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without permission; however, this controlling interest in its publication was closer
to a moral right than to a property right (Rose 1993: 18).
28. An idiom authors borrowed from stationers (printers and booksellers). The latter
had long argued that their copies (property that was at once the manuscript and the
right to multiply copies of a particular title) were the equivalent of other people™s
estates. Rose (1993: 40) cites the Company of Stationers™ petition of 1643 which
pleaded that ˜there is no reason apparent why the production of the Brain should
not be as assignable [sellable] . . . as the right of any Goods or Chattells™.
177
NOTES TO PAGES 5 9“60


29. Opposers of this view argued that there could be no property without the thing,
the corpus (Rose 1993: 70; also Woodmansee 1994: 49“50). The debate rumbles on.
Whether or not copyright can be property is still sometimes questioned; this is
partly because of its unusual legal status (it exists not in fact but only in law, it
can be infringed but not stolen and rather than being a thing that is protected for
as long as it exists it suddenly ceases to exist at the end of a set term), but partly
because ˜a sizeable body of otherwise intelligent persons . . . argue from the mistaken
premise that something cannot be truly “property” unless it is solid and has the
attributes of a physical presence™ (Phillips and Firth 1990: 107). But a caveat must be
registered: what constitutes a thing will shift not just across historical periods but
across disciplines; for a commentary on Rose™s treatment see Sherman and Bently
(1999: Chapter 2). They also make clear the extent to which the concept of ˜creativity™
has its own complex history.
30. Said in the context of an analysis of continuity between the generations. ˜For patri-
archalists inheritance mattered because the right to rule was transmitted from father
to son. For liberals it was the mechanism through which property was transferred,
and property was the basis of political rights™ (Jordanova 1995: 375).
31. It is Rose himself who extrapolates here, and says that the analogy could never have
got very far when the issue of authors™ rights turned to the pursuit of pro¬t in the
marketplace. However, another historian notes (Jordanova 1995: 378): ˜Many eigh-
teenth century commentators did indeed see production as a form of reproduction;
they could therefore conceptualise children as commodities™, although she quali-
¬es this by also likening them to capital, that is, something in which parents invest.
(Conceptualise is not the same as realise ; the issue is the kind of space that ideas create
for one another. Children were thought about through many other idioms too. As
Jordanova comments, ˜reproductive processes and products were imaginative spaces
that could be ¬lled up in a variety of ways™ [1995: 379].)
32. Though there are some striking current day and not dissimilar instances of combined
positions held with no dif¬culty at all. Within the compass of one sentence, in refer-
ence to indigenous rights: ˜Indigenous people have shared this knowledge freely in
the past [they circulate it without recompense] and have rarely received proper com-
pensation or recognition for it [they ought to receive recompense]™ (1997 Guidelines
for environmental assessements and traditional knowledge, Report to World Council
of Indigenous Peoples, Centre for Traditional Knowledge, Toronto, Canada).
33. If I were to write that it was the way in which the text is distinctively moulded and
shaped (so the text not the volume becomes the ˜body™) that was being seized upon,
it would be with an uncanny sense of d´ j` vu in so far as similar phrasing has been
ea
used in a locus classicus of anthropological debate on so-called conception theories,
the Trobriand father™s role in procreation as moulder of the child™s external features.
Note that I use text here in a non-technical way; it receives quite different value, for
instance, in Barthes™ hands (1977; 1986, discussed by Coombe 1998: 284).
34. But perhaps not too wildly. Dorinda Outram (personal communication) has since
pointed out the evolution of salon circles in eighteenth France where aspiring scholars
found a kind of ˜second family™. This often seems to have involved removal from
the ¬rst and in particular from the biological father. For the ¬‚edgling savant, ˜the
freedom to pursue innocent knowledge . . . could only occur as a result of . . . rejection
of parental authority™ (1987: 21).
178 NOTES TO PAGES 60“62


