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In The Second Self, Sherry Turkle looks at the computer not as a "tool," but as part
of our social and psychological lives; she looks beyond how we use computer games and spreadsheets
to explore how the computer affects our awareness of ourselves, of one another, and of our
relationship with the world. "Technology," she writes, "catalyzes changes not only in what we do but
in how we think." First published in 1984, The Second Self is still essential reading as a primer in
the psychology of computation. This twentieth anniversary edition allows us to reconsider two
decades of computer culture--to (re)experience what was and is most novel in our new media culture
and to view our own contemporary relationship with technology with fresh eyes. Turkle frames this
classic work with a new introduction, a new epilogue, and extensive notes added to the original
text.Turkle talks to children, college students, engineers, AI scientists, hackers, and personal
computer owners--people confronting machines that seem to think and at the same time suggest a new
way for us to think--about human thought, emotion, memory, and understanding. Her interviews reveal
that we experience computers as being on the border between inanimate and animate, as both an
extension of the self and part of the external world. Their special place betwixt and between
traditional categories is part of what makes them compelling and evocative. (In the introduction to
this edition, Turkle quotes a PDA user as saying, "When my Palm crashed, it was like a death. I
thought I had lost my mind.") Why we think of the workings of a machine in psychological terms--how
this happens, and what it means for all of us--is the ever more timely subject of The Second
Self.
372 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1984
Searle sticks tenaciously to the primacy of things over process. He looks for a man in the room, for a neuron in the brain, for a self in the mind. His AI opponents stick just as tenaciously to the primacy of process over things. A system might be made of silicon, Tinkertoys, or fluids—this is irrelevant. [...] For Searle the proposition “a room thinks” is definitionally absurd. In the AI culture, the conviction that it cannot is an archaic belief. For them, the idea that an agent in the room must be “doing the thinking” is just a modern echo of the idea that there must be a “soul” in the pineal gland.
We live in a “psychoanalytic culture,” which has little to do with how many people have been psychoanalyzed, are in therapy, or even have read Freud. A set of concepts that offer guides for what is important in thinking about the self, for what is useful in thinking about personal experiences, has filtered out into the culture as a whole: repression, the unconscious, the superego, the Oedipal struggle with the father. In everyday conversation, when people talk about their problems, they make reference to these.