There Is No Cognitive Estrangement (Fantasies of Contemporary Culture, Cardiff, May 2016)

There Is No Cognitive Estrangement

There Is No Cognitive Estrangement Jo Lindsay Walton Northumbria University @jolwalton

What I’ll talk about today will actually be FAR more timid and preliminary. But I am thinking of this bit of research as developing toward a strong case that perhaps this venerable concept of sf criticism should be retired. This builds a little on a talk called “Today, Tomorrow” which is sort of available on Academia.edu, and which focuses on short fiction by Tim Maughan. And I’ll be giving another iteration of this paper in Liverpool at the end of June. [CLICK]

Scope

Scope Some contexts • Darko Suvin (Metamorphoses of Science Fiction and more recent work) • Carl Freedman (Critical Theory and Science Fiction) • Simon Spiegel (‘Things Made Strange: On the Concept of “Estrangement” in Science Fiction Theory’) Not (yet?) contexts • Ernst Bloch (The Principle of Hope) • Fredric Jameson (Archaeologies of the Future) • Ruth Levitas (Utopia as Method etc.) • Seo-Yung Chu (Do Metaphors Dream of Literal Sleep?) • Viviana Zelizer (a bit leftfield, but I find Zelizer’s concept of ‘relational work’ useful) • A proper reading list would also have to include some Kant, Marx, Brecht, & Adorno

So just to give you a sense of what stage I’m at, this paper is informed by readings of Darko Suvin, who invented the term cognitive estrangement, as well as Freedman’s adaptations and refinements, and Spiegel’s criticisms of it. And below are some works I hope to look more closely at eventually. At the same time, I am mostly interested in cognitive estrangement (as it were) in the wild, as a notion that is distributed across the writing of MANY critics, including those who are using it as a somewhat taken-for-granted tool. [CLICK]

What is cognitive estrangement?

What is cognitive estrangement? Some rough propositions … • Non-mimetic literature doesn’t describe other worlds . . .

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It describes our own world, only made strange!

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Our world can be estranged in two ways . . .

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Non-cognitive estrangement is irrational and unscientific. It underlies fantasy.

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Cognitive estrangement respects rationality and science. It underlies science fiction.

So let me start with a very rough definition. “Cognitive estrangement” can be VERY loosely understood as “rationally possible transformations of the mundane world” -the world we live in. When we encounter non-mimetic literatre -- which doesn’t simply faithfully reproduce the empirical world that its authors and readers inhabit, literature like science fiction and fantasy – we may well wonder, where does its ‘substance’ come from? Well, it can’t REALLY be sent from beyond the stars or from fairyland, so it MUST be the substance of the world we inhabit, only altered, transformed, transvalued, made strange to us. And the contention that you often get in science fiction studies is that it can either be made strange “cognitively” -- where there is some kind of as-yet unspecified relationship with rationality and science, in which case you’re writing science fiction -- or it can be made strange “noncognitively,” in which case you get fantasy. (And we may want to add that “cognitive non-estrangement” gives you naturalistic, mimetic literature. Which sort of raises an interesting question, which I won’t address: what might non-cognitive non-estrangement be?). [CLICK]

What is cognitive estrangement?

What is cognitive estrangement? … connected to a few more • Science fiction involves something new and strange yet rational, AKA a novum.

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Science fiction doesn’t primarily tell us about the future. It tells us about now.

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And/or, the future is “already here.”

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The best utopian writing doesn’t deal in plans and blueprints. It deals in fleeting glimpses.

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Aporetic thinking: sometimes what’s most interesting about science fiction is what isn’t there.

Cognitive estrangement has been a really important idea in science fiction studies, and in some ways a foundational idea of science fiction studies. It was part of how science fiction came to be taken seriously in the academy. And the concept has come to play a role in a little ecosystem of other ideas that are core to science fiction studies; it isn’t necessarily accompanied by such ideas, but it often is. The most closely connected – and this comes from Suvin as well, who adapts it from Ernst Bloch – is the idea that science fiction involves a novum, a truly new thing that is strange yet rational. Now, sometimes the novum is elided with the idea that extrapolative science fiction can permit itself to make one feature of the empirical world arbitrarily variable as by authorial fiat, and then concern itself with working through the ramifications -- can allow yourself “one tooth fairy,” as I think I saw it described once – although I don’t think Suvin really uses it that way; I think Suvin would in some sense have to insist on the rationality of the tooth fairy as well. The second bullet point, I think, is even more influential: science fiction isn’t primarily about the future and other worlds. It’s about this world, right now. “Now” of course is a complicated term, and it encompasses at least the times at which a work of science fiction is written and the times at which it is read, and maybe other times as well. When speaking of science fiction, I like to think of an italicised now: an emphatic indexical, performatively stabbing at this very fleeting moment that we are sharing, while leaning forward into the next; italics even faintly intimate that it might be a foreign word, an interloper uneasily invited by the autochthonous speech to describe emergent realities, but – perhaps leery of emergent threats-- not yet accorded the de-italicised status of a loanword. While we’re at it, if you want to put

