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A ghost in the machine : the struggle for epistemological territory in chaos Coffey, E. Elaine 1995

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A GHOST IN THE MACHINE: THE STRUGGLE FOR EPISTEMOLOGICAL TERRITORY IN CHAOS by E. ELAINE COFFEY B.A., The University of British Columbia, 1990 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES Department of English We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA November 1995 ©E. Elaine Coffey, 1995  In  presenting this  degree at the  thesis  in  University of  partial  fulfilment  British Columbia,  of  the  requirements  for  an  advanced  I agree that the Library shall make it  freely available for reference and study. I further agree that  permission for extensive  copying of  this thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the head of my  department  or  by  his  or  her  representatives.  It  is  understood  that  publication of this thesis for financial gain shall not be allowed without permission.  Department of The University of British Columbia Vancouver, Canada M  DE-6 (2/88)  copying  or  my written  ii  Abstract This paper is a rhetorical examination of three works on the subject of chaos. The first two works discussed are the popular scientific texts Order Out of Chaos: Man's New Dialogue with Nature, by Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers, and Chaos: Making a New Science, by James Gleick. These two works, which cover the emergence of a new science of nonlinear dynamics, are analysed using Lawrence Prelli's topological criteria for scientific reasonableness, as outlined in his book A Rhetoric of Science.. The third work discussed is N. Katherine Hayles' book Chaos Bound, which is an interdisciplinary study of chaos as a cultural entity that was transformed by and has transformed our systems of knowledge in postmodern society. This paper is a discussion of the distinctions that Hayles' has drawn between Prigogine and Stengers' text and Gleick's. Hayles maintains that Prigogine and Stengers' text and Gleick's represent two branches of chaos science. This paper challenges that assumption, and offers an alternative explanation for the differences between Gleick's book and Prigogine and Stengers' book based on a rhetorical analysis of those two texts. This paper then goes on to suggest a reason for Hayles' portrayal of a split in chaos science based on her reading of Prigogine and Stengers and Gleick. It is suggested that Hayles' cultural model (taken from both science and literature) for the transmission of knowledge leads her to posit a split in science that might positively reflect on her own interdisciplinary study. After an analysis of Hayles' cultural model (illustrating the dynamics of culture through the terms ecology, economy, and equivocation), a suggestion is made for an extension of her model that could resolve the paradox which has led her to portray two branches of chaos science.  in  TABLE OF CONTENTS  Abstract  ii  Table of Contents  iii  INTRODUCTION  1  Chapter One  Order Out of Chaos: A Theological Proposition  5  Chapter Two  Chaos: Making a New Science: A Logical Proposition  29  Chapter Three  Chaos Bound: An Epistemological Proposition  44  CONCLUSION  62  Bibliography  65  1  INTRODUCTION  As with the literature of other so-called hard sciences, the literature of nonlinear dynamics, or "chaos" science, has recently come under the scrutiny of disciplines outside 1  science, such as literary criticism. The language and ideas, even the images of nonlinear dynamics have been used as a rationale for social philosophies, institutional makeovers, and for the very interdisciplinary studies that examine the material of "chaos." However, an examination of the ideological bases of these approaches to chads has yet to be made, as far as my research has revealed. In this thesis, I intend to do such a study based on a rhetorical examination of three works. First, and perhaps pivotal for my thesis, is Katherine Hayles' book Chaos Bound. Hayles' book is an Interdisciplinary survey of the concept of chaos as it weaves its way in and out of various times, disciplines and genres. In her study, Hayles examines two texts from the sciences, in comparison and contrast with numerous literary texts. The two scientific texts that she examines, James Gleick's Chaos: Making a New Science and Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers' Order Out of Chaos: Man's New Dialogue with Nature, are appraised by Hayles from two distinct points of view. Gleick's book is treated as a popular science text, Prigogine and Stengers' as a philosophical treatise. In consequence, Hayles inscribes a split in the science of "chaos" which indicates, she says, that chaos science consists of  Over the last thirty years, nonlinear dynamics has been emerging as a new and powerful scientific discipline. It is somewhat responsible for restructuring the practice and philosophy of classical science. In classical science, apparently linear systems were treated as the rule, while nonlinear systems, those characteristically unpredictable, were treated as aberrations. A linear system can be expressed by a simple mathematical relation through a progression of successive points determining the state of the system independent of its point of origin. The study of nonlinear systems, nonlinear dynamics, or, more popularly, chaos, is predicated on the fact that the state of the system at any given point is intricately dependent on a system's initial conditions. Those initial conditions are fundamentally indeterminable because an infinite amount of information would be required to account for every minute perturbation affecting the system. However, the behaviour of such systems can be modeled. The behaviour follows a regular pattern governed by a set of deceptively simple iterative mathematical functions which produce feedback that gives "rise to complicated phenomena" (Horgan 98). The influential onslaught of nonlinear dynamics has resulted in the recognition that nonlinear phenomena are "ubiquitous" (Feigenbaum 3) in our world, where linearity is in fact the exception. Thus the science associated with chaos has pan-disciplinary applications from meteorology, biology, and economics to the most esoteric studies of mathematical physics. At the same time, the science of modeling nonlinear functions by computer has generated fascinating and beautiful images that have captured the popular imagination. Strange but familiar images in combination with the strange but familiar ideas of chaos have facilitated the enlistment of its fruitful explanatory power for theoretical ideas outside the boundaries of science. 1  2  a metaphysical branch that lacks evidence, and an experimental branch that lacks imaginative speculation. Hayles places Prigogine and Stengers in the first branch of chaos that she defines. This first branch ostensibly sees the significance of studying chaotic phenomena in what such research can tell us about the inevitable direction of time. Hayles says that Prigogine and Stengers concern themselves with resolving "a longstanding metaphysical problem" that has prompted philosophers to ponder the irreconcilability of being with becoming (10). Hayles places Gleick and his scientists in the second branch of chaos that she defines. This second branch ostensibly sees the significance of studying chaotic phenomena in explaining physical turbulence and the existence of pattern in apparently random phenomena. Hayles says that the scientists who fall in "the second branch" concern themselves with explaining nature's ability to create and renew itself. However, when we examine the distinctions that Hayles draws between the concerns of one branch and the concerns of the other, it becomes, apparent that the distinctions are largely unfounded. Gleick's scientists spout philosophy about "becoming rather than being" just as Prigogine and Stengers do (Gleick 5); and Prigogine and Stengers' conclusions about the arrow of time are significant (even within the context of their own work) only because such conclusions posit a theory about creation and renewal in nature, which is a major theme in Gleick's book (Prigogine 298). Accordingly, Hayles' case for a "definite breach" within the science of chaos rests largely on what she calls James Gleick's "remarkable omission" of Prigogine from his historical account of those responsible for developing chaos theory: Gleick "barely mentions Prigogine's name in passing [in a note] describing his work as springing from a 'highly individual philosophical view'" (Hayles 11). Hayles attributes Gleick's oversight to his desire to focus on the experimental side of the field, and the traditional reticence of mainstream science to indulge in speculative theory. Her implication is that Prigogine and Stengers' work has been marginalized because of its tendency to extrapolate from the data to draw sweeping conclusions about the nature of existence.  3  David Porush also believes that Gleick unfairly ignores Prigogine and Stengers in Chaos. Porush contends that Gleick, not the scientists he writes about, is responsible for the theoretical shape of chaos because Gleick's popular book is so powerful and influential (Porush 156). Like Hayles, Porush claims that Gleick left Prigogine and Stengers out of his narrative history because Gleick was only interested in covering the experimental side of the new science. According to Porush, Gleick lacks the imagination to see the grand, philosophical implications of chaos science, and prefers to milk readerly interest out of the prospects chaos holds for enhanced computer modeling (163-4). Other factors may have contributed to Gleick's overlooking Prigogine and Stengers in his book. I would like to explore an alternative explanation for Prigogine and Stengers' absence from Gleick's book, by reexamining Order Out of Chaos and Chaos: Making a New Science using a topical analysis based on the work of Lawrence Prelli. Prelli defines rhetoric as "a theory of systematic, communicative practice" that uses symbols to "induce cooperative acts and attitudes" in situated audiences (6-7). In accordance with his rhetorical theory, Prelli has devised a framework of conventional topics, or themes for inventing and evaluating scientific arguments. Kenneth Zagacki and William Keith have taken Prelli's themes, or topoi, and applied them to a specific discursive situation, the scientific revolution. I will use Prelli's inventive and evaluative topics for science to examine the different rhetorical approaches of Prigogine and Stengers and Gleick. The rhetorical themes of revolutionary science suggested by Zagacki and Keith will also be used to examine Prigogine and Stengers' and Gleick's rhetoric. I will as well consider how Katherine Hayles and David Porush respond in a rhetorically significant way to Prigogine and Stengers and Gleick. When both Prigogine and Stengers' and Gleick's texts are treated from a topical point of view, the "split" in chaos science takes on the tenor of a political rather than a philosophical debate. That is, the delineation of branches within chaos science becomes a matter of ruling what rhetoric is acceptable and what is not acceptable; a rhetorical point of view helps us understand how such rulings are formed within the political economy of scientific institutions.  The first chapter will be a rhetorical examination of Prigogine and Stengers' book. An examination of Gleick's book will be the subject of the second chapter. In the third chapter, I will examine Hayles' book (which in actuality I will use throughout for her enlightening and revealing critiques) as an interdisciplinary study, and suggest possible extensions to her model.  5  Chapter One Order Out of Chaos: A Theological Proposition It is the intention of this essay to show that rhetorical not philosophical differences, separate Prigogine and Stengers' version of chaos from Gleick's. The subject of this first chapter is Prigogine and Stengers' book Order Out of Chaos. I will examine Prigogine and Stengers' rhetoric by first looking at the subject of their argument and then at its presentation. Prigogine and Stengers' theories are sometimes difficult to follow, but since, as will be discussed, the difficulty of their theories (presented in the inappropriate forum of popular science) may be a 2  specific factor in Gleick's excluding Prigogine and Stengers from his book, it is important to include an overview of their theories. In this first chapter, I will enlist the explanations of Lawrence Prelli's topological criteria for scientific reasonableness, and Kenneth Zagacki and William Keith's criteria for reasonableness in revolutionary scientific rhetoric, to evaluate the efficacy of Prigogine and Stengers' presentation of chaos. I will show how Katherine Hayles' critique of Prigogine and Stengers' work implicitly uses the evaluative techniques for scientific reasonableness that Prelli outlines. Finally, I will show how specific aspects of Prigogine and Stengers' argument may have led to their exclusion from a work such as Gleick's that adheres to the virtues of mainstream science. Those specific aspects include allying their theories with inappropriate metaphysical constructs, failing to establish a communal ethos, challenging scientific institutions inappropriately, and presenting unauthorized claims to a nonscientific audience.  Prigogine and Stengers specify that their work is addressed to a general audience: "We must open new channels of communication between science and society. It is in this spirit that this book has been written" (22). Katherine Hayles acknowledges that one of the reasons Prigogine and Stengers' work is important is that it is one of the few in the field of chaos to explain the concepts in words rather than mathematics (93). In addition, numerous reviewers have recognized that Prigogine and Stengers book is addressed to a general audience. For example, Robert T. Kelley says Prigogine and Stengers "seek to make the important general implications of their work accessible to a broader audience" (133). David Layzer says that Prigogine and Stengers "are to be congratulated for their impressive attempt to bring . . . scientific and philosophical issues to a wide audience" (21). And a reviewer in Kirkus Reviews says "[t]he volume at hand [Prigogine and Stengers' book] finally presents his [Prigogine's] ideas to a wide English speaking audience" (196). 2  6  The content of Prigogine and Stengers' theories is controversial. So, it is necessary and 3  appropriate to have a rudimentary understanding of Prigogine and Stengers' scientific theories before specifically examining their rhetoric. Therefore, as a preamble to a rhetorical analysis of Prigogine and Stengers' book, I will briefly outline their scientific concepts.  4  In Order Out of Chaos. Prigogine and Stengers strive to synthesize theories from thermodynamics, biological evolution, classical physics and quantum physics. They seek to reconcile seemingly antithetical ideas from these diverse fields. For example, the second law of thermodynamics reasons that the entropy (disorder) production of an isolated system is always positive. In other words, all closed systems are evolving toward increased disorder. A pool with a divider across its middle is commonly used to illustrate the concept of entropy. In one half of 5  the pool is water. In the other half of the pool is ink. In its divided state, the entropy in the pool is low, and the potential for the mixing of the water and the ink is high. In this state the pool possesses a high degree of order. If the divider is removed, the ink and the water begin to mix spontaneously. They will continue to mix until the liquid in the pool is a homogeneous mixture of water and ink. Such a The evidence for a controversy between Prigogine and Stengers' book and Gleick's is largely the result of Katherine Hayles' assessment, and David Porush's contention that Prigogine was "excommunicated from the church of science" by Gleick (158-9). However, there are hints of a broader controversy in the reception of Prigogine and Stengers' book according to some of the reviews of their English version. (The French version of Prigogine and Stengers' book, according to some reviewers was a best-seller in Europe [further evidence of its intended general audience]. But the English version, translated by the authors themselves, had a whole section added to it, according to Prigogine and Stengersfchapters VII through IX in the second section]. In addition, the authors tell us, they had to rewrite the third section entirely, adding "the formulation of the evolutionary paradigm in the physical sciences" [xxx]. I feel that any reviews of the French version are largely irrelevant, because the two books are not the same). David Layzer asks, in a review article, "[t]he author's claim to describe a 'conceptual revolution' that is changing the way scientists look at time, change, order and irreversibility.... But are the proposed solutions valid?" (21). Layzer concludes that "Both biological order and astronomical processes are accompanied by dissipation ~ that is the growth of entropy ~ but in neither . . . does dissipation play an important role. A better explanation for the emergence of order must still be sought" (321). A reviewer in Kirkus Reviews, though she/he gives a largely favourable review, says "not all will be convinced [by Prigogine and Stengers' theories]: determinism and its modern variants offer alternative theories. But Prigogine's feat of intellectual daring is exhilarating" (196). And David Burns, the reviewer for the Commonweal, says that Prigogine and Stengers' work was the "catalyst for an intellectual bun-fight among disciplines as diverse as entomology and epistemology" (411). Despite these reviews, (that may be evidence of a larger controversy sparked by Prigogine and Stengers' book) this essay suggests only that there is a controversy in Gleick's omission of Prigogine and Stengers. My evidence for this controversy rests mainly on Hayles' contention that Gleick's omission is ."remarkable," and Porush's contention that Gleick's omission is a "sin" (161). I believe these examples are enough to call attention to Gleick's excluding Prigogine and Stengers from his book, and to call it a controversy. Prigogine and Stengers have written a long, interesting and extremely complex book. Unless otherwise stated, all examples are my explanations of Prigogine and Stengers' theories. 