Adam Roberts on TMIAHM (2)

Today I am going to continue my discussion of Adam Roberts’ review of Heinlein's The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.

First, I would like to focus on the main theme of Moon, libertarianism. Roberts conclusion about Heinlein’s opinion of libertarianism is similar to mine: Heinlein clearly supports it, but in Moon he points out some of its flaws. At first, this conclusion seems a bit off-base—throughout the book, the narrator glorifies small government and personal liberties. However, I believe—as does Roberts—that Heinlein portrays it this way because the reader is supposed to realize that he is hinting that such a society is too to be true. This is similar to the approach he used in Starship Troopers: the narrator raves about the advantages of fascism and militarism, but Heinlein expects the reader to see through his false arguments. The same can be said of his approach to polygamy and group marriage in Moon: thought Heinlein believes in both, he pokes fun at certain aspects of group marriage by portraying it as too perfect.

In the first half of the book, Heinlein focuses on the libertarian revolution itself. Again, though the narrative voice glorifies the revolution, in reality it is far from romantic. The revolution is not libertarian at all—from start to finish two or three individuals control it. The revolution is carried out with much help from the almost omnipotent computer Mike, who is almost certainly too good to be true. Heinlein leaves out all the messy details of revolution—for the most part the revolution is bloodless and pain-free. In other words: Heinlein is showing us a caricature, a parody of real revolution.  The revolutionaries themselves are far less respectable under the microscope as well—at first they appear to be a merry bunch of romantic idealists, but a closer look reveals that they have more in common with terrorists.

Later on, this satirical theme is still present. The small gang of characters who organized the revolution creates a mock-up of a democracy while they silence all opposition. Anyone who attempts to interfere with their policies in Congress is dubbed a “yammerhead” and is silenced by their majority. They rig an election to re-elect themselves, while at the same time declaring their support for democracy. This is certainly not a libertarian government in any sense—it reeks of authoritarianism and oligarchy. Interestingly, Heinlein portrays the blatant authoritarian rule as benevolent—he shows how a group of super intelligent overachievers could rule society very efficiently. This odd contrast makes the overall message of the novel somewhat unclear. I agree with Robert’s analysis: Heinlein is taking “relocating the political dynamic [of libertarian revolution] to the twenty-first century.” It is a utopian satire, but Heinlein is not fundamentally opposed to the system he is criticizing. 

Adam Roberts on TMIAHM (1)

Though I’ve talked about it again, again, and again, but I can’t resist. By “it” I mean Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, my favorite novel. After skimming through it again and reading a review and analysis by the literary critic Adam Roberts, I would like to discuss the political messages of Moon once again. The review can be found here for all those who would like to read it. Today’s post contains some plot spoilers, so if you plan on reading Moon recommend you wait and read this afterwards.

Roberts also discusses racial equality as a major message of Moon. Like in many of his other books, the main character is revealed to be a “person of color” about halfway through, after the reader already likes him as a character. Heinlein satires American racism, highlighting it with Kentucky’s violent reaction to the main character, a person with a “range of color” in his family.  Lastly, Roberts points out that Heinlein ends the novel with a “person of color” pressing the button to destroy American cities. This is quite radical for 1966, and people reading it back then probably felt differently about the ending than we do now. This is probably emphasized by the fact that Heinlein describes ending with gusto and panache—it probably comes off as somewhat offensive for less progressive readers.

Roberts then goes on to compare the revolutionary war in Moon to the Vietnam War. Roberts writes, “the whole scenario of a war between Earth (a large, populous, technologically-advanced world) and the Moon (a small, technologically-backward nation of farmer struggling for independence) presents a penetrating commentary upon the international events of 1966.” Roberts is obviously talking about the Viet Cong. Viewed this way, some of the events and quotes have a new, double meaning. Many of the Luna revolutionaries believe that Earth can destroy them, but if the revolutionaries make it look like it will be difficult to do so perhaps Earth will back off. Heinlein also uses the Moon’s lower gravity as a metaphor for the US being unprepared for Vietnam—in the novel, the soldiers from Earth struggle with the new gravity and are ambushed by the Moon-dwellers before they have time to adapt. This analogy is extended even further when Heinlein explains the difficulty the Earth armies have of finding the “Loonies” in their underground caverns—very similar to the difficult the Americans had locating the Viet Cong. Also, there is much discussion of the way news is broadcast on Earth—the media on Earth condemns the Lunar colony when they kill civilians in the war (which they did out of necessity) but it ignores the fact that they, the peoples of Earth, are trying to do the same thing. Though I doubt Heinlein had too much sympathy for the Viet Cong, Moon does put the war in a different light by showing us the war from the opposite perspective.

