The Cultural History of Comedy and Computing
MIT Associate Professor of Literature Dr. Benjamin Mangrum explores the unexpected intersection of comedy and computing technology in his book 'The Comedy of Computation.' The discussion traces how comedy has served as the primary cultural lens through which society has processed the arrival and integration of computers into daily life. Mangrum's research reveals that the computer made its Broadway debut in a 1950s romantic comedy—a surprising fact that launched his investigation into why comedy, rather than science fiction or drama, became the dominant genre for making sense of this transformative technology. The conversation examines how comedy functions as what scholars call 'the genre of the ordinary,' helping audiences domesticate strange new technologies by making them feel familiar and manageable rather than threatening or alien.
From Racist Tropes to Modern AI Anxieties
The discussion delves into uncomfortable historical territory, examining how early computing and automation marketing borrowed heavily from racist language and imagery rooted in slavery and minstrel performance traditions. Mangrum traces how engineers and corporations in the mid-20th century conceptualized automated labor through racialized frameworks, citing examples like Westinghouse robots designed to evoke Black laborers. This historical context provides crucial perspective on contemporary debates about AI displacement of knowledge workers. Mangrum addresses his own professional anxieties as an educator facing potential obsolescence, drawing parallels between 1950s middle managers who feared computer replacement and today's white-collar professionals confronting generative AI. The conversation explores the 'authenticity gap' between technology marketing promises and actual societal adoption, noting how idealistic visions of technological transformation inevitably produce unintended consequences and side effects that undermine their utopian claims.
Teaching Technology Through Humanistic Inquiry
Mangrum describes his unique position teaching literature and philosophy courses about technology to MIT computer science students who are actively building AI systems. His courses, including 'AI and the Literature of Consciousness' and 'Computers and the Novels That Read Them,' create productive collisions between technical expertise and humanistic questioning. Students encounter philosophical thought experiments about consciousness, freedom, and authenticity alongside science fiction works by authors like Philip K. Dick and Louisa Hall, creating opportunities to examine the existential and ethical dimensions of the technologies they're developing. The conversation touches on his research into unusual cultural artifacts, including films depicting sexual relationships with computers—a surprisingly common theme dating to the late 1950s that reveals deeper anxieties about human-technology intimacy and dependence. Throughout, Mangrum maintains that while AI's ultimate impact on education remains uncertain, the transformation will likely be significant and strange rather than smoothly balanced.
Environmental Costs and the Future of Computing
The discussion addresses the material consequences of computing advancement, particularly the environmental costs of AI infrastructure. Mangrum references recent reporting on water consumption in AI data center cooling systems, noting the irony of using a bottle's worth of water to save 30 seconds writing an email. This exemplifies the broader pattern he identifies throughout computing history: technologies marketed as solutions inevitably create new problems, and the gap between idealistic promises and messy reality generates ongoing cultural negotiation. The conversation concludes with reflections on favorite films, including Kubrick's 'Dr. Strangelove' (which inspired the book's title and its approach to 'gallows humor' about technological obsolescence), 'Blazing Saddles' (praised for containing multiple comedy genres within one film), and tech thriller 'Sneakers.' These cultural touchstones reinforce the book's central argument that comedy remains our primary tool for processing technological change—not because technology is inherently funny, but because comedy helps us live with incongruity, uncertainty, and the gap between what we're promised and what we get.