your “now” under erasure with a strike-through, that might be even better: the slashed-through now that has always been superseded already, the now with the gofaster stripe. Another way of getting at the curious now that science fiction is supposed to be invested in is the idea that the future is “already here”; one way of continuing that is with William Gibson’s famous maxim, the future is already here, it’s just unevenly distributed, presumably through a kind of sociological space of class, race, nation and so forth as well as physical geographical space. A good Marxist might respond with a good Marxist inversion, that actually the future actually IS even distribution; it’s just not quite here yet. Hopefully this account is beginning to feel a little sly and perhaps perversely roundabout to you. This is as it should be. Cognitive estrangement also sits very comfortably with the suspicion of the programmatic or blueprint utopia. (I feel like the idea is out there in science fiction poetics that the problem with utopian writing like Morris’s News from Nowhere is a kind of commercial-aesthetic problem, all about reaching people: readers don’t like infodumps. Well, perhaps, but Morris’s utopia waaaaas commercially incredibly successful and widely-read, and I do think we sometimes exaggerate the extent to which we dislike programmatic or didactic writing! There is after all a selection pressure: readers who encounter a politics they detest may be quick to call it out as tedious sermonizing, whereas readers who have enjoyed a homily, either because it accords with their existing views or because it has somewhat persuaded them, are more likely to simply describe its subject matter than to praise its didacticsm per se. That’s not to say that News from Nowhere isn’t boring, but perhaps the issue is dated didacticism rather than didacticsm per se. Anyway, the much stronger case against blueprint utopias, the one you tend to encounter when people are wearing their academic hats rather than their author hats, is essentially that of the cunning of capital, or to use a Situationist term, recuperation: the notion that capital (in its interlocking with other systems of oppression) is just superbly good at absorbing anything that emerges oriented at its destruction, superbly good at using the energies that are bent on destroying it to it to replenish and reinvent itself. I think when we talk of science fiction, cognitive estrangement, and utopia, the underlying intuition is that we’ve discovered a way to be wily, to stealthfully resist something that has shown itself terrifyingly good at recuperating all open resistance. That’s the intuition, but it’s not without a tolerably rigorous basis. The idea is: the real world and the cognitively estranged world share conditions of possibility. Much of the utopian potential of science fiction consists not in either of these worlds themselves, but in the possible worlds they imply between them Well, that’s the idea! And finally, on this slide, there’s a also connection with various kinds of negativity. Maybe utopia is so entirely unthinkable that science fiction at most can imagine the imagining of alternatives, preserving its possibility by a ruthless critique of everything existing. Or as Mark Bould suggests in Red Planets, perhaps the intricately artefactual nature of thorough-going worldbuilding science fiction, by not addressing the economic dimensions of totality, creates a negative space that is shaped by capitalism, and in doing so makes capitalism

unusually decipherable. (Again, that’s just one possible story. It may be worth, as I continue to try to give my sense of cognitive estrangement, to bear in mind the title of this paper!) [CLICK]

Suvin on science

Suvin on science From “Estrangement and Cognition” “[…] cognition is wider than science […] It is much less weighty, however, if one takes ‘science’ in a sense closer to the German Wissenschaft, French science, or Russian nauka, which includes not only natural but also all the cultural or historical sciences and even scholarship (cf. Literaturwissenscaft, sciences humaines). As a matter of fact, that is what science has been taken to stand for in the practice of SF: not only More or Zamyatin, but the writings of Americans such as Asimov, Heinlein, Pohl, Dick, etc., would be completely impossible without sociological, psychological, historical, anthropological, and other parallels.”

Before I move on, I want to throw in this quote, really just because of the science theme of this panel, and also because I realized I’m actually not using very many of Suvin’s actual words today. So here are quite a lot of them, arguing that the term “cognition” can be more closely aligned with the term “science” if we broaden the latter, and think not only of the natural sciences and technology, but also sociological, psychological, historical, anthropological, and other inquiries; this is the sense then in which “cognitive estrangement” might be thought of as “scientific estrangement.” And, to foreshadow something I’ll be talking about shortly, a “scientifically possible world” implies “a world whose possibility we assess using science”: in this case, “science” broadly understood. [CLICK]

Octavia Butler’s ‘Bloodchild’ (1984)

Octavia Butler’s ‘Bloodchild’ (1984) One example of (cognitive) estrangement “T'Gatoi glanced at me, then placed a claw against his abdomen slightly to the right of the middle, just below the left rib. There was movement on the right side - tiny, seemingly random pulsations moving his brown flesh, creating a concavity here, a convexity there, over and until I could see the rhythm of it and knew where the next pulse would be.”

That’s a hasty overview of cognitive estrangement and its contexts in science fiction studies. Here’s an example! The Tlic lay their eggs in human hosts. Left alone, the eggs would hatch and the grubs devour their hosts – lucky us! – our alien lovers secrete a natural anaesthetic, slit us open with a big SHLURP, and then rummage around and dig them out just before they hatch. Okay, occasionally they miss one, lol. [CLICK]

Octavia Butler’s ‘Bloodchild’ (1984)

Octavia Butler’s ‘Bloodchild’ (1984) One example of (cognitive) estrangement “His body convulsed with the first cut. He almost tore himself away from me. The sound he made . . . I had never heard such sounds come from anything human. T'Gatoi seemed to pay no attention as she lengthened and deepened the cut, now and then pausing to lick away blood. His blood vessels contracted, reacting to the chemistry of her saliva, and the bleeding slowed. I felt as though I were helping her torture him, helping her consume him. I knew I would vomit soon, didn't know why I hadn't already. I couldn't possibly last until she was finished. She found the first grub. It was fat and deep red with his blood - both inside and out. It had already eaten its own egg case but apparently had not yet begun to eat its host. At this stage, it would eat any flesh except its mother's.”

During the course of Octavia Butler’s story, Gan witnesses one such birth going slightly wrong. Essentially, it takes place without anaesthetic. Over the course of the rest of the story, Gan grapples with the possibility of resisting the reproductive role. So, this was a story which, in a way, briefly brought me back to the concept of cognitive estrangement, after we’d first fallen out with each other. That’s because it is unmistakeably not a story about a faraway world and its bizarre biology. It is an story about human gender, and human sex. It is about us, about the uncanny and abject experience of pregnancy, about the social construction of the ideal of motherhood, about the systemically violently abusive constitution of the domestic sphere under patriarchy. Butler’s narrative disrupts the idea that childbirth is “natural,” and foregrounds the specific, historically-contingent nexus of power relations and bodily affordances in which childbirth is produced. It foregrounds the contradictions within women’s experience of motherhood, and especially the anticipation of motherhood, as simultaneously emancipating and subjugating. And it even somewhat destabilizes binary gender, particularly in the figure of Gan’s sister, who is a potential back-up host, even though hosts are supposed to be men. [CLICK]

Octavia Butler’s ‘Bloodchild’ (1984)

Octavia Butler’s ‘Bloodchild’ (1984) One example of (cognitive) estrangement “T'Gatoi whipped her three meters of body off her couch, toward the door, and out at full speed. She had bones - ribs, a long spine, a skull, four sets of limb bones per segment. But when she moved that way, twisting, hurling herself into controlled falls, landing running, she seemed not only boneless, but aquatic - something swimming through the air as though it were water. I loved watching her move.”