3  4  5  7  state is called equilibrium, and is said to be an attractor state of thermodynamic systems (meaning that a system spontaneously converges toward that state when no intervention alters its course). In a state of equilibrium the entropy of the pool is high and its degree of order is low. The episteme of the second law of thermodynamics implies that our universe, our world and everything in it are involved in a dance toward this inevitable kind of entropic (disorderly) decay. In stark contrast to these implications is the biological paradigm of evolution. Evolution has demonstrated that some parts of our world have been evolving toward higher and higher forms of complexity. Prigogine and Stengers point out that the spontaneous division of cells is responsible for new life. They tell us that cities become more complex, not less complex, in time. Contrary to evolving toward a disorderly homogeneous stew, evolution implies that parts of our world are becoming increasingly differentiated and highly ordered. Prigogine and Stengers ask how can both the second law of thermodynamics, and the theory of evolution be right, or even coexist? They try to reconcile thermodynamics with the concept of evolution by showing that the notion of classical Newtonian physics that time swings both ways (a notion preserved by the theories of Relativity and quantum physics) is not true for all systems. In fact, reversible time is only true for a very limited number of simple systems. t  Open systems embedded in an environment that fosters energy exchanges are very complex (not isolated). As complex systems tend towards equilibrium many interchanges occur among the molecules of a system in collision with one another, and in interactive exchanges with their environment. For example, the mixing of the pool is affected by atmospheric conditions. This myriad of exchanges and interactions determines a system's qualitative and quantitative states at any given moment. Consider the pool example. If the pool were an open system, rain or wind would introduce other variables affecting the system's entropy production (such as more water, or stray leaves). Many variables are introduced by a system's interactions with other systems. Prigogine and Stengers argue that for a system to run backward, for time essentially to reverse itself, all of the exchanges or collisions among interacting molecules would have to occur in exactly the reverse way that they first took place. Think of the reversal of time as a film running backward. In real life, we cannot open our mouths and disgorge the shiny apple we just  8  ate, reformed and perfect, though such a feat could be accomplished in a film run backward. In real life, shattered china does not leap back onto the table and reform itself seamlessly, though in a film run backward broken china could reconstruct itself. Likewise, in real life, the molecules of water and ink in the pool example do not spontaneously separate back onto opposite sides of the pool. According to Prigogine and Stengers, Newtonian science suggests that the irreversibility of time is a consequence of our subjectivity. In other words, Newtonian science posits that, in theory, in a world not subject to the interpretation of human perception, the apple should be able to reform itself, the china should be able to reconstruct itself, and the molecules of the pool should be able to separate themselves out. In Order Out of Chaos Prigogine and Stengers address why, contrary to Newtonian thought, time cannot be reversible. They tell us that for time reversal to occur in complex systems (the outstanding majority of systems) like those of our experience, an almost infinite amount of information would have to be stored in those systems. Prigogine and Stengers say that such information would allow the molecules of the systems to "remember" all aspects of their of interaction and reenact it exactly. Such memory is impossible because it would have to be virtually infinite. Prigogine and Stengers say that in a complex system an "infinite entropy barrier" exists (infinite interactions accomplished as the system heads towards equilibrium) that prohibits the reversal of time. The forward march of time is not a figment of our limited and ignorant subjective experience as Newtonian theory had posited. Time's direction is a bona fide objective experience. Irreversible changes toward the complex really do occur. The "arrow of time" explains why time is not reversible, but it does not explain why some systems can evolve into higher and higher forms of complexity instead of merely evolving towards disorder. The arrow of time does not explain why an acorn grows into an oak tree, or why the meeting of an egg and a sperm causes the spontaneous division of cells that develops into a fetus.  9  Prigogine and Stengers have found that the kind of complexity needed to build new forms of matter is a consequence of the kinds of open systems that we experience everyday. In other words, the same kind of interactive dependency that prohibits broken china from reforming itself spontaneously (that prohibits the reversal of time), also builds new forms of matter. Prigogine and Stengers tell us that complexity can actually arise out of conditions near equilibrium (a state illustrated by the example of water and ink having completely mixed in a pool). Prigogine and Stengers ask us to consider an open system in a state close to equilibrium. This open system can interact with other (external) systems. Energy exchanges between the open system and external systems can cause fluctuations in the system(s). (Imagine the effect of a hurricane on our pool example). Under certain (sympathetic) conditions those fluctuations can be amplified and spread quickly from microscopic to macroscopic parameters in the system. Very small changes in the system can produce large-scale effects. Prigogine and Stengers say the molecules "communicate" with one another to produce a "coherent" qualitative change in the behaviour of the overall system. Two examples can illustrate the potential of small fluctuations to cause large scale change. The first example is a ball sitting stable at the top of a peak, surrounded by a steep grade on all sides. A slight perturbation from any side could move the ball. The ball could roll down the hill. Where the ball will end up is hard to predict. In this scenario, a small fluctuation in the conditions affecting the ball's stable position has large consequences. The ball is pushed out of its equilibrium. On the other hand, say the ball started off sitting in a valley surrounded by a steep grade on all sides. Slight perturbations would cause relatively small changes in the ball's initial conditions. If the ball was pushed out of its resting place, it would most likely return to a resting place very close to its original position. Where the ball would end up would be much easier to predict. In this scenario, a small fluctuation in the conditions affecting the ball's stable position has small consequences. The ball remains in a state near equilibrium.  10  In. the first example, conditions were such that small changes could produce large consequences. In the second example, conditions were such that small changes could produce relatively small consequences. A historical example also illustrates the concept of large consequences stemming from small fluctuations. In 1940, the Tacoma Narrows Bridge fell apart because small fluctuations resulted in large scale changes in the bridge's structure. Wind frequency caused the bridge to resonate. The bridge's resonance became more and more accentuated as the wind continued, until the bridge began oscillating wildly. The concrete and steel bridge began twisting and waving, until it fell apart. In this case, the power of amplifying small fluctuations in a system resulted in the collapse of the bridge. In physical systems, Prigogine and Stengers say, fluctuations in a system's microscopic state, once amplified to macroscopic proportions, can drive the system further and further away from conditions of equilibrium (140-3). The system reaches a critical point, or threshold of stability, where a bifurcation occurs. At bifurcation points uncertainty prevails, and the direction in which the system will evolve is relatively random (although Prigogine and Stengers speculate that even minute gravitational forces will play a role in pattern "selection"). According to Prigogine and Stengers, "[w]henever we reach a bifurcation point, deterministic description breaks down. The type of fluctuation present in the system will lead to the choice of the branch it will follow" (177). Prigogine and Stengers tell us that an initial bifurcation does not explain the reorganization of matter into new forms. The initial bifurcation, they say, introduces a certain periodic frequency of oscillation that is self-similarly replicated over many scale levels. As a result, according to Prigogine and 6  Stengers, the multiplicity of interacting frequencies over many scales gives the system a chaotic appearance at such boundaries of stability where bifurcation is occurring. That "chaos" which results produces the possibility of large scale fluctuations:  Peitgen et. al. illustrate the idea of self-similarity with a head of cauliflower. They say that if you take the whole head of cauliflower and break it at its stems into several florets, each of the smaller pieces resembles the whole on a smaller scale. If you then take a single floret and break it into its smaller constituent florets, you will see that each of the small pieces still resembles the larger whole on a smaller scale. 6  11  The succession of bifurcations forms an irreversible evolution where the determinism of characteristic frequencies produces an increasing randomness stemming from the multiplicity of those frequencies (Prigogine 169). A good example of cascading bifurcations that produce chaotic (unpredictable) behaviour can be seen in the transition region of water changing from smooth to turbulent flow. As a rough illustration, consider water flowing from a tap. At low flow rates, the water is smooth, steady and transparent. This flow regime is referred to as laminar. As the flow rate increases (the tap is turned on a little harder), the flow becomes less transparent (translucent). This flow regime is called turbulent. The region in between these two flow regimes is called the transition region. In the transition region the behaviour of the flow becomes unpredictable and chaotic (sometimes taking on the characteristics of laminar flow, sometimes taking on the characteristics of turbulent flow, and sometimes taking on some of the characteristics of both laminar and turbulent flow). Two critical points of transition define the chaotic region. The first critical point is the laminar to transition critical point. The second critical point is the transition to turbulent critical point. In laminar or turbulent states the behaviour of the flow is qualitatively and quantitatively regular and predictable. In the region defined as the transition between these two states (the chaotic region) the flow is qualitatively and quantitatively irregular and unpredictable. Prigogine and Stengers describe the critical point in laminar to transition flow as a microscopic initial bifurcation in the flow. The (macroscopic/overall) character of the water flow changes its quantitative and qualitative properties at this critical point. According to Prigogine and Stengers' model, in the transition between smooth (laminar) flow and rough (turbulent) flow, the initial bifurcation introduces a single characteristic frequency of oscillation (167). That frequency is introduced by the changing conditions of the faucet opening. As the faucet opens wider, and the flow increases, "more and more oscillati[ng] frequencies appear" (Prigogine 167). According to Prigogine and Stengers, "the interplays among the frequencies produce possibilities of large [macroscopic] fluctuations"(167). And macroscopic fluctuations in turn produce the possibility of large scale change within the system.  12  Prigogine and Stengers say the region in which such interplay between frequencies is occurring is called "chaotic." The flow in the transition region is not chaotic in the sense of being random, but the flow appears chaotic (in the sense of appearing random, or disorderly), according to Prigogine and Stengers. They say that the chaotic appearance stems from cascading bifurcations that occur over many different scales (168). As the number of bifurcations increases, due to the replication of bifurcations (on both small scales and large scales), the multiplicity of competing frequencies between the scale levels of the system causes the system to evolve in ways that cannot be predicted. Because competing scales introduce unpredictability, in the chaotic region, you cannot predict the flow pattern of the water. Far-from-equilibrium conditions (such as water in transition from laminar to turbulent flow) supply an environment in which spontaneous self-organization can occur. That is, farfrom-equilibrium conditions support large scale change within a system. According to Prigogine and Stengers, systems driven from near-equilibrium into far-from-equilibrium states, such as water evolving from laminar to turbulent flow, cause the molecular behavior of matter to change its qualitative properties (142). Prigogine and Stengers call the new forms of matter that result from systems driven from near equilibrium into far-from-equilibrium states "dissipative structures." They say the term "dissipative structures" is meant to "emphasize the close association . . . between structure and order on one side, and dissipation or waste on the other" (143). In other words, the name "dissipative structures" is meant to emphasize creation's (order's) necessary alliance with destruction (disorder). Or, to put it in terms specific to Prigogine and Stenger's argument, the term "dissipative structures" illustrates the alliance of the second law of thermodynamics (the law of entropy or disorder), with the theory of evolution (increasing order). Prigogine and Stengers argue that dissipative structures not only occur in physical systems, but can occur in chemical and biological systems as well. In chemical and biological systems, Prigogine and Stengers speculate, differences in the concentrations of characteristic substances push the system into far-from-equilibrium conditions where "autoorganization"  13  (defined as the system spontaneously organizing itself into a new form) is initiated (153, 159). In chemistry, Prigogine and Stengers tell us, small fluctuations can introduce large scale change, but only when a specific "autocatalytic" substance is present in the system (144). Prigogine and Stengers say that an autocatalytic substance is the only mechanism that can amplify fluctuations in a chemical system (145). An autocatalytic substance generates more of itself, once a reaction is initiated by some input variable (some catalyst that pushes the system out of equilibrium). For example, they examine "the aggregation of slime molds, which when threatened with starvation coalesce into a single supracellular mass" capable of "invading other environments [where food sources exist]" to survive (181). In the case of starving slime molds, Prigogine and Stengers speculate, the low concentration of a normally plentiful food source causes the slime molds to produce some kind of signal, perhaps chemical, that facilitates the aggregation of many small molds into one large mold. Another good example of spontaneous self-organization initiated by far-from-equilibrium conditions in a biological system is the reaction that occurs between a sperm and an egg. Prigogine and Stengers speculate that the transaction between a sperm and an egg creates farfrom-equilibrium conditions that initiate a spontaneous division of cells, which leads to new life. Prigogine and Stengers use chaos to explain why life begins, and how it takes shape. What conclusions do Prigogine and Stengers draw from their scientific theories? They say that they have unified concepts from dynamics (the irreversibility of time) and thermodynamics (increasing entropy). They say that they have shown how it is possible to incorporate the concepts of irreversibility, entropy, and evolution into a dynamic framework that formerly described time as reversible. According to Prigogine and Stengers, the transition from a paradigm governed by reversible time, to one that incorporates the forward motion of time: "leads to a new concept of matter, matter that is 'active,' as matter leads to irreversible processes and irreversible processes organize matter" (Prigogine xxix). In other words, the complex interactions of matter prohibit time reversal. And the forward direction of time leads to the creation of new, sustainable forms of matter. Unless circumstances intervene otherwise, once broken, a china plate becomes thousands of shards of china. Once sown, an acorn becomes an  14  oak tree. Once conceived, a fetus becomes a baby. This process of spontaneous selforganization represents a new evolutionary paradigm for scientific and philosophical inquiry. It is a paradigm which reconciles the seemingly antithetical ideas supported by the theory of evolution (increasing order), and the second law of thermodynamics (increasing disorder). So far, we have looked at Prigogine and Stengers' subject, to show that they are presenting more than philosophy. Analysing Prigogine and Stengers' rhetoric suggests that the controversy surrounding their work does not stem so much from their subject as from their presentation. I will now turn to a rhetorical examination of Prigogine and Stengers' work based 7  on Lawrence Prelli's topics for scientific reasonableness. Prelli's topics represent organizing themes for the creation and evaluation of scientific discourse. I will use Prelli's topics to evaluate the effectiveness of Prigogine and Stengers' arguments for their evolutionary paradigm as a new theoretical basis for science. I will also introduce and discuss Kenneth Zagacki and William Keith's topics for revolutionary scientific rhetoric. Since Prigogine and Stengers claim to be spearheading a scientific revolution, Zagacki and Keith's topics should be helpful in evaluating Prigogine and Stengers' rhetoric. Katherine Hayles' evaluation of Prigogine and Stengers' argument will be used to show how scientists might implicitly use rhetorical criteria like those outlined by Prelli when critiquing the work of other scientists. Examining Prigogine and Stengers' rhetoric with these resources, I will offer alternative explanations to those of Hayles and Porush for Gleick's excluding Prigogine and Stengers from his book. It may be that Order Out of Chaos has been "snubbed" by Gleick and his scientists because Prigogine and 8  Stengers violate principles of reasonable scientific discourse, as outlined by Prelli. I hope to show that Prigogine and Stengers may have been snubbed because, among other things, they make inappropriate use of metaphysical constructs to discuss their theories, they make inappropriate challenges to scientific institutions, they fail to give due credit for ideas or research  Prelli says that the "[j]udgement of a paper's acceptability is not as much a matter of its 'truth' or 'correctness' as an acknowledgement that the rhetor has developed arguments that are plausible enough to deserve a hearing by a professional audience" (26). In an interview with Porush, Gleick claimed that his reason for excluding Prigogine and Stengers from his history was that the scientists Gleick interviewed did not think of Prigogine in their accounts of chaos science's development (160). 7  8  15  similar to their own, they fail to support their ideas with actual research, and finally, they present untested, unsubstantiated knowledge claims to a nonscientific audience. Prigogine and Stengers offer their ideas about the creation of new forms of matter as a new paradigm for science (a new organizing episteme that establishes the direction of scientific inquiry and research). Prigogine and Stengers say that the whole of "reality" as we know it is constituted by the relation of chance (the unpredictability of a system in a far-from-equilibrium state, or "chaos") and necessity (the evolution of systems towards disorder in one-directional time) outlined in their evolutionary paradigm. They use their theory as an ontological or metaphysical model (one that actually describes reality) to explain why birds fly, why we build road systems, why there is an Exxon corporation, why our minds work, and why great art exists. They offer such explanations to avoid what Prigogine and Stengers call the "tragic choice" afforded to us by classical science. That "tragic choice," Prigogine and Stengers say, is a choice between the sterile and alienated world of classical science, where "man's" objective experience of "himself and "his" world is subjectified and denied, and the fearful idolatrous world of an external God whose mysterious rationality rules over a "dead" nature that behaves as a passive automaton to "His" will. Prigogine and Stengers propose their theories as a "new naturalism," allied with eastern spiritual philosophies, to assuage the modern angst that they say has been induced by secular science. They quote Chuang Tsu (a fifth-century Chinese mathematician, and astronomer) and appeal to his conception of a "spontaneous, self-organizing world" as the direction in which Western science must inevitably be lead as a consequence of chaos research: How [ceaselessly] Heaven revolves! How [constantly] Earth abides at rest! Do the Sun and the Moon contend about their respective places? Is there someone presiding over and directing those things? Who binds and connects them together? Who causes and maintains them without trouble or exertion? Or is there perhaps some secret mechanism in consequence of which they cannot but be as they are? (22).  