35. Possessiveness lay generally in identity or likeness, a sense of ˜ownness™ between
parent and child and, in the ideas of the time, parental authority and power over
the child. However, there were specialised arenas of debate that argued about the
consequences of identity. Some of the seventeenth century philosophers discussed
by James (1997) distinguished the spiritual uni¬cation of oneself with one™s object
of knowledge, likened to the benevolent love of the father, from physical union, as
in the mother™s effects on the unborn child, which exposes the mind to ˜inescapable
af¬‚ictions of sense™ and the person to too much in¬‚uence from others to be able
to form a clear knowledge of a world (1997: 248“52). An alleged change took place
over the eighteenth century in the so-called natural association of the child with
the parent: from the father to the mother (Jordanova 1995: 373, 379).
36. Value was put on innovation. Woodmansee (1994: 38) quotes Wordsworth from 1815
regarding the great author who, through his originality, has the task of creating the
taste by which he is appreciated. (Here as elsewhere I retain the masculine pronoun.)
Wordsworth: ˜Genius is the introduction of a new element in the intellectual universe™
(Woodmansee 1994: 39).
37. It is to be understood that these are cultural categories not psychological ones. Now
if it (the work) is less obviously a child and he (the author) is less obviously the
father, then is it (the work) more like (the author) himself? Woodmansee™s own
argument ends with a comment on the concomitant emergence of the notion that
work could be read in order to uncover the author™s personality. Coombe (1998: 219)
can thus generalise “ like the commentator cited by Justice Kennard “ that copyright
laws came to protect works ˜understood to embody the unique personality of their
individual authors™. The Romantic view has to allow the observer™s direct sensibility,
correspondence, to what is being observed. Creativity becomes assigned on the
evidence of the resultant work.
38. Focus is not on his or her vision but on the quality of information which that vision
produces, veri¬able by comparison with other pieces of information. The procedure
is not, of course, restricted to science; in discussing the nature of evidence, Hume
(1748) succinctly remarked that a reason for a fact will be another fact. Haraway™s
(1997) critique of the modest witness lies precisely in observing that the juncture at
which facts become visible is the juncture at which the witness becomes invisible.
˜This [modesty] is one of the founding virtues of the modern world. This is the virtue
that guarantees that the modest witness is the legitimate and authorized ventriloquist
for the object world, adding nothing from his mere opinion . . . ™ (1997: 24).
39. If we take Biagioli™s point about the present-day importance of accountability in
science, then the handling of information in the humanities and social sciences
follows a similar model. Paul Connerton has observed (personal communication)
that conventions in citation have hardly stayed still themselves, and this complicates
whatever it is one might mean by multiple authorship. (Pre-modern compositions
might consist of whole strings of citations; it was the job of authors to assemble
[previously deceased] authors. The knowledge practices of which Shapin writes
newly implicated relationships with living people.)
40. The people were men (cf. Haraway 1997: 27). Shapin examines the different kinds of
testimony that men allowed, and thus the evaluation of that testimony (see Shapin
1994: 212). Shapin™s overall thesis concerns the conventions of decorum and integrity
by which the trustworthy made themselves evident “ necessarily drawing on existing
179
NOTES TO PAGES 62“63