There is also real tenderness, growth, autonomy, and love. There is a strong sense that these are not merely offsetting or mitigating features: without the coercive and abusive system in any way sabotaging their intrinsic qualities, there is nevertheless a strong sense that tenderness, growth, autonomy, and love are implicated in that coercive and abusive system and contribute to upholding it. It is also a story which insists on flesh, insists on the reality of bodies, and I think you’d need to have your Judith Butler goggles on the highest setting not to give in and allow yourself to be just a little biologically essentialist, at least as a working orientation. Then again, you certainly can’t elide the biology it tempts the reader to essentialize with the biology which in the real world is available for essentialisation. To maybe give you a sense of that, I’ll first give you a second to read that quotation. One of the interesting things about setting up this system of correspondences is that it sometimes tempts you into trying to translate things, and then being uncertain if it worked or not. It’s filled with glitches, partial identifications, odd felicities that you feel you may have made up yourself. For instance, if humans are women in this story, then are men in some sense these almost boneless, aquatic monsters, swimming through the air as though through water? [CLICK]

Reasons to be sceptical about cognitive estrangement

Reasons to be sceptical about cognitive estrangement Some questions • Is what gets called “estrangement” sometimes actually “allegory”?

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Is what gets called “estrangement” sometimes actually “intertextuality”?

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Is what gets called “estrangement” sometimes actually just “bringing something up”?

That was a horribly brief encounter with Butler’s beautiful, complex and justly famous “Bloodchild,” as an example of cognitive estrangement in action. Or was it? Notice I didn’t use the term cognitive estrangement. Or cognitive. Or estrangement. Anyway: next up, for the bulk of this paper, I’m going to whiz through quite a lot of questions about cognitive estrangement, designed to cast some doubt on the coherence of the concept, though I’ll only pick up on a few of them in any detail. The structure here is really just scattershot and accretive; I’m piling one thing on top of another, so if certain bits roll off your own personal piles, that’s totally fine. To begin with, one thing I’ve noticed is that critics sometimes dutifully use the term “estrange” – it’s what expected of us when talking about sf! -- and use it as a sort of general-purpose connector between two things that are different in some ways, but the same in other ways. Hmmm. Now, connecting things that are different in some ways, but the same in other ways, is simply comparing them. And even when it comes to “Bloodchild” – which as I say strikes me intuitively as a strong contender cognitive estrangement – I wonder: are the gender relations around reproduction being estranged, or allegorized? I’m really not sure. Maybe there’s just a little too much metonymy; maybe the mundane and the fantastic versions are so close, so mixed up, that allegory somehow doesn’t feel appropriate. Then there’s intertextuality. When I suggest that motherhood as something superlatively natural is being estranged, could it be I am really talking about the intertextual relations between this peripheral bit of the discursive construct of motherhood, and its more dense, self-reinforcing core texts? Sometimes I even think critics say “estrange” when they mean “themeatize” or “mention” or “bring up”! Isn’t anything at least a

bit strange when it’s brought up for the first time? It’s a bit strange because it’s being brought up in a particular way, which we have to process before we can feel comfortable with it. Is “estrange” just a kind of methodological clickbait: “This science fiction critic decided to compare two things. What happened next is utopian.” [CLICK]

Reasons to be sceptical about cognitive estrangement

Reasons to be sceptical about cognitive estrangement Some more questions • What is the role of the critic? Does the critic de-estrange, naturalize?

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Do things in science fiction stay strange? Do they stay cognitive?

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Does cognitive estrangement honour the aspiration to dialectical thinking?

There is also often a cageiness about agency. Prepositions are brushed under the carpet. Estrangement may be said to occur, and we aren’t quite sure where or when or for whom or by what or through what or into what. I think that one strong, useful way of construing the agency of estrangement is that it’s the text making something strange, and what it makes strange is always something the reader already knows. It is whatever I bring to the text that the text makes strange. But then again, that’s a bit of an odd way of looking at it, since it implies that the objects of estrangement are outside of the text. Well, we’ll have to get more dialectical perhaps: the text brings things to the reader, the readers brings them back to the text, and the text estranges them. The agency of the critic is even more problematic. If cognitive estrangement is meant to de-mystify the real world, to make something clearer – for instance the power relations embodied in the discourse of “natural” pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood – by defamiliarizing it, and showing how it is contingent and changeable, then what is the role of the critic? Does the critic take away the strangeness? De-estrange, naturalize? Even make things unclear again? Which would seem to be inimical to the whole idea of social and literary criticism! [CLICK]

Reasons to be sceptical about cognitive estrangement

Reasons to be sceptical about cognitive estrangement Some more questions • Since “science fiction” and “fantasy” are already distinguished as genealogies, as commercial publishing strategies, and as readerly expectations … does the distinction need to be explained in another way? •

Why does the distinction between cognitive and non-cognitive estrangement so seldom upset our preliminary sense of what science fiction or fantasy? (Cf. Pratchett’s science fiction novel Making Money and Doctorow’s fantasy novel Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom).

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Does the affinity between fantasy and non-cognitive estrangement still hold true, following the influence of ludic-bureaucratic Vancian magic in tabletop and digital roleplaying games from the 1970s onward? (“I wrote before the Deluge” – Suvin).

Perhaps picking up on that point about the two way flow between text and reader, which might contain both moments of uncertainty and uncanniness, and a constant relational work to come to terms with it … Suvin, and especially Freedman in his reworking of Suvin’s ideas, are both subtle and sensible about permitting cognitive estrangement to kind of ebb and flow in any text, to be braided with other things. But after agreeing in principle that there may even be something cognitively estranging and therefore science fictional in the work of so solid a realist as Jane Austen, Freedman – like most critics – seems to revert to taxonomizing texts on the basis of shibboleths – does it have a spaceship on the cover? – and then going in search of its cognitive estrangements, and likewise disqualifying anything with an elf from cognitive estrangement. These moments are by far the weakest in Freedman’s brilliant and gratifying book. As a final point on this slide, Suvin develops this idea in the 1960s and 1970s, just before the interlocking of the numinous with the ludic-bureaucratic, in other words the subjugation of sorcerery to distinct well-defined quantitative and normative regimes. Just listen to the hypercompetent irritation and privilege with which Harry barks out his accio keyword; the lad is a technology-user, Expecto Cortana. I’m not familiar with Brandon Sanderson’s work, but I’m told it exemplifies this trend of “lawlike” magic. [CLICK] (Cut: Suvin’s updates to aspects of his treatment of fantasy can be found in “Considering the Sense of ‘Fantasy’ or ‘Fantastic Fiction’,” published in 2000).

