III/2/. Conceptions of Battlestar Galactica

In 1950, A. M. Turing published a seminal theoretical treatise on artificial intelligence in the journal Mind. Therein, he proposes that "thinking" should be solely defined by a (human or machine) entity's ability to succeed at a puzzle he calls "The Imitation Game," which consists of convincingly mimicking, in typewritten responses, the distinguishing characteristics of the other (a man, in the case of a machine; a woman, in the case of a man). In reducing intelligence to the performance of intelligence, and asserting that any more transcendental standard is merely "the polite convention that everyone thinks" (446), he demolishes long-treasured depth models of consciousness and identity. If Turing's test undermines fixed differences between genders and between the biological and the technological only at the expense of reinscribing the originary mind-body divide, then this metaphysical duo, as Hayles argues in How We Became Posthuman, is nevertheless a (re)productive one: the Imitation Game "necessarily makes the subject into a cyborg, for the enacted and represented bodies are brought into conjunction through the technology that connects them" (xiii). As a hybrid of human and machine, the cyborg is closely linked to Hayles's pivotal concept of the posthuman, which "implies not only a coupling with intelligent machines but a coupling so intense and multifaceted that it is no longer possible to distinguish meaningfully between the biological organism and the informational circuits in which the organism is enmeshed" (35). In this construction, difference remains in dispute: neither distinctly binary as in the case of the parent opposition nor fully resolved in favor of its amalgamated offspring. The hybrid remains an awkward and conditional synthesis of modern and postmodern topographies of identity, and it is this terrain that Battlestar Galactica so fruitfully inhabits.

Accordingly, the program's premise is one generation in a lineage of science-fiction and cyberpunk narratives that intervene in these questions, as part of a technological imaginary in its own hybrid intercourse with the material evolution of mediated bodies. In Zeros + Ones, Sadie Plant weaves a genealogy of android ingénues and femme fatales stretching back to Hadaly, the "virtual woman" who is the subject of Villiers de l'Isle Adam's 1884 novel The Future Eve. A robot bride constructed by a fictional Thomas Edison, she is succeeded by texts that include Metropolis, The Stepford Wives, Bladerunner and Eve of Destruction; as Plant remarks, "Of course the makers of all these machines were aware that they might break down or run wild, away, and out of control" (87-88). According to Plant it was cybernetics, the science of self-regulating systems, that ironically "exposed the weaknesses of all attempts to predict and control" (159) in the course of its mission to understand and promote order within an entropic universe. The very feedback loops that enable a system to regulate and coordinate itself ensure that it is in constant circulation, its boundaries never fixed. I'd add that the hybrid has a certain affinity with these "runaway effects." Dynamic processes have a tendency to favor the production of hybrids over the preservation of bounded differences: "Continually interacting with each other, constituting new systems, collecting and connecting themselves to form additional assemblages, [cybernetic] systems were only individuated in the most contingent and temporary of senses" (162). Moreover, the resultant hybrids are prone to continuing the runaway drift through undisciplined and unpredictable behavior – one of the dangers of reconfiguring ontological essence as technologically-negotiated simulation, as Turing does with the Imitation Game. The hybrid (in this case, the cyborg or otherwise simulated or simulatable human, with its bipartite disposition), as the provisional fusion of two into one, always leaves a gap where the intended and anticipated operation of the system can and does run amok.

In Battlestar Galactica's rendition, an advanced human civilization exists on twelve planetary Colonies somewhere in the universe. In Colonial mythology (a polytheistic religion based on Greco-Roman and Mormon traditions), all of us had a common origin on the planet Kobol, but in the exodus from this paradise several thousand years ago (in Colonial history) a thirteenth tribe was separated from the rest and settled a legendary homeland called Earth. The miniseries opens forty years after the end of a bloody war with the Cylons, a breed of intelligent machines that humans created to serve them. The Colonies have had no contact with the Cylons during the intervening decades, and are just beginning to relax security measures and reintegrate advanced technology into their society (during the first war, they were forced to revert to more primitive systems, since the Cylons could remotely interface with and instantly disable the newer, networked ones). Without warning, the Cylons mount a massive attack that wipes out the entire civilization of billions, with the exception of less than 50,000 people who manage to flee the genocide. The ensuing series follows this small fleet of ships as they attempt to survive and continue to evade the pursuing Cylons (the eponymous Battlestar Galactica is the only military ship among them, and thus is solely responsible for defense). The battle lines become ever more indeterminate, however, as intimacy and kinship between humans and Cylons, as well as dissent and enmity among humans and Cylons, gradually unfold.

