The Machine as Mythology
Authors: Benneworth Paul 
Published: October 2020

Machinofacture, computer control and globalisation have created the appearance that in the relation between humanity and the machine the human possesses ever-deepening power. However, this is a very Whiggish view of the history of science and technology as a field of ever-expanding knowledge. History is littered with examples of technologies which have been abandoned as out-dated, then later attempts to revive them have failed because the expertise has been lost. Technology is not merely a reflection of human needs, but an embodiment of the human condition.
Machines can be seen as products of their creator, but in the case of long-lived machines they can out-live their creator whilst embodying some of their expertise and their failings. If there is a human need for that lost experience contained within the machine, then there is a form of remote power exercised through the machine. Although the machine can be owned, and the owner 'controls' the machine, it is not a deity-subject (uni-directional) relation; the machine may fail -- because the master does not understand the processes of the machine, there is no way to enforce the power of ownership.
This potential for control loss has resonances with the 'Frankenstein syndrome' where the fear is that humanity could unleash something beyond its control. This fear has found recent expression in the debate about genetically-modified (GM) foods in Europe, taking place not over the results of scientific tests; indeed the debate precedes those tests and concerns the effects of releasing them from the direct (space-time) control by humans in laboratories.
Frankenstein's monster and GM-foods share the common trait that both are organic, and it makes more sense that a sentient or at least living object could upset the human-object power relation. The inanimate analogue of this (e.g. the golem of Jewish folklore) has a much weaker hold over popular consciousnesses. Asimov 'built' his robots with the laws of robotics to prevent upsetting the hegemony of human over machine. Even huge advances recently in computing power, neural networks and artificial intelligence have come nowhere near producing an Asimov robot with the freedom to have and exercise power over humanity. However, there are other more mundane and diffuse ways that machines can have power over humans.
The company Joyce-Loebl, based in the North East of England, from the 1950s to the 1970s built thousands of microdensitometers, and through the effort of its sales teams sold them all over the world. The company was like a family; little was done in the way of formal drawings -- even the machinists were highly skilled and exercised great initiative; the 'secrets' of the machine were passed through incredibly elaborate apprenticeships, and were diffused into many individuals in a range of trades.
The machine's inventor described it in correspondence thus: "many scientific measurements result in a series of darkened bars similar to a barcode. To interpret these bars it is necessary to measure their density. The microdensitometer does this by balancing the signal from the bars with light passing through an optical wedge. This balancing technique gives great accuracy".
These machines did not embody absolute power of humans over machines; they came about only because the highly place-specific and combined efforts of a number of highly-skilled complementary craftsmen. At a time when the region was said to be "good for the nearest inch" (i.e. good at shipbuilding) the company made instruments that were "good to the nearest thousandth [of an inch]" (i.e. as precise as clockwork).
Loebl, in his forthcoming memoirs, relates a number of examples where the microdensitometer conferred the power to influence human life even when it was notionally under anthropological control. It found a crashed moon probe from a lunar satellite photograph when all other analyses had failed, and allowed him, as a one-time refugee from the Nazis, to snub the apartheid regime by refusing to sell machines to South African firms. More palpably, it disproved the evidence in a murder appeal where the machine 'proved' that the rope submitted as evidence could not have produced the marks on the neck of the strangulated wife (legal power). Although the machine required an operator to use, in common with many technologies today, there is a separation between the knowledge necessary to manufacture the microdensitometer, and that required to make it carry out it designated functions.
It appeared for a time as if microdensitometers were a commodity to be bought and sold; humans controlled them absolutely through determining where they were located. The appearance of absolute control only arose out of a particular techno-economic configuration particular to the 1960s, dependent on the mass-production and mass marketing of the machine. When this configuration disintegrated, so the balance of power shifted towards the machine.
Joyce-Loebl broke up in the 1980s; technologies moved towards analytic software rather than electro-mechanical measurement; the skills of craftsmen were lost; the instrument teams drifted. Electronic instrument standardisation and the effects of the PC on software seemed to spell the end for analogue hardware. However, the microdensitometer remains the most precise instrument for the measurement of grey scale on photograph emulsions, yet the skills to produce microdensitometers have been lost. The Soviets tried for over a decade to reverse engineer the machine, even copying faults in a screw thread, but the machine steadfastly 'refused' to be copied, and the imitation would not work (geopolitical power). One film-manufacturing multi-national firm has paid thousands of pounds for the refurbishment of one such device from the 1970s (commercial power). The device is still in use in scientific, medical and engineering installations world-wide (technical power).