Reasons to be sceptical about cognitive estrangement

Reasons to be sceptical about cognitive estrangement Another question • Does it matter that readers of science fiction don’t find the science fictional bits strange at all?

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Spiegel thinks it does! “[W]itches and fairies and the like are expected” (2008, p.371). “[F]or Brecht the goal of estrangement is to let things appear as historically produced and changeable […] Brecht’s plays estrange the normal, while sf naturalizes the strange.).” (2008, p.373).

Staying in the same general area (and I think this one’s probably pretty important). Even if we accept that there is such a thing as cognitive estrangement, and that it is something that science fiction tends to do, it seems unlikely that what readers of science fiction recognize as science fictional about a text is strange to them. Quite the opposite: almost by definition, genre markers are citational, they are familiar. (Likewise, fantasy: witches and fairies and the like are expected). This is a core part of Spiegel’s criticisms of cognitive estrangement, which I’ll come to shortly. [CLICK]

Reasons to be by now really sceptical about cognitive estrangement

Reasons to be by now really sceptical about cognitive estrangement Some more questions • Can something be “an estrangement” of more than one thing? Isn’t ‘Bloodchild’ also about slavery? What if we also read Gan as an exploited labourer? Or take Doctorow’s Whuffie: isn’t it an estrangement of money and an estrangement of reputation? •

If so, wouldn’t it be possible for a composit estrangement be both cognitive and noncognitive?

Can something be “an estrangement” of more than one thing? What if we also read Gan as an exploited labourer? Or take Doctorow’s Whuffie, in Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom: isn’t it an estrangement of money and an estrangement of reputation? In fact, if we really focus on the affective quality of estrangement – as a way you feel when you’re reading the thing, something closer to what Shklovsky (and perhaps Brecht) write about, as a feeling of “whoa, huh” – then having two or more mundane world candidate objects correlative to each fantastical world object seems compulsory. What keeps Whuffie strange is that you can never quite work out if it’s more like money or more like reputation. But if we do allow that this kind of plural or cognitive estrangement occurs, and perhaps is even common or even dominant, wouldn’t it be possible for an estrangement be both cognitive and noncognitive? [CLICK]

Reasons to by now be really, really sceptical about cognitive estrangement

Reasons to be by now really, really, sceptical of cognitive estrangement Some more questions • Are “straightforwardly” utopian works like Edward Bellamy’s Looking Backward or Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland in some sense “doubly utopian” – the blueprint utopia, and the utopia of the glimpse or wish? •

How does science fiction know so much about what is necessary and what is contingent?

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“If we had x, then there could be y.” Is this really a claim that something is possible? Doesn’t it just withhold judgment about whether y is really possible?

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Is the novum everything in the text that is rational and non-mimetic? If not, how do you discriminate it? If so, why should we think of it as a “thing” (rather than, say, an assemblage?)?

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Is the utopian impulse, glimpse, or wish really fragile and fleeting, if it can reliably be produced again and again by the proper application of certain literary theories? Or if it is elusive, does that imply that the criticism that refers to it is systematically mistaken?

In a similar way, are “straightforwardly” utopian works like Edward Bellamy’s Looking Backward or Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland in some sense “doubly utopian” – the blueprint utopia, and the utopia of the glimpse or wish? An important principle of Ernst Bloch’s work, which Suvin draws on, is that the utopian glimpse is pervasive. It’s all over the place, even in the worst stuff. But taken into the science fiction studies space, this produces an odd result. On the one hand, utopia is everywhere is science fiction: dystopias have utopian glimpses, right wing military sf has utopian glimpses, even utopias have utopian glimpses. On the other hand, we often seem to proceed as if the abundance of the utopian wish was only pervasive within fantastic literature, or even only within science fiction. This takes me to the next reason to be – by now really, really – sceptical of cognitive estrangement. How does science fiction know so much about what is necessary and what is contingent? Science fiction presents a fictional world – i.e. estrangement -- grounded in the same conditions of possibility as our world – i.e. cognition; and by a kind of triangulation we can glimpse more utopian possibilities between what really does exist and what really might exist. But what makes science fiction such a good judge of what really does exist, let alone what really might? I think this is what encourages Carl Freedman to downgrade Suvin’s cognition to cognition effect, a rhetorical semblance of plausibility, but I also think that downgrading is a significant compromise about the radical potential of science fiction. In fact, does science fiction actually even make that many claims about what is and is not possible? Science fiction’s most prominent imaginative claims are often conditionals. “If we had x, then there could be y.” I’m not sure I want to interpret that as any kind of statement about whether y is logically,

metaphysically, nomologically, temporally, economically, socially, culturally, instutionally possible. Isn’t it much cagier? Doesn’t it just withhold judgment about whether y is “really” possible? Aren’t such conditionals often just a way of talking about some interesting counterfactual while shirking the responsibility of positioning it within the (provisional) totality? Well, again, I’m not quite sure. (And I’d love to hear your thoughts). The novum is of course one concept sometimes invoked to organize science fiction into imaginative acts of cognitive estrangement and a kind of secondary extrapolative corona. Is the novum everything in the text that is rational and non-mimetic? If not, how do you discriminate it, draw a boundary around it? If so, why should we think of it as a “thing” (rather than, say, an assemblage?)? It might be worth thinking of the Butler example a bit there. What’s the novum? And finally on this slide, is the utopian impulse, glimpse, or wish really fragile and fleeting, if it can reliably be produced again and again by the proper application of certain literary theories? Or conversely, if we insist it really is elusive, does that imply that the criticism that refers to it again and again is systematically mistaken? [CLICK]

Reasons to maybe be sceptical about cognitive estrangement

Reasons to maybe be sceptical about cognitive estrangement Some more questions • Can cognitive estrangement itself be cognitively estranged?

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Or to put it another way: is cognitive estrangement something that exists at all?

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If so, when we think we encounter it, how do we know if it belongs to the effects of the text, or the representations of the text?

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In other words, how do we distinguish the cognitively estranging portrayal of the natural world from the naturalistic (“cognitively non-estranging”) portrayal of cognitive estrangement itself?