credentials (e.g., gentlemanly behaviour) “ that in effect de¬ned as a class those able
to vouch for one another and that had to discount other contributors to knowledge-
making.
41. My term: a rhetoric of equality had displaced old canons of authorisation. ˜The
Royal Society™s “modern” rejection of authority in scienti¬c matters quite speci¬cally
mobilized codes of presumed equality operative in early modern gentle society. Just as
each knowledge-claim was to make its way in the world without help or favoritism,
so all participants played on a level ¬eld™ (Shapin 1994: 123). (This did not mean
that everyone had to be personally acquainted, only that they held the status to be
counted as trustworthy.) From another time and place, the young savants mentioned
by Outram (see n. 34) were speci¬cally ¬‚edgling scientists, and in escaping their birth
origins were escaping ˜the tainted world of career-making, patronage, and advantage™
(Outram 1987: 21).
42. Shapin (1994: 258) gets close to this when he says that having ˜knowledge about
the nature of people allowed experience to be brought back from distant times and
places and transformed into public knowledge™.
43. ˜It is evident that there is a principle of connection between the different thoughts
and ideas of the mind, and that . . . they introduce each other with a certain degree
of method and regularity™ (Hume, 1748: 320). All objects of human enquiry may,
he averred, be divided into two kinds, relations of ideas and matters of fact. As far
as ˜connections among ideas™ are concerned, we ¬nd three principles: resemblance,
contiguity and cause or effect. And when it comes to reasoning over matters of fact,
this is largely founded on the last, the relation of cause and effect: ˜by means of that
relation alone we can go beyond the evidence of our memory and senses (1748: 322)™.
˜[A]ny idea . . . may be the occasion why the mind thus brings two things together,
and as it were, takes a view of them at once, though still considered as distinct;
therefore any of our ideas might be the foundation of relation™ (Locke 1690: 234).
44. In the last chapter of The order of things, Foucault addresses the delimiting effects
of knowledge that knows itself as ¬nite. We may see the relation (in the sense used
here) as an effect of just such a limitation, in that scienti¬c knowledge conceives of
things as ˜seeking the principle of their intelligibility only in their own development
(1970: xxiii) or as ˜contain[ing] the principles of their existence within themselves™
(1970: 317). Although medieval doctrines of resemblance were ostensibly thrown out
to be replaced by comparison through measurement and order, what he writes of
analogy continues to apply to cultural practices of persuasion. It is, he observes, one
among many devices by which ˜the world must fold in on itself, duplicate itself, or
form a chain with itself ™ (1970: 25“6). For a critique of twentieth century examples
from biology, see Fox Keller (1992).
45. Technical authority had to be demonstrated through the replicability of experiments.
Both connections and facts required allies (Latour 1986).
46. Outram (1995: 53) quotes de Condillac from the Treatise on sensations, Paris, 1754:
˜Ideas in no way allow us to know beings as they actually are; they merely depict
them in terms of their relationship with us™.
47. At once social and intellectual. The same applies to property practices. Consider
Macfarlane™s (1998) challenging account of developments stemming from feudal law
in England, which utilised the concept of relations in a particularly ¬‚exible manner.
By contrast with Roman law, where property lay in a thing to be divided among
180 NOTES TO PAGES 63“65


claimants, feudal lawyers ˜saw the thing as indivisible, but the rights in it, that is the
relationships between people, the bundle of social ties between people and resources,
were almost in¬nitely expandable™ (1998: 113, emphasis removed; 1986: 339“40). He
goes on to quote from Stein and Shand™s Legal Values in Western Society and say
that the idea of multiple relations in respect of a thing assisted the common law
acceptance of abstract rights such as copyright, patents, shares and options as forms
of property (1998: 111 “12).
48. Connections within may be seen as another example of connections between; see
Ollman™s discussion of ˜The philosophy of internal relations™ (1971 ). He quotes
Leibniz: ˜[T]here is no term so absolute or so detached that it doesn™t enclose relations
and the perfect analysis of which doesn™t lead to other things and even to everything
else, so that one could say that relative terms mark expressly the con¬guration which
they contain™ (1971 : 31).
49. The phrasing is from Ollman and his chapter on the philosophy of internal rela-
tions (1971 : 27) concerning Marx™s attempt to distinguish two types of relations (cf.
Marfarlane 1998: 104“5). But the notion that seemingly absolute terms contained
relations within them was already familiar from philosophy (see Locke 1690: 235).
50. A homely parallel is the way English-speakers commonly talk of a relation between
individual and society: the relation is bringing together phenomena of quite dif-
ferent scale. An apparent counter-example makes the point. Bouquet (1993: 172),
re¬‚ecting on Portuguese perpelexities over British anthropological theorising on
kinship, notes that there is, in Portuguese, ˜no separation, such as the English might
make, between the [private] person and [public] . . . conventions™. One cannot, in
Portuguese, it would seem, contrast persons and system, and therefore one cannot,
in this sense, relate them or derive each from the other. Yet even this relation of
identity acknowledges the terms (public, private) separately from their fusion.
51. Technology holds within itself ideas, concepts, information. Technology has no other
form than a working form; a failed technology is no technology. We may say it is like
a device that works to make other things work. This is the strong sense in which I
call ˜the relation™ a tool (see Introduction: Part I), by contrast with the weak sense in
which all concepts have an effect as vehicles of communication.
52. From the perspective of certain seventeenth century philosophers, for instance, it
has been argued that it would be a mistake to treat knowledge as an intellectual
matter divorced from emotion or the urge to act. Rather, ˜[t]he view that emotions
are intimately connected to volitions enabled the philosophers . . . to make space for
a conception of knowledge as feeling™ (James 1997: 240). It was not, in this sense,
independent from the knowing subject.
53. At least if we can go by the citations in the Oxford English Dictionary [1971 edition].
These do not work simply as ¬gures of speech (metaphors or similes in respect of
one another), although through explicit analogy (when their different domains are
compared) they may become so. Note that kinship is a thoroughly modern term
(kin and kinsfolk are ancient, but kinship as at once a relationship by descent or
consanguinity and a relationship in respect of quality or character was coined in the
nineteenth century). I use knowledge rather than (say) logic for the second set from
the hindsight of certain contemporary usages.
54. In the dual senses of receiving seed (becoming pregnant) and taking something
into the mind (grasping an idea); however we may note that only later, and it is
181
NOTES TO PAGES 65 “69


