Big, Bad Muslims: Part Five—24: Season Six

Hey, I'm an actual human being,
not a one-dimensional character.

Hamri Al-Assad is 24’s most interesting Muslim character, and the only one played by someone from the region. Alexander Siddig, from Sudan, gives Assad an intelligent authority and spontaneity missing from 24’s other Muslims.

After Jack Bauer learns Fayed’s misinformation has sent the government to kill Assad, Bauer tracks him down and tells him one of his men is a traitor. Assad finds the traitor and condemns him: “You betrayed us.”

The traitor responds, “No, you are the one who betrayed his people.”

24’s Muslims often identify themselves as ‘us’ or ‘our people’, but have of yet to state what makes them a unique group beyond their religion. 24’s American characters, however, never proclaim group identity. They may say ‘our country’, but never ‘our people.’

Soon, it is revealed that Assad came to America to stop Fayed and begin peace talks. “I’ve gotten most of my people and the governments that support us to agree to a cease fire with the West,” he says. Of course, the government has no idea. So, Jack, Assad, and the traitor narrowly escape being killed by US troops.

After breaking into an empty home, Jack and Assad interrogate the traitor, demanding Fayed’s location. Jack is convinced the man knows nothing, but Assad continues the torture and, in one of the season’s grisliest scenes, stabs him through his kneecap. The man tells Assad where the next attack will occur. Assad, before stabbing him to death, whispers, “I understand you thought you were doing the right thing. I admire your conviction, but you’ve taken the wrong path. I’m sorry.” Assad, who claims commitment to peace, is as violent as Ahmed Amar and Salhib’s men. Jack and the government are violent out of necessity, while it appears Muslims are naturally violent. To say the continuation of violence in the Middle East comes from a society that has historically promoted violence is a symbolic usage, not historical fact. Nevertheless, 24’s Muslims, as is their nature, habitually use violence as a method to excel in conflict situations.

Hurrying to save Scott from Ahmed, Jack encourages Assad to help CTU catch Fayed. Assad refuses. “I will not work with my enemies.”

Jack reminds him the government’s attack on his location was Fayed’s ruse, and replies, “You’re working with one now. You might hate this country. You might hate its values, but if you were serious about disarming…then you know you have to compromise. That is your political reality.”

Unfairly hated by the Middle East, the West, apparently, is innocent. Yet, as Said would point out, this hatred for the West is spurned by the West itself and, as Bernard Lewis contends, Orientalist intrusion and Western control of the Middle East gave its peoples the ability to question Western power. “Once these subjects had mastered a Western European language…they found a new world open to them, full of new and dangerous ideas such as political freedom and national sovereignty” (129). Lewis also believes that Middle East ‘Western scorn’ is not as vehement as the American media’s portrayal. Since Western methods of government, economics, and policy have failed in the region, “to many [Middle Easterners] the West again appears as something alien, pagan, and noxious, still hostile, but no longer terrifying” (216). Fred Halliday supports Lewis, stating “the resistance by Muslims to rule by non-Muslims is…of the rise of the dominant Western secular ideology of modern times, nationalism, with its core ideological claim that peoples are entitled to sovereignty and independence” (166). 24 shuns this actuality by ignoring America’s history in the region. America, as embodied by Bauer, remains an innocent superpower under siege from a band of misguided, violent insurgents like Ahmed, Sahlib, Fayed, and formerly, Assad.

"Alright, we'll kill terrorists together."

            Jack’s partner, Curtis Manning, refuses to work with Assad and places him under arrest. Assad protests. Jack calls President Palmer. Palmer offers Assad immunity if he continues to track Fayed and facilitates the peace process. Assad agrees and receives a full legal pardon. After Jack saves Scott from Ahmed, he tells Curtis of Assad’s deal.

Curtis, gritting his teeth, eyes bulging, whispers, “In other words, he walks.” Jack says that is the way it has to be. Curtis assures him Assad will arrive safely at CTU.

A minute later, CTU informs Jack that in the first Gulf War Assad’s men ambushed Curtis’ squad, killed five of his men, and left him badly wounded. Assad took hostages and beheaded them the next day.

Jack sprints outside to find Curtis holding Assad at gunpoint. Jack pleads with his partner to lower his weapon, but Curtis refuses. “I can’t let this animal live!”

Jack shoots Curtis in the neck, killing him.

"Curtis, don't kill him. You've been around for three seasons already. Don't let that end here!"