Now, here are some that may just be mere sophistry. If cognitive estrangement is real, a thing that exists in a world, then it belongs to the set of things which are potential objects for cognitive estrangement. So the question is, how can naturalistic representations of the experience of estrangement be differentiated from the effect of cognitive estrangement mobilized by science fiction, or as Suvin puts it, cognitive estrangement as a “formal framework” of the genre? “Diegetic estrangement” seems to me to be the ideal candidate for describing estrangement that is in some sense in the world of the text, rather than between that world and the world of the readers, although Spiegel also talks about “diegetic estrangement” and I’m not quite sure I can tally my useage with his. Anyway: I’m not particularly confident about this criticism of cognitive estrangement, or if it really is a criticism. I do find the presence of nested science fiction, that is science fiction within science fiction very, very intriguing; I think of the world of Alan Moore’s Watchmen comic which doesn’t really have superhero comics in it; they have pirate comics; in that world the Marvel Cinematic Universe is all about Treasure Island, and even Blind Pew is spinning off into a three movie deal. Science fiction is of course an extremely dialogic, intertextual literary tradition, but I’m not sure how often science fictional science fiction texts are represented. (Are there estrangements of science fiction?) Jo Walton’s Among Others is one interesting example, and in terms of estrangement, I would recommend reading a book by someone who has your name about a fairylike twin who both is and is not there. Her alternate history novelette Escape to Other Worlds with Science Fiction could also be worth thinking about in this respect; and of course there’s Philip K. Dick’s The Man in the High Castle. [CLICK]

Reasons to just about give up on cognitive estrangement altogether

Reasons to just about give up on cognitive estrangement altogether The big question • Does it matter that different people find different things strange?

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Cf. e.g. the USA as a “deleted scene” in Nnedi Okorafor’s Lagoon (2014).

Which brings me to perhaps the most biggest landslide of this haphazard erosion of the notion of cognitive estrangement. Different people find different things strange. Trust a man to propose that ‘Bloodchild’ might actually be about class. A classic derailment tactic. But surely we must somehow acknowledge that if it does estrange, its estrangement is given structures and details by the gendered difference within its readership, in a way prior to and probably ultimately disruptive of any cognitive / non-cognitive binary. As critics we can look into the radical particularism of individual response, and/or we can try to make approximations by working through identity characteristics such as gender, class, and race, and/or we can try to grow identity characteristic-like tools from the bottom up by working with texts and the critical and curatorial and fan traditions that surround them. Nnedi Okorafor I think plays with the science fiction / fantasy distinction in Lagoon; certainly I was pleasurably wrongfooted by what I thought was a book that begins as science fiction and then morphs into urban fantasy, until I realized that the book had been positioning the alien invasion narrative as a specific cultural myth all along – particularly, a North American one – and had very deliberately not confirmed the science fiction / fantasy binary that I had brought to the text. I love the fact that the USA is in one sense left on the cutting room floor in this novel (although of course, in another sense, the US empire saturates everything that takes place). I’m calling this “the big question” about cognitive estrangement. Different people find different things strange, and work in different ways to naturalize or otherwise come to terms with what they encounter as strange. Estrangement is a positional dynamic that occurs not just in the space between reader and text, but among different readers. Given that big question … [CLICK]

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates “Cognitive” tends to be an accommodating term • Nobody knows exactly what it means, so we read whatever we like into it.

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If we’re being very lazy, “cognitive” just means “science fictional” and “non-cognitive” means “fantastical.”

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So: a circular useage, underlying an aggrandizement of “I know it when I see it.”

… what hope is there for distinguishing between “cognitive” and “non-cognitive” forms of so many agents working to find their footing in such a multidimensional space? So I’ve given an overview of cognitive estrangement, a possible example of it, and then worked to undermine it from a number of angles. In this next part of the paper, I think it’s useful to home in a little on this word “cognitive.” I suspect it has contributed to the popularity of the term that nobody knows exactly what it means, so we read whatever we like into it. If we’re being very lazy, “cognitive” just means “science fictional” and “non-cognitive” means “fantastical.” So: it becomes a circular useage, underlying an aggrandizement of “I know it when I see it.” [CLICK]

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates It’s all in the mind. So what isn’t cognitive? • Very basically, cognitive denotes “of the mind.” How is the word being used here? A good way to grasp it could be to imagine the alternatives. What is cognitive implicitly being distinguished from? •

For instance, the non-cognitive might be glossed as the taken-for-granted: all the things we naively know but can’t or won’t articulate …

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… and such competencies blur seamlessly into the “knowledgable” nature of the social and economic institutions we inhabit. Cf. objectified spirit, and of course ideology.

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But is this kind of non-cognitive always “bad”? Is it really inseperable from ideology and mystification? Cf. tacit knowledge, especially as it is construed in Habermas’s critical sociology. If we just take “cognitive” in the sense described above, are we so sure that “noncognitive estrangement” couldn’t be a tool of critique as well?

Very basically, cognitive denotes “of the mind.” But how is it being used here? A good way to grasp it is to imagine the alternatives. For instance, the non-cognitive could be the taken-for-granted: the things we know but can’t or won’t express, and the taken-for-granted blends into the “knowledgeable” nature of our institutions. What you might call objectified spirit – or better yet, ideology, remembering of course that ideology is material. (We might want to think briefly of Latour's castigation of sociology for trusting that 'social norms' or 'structures' or 'culture' has enough steel in them to account for the steeliness of the unequal landscape in which we toil, its solidity and durability and inertia. But hang on. Is the non-cognitive always “bad”? Is it really insperable from ideology and mystification? There’s a risk that we lapse into a really awful division between “theory” which is scientific in a vulgar scientific-socialist way – i.e. always right about everything – and “practice” which is always boo-hoo-mistaken-in-its-tacit-assumptions-corrupt-and-fallen-andaccompanied-by-false-consciousness. All that does is swap around the liberal binary of, “Oh, it’s all very well to think and talk all the time, but what are you going to do about it?”, a sentiment usually raised in bad faith as a way of closing down the possibility of ever doing anything about “it,” whatever “it” is. What about praxis? Or what about, for instance, tacit knowledge, especially as it is construed in Habermas’s critical sociology, in connection with reconstructive science? If we do what to keep alive the possibility of a utopian wish, surely it should be intimately connected with the non-cognitive in this sense, with what we know but can’t or won’t express? [CLICK]

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates How does “cognitive” become “critical”? • Another alternative to cognitive might be emotional or affective.

