unspoken metaphor of Computer is woman. In this paper we expose this foundational metaphor. We begin by identifying the origin of computer is woman in the early history of computing. Drawing upon postmodern feminist theory, we then explore how this metaphor has resulted in the feminization of HCI is communication and second person interfaces. We show how images of femininity proliferate, becoming the projected images of male fantasies and ideals of womanhood. In becoming these idealized images, the interface is revealed as man in female drag. Finally, not only do we undress the interface to uncover how HCI is communication wraps the computer's difference from human being within the more basic metaphor of computer is woman, but we also disclose dangers that can arise when this metaphor goes unacknowledged and unexamined.

Illness and trauma challenge self-narratives. Traumatized individuals, unable to speak about their experiences, suffer in isolation. In this paper, I explore Kristeva’s theories of the speaking subject and signification, with its symbolic and semiotic modalities, to understand how a person comes to speak the unspeakable. In discussing the origin of the speaking subject, Kristeva employs Plato’s chora (related to choreo, “to make room for”). The chora reflects the mother’s preparation of the child’s entry into language and forms an interior darkroom, the reservoir of lived experience, from which self-narratives issue. Unable to speak of their suffering, traumatized individuals need someone to help them make room for a time of remembrance, someone who is a willing and capable listener. I call such a person a healing witness. Through the mediating presence of the healing witness, fragmented memories of trauma are recreated and incorporated into self-narratives that are sharable with others. Unfortunately, opportunities for witnessing are vanishing. In the last section, I examine the failure of modern media and communication technologies to bear (“hold,” “carry,” “transport”) acts of witnessing. I argue that they perturb the semiotic. According to Kristeva, meaning arises from the dialectical tension between the semiotic (drives and affects) and the symbolic (logic and rules) and is threatened by arid discourse, psychosomatic illnesses, and outbreaks of violence when the semiotic is not represented. Unless we open technology to the imaginary, we risk losing the capacity to bear witness to one another and to create narratives and connections that are meaningful.