Roberts also points out that many of the other events in Moon speak out against the average American’s “Americanocentric” views of the time. To the Lunar colony, America is the main force that stands in the way of independence; rather than being portrayed as spreading freedom, the US is shown as an imperialist/colonialist power. Says Roberts, “Independence and freedom for Luna is not code for 'independence and freedom for America', but rather 'independence and freedom from America'.” Interestingly, this is contrasted by many of the book’s parallels to the American Revolution—the characters quote Thomas Paine, Jefferson, and Patrick Henry, draft a Declaration of Independence and Constitution, and have a very 1776-like issue with taxation. However, this is probably just because Heinlein is using this to prove is point that a true libertarian society exists along the frontier. As he hints at the end of Moon, even the Moon is becoming more and more populated and a more centralized government is evolving. Like Marx, Heinlein is hinting that history follows something of a pattern—but for Heinlein, who believes that libertarianism is ideal, this is a vicious cycle: libertarian societies exist only for short periods of time, and then the frontier moves again.

Tomorrow I will conclude this series with an analysis of Robert’s take on Moon’s main theme, libertarianism. 

“The enemy’s gate is down”

The quote above comes from Orson Scott Card’s science fiction novel Ender’s Game, which I am going to talk about briefly today. Ender’s Game helped to establish Card as a notable science-fiction author, and it spawned several sequels that follow the main characters from Ender’s Game. The book won both the Hugo and the Nebula awards, which is an astonishing feat that only a few SF novels have ever achieved. (Warning: I am going to give away some plot details, so don't read the next paragraph if you don't to hear how the book ends.) 

The novel bears some striking similarities to Starship Troopers, which I have been talking about a lot recently. As in Heinlein’s controversial classic, mankind is at war with insectoid, hive-minded aliens, and as a result a very militaristic culture has taken hold of Earth. The plot chronicles the story of Ender Wiggin, a genius six-year-old American boy who is conscripted into the military. Ender is shipped off to Battle School, an orbiting space station where similar gifted children are taken to learn military strategy. The children are educated in military tactics with the use of games, notably something known as the Battle Room. This is a zero-gravity chamber in which opposing teams fight in a mock battle with pretend laser guns, similar to a paintball match. There, Ender revolutionizes the game by showing his peers how to use the ability to pick which direction is up in zero-g and how to use that to one’s advantage. (This is where the line “The enemy’s gate is down” comes from—Ender orients himself so that the other sides of the room is down, not forward, so that his legs shield him from enemy fire.) Ender’s strategic genius is soon recognized by the high command, and he is shipped off to another military academy, where he learns military strategy on a larger scale. Soon Ender is forced to command an entire “fleet” in a strenuous series of computer-simulated battles; eventually he becomes so fed up that in one such simulation he completely obliterates an enemy planet so that the game will end and he can stop playing it. After this, it is revealed that this was not a simulation—he actually commanded a fleet and destroyed the alien planet remotely. Ender is then paralyzed by guilt, particularly after traveling to a former enemy planet and realizing that the enemy was not as ruthless as he once thought. The book ends with Ender’s decision to travel and speak for the race he unknowingly destroyed.