recorded thus from the seventeenth century, is conceive used more loosely to cover
both conception (by a woman) and begetting (by a man).
55. A usage that seems to have become prevalent, in certain circles at least, in Jane
Austen™s time. Handler and Segal (1990: 33) suggest that connection stressed the
socially constructed and mutable (their phrasing) dimension of the kinship tie as
opposed to its natural basis in blood. Family seems to have referred to the household
and to those related through common descent before it became, in the seventeenth
century, a term for an assemblage of items.
56. When they are made explicit, the effect is indeed often that of ˜a dreadful pun™
because English-speakers will hold that the connections are not really intrinsic or
else that the similarities may seem altogether too obvious or altogether too obscure.
Yet the parallels have kept going for three hundred years, and the doubles entendres
are as persistant. English-speakers thus persist in using the same words to talk about
intellectual propagation as they do procreative acts, and then they do it all over again
in connecting concepts together in order to instruct themselves about the nature
of the world and connecting persons together whom they wish to acknowledge as
members of a common kin universe. Sometimes the connections have been explored
in ¬ction. Beer hints that George Eliot™s novel Middlemarch, published in 1872, may
be read as a narrative of double relationships: what happens when relations of love
and marriage are eclipsed by the obsessive pursuit of relations and connections
between in¬nitely compilable facts.
57. Although Haraway would prefer to dispense with the idea of kinship altogether, this
offers a parallel to her supposition about gender relations. She asks ˜if gender, with
all its tangled knots with other systems of strati¬ed relationships, was at stake in
key recon¬gurations of knowledge and practice that constituted modern science™
(1997: 27).
58. The original reads: ˜having the notion that one laid the egg out of which the other was
hatched, I have a clear idea of the relation of dam and chick between the cassowaries
in St James™s Park; though, perhaps, I have but a very obscure and imperfect idea of
those birds themselves™ (Locke 1690: 237). The cassowaries would have been one in a
long line of unusual creatures kept on public display, many of which set puzzles for
the ˜classifying imagination™ (Ritvo 1997).
59. Whether through a comparison of similarities or, as in metaphor, through describing
one thing via what is sustained (domained off) for the very purpose of comparison as
an entirely different thing. ˜Making sense™ is of course too passive a rendering when
one considers the transformative effect of mimesis and the ˜epistemic awareness™ it
generates (Gell 1998: 100, after Taussig 1993).
60. If so, it is almost as though he were also insisting that the language of kinship is
no analogy either. Scientists who were dealing with living, and thus reproducing,
organisms had the particular advantage of being able to close whatever gap ˜between
metaphor and actuality™ that existed. Beer (1983: 170) cites Darwin in this connection.
In The origin of species the idea of family is given a genetic actuality when descent
becomes ˜the hidden bond of connexion which naturalists have sought under the
term of the Natural System™ (1983: 170). Kinship was no ¬gure of speech but conveyed
˜true af¬nities™ between living things. He had been arguing that ˜all living and extinct
forms can be grouped together in one great system . . . [such that] several members of
each class are connected together by the most complex and radiating lines of af¬nities™
182 NOTES TO PAGES 69“73