Central to this trajectory is the twist (an upgrade from the 1978 concept) that the robot insurgents infiltrated the Colonies by synthesizing their own cyborg impostors who, like the artificial intelligences of Turing's Imitation Game, are able to "pass" as human through perfect mimicry. There are twelve models of these "humanform" Cylons, with unlimited clones of each, and it is an alluring Model Six who is sent in undercover to seduce senior scientist Gaius Baltar and thus bring down Colonial defense systems. Apparently made of flesh and blood, these "skin jobs" eat, sweat, think, pray, feel pain, have sex, and are extremely difficult to detect (although at one point Baltar implements a specialized biological test, Cylon models are more often "outed" when multiple copies are spotted). Their provenance and makeup remains ambiguous; while their bodies can interface with computer networks, while their anatomy is vulnerable to a machine virus, and while their spines glow dubiously red during orgasm, their technological components are evidently too well camouflaged to show up on conventional scans. Moreover, humans and Cylons alike wrestle with associated questions of self-determination: are these "toasters" creatures of programming or free will? can different copies of the same model be fully individual? can Cylons truly experience emotions like love? By presenting the status of these pivotal figures as decidedly indefinite, both in terms of their material constitution and in terms of their autonomy, Battlestar Galactica illustrates the instability that the hybrid introduces into supposedly fixed categories like human and machine. As Turing proposes, what conclusive criteria could there be for humanity beyond the ability to flawlessly imitate it? It is this tension -- between the preservationist imperative to categorically divide and demarcate and the treacherous ecology of hybridity -- that fuels the narrative engine of this critically acclaimed cult television hit. Its heterogeneous, unresolved meditations on processes of self- and species reproduction and evolution are a powerful instrument of the program's own perpetuation.

III/2/A Be Fruitful

Battlestar Galactica's narratives often revolve around the problem of reproduction, in multiple literal and figurative senses. Its very premise, a machine uprising, is an object lesson about reproduction gone runaway: any attempt to contain the propagation of a dynamic system, any attempt (whether heteronormative or human-normative) to limit its development into greater degrees of complexity and hybridity, is likely to go awry. The program's ardent audience suggests a similar moral about the fragility of technological control and corresponding survival tactics. While the Colonial Fleet adopts a restrictive scheme, forbidding computer networks because they're vulnerable to Cylon hacks, Battlestar Galactica's Powers That Be open their textual networks to fandom's hive mind, harnessing its procreative excess to drive a web of modes and sites of engagement. Diegetically, BSG struggles with this as yet unsettled interplay between conventional discipline and more fluid strategies of mediation. In terms of reproduction itself, the program has certainly been criticized for a reactionary fixation on the heterosexual couple and its procreative potential. Weighed down by President Laura Roslin's running whiteboard tally of humanity's remaining numbers, the Colonials adopt a recognizably conservative reproductive politics in their post-apocalyptic desperation to make the total go up rather than down (going so far as to ban abortion, for example). Cylons, for their part, as monotheistic religious fundamentalists, believe their god has commanded them to "be fruitful," a conviction that inspires various initiatives to birth a Cylon-human hybrid heir, from nightmarish "farms" where humans are held captive for breeding purposes to a ploy to ensnare Karl "Helo" Agathon (a Fleet officer) in a loving relationship with Sharon (a Model Eight) to make a baby the old fashioned way. However, these orthodox diagrams inevitably unravel into far more complex and ambiguous familial networks: Sharon falls in love with Helo in earnest and defects from the Cylon cause to be with him; Lieutenant Kara "Starbuck" Thrace must grapple with her role in the life of a toddler the Cylons claim is her daughter, whether the baby is the product of her violation in the farms or of a ruse that leaves them with no blood ties; even the most traditional family -- Specialist Cally, Chief Tyrol, and their son Nicky -- are revealed to be part Cylon when the Chief is outed at the end of season three. Thus, the predicament the program raises -- how to evolve while controlling runaway reproductive energies -- remains unresolved, as familiar hierarchies of containment are challenged while the outcome of the heterarchies that multiply in their place remains to be seen. And the same could be said for the developing system of televisual reproduction, Battlestar Galactica's extratextual ecology, as it attempts to spawn hybrid offspring which could lead television to a new homeland or to a final apocalypse.