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So could we think about “estrangements that appeal to cognition” vs. “estrangements that appeal to emotion”?

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Don’t buy the binary!

Another alternative to cognitive might be emotional. So could we think about “estrangements that appeal to cognition” vs. “estrangements that appeal to emotion”? We could unpack that as: some things appear and say, “Hello, I’m strange! But I have a right to be here, and if you use your reasoning faculty, you’ll see that’s true.” Whereas others appear and say, “What’s up? I’m strange too! But I have a right to be here, and if you only look into your heart, you’ll see that’s true!” Now, I don’t believe in that binary for one second! (Although, it is by now so wellknown that the binary doesn’t hold up, I almost feel that that ‘knowledge’ deserves a little more interrogation. But that’s by the by). Suvin certainly doesn’t buy the binary, what he calls in a 1997 article “the still dominant bourgeois polarization of reason and emotion,” and goes on to argue for a distinction between the conceptual and the cognitive, and to propose that “the class of ‘not conceptually expressibles’ is not cognitively empty,” so that a piece of music or sculpture may in some sense be cognitive, might include reason. And like Suvin I’m painfully conscious that the polarization of reason and emotion is liable to pop up in the most barefaced oppressive discourse, particularly the patriarchal and the post-colonial, as part of a project of demoting, excluding, discrediting and disempowering dissenting voices. Slightly less perniciously, opposing cognition with emotion may also suggest analytic philosophy, where cognitive often suggests “truth-apt”: in other words a proposition (or something else) that is a candidate for truth (perhaps by its correlation to a truthmaker such as a state of affairs, or perhaps via its coherence with other truth-apt propositions); whereas non-cognitive suggests things that can’t be evaluated as true or false, such as – according to some thinkers, “Don’t kill people!” . . . or “That’s so beautiful!” Aha. Okay. Here we go. [CLICK]

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates How does “cognitive” become “critical”? • The word cognitive is inflected by Kantian aesthetics. (In this context, cognitions is sometimes translated as concepts). •

In “The Analytic of the Beautiful,” Kant constructs a system whereby the determining basis of a non-cognitive judgment, such as a judgment of taste, must be subjective.

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But aesthetic judgments occupy a special status for Kant, since they are non-cognitive, but they must also command universal assent. Do we really believe that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Is sharing a feeling of beauty with someone like sharing a birthday with someone? Kant doesn’t think so.

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“Subjective universality” is a paradox. This is one of the more striking and influential moments of the overall Kantian project of steering a course between theological dogmatism and empiricist dogmatism. He is steering between the continental rationalist aesthetics of Baumgarten and the British empiricist aesthetics of Hume.

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So how does Kant accomplish this?

Is the outburst, “That’s so beautiful!” truth-apt? Is it a candidate for truth? If there are Kant scholars here, block your ears. For Kant, pure judgments of taste must involve a claim to subjective universality. “Subjective universality” is a kind of paradoxical term, a bit like “cognitive estrangement.” (Maybe more than a bit). The judgment, “Oh, that’s so beautiful!” is not cognitive for Kant, because you cannot prove it to others. You cannot bind me to your sense of the beautiful through reason. (Okay, maybe YOU can. But go with it). That’s the “subjective” part. I find the “universality” part a bit harder to get my head around: Kant thinks that “Oh, that’s so beautiful!” can’t be reduced to a report on a feeling of delight. The British tradition of broadly empiricist aesthetics, through Hume, Shaftesbury, Hutcheson, Burke and others, propose various more-or-less sophisticatied versions of such reducibility. But for Kant, “Oh, that’s so beautiful!” communicates something more than pleasure. It communicates a kind of claim to necessity and universality. Kant says, “Whenever we make a judgment declaring something to be beautiful, we permit no one to hold a different opinion.” That is, “it does not say that everyone will agree with my judgment, but that they ought to.” “[W]e regard this underlying feeling as a common rather than as a private feeling.” I think this is partly to do with the way Kant associates aesthetic judgment with kind of disinterested freedom – as if we are freer in aesthetic experience than when we merely like something because it gives us pleasure. There’s a sense in which we have to like what we desire for our own pleasure: but with beauty, something else is going on. In Kant’s own summary, “Beautiful is what, without a concept, is cognized as the object of a necessary liking.” So how does Kant resolve this problem?

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates How does “cognitive” become “critical”? • Kant resolves the paradox of the “subjective universal” judgement by ascribing aesthetic experience to the interplay within the conditions of possibility of cognition as such. •

Here’s the key passage, in my own weird hybrid “translation” / paraphrase: “Cognitions and judgments, along with the certainty that accompanies them, must be universally communicable. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to attribute to them any harmony with their objects. They would be detatched from the real, merely a subjective play of the presentational faculties, just as skepticism would have it. But if cognitions are to be universally communicable, then the underlying mental state that makes them possible -- in other words, the specific attunement, or configuration, of the cognitive powers that occurs when the faculties of imagination and judgment are mobilized to turn sense data of an object into a cognition of that object -- must be also be universally communicable. For this configuration is the subjective condition of cognition, and without it, cognition the effect could not arise. And this does actually take place each time a given object, by means of the senses, induces the imagination to draw together the raw manifold of sense data, and the imagination in turn inducing the understanding to organize that manifold as definite concepts and thereby give it unity. Of course, the particular configuration of the cognitive powers varies, depending on what difference there is among the objects that are given. And yet there must be one configuration in which this inner relation between the imagination and the understanding is most conducive to the awakening of the two mental powers with a view to cognition (of given objects) in general; and the only way this configuration can be determined is by feeling (rather than by concepts). Moreover, this configuration itself, and therefore also the feeling of it (when a presentation is given), must be universally communicable, while the universal communicability of a feeling presupposes a sensus communis. Therefore it would seem that we do have a basis for believing that there is such a sense, and for believing in it without relying on psychological observations, but rather as the necessary condition of the universal communicability of our cognition, which must be presupposed in any logic and any principle of cognitions that avoids lapsing into skepticism.”

Cognitions are universally communicable. How can something else be universally communicable, but not rest on any particular cognition? Perhaps there are certain kinds of judgements, aesthetic judgements, that don’t rely on cognitions themselves, but only on the shape of the structures that make cognitions possibly in the first place. For Kant, that is the faculty of imagination and the faculty of understanding. Kant seems to be saying that in our liking for the beautiful, the imagination and the understanding are sort of kindled into a state of preparedness, awake and ready for cognition – in fact, they get in a huddle and get really worked up, with a kind of “we can handle ANY sense data that is given to us! BRING IT ON, WORLD!” vibe – but they never make any cognitive judgment in particular.