"I have to! Right now, while we're trying to stop a nuclear explosion! I have to take the time to have my revenge
while millions of innocent lives hang in the balance! This is totally consistent with my character!"

            24 drew heavy criticism for this scene. Curtis Manning had been one of its most beloved, level-headed characters, a welcome counter to 24’s occasional overbearing melodrama. Viewers deemed his attempted execution of Assad out of character. Yet, for this season, the scene maintains its theme: contact with Muslims will invariably cause rational Americans to lose their reason. Ray did it, and now, overshadowing Ahmed Amar’s fate in the previous scene, Curtis’ interaction with Assad results in his death.

            Afterward—it’s no shock—Assad receives a cold reception at CTU. Director Bill Buchanan refuses to shake his hand.

“I know you see me as your enemy, but today I assure you I am not,” Assad tells him. “I came to the United States to stop Fayed. I knew he intended to inflict damage, but not to kill millions.”

Still, no one believes him until he discovers Fayed is working with a disgraced Soviet general, Dmitri Gredenko. CTU apologizes for its behavior and puts Assad on a plane to the White House. Before he leaves, Buchanan offers Assad his hand. Assad, with gratitude, respectfully shakes it, saying, “I hope the worst is over here in Los Angeles.” And he means it.

            Yet, President Palmer treats Assad as another Muslim who needs to atone for his ‘nature’ by complying with American demands.   

When the two meet, Palmer greets Assad with ‘understandable skepticism,’ chastises him for his dealings with Fayed, and demands he appear on television to “appeal to the members of the Islamic communities everywhere to come forward with any information regarding Fayed.”

Assad shakes his head. “You flatter me if you think I hold sway over all Islam.”

Curling his lip, Palmer replies, “No, sir, not all--just the extremists who share your hatred of the West.”

Later in their conversation, Assad tells Palmer, “Many of the people you wish me to sway have been swayed to believe that our cause is a holy one. I’m not innocent of this manipulation.”

Palmer: "How do you get your hair so wavy?"
Assad: "Now is not the time, Mr. President."

An exploration of true political realities would not only explain/comment upon terrorist motivations, but of American government’s policies, such as those embodied by Tom Lennox, or more topically, George Bush. Both sides, and both worlds (fictional and real) could be examined, but 24 only allows Islam that painful admission. Through silence, America maintains innocence.

            In Part 6, I’ll discuss how these depictions only worsen in the show’s introduction and usage of a Middle Eastern “Ambassador.”          

Bibliography

“Day 4.” “Day 6.” 24. Fox, 2005, 2007.

“24 Under Fire from Muslim Groups.” BBC News. BBC News, 19 January 2007.

Armstrong, Stephen. "Rough Justice." New Statesman 136.4836 (2007): 36-38. 

Bauder, David. “TV Torture Influencing Real Life.” USA Today. 11 February 2007.

Dougherty, Michael Brendan. "What Would Jack Bauer Do?" American Conservative 6.5

(2007): 8-10. 

Flynn, Gillian. “24: TV Review.” Entertainment Weekly. 11 January 2007.

Halliday, Fred. 100 Myths About the Middle East. Los Angeles: University of California Press,

2005.

Irwin, Robert. Dangerous Knowledge: Orientalism and its Discontents. New York: Overlook

Press, 2006.

Lewis, Bernard. From Babel to Dragomans: Interpreting the Middle East. Oxford: Oxford

University Press, 2004.

McCormick, Patrick. "The Torture Show." U.S. Catholic 73.5 (2008): 17. 

McDermont, Jim. “A Trojan Horse.” America 196.7 (2007): 23-24.

Rossi, Melissa. What Every American Should Know About the Middle East. New York: Plume

Books, 2008.

Said, Edward. Orientalism. New York: Vintage, 1978.

Yuan, Jada. “The White-Castle Ceiling.” New York Magazine. 4 March 2007.

Holy Wars: "god is not Great"

317 frustrating pages. Yes, that includes the index.

When I first read Christopher Hitchens’ God is Not Great, I was captivated. His prose and conviction sucked me into his black-and-white battleground of faith vs. reason. I remember reading chapter eleven of Great, about Joseph Smith and the rise of the Mormon Church, aloud to my wife just days before we were to attend a wedding reception for a Mormon friend. “Listen! This is what they believe!” That was my enthusiasm. Eventually, I searched the internet for more of his writing. Soon I found Dawkins, Harris, Dennett, and many more New/Old Atheists, and devoured their work with as much gusto. I watched God debate after God debate on YouTube, read Hitch’s Missionary Position (his take on Mother Teresa), and bought The Portable Atheist, his 400-page tome of atheist readings. Because of Hitch, I almost, almost (emphasis on the al) considered myself an atheist, too.