(quoted from The origin of species, Beer 1983: 167). Beer notes that family, and what
we might call a network of connections, were one among several idioms to which
Darwin had recourse, others including tree and web. Thus the notion of generation
yielded ˜the tree, the great family, the lost parent, the “changing dialect” of life™ (1983:
55). We might see a similar situation (on the borders of biological connection) among
present day arti¬cial life workers: ˜kinship terms from the Euro-American lexicon
have been read onto biogenetic connections and then used to structure knowledge
about biogenetic categories themselves. One genetic algorithmist . . . did not stop with
“parents” and “children” in describing relationships between bit strings but added
terms like “grandparent,” “aunt, “cousin” ™ (Helmreich 1998: 152, my emphasis).
61. In the sense, for instance, in which Arnold (1990: 1) uses it: ˜Copyright is a member
of the family intellectual property™ (emphasis displaced).
62. Alone in the span of kin relations, those between parent and child are duplex (mutu-
ally implicated, pulling two ways, offering views on the world that are alternatives to,
and thus presuppose, each other). Most kin relations are mediated (e.g., siblings are
related through mutual parents). To hear an English-speaker call someone a relation
tells you there is some other reason for the connection than simply acknowledg-
ing it; he is known to be a relative by marriage or she a relative through an aunt.
English-speakers can think of parent“child relations this way too: the bond appears
mediated by other things (by the facts of life, by knowledge of those facts, and so
forth); but they may also posit an (unmediated) identity between parent and child.
63. Godelier (1986), intending a universal observation, puts it powerfully, ˜Kinship is not
just recognition of father, mother. . . . But it is equally and just as much knowledge
of father™s father . . . mother™s mother . . . and so on. This then entails recognition of a
network of transitive relationships which in turn presupposes the ability to perceive
relations between these relationships™.
64. That is, the analogy between the way things or persons are known. My question (˜was
new impetus given to the legal axiom that between mother and father only the mother
is known with certainty?™) and the observations following are my extrapolations; it
may not even be a sensible question to ask. Out of interest, to add to the demise of
idioms of paternal begetting in the context of copyright, idioms of carnal knowledge
(knowing for sexual intercourse) were also fading at the time.
65. Regardless of whether the knowledge is absolute or contingent, a difference high-
lighted in the traditional difference between mother and father. In a way not true
of mothers, fathers are vulnerable to ˜discovering™ they are not fathers after all, as in
the case brie¬‚y mentioned at the beginning of this chapter.
66. On choice in English kinship also see Strathern (1992a); for North American see
Hayden (1995); Robertson (1994); Weston (1991 ).
67. And, as Dolgin puts it, in complete disregard for traditional understandings about
the parent“child relationship. However, we might note the momentum from repro-
ductive technology involving gamete donation where the so-called right of the child
to know about its genetic origins is increasingly taken as normal and justi¬able.
68. She has already pointed out the possibility that hereditary traits that appear to apply
to overall ethnic or racial groups could be taken as evidence applying to individual
members of them. See Rabinow (1996a: Chapter 6).
69. She is not overlooking the fact that a parent affects a child™s genetic disposition, not
the other way around, and that genealogical distance also affects genetic probablities.
183
NOTES TO PAGES 73“75