16  First Prigogine and Stengers propose an alliance of their theories with eastern mysticism, then they propose their spiritual conception of nature as a new theoretical basis for science. Prigogine and Stengers want to merge the traditions of western science with the traditions of eastern religious philosophy: "Perhaps we will eventually be able to combine the Western tradition, with its emphasis on experimentation and quantitative formulations, with a tradition such as the Chinese one, with its view of a spontaneous, self-organizing world" (22). In developing a new model for science, Prigogine and Stengers propose an alliance of their theory with eastern spiritual philosophies. Subsequently, they propose a new scientific order based on that alliance. Prigogine and Stengers' alliance of their scientific claims with eastern mystical traditions conflicts with Prelli's criteria for reasonable scientific argument. Prelli says that a scientific conception of order must be based on empirical explanations: [t]he constituents of . . . [a] proposed [scientific] order must be grounded empirically and should not include, for example, supernatural constructs invoked in the writings of theologians or linguistic analyses such as philosophers often render (124). As interpretive schemes, Prigogine and Stengers' metaphors might be effective, but allied with a call for a new scientific order, their metaphors violate certain discursive norms of science, as outlined by Prelli. According to Prelli, violating the discursive norms of science can lead to the questioning and censure of a scientific rhetor's ethos . Prelli implies that a scientific ethos develops by 9  establishing personal and intellectual credibility commensurate with the criteria for scientific reasonableness (107). Personal credibility is established by demonstrating communality (membership in the scientific community), and disinterestedness (Prelli 126-30), humility and organized skepticism (Prelli 263-4). According to Prelli, a strong scientific ethos is one that is . perceived to be pursuing scientific objectives and furthering the interests of the scientific community (108). To create an image consistent with pursuing scientific objectives, Prelli says, a rhetor must exhibit qualities of communality that include the appearance of pursuing science Prelli acknowledges that these norms of a scientific ethos are derived from the categories of Robert K. Merton (106).  9  17  for science's sake, not wealth and fame, and making valid contributions to the knowledge base of the community by addressing a common problem. Prigogine and Stengers fail to demonstrate a communal ethos in their work. They do not focus on solving a communal problem. Instead, they focus on the creativity and the originality of their ideas. They explicitly, even emphatically, point out to their audience every new turn of phrase for which they are responsible. They even take credit for some theories that may not be theirs alone to claim. They point out to us that they coined the phrase "dissipative structures" (143). They point out to us that the idea and name of "order through fluctuations" is theirs (although it bears a striking resemblance to the notion of "The Butterfly Effect" of Edward 10  Lorenz — something they do not mention): "Fluctuations determine the global outcome. . . . This is a new situation. For this reason we would like to introduce a neologism and call situations resulting from fluctuation 'order through fluctuations'" (178). And Prigogine and Stengers repeatedly point out to us their new name for molecules in a close-to-equilibrium state that exhibit a certain kind of random behavior: "It seems to us worthwhile to reintroduce the neologism we used in chapter vi.... [W]e call them [the molecules that evolve randomly in a According to James Gleick, Edward Lorenz's paper "Deterministic Nonperiodic Flow" wasfirstpublished in the Journal of Atmospheric Sciences in 1963 (321). Lorenz's paper contained the results of his computer experiments in weather modeling. His results indicated that small uncertainties, or fluctuations in the input data lead to the global reorganization of a system. His findings signaled death for hopes of long-term weather forecasting, or weather control. In 1979, according to Gleick, Lorenz delivered a lecture explaining the deterministic nonperiodic organization of turbulent systems entitled "Predictability: Does the Flap of a Butterfly's Wings in Brazil Set Off a Tornado in Texas?" to The American Association for the Advancement of Science (322). The title of Lorenz's lecture caught on as a name for the phenomenon of sensitive dependence on initial conditions. Gleick gives a very good illustration of the dynamics of Lorenz's phenomenon: suppose the earth could be covered with sensors spaced one foot apart, rising at one-foot intervals all the way to the top of the atmosphere. Suppose every sensor gives perfectly accurate readings of temperature, pressure, humidity, and any other quantity a meteorologist would want. Precisely at noon an infinitely powerful computer takes all the data and calculates what will happen at each point at 12:01, then 12:02, then 12:03... The computer will still be unable to predict whether Princeton, New Jersey, will have sun or rain on a day one month away. At noon the spaces between the sensors will hide fluctuations that the computer will not know about, tiny deviations from the average. By 12:01, those fluctuations will already have created small errors one foot away. Soon the errors will have multiplied to the ten-foot scale, and so on up to the size of the globe (21). Prigogine and Stengers (who published their work in French in 1979, and the re-edited English version in 1984) describe their "order through fluctuations" in very similar terms: "The existence of an instability may be viewed as the result of afluctuationthat isfirstlocalized in a small part of the system and then leads to a new macroscopic state.... Fluctuations determine the global outcome" (178). Even if Prigogine and Stengers couldfinda way to make the phenomenon that they describe sound "new" with respect to Lorenz's findings, Henri Poincare had already voiced the idea at the turn of the century in Science and Method: "it may happen that small differences in the initial conditions produce very great ones in thefinalphenomena" (Gleick 321). 1 0  18  close-to-equilibrium state] 'hypnons'" (287). In a field such as science, which stresses the virtues of adherence to norms and the pursuit of communal interests, it is unwise to repeatedly stress the evaluative topic of novelty or individuality for your contributions. According to Prelli's criteria, reasonable scientific rhetors maintain a balance between implications of innovation in their work, and implications of upholding in their work the principles to which the profession subscribes . 11  Maintaining a balance between perceptions of innovation and continuity in scientific discourse may be even more important for a popular scientific rhetor whose discourse is not addressed to members of the scientific community, but to an outside audience who would not know exactly what constitutes the rhetor's contribution. Prigogine and Stengers' stress on individuality, isolates them rhetorically from the communal interests of science. According to Prelli, if a scientific audience believes a rhetor is pursuing extrascientific objectives and interests (such as personal celebrity or the promotion of religious beliefs), that rhetor's personal credibility (his or her ethos) may be attacked (127). Such rhetorical attacks are likely to focus on what Prelli has defined as the ethical topoi of disinterestedness (is the scientist furthering the knowledge base of the community or looking for personal gain?), organized skepticism (did the scientist make every effort to scrutinize and ensure the accuracy of his or her findings and data against received knowledge?), and humility (is the scientist acting as a conduit for phenomena observed in the natural world, or is the scientist orchestrating a description that will credit her or his originality?). Prelli says that failing to address these concerns can lead to the questioning and censure of a rhetor's ethos (120). Prigogine and Stengers fail to demonstrate a communal ethos that addresses the concerns of a scientific audience. We can get an idea of how a scientific audience might respond to Prigogine and Stengers' ethos by looking at Katherine Hayles' assessment of their work in her book Chaos Bound. According to Katherine Hayles' assessment, Prigogine and Stengers' book Order Out of Chaos violates all the ethical criteria that demonstrate what Prelli has called "pursuing scientific objectives." Katherine Hayles says that there is an "inference" in Prigogine and Stengers' rhetoric "that Prigogine is as central to chaos theory as Darwin was to evolution or 'According to Prelli, the Mertonian ethical topic of originality ("advances knowledge") is balanced by the topic of humility ("a check on originality") [106]. 1  19  Einstein to relativity" (92-3). Such an inference, she says, creates an "imbalance" that must be "rectified." This criticism is consistent with Prelli's ethical topic of humility. Hayles later goes on to say that Prigogine and Stengers draw "heady conclusions" that, based solely on the data present, are "shaky ones" (102). This criticism is consistent with Prelli's ethical topic of organized skepticism. Later still, she tells us that "Prigogine's work evidently emerges from a vision of the way the universe could or should be, rather than the vision emerging from the work" (111). This criticism is consistent with Prelli's ethical topic of disinterestedness. Prigogine and Stengers allow serious ambiguities about their ethos to creep into their rhetoric. In her discussion of Order Out of Chaos. Hayles tries to recuperate Prigogine's character somewhat with a little rhetorical conjuring: [Tjhere have been times when vision was central [to scientific endeavor].... [A]t pivotal moments, vision can become the essence of what is at stake, and practical problems can be secondary or even irrelevant.... In this respect Hawking is no different from Prigogine and Einstein. Each is motivated by a vision (112-13). Hawking and Einstein are two highly respected figures in the scientific community. Propping Prigogine up between two giants might help to resurrect his credibility if an objectionable ethos was his or Stengers' only questionable rhetorical characteristic. But there are other rhetorical problems in their argument. So far, the problems with Prigogine and Stengers' rhetoric have been exemplary (examples and models on which they build their scientific theories are problematic, such as Prigogine and Stengers' alliance of their theories with Eastern mysticism as a new theoretical basis for science) and ethical (the writers' implied scientific personas fail to establish the alliance of Prigogine and Stengers' interests with those of the scientific community. They fail to demonstrate communality). The problems with Prigogine and Stengers' ethos are magnified by their attempts to consolidate their proposed revolution (to have their episteme become the new organizing principle for scientific theory and research) by characterizing "the old views," or the current scientific episteme, in highly questionable ways. In their work on the rhetoric of  20  scientific revolutions, Kenneth Zagacki and William Keith have pointed out that the wise revolutionary rhetor recognizes that old scientific views must be nullified, but also that "the dignity of science must... be preserved" (70). Knowing the importance of characterizing current and past beliefs with equanimity, Zagacki and Keith say, a rhetor may appeal to "the ethical topoi Of progress of truth in science," which acknowledges that with the pursuit of truth in science "change is inevitable" and scientists will sometimes turn out to be wrong (70-1). Because truth is a noble pursuit, Zagacki and Keith say, "there is scientific virtue in being wrong or fallible" (71). Alternatively, according to Zagacki and Keith, a revolutionary rhetor could appeal to "the evaluative topos of experimental correspondence . . . [by] pointing] out that the old theory's empirical assumptions no longer correspond to . . . [the] data" (71). Yet again, Zagacki and Keith point out, the rhetor seeking to consolidate a new view might "attribute . . . problems with the old view to technological limitations" (71). Finally, according to Zagacki and Keith, "the failure of the old view . . . [could be] blamed on external problems such as political institutions, human gullibility or superstition, or lacking knowledge of scientific method" (72). When Prigogine and Stengers characterize the scientific view they want to supplant, they consistently choose the kind of arguments contained in Zagacki and Keith's last suggestion for nullifying the importance of "old" scientific views. Prigogine and Stengers argue against the understanding or the personalities of their predecessors when they characterize the "old views": Why was Einstein so strongly opposed to the introduction of irreversibility into physics? We can only guess. Einstein was a rather lonely man; he had few friends, few coworkers, few students. He lived in a sad time: the two World Wars.... It is not surprising that for Einstein science was the road that led to victory over the turmoil of time (294-5). If characterizing the old view is intended to "preserve the dignity of science," this passage is a poor rhetorical choice. Einstein is a highly respected member of the scientific community. Prigogine and Stengers have said that previous scientific theories, (such as Einstein's Theory of Relativity) that sought to preserve the notion of reversible time, are "wrongheaded" (252).  21  Science writers, such as Prigogine and Stengers, cannot expect to receive a serious and fair reading by a skeptical audience of scientists whom they have called "wrongheaded." In my opinion, Prigogine and Stengers' book Order Out of Chaos has not been ignored by Gleick and his scientists just because its authors' theories are radical. Prigogine and Stengers' book has been ignored because of how its arguments are presented, and how it represents the scientific community. Zagacki and Keith point out that scientists who fail to use appropriate topical arguments are treated as heretics: One does not become a heretic for disagreeing but for failing to integrate this disagreement into relevant topical replies . . . . [I]n science, it is acceptable to be wrong — even zealously wrong --as long as certain institutional frameworks have not been challenged (76). Prigogine and Stengers have challenged the institutional framework of science by questioning the credibility of Einstein, and by implication the credibility of scientists who believed Einstein. That kind of challenge to the scientific community invites the community to question Prigogine and Stengers' commitment to scientific interests and objectives. Prigogine and Stengers want to create a revolution that allows a conceptual space in science for their scientific and philosophical ideas, but they do not handle revolutionary rhetoric appropriately. We saw that they treat scientific institutions as naive. They also portray themselves as revolutionaries above the work of ordinary scientists, further dissociating themselves from the communal interests and objectives of science. Zagacki and Keith have outlined dimensions in which the rhetorical character of the revolutionary might be reasonably cast in scientific discourse. They say that claims of revolutionariness "can be manipulated in two ways: One may be compelled to be revolutionary or one may be seeking revolution" (64). Prigogine and Stengers consistently characterize themselves as radicals seeking revolution: "We have dwelled on continuities, not the 'obvious' continuities but the hidden ones, those involving difficult questions rejected by many as illegitimate or false" (308-9). Prigogine and Stengers emphasize that their "discoveries" have evolved from breaking with the normal research activity of scientists. Prigogine and Stengers emphasize their search for  -  22  answers outside those considered legitimate by the scientific community. They focus the evaluative attention of their audience on the topic of creativity: "We wish to . .. emphasize the conceptual creativeness of scientific activity" (18). Rhetorically, focusing on the creativity and originality of an argument is acceptable, but it requires, according to Zagacki and Keith, the presentation of a strong case "by including certain other evaluative and problem-solving topoi..'.that demonstrate commitment to the norms of the scientific enterprise" (66). Zagacki and Keith say those norms include, for example, "simplicity, experimental competence," and "predictive power" (66). Prigogine and Stengers fail to include in their arguments such themes that would demonstrate a commitment to the norms of the scientific enterprise. As a result, Prigogine and Stengers fail to present a strong case for their theories. They do not present themselves as experimentally competent, because they do not offer experimental evidence. Nor do they offer evidence of the predictive power of their theories, because they have not tested them. Instead, Prigogine and Stengers opt to account for their theories using what Prelli would call the problemsolution topic of explanatory power (the usefulness of the theory is in the phenomena it can explain). Prigogine and Stengers focus the evaluative attention of their audience on what Prelli would call the evaluative topics of scope (how widely the theory can be applied) and fruitfulness (the potential for further research and more money ) when it comes to examining the scientific merits of their theory. They do not "prove" their theories by presenting experimental, or quantitative evidence. Prigogine and Stengers' lack of evidence is problematic because in science, it is difficult to defend a theory on the merits of its creativity alone. It is unlikely that Prigogine and Stengers' controversial rhetoric would get a favourable review in the scientific community because they offer no proof for their theories. Prelli says that the disciplinary framework of science is such that the "burden of proof is on the challenger (109). That means the onus is on scientists such as Prigogine and Stengers to prove the worth of their radical theories to the rest of the scientific community. Such a system, Prelli points out, is "not insidious" but pragmatic (201). There would be no consensus, no "progress" or appreciable  23  development in science if it did not demand such demonstrations from scientists who challenge its fundamental assumptions. To prove the worth of a claim, Prelli says, there are standard, measurable criteria of value: claims that possess qualities of empirical accuracy, consistency, quantitative precision, or explanatory power make sense; claims that are empirically inaccurate, inconsistent, quantitatively imprecise, or lacking explanatory strength can be dubbed scientifically unreasonable (115). These criteria of value are used by the scientific community to assess the worth of a scientist's claims. Prelli says that only the scientific community can legitimately adjudicate knowledge claims by scientists who want their theories to be considered scientific (25). According to Prelli, the scientific rhetor's burden is to align his or her argument implicitly or explicitly with the concepts of reasonableness "in ways that make situational sense" (115). In the case of popular science, or rhetoric about science, "situational sense" would include making the scientific concepts accessible to lay audiences, but it would also require that the science presented be recognized by the scientific community before presentation to a general audience.  12  According to Prelli, it is a major scientific taboo to present untested knowledge claims to a lay audience for approval (132).  13  Prigogine and Stengers' most controversial claims had not been approved by a scientific audience before they were presented in a public forum for general debate. In addition, Prigogine and Stengers explicitly state that their ideas, which are addressed to an audience potentially ignorant of science, have not been confirmed by experiment. Concerning their position that the early appearance of life is consistent with the concept of self-organization, Prigogine and Prelli says that rhetoric about science must still conform to notions of scientific reasonableness: rhetoric about science generally emphasizes themes concerning scientific ethos, (2) minimizes develpment of technical premises dictated by scientific topoi,and (3) incorporates extrascientific concerns themes, and materials to enhance interest and promote understanding by lay persons. Unless such adaptations are made, rhetoric about science will not seem reasonable in lay situations. Nonetheless, such rhetoric cannot desregard the rhetorical logic of science lest its scientific reasonableness suffer. .. . Disregarding scientific values and premises renders discourse something other than "scientific" (261). Prelli says that "scientists denounce with special severity the scientific reasonableness of research if members of the laity get involved in debate over scientific merit" (132). 