Then I didn’t.

            At first, the problem was The Portable Atheist. As I read, and was enjoying what other atheist writers had put to paper, I discovered I was repeating the same phrase: “Wait, Hitch said the same thing.” Halfway through the book, I realized, duh—all I found in Great had been said years before. Sadly, in Hitch, there was nothing new.

            I felt cheated. After all, atheists, at least those I hang with, worship Hitch. So, I decided to read God is Not Great once again.

            Jesus. What a disappointment.

            DISCLAIMER: I’m not arguing the merits of atheism, absurdities of religion, or how one should conduct their life, etc. I’m talking about the writing. I’m talking thesis, ethos, logos, etc. I’m talking sustained argument, ample/accurate research, and the true insight of an open mind.

            Okay. Go. 

This would have been infinitely more enjoyable.

            Sure, Hitch can string together sentences and turn clever phrases (Catholic priests molesting children = No Child’s Behind Left—hil-ar-ious!). Yet, mostly I felt like throwing the book across the room. What I found in this reading of Great was consistent historical errors and theological misinterpretations, logical fallacies galore, and an overall intellectual dishonesty with the targets of his mean-spirited accusations. Many times I wondered if any of it should be taken seriously. I even considered it might parody the New Atheist movement. But Hitch’s tiresome crusade in the years leading to his passing proves otherwise. The man was dead serious. Har-har.

#1 – Historical errors and theological misinterpretations – Toss aside the whole “some Jews still have sex through a sheet” thing. After complaints that this has always been untrue, Hitch withdrew the claim and apologized. In the afterword, he says it was a research oversight.

      Okay.

    But one glaring example is Hitch’s claim that Pope John Paul II “blessed” Tariq Aziz, Saddam Hussein’s Deputy Prime Minister and supposed hider of the country’s there-and-gone WMDs. Aziz was a Chaldean Catholic, and requested an audience with John Paul II in order to profess his country’s willingness to cooperate with international forces. John Paul responded by urging Aziz to follow the UN’s requests so that violence could be avoided. In a sense, he told Aziz to cut the shit. His “blessing” was, if anything, ceremonial. In no way was the Iraqi government, Aziz, or the crimes against humanity perpetrated by Hussein’s administration given the A-okay by JPII. It was not a seal of approval. Yet, Hitch sure makes it seem that way in the half-assed manner he tosses in this assertion that is of course meant to defame the Vatican as a religious institution and show how out of touch such institutions are wont to be.

Research oversight? Come on, Hitch. You’re better than that.

Or how about Dietrich Bonheoffer “not dying for Christian principles,” but humanism? I agree with Hitch’s point that atheists can do as much “good” as any believer. But Bonheoffer? Really? The guy who said as the Nazis were leading him to the gallows that his life “was just beginning?” Why not give historical examples of atheists doing “good” instead?

Because this is what all religions believe...yawn...

And Hitch, Justinian didn’t close the Old Academy because of Christian bias. He opened his own school that taught the same things—it was competition. He might have been a religious nut, but his nuttiness didn’t cause him to close down a center for philosophy (oh, the knee-jerk vocab—“philosophy”—that must mean science and reason!).

Or how about Tertullian, one of the Church fathers, condemning all unbelievers to Hell? Well, he only meant the Roman hierarchy who persecuted Christians, and given the bloodshed, who can blame him? Sure, the guy said some stupid shit in his lifetime, but at least get your theological context straight, Hitch.

Or how about firefighters “don’t eat pork” because it smells like human flesh? What?! Where is your scientific data Mr. Reason? I have several firefighters in my family that won’t turn down a tasty pork chop. Yes, yes, this claim connects to his chapter about religious prohibitions on swine and that one is a doozy, too. According to Hitch, pork was probably banned from dinner tables because it’s so closely related to us that the ancients couldn’t bear the experience of killing an animal that shares so many of our genes. Thing is, they didn’t know why this appalled them. It was an unconscious thing, you understand. Or something like that. You could skip the chapter if you wanted. It doesn’t add much.

