The struggle to ensure the survival of non-human species goes hand in hand with the struggle for dignity and freedom for all humans.

Once again, in imagining better ways of living with non-humans, computational or biological, we must be attentive to their own ways of speaking and making meaning, and not simply insist that they learn to speak, and think, and behave, in the ways that we do.

To decentralize, in this context, means to empower and grant agency equally to every actor and assemblage in the more-than-human world, so that none may have dominion over any other.

Non-binary, decentralized, unknowing – what all three conditions of this negative theology of technology have in common is that they are concerned with dismantling domination, in all its forms.

True randomness is a slippery thing: it is a property not of things in themselves, like individual numbers, but of their relationship to one another.

I am sometimes asked when ‘real’ AI will arrive – meaning the era of super-intelligent machines, capable of transcending human abilities and superseding us. When this happens, I often answer: it’s already here. It’s corporations.

A world in which the environment itself was dominant, an ecological world, is of much longer duration and, despite the thoughtless exercise of our power, has never gone away. Indeed, the tumult in which we find ourselves today might be considered its violent reassertion.

The lens required now is not a microscope, but a macroscope: a device for seeing at a far vaster scale – both in space and time – than we are used to.

An ecology of technology, then, is concerned with the interrelationships between technology and the world, its meaning and materiality, its impact and uses, beyond the everyday, deterministic fact of its own existence.