I was in a group with the 1970 Census in gymnasium this morning. The first page instructs you how to fill in the circles, then says, “The electronic computer reads every circle you fill.” (For whatever reason, this was incredibly hilarious to all of us in the group. When we shared it with the other group we joined up with, they seemed generally unamused.) The second thing that strikes me about this quote (after the general Big Brother tone of the computer reading EVERY CIRCLE) is how redundant “electronic computer” feels to me. If there’s such a thing as an electronic computer, what is an analog computer?

Naturally, I turned to the OED. (Rest assured, I use the word “naturally” sarcastically on at least two levels.) Lo and behold, the first definition of computer is: “One who computes; a calculator, reckoner; spec. a person employed to make calculations in an observatory, in surveying, etc.” So it turns out that the analog computers were the people who processed all the census data before the all-reading electronic computer was brought into the process.

I realize that this definition of computer is quite limited – a person who computes. But I have some exciting (to me) thoughts about humans as computers. First of all, in a non-Foucauldian sense, an electronic computer is a type of technology. I would like to propose that every person is an analog computer. We’re all part of these complex technologies (this time, I mean it in a Foucauldian sense) and apparatuses of sexuality and gender Perhaps in a way, we are all computers, observing and surveying (unconsciously) the discourses around us and calculating and computing what techniques of the self to use to negotiate these discourses. After all, computers have gotten pretty good at playing chess . . .

Clearly, this idea is not very well fleshed out, but I wanted to get it down in my “ideabank” before it leaves my mind.