12  13  24  Stengers divulge — "we must admit that we remain far from any quantitative theory" (176). In their search for common units with which to describe their physics of molecular processes combining dynamics with thermodynamics, Prigogine and Stengers write the following: A way out may be to go to the physics of processes. The units, the elementary particles would then be defined as hypnons, the entities that evolve independently at equilibrium. We hope that there will soon be experiments available to test this hypothesis. It would be quite appealing if atoms interacting with photons . . . already carried the arrow of time that expresses the global evolution of nature (Prigogine 288). Prigogine and Stengers draw their conclusions based on speculation, not experiment. Katherine Hayles points out that the enormity of their conclusions is not substantiated by their data. Not only that, she says, but their argument "does not sit altogether easily with the data. . . . If molecules can engage in 'communication' to build self organizing structures why can they not communicate to cause time to go backward?" (Hayles 102). These criticisms are consistent with what Prelli would call the problem-solution criteria of empirical accuracy, and quantitative precision, and with his evaluative criteria of internal consistency. Hayles also challenges Prigogine and Stengers' external consistency, criticizing that they lump together disparate research programs as if they all unproblematically agreed with Prigogine and Stengers' theories (102). In addition, Hayles makes another challenge to their ethos,  saying that what other researchers treat as pragmatic technique, the introduction of chance,  Prigogine and Stengers treat as a philosophical revolution (Hayles 105). In attempting to prove the worth of their argument, Prigogine and Stengers claim to have advanced theories consistent with other cutting edge research that has been made legitimate by the scientific community. For instance, they align their theory with Mitchell Feigenbaum's notion of a universal, mathematical scaling function that has standardized the practice of chaos research. Prigogine and Stengers' appeal is consistent with what Prelli calls the problem-solution topic of external consistency (although this claim is disputed by Hayles' criticism that they fail to acknowledge differences among the fields they lump together as proof of their own theories).  25  Prigogine and Stengers appeal to the explanatory strength of their argument, claiming to have explained why life begins. They appeal to aesthetic considerations of evaluation such as scope. But they make no attempt to appeal to the scientific titans of accuracy or quantitative precision. Given the magnitude of their claims it is surprising that they resort to what according to Prelli is a minor problem-solution argument ~ empirical adequacy: "We have chosen to present things as we perceive them now, fully aware of how incomplete our answers are" (18). In other words, Prigogine and Stengers are so excited about their theory that they are going to put it into a public forum before they have tested it, or had it acknowledged by their peers. In the conclusion to the theoretical section of their book (where they explain their scientific constructs), Prigogine and Stengers attach the following disclaimer, or "cautionary" note to their work: ^  Let us conclude this part of our monograph with a word of caution. The phenomenological theory of irreversible processes is at present well established. In contrast, the basic microscopic theory of irreversible processes is quite new. At the time of correcting the proofs of this book, experiments are in preparation to test these views. As long as they have not been performed, a speculative element is unavoidable  (290).  14  The authors throw a mention of experimentation into the fray at the very last moment as if it was a perfunctory detail. What does Hayles have to say about this? Hayles points out that Prigogine and Stengers fail to distinguish between speculative and verified elements of their theory: [In Order Out of Chaos] [f]acts that have been extensively verified are presented in the same manner as speculations backed by little or no experimental confirmation.. . . [N]o attempt is made in the chapter to identify why or even what points are speculative, the lay reader has no way to evaluate the claim that experimental confirmation is forthcoming (92). Not only have these oversights been made, but the admission that the microscopic theory of irreversible processes has not been proven is inconsistent with Prigogine and Stengers' Prigogine and Stengers' book came out in 1976. Hayles' book came out in 1990. Apparently, Prigogine and Stengers' hoped-for proof had not materialized at that time. 1 4  26  previous remarks. Two pages earlier the authors say "we now can go beyond the macroscopic level, and discover the microscopic meaning of irreversibility" (288). In the introduction to the book, they claim "we have achieved a microscopic formulation of the evolutionary paradigm expressed by the second law [of thermodynamics]" (18). Prigogine and Stengers state yet again in the conclusion to their book that "the existence of an evolutionary paradigm can now be established in physics . . . on all levels" (297-98). Hayles is right when she says that a lay audience would not be able to identify why, or what points are speculative. A lay audience would not know, or be able to evaluate, if experimental evidence of microscopic irreversibility is forthcoming. In fact, a lay audience would probably be quite confused by the lack of details coupled with extravagant and authoritative claims in Prigogine and Stengers' argument. Given the authors' rhetorical style, a lay audience is likely to remember the extravagant claims and forget the minute technical details. Because a lay or nonspecialist audience lacks the discriminatory skill necessary to evaluate scientific arguments, the scientific community, according to Prelli, reserves its strictest censure for scientists who seek the validation of their claims from a non-scientific audience: Those purporting scientists advancing the disputed claims are left exposed to charges of complicity with the laity in violating . . . a major taboo in scientific communities ~ seeking authorization of knowledge claims from audiences other than scientific audiences.... This perception of scientists' conduct would be considered among the worst contraventions of the scientific virtue of communality (132). Why is the appearance of pursuing celebrity and nonprofessional authorization of claims so scandalous, the object of moral censure in the scientific community? An answer to this question may be found in Bruno Latour's book Science in Action. Science, Latour says, is the business of producing "hard facts" and machines. He says that science's mandate is to secure authority and funding by controlling the transmission of its facts through elaborate and expensive "networks," composed of scientific centers that produce facts, channels for transmitting facts (composed of various authorized formats such as papers.  27  text books, and lectures) and margins that receive facts. Since the margins lack the resources and the organization to reproduce in detail everything that goes on in scientific centers, people who exist on the margins of science are more or less passive receptors of the hard facts produced in the centers of science (laboratories). Latour tells us that, unlike folk knowledge, or other kinds of "soft" fact production, which allow many voices to transform the body of a fact, scientific knowledge, "hard" fact production, must "decrease the margin of negotiation" on an idea that is circulated, to "force [others] . . . to take up the claim as it is" (209). Science maintains its authority by producing hard facts — forcing outsiders fo take up its claims as is. Latour would say that like a train, science can only be effective if it stays on track (250). Science maintains its social, intellectual, and economic power if it stays within its carefully sealed networks of claim-staking, claim-making, and claim-authorizing. If it strays outside those networks (if scientists like Prigogine and Stengers begin to seek authorization of their knowledge claims from audiences outside their discipline) then the discipline of science, with its attendant hard facts and machines, will disappear. Science will disintegrate into the cultural milieu like so much incorporeal speculation. In conclusion, I suggest that Prigogine and Stengers may have been excluded from Gleick's book (may even have been ignored by the scientists in Gleick's book) because they do not fulfill the criteria for scientific reasonableness. Prigogine and Stengers treat chaos science as a personal tour de force. Their rhetoric suggests that they are centrally responsible for chaos theory. Prigogine and Stengers fail to mention other significant and similar research in chaos science to which they may owe a debt. They fail to establish through their rhetoric the kind of communal bond that would enhance their ethos within the scientific community. At times, Prigogine and Stengers may aggravate the unfavorable reception of their work by presenting inappropriate challenges to the scientific community. Finally, Prigogine and Stengers have bypassed what Prelli would call an "authorizing audience" of scientists, and chosen an inappropriate forum (a work of popular science) to present untested knowledge claims. In so doing, they expose science to the fickle realm of "soft-fact" production in which an untutored  . 2 8  audience may receive and make "factual" ideas that are not factual in the scientific discipline. Ultimately, such a situation could lead to the weakening of scientific authority. I would suggest that any of these reasons could have contributed to Gleick's excluding Prigogine and Stengers from his book, Chaos. As we will see in the second chapter, to which I will now turn, Gleick is very much appealing to and concerned with the values of mainstream science.  29  Chapter Two Chaos: Making a New Science: A LogicalPropostion  The subject of this second chapter is James Gleick's book Chaos: Making a New Science . I will examine Gleick's rhetoric in comparison and contrast with Prigogine and 15  Stengers' using Lawrence Prelli's topological criteria for scientific reasonableness. Using Prelli's criteria, I will show that Gleick, unlike Prigogine and Stengers, aligns his work with themes of scientific reasonableness. I will show that Gleick, unlike Prigogine and Stengers, appeals to exemplary topics appropriate to his subject and audience to transmit "hard-facts" that have already been accepted by the scientific community. I will show that Gleick, unlike Prigogine and Stengers, fosters a credible, communal ethos even though he is ostensibly writing about a scientific revolution. Once again, I will enlist Zagacki and Keith's criteria for revolutionary rhetoric to show that Gleick tactfully handles the rhetoric of a scientific "revolution," and maintains credibility as reasonable. I will then offer an alternative explanation to those offered by Katherine Hayles or David Porush for Gleick's excluding Prigogine and Stengers from his history. My explanation for Gleick's excluding Prigogine and Stengers will be based on my comparison of their rhetoric. Subsequently, I will look at Katherine Hayles' critique of Gleick as a response from an audience outside science. I will suggest that Hayles' differing treatment of Prigogine and Stengers' book and Gleick's is explained by her own disciplinary loyalty, and her desire to find a correspondence in science for her interdisciplinary work in the humanities. I will now turn to a rhetorical analysis of Gleick's text in comparison with Prigogine and Stengers'. Gleick's reviewers are enthusiastic and complimentary about his book. There is general agreement that Chaos is "intended for the layperson" (Wylan 925), written in "accessible language" (Booklist 187), and that its "discussion of complex mathematics can be grasped even by those who failed calculus" (Burns 710). Burns' review also lends credence to the idea that Gleick is interested in philosophy as well as experimentation: "Gleick suggests that chaos may even help reconcile free will and determinism" (710). Negative commentary on Chaos suggests that, for some, it may be too general: "A reader in pursuit of details will have to look elsewhere" (New Yorker 160). Another critic suggests that, at times, Gleick "overdramatizes" his anecdotal material (Maddox 11). Maddox also doubts that chaos was a "revolution." He says that the views of chaos scientists "have been welcomed both by applied scientists and those seeking deeper connections than have so far come to light. There can hardly ever have been an easier revolution" (11). Despite these detractions, reviews of Gleick's book are overwhelmingly positive. Critical reviews of Chaos seem to outnumber the reviews of Prigogine and Stengers' book and Hayles' by about three to one, suggesting that Gleick may appeal to a broader audience. 15  30  Where Prigogine and Stengers emphasize their radical departure from science that has gone before, Gleick traces a subtle line of continuity within change. Where Prigogine and Stengers accuse the old scientific views of being "wrongheaded," Gleick stresses all of the answers provided by the old views. And where Prigogine and Stengers focus on the solitariness of their accomplishments, Gleick shows that the scientists responsible for the new ideas of chaos worked in isolation, but that only the sum of their work could be thought of as constituting a new paradigm, or code of ideas for the community. In short, Gleick skillfully creates a story of chaos consistent with the criteria for scientific reasonableness outlined by Prelli. A rhetorical examination of Gleick's work in light of Lawrence Prelli's criteria for scientific reasonableness could reveal the similarities and the striking contrasts between Gleick's version of chaos and Prigogine and Stengers'. Contrary to what Hayles suggests, Gleick, like Prigogine and Stengers, says that chaos science can answer profound questions like "[h]ow does life begin?," and "[w]hat is turbulence?," and "in a universe ruled by entropy, drawing inexorably toward greater and greater disorder, how does order arise?" (Gleick 7). Prigogine and Stengers say that an alliance of western science and eastern mystical traditions can answer these questions. In contrast, Gleick says that alleviating ignorance about disorder in the world can answer these questions. Prigogine and Stengers characterize the problem left behind by classical science as spiritual angst. In contrast, Gleick characterizes the problem left behind by classical science as "a special ignorance about disorder in the atmosphere, in the turbulent sea, in the fluctuations of wildlife populations, in the oscillations of the heart and the brain" (3). According to Prelli's problem-solution topics, ignorance is an acceptable communal problem for a scientific rhetor to address; spiritual angst is not a problem that concerns the scientific community. Prigogine and Stengers situate the new ideas of chaos in metaphors drawn from ancient mystical traditions. Conversely, Gleick situates old cultural metaphors (like the Western hero) 16  in the symbols of a new science. Gleick takes many of the stock characteristics of the Western romance and incorporates them in a nonlinear, self-reflexive plot that serves as a metaphor for For instance, Prigogine and Stengers use the Hindu god Shiva (the god of destruction that also contains creation) as an icon for their conception of nature. They also use the metaphor of "genesis" in theirfinalchapter ("From Earth to Heaven a reenchantment of Nature" [303]). Also, Prigogine and Stengers allude to the idea that the acquisition of knowledge was the original irreversible process (295). 16  31  the subject of Chaos, nonlinearity. In addition, Gleick combines mundane, empirical examples from the lives of his audience (like rushhour traffic, or annual income) with more esoteric scientific examples to illustrate the ubiquity and the universality of chaos. He organizes his scientific explanations of chaos around suitable, relevant examples (consistent with Prelli's exemplary topics) to entertain and inform his audience. For instance, Gleick illustrates the universality of chaos science with familiar phenomena drawn from the concerns of a general (western) culture: Physiologists found a surprising order in the chaos that develops in the human heart, the prime cause of sudden unexplained death. Ecologists explored the rise and fall of gypsy moth populations. Economists dug out old stock price data and tried a new kind of analysis. The insights that emerged led directly into the natural world ~ the shapes of clouds, the paths of lightning, the microscopic intertwining of blood vessels, the galactic clustering of stars (4). This passage would appeal to a scientific audience, because Gleick makes an implicit appeal to the explanatory power of chaos (a problem-solution topic of Prelli's), by cataloguing the diverse empirical phenomena that chaos science explains. This passage would also appeal to a general audience, because it uses examples that a general audience would understand and take an interest in (a heart attack, and stock prices). Gleick then takes the familiar examples of a heart attack and stock prices, and combines them with less familiar examples, such as the galactic clustering of stars, and the rise and fall of gypsy moth populations, to make the more esoteric ideas of the latter seem relevant to an audience that might not otherwise concern itself with astronomy, or entomology. Similarly, Gleick uses the rhetorical strategy of contrasting relationships, the philosophically grand with the mundane (the shape of the universe with rushhour traffic), to fuel the drama and excitement of his narrative. The drama and excitement of his narrative serves two purposes. It interests and entertains Gleick's readers. And it "sells" Gleick's readers on the . s  benefits of the new science. For instance, Gleick says that the behaviour of the weather, an airplane in flight, or cars clustering on an expressway obey "the same newly discovered laws" of  32  the universal behaviour of complexity (5). Gleick transmits the ideas of chaos science to a lay audience by using examples that are relevant to the concerns of a lay audience. He also serves the interests of science by allying the interests and concerns of a general audience (heart attacks, rush hour traffic, stock prices, and airplane flights) with the answers that science can offer. So, Gleick's book offers to pass along sciences' new answers as "hard-facts." Gleick's transmission of chaos is in stark contrast to Prigogine and Stengers' transmission that wanted to open the hardfact production of science to soft-fact interpretation. Gleick demonstrates dedication to scientific objectives by using examples and analogies that are, in Prelli's words, "empirically grounded." He also serves the interests of science by attempting to pass on ideas that have been approved by the scientific community (as evidenced by his remark that "chaos journals and conferences abound," and that ever-greater sums of money and resources are being directed toward chaos research  [4-5]).  