Reproduction is a question of media technology: to make a copy requires a means of transmitting an encoded identity from the old body to the new. As with any transmission or iteration, this gap is dangerous to fantasies of presence or unity. BSG's Colonial Fleet contends with problems of inscription and deciphering: how to maintain historical memory and records after the holocaust; how to legitimize and register one true account of guilt and innocence; how to translate the map to their promised land which is coded in myths and oracles, in holy texts, and in the stars themselves. If the Cylons appear as a mortal threat to humanity, it is perhaps because of their superhuman facility at copying: like fans, who can interface with and share a vast digital archive at will, Cylons can jack into their machines and "download" their consciousness upon death. The heart of their ships is a "Hybrid": an ethereally beautiful humanform biomass integrated into its data conduits. While the human leaders are attempting to interpret sacred stories, Cylon gurus are listening for prophetic messages that might be encrypted in the Hybrid's babble, the nonsensical stream-of-consciousness of the computer itself. And yet these advanced technologies are not without their limitations: from what we know of them, Cylons have no "live" linkup with each other that would allow them to communicate wirelessly and in realtime. As per the stipulations of the archival mechanism, information must always be embodied -- literally, here, in a humanform body (while there are many copies of each model, a unique identity can be materialized in only one copy at a time). Violence is indelible, its memory transmitted from one painful download to the next like trauma inscribed on the unconscious (Freud's "mystic writing pad"). The Cylon body is itself a medium, and to network with each other Cylons seem to operate by touch, placing their hands into a liquid datastream to communicate. This corporeal intimacy can evidently bring pleasure as well as agony, judging from the Hybrid's orgasmic expression when instructed to initiate the ship's faster-than-light jump; it is a small step from haptics to erotics. The deferral inherent to mediation structurally mirrors the deferral inherent to desire, and the necessary intercession of a material substrate means that desire will always be reaching through bodies when it yearns to touch unmediated information (Three kills herself repeatedly as a spiritual journey, in hopes that in the instant of disembodiment between one form and the next she will see truth). In this yearning, in their vain quests to find stable meanings, identities, and lineages, humans and Cylons come to share common ground. Industry and fans likewise cohabit the conditions of embodied media formations, with their circulatory passages where promiscuous relations, mongrels, and runaways can germinate, but their reproductive doctrines and tactics may still be at war.

III/2/B Skin Jobs

Since these negotiations of reproduction and desire are rooted in media technologies, it is fitting that, in Battlestar Galactica's symbology, most figures of danger and deviance are displaced onto the mediated bodies of the Cylons. We could view Cylons through the lens of technicity, which references taxonomies that are analogous to ethnicity, but derived based on technological variations. This move operates bilaterally, reconfiguring historically anterior categories of racial and ethnic otherness in terms of technological difference (this is a typical procedure in science fiction), as well as overlaying emerging technological threats and anxieties with familiar racial and ethnic discourses. Because race (as opposed to, say, sexual orientation) is traditionally rendered as natural, physical, or essential, it has been difficult (though certainly not impossible) to reconcile with a postmodern model of identity as fluid, performative, and socially constructed. The intervention of technicity enables the Cylons to stand in for this tension within a world that diegetically excludes racial inequality proper. They are explicitly racialized (when Six denounces "toaster" as a "racist" epithet, for instance, or when their vulnerability to a machine virus biologizes their absolute difference from humans), but at the same time attempts to stabilize the categorical distinction between human and Cylon continually break down, compromising the purity of any such demarcation. The Cylons are thus a paradigmatic example of the economy of technicity, and the program carries the concept even further by exploring inter-technic relationships and offspring, such as the Agathon family (Helo, Sharon, and their hybrid child Hera). Now, the conversion from ethnicity to technicity is never complete, and the persistence of racial vision means that troubling ideologies surface across BSG's multiethnic cast and often symptomatic mise-en-scene. Nonetheless, the overdetermined soup of symbolic material on offer sets us afloat on a rich reservoir of telling and ambivalent affinities.