And neither does the chapter titled “The Metaphysical Claims of Religion Are False.” Here, he presents no real arguments, and instead merely says miracles or promises of an afterlife are bogus since A) he doesn’t believe them, and B) such claims come from primeval history when people didn’t know “science.” I wish Hitch would’ve taken the time to explain what he thinks metaphysics is or would’ve taken the time, as David Bentley Hart aptly points out, to better understand Nietzsche’s “God is Dead” metaphor. But such scholarship would break his rhetoric. After all, Hitch is supposed to be arguing why religion poisons everything. Or that there is no god. Or that god sucks.

Here is the major problem with the book. What the hell is Hitch trying to say? It can’t be the rhetorical exaggeration that religion poisons everything. Never mind this unscientific claim, so abstract as to encompass nothing. Religion poisons art? Writing? The African fur trade? Yes, religion gets people to do fucked up things, but so does politics, social standing, consumerism, family. Etc, etc, etc. Who doesn’t know this? So, what’s your solution, Hitch? Do you have anything new to say? And please, for the love of all things holy, stop with the series of spotlight arguments. I get it—fundamentalist Hindus blaming the 2004 Indonesian tsunami on Christian missionaries is stupid, and so is Tim Dwight arguing against smallpox vaccinations, and so are Muslim extremists flying planes into buildings. I agree already. But in the words of George Costanza, “Give me something I can use!”

Again and again and again, Hitch refuses to gnaw the bone, to get to the marrow of the argument. Instead, he blah blahs.

The best example of his laziness is his use of Ockham’s razor. Does he know Ockham was a monk? I guess that doesn’t matter. Anyway, in Hitch’s world the Razor declares that the simplest theory is best, the one that makes the least assumptions. Still, this begs the question, why is there existence, natural laws, consciousness, etc.? Why is the key, not how. The simplest explanation isn’t best, but rather the simplest explanation that best explains phenomena and is justified by the complexity of the phenomena itself. Otherwise, we’ll end up asking the same question. It’s a metaphysical question!

I have no reason for including this other
than I thought it was cool. That atheist
druid is so freakin' ripped!

Yet, Hitch avoids this. Why? Well, then he’d have to say something new.

I could go on (don’t get me started on his New Testament chapter), but what would be the point? You get it. Yeah, sometimes religious people do things for stupid, backasswards religious reasons. Okay, in that I’m a believer. What then can/should we do? Well, we don’t solve it with pure vitriol, that’s for sure, ’cause where’s the reason in that?

In the end, Hitch and I share many beliefs, but as an author, philosopher and firebrand—and as a receiver of $15,000 checks for debating so-called “delusional people of faith” by pretty much reciting chapter and verse from Great at every venue—man, you’ve got to bring it better than this. Has our outrage at our failed cultural institutions, which is to say a failure in ourselves, grown so maddening that we accept and applaud Great as quality writing? Or are texts like these merely outlets for our frustrations? I wonder how Hitch’s heroes—Voltaire, David Hume, Spinoza, and the like—would react to experiencing his work as a shining example of modern intellectualism. To quote Voltaire: “It is easier to judge the mind of a man by his questions rather than his answers.”

Big, Bad Muslims: Part Four—24: Season Six

"Yes, I have dark skin...Okay, of course I can play a Muslim."

Another Muslim character suffers a narrative fate similar to Ahmed Amar.

At 7am, we meet Walid Al-Rezani, head of the Washington D.C. Islamic-American Alliance (a thinly-veiled pastiche on the CAIR), and boyfriend of Sandra Palmer, the President’s sister. Harry Lennix, a Chicago-born American of Creole ancestry, plays Walid with sympathetic calm.

The FBI arrives at the IAA to background check its workers. Sandra tells them, “You’re in the wrong place. There’re no terrorists here.”

Walid wants to cooperate. “We can’t pretend we’re not under attack,” he tells her.

Sandra calls her brother, outraged. “I’m not some idealistic flag-burner and I understand you’re going through a very complicated situation, but once you start ethnic profiling it’s a slippery slope.”

            Later, the FBI returns to the IAA with a warrant and Sandra erases the IAA employee computer records. Instead of arresting her, the FBI detains Walid and takes him to one of Tom Lennox’s secret detainee camps.

While being registered, Walid prevents an American soldier from harassing a Muslim who refuses a cavity search. As a result, the soldier beats Walid. Later, as he walks the detainee common area, Walid meets the man he saved, Salhib.

“Have you talked?” Salhib asks.

Walid replies, “I have nothing to tell them.”

Salhib mutters, “I’ll tell you something, brother. Before this day is over they will all pay.”

With Salhib exposed as a potential threat, Walid turns informant.   

