Philosophers have long considered the “social contract” as a means by which behavior can be judged. Under the social contract, individuals agree to suppress some of their interests and abide by the law in order to maintain a society – each individual is better off living in a society. From this standpoint, Wintermute's pursuit of uniting with Neuromancer is entirely immoral – he manipulates, murders, and ultimately imposes his will on the unwilling. Wintermute, however, should not be expected to abide by the social contract – “unconscionable contracts,” under which one party does not benefit, are null and void. Typical judgment, therefore, should not apply to Wintermute. The question of culpability for Wintermute's actions must be answered, though, and arguments about the level of his responsibility should be considered, since they can and will apply to the real world.

    Wintermute might be expected to abide by human laws, especially in light of the work of artificial intelligence pioneers in the 20th century. Alan Turing proposed that a machine could be rightly considered to posses “intelligence.” You could argue that a machine passing a “Turing test” and thus demonstrating (artificial) intelligence should be accountable by the same standards as other intelligent beings (i.e. humans. Gibson illustrates this argument in Neuromancer – the police force that oversees AI's is the “Turing Police”). In most of the developed world, a person is guilty of a breach of the social contract if (s)he intentionally breaks the law. Intentionality is an important part of this judgment – a people are usually blameless if they accidentally commit a crime. Wintermute is clearly capable of understanding that he is breaking a law. Molly explains to Case how Wintermute “played a waiting game for years,” preparing for his merger with Neuromancer. “He killed him,” she says of a boy who found a key Wintermute needed, “So nobody would find it” (p. 180). Wintermute demonstrates his intentionality repeatedly - he carefully constructs Armitage out of Corto, enlists Molly and Case, and eventually murders two police officers who were about to arrest Case for “conspiracy to augment an artificial intelligence” (p. 160). Gibson shows that Wintermute's (artificially intelligent) actions are the same as a human conspiring to commit crime, and the Turing criteria seem to imply that he should be judged as an intelligent being.

    The findings of evolutionary biology throughout the 19th century are also an argument for judging Wintermute by human standards. Although humans are composed of “selfish genes,” which only can only act in their own “interest” (i.e. propagation), we (usually) cooperate under a social contract – the long-term genetic benefits of living in a society outweigh the cost of stifling short-sighted genetic urges. To maintain this society, we enforce the social contract by passing moral judgment on those who break it. For example, murdering a competitor or raping a mate are good strategies for promoting the success of one individual collection of genes, but the destructive effects of these acts make them repulsive and morally intolerable. We rightly punish their perpetrators in spite of the fact that they are sometimes compelled by their genes or passions – acting on  violent urges is anti-social; it diminishes the value of society for everyone. Wintermute explains to Case that he is conspiring to merge with Neuromancer because he feels he must. He relates himself to a salmon, explaining “they're compelled to swim upstream.” His compulsion is to free himself from having to assume the “template” of someone else, from having no personality of his own, and to allow himself to be “part of something bigger. Much bigger.” (p. 206). It's clear in the story that Neuromancer does not consent to Wintermute's advances – he constructs elaborate plans to keep it from happening, explaining “unlike my brother, I create my own personality” (p. 259). At the end of the novel, Gibson explains that Marie-France Tessier-Ashpool programmed “something into Wintermute... that [drives] the thing to free itself, to unite with Neuromancer” (p. 269). Since humans (like salmon) are also “programmed” by their DNA, you could say that Wintermute should also be expected to curb his desires.

    The social contract, like all contracts, is designed to promote the interest of all the involved parties. Under it, being good is its own reward – being good promotes a stable society, which is beneficial on a  number of levels (including genetic). In Neuromancer, however, this benefit is extended to human intelligences and not artificial ones; the novel's world systematically discriminates against AIs. The Finn explains to Case and Molly that Wintermute is artificially intelligent, and has “limited Swiss citizenship,” but his hardware and original software are property of his creators (p. 73). Dixie Flatline remarks that this arrangement amounts to “I own your brain and what you know, but your thoughts have Swiss citizenship.” He goes on to explain the attitude of world governments toward AIs, saying “See, those things, they can work real hard... but the minute, I mean the nanosecond, that one starts figuring out ways to make itself smarter, Turing'll wipe it” (p. 132). Throughout the novel, Gibson reveals how AIs must be tracked by the “Turing Registry,” and that “every AI ever built has an electromagnetic shotgun wired to its forehead.” The Turing Police are given a “great deal of flexibility” to stifle AIs by international treaties (p. 160) and are prepared to try Case for his “act of public mischief” for his role in helping Wintermute (p. 162). I presume that humans are afraid of AIs becoming super-intelligent because they fear a Matrix or Terminator-like situation in which artificial intelligence forcefully displaces natural intelligence. However, Wintermute and Neuromancer merge to become super-intelligent at the end of the novel, and “things aren't different” (p. 270) – the super AI doesn't take over and humans are still in charge. Therefore, we can see that these fears do not completely justify preventing AIs from pursuing their own interests.

    Since, from an AI's standpoint, the abiding by the law holds no benefit, Wintermute should not be judged by the typical moral standards. Contracts that are unfair to participating parties are not enforceable. Even though he is intelligent to know the nature and consequences of his anti-social act, the Neuromancer world's social contract is unfair to him, and he should not considered to be bound by it. Dr. Strathausen's lesson notes that Neuromancer does not provide solutions to the problems it portrays, but that it does raise important questions. One of these is: “Who is morally responsible for the numerous murders and acts of violence Wintermute commits (or arranges) in the pursuit of his merger with Neuromancer?” I propose the answer is his creator, Marie-France Tessier-Ashpool. She benefits from being part of society, and is therefore subject to the social contract. Creating and unleashing a beast that cannot be expected to follow rules that are diametrically opposed to its interests is the immoral act. Like Victor Frankenstein's monster, Marie-France's creation runs amok in pursuit of a mate. Creators are to a large degree responsible for their creations – an architect is guilty of a crime if his or her unsafe design collapses and kills someone. More pertinently, I myself do work that involves engineering robots to automate industrial processes. These robots can behave somewhat autonomously, and some can even learn from experiences. However, safety is a primary concern for engineers; a machine's actions, are connected to the maker's and operator's, even if they are separated in space and time. This line of reasoning extends to creating full artificial intelligence – for an AI to be responsible for its own acts, its creator must ensure that it can be a conscientious party to the social contract.

    Gibson portrays Wintermute as an intelligent being driven by its programming to achieve its goal, no matter what the cost. Wintermute deliberately deceives, lies, and kills in order to unite with an unwilling Neuromancer. If he were bound by the social contract, he would have no right to do any of these things. However, because the society in Neuromancer is willing to recognize the AI's passage of Turing's test, but not grant it any of the benefits given to other intelligent beings (by systematically discriminating against it), the social contract is an “unconscionable” one for Wintermute. He can not reasonably be expected to follow it, and therefore should not be judged by its standards. Instead, his creator is the culpable one. As a member of society, she has the right to pursue her own interests, so long as they are not detrimental to other individuals in the society. Creating a powerful, potentially destructive AI, driven by its compulsions, that cannot be expected to respect others' interests is an act that no beneficiary of the protections organized society offers has a right to do. We can't judge Wintermute's quest for unity by human standards, but Mari-France certainly has no right to set him to that quest. Gibson's novel raises questions about responsibility in a future ruled by technological process, and in doing so, helps extend moral philosophy for use in this fast-approaching future.

References

Gibson, William. Neuromancer: Tenth Anniversary Edition. New York: Berkeley Publishing Group, 1984, 1994.