A case in point being the ways that, given how Cylons encode all vectors of difference on the program, various dimensions of ambiguity have a tendency to coincide and blend in fan interpretations. One example is Felix Gaeta, a young and handsome tactical officer who has inexplicably never been drawn into the soap operatic sexual networks that drive many of his peers' storylines; he is portrayed by Alessandro Juliani, who is reportedly of Italian and Chinese descent, and within our extratextual context appears decidedly on the outskirts of whiteness. Fans have long speculated that Gaeta is one of the unrevealed Cylon models, no doubt in part because there is no diegetic framework for his distinctiveness except technicity; meanwhile, his queerness has become such an open secret that even other BSG actors will joke that Gaeta is gay (both these readings play out in large part via Gaeta's highly charged relationship with effete Cylon-lover Gaius Baltar). Hermeneutic outbreaks like these highlight the absurdity of Ron Moore's apologia, when asked about the program's conspicuous dearth of gay characters: "I think homosexuality definitely exists in the world of Galactica, but I frankly haven't found a way to portray it yet" (27 July 2006) -- as if Moore could assert his authority over the excess transmissibility of texts, as if he could possibly avoid portraying the non-normative desires that erupt at every turn. Galactica accommodates a military culture that is relentlessly egalitarian, complete with co-ed uniforms, quarters, and washrooms, while the civilian government is plagued by controversial sexual politics (such as abortion) familiar to US audiences from our own anti-gay "religious right." Nonetheless, among BSG's humans, these gendered elements seem only ever explicitly to resolve into heterosexual romances and conflicts. The Cylons, as a mechanism for mediating all forms of otherness, provide a ready enclave for representing deviance.

On one hand, Battlestar Galactica makes a good faith essay at offering, through its elaboration of Cylon society and subjectivity, a queer phantasmagoria that calls hegemonic mores into question. Lucy Lawless (who plays Model Three) described her character's liberated perspective: "Cylons haven't attached some sort of morality to nudity and sexuality and all that stuff, and they're extremely experimental" (ComicCon). On the other hand, this move marks sexual "experimentation" as categorically alien, confined to the program's presumptive "bad guys." In the battle that ends the Cylon occupation of New Caprica, this perverse collective takes custody of baby Hera: found by her supposed spiritual parents Six and Gaius amidst the carnage, she is handed off to Three, who was linked to her in dreams and by a human prophecy that the child will teach her love, and subsequently Boomer (another Model Eight, like Sharon Agathon, Hera's birth mother) becomes her primary caretaker. This unconventional kinship network sets the stage for an onscreen manifestation of lesbian desire in the form of a triadic romance between Three, Six, and Gaius. While the three are scandalously shown sleeping naked together, and while Six is eventually dumped by both partners, Six and Three express meaningful intimacies that take this plot beyond cliché titillation. However, such non-procreative relations trouble reproduction even within the unrepressed Cylon family. Three's desires for corporeal and divine communion threaten the replication of Cylon-kind enough that she is condemned to their version of death for her depravity. The Cylons' organic breeding project is equally flummoxed by the multiplication of mothers, as evidenced when Hera falls ill under their care, and only a return to her biological parents offers hope for a cure. So, while the fluid and prolific resonances of technicity open the Cylon narrative to alternative passions and bonds, heteronormative containment is also in operation. Queer representation thus resembles a protocological negotiation, circumscribed by discursive and material affordances but tested by excess vitality, and, as with all emergent systems, its ultimate complexities cannot be predicted in advance.

III/2/C Hera Has Six Mommies

The alternative families that self-organize around Hera are one example of how normative reproductive schemas (among the synthetic Cylons, who are plagued by infertility, only a man and a woman in a loving relationship are able to bear children) can unravel into multiply cathected webs. Cylons Six, Three, Boomer and Sharon aren't Hera's only mothers; preceding their guardianship, before she is even born, this messianic baby is tied by blood to President Laura Roslin, who is miraculously cured of cancer on her deathbed by a transfusion of hybrid fetal cells. This is to say that the synergies of mediation work in reverse as well: if information is embodied, than biology is also a code, and one more transmissible between species than either humans or Cylons might like to admit. When blood becomes a life-giving inoculation, Hera's hybridity is rendered backwards compatible, diffusing retroactively into the older generation. Like this somatic vitality, love circulates increasingly across boundaries, complete with its own technologies of dissemination. For instance, Six and Gaius, another Cylon-human couple, turn to theological texts, symptomatic visions, and the Hybrid's raw data to interpret the place of their bond in the cosmic ecology, as Six tries to inculcate the humans with her newfound credo of peace. Fans' passion for Battlestar Galactica is analogously inter-species, and likewise its promiscuous propagation transgresses borders, capacitated by a distinctive media apparatus.

