Julie Kimmel for their encouragement and conversation. A Philadelphia University Research and Design grant helped expand my research through funding interviews conducted with scientists using the scanning tunneling microscope (STM) during 2005 and 2006. I am deeply grateful for the generosity, time, and good will of those scientists who agreed to be interviewed for this project. Thanks also go to the members of the Philadelphia-area nano-studies reading group for their intellectual support, insights, and discussions of things nano and beyond, including a few of this book’s topics in earlier stages.
A slightly modified form of parts of Chapter 4 and the conclusion originally appeared in Science Communication (“Amidst Nanotechnology’s Molecular Landscapes: The Changing Trope of Subvisible Worlds,” Science Communication, 34.1 (2012): 57–83. Pre-published May 19, 2011 (DOI: 10.1177/1075547011401630)). I am grateful to the editor, Susanna Hornig Priest, and the anonymous reviewers for their guidance. An earlier version of the argument in Chapter 3 appeared in a different form in Augenblick (“Nature as Database? Microscope Images’ Impact on Visual Cultures of the Natural World,” Augenblick, 45 (2009): 9–25). I thank the guest editor, Angela Krewani, for inviting me to be part of that production. This book’s development also benefited from a fellowship as part of the ZiF Research Group, “Science in the Context of Application: Methodological Change, Conceptual Transformation, Cultural Reorientation,” at Zentrum für interdisziplinäre Forschung (Center for Interdisciplinary Research), and I thank the other fellows and organizers of that fellowship. A few ideas developed in Chapter 3 appear in a different, earlier form in in my contribution to Science Transformed? Debating Claims of an Epochal Break, edited by Alfred Nordmann, Hans Radder and Gregor Schiemann (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2011). Parts of this book’s arguments were also presented at conferences and other presentations, including those at the ZiF, the Annual Meetings of the Society for the Social Studies of Science (4S), the European Association for the Study of Science and Technology (EASST) Conferences, Conferences on College Composition and Communication (CCCCs), and Imaging and Imagining NanoScience and Engineering: An International and Interdisciplinary Conference. I thank audience members for their feedback and responses. I also am deeply grateful to David Blakesley and Marguerite Helmers at Parlor Press for their feedback and support, and to the anonymous reviewer whose comments and suggestions markedly improved this book.
Other support, material and emotional, was provided by so many to whom I am so grateful: A tremendous thank you to all my family and friends for conversation, patience, love, understanding, and enthusiasm as this project developed.
Introduction: Imaging and Imagining Science in the Information Age
The Information Age incarnates itself in the eye.
—Ivan Illich
In Greg Bear’s 1985 and 1988 science fiction novels, Eon and Eternity, humans from the distant future communicate through a mix of speaking, gesturing, and “picting,” where the communicator projects stylized images above her or his shoulder from a torque-shaped machine worn around the neck. In Bear’s narrative, this multi-modal communication surprises humans from the near future as they encounter their distant descendants; the use of “picting” while speaking likely seemed far-fetched to Bear’s readers in the 1980s. However, as I write this book in the early twenty-first century, with my camera phone in my pocket and my laptop with its graphic user interface on my desk, the use of images to communicate has become ubiquitous. In fact, Bear’s envisioned form of communication seems not only plausible today, but also imminent—just a small step from texting with emoji or using Snapchat.
A few years after the publication of Bear’s science fiction novels, two scientists, D. M. Eigler and E. K. Schweizer, published a series of six images (see Figure 1) in an article in the April 5, 1990 issue of Nature. Like Bear’s form of communication, Eigler and Schweizer’s images intermingle text, picture, and (atomic) bodily movement to communicate; in the case of Eigler and Schweizer’s images, the purpose is to demonstrate the scientist’s ability to manipulate thirty-five individual xenon atoms and arrange the atoms to form the letters “IBM” on a nickel surface. At the time, Eigler and Schweizer’s images created a stir among scientists and others; the images also spurred interest in an emerging field of science and technology: nanotechnology.1 The fact that Eigler and Schweizer communicate what we can see and do with atoms in images forms part of a larger message about the important role of visualizations in shaping and communicating scientific knowledge. While the “IBM” images were published a few decades ago, the message that nanoscale images such as Eigler and Schweizer’s sends is still relevant today to both scientific and non-scientific audiences. The “IBM” images communicate—and communicate persuasively—about nanotechnology: as the images do so, the “IBM” images affect both the content and function of scientific discourses. Further, Eigler and Schweizer’s images form a part of the broader cultural trends in imaging occasioned by the widespread adoption of digital images to communicate—trends that make Bear’s vision of communication seem right around the corner.
Haptic Visions is about reading messages conveyed about the nanoscale and image use generally, with a particular focus on the rhetorical interactions among images, ourselves, and the material world. More specifically, this book explores how visualizations like Eigler and Schweizer’s form persuasive elements in arguments about manipulation and interaction at the atomic scale. Haptic Visions also analyzes how arguments about atomic interaction expressed in images of the nanoscale affect our understanding of nanotechnology, as well as what visualizations like the “IBM” images imply about how digital images and scientific visualization technologies, such as the one that Eigler and Schweizer used (the scanning tunneling microscope or STM), help constitute arguments. While digital imaging and nanotechnology are relatively new developments, what is significant for rhetoricians is not the newness of these two developments, per se. Instead, what is important is that the conventions, practices, and even the significance of both digital imaging and nanotechnology are still in flux. The intersection of digital imaging and nanotechnology thus becomes a site for exploring what becomes persuasive within a developing technology of visual communication—and how then that persuasive communication affects developing scientific and technical fields like nanotechnology.
Figure 1. Six images showing the assembly of the letters I, B, and M. Reprinted by permission from Macmillan Publishers, Ltd.: Nature (Eigler, D. M. and E. K. Schweizer, “Positioning Single Atoms with a Scanning Tunneling Microscope,” Nature 344 (April 1990): 525); © 1990.
Why Nanotechnology?
What and how the “IBM” images argue about nanotechnology is important for rhetoric as well as for science: Eigler and Schweizer’s demonstration spurred not only excitement and wild visions of the future,2 but also arguments for serious and funded research in nanotechnology,3 an emerging field in which researchers from various disciplines—including physics, chemistry, and engineering—study and manipulate phenomena at the nanoscale, the level of single atoms and small molecules.4 Indeed, the demonstration of atomic manipulation embedded in the “IBM” images forms a topos, or commonplace, in arguments justifying nanotechnology. Science policy justifications for the establishment and funding of this new field,5 as well as arguments directed towards a popular audience, mention Eigler and Schweizer’s demonstration. As historians of science Cyrus C. M. Mody and Michael Lynch observe, while a small proportion of the work in nanotechnology involves manipulating individual atoms, some of the examples of manipulation have become well-known (Mody and Lynch 431, note 19). Demonstrations of atomic manipulation have continued. For example, in May 2013, IBM released the stop-action film, A Boy and His Atom, as an advertisement for the company’s atomic data storage capabilities. To make the film, which shows a stick-figure boy playing with a ball and then jumping on a trampoline, a research team arranged individual carbon monoxide molecules to form the boy, the ball, and the trampoline, as well as the words “think” and “IBM,” all illustrating the researchers’ sustained ability for precise manipulation (A