Like Starship Troopers, Ender’s Game subtly comments on wartime culture, particularly racism. In the novel, the official term for the aliens is the Formics, but the derogatory slang term “Buggers” is far more prominent. On Earth, the term “Bugger” has become the worst kind of insult. Also, in one scene near the beginning of the novel, it is explained that children play a game called “Buggers and Astronauts,” in which the children stage a pretend battle. Ender remarks that these games often get very violent, and those forced to play the Buggers are often brutally beat up. Though the world government is not as fascist as its counterpart in Starship Troopers, the message that people have a duty to the state is very clear. One character, a military officer, remarks that “human beings are free except when humanity needs them.” This theme is also present in the psychological trickery used to coax out Ender’s brutal side, which the military needs in order to win the war.

Additionally, like in Starship Troopers, the theme of Social Darwinism is ever-present in Ender’s Game. Ender’s normally compassionate self is often forced into being ruthless and cruel. At one point, Ender comments that “The power to cause pain is the only power that matters, the power to kill and destroy, because if you can't kill then you are always subject to those who can, and nothing and no one will ever save you.” This struggle between compassion and ruthlessness is the chief conflict of the book. Interesting, even thought the military is being cruel to Ender by forcing him to fight the Buggers, they justify this claim by saying that they are showing compassion by protecting humanity.

Unlike Starship Troopers, the true message of Ender’s Game is not only subtle but also quite mysterious. Though there are many anti-war themes present in the novel, it is still on the reading lists of many military academies. Card asks many questions, but does not always provide answers. Heinlein, on the other hand, is all about giving answers, whether they are purposely wrong or not.

Overall I strongly recommend the book; it is a fascinating read, short and sweet. I doubt this is the last you will hear about Ender’s Game; many of its themes are universal, and many of its questions remain unanswered.              

On “Starship Troopers” (part 3)

I realize I have been discussing a lot of Robert A. Heinlein's fiction on this blog, and I would like to justify it. I have a strong predilection for Heinlein's works, mostly because of his remarkable ability to blend philosophical topics and entertaining science fiction. After all, he did help found the genre of "classic" science fiction, and because of the nature of what he discusses in his works, Heinlein novels are the perfect topics for this blog. Anyway, on to business: today I would like to talk about some more of the political concepts Heinlein explores in Starship Troopers.

First, I would like to continue my discussion of whether Starship Troopers is a fascist manifesto or a libertarian one. Though the narrator’s voice is clearly fascist and slightly militarist, I believe Heinlein has inserted a few hints to show the reader that he is not actually promoting fascism.

Throughout the book there are several “messages” that the characters meant to represent authority or reason pound into the head of the main character: the idea that individuals have duties to the state, Social Darwinism, and the rejection of Marxian communism. Also, note that even though the system in Starship Troopers is democratic, it does not rule with the approval of everyone it governs. However, though the main character describes this system as idea, Heinlein inserts some very subtle clues that hint at his real message.

The first is the belief that “all wars arise from population pressure.” Heinlein’s characters half-prove this with his assertion that man is a wild animal, but the quote is actually an obvious reference to Hitler, who once said something similar. Also, one of the characters goes on to assert that even the Crusades were caused by population pressure, which is obviously wrong. The character then goes on to say:

“Nevertheless, let's assume the human race manages to balance birth and death... and thereby becomes peaceful. What happens? Soon (about next Wednesday) the Bugs move in, kill off this breed which 'ain't gonna study war no more' and the universe forgets us.... Both races are tough and smart and want the same real estate....But does man have any 'right' to spread throughout the universe?...The universe will let us know—later—whether or not Man has any 'right' to expand through it.”

This Social Darwinist perspective is a clear satire of fascism, and it hints at the fact that Heinlein’s message is not what it seems.

The next clue is the most obvious: one of the characters states: “The basis of all morality is duty, a concept with the same relation to group that self-interest has to individual. [In 20^th century America] nobody preached duty...the society they were in told them endlessly about their "rights"…No nation, so constituted, can endure.”

This is an obvious clue because of Heinlein’s proclamation of his libertarian views; in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, he proudly declares that the state can never place it’s survival over an individual.

