Quantum physics meet anthropological theory. In what follows, I attempt a discussion of the relevance of the concept of spooky action for the understanding of Donna Haraway’s argument about the “dance[s] of encounters” (2007:4) of multispecies. It will serve, hopefully, as a “capacity building block” [Note 1], like ‘malettes à odeurs’ (odour kits) used for the training of ‘noses’ (Latour 2004:206-207), to “learn to be affected” (Latour 2004:205) by new distinctions in the world, and develop better articulations of them (Latour 2004:209-213) as a result. For Latour, learning to be affected is the fate of having a body (2004:205). Far from being a static entity, the body “leaves a dynamic trajectory by which we learn to register and become sensitive to what the world is made of” (2004:206), and it must thus be defined relationally. Understanding spooky action will allow us to register new differences we were previously inarticulate about. These new contrasts, in turn, will expand our sensory worlds, as he would argue (2004:211), an idea in line with the ‘dynamic trajectory’ of the ever-learning body. It is this perspective of experiencing a wider world of possibilities that, I think, Haraway is alluding to in her question “Whom and what do I touch when I touch my dog?” (2007:3). But first, let me dwell, for a moment, on the quantum physics concept of spooky action.
‘Spooky action at a distance’ refers to the phenomenon of particles that, despite the magnitude of the distance that might have come to separate them, continue to be mutually influencing. It implies that, in the universe, distance does not equal independence. From this insight emerged the quantum field, in which space is not defined by emptiness or fullness, since it allows non-proximate things to be entangled. These concepts explicitly call for, and invoke, a reconceptualization of space and time. No longer is an event restricted to its immediacy and locality. Instead, it suddenly seems to us that the apparent defined boundaries of bodies and events are blurry, for there are no identifiable beginning or end to a state of affection.
Jim’s Dog
Haraway, in “When Species Meet: Introductions” [note 2], introduces her readers to Jim’s dog, which serves as the touchstone for her argument, and her question: “whom and what do I touch when I touch this dog?” (2007:5) Instead of reproducing the example here, I will try to introduce a different personal account, while weaving it with Haraway’s thesis. A few years ago, the Montreal Impact unexpectedly qualified for the quarter-finals of the CONCACAF Champions League. As a second division (Canadian) team at that time, their presence at that stage of the competition among supposedly stronger American, Honduran, and Mexican teams felt, for Montreal’s fans, as an important historical moment. [note 3] In the first leg of the quarter-finals, in Montreal, the Impact won 2-0 in front of 55 571 ecstatic fans (minus a small number of Santos Laguna fans), surprising again media, fans, and pundits. The next day, surfing on a dreamy wave of energy and excitement, I bought flight tickets for Torreón, Mexico to attend the return game. [Although I could write extensively about my week of experiences, friendships, discoveries, and fond memories, I will jump directly to the game, and the climax of my story (my example), for the sake of brevity.] On March 5th 2009, around 9:24pm, Roberto Brown scored the equalization goal that made the return game 1-1, and 3-1 for the Impact on the aggregate. As the ball crossed the goal line, silencing (again) the thousands of Santos Laguna fans, a rush of adrenaline jolted through my body; I shivered. Instinctively, I had jumped on the fence separating us from the field; and while hanging few meters high in the air, I realized that my biggest childhood dream had come to life.
The Fence
So, whom and what did I touch when I touched this fence? What made possible these incredible emotions that still tingle in my body almost four years later? The easy answer would be the goal of Roberto Brown, but I know, and I assume Haraway also does, that it misses a large part of the picture. If my chronological description inarticulately centers on the pronoun I, it is but an effect of culture and language that regrettably reflects a “fantasy of human exceptionalism” (Haraway 2007:4), and an understanding of space and time that spooky action proved to be limited.
Haraway has written that “figures are not representations or didactic illustrations, but rather material-semiotic nodes or knots in which diverse bodies and meanings coshape one another” (2007:4). As in the case of Jim’s dog, my encounter with the fence, a “naturalcultural contact zone” (2007:4), was made possible by events that span across indefinite time and space. The political decision to separate the soccer field from the stands with tall fences. The industrial work that forged metal into wires that were then twisted into a regular pattern. The driver that delivered rolls of fences for the employees to install them. Those employees, their sweaty work, and their stories. Speculations like these, in a sense melting possibilities and realities, are endless; and they only tackle the fence, a fraction of what made that experience possible. Nevertheless, they represent this sort of ripple effects that spooky action refers to.
My experience, like Jim’s dog –‘contact zones’ as Haraway (2007:4) call them– was made possible through “intra- and interactions” (2007:4) and entanglements of human and nonhuman things, meanings, and events. Things are not essences waiting to be revealed. As such, “partners do not precede the meeting; species of all kinds, living and not, are consequent on a subject- and object-shaping dance of encounters” ,writes Haraway (2007:4) . This dance blurs the distinctions that usually delineate the human, modern and technological from the nonhuman, traditional, and organic (Haraway 2007:8). Whitehead argued that “an event is the grasping into unity of pattern of aspects. The effectiveness of an event beyond itself arises from the aspects of itself which go to form the prehended unities of the events” (1948:111, in Haraway 2007:305n7), what he termed as a ‘concrescence of prehensions’. By touching the fence, grabbing it firmly, I “inherit[ed] in [my] flesh” (Haraway 2007:7) much more than a mere immediate tactile sensation of metal. The encounters that made this event possible spanned beyond its immediacy and locality, revealing again the concept of spooky action.
We, human and non-human things, are all entangled in this world, as we affect and are affected by each other. To better articulate and grasp this worldliness, however, we must “learn to live intersectionally” (Haraway 2007:18). Understanding spooky action can serve as a tool to help us rethink our assumptions about “patterns of relationality and… intra-actions at many scales of space-time” (Haraway 2007:17), ultimately registering and articulating our dances with the world. We might then well ask, in Haraway’s terms, who “we” will become, but one thing seems to be sure: discarding this fantasy of human exceptionalism, through a better articulated sensory attunement, shows great promises for the multispecies world. [note 4]
Notes
Note 1: To borrow from the language of the course syllabus.
Note 2: This entry is only based on the first 18 pages of Donna Haraway’s When Species Meet. My regret is that the reading of the full book would have most likely resulted in a better understanding of the concepts she teases out in her “introductions”.
Note 3: The quarterfinals were played on two games, on at home and one away. A Puerto Rican team also qualified for this stage of the competition, but was also considered as an underdog team.
Note 4: In Vibrant Matters: A Political Ecology of Things, Jane Bennett explores similarly topics. A must-read.
References
Haraway, Donna
2007 When Species Meet. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Latour, Bruno
2004 How to Talk About the Body? The Normative Dimension of Science Studies. Body & Society 10(2-3):205-229.
Beyond (Human) Sensoria 