According to the American Red Cross (ARC), as a professional rescuer, if a person (victim) is “unresponsive, has an altered mental status, or is unable to give consent verbally or through a gesture, then consent is implied (CPR/AED- 3)”. Thus, the common theme that spans both my Butler Trouble and AI Inspire essays with fervor. I wonder if the Oankali thought that humans were in a place so far past ‘responsive’ that it was their duty, in order to save the lives of the humans, to act on implied consent. Butler’s work, in terms of consent, seems more complicated, similar to the situation where a child is unconscious but the parent refuses aid. The legal thing to do would be to step away from the child. The ethical thing would be to help. Is it wrong to do one and not the other? What is the right choice in the scenario? How should we judge others for what they have done? Can we even begin to nitpick the decision without ever having been in a place to make it?
This is a situation that constantly recurs in the real world. It slips by if you’re not actively looking for it, living under the metaphorical tarp mentioned in my Butler Trouble Essay. If you’re not sure what I mean, here are a few examples. Firstly, musicians ‘sample’ other artists’ songs all the time. They are given credit under the surface, sure- a royalty here, a license fee there. But do those count as credit given if the general population doesn’t know the original song even existed? Because this may seem like a broad reach, here is an example of how this question is applicable to everyday decisions, down to the drink sitting next to me as I write this. Did you know that Starbucks has a platform called “My Starbucks Idea’? The idea behind it is a forum in which customers can suggest ideas for menu additions. When some of these are ultimately selected- are they given credit? If they are, it must be clandestine. Last time I checked, the menu didn’t include items such as “Craig’s Ham and Swiss Croissant” or “Amelia’s Strawberry Acai Refresher”. (If you don’t believe me, cake pops and mobile ordering were both crowdsourced…See here for details.)
I’ve decided, in an attempt to ease my mind, that consent is defined diversely. Every person must have a different definition, and accepting this may clear the mud from the water. Much like how Martha sees God in many different forms within her own story, it’s almost impossible to imagine the limits of such a vast possibility. I fear we, as humans, may be inherently trained to see past this issue. As Butler writes in ‘The Book of Martha’, “You see what your life has prepared you to see”. However, this decision also (ultimately, of course. Relief was short-lived) leads to a new category of problems. How can we work with people who have different ideas of consent than we do? How can we be in relationships: romantic, political, workplace, etc? How have we agreed, unspokenly, that consent is an issue we will pretend doesn’t exist? I think, therefore, that it is simply impossible to completely and wholly address the discomfort in Butler’s trilogy or in the development of AI. Because not everyone has the same baseline, there is no reason a perfect development can exist. There are pros and cons to AI for every person. Advances in healthcare are a pro, you might say. VisualDx is a great example of this. But wait…medical AI technology is implicitly biased. The fact that white Americans are listed above black Americans on transplant lists (created and sorted by AI) can’t be a coincidence. But I’m not the one who trains the AI. And I don’t know who does- so what can I do? Who can I judge? ChatGPT, for example, is trained on vast databases that include copyrighted material and human biases. In the same way that Starbucks quietly benefits from crowdsourced ideas, AI systems benefit from the labor of countless humans. If consent is implied with the justification of innovation, what are we endorsing? Who are we saving? Now, the case of Oankali support of human survival is, as I mentioned before in a word, complicated. They seem to believe that they are fulfilling biological prophecy by saving the human race- with a slight imperative (they won’t survive without merging their DNA with humans). It’s not charity- it’s survival. This is something I found extremely easy to remember throught the series. It’s not goodwill- it’s necessity. The Oankali, in my opinion, are as selfish as the humans. They are unable to see what they’re doing as a violation. Who decides what good is?
“PPE includes all specialized clothing, equipment and supplies that prevent direct contact with infected materials” (CPR/AED- 12). Instead of face masks and rubber gloves, the Oankali have control of the situation in a different way- biologically. Not only are they physically superior (stronger, for example), but they can also calm human aggression. Humans are isolated on Oankali ships. Sensory organs allow them to detect deep emotional states. All of these are tools, personal protective equipment, the Oankali use to ‘help’ and manipulate the humans. Just as a professional rescuer would wear PPE to navigate and interact with harmful and hazardous environments, the Oankali use their sensory tentacles to interface with humans. Genetic contamination, modification, and breeding are all forms of mediation- are they not? Now, you may be thinking that this analogy implies that humans are infectious. I think the word in itself is a metaphor in this context. The Oankali won’t literally catch a cold from humans, but without careful interaction, some could die. At what point does PPE become more than gear? To the Oankali, it seems to be a symbol of emotional and psychological distance. Humans are chaotic and unpredictable- there needs to be a way to control without vulnerability.
The Oankali operate communally. Information is shared through biochemical signals or an entwining of sensory tentacles. A secret learned isn’t considered private; it’s considered collective understanding. The Oankali even weaponize that knowledge- knowing humans are scared of isolation, for example, then isolating them on a ship. To them, secrecy doesn’t exist as it does for humans. “When providing care to a victim, you may learn details about the victim that are private and confidential. Do not share this information with anyone except personnel directly associated with the victim’s medical care…” (CPR-AED 3). Information is data. AI also operates communally- stealing information away from one to give to another. Artwork is stolen, music is infringed upon, and scholarly articles are plagiarized. All information is everyone’s, and yet no one’s specifically. It’s just generally out there for the world, from the world.
One of the six benchmarks for professional rescuers is to “handle life-threatening situations with a sense of urgency” (69). Just as humans follow strict training and protocols for safety and effectiveness, AI models are trained on data and follow algorithms to process information and act correspondingly. AI is a tool, not a replacement. An AED is a tool, not a replacement- sitting it next to a lifeless body and walking away does nothing but exclude you from the Good Samaritan law. AI is supposed to assist humans, not substitute them. Human judgment, in most cases, relies on more than just facts. It relies on empathy, on morals, on emotions, on countless things AI cannot and will not possess.
In the end, whether you’re talking about the Oankali or AI developers, there are the same recurring questions. Who decides when intervention is necessary? Who gives permission to act on someone’s behalf? And what happens when the tools and technology we choose to use (genetic engineering, algorithms, or AEDs) take on a life of their own? Professional rescuers are urged to act quickly with responsibility, clarity, and compassion. Maybe this bare minimum is the standpoint we must have as we build our standpoint on the Oankali, or AI. No matter how advanced our tools may become, the heart of every rescue should beat with conscience.