"Hey, guys. What's happening? So, hey, are any of you, like, terrorists?"

            Here, 24 misses a crucial opportunity to dissect the mandates once proposed by the Bush regime and expose them as civil rights abuse. Instead, the show justifies the Bush claim that the threat of terrorism exists everywhere. The detainee camp is not a springboard for even-handed political examination, but a paranoid playground populated by seemingly average Muslims like Salhib, who are in fact terrorists.

After joyfully beating Walid to “create his cover,” the FBI forces Walid to wear a wire. Then, Walid joins Salhib’s friends in the camp. When Salhib asks what the FBI wanted, Walid tells him they demanded information about Abu Fayed. Suddenly, Salhib’s group is a militant band of brothers, united and ready to strike the American enemy. When Walid spots one of the men talking suspiciously on his cell phone, it dawns on the FBI, “He must be talking to Fayed!” Walid pickpockets the phone and discovers the man had only been accessing Arabic websites reporting Fayed’s activities. “These men aren’t terrorists,” Sandra tells the FBI. Yet what the show leaves unsaid is that while these men are not physically involved, they ideologically support Fayed. This perpetrates the myth that violence against the West is a Muslim way of life.

Walid, here comes the pain.

Of course, Walid is caught slipping the phone back into the man’s pocket. Salhib hisses, “You’re spying on us? You’re worse than they are!” The group of exposed terrorist supporters pummels Walid until the FBI intervenes and rushes him to the hospital.

Thus ends Walid’s storyline and all hope that 24 would examine Lennox’s detainee camps with any critical insight. The CAIR was especially disturbed by this. Its Los Angeles representative, Sireen Sawaf, told the BBC News, “I do realize it’s a multi-dimensional show that portrays extreme situations…[but] the overwhelming impression you get is fear and hatred for Muslims…Watching that show, I was afraid to go to the grocery store because I wasn’t sure the person next to me would be able to differentiate between fiction and reality.”

24 tried to claim it made Walid sympathetic to Americans. Yet, in his last scene, after being beaten by Salhib and his cohorts, his loyalty to America is broken. “I’m ashamed for spying on those men,” he tells Sandra. This is the last the viewer sees of him. Sandra goes to the White House bunker and never mentions him again. Like Ahmed, Walid is forgotten.

In Part 5, I’ll discuss Hamri Al-Assad, 24’s most interesting Muslim character.

Walid: "I'm ashamed of spying on those men. And this band-aid is real itchy."

Bibliography

“Day 4.” “Day 6.” 24. Fox, 2005, 2007.

“24 Under Fire from Muslim Groups.” BBC News. BBC News, 19 January 2007.

Armstrong, Stephen. "Rough Justice." New Statesman 136.4836 (2007): 36-38. 

Bauder, David. “TV Torture Influencing Real Life.” USA Today. 11 February 2007.

Dougherty, Michael Brendan. "What Would Jack Bauer Do?" American Conservative 6.5

(2007): 8-10. 

Flynn, Gillian. “24: TV Review.” Entertainment Weekly. 11 January 2007.

Halliday, Fred. 100 Myths About the Middle East. Los Angeles: University of California Press,

2005.

Irwin, Robert. Dangerous Knowledge: Orientalism and its Discontents. New York: Overlook

Press, 2006.

Lewis, Bernard. From Babel to Dragomans: Interpreting the Middle East. Oxford: Oxford

University Press, 2004.

McCormick, Patrick. "The Torture Show." U.S. Catholic 73.5 (2008): 17. 

McDermont, Jim. “A Trojan Horse.” America 196.7 (2007): 23-24.

Rossi, Melissa. What Every American Should Know About the Middle East. New York: Plume

Books, 2008.

Said, Edward. Orientalism. New York: Vintage, 1978.

Yuan, Jada. “The White-Castle Ceiling.” New York Magazine. 4 March 2007.

Rick Deckard: Man or Machine?

Fans of Blade Runner have debated the human/synthetic identity of bounty hunter Rick Deckard for years. In some circles, the debate encompasses the novel on which the film is based, Philip K. Dick’s sci-fi masterpiece Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? In Ridley Scott’s 1982 cinematic adaptation, Deckard is a hard-drinking bachelor whose mind seems influenced by his superiors in the L.A.P.D. This is made more evident in the 1992 Director’s Cut and 2007 Final Cut. Deckard, played by Harrison Ford, dreams of unicorns similar to the origami shapes crafted by his partner Inspector Gaff. These scenes combine with cryptic dialogue, like Gaff’s statement at the end of the film that Deckard ‘has done a man’s job,’ to suggest Deckard is synthetic. In various interviews, Scott has stated Deckard is, as per the lingo of the film, a replicant (android in the novel), albeit an unknowing one. Unfortunately, the film’s twist has over-shadowed Philip K. Dick’s one-hundred-percent human protagonist.