By serving the communal  interests of science Gleick establishes a communal ethos that Prigogine and Stengers fail to establish. He lends his narrative an aura of integrity and legitimacy by appealing to the kinds of ethical topics that Prelli has outlined, namely, communality, humility, organized skepticism, and disinterestedness. Gleick's examples demonstrate communality (by conforming to notions of scientific reasonableness), and his narrative illustrates it. Where Prigogine and Stengers sought to stress the creativity arid solitariness of their accomplishments, Gleick stresses the hard work and need for community in the accomplishments of the scientists he covers. Katherine Hayles and David Porush both claim that Gleick's narrative stresses the individual over the community. Hayles says that the settings Gleick employs "emphasize the solitary nature of their [the scientists'] intellectual lives." For example, she says that Gleick's scientists are portrayed as isolated: Feigenbaum is shown walking away from a group so he can observe a waterfall; on another occasion, a crucial insight comes when he walks away from a group outdoors and notices that their talk is reduced to babble by the distance. Another scientist likes to take long walks in the desert, sometimes leaving his family for weeks at a time. When living quarters are discussed,  33  they are depicted as eccentric or odd.... Food is equally rudimentary or odd (173). Hayles criticizes that Chaos is a book which attempts to rationalize the scientific myth of autonomy from a larger culture. She says "it depicts the discovery of chaos as essentially an individual enterprise, unaffected by the culture around it" (171). Similarly, David Porush contends that Gleick's narrative is patterned along the lines of "Joseph Campbell's cycle of the heroic journey"(153). Porush sees Gleick as a "devout Khunian," who combines the two mythic reenactments, of the Odyssey and the scientific revolution, to lend a narrative framework to his tale of chaos. Consequently, Porush says, "[ajdopting the more restrictive view of science as a mechanism of knowledge seeking set apart from other parts of our culture almost inevitably leads to a more restrictive view of the philosophical and cultural implications of science" (163). I would argue, to the contrary, that Gleick's adaptation of the format of the Western romance to depict his scientific "heroes" is an acknowledgment of the cultural interdependence of the scientific enterprise. Where Prigogine and Stengers took the new ideas of chaos science and implicitly seeded them into orderly religious principles (both eastern and western), Gleick takes the simple, orderly structural themes of the Western, and seeds them into a narrative format that embodies a kind of disorder which illustrates the ideas of chaos. Gleick accomplishes several things with his narrative technique. First, he uses allusions to the Western as a familiar story that captures audience interest. Second, contrary to what Hayles and Porush say, Gleick uses his narrative to stress the communal nature of the scientific enterprise. Third, Gleick transforms his audience's expectations about the straightforward and predictable plot of the Western genre (by creating a nonlinear narrative) to illustrate some of the principles of the new science that he is conveying. The narrative itself becomes an exemplary topos for its subject. According to Zagacki and Keith, narrative employed thusly stresses the "rightness and inevitability" of the new ideas it contains (73). That is why, Prelli says, "revolutionary rhetors might fashion rhetorical appeals that draw upon, transform and uniquely extend the application of traditional beliefs, opinions, values and general notions" (97).  34  In a previous essay, I outlined how Gleick structures his narrative around the mythic American Western as Will Wright defines it in Six Guns and Society (Coffey ll).  17  In that  essay, I wrote about the importance of Gleick's individuation and elaborate characterization of each of his major characters in Chaos. They all share certain characteristic features such as being loners, who are often misunderstood by their peers, who spend much of their time in the wilderness, and who do not seem to fit in with the rest of society. Some of them are described as wanderers or refugees. Often, they possess qualities, or special attributes (good and bad) as Wright describes them, which separate them from the rest of society. Hayles characterizes Gleick's portrayal of chaos scientists in terms very similar to the solitary qualities that Wright attributes to Western heroes. She says that Gleick's characters are portrayed as preferring solitude (sometimes in the wilderness) to human company (particularly when some crucial insight is formulated). She says that Gleick describes his scientists as eccentric, odd, and anti-domestic people (173). Solitariness, anti-domesticity, and association of the individual with the wilderness are, of course, stock characterizations of the Western hero, according to Wright. These characteristics are also, as Hayles points out, characterizations of the active masculine principle, divorced from the weakness, passivity, and subjectivity of the feminine. A rejection of the feminine is also characteristic of the Western, according to Wright. There is another similarity between Gleick's narrative and the Western. In Chaos, individual scientists (or the heroes of Gleick's narrative) each possess outstanding abilities (anything from brilliance to special aesthetic powers of discernment that Gleick associates with "shared sensibilities" for pattern, scale, randomness, complexity, jagged edges and sudden intuitive leaps (5)). The possession of special attributes is also part of the stock characterization of the Western hero, according to Wright. Like the heroes of the Western narrative outlined by Wright, the scientist/heroes of Gleick's narrative are contrasted with a background of a vaguely described community or society. In Gleick's narrative, that society is a scientific community or otherness representing the old views ("scientists," or "physicists," or the "scientific community"). The community and the 7  Porush also points out that Gleick uses the Western mythos (152), and Hayles implies it (174).  35  hero are foils that evoke the mythic cultural patterns and simple dichotomous values of good/bad, outside society/inside society, wilderness/civilization, and strength/weakness found in the Western. By associating his characters with a familiar, easily recognizable cultural 18  template that has a built-in value structure, Gleick establishes the consubstantiality of his audience's values with those of the new science, and the scientists that forged it. The audience cheers for the hero and the positive culturo-political values of good/strong/wilderness/outside society that "he" (the scientist) represents, over the bland and often threatening values of repression or weakness associated with those living inside society. Thus, as Zagacki and Keith would point out, the "rightness and inevitability" of the new ideas of chaos are implicit in the narrative structure that Gleick uses. Hayles feels that Gleick uses narrative anecdotes of individuals to promote the idea that science is an enterprise separated from culture (171). On the other hand, one could suppose that Gleick's appeal to cultural archetypes, like the Western, is a nod toward the cultural interdependence of the scientific enterprise. Hayles says that Gleick's world of science is "solitary, with chance connections made between individuals who discover, often quite by accident, that someone else somewhere in the world is working on the same problem they are" (172). It is not true that such encounters are by "chance" or by "accident." Instead, the scientists learn of each other's work through the very rigid disciplinary machinations for which they show apparent disdain. For example, one scientist, the biologist Robert May, sends a paper in to a journal for publication. It is rejected by the editor, another chaos scientist named David Ruelle. Ruelle sends the paper back to May with a note that he has unwittingly duplicated work done last century. The note instructs May to get in touch with Benoit Mandelbrot who is working on the Julia Sets (geometric figures) that May has described, or re-proven. Several scientists make connections through conferences and begin correspondence or other idea-generating dialogue. James Yorke (a mathematician Gleick credits with giving chaos its name, in his paper "Period Three Implies Chaos" [69]) hears Steve Smale (a mathematical topologist [explained in the next 18  These are the values that Wright says are portrayed in the Western.  36  chapter] who provided a way to model erratic dynamical systems in phase space [47]) give a lecture at a conference and tells him that he has a paper that would interest Smale. Subsequently, Yorke sends Smale a copy of Lorenz's paper "Deterministic Nonperiodic Flow," with his own address label pasted to the top so that Smale will return it to him. Smale then photocopies Lorenz's work and passes out copies to anyone that will take one. Gleick says that a legend was thus begun that Yorke had discovered Lorenz, because every copy of Lorenz's paper that appeared on the Berkeley campus had Yorke's name and address at the top (67). Another group of scientists, "The Dynamical Systems Collective," aggregates around Robert Shaw, a graduate student whose professor, William Burke ("a Santa Cruz cosmologist 19  and relativist" [244]), is introduced to Lorenz's chaotic equations by a colleague, Edward A. Spiegel ("an astrophysicist" [244]) at a conference. Shaw's professor gives the equations to Shaw, who knows how to use the computer. Shaw enters the equations and becomes interested enough in the output to change his emphasis of study. The collective that congregates around Shaw has very little contact with others in the field because none of the teaching staff at Santa Cruz has taken up the research. So they get in touch with a scientist named Joseph Ford, who has appointed himself as a clearinghouse for papers on chaos, and they ask that he send them everything he can. It is not by accident, or by "chance," as Hayles has implied, that the chaos scientists discover each other, but through a well-defined network of disciplinary communication, official and unofficial avenues of the scientific "grapevine." Gleick's story of chaos does not stress the solitariness of the scientific enterprise, as Hayles says, but the dependence of that enterprise on communal relations and the maintenance of a well-defined culture. The communal nature of science is also emphasized by the dependence for validation of any one theorist's research or experimentation on the work of others in the field. Gleick makes it known that Mitchell Feigenbaum's discovery of the mathematical universality of scale invariance in the convergence of numbers toward chaos does not mean much for physics without the experiments in fluid turbulence performed by the American, Harry Swinney, or the Frenchman, Robert Shaw is credited with linking chaos science and information theory (explained in the next chapter) in his paper "Strange Attractors, Chaotic Behaviour and Information Flow" (Gleick 259). 19  37  Albert Libchaber, as proof of the applicability of Feigenbaum's theories to physical systems (211). And Feigenbaum depends on the corroboration of Paul Stein, who preceded him in mapping complexity (174). Feigenbaum also depends on a colleague to teach him FORTRAN, a computer programming language, so that he can use the computer to make his data more precise. (173). In addition, Gleick makes it clear that Robert May's statistical plots of the fluctuations of biological populations are meaningful only in a scheme that includes Benoit Mandelbrot's discovery of the same statistical plots in phenomena as diverse as income distribution and the fluctuation of cotton prices (114). Mandelbrot's understanding of the intricacy of the traceable patterns allows the development of a new geometry based on fractional dimensions. That geometry explains and is explained by Feigenbaum's scaling function (172). Also, Doyne Farmer acknowledges in conversation with Gleick that were it not for Feigenbaum's technique, which supplies the whole exploration of chaos with a quantifiable and standard methodology, "that nonlinear systems would have to be treated in a case by case way" (268). So, Gleick is acutely aware of the intricate interplays and dependencies within community. Rather than an account of radical individualism, one could better describe his book with the quote he himself takes from folklore: For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; For want of a shoe, the horse was lost; For want of a horse, the rider was lost; For want of a rider, the battle was lost; For want of a battle, the kingdom was lost! (23). Gleick uses this rhyme to illustrate chaos science. But it could just as well illustrate Gleick's narrative. Unlike Prigogine and Stengers' rather bombastic attempts to stress the solitariness and individuality of their achievements, Gleick's narrative treads a fine line between individual creativity (consistent with the Western mythology of the rugged individual, forging a "new land") and the role of that creativity as a contribution to a much larger, cultural network of thought. Gleick demonstrates the scientific virtues of humility (no one scientist's achievements  can stand alone) organized skepticism (no one scientist's findings are accepted without corroborating evidence) and disinterestedness (the scientist's focus is not on overthrow but on finding answers to significant, outstanding problems in science) by balancing the implied roles of the individual and the community in the creative process. In Prigogine and Stengers' version of chaos, scientific achievement is gauged by Prigogine's proclamations and self-accolades ("As one of us has devoted most of his life to this problem, he may perhaps be excused for expressing his feeling of satisfaction, of aesthetic achievement, which he hopes the reader will share" [xxx]). In Gleick's version of chaos, achievement is gauged by the success of thought in navigating the cultural network towards which it is directed. The cultural network of thought can breathe life into ideas, make them into facts by accepting them and spreading them, or kill ideas by ignoring them. The making of a new science in Gleick is a network of idea nodes connected by fine filaments of disciplinary integrity, not (as Hayles would have us believe) by chance encounters. Thus, ironically, Gleick's version of chaos, set in a narrative that stresses the virtues of the rugged individual, does not imply that knowledge seeking is an individual enterprise. Gleick's version of chaos, unlike Prigogine and Stengers', implies that knowledge seeking and knowledge making are communal enterprises. Where Prigogine and Stengers situate the new ideas of chaos science in the symbols of eastern mystical traditions, and western biblical doctrine, Gleick situates old cultural 20  metaphors, like the Western, in the symbols of chaos science by breaking up the worn linear pattern of the Western narrative into episodes that seed their parts (beginning, middle, and end) throughout the book, in a seemingly random fashion. For example, Mitchell Feigenbaum is the first character we meet. His introduction ends on page three, and we do not pick up his story again until page 157. However, like Edward Lorenz, Robert May, James Yorke, and all the other scientists, Feigenbaum is never totally absent from the narrative. We pick up his presence in the middle of other people's stories by a mention of his name, his inclusion in an anecdote, or a citation of his work. There is a very complex weaving of narrative images in Gleick's text that In addition to their allusions to Genesis, and original sin (knowledge), Prigogine and Stengers quote a lengthy passage from the Talmud on the last page of their book.  20  39  mirrors the phenomena of complexity that Gleick is describing. The narrative of Chaos becomes an exemplary topic for the phenomena that it describes. As an exemplary topic, Gleick's text embodies the scientific concepts of chaos in its narrative structure, but it also hints at the philosophical ideas of chaos that Prigogine and Stengers stress. For instance, Gleick's narrative structure suggests that chaos is ubiquitous in the natural physical world, but also, perhaps, in the natural world of human creativity and interaction.  21  When Gleick explains why the "old" theories are wrong, he maintains his ethical focus on communality. When Prigogine and Stengers explain the old scientific views they make it sound as though important scientists and their achievements were not motivated by reason, but by emotion. They describe Einstein as irrational. Such explanations are not likely to sit well with the scientific community. On the other hand, Gleick explains that the old scientific theories were wrong simply because they stopped short of accounting for all phenomena. The old views, for Gleick, still maintain their autonomy. Chaos science enhances past scientific knowledge. When Gleick accounts for previous scientific knowledge, he stresses what Zagacki and Keith called the ethical topic of "the progress of truth in science." As we saw in the first chapter, Zagacki and Keith explain that "the progress of truth in science" means that with "the search for truth in science" scientists will sometimes turn out to be wrong (70-1). Dedication to the scientific enterprise means that there is scientific virtue in being wrong, or fallible. Unlike Prigogine and Stengers who explain previous scientific thought in terms of the personalities and foibles of those who generated it, Gleick blames problems with previous scientific views on technological problems. For instance, the hope of weather predictability and control could not be  David Porush concludes that Gleick ignores Prigogine and Stengers' book (Porush 156), because Prigogine and Stengers suggest that "the same questions nag novelists and scientists alike" (Porush 163). Porush applauds Prigogine's conlusion that "scientists would be wrong to ignore the fact that theoretical construction is not the only approach to the phenomena of life; another way, that of understanding from within (interpretation) is open to us" (Prigogine quoted in Porush 164-5). Porush is wrong. His interpretation of Gleick is reductionist. As evidence, I would cite Gleick's citation of Wallace Stevens (the poet) as an artist whose intuition was way ahead of science: "Wallace Stevens, for example, asserted a feeling about the world that stepped ahead of the knowledge available to physicists. He had an uncanny suspicion about flow, how it repeated itself while changing: 'The flecked river which kept flowing and never the same way twice, flowing Through many places as if it stood still in one.'" (196). 21  40  discounted until the invention of the computer demonstrated that small errors could quickly lead to large errors ("The Butterfly Effect" of Edward Lorenz). In addition, Gleick's revolution is not really a revolution because it portrays itself as a chipping away of received knowledge. Gleick's revolutionaries, unlike Prigogine and Stengers, 22  are not radicals defying what the scientific community considers to be legitimate research questions. Most of Gleick's characters are portrayed as scientists seeking solutions to legitimate outstanding problems of the community. During the course of their research the data that they gather defies explanation within existing theories. For example, Gleick relates that the search for an explanation for the onset of turbulence was expected to yield an answer consistent with that predicted by a Russian scientist named Lev D. Landau. Landau, according to Gleick, predicted that the onset of turbulence was the result of competing rhythms: [Turbulence was, Landau" theorized,] a piling up of competing rhythms. When more energy comes into a system, he conjectured, new frequencies begin one at a time, each incompatible with the last, as if a violin string responds to harder bowing by vibrating with a second, dissonant tone, and then a third, and a fourth, until the sound becomes an incomprehensible cacophony (124). According to Gleick, Landau suggested that the unstable motions of liquid that appear at the onset of turbulence "simply accumulated, one on top of another, creating rhythms with overlapping speeds and sizes" (124). Gleick says that Landau's theory, though "mathematically useless," was accepted because it seemed to fit the facts: ' Physicists accepted this picture, but no one had any idea how to predict when an increase in energy would create a new frequency, or what the new frequency would be. No one had seen these mysteriously arriving frequencies in an Gleick, unlike Prigogine and Stengers, avoids going all the way back to Newton to begin his history of chaos science. In this way, where Prigogine and Stengers portray their cutting-edge thought as an overthrow of Newton's classical science, Gleick shows that chaos merely finishes the work set in motion by other major theories of our century, Relativity and quantum mechanics. Gleick demonstrates the continuity of change that chaos represents with a quote from a scientist: "Relativity eliminated the Newtonian illusion of absolute space and time; quantum theory eliminated the Newtonian dream of a controllable measurement process; and chaos eliminates the Laplacian fantasy of deterministic predictability"(6). Gleick portrays chaos as a chipping away at ideas brought about as a natural consequence of the scientific enterprise. At the same time, because chaos augments the cycle of a new accumulation of knowledge, building on the work set in motion by Relativity and quantum mechanics, chaos is seen as a constructive force in science rather than a destructive one..  22  41  experiment because, in fact, no one had ever tested Landau's theory for the onset of turbulence (124-5). According to Gleick's tale, two researchers, Harry Swinney and Jerry Gollub, decided to test Landau's theory. They devised an experiment whereby they could observe and measure the r onset of turbulence. When they tried to measure the onset of successive competing rhythms leading to turbulence, they did not find, as Landau had predicted, that new frequencies appeared one at a time. Instead, they found that while they could measure a well-defined initial transition, no neat subsequent transitions appeared. Instead, "[a]t the next transition the flow jumped all the way to a confused state with no distinguishable cycles at all. No new frequencies, no gradual buildup of complexity. 