In 1957, an average farmed chicken reached a weight of 905g after 56 days. It was then considered adult and fit to be eaten. 65 years later, the same chicken aged 56 days exceeds 4kg. But few reach this size: in practice, they are slaughtered after 35 days, after reaching 2.2kg.
These remarkable statistics often serve as rallying points for animal rights activists, highlighting the cramped conditions and health issues faced by battery-farmed chickens. While the welfare of animals is undoubtedly important, our focus in this series lies elsewhere. We are interested in the underlying order of things—the inexorable chain of cause and effect. This chicken serves as our entry point into the realm of the Machine, exemplifying Leibniz's prescient observation: every machine implies machines of machines.
Ironically, our engineered chicken's excessive weight brings with it reduced mobility and shortened lifespan, mirroring issues seen in overweight humans. However, the causal relationship is inverted: for the chicken, death is not a consequence of its condition, but rather the very purpose of its accelerated growth and restricted movement. The chicken's brief existence is but a transient phase in a vast process designed to feed humanity. Though merely an early link in an intricate food chain, this chicken represents a remarkable feat of engineering—or more accurately, a cascade of engineering marvels.
Phenotypic selection, a process that humans have mastered for thousands of years, is necessary but far from sufficient to achieve this result. The food and pharmaceutical industries play an instrumental role in feeding chickens and preventing them from dying from bacterial or viral infections that are common in very dense and confined populations. The biology of this chicken is controlled at a molecular level.
The chicken's journey from egg to plate involves a complex network of highly sophisticated, often automated infrastructures, all part of a meticulously orchestrated supply chain. This process is further governed by a web of regulatory standards set by various authorities, ensuring the chicken's continued progression through the system even after it's been plucked and processed.
Scientific protocols, automated production, algorithmic decision-making, and precision logistics represents a mechanistic process of breathtaking complexity. Its ultimate goal? To maximize protein mass as a function of time. Herein lies the true genius of our species: not merely in producing a 2 kg chicken in a month, but in our capacity to reduce the living, breathing gallus gallus domesticus to these two abstract variables - mass and time. In our analysis of the triumphs and limitations of the Machine, abstraction will necessarily be a central theme.
Focusing on specific machines such as those described above, however numerous they may be in the system, limits the analysis to the question of “how?”. Addressing the question of "why?" transforms our study into a significantly more ambitious undertaking. As we work through this question, overarching “general machines” will emerge. These machines convert the illusion of needing to prevent randomness (through accumulation, optimization, planning, norms, or standards) into fuel for specific machines. The chicken grew enormous not just because humans believed it was technically feasible, but primarily because they felt that it was necessary. The "why" behind our giant chicken lies at the intersection of the Financial Machine and the State Machine.
General machines transcend the framework of cause and effect. They prompt us to question the comfort humans derive from numbers representing quantities as abstract as space, energy, or time. All our machines, whether general or specific, ultimately reflect our relationship with these three concepts and our obsession with mastering them. Through technological progress, we have managed to escape the natural order of things, and our control now extends from the infinitely large to the infinitely small.
The intricate ballet of our machines in a finely-tuned system captivates us as much as it serves us. We nurture the Machine like a magnificent tree, marveling at its growth until it can sustain itself. Its roots delve deep and branch endlessly, seeking out every crevice where chaos still holds sway. These specialized machines form the foundation of the general machine, reinforcing its structure. Above our heads, a canopy inexorably extends, offering a protection we've grown to appreciate. We harbor the illusion that we can shape it by pruning unwieldy branches, yet with each passing season, we find ourselves dominated again. Once out of our control, we'll come to admire its majesty. In a sense, we have become slaves of the slave (as Baudelaire might add, "and a stream in the sewer"1), and this tree metaphor prepares us for the emergence of bureaucracies.
The good news is that, as the adage goes, trees don't grow to the sky. Eventually, the law of diminishing returns and Parkinson's law come into play, which we will try to illustrate across several domains.
The bad news is that trees inevitably fall. This cautionary note echoes throughout history in the works of those who have attempted to formulate a theory of the Machine based on the technical knowledge of their time.
In his seminal work on cybernetics—the theory of control and communication in animals and machines—Norbert Wiener evokes figures like Daedalus and Hero of Alexandria2, the latter known for his treatise on pneumatics and steam engine inventions. Wiener also draws our attention to Leibniz, whose monad becomes overwhelmed when inundated with information, rendering it incapable of perception.
Wiener also observes that our relationship with the Machine forms a crucial pillar of modern philosophy, expressing surprise at its lack of recognition as such. Indeed, the Machine—as an instrument for controlling entropy in its various forms—has captivated thinkers since antiquity. Any contemporary attempt to grasp the nature of the Machine necessarily leads to revisit numerous works, some visionary, from both scientific and philosophical perspectives.
Throughout this series of articles, our aim extends beyond merely cataloging the myriad manifestations of the Machine. We embark on a journey to unravel its enigmatic nature, exploring both the specific machines that populate our world and the overarching general machines that shape our systems and societies. We stand on the shoulders of countless generations who have wrestled with these very questions. This persistent inquiry may be one of the most defining characteristics of our species, reflecting our innate curiosity, our capacity for innovation, and our ceaseless desire to push the boundaries of what's possible.