In the previous chapter, I explored epistemological procedures for investigating undisclosed desires. Here, my focus is a technology in the fan's toolkit: a spectatorial mechanism known colloquially as "slash goggles." This witticism evoking specialized eyewear (mine are always big, round, and pink) is a metaphor for a queer mode of viewing that interfaces with television's contradictions, excesses, gaps, and fragments – the orphans of its reproductive overabundance. Like Hera, who gains many more mothers when her parents lose her, these remnants often end up with a surplus rather than a dearth of willing guardians. The rich residue can take a number of forms, mobilized in erratic combinations and not limited to:
  • characterization: including the overdetermined cultural codes that we all use, however unjustifiably, to read the stereotypical markers of sexuality in appearance, accessories, and mannerisms
  • mise-en-scene: how characters are shot, framed, lit, scored, etc.
  • performance: the wealth of non-verbal information loosely gathered under the umbrella of "subtext" (how close a duo stand together, the duration and the weight of their gazes...)
  • narrative: the explicit plot and dialogue elements, especially intrigue or emotion that is not fully elaborated, and extending to the more indirect connections between characters, which may remain vital even when shared screentime is limited (the love triangle being a classic example of a geometry that often links characters of the same gender)
  • metatext: the whole constellation of extra-diegetic minutia and speculation that permeates interpretive communities (as only one of the infinite details: the fact that Lucy Lawless is best known for her role as the eponymous lesbian icon in Xena: Warrior Princess, rendering her BSG character Three to some degree pre-queered)
Such free-flowing bounty is endemic to media's volatile passages of transmission, and it is impossible to arrest the non-normative currents within a massively intricate discursive network. While different sources offer different figures to the dynamic feedback loops between text and audience, accounting for some of the obvious variation in popularity among slash fandoms, the requisite components are idiosyncratic and highly variable. While slash goggles, an ocular prosthesis that mediates the proliferation of fans' desires, aren't necessarily at odds with the industry's economy, there is no guarantee that these bespectacled cyborgs won't rise up against their masters.

Hera is herself at the heart of a multivalent matrix of affinities that is the battleground for a campaign to populate the future. President Roslin ordains the genesis of a new family for Hera when she secrets the newborn away from Helo and Sharon and gives custody to a foster mother, Maya, with the collusion of Roslin's trusted advisor Tory Foster. This arrangement is thus authorized under presidential control, while nonetheless venturing outside the control of closed lineages of biology and parentage; it's already, in this sense, a queer family. To look at one similarly non-linear narrative orphan through our (girl)slash goggles: season two of Battlestar Galactica closed with a disconnected 20-minute segment previewing life on the New Caprica settlement "one year later" in the program's timeline. With explanation of the political and interpersonal configurations implied here deferred over the summer hiatus, this stray scenario offered a fertile medium for the cultivation of fans' desires, and for their preemptive reimaginings of the lost year. A 90-second scene of Roslin and Maya co-teaching and, as many conjectured, co-parenting at the settlement's school is a case in point. This quasi-domestic tableau is ripe with disproportionate intimacy, in large part because, instead of the typical shot-reverse-shot structure, the conversation is edited with both women in the frame, standing close and touching easily. The triangulation of this familiarity through their concurrent kinship with Hera, even or especially in such a minute installment, spawned a full-blown and deeply invested maternal lesbian romance between Roslin and Maya – in the vision of certain fans.

This dyad was amplified in season three by equally fleeting scenes that projected Tory into Roslin's inner circle during the missing year planet-side and thereafter, and this storyline bred its own orphans in turn. In the podcast for the episode "Collaborators," for example, producer Ron Moore describes shooting a subplot wherein Tory betrays Roslin politically, feeding information to her rival that results in underground executions. When these events were cut during the production process, the remaining interactions between Roslin and Tory were sutured back together around the death of Maya and the loss of Hera, whose escape Tory was supposed to help orchestrate. The fervor of Tory's emotional apology exceeds the pared down narrative basis of its reorganized timeline, and this overflowing intensity, screened by the goggles' optical algorithm, materializes as love -- the love of these women for the child, for her adoptive mother, and for each other. Fostering this prophetic and apocalyptic baby, outside the bounds of an authorized origin story, is what brings Roslin, Maya, and Tory together within the program. In parallel, this frayed maternal thread provides the seam for similarly unauthorized modes of seeing and desiring among queer fan families. Tory's status as a conduit for unnatural passions then reverberates further when she is outed as one of the final five Cylons at the end of season three, in keeping with technicity's queer resonances. Thus, as I hope I've demonstrated, the implications of such formations aren't confined to the diegesis: the narratives of Battlestar Galactica are one dimension in a dynamic heterarchy that embodies an interactive struggle among industry and fan producers over the evolution of television.