'What [they] found was, it [theflow]became chaotic" (131). Gleick's narrative indicates that his scientists are not looking to introduce radical new theories, as Prigogine and Stengers are. Rather, Gleick's scientists are often looking to confirm existing theories. They are concerned with doing the work of the scientific community. When that work (whether it is experimental, or mathematical) fails to confirm current assumptions, new assumptions or theories, new paradigms for the direction of research must be sought. Gleick emphasizes discovery stories consistent with what Prelli would call the problem-solution topic of anomaly-solution (the scientist in the course of ordinary research is confronted by an anomaly so significant that it cannot be ignored), by stressing the need for new theories to explain scientific data. Chaos theory in Gleick's book, offers solutions to various significant, outstanding problems in the scientific community. Gleick's rhetoric maintains a viable ethos of communality by portraying chaos scientists as having objectives consistent with the interests of the scientific community. In conclusion, where Prigogine and Stengers use controversial metaphysical analogies to convey their notions of chaos science, Gleick uses empirical analogies taken from the everyday experiences of his audience (this is true whether one sees his audience as scientific or lay or a combination of both). Where Prigogine and Stengers stress their radical departure from the values of the scientific community, Gleick stresses the adherence of his scientists (by implication his adherence) to the values of the scientific community. Where Prigogine and Stengers stress  42  the uniqueness and originality of their contribution to chaos science, Gleick stresses the dedication of his scientists to the scientific community and the objectives of the scientific enterprise. In short, where Prigogine and Stengers stress their disdain for the rhetorical virtues of scientific reasonableness, Gleick is at pains to show the respect of his scientists for the rhetorical virtues of scientific reasonableness. So, where Prigogine and Stengers' version of chaos stresses non-conformity, Gleick's . version of chaos stresses conformity. I cannot say for sure why Gleick does not include Prigogine and Stengers in his history. But I would venture to guess that the lack of quantitative evidence in Prigogine and Stengers' work, their overemphasis on the grandeur and individuality of their ideas, their dismissal of previous scientific knowledge, and their inappropriate use of the forum of popular science to introduce new and untested knowledge claims were enough to discount the acceptability of their work based on the criteria of reasonableness outlined by Prelli. Indeed, Gleick's reference to Prigogine and Stengers' book as a "highly individual philosophical view of the relationships between thermodynamics and dynamical systems," stresses the very same qualities that Prigogine and Stengers want to emphasize in their rhetoric (Gleick 3 3 9 ) . Given that Gleick stresses the very same qualities in Prigogine and Stengers' work as the authors themselves do, why does Hayles refer to Gleick's treatment of them as a "remarkable omission"? Why does Hayles come to the conclusion that Prigogine and Stengers have been unjustly excluded from Gleick's history? Hayles applies two separate criteria of evaluation to assess Prigogine and Stengers' work and Gleick's. Hayles treats Gleick's book as a literary narrative (completely ignoring his science), and Prigogine and Stengers' book as rather sloppy science that contains very important scientific insights and philosophical ideas. In consequence, she does a searing, literary feminist critique of Gleick's text, and examines Prigogine and Stengers' text as a philosophical scientific treatise. The disparity between Hayles' treatment of Prigogine and Stengers and her treatment of Gleick indicates that she prefers Prigogine and Stengers' book. Hayles wants to emphasize Prigogine and Stengers' version of chaos over Gleick's version. She does so because Hayles wants to use Prigogine and Stengers' ideas of  43  opening up the boundaries between disciplines to bolster her own attempts to create an interdisciplinary theory based on similar ideas of chaos in science and in literary criticism. As we will see in the next chapter, Hayles employs the ideas and metaphors of chaos science in an elaborate conceptual dance with the ideas and metaphors of postmodernism to imply an interdisciplinary methodology.  44  Chapter Three Chaos Bound: An Epistemological Proposition The subject of this third chapter is Katherine Hayles' book Chaos Bound . My 23  exploration of Hayles' book concerns an issue raised by my first two chapters. That issue is why does Hayles posit the differences between Prigogine and Stengers and Gleick as a split in chaos science? To answer that question it is necessary to understand Hayles' interdisciplinary project. Consequently, I will first discuss Hayles' interdisciplinary project, then look at how her treatment of Prigogine and Stengers and Gleick fits in with the ideas of Hayles' study. Finally, I will suggest an extension to Hayles' model. I will now turn to a discussion df Hayles' book. Hayles' text is both accurate and convoluted, quantitatively precise and ambiguous. Rhetorically it attempts to appeal to the values of both the scientific and the literary establishments in order to open up arterial branches of inquiry that have been perceived as closed between the two. Hayles, like the surgeon, is preserver and creator. She maintains the integrity of science and of literature as two distinct disciplines. Yet, Hayles conjoins the two disciplines in a cultural model that can account for their similarities as part of a common cultural episteme. Hayles' differing treatment of Prigogine and Stengers and Gleick can be explained as consistent with her interdisciplinary project. Her differing treatment is consistent with the transmissive model that Hayles uses to define the current cultural episteme, and with the self-reflexive metaphors that she uses to convey that model. But there is an inconsistency in Hayles' model that allows her to treat Prigogine and Stengers' work, and Gleick's from two distinct points of view. This inconsistency could weaken Hayles' model, as will be shown later. First, I will discuss Hayles' model.  Reviewers of Hayles' book seem to uniformly find her text stimulating, interesting and worthwhile. One critic finds strength in her ability to straddle disciplines, "what makes her work exceptional is her grasp of the ways in which science can interrogate the cursorily examined underpinnings of much of poststructuralism and postmodernism whose theories she knows and neither dismisses nor celebrates uncritically" (Tololyan 1114). Another critic finds her attempt to merge theories under a cultural explanation her weak point: "following a dubious strategy. . . . quite specific intellectual developments flowing from restricted groups are attributed to highly general social conditions" (Schneider 609).  23  45  Hayles develops a model of postmodern culture - what she calls the "postmodern space" (a space in which meaning develops through negative definition [283]) - to explore the possibility of interdisciplinary theory. In Chaos Bound. Hayles actually models the dynamics of what she calls postmodern space that establishes the current cultural episteme. Hayles is concerned not to define her new postmodern space, to leave it unconstructed (293). Of course, Hayles tells us, such a project is "self-contradictory." She says, "if such a space is unarticulated and unconstructed, how could [she] . . . write about it and how could we know it exists? The alternative [she says] is to fill it with constructions formed by a new kind of dynamic" (283). Hayles illustrates the dynamics of postmodern space with a three part cultural model. She leaves her three part model unconstructed and unarticulated by documenting textual and theoretical space as a vacuum that has the potential for infinite fecundity. Hayles models postmodern space as a system in flux where no idea is allowed to solidify into subject.  Chaos Bound dramatizes  the transmission and the constitution of knowledge implied by Hayles' model of a borderless, groundless, inward-turning postmodern space. Hayles articulates her textual dynamics based on a three part cultural model consisting of an ecology, an economy, and an equivocation. Hayles' ecology is a global ecology of ideas that determines the cultural episteme in a given historical moment. Hayles' economy is a site specific, local economy, where the ideas of the cultural ecology manifest themselves according to the value system and expectations of the dominant economy (one which hands out real economic rewards according to the fulfillment of communal expectations) where the ideas appear. Hayles' equivocation is itself an equivocal quantity that serves to keep her text open, and her method of analysis in oscillation. Ultimately, equivocation as subject and methodology comes to fill the space of Hayles' text. I will examine the three parts of Hayles' cultural model (in order to show that her treatment of Prigogine and Stengers and Gleick is consistent with the rhetoric of her transmissive cultural model) one at a time beginning with ecology. According to Hayles' model, the dominant ecology of ideas is a product of history and language and the co-defining relationship that they share. The current ecology of ideas in  46  western society, according to Hayles, has been called postmodernism. In Chaos Bound, postmodernism as an ecology o f ideas is dominated by the signifier "chaos" (177). To arrive at an understanding o f postmodern chaos and its dominant place in the current ecology o f ideas, Hayles traces the historical evolution o f the word "chaos." Hayles follows the transvaluation o f "chaos" from its mythological roots as the partner o f Eros (responsible for the creation o f the universe through their coupling) (19), through its negative valuation as a force o f destruction (as an antonym for order) (21), to its resurrection as a positive force capable o f disrupting coercive, orderly power structures (like N a z i Germany) (22), and finally to its adoption by the scientific community as a term that entertains the contradictory possibilities o f disorder and order together as the source o f creation for all that is new (23). This last and most recent manifestation has led "chaos" full circle. In the postmodern ecology o f ideas, chaos is once again associated with a force o f creation in the universe. For Hayles, the evolution o f "chaos" and its influence on the cultural ecology o f ideas has been the result o f "a crisis o f representation" in our century (17). Hayles says a crisis o f representation in western culture has been the product o f a "denaturing" o f human representation and a subsequent "denaturing" o f human experience. Hayles defines denaturing as "the realization that what has always been thought o f as essential, unvarying components o f human experience are not natural facts o f life but social constructions" (265). Denaturing, according to Hayles, has accrued in waves starting with denatured language (as found in poststructuralist literary theory). Denatured language resulted from linguistic theory which dispelled the notion o f an unambiguous metalanguage (Hayles 267). Hayles says that language was denatured by showing that "signification is a construction rather than a natural result o f speaking or w r i t i n g . . . . Language is . . . regarded as ground painted under our feet" (269). Since thought (and therefore the cultural ecology o f ideas) is primarily linguistic, the "denaturing" o f language that exposed signification as a construction brought about, according to Hayles, a crisis i n symbolic representation that contributed to an overall sense o f alienation and detachment i n social transactions that took place as a result o f the second wave o f denaturing.  47 According to Hayles, the second wave o f denaturing was contextual. Denatured context, she says, was directly attributable to research into information theory that took place during 24  and after the Second World War (269). Information theory sought to quantify communication and to make it more efficient. A side-effect o f information theory was that to make information quantifiable, information had to be separated from its semantic association with meaning. According to Hayles, freeing information from its semantic contextual tether "initiated a feedback loop linking theory, culture, and technology," as w i l l be discussed later (271). Once the rapid progress o f information technology was facilitated by the conceptual revolution that separated meaning from information, technology itself, Hayles says, widened "the disjunction between message and context which began as a theoretical premise and became a cultural condition" (271). According to Hayles' model, test tube babies, M T V , and the ability to annihilate millions o f people with the push o f a button thousands o f miles away are all the results of denatured context (274). Denatured language, stripped o f the assurance o f an unambiguous context contributed to a crisis o f human identity in modern western culture that took place as a result o f the third wave o f denaturing. According to Hayles, the third wave o f denaturing was chronological and spatial. Hayles' theory o f denaturing suggests that time itself has become denatured for us and we have  Information is a statistical measure of the probability of a system assuming any one of its total number of possible configurations at any given point in its trajectory. According to Peitgen et al., Claude Elwood Shannon developed the theory of information as a measure for the necessary carrying capacity of communication channels. (730). An optimal average of the number of information bits (binary digits) required to discover the configuration of the system at any point is said to be the amount of information conveyed by the system. Umberto Eco, in An Open Work, quotes Warren Weaver on the concept of information: [A mathematical theory of communication] deals with the concept of information which characterizes the whole statistical nature of the information source, and is not concerned with the individual messages... . The concept of information developed in this theory at first seems disappointing and bizarre ~ disappointing because it has nothing to do with meaning, and bizarre because it deals not with a single message but rather with the. statistical character of a whole ensemble of messages, bizarre also because in these statistical terms the two words information and uncertaintyfindthemselves to be partners (57). Eco goes on to clarify the difference between information in a purely statistical sense, and information as it is sought in communication: Statistically speaking, I have information when I am made to confront all the probabilities at once, before the establishment of any order. From the point of view of communication, I have information when (1)1 have been able to establish an order (that is, a code) as a system of probability within an original disorder; and when (2) within this new system, I introduce ~ through the elaboration of a message that violates the rules of the code ~ elements of disorder in dialectical tension with the order that supports them (the message challenges the code) (58). 24  48  reconfigured our spaces to replicate our growing sense of the displacement that overwhelms our lives. Hayles says that denatured time is stripped of the idea of an orderly, sequential progress of events by which human beings identify themselves on the basis of memory. According to Hayles, "[fjime still exists in postmodernism, but it no longer functions as a continuum along which human action can meaningfully be plotted" (279). She says that the postmodern psyche despairs over the flattening out of time, and the sense that the future in an always-already context has been used up before it gets here (280). Hayles' model implies that our loss of identity and direction in denatured, postmodern time is evident in a kind of ergonomic nightmare ~ directionless architecture. She says that postmodern architecture attempts to configure space so as to make it nonnavigable. The new architectural features are "useless for spatial orientation" (278). These new architectural spaces, Hayles tells us, "create a sense of a complex noncontinuous space that defeats the usual lines of perspective" (278). For Hayles, the new architectural space mirrors our belief in the reality of a growing technological cyberspace that exists parallel to the space we occupy. According to Hayles, these architectural forms do not, as may be assumed, "point to technology as the signified. Instead technology itself is a signifier, pointing to a mass of interconnected information networks of such enormous complexity that the human mind can no longer comprehend them" (278). Cause becomes spliced with effect within the context-of-no-context. According to Hayles, technology is produced to signify our dis-ease of global networks "so far beyond our powers of perception that we cannot even see them much less control them" (278). Hayles implies that the role of disorder in contemporary culture, its role in the cultural ecology of ideas, is to medicate (relieve) our dis-ease. That is, the current cultural obsession with disorder (as realized, according to Hayles, in the recurrent themes of chaos, or disorder, found in academic theory, as well as other social institutions) is an embodiment of the disorderliness and powerlessness we feel in our denatured experience of postmodern life. Paradoxically, the cultural obsession with disorder or "chaos" is also a means of empowerment, according to Hayles (291). She implies that disorder is a way of asserting control over, or escaping from, "coercive  49  structures of order" represented by overwhelmingly complex technological networks on which we are increasingly dependent. According to Hayles' model, the cultural ecology of ideas, which dictates the intellectual themes of an era, is the result of social evolution, and historical event. In the case of "chaos" and its influence on the current ecology of ideas, Hayles says that a feedback loop was established between theory, technology and culture as the result of "denaturing," or denaturalizing, or exposing human interaction and communication as social construction. Advances in communications technology, according to Hayles, made the theoretical premise of denatured experience a reality (271). According to Hayles, the resulting philosophical and technological leaps that facilitated the disembodiment of meaning from context, led to a growing sense within the cultural psyche of disillusionment, alienation, and powerlessness (through denaturing) in the face of growing, global, technological networks capable of controlling most aspects of our lives (278). The cultural assertion of themes of disorder or chaos, according to Hayles' model, is a psychic backlash against invisible, "coercive structures of order." But that backlash, the terms of which are contained in the cultural ecology of ideas, is achieved within predetermined economic cultural sites. Even though "backlash" implies a revolt against order, the requirements of local economies that determine individual prosperity curtail the revolutionary aspects of a backlash against order, and. actually indicate that invisible, orderly economic structures are controlling the treatment of chaos.  