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates How does “cognitive” become “critical”? • So what is the nuance of cognitive?

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The problem of reconciling the subjective with the universal – different people find different things strange.

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More generally, it alludes to the shift, from Kant onward, to a concern with how knowledge is situated in and conditioned by particular knowers. To critique any object, you also have to critique yourself in your relations to that object.

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But if cognitive estrangement is critical estrangement, then who exactly is the knower?

Now, I don’t want to get too much into the details – nor really could I, with a grasp on Kant that relies rather too heavily on dubious sports movie analogies – and I don’t want to lose sight of the fact that whatever those details are, Kant is probably wrong, at least inasmuch as aesthetic experience is not disinterested. But the point I really want to make is about the corona of nuance that the word cognitive may have carried for Suvin, particularly filtered through Brecht. In Kant, the word cognition plays a key role in a problem about how isolated, subjective experience can be reconciled with something all humans share in common. Forget about the fact that, for Kant, the solution to this problem involved non-cognitive judgments. It feels reasonable to me that the word cognitive already reflects some of the central problems with the concept that Suvin is proposing: problems summed up in the slogan that different people find different things strange. Is there something common to us all that an individual’s judgement of strangeness sheds light on? More generally, in Kant, the word cognition plays a key a role in the invention a modern kind of critique that, while it does not necessarily take the critic as its object, is neveretheless concerned with who and what the critic is as much as it is with the object of critique. But to nail that down a little more: if cognitive estrangement is estrangement that is critical in the sense of being concerned with the embodied, situated aspect of knowledge, the ways in which knowledge is never free-floating, but always belongs to someone, and is shaped by who and what that someone is … well, who are we actually talking about? Who is the knower here? Who is supposed to benefit, epistemologically, from science fiction’s cognitive estrangements? Is it the reader, all

readers, the author, everybody, the critic? Is it some kind of supra-agent? Is it the text? (CUT: Again, questions of agency. How should we approach the worldbuilding author who is busy calculating how delta-V would operate in a universe of slightly tweaked physics? Is that the moment of cognition?)

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates These ones feel okay … • Rational estrangement

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Thisworldly estrangement

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Plausible estrangement

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Scientific estrangement

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Scientifically plausible estrangement

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Diegetic estrangement (cf. Spiegel)

Earlier I hinted at substitutes for “estrange” such as “allegorize” or “transform” or even just “compare” or “bring up.” New let me run through a few possible substitutes for “cognitive.” To be cognitive is perhaps to be rational, thisworldly, plausible, scientific, scientifically plausible. Perhaps diegetic, although as I mentioned that’s already Spiegel’s term, and I probably need to look more at his useage. [CLICK]

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates These feel a bit better … • Dialectical estrangement

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Materialist estrangement

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Utopian estrangement

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Socialist estrangement

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Pedagogic estrangement

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Naturalizing estrangement

Words like “dialectical,” “materialist,” “utopian,” “socialist,” and perhaps “pedagogic” are upfront about what we want from this kind of estrangement, what we want it to do and what kind of intellectual virtues, drawn from which intellectual traditions, we want it to exemplify in order to prove itself a superior kind of estrangement. “Naturalizing estrangement” is perhaps the best of the lot, because it insists on a bit of paradox and contradiction, probably mostly to be resolved as a movement of thought: whatever is strange must be striven to be understood until it becomes second nature; whatever is natural must be unsettled, defamilarized, historicized, seen as contigent. [CLICK]

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates

Replacing “cognitive”: some candidates These feel like the best possible replacements • De-estranging estrangement

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Natural estrangement

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Self-reflexive estrangement

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Critical estrangement (cf. Freedman)

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Productive estrangement (cf. Suvin, Brecht)

De-estranging and natural might fall into the same general category. Self-reflexive and critical estrangement recall the Frankfurt School but also particularly Kant. That is, cognitive estrangement employs a mode of reflexive rationality. So for Freedman, for instance, knowledge of the world requires a constant “adequation of the knowing subject to known object” (Freedman: 1) or it will lapse into the dogmatism inherent in idealism or empiricism. Such reflexive rationality must animate speculative fiction if it is to legitimately denaturalise the mundane world, including the subjects who constantly naturalise that world, into “the conjunctural result of complex, knowable material processes” (Freedman: ibid. 56). This has implications for the utopianism of contemporary speculative fiction. Through rational reflexivity, an estranged fictional world can be kept ‘this-worldly,’ so that it shares conditions of possibility with the real world. That’s the story, anyway, although I’ve already sounded several notes of scepticism about it. And finally in a somewhat similar vein, we might think of productive estrangement, drawing particularly on Suvin’s more recent writing on Brecht, and Brecht’s transition from a theatre with pedagogy at its centre to one with production at its centre; the hierarchy of “teacher transmits knowledge to student” is broken into a back-and-forth pattern of activity. I find the notion particularly attractive because it might lend itself to the approach I suggested earlier of always demanding to know what is estranged, into what, for whom, and by what. [CLICK]

Spiegel’s cognitive estrangement

Spiegel’s cognitive estrangement Spiegel on Suvin “Although everyone seems to agree that sf renders the content of its stories somehow ‘strange,’ there are upon closer inspection considerable differences in the way sf scholars make use of Suvin’s concept. This is partly due to inconsistencies within Suvin’s own definition, which are themselves a consequence of the vagueness of the concept of ‘estrangement’ before it was introduced into sf criticism.” - Simon Spiegel, ‘Things Made Strange,’ in Science Fiction Studies 35 (2008), p.369.

Some shortcomings? • A critique that is grounded mostly in film studies. • Adopts a narratological stance, and informed more by Shklovsky and Formalism than Brecht and the broader Marxist context.

• A surprisingly rigid distinction between form and content, and confidence that we can all agree on the difference. • Not a very sympathetic approach, and doesn’t seem that interested in understanding the appeal of Suvin’s concept, or in offering solidarity with its politics.