Joyce-Loebl broke up in the 1980s; technologies moved towards analytic software rather than electro-mechanical measurement; the skills of craftsmen were lost; the instrument teams drifted. Electronic instrument standardisation and the effects of the PC on software seemed to spell the end for analogue hardware. However, the microdensitometer remains the most precise instrument for the measurement of grey scale on photograph emulsions, yet the skills to produce microdensitometers have been lost. The Soviets tried for over a decade to reverse engineer the machine, even copying faults in a screw thread, but the machine steadfastly 'refused' to be copied, and the imitation would not work (geopolitical power). One film-manufacturing multi-national firm has paid thousands of pounds for the refurbishment of one such device from the 1970s (commercial power). The device is still in use in scientific, medical and engineering installations world-wide (technical power).
Value is not identical to power, but arises in the independence the machines have as bearers of the skills of their creators. It is not just the skill embodied in those machines, but the machines arise because of the particular contingency of their creation. Although design conventions can exist, machines are purposively designed and manufactured, the outcomes of these processes affecting their final state. The machine is not just the creature its maker desires, but like Frankenstein's Monster, emerges from a struggle to shape the raw materials to the designer's ends, and records that struggle for posterity.
In the case of the micro-densitometer, understanding the reasons for the precise arrangement of the various optics, mechanisms, metal and electronics is impossible. However, in the machine lies a series of messages about the context of the creation of the machine. The North East of England is a declining industrial region; the machine can be read as a recipe for creating material success in a high-technology industry in the North East even given the absence of contemporary activity -- 'assemble a range of disparate craft skills, make a branded product, sell globally, find new avenues for your skill base'.
Mythology has served a similar purpose in a number of ancient civilisations. To westerners raised on an abstract, Kiplingesque diet of 'native tales' providing neat explanations of natural phenomena, these myths might appear pointless, but even today, in their context of a particular location, contain highly encoded cultural information for survival and edification (e.g. Australian Aboriginal peoples). The power of these myths provided access to extensive micro-zoological and anthropological observation and understanding without necessarily understanding why.
The Joyce-Loebl microdensitometer came out of particular situation in the economy of the North East of England which has materially all but vanished. Messrs. Joyce and Loebl built a company making branded equipment selling worldwide, in a way that was and is supposed to be impossible for a heavy industrial region, whose cultural traits of the industrial structure are supposed to endure in the communitarian and anti-entrepreneurial aspirations of the working classes. However, the microdensitometer challenges the notion that the North East was only a centre of heavy industry, but was once somewhere where instruments of beauty and purpose were fashioned and sold.
The Joyce-Loebl microdensitometer came out of particular situation in the economy of the North East of England which has materially all but vanished. Messrs. Joyce and Loebl built a company making branded equipment selling worldwide, in a way that was and is supposed to be impossible for a heavy industrial region, whose cultural traits of the industrial structure are supposed to endure in the communitarian and anti-entrepreneurial aspirations of the working classes. However, the microdensitometer challenges the notion that the North East was only a centre of heavy industry, but was once somewhere where instruments of beauty and purpose were fashioned and sold.
Just as the Story of the Dreaming explains that "storytelling, while explaining the past, helps young Indigenous Australians maintain dignity and self-respect in the present", there is a modern role for past machines in helping the inhabitants of declining industrial regions maintain their dignity and sustain themselves economically into the future. Much of the debate about industrial renewal in the UK has recently focussed around the notion of the knowledge economy in the abstract form; the microdensitometer is the embodiment of how a knowledge economy can be created.
This suggests three potential ways of understanding a machine beyond the delivery of a piece of technological functionality within a production paradigm. A machine can at once have and exercise technological, political and cultural power when the constraints of its control are removed. This brings us back to the starting point of the article, the idea of the Frankenstein monster, who demonstrated a highly spectacular specific physical power; in a modern(-ist?) reality, the power of many 'rogue machines' (those beyond tight contextual control) is entirely more mundane, diffuse and abstract, yet represents a real influence on life experiences in the modern world.

Citation reference for this article
MLA style:

Paul Benneworth. "The Machine as Mythology -- The Case of the Joyce-Loebl Microdensitometer." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.6 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9909/micro.php>.

Chicago style:

Paul Benneworth, "The Machine as Mythology -- The Case of the Joyce-Loebl Microdensitometer," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 6 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9909/micro.php> ([your date of access]).

APA style:

Paul Benneworth. (1999) The machine as mythology -- the case of the Joyce-Loebl microdensitometer. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(6). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9909/micro.php> ([your date of access]).