25  Economic structures are the second part of Hayles' three part cultural model. According to Hayles' model, the cultural ecology of ideas manifests itself according to the site-specific values of the dominant local economy where those ideas appear. Local economies hand out real economic rewards according to how well a rhetor fulfills the expectations of participants in those economies. According to Hayles, different disciplinary traditions such as the humanities, specifically literary theory, and the sciences, represent two such site-specific, local economies within our culture. Hayles says that while the general ideas of chaos may have been inevitable within our current cultural ecology of ideas, the realization of those ideas at diverse disciplinary Hayles says that "ideological stances cannot be fully understood apart from the disciplinary contexts in which they are embedded"(26). 25  50  sites (such as deconstruction in literary criticism and chaos theory in science) is bound to vary wildly because those disciplines harbour totally different value structures, and reward totally different accomplishments (176-7). For Hayles, and for Lawrence Prelli, the difference between the sciences and the humanities is an economy of explanations. Prelli says that "[hjumanistic terminology leaves the way open for alternative interpretations," because humanistic disciplines value pluralistic explanations (18). In contrast, according to Prelli, "scientific terminology expresses precision and certainty as regulative ideals," because scientific disciplines value restrictive, paradigmatic explanations (18). According to Hayles' economic model, these different habits of naming, classifying, and evaluating problems and solutions mean that the two economies of the humanities and the sciences reward very different explanations (189). Hayles invokes a model of closed topological spaces, originally theorized by Stanislaw 26  Lem, as a heuristic for understanding how the same cultural ecology of ideas can be fruitfully explained in radically different disciplinary economies. Within a given topology [whose parameters will be limited in Hayles' metaphor by the cultural ecology of ideas], only certain forms are possible. Others are prohibited by the overall spatial configuration. Not every.possible form will be realized; particularities of history and personality determine which actually appear and which are repressed. All forms that are realized, however, are linked to each other through the common attributes that define the space (185). Hayles demonstrates how the topological model works as a model for cultural transmission by examining how disciplinary practitioners transform similar ideas to suit the peculiar value According to Peitgen et al, topology is a twentieth century branch of mathematics in which continuous curves are plotted into multidimensional spaces. "In topology straight lines can be bent into curves and circles can be pinched into triangles or pulled out as squares." Topology "deals with questions of form and shape from a qualitative point of view." In topology, "a plain sheet of paper is equivalent to one that is infinitely crumpled" (106). However, certain features are invariant or nonchangeable in a topological space. Intersections are said to be one such invariant, number of holes is another. Thus "a sphere may be transformed into the surface of a horseshoe, but never into a doughnut" (107). "Homeomorphic" transformations of the lines, the twisting, folding and distorting cannot change invariant properties. That is twisting can neither add nor remove intersections or holes. What such a model may mean for Hayles' ecological network of ideas, is that ideas form the intersecting nodes of a network. Since the network is realized in a topological space its qualitative properties, its description, can vary with each twisting transformation. At the same time its constituent elements (vaguely, concepts or assumptions) remain invariant. The network can be infinitely complex and varied within allowable spatial (or in Hayles' case social) constraints . 2 6  51  structures of their local economies. Hayles uses the topological metaphor to explain the dynamics of ecology and economy in her cultural model. The global ecology of ideas is twisted, squeezed, and transformed by the economy of explanations at specific cultural sites such as the humanities and the sciences. For example, according to Hayles, chaos theory and deconstruction share the basic ideas of absent or unknowable origins, of folds that harbour indeterminacy, and of iteration that leads to complexity. The commonality of these ideas is a result, according to Hayles, of a cultural ecology of ideas where chaos, complexity, folds, and iteration form an interconnected network of ideas that trigger inevitable associations (184). The differences between these theories are a result, Hayles says, of disciplinary economies. For example, chaos theory uses mathematics that Hayles says is "capable of exact definition" (183). Conversely, Hayles tells us, deconstruction uses language, which is, she says, "notoriously resistant to formalization" (183). Hayles says that chaos theorists claim most, but not all, systems are chaotic. On the other hand deconstructionists claim that all texts are always-already indeterminable. Ultimately, according to Hayles, for literary theorists, chaos "defies order." For scientists, Hayles says, chaos is that which makes order possible (184). Hayles points out that while both deconstruction and chaos theory appear to make radical claims with respect to existing theories or practices in their discipline, both deconstructionist theory and chaos theory actually use chaos in rather conservative ways with respect to their disciplinary economies. In other words, rhetors in both the sciences and the humanities approach chaos rather conservatively when it comes to conforming to the mandates of the economic traditions to which they are appealing. Hayles demonstrates this disciplinary conservatism by examining two texts, Claude Shannon's 'A Mathematical Theory of Communication,' from the sciences, and Roland Barthes' 'S/Z' from literary criticism. In each text, Hayles points out, the concept of equivocation figures prominently. According to Hayles, equivocation as used by Shannon, an electrical engineer for Bell Laboratories, stood for noise in the transmission channel unintended by the message sender. That noise could be static or interference which muddies the intended message. Therefore, from  52  Shannon's perspective, Hayles says, equivocation was undesirable, something to be eliminated, or at least damped as much as possible. On the other hand, for Barthes, Hayles tells us, the equivocation or "noise" in a text is what counts. Noise is desirable for Barthes, indispensable. For Barthes, noise is that which renders reading and rereading pleasurable. The more times one reads a text, the more noise one creates and desires. In effect, according to Hayles, these differences entail that "[t]he equivocation that Shannon wants to eliminate, Barthes offers up for consumption"(188). Hayles offers an economic explanation for these two ways of treating the same subject. She says that as the result of a restricted canon, but an expanding membership in the field, "literary criticism has operated according to an economy of scarcity. Too many critics, too few texts" (189). A viable solution is offered by deconstruction, which, Hayles says, "overcomes this scarcity [of texts] by showing how each text can be made into an infinite number of texts. Moreover, it [deconstruction] actually converts scarcity to excess by proclaiming that theory's proper subject is not only literature but theory itself (189). Through the philosophy and methodology of deconstruction, Hayles says, "a closed system operating according to an economy of scarcity [is converted] into an open system based on autocatalysis, [self-replication]" (190). According to Hayles, for Barthes, as a literary critic, "fame, money and power come from generating new words from old texts. The more texts are opened . . . the more the community in which he works will reward him" (190). Therefore, Barthes wants to keep the channel of his text as noisy as possible in order to open up as many texts as possible. Conversely, Shannon, Hayles tells us, operates by a different set of communal norms and affiliations. Claude Shannon worked as an electrical engineer for AT&T. According to Hayles, Shannon's objective was to minimize the redundancy necessary for efficient message transmission, because efficient transmission translated into corporate profit. Conversely, too much room for equivocation or noise in the channel meant lost profits (191-2). Shannon's financial incentive, coupled with his professional associations led him to value radical economy "that would allow language itself to be more compressed" (Hayles 191). Therefore, Shannon  53  wants to eliminate noise in his communication channel as much as possible in order to make transmission as unambiguous as possible. Of course, we have already seen in Prelli that the shorter and more "elegant" the explanation, the more value it holds for the scientific community. Within the literary community, on the other hand, Hayles has shown that the more convoluted the explanation, the more work that can be generated from it, the higher its value. In both cases fruitfulness seems to be the evaluative criterion. For Barthes, Hayles tells us, it is the reader who pays for the message. His concern is with its reception. That is, the more ambiguous the message, the more ways it can be read, the more economical it is for the reader, and the more fruitful it is for the literary community (192). Conversely, she says, for Shannon, it is the sender who pays for the message. His concern is with its transmission. That is, the less ambiguous the message, the more efficient its transmission, the more economical it is for the sender, and the more fruitful it is for the scientific community (or in Shannon's case the corporate community) (191). Hayles tells us that Barthes gains fame, money and power for supplementing the ambiguity of the message. On the other hand, Shannon gains fame, money and power, according to Hayles, by eliminating the ambiguity of the message. It is this conformance to the expectations and ideologies of their respective disciplines that Hayles says makes what are perceived as radical claims in both the sciences (chaos as revolution), and literary theory (deconstruction as revolution) really rather conservative responses to postmodern chaos (176). Summing up the first two parts of Hayles' three part cultural model, we could say that postmodern culture, underwritten by the term "chaos" with all its noisy connotative baggage, is determined by and determines the cultural ecology of ideas. The cultural ecology of ideas influences what theories will be advanced within intellectual circles, but the specific shape of those theories varies between the values and agendas of particular intellectual circles, according to Hayles' economic theory. Hayles' cultural model consists of three parts, of which we have discussed the first two, ecology and economy. We will now turn to the third part of Hayles' model, equivocation.  54  Equivocation is Hayles' subject and her methodology. Hayles says that equivocation is the influence of, or fluctuation introduced by, individual desire on the organization of global epistemes (the cultural ecology of ideas) (196). Sometimes, Hayles points out to us, individual desire puts a torque into otherwise conservatively rendered theories and introduces changes into local economies that might not be in keeping with tradition. For example, she points out that Barthes maintains a very capitalistic desire to erect and control a power structure in his equivocating text, and Warren Weaver, in commenting on Claude Shannon's paper, chose to speculate that sometimes desired meaning could be introduced as the result of unintended noise in the channel (193-5). To Hayles, these local fluctuations, or equivocations, can influence change in the organizing imperative of economy at local sites, that can in turn influence the global structure of the ecology of ideas. Equivocation can lead to re-valuation, such as the revaluation of the term "chaos," which according to Hayles is what directs the reorganization of the cultural ecology of ideas that has developed into postmodernism. Hayles uses equivocation as the mechanism capable of introducing global cultural change through local fluctuation. Thus the equivocating model that Hayles says represents the transmission of knowledge and the constitution of culture is a chaotic system like the chaotic systems in her study. Hayles' methodology is also equivocation. She oscillates among totally unrelated objects of study, never allowing any one object to solidify into the subject of her text, never allowing any one statement that she makes to exist without a refutation. To effect an interdisciplinary study, Hayles locates herself in the region of equivocation between disciplines. That is, she locates herself in neither science, nor literary criticism, but in both simultaneously. Hayles' equivocal stance between disciplines introduces a lot of noise into her text. Thus the form of her text embodies its scientific, literary and cultural ideas. Hayles' oscillation allows her to not locate her text within one discipline or the other but rather to, as she puts it, "glide along the system's interstices" speaking not science or literary criticism, but both. Chaos Bound, as an oscillatory medium of exchange between science and literary criticism and other forms of cultural communication such as art, architecture, and telecommunications, self-consciously documents postmodern space, or culture, as a system in  55  flux. Hayles models the fluctuating, self-amplifying transmission of cultural knowledge through her equivocation. She defines that transmission as a feedback loop where global epistemes (isomorphic cultural paradigms) inform local cultural sites whose fluctuations build global epistemes, whose assumptions, in turn, "guide the constitution of knowledge" in specific cultural sites (Hayles xi). Effectively, the postmodern space where Hayles documents interdisciplinary theory is filled with equivocation. A space filled with equivocation says nothing, but, in saying nothing, that space must also be saying a multitude of things in order to remain in an equivocal state. Hayles claims to be constructing, most emphatically not deconstructing (176). Yet what she is constructing is non-construction for at every turn the resort to equivocation leaves the space of her text unfilled. In fact, at the end of Chaos Bound, the very text that she is not writing is said to deconstruct itself, which would make a paradox of her claim to not be deconstructing. The paradox itself would be a construction. But since she is not writing such a text, no paradox exists: In a fully denatured narrative, one would expect the language to be selfreferential; the context to be self-consciously created, perhaps by the splicing together of disparate contexts; the narrative progression to be advanced through the evolution of underlying structures rather than through chronological time; and the characters to be construed so as to expose their nature as constructions. However, this list of strategies should not be construed as a set of criteria by which one can determine which narratives are "really" denatured or postmodern. Such a project would be self-contradictory . . . (294). Of course, everything that Hayles writes is self-contradictory, which is itself a self-contradiction, and so we as readers are caught up in an endless and self-amplifying feedback loop in the equivocation of Hayles' wildly oscillating text. Hayles' takes an ironic tone toward her own equivocal project when she comments on Michael Serres' equivocating interdisciplinary project. Serres, according to Hayles, also uses  56  equivocation as his centerpiece: "As different voices compete within the channel of Serres' writing, equivocation serves both as the keystone for his theory of communication and as a metaphor for the conflicting impulses inherent in his interdisciplinary approach" (197). Serres' work, Hayles says, suffers from the same impulse as much postmodern theory. His work idealizes radical pluralism in the guise of the local, but his commitment to the ideology of the local is so intense that "he feels compelled to strengthen it by making it universally valid" (Hayles 196). Hayles feels that Serres' text fails, because its equivocation is hampered by his idealizing the local: Serres, despite his professed commitment to the local, keeps driving toward the universal because he cannot help feeling what virtually all scientists and very few poststructuralists do: the power of scientific explanations. His writing does not merely discuss literature and science. Informed both by the expanding economy of poststructuralism and by the contracting aesthetic of science, it is literature-and-science. Taking equivocation as its central topos, it is also itself deeply equivocal, for the different voices of literature and science are both trying to occupy the same channel at the same time (202). Serres' text fails, according to Hayles, because his equivocation becomes univocal when he insists on the dominance of difference. Conversely, Hayles says that her own project, which is very similar to Serres', succeeds because her cultural model allows both disciplines to maintain their uniqueness at the same time that they are brought together by a cultural explanation for the common episteme that seems to guide the constitution of theory and therefore knowledge in both disciplines: In attempting to articulate literature and science together through the three modes of interaction discussed in this chapter — ecology, economy, and equivocation ~ I have sought to create an equivocal site at which both disciplines can have a voice. The vision I hope to have conveyed is not of science influencing literature but of literature and science as two mingled voices within the cacophonography that we call postmodern culture (207-8).  57  By representing differences within sameness, that is a cacophony of irreconcilable voices within the model of a closed topological space, Hayles is indeed differentiating her theory from Serres' and is therefore not creating a paradox in her criticism of the noisy oscillation produced by the feedback loop that he creates with his self-referentiality. On the other hand, oscillation, her object of study, is both subject and methodology, which does create an ironic, self-referential paradox. On the other hand, the paradox she creates is an equivocation, so no paradox exists in her work. Informed by both the disciplines of science and of literary criticism, Hayles' text is both convoluted and accurate, ambiguous and quantitatively precise. Hayles creates a deconstructive text based on models and metaphors taken from science. Through her variable equivocation, Hayles produces a text of boundless complexity modeled on the new geometric constructs of chaos science.  ,  The spirit of fractal geometry informs Hayles' text. As in Gleick's text, fractal geometry is an exemplary heuristic acted out by the discourse of Chaos Bound. Like the new geometry, and the kinds of vast, immeasurable spaces it implies within finite and measurable parameters, Hayles' discourse offers no directional or spatial orientation. As readers lost without a compass, we feel the very anxiety within Hayles' narrative structure that she posits as a psychic explanation for the appeal of chaos. Hayles has constructed a network of such overwhelming complexity that it defies legitimate claims to comprehension. Hayles does make some claims for her text: "At best I have reenacted the cultural dominant in such a way as to make its dynamics clearer than they might have been before. If my narrative is useful, it is because it self-consciously embraces what it cannot help being ~ a denatured construction" (294). The process of denaturing is said to energize into play a set of vectors in the textual field: "The more vectors that are energized in a particular text or site, the more dimensional complexity the field will have, and consequently the more complicated it can be" (Hayles 294). I believe that Hayles does see her text as a proliferation of vectors. Those vectors are the questions that her text points to but never addresses. I believe that Hayles sees her field proper as that equivocal plane which straddles two disciplines and an art form, and as  58  much of the cultural network as she can incorporate into her system within a bounded space in two (or properly speaking three) dimensions determined by her editors. She only has to create the parameters for her system. Once the parameters are programmed into the machines of discipline, the text becomes self-generating. The paper that you are reading right now, and your thoughts about it are evidence of the appropriateness of the chaotic metaphor for the transmission of ideas. For Hayles, the spread of knowledge and ideas is the result of shared cultural sensibilities. Shared sensibilities are the result of history and the commonality of language which have a co-defining relationship. The co-defining relationship of history and language produces a cultural ecology of ideas, or common cultural episteme that decides what ideas will dominate the intellectual landscape of given periods. The manifestation of dominant cultural ideas in local intellectual subcultures governed by specific values which determine local economies is responsible for the variance of the global ecology of ideas at local sites. In Hayles' model of the transmission of ideas, change occurs as the result of local fluctuation, or equivocation, or the introduction of a hiccup within the values of local economies (the result of individual choice that leads to a re-valuation of ideas). Those local fluctuations, if conditions are favourable, can quickly be translated up to macroscopic proportions where they can reform the global ecology of ideas through large scale fluctuations in language, or history, or both. Change in the ecology of ideas can in turn dictate change within local economic subcultures. To conclude, Hayles' own text, like chaos theory, "is marked by the ambivalence characteristic of this cultural moment" (Hayles 293). Hayles' "purpose," her rhetorical end, is to say nothing. In creating an interdisciplinary theory, she only admits to creating a theory of the impossibility of creating a theory of interdisciplinarity (37). Hayles' discourse is a creative vacuum. By itself it contains nothing — it simply opens up questions and points of crises that generate interdisciplinary questions. One of her important questions for a rhetorical study is who controls context and for what purpose? When applied to Hayles' own text, it leads us to question the very essence of the postmodern aesthetic. We are told that contemporary culture is marked by anxiety. We are  59  made to feel anxious by textual displacement, disruption, and the seemingly absolute lack of orientation. Yet, absolutism is absolutely denied by the discourse, which only increases our anxiety. Who is controlling this context and for what purpose? Are we at the mercy of incomprehensible totalitarian networks controlling our lives? Or is anxiety a marketing tool for the textual machine of deconstruction? I think Hayles' text is a remarkably useful tool because it throws into relief important questions that might not be asked within specific local sites that are held in high regard in contemporary culture. Hayles' interdisciplinary text implies that disciplines themselves are suitable material for exegesis. As to Hayles' selective treatment of Prigogine and Stengers' text and Gleick's, I propose that her concept of the feedback loop allowed her to portray ideas as sometimes originating in the community, sometimes originating in, or being initiated by the individual. Hayles goes to great lengths to discredit the idea expressed in Gleick that chaos science was a result of individual creative genius: I do not believe that the scientists Gleick writes about acted in isolation. I think that they rather acted like lightening rods in a thunderstorm or seed crystals in a supersaturated solution. They gave a local habitation and a name to what was in the air. It was because the cultural atmosphere surrounding them was supercharged that these ideas seemed so pressing and important (194). Yet, in order to recuperate what she sees as Prigogine's unfairly beleaguered reputation, Hayles must portray Prigogine as an independent visionary or creative genius (114). In Prigogine's case the ideas of chaos are dispersed from the individual into a fertile environment. In the case of Gleick's scientists, the ideas are seeded into the fertile heads of individuals from a charged environment. While such differing portrayals may be consistent with Hayles' metaphor of the feedback loop, the selective use of originary sources is not inconsequential for Hayles' rhetoric about a lack of identifiable originary sources. Hayles has a vested interest in Prigogine and Stengers' work beyond its scientific implications. Prigogine and Stengers, like Hayles, favor a cultural explanation for the historical  60  significance of any given theoretical paradigm. Perhaps this is why they seek validation of their work from a general audience before they seek it from an audience of peers. At any rate, motivated by individual desire, they create a fluctuation in the disciplinary economy of science that Hayles wishes to capitalize on and amplify in her own discourse. Conversely, Gleick's partisanship to scientific values is decidedly undesirable in Hayles' open text. Partisanship appears to squeeze shut arterial lines of communality between science and literary criticism. Of course, since Gleick is writing popular science that conforms to scientific standards of reasonableness, he is most interested in closure, and one way lines of communication. It is in the interest of Hayles' discourse to invalidate Gleick's closure, not to question the precepts of the scientific paradigm but to expand the network in which it is relevant. Hayles effects a new stance or relationship between Chaos and Order Out of Chaos by positing their differences as a split in chaos science. Prigogine and Stengers' book is on one side of that split, the so-called metaphysical or philosophical side. Gleick and all the scientists in his book are on the other side of that split, the so-called experimental side. Hayles covers the scientific aspects of Gleick's book directly from the papers written by his scientists. In that way, Hayles can treat Gleick strictly in narrative terms. Prigogine and Stengers, on the other hand, are treated as science and philosophy. Accordingly, Hayles has created a split within the science of chaos that serves her own rhetorical ends. The feedback loop in Chaos Bound is not just a transmission model but a rhetorical tool that allows Hayles to hedge her position in the "always already" paradox, when it suits her purpose to say that sometimes there are identifiable originary sources, sometimes there are not identifiable originary sources. A way around this inconsistency may be to embed the transmissive mechanism of the feedback loop in a network of interrelated feedback loops. Karen Burke LeFevre describes the individual as a social construction who is always already the site of the cultural or communal (24-5). Ideas then, or even visions can originate in the individual as socially constituted. I would suggest a network is a strong heuristic model for the transmission of the cultural ecology of ideas.  61  The network is dynamic. As Hayles has shown, and as Umberto Eco would describe, the cultural network is constantly evolving through "a continuous superimposi[tion] of correlations" everytime a word is used in a slightly different context (Eco 125). The network 27  also allows for multiple voices occupying the same channel simultaneously, as Hayles' text ascribes to it. An infinitely self-embedded network (within the topological space of postmodernism) from which any cultural idea can be accessed from any given starting point also suggests more of an openness to intertextual influences than the loop. In rhetorical terms, the network model of transmission could be consistent with Prelli's model of the transmission of knowledge, and also with Bruno Latour's. In rhetorical terms, the network might function something like this: ideas develop at intersecting nodes in the intricate rhizome of the cultural network. A node could be an individual or a collectivity of individuals. The nodes are always already an indivisible part of the network of ideas. Nodes are both receptors and generators of the feedback branches that connect the cultural network. As such, the cultural is enacted in the individual and the individual is enacted within the cultural. LeFevre would say the two share a dialectically co-defining dynamic (37). Culturally consistent ideas foment in the heads of individuals, or nodes. Those ideas are sent back into the network under a particular, or localized, description selected for its efficacy in terms of the potential survival of those ideas. Some ideas are "better" than others because of the efficacy of their description within the area(s) of the network toward which they are initially projected. Efficacy is determined by the consubstantiality of values inherent in the description with the values of those who respond to it. The more commonly held the values are, the more efficient the transmission of the discourse. By implication, the more common the values, the "better" the idea. Values are the ever-present spirits of the discourse that determine the viability and the longevity of ideas once they have been extruded from the individual through our cultural systems of communication.  For a fuller explanation of how Eco uses chaotic concepts to examine "infinite semantic recursivity," see his explanation of the Model Q and its semantic topological space (121-9): "From a sign which is taken as a type, it is possible to penetrate, from the center to the farthest periphery, the whole universe of cultural units, each of which can in turn become the center and create infinite peripheries" (122). 27  62  Conclusion  Hayles' cultural model opens up a way to explore conceptual connections between science and literary criticism (or presumably art, history, cultural anthropology, or any number of disciplines). Hayles' text is a field of open issues that could prompt inquiry from many disciplines. In this paper, I have taken up one issue, that of an ostensible split within the science of chaos. Hayles describes a split in chaos theory between a metaphysical branch of the science, represented, Hayles says, by Prigogine and Stengers' book Order Out of Chaos, and an experimental branch of the science, represented, Hayles says, by Gleick's book Chaos: Making a New Science. M y exploration of the rhetoric of Order Out of Chaos and Chaos: Making a New Science reveals that another explanation could exist for the differences between these two works. When Order Out of Chaos and Chaos: Making a New Science are examined in light of Prelli's criteria for scientific reasonableness, it appears that Prigogine and Stengers' book, Order Out of Chaos, has some rhetorical characteristics that might affect the way it is received in the scientific community. Not only does it uphold values of pluralistic explanations, more commonly found in the humanities, but it fails to demonstrate some of the fundamental values of the scientific community that Prelli has outlined, such as quantitative precision, accuracy, consistency, and communality. Conversely, Gleick's text, Chaos: Making a New Science, upholds the disciplinary values of science by showing concern for community, for internal and external consistency, and for the continuity of scientific traditions in chaos theory. Gleick's narrative concentrates on displaying the rightness and inevitability of chaos as a new scientific paradigm through the strategic use of exemplary and ethical topics that strongly correspond to scientific ideals of communality. Conversely, Prigogine and Stengers stress the creativity of their unique contribution to science through the use of rhetorically weaker ethical positions and heretical imagery. The lack of strong evidential backing for Prigogine and Stengers' claims makes their use of extremely radical ethical topics problematic.  63  I have suggested that it is the weakness of Prigogine and Stengers' rhetorical argument against the received criteria for scientific reasonableness that could have excluded them from Gleick's influential history of chaos. I have also suggested that Hayles has produced a perceived split in chaos theory by using Gleick's exclusion of Prigogine and Stengers' work as evidence of two branches of chaos science, one philosophical, and one experimental. Hayles reinforces the ostensible split within chaos by examining Order Out of Chaos and Chaos from two distinct points of view. Hayles produces a split within chaos because she has a vested economic interest in recuperating Prigogine and Stengers' text. Hayles wants to capitalize on a 28  disciplinary fluctuation that Prigogine and Stengers have introduced (the suggestion of the cultural and historical contingency of science), and thus it is in her own rhetorical interest to recuperate the credibility of their book. Since Gleick appears to represent values that deny legitimacy to Prigogine and Stengers' philosophy, (the idea that science is the product of great minds, which Hayles says divorces science from culture) Hayles wants to discredit the worldview that Gleick's discourse appears to uphold. To draw distinctions between Prigogine and Stengers' chaos and Gleick's, Hayles treats Prigogine and Stengers' book as a work of science and philosophy, not as a narrative popularization. In contrast, Hayles treats Gleick's book only as narrative. She does not cover his scientific passages. Consequently, Gleick's book is not even read by Hayles as a popularization, but only as a narrative fiction. In this paper I intended to show that Prigogine and Stengers and Gleick are both writing popular science. I wanted to suggest an alternative explanation to the philosophical explanation offered by Hayles for Gleick's exclusion of Prigogine and Stengers from his book, derived from a rhetorical analysis based on Prelli's criteria of scientific reasonableness. I tried to demonstrate that the differences between Gleick and Prigogine and Stengers can be seen as rhetorical rather than philosophical, by examining both Prigogine and Stengers and Gleick from the rhetorical perpective of scientific reasonableness.  For Hayles, fame money and power come from appealing to both the rhetoric of science and the rhetoric of literary criticism. Hayles wants to suggest that the sciences and the humanities are tied to each other through a common cultural episteme. Prigogine and Stengers suggest the same thing. Therefore, if she can prove that their work is important, despite some objectionable rhetorical characteristics, she has support for her theory. Prigogine and Stengers establish a precedent for her theory in science. 28  64  In this essay, I have examined Hayles' complex, interdisciplinary study of chaos in order to understand why she may have posited Gleick's exclusion of Prigogine and Stengers as a split within the sciences. I have suggested that Hayles' interdisciplinary, cultural model (based on the dynamics of ecology, economy and equivocation) is extremely fruitful for both the sciences and the humanities. And I have looked at the skillful rhetoric that Hayles uses to negotiate the region of equivocation between disciplines. I have suggested that Hayles manages to appeal to both the rhetoric of scientific reasonableness and the rhetoric of literary criticism. I have looked at her model for the transmission of knowledge and culture, and suggested that Hayles' position with respect to Prigogine and Stengers and Gleick is in part determined by her own economic incentives as outlined by her cultural model. I have also suggested an extension of Hayles' model that allows for individual creativity while acknowledging that the global ecology of ideas (from which individual creativity is always-already inseparable) necessitates the absent or unknowable origins of ideas. Ultimately, what I hope to have done in this paper is to elucidate a possible set of answers to two out of the many questions raised by Hayles' study: Why does Gleick leave Prigogine and Stengers out of his influential history of chaos? And why does Hayles say that Gleick's exclusion of Prigogine and Stengers indicates a split in chaos science? I sought answers to these questions using Lawrence Prelli's topological criteria of scientific reasonableness. A different set of criteria would have yielded different answers. In chaos, answers depend not only on the questions asked, but on the standards and methods used to measure and evaluate those questions. In the end, that interdependence is one of the many fruitful lessons of chaos.  65  Bibliography Burns, David. Rev. of Chaos: Making a New Science, by James Gleick. Commonweal. 4 Dec. 1987:710. Burns, David. Rev. of Order Out of Chaos: Man's New Dialogue with Nature, by Ilya Prigogine andlsabelle Stengers. Commonweal 13 July 1984: 411-12. Rev. of Chaos: Making a New Science, by James Gleick. Booklist 1 Oct. 1987: 187. Rev. of Chaos Making a New Science, by James Gleick. New Yorker 16 Nov. 1987: 160. Coffey, Elaine. "The Good, the Bad and the Chaotic: Making a New Science Popular." Unpublished essay, 1993. Eco, Umberto. The Open Work. Trans. Anna Cancogni. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1989. Eco, Umberto. A Theory of Semiotics. Bloomington: Indianna UP, 1979. Feigenbaum, Mitchell J. Foreword. Chaos and Fractals: New Frontiers of Science. By HeinzOtto Peitgen, Hartmut Jurgens and Deitmar Saupe. New York: Springer-Verlag, 1992. 1-7. Gleick, James. Chaos: Making a New Science. New York: Penguin, 1987. Gilbert, G. Nigel, and Michael Mulkay. Opening Pandora's Box: A Sociological Analysis of Scientists' Discourse. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1984. Hayles, N. Katherine. Chaos Bound: Orderly Disorder in Contemporary Literature and Science. Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1990. Kelley, Robert T. "Chaos out of Order: The Writerly Discourse of Semipopular Scientfic Texts." The Literature of Science: Perspectives on Popular Scientific Writing. Ed. Murdo William McRae. Athens GA: U of Georgia P, 1993. 132-151. Kitcher, Philip. "Persuasion." Persuading Science: The Art of Scientific Rhetoric. Eds. Marcello Pera and William R. Shea. Canton MA: Science History Publications, 1991. 3-27. Kuhn, Thomas. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. 2nd ed. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1970. Latour, Bruno. Science in Action. Stony Stratford UK: Open UP, 1987.  66  Layzer, David. "The Physics of Time and Order." Rev. of Order Out of Chaos: Man's New Dialogue with Nature, by Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers. Technology Review 88 (1985): 20-1. LeFevre, Karen Burke. Invention as a Social Act. Carbondale: Southern Illinois UP, 1987. Maddox, John. "How Butterflies Cause Hurricanes." Rev. of Chaos: Making a New Science, by James Gleick. New York Times Book Review 25 Oct. 1987: 11. McGuire, J. E., and Trevor Melia. "The Rhetoric of the Radical Rhetoric of Science." Rhetorica 9 (1991): 301-16. McGuire, Michael. An Eye for Fractals: A Graphic and Photographic Essay. Redwood City CA: Addison-Wesley, 1991. Rev. of Order Out of Chaos: Man's New Dialogue with Nature, by Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers. Kirkus Reviews 15 Feb. 1984: 196. Peitgen, Heinz-Otto, Hartmut Jurgens, and Dietmar Saupe. Chaos and Fractals: New Frontiers of Science. New York: Springer-Verlag, 1992. Pera, Marcello. "The Role and Value of Rhetoric in Science." Persuading Science: The Art of Scientific Rhetoric. Eds. Marcello Pera and William R. Shea. Canton MA: Science History Publications, 1991. Pera, Marcello, and William R. Shea, eds. Persuading Science: The Art of Scientific Rhetoric. Canton MA: Science History Publications, 1991. Porush, David S. "Making Chaos: Two Views of a New Science." The Literature of Science: Perspectives on Popular Scientific Writing. Ed. Murdo William McRae. Athens GA: U of Georgia P, 1993. 152-168. Prelli, Lawrence J. A Rhetoric of Science: Inventing Scientific Discourse. Columbia SC: U of South Carolina P, 1989. Prigogine, Ilya, and Isabelle Stengers. Order Out of Chaos: Man's New Dialogue with Nature. Toronto: Bantam, 1984. Schneider, Mark A. Rev. of Chaos Bound, by N. Katherine Hayles. Contemporary Sociology Jul. 1991: 608-9. Simmons, Nancy Craig. Rev. of Chaos Bound, by N. Katherine Hayles. American Literature 64 (1992): 622-3. Tololyan, K. 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