I’m going to finish by giving almost a brief review of Spiegel’s 2008 article, since I think it is becoming a little bit of an authoritative statement on cognitive estrangement. It’s important to think about the style in which Suvin develops cognitive estrangement. Suvin is writes with an exhuberant erudition; very willing to leap around and be sweeping. He prioritizes the flexible, the open, the suggestive, and he gives his readers a lot of room to move around in and a lot of energy to get us moving. These aren’t exact recipes; there are bits where he seems to say, “add one pineapple or egg.” At the same time, there are moments of shrewd pedantry. I don’t really have time to look at it in detail, but one clear and oft-quoted definition of science fiction as a literature of cognitive estrangement by Suvin has the very interesting quality of specifying necessary and sufficient conditions … and then continuing, adding more to a definition which should by rights be complete. Interestingly, what Suvin additionally adds is more-or-less that the science fiction should be non-mimetic, as if this were not necessarily implied by the presence and interaction of cognition and estrangement. That’s a very interesting idea to me. But the inconsistencies, I think, are part of the strength of Suvin’s work. Spiegel’s article is meticulous and useful, and I’m very grateful it exists. I feel like Spiegel has got frustrated so that we don’t have to! But I have a few overall concerns: I think, bluntly, it is an unsympathetic article, and its attempts to build upon and improve upon Suvin actually often lose what’s important and preserve and elaborate what’s incidental. I really don’t share Spiegel’s sense that “formal” or “rhetorical” features are easy to spot and separate out from everything else, and even if I did, in the context of Marxist aesthetics I would be obliged to work hard to complicate the

form/content distinctions Spiegel tacitly relies on. Spiegel relies quite a bit on “levels” and narratology, and his examples are all taken from films; I really think to engage with cognitive estrangement you need to look at at least film and literature. Above all, although Spiegel and I are aligned in thinking perhaps cognitive estrangement has had its day, I don’t get much sense that Spiegel is interested in animating science fiction as a political tool. [CLICK]

Freedman’s cognitive estrangement

Freedman’s cognitive estrangement Freedman on Suvin • A sympathetic and generally excellent reworking of Suvin’s ideas, firmly in the Marxist tradition but with interesting things to say about feminism, as well as psychoanalysis and post-structuralism.

• Probably doesn’t do cognitive estrangement any favours by replacing “cognitive” with “cognition effect” (mirroring “defamiliarization effect”). Far too close to turning “cognitive” into “rhetorically plausible.”

Freedman’s has a book-length work that is much more sympathetic to Suvin. It also puts some of Suvin’s ideas into forms that are easier to argue with, if you want to argue with them. I do think that his refinement of cognition into “cognitive effect” – in other words, science fiction makes something seem plausible or rational – is actually a lapse disguised as progress; as I hope I’ve already suggested, cognitive is already carrying some sophisticated nuances about conditions of possibility of knowledge, and the immanence of rationality within history. Freedman’s refinement actually covers up the way in which the very distinction between “rhetorically constructed to seem rational” and “actually IS rational” is a problematic and misleading one. [CLICK]

Final thoughts

Final thoughts Cognitive Estrangement and Ideology • The concept of cognitive estrangement really comes to life and proves its value in close reading. • It is worth asking: what is estranged, from what, to what, by what, and for whom? What would it take for it not to be strange? Are there already ways in which, or people for whom, it is not strange? • At the same time, it is very difficult to be wrong about cognitive estrangement. For such a central concept, we seldom see critical debates around particular ascriptions of cognitive estrangement. • Reliance on the concept tends to blur the political differences between different readers.

• Too often cognitive estrangement is a way of excusing science fiction from ideology. This is a reductio ad absurdum of any approach to speculative fiction which purports to have Marxist roots. • Let’s stop giving ourselves a free pass. The assumption with science fiction, as with all culture, must be that it is ideological, supportive of the status quo.

• Anything that is counter to the dominant system of power must be discovered and argued for on a caseby-case basis, and such arguments must be treated with scepticism. We have no reason to expect a higher incidence of counter-hegemonic potential in science fiction than anywhere else.

Some final thoughts, I hope building toward the next iteration of this paper. The concept of cognitive estrangement tends to really come to life in close reading, when it is enriched by the flow of details from particular works. In part, perhaps the concept’s very lack of integrity is what makes it so permeable to this rich flow, so capable of being reshaped by the immanent qualities of the work in question. I don’t think contradictoriness alone is a good reason for rejecting the concept, in fact, quite the opposite. Including the concept in a piece of critical writing is a bit like having a lucky charm or mascot on your desk that reminds you to think more dialectically. I certainly wouldn’t want to take this lucky charm out of other critics’ toolkit, nor could I. But I for one might start to look for new tools to add, and also to take the imperative to think dialectically as something which might also dissolve the terminology of cognitive estrangement itself. That might happen if, whenever I am tempted to rely on the concept, I ask myself: what is estranged, from what, to what, by what, and for whom? What would it take for it not to be strange? Are there already ways in which, or people for whom, it is not strange? At the moment, it seems to me currently that it is very difficult to be wrong about cognitive estrangement (perhaps again we see a link with Kant’s aesthetics, and the notion that you cannot reason someone into an aesthetic experience). But given how important the concept is, overtly or tacitly, to so much science fiction studies, it ought to be possible for one critic to take issue with another critic’s ascription of it; at the moment, I’m not sure that is the case. When I am told that something fantastical is an estrangement of something urgent and violent in the real, too often I feel I must take it on faith. And finally, I think it has become a concept that lends itself to

complacency. It lends itself to complacency in the first place because it appears to place great priority on reader response, while actually erasing the difference between different readers. And in the second place: if we have got to a position where we can believe ourselves to be using a concept with a Marxist heritage, a concept intimately connected with the concept of totality, and using that concept in the course of critique broadly conceived, and yet the most conspicuous feature of that concept is that it guarantees us a kind of safety outside of ideology, outside of complicity, a cosy perch where we can glimpse utopia whenever we like, so long as we insist that it is ever-so fleeting and elusive – well, we must have gone wrong somewhere! The assumption with science fiction, as with all culture, must be that it is ideological, supportive of the status quo. Anything that is counter to the dominant system of power must be discovered and argued for on a case-by-case basis, and such arguments must be treated with scepticism. And we have no reason to expect a higher incidence of counter-hegemonic potential in science fiction than anywhere else.

Thank you!

Thank you!

Slide 30

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