Rather, Dolgin™s focus is on the way in which neither families nor family members
can protect their secrets from outside professionals newly obliged to reveal rather
than withhold genetic information and, in this circumstance, family members are
all alike.
70. Contexts merge: the genetic family is indifferent to distinctions between social
domains “ it belongs neither to home nor to work but to both at once (Dolgin
2000: 564) “ for genetic traits are carried into the workplace, may be vetted for in-
surance purposes, and so forth. This is not new or otherwise inconceivable. One
can think of past ways in which, in certain circles at least, family reputation trav-
elled likewise, or situations in which kinspersons have been reduced to otherwise
interchangeable replicas through the monetary value their inheritance might hold
for others (Paul Connerton, personal communication).
71. Only to note that this resonates with what is happening in the way people have been
setting up new procreative units. One can have reproductive relatedness (quasi-kin,
friends as family) without relatives; the new ˜kin™ detach relationships from kinship.
Weston™s (1991 ) work is the classic here; I would also refer to Bonaccorso™s study
(2000) of Italian family ideology in the context of gamete donation.
72. Sometimes to embrace all those connected as kin, at other times to detach relatedness
from kinship, as in the case of a woman who was urged by her genetic counsellor to
contact various people she did not count as her relatives (although she referred to
them as cousin™, ˜uncle™, ˜aunt™; Finkler 2000: 67).
73. Finkler™s argument is that otherwise loosely connected kin are re-connected through
the emphasis given to genetic ties and thus linked through a sense of shared body
and ˜blood bonds™. This may overlay existing ties: ˜People are compelled to recognize
consanguinity even when in the lived world . . . [the] family . . . may be grounded in
friendship or sharing of affect and interest™ (2000: 206). Logically, however, the rea-
sons for the genetic relations have an independent existence. Dolgin (2000) similarly
observes that the (abstract) idea of sharing genetic connection develops a reality of its
own; it becomes a (concrete) social reality under the requirements of genetic testing
and diagnosis. The connotations Haraway (e.g., 1997: 141 f.) gives to corporealization
in this context, a new rei¬cation of familial relations, are discussed by Battaglia (1999:
135).
74. The breast cancer patients whom Finkler interviewed uniformly absolved their ances-
tors of responsibility for transmitting genetic disease: how could they, as individuals,
help it? At the same time, as she says (2000: 208), DNA encourages neither the rein-
vention of the self nor the embellishment of past ancestry. Truth will out! (cf Edwards
1999). It may, however, allow one to claim as an ancestor someone with whom one
has no traceable connection but through the DNA, that is, through a history of
disease (Finkler 2000: 196). It should be added that these data refer to negotiation in
family relations. In other circumstances, for example, in the study of human genetic
diversity, the revelation of genetic connection may lead to expressions of solidarity.
even injunctions of the order that the demonstration of common kinship should
lead us to all assuming responsibility for one another. I am grateful to Adam Reed
(personal communication) for this observation.
75. Con¬dentiality of information may or may not fall under intellectual property
rubrics. The need to protect industrial secrets, at least in the early stages of develop-
ment, while encouraging the dissemination of information, is one of the backbones
184 NOTES TO PAGES 75 “93


of IPR regimes. Dolgin notes that the impetus toward re¬ning informed consent
comes largely from insurance and health care provisions, but clearly works in the
interests of the biotechnology industry as well.
76. Their interchangeability is recognized in the kind of agency that donation brings:
˜donors not only (symbolically) contain inside their anonymized bodies the imagi-
nary persons of many (unknown) women “ they are these many persons™ (Konrad
1998: 655, original emphasis).
77. I cannot develop the point here but several hints in Konrad™s paper point to the
worlds of donors and recipients as (regarded as) simultaneously separate, conjoined
and parallel with or analogous to one another. (Were donors and recipients to become
involved in one another™s lives, the analogy would collapse into a different kind of
relationship.)
78. By interesting contrast with the emphatic kinship perspective recorded by Edwards
(2000). As one egg donor put it, ˜I™ve just provided the means for the pregnancy, and
as far as I am concerned once my eggs have gone, that™s ¬ne by me™ (Konrad 1998:
652). Konrad (1998: 659) proffers the epithet transilient for persons formed through
extensional relatedness via multiple other persons.



part ii: introduction: the arithmetic of ownership
1. I am thinking of anthropology™s relation here, but of course the question can also
be put to science™s relation. (There are potentially innumerable duplex possibilities;
the interest is in the hold of a salient few.)
2. Though colloquially, and I have done so myself, one may speak of multiple perspec-
tives creating multiple worlds. The colloquialism refers to an effect of in¬nity “ to
the myriad positions made possible by the myriad individuals in the world “ that
is held to cast in different lights the physical and environmental world that can be
known in diverse ways but exists in one.
3. Knowledge of the world and, recursively, knowledge of the practices and methods
that build knowledge of the world, and thus the grounds on which it is held.
4. But for a very different anthropological rendering, on another trajectory, consult
Rabinow (2003).
5. A famous boy character (aged thirteen and a three-quarters) in contemporary English
¬ction whose ˜diaries™ are intended for child as well as adult audiences. ˜It™s my
mother™s fault for not knowing about vitamins™, Adrian Mole: Jan 2nd, on the spot
on his chin (Townsend 1989).



chapter 4: the patent and the malanggan
1. The basic Malanggan concepts drawn on here are shared across the region (K¨ chler
u
1987: 239 and n. 4); K¨ chler points particularly to Lewis (1969). Matrilineal clans

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