treatment of machines in the waste land

In the tale of the typist, in The Waste Land, Eliot makes clear that the typist has no will; she is “indifferent,” and “hardly aware,” and the two seem connected to her “automatic” motion. More interesting to me, however, is the action of the lover, the man the majority of our class felt was a rapist.


He is “patronising” upon leaving, which would indicate that although he is aware of her lack of desire – that he knows her “indifference” is not in his favor. The typist never resists, though. She never makes a negative motion; indeed, she makes no motion at all. She never exercises her will, never seeks to control her circumstances. Her actions are automatic, robotic, machine-like, and he treats her as such.


The question I would raise, and which I believe Eliot is raising through this passage, is whether the atrophy of will is simultaneously the atrophy of humanity. On the basest level, it is necessary to show consideration for the impact an individual’s actions will have on others. If those others are not capable of feeling, of being affected by one’s actions, or at the very least not capable of voicing their concerns, do they still deserve consideration? Do their desires, their preferences, still matter, at least in the context of how their preferences impact our decisions?


Eliot does not deign to answer this question directly; rather, his example of the typist points out that whether or not the lover is morally in the wrong for caressing the typist with the knowledge that his “caresses” are “undesired,” the action is still carried through. This is a key point – the lover continues to act. Where are the repercussions for his violation? Where are the checks to his desires? If she would speak, the typist would say no, but she does not speak, and so he continues – and this is no one-time occurrence, for he is an “expected guest.”


There can be no morality in this new world because although all of us are humans, not all of us have that intangible quality of the will. Those of us who do can hold our own, can speak out, but those who do not are indistinguishable in the “crowd”; these machines walk, talk, and look like us, but they are susceptible to the same violation as the typist – their preferences effectively mean nothing for they cannot express their will upon reality.


In a sense, this de-humanization speaks more about those who do have will than those who do not. How do we treat our machines? How do we, who have the ability to make and carry through decisions, treat those lesser than us, who cannot speak up for themselves? From the point of view of absolute morality, we rape them. But in reality, if an issue is intangible, without visible symptoms, and its sufferers do not voice their pain, the healthy cannot be blamed for failing to take the appropriate action.