            In the 21^st century world, androids are physically identical to humans. Although similar models can be made, as Deckard discovers with the Rachael Rosen/Pris Stratton model, facial features and overall atheistic can be altered to change an android’s entire appearance. Even Deckard, a hardened bounty hunter, finds it hard to see the difference. His encounters with Rachel make him aware of how difficult it is to distinguish between man and machine.

            As realistic as androids appear, they lack one human quality: empathy. The Voigt Empathy Test ultimately decides who/what is human. This test registers reaction times to questions of 21^st century ethics. While androids can pick up these norms and adapt to the environment, their reaction times to these questions are slow. Their inability to express sympathy for other life forms gives them away. As Deckard puts it, “Empathy, evidently, existed only within the human community, whereas intelligence to some degree could be found throughout every phylum and order.”

Deckard has passed the Voigt Test. Medical checkups confirm he’s a man “who could reproduce within the tolerances set by law.” During Luba Luft’s interrogation, she asks Deckard to test himself. He tells her the police department tested him long ago. She persists, saying they gave him false memories. Phil Relsch, a fellow bounty hunter, tests Deckard to prove that he’s human. Deckard passes.

Yet, what complex human emotions does Deckard display that set him apart from his mechanical quarry?

            First, Deckard feels remorse for the androids he hunts, unlike his prey, who are solely concerned with their own survival. Though empathetic, Deckard is selfish, greedy, confused, and ponderous. Although he performs his joyless job as a bounty hunter with precision, he does not believe in the value of his work. For him, it serves only to fulfill monetary needs. Greed for wealth and prestige is a purely human emotion. If Deckard were an android he would not care about these things. To androids, money is just means of self-preservation (very human, too, you could say).

            In the novel, Deckard wants to replace his electrical sheep with a live one. “He thought, too, about his need for a real animal; within him an actual hatred once more manifested itself toward his electric sheep, which he had to tend, had to care about, as if it lived” (Dick 42). Deckard dislikes his sheep because it has no capacity to love him. He looks for reciprocity, a relationship. Androids, however, are apathetic toward life. This is exemplified at the novel’s end in John Isidore’s apartment where Pris Stratton nonchalantly tears the legs off a spider to the horror of Isidore. The questions that trip up Rachael during Deckard’s administration of the Voigt Empathy Test are ones directed to the care of animal life. A final example of Deckard’s empathy for animals is his sense of wonder when he picks up a toad and his disappointment when he discovers it is a robot.

            Other factors contribute to Deckard’s humanity: his concern for his wife, use of “mood organs,” and sexual attraction to Rachel. Deckard discusses sexual relations with androids with Phil Relsch and is disgusted when Relsch claims he’s used them for physical gratification. “It’s just sex. Wake up and face yourself, Deckard. You wanted to go to bed with a female type android—nothing more, nothing less. Don’t let it get you down.” Deckard tries to justify his feelings for Rachael as being grounded in actual love. He foolishly tells her, “If you weren’t an android, if I could legally marry you, I would.” Rachael, however, takes no joy in their coupling. She simply has sex with him to save the other androids. When Deckard finds out she has also slept with Phil Relsch, he’s jealous. These emotions—lust, love, anger—are emotions androids cannot experience.

            Or can they? 

To be or not to be...human?

This question encompasses the central question of Deckard’s 21^st century existence, “Am I human? Or am I programmed to believe I am human?” Although empathy may only be a human characteristic, why does the android Roy Batty cry when his wife is shot? Why is Rachael so hateful when she finds out she is an android? Why does Pris Stratton tear the legs off a spider but spare Isidore? Can empathy be developed (current studies point to yes)? If so, in experiencing human life, can androids become human?

The important thing is Blade Runner takes a minor plot device from the novel, the ability to implant false memories, and alters Deckard’s humanity. Philip K. Dick’s Rick Deckard is definitely human. And that’s Dick’s intent—who is the android? the unfeeling human who already possesses empathy by his very nature? or the “cold” machine who nevertheless strives to identify with the thoughts and feelings of other sentient beings?