At first, Heinlein’s libertarian views seem to clash with his opinions about sacrificing oneself to help others. However, there is actually no conflict between the two: Heinlein wanted society to give people the freedom to do what they want, but he greatly respects those who are willing to work to help others. A society which subjugates people and forces people to live for others—or for the state—is something else entirely.

Heinlein also makes references to the POW’s rumored to be held by the North Koreans and Chinese after the Korean War; in the novel, one of the characters (a professor) explains that if an enemy nation holds prisoners, the number of people is irrelevant—if even one prisoner is kept, that is enough justification to start a war. This viewpoint reflected that of many Americans at the time, though I am not entirely sure if Heinlein is speaking for of against it.

Tomorrow I will discuss Ender’s Game, which is an excellent science-fiction novel that was written in response to Starship Troopers. 

On “Starship Troopers” (part 2)

Today I am going to discuss some of the philosophical aspects of Robert A. Heinlein’s Starship Troopers. Yesterday I addressed some of the many criticisms of the novel, and today I will extend this to philosophical criticisms.

The first and most important aspect of Starship Troopers is militarism, fascism, and ultra-patriotism. In the novel, human society has consolidated into a single world government, “the Federation.” This government is democratic, but only “public servants”—veterans—can run for office and vote. Indeed, veterans are referred to as “citizens”, and everyone else is simply “civilians.” Furthermore, the society is portrayed as being very close to ideal, and because of this Heinlein was harshly criticized for promoting militarism.

I believe the answer is a bit more complicated than this. Starship Troopers is somewhat militaristic in that is does glorify patriotism and the military, but it is important to remember that Heinlein speaks out strongly against conscription, which he refers to disgustingly as “slave armies.” The military force in Starship Troopers is a volunteer force, and Heinlein emphasizes that the military cannot turn anyone down; they must allow everyone a chance to perform public service. However, recruiting stations are present in every school in Starship Troopers, and students are required to take a class called History and Moral Philosophy, which is simply a teacher lecturing on why to join the army. The whole culture of the society is based very much around the military, and “citizens” are glorified. In terms of prosperity, the society Heinlein describes is so ideal it is almost utopian—and remember that the original definition of utopia is “no place,” a society too perfect to exist. The justification for the society is rooted in the idea that man is simply a wild animal, without any higher moral authority. This theme is prevalent thought the novel, and though it does justify mankind’s war with the novel’s aliens it does not fully account for the nature of the society. One of the characters defends the society by saying that veterans are more responsible than non-veterans, and they are more qualified to vote because they are lacking in civic virtue. To put it politely, this completely absurd. A government of veterans would be just as corrupt and inefficient as a regular one, and civic virtue is not as important as intelligence when voting. I suspect that this justification, along with the fact that the society is portrayed as ideal, is not meant to be taken as face value: it is actually satire. In many other books, Heinlein satires a concept by pretending to promote it; here, though he does show militarism in a positive light in some ways, Heinlein is mocking the society he is describing. The only part of it that has any legitimacy is the idea that man is a wild animal, which his reflected in some of his other novels.

Additionally, there are several famous soliloquies in the novel, in which Heinlein comments on various philosophical topics. I have already discussed one of these in a previous post, but I would like to tackle another one.

The first is a speech given by the teacher of a History and Moral Philosophy class. In it, the teacher justifies corporal punishment, stating that because man has no moral instinct, our moral sense must be cultivated with cause-and-effect learning. He compares it to raising a puppy, saying that if a puppy were never scolded for doing something wrong he would never learn. He then goes on to relate this to juvenile delinquents, stating that minor criminals must be punished so that they learn proper morals. The idea of moral sense rather than moral instinct is very prevalent in all of Heinlein’s works, so I suspect that this speech is not a mockery or a satire. Here I agree with Heinlein in terms of the concept of moral sense, but I disagree in the corporal punishment is not always necessary to cultivate moral sense.

Also, Heinlein viciously attacks communism in Starship Troopers. Though Heinlein was a leftist in his early days, the left of the 40’s understood the fundamental difference between socialism and communism; Heinlein was a socialist but not a communist. In Starship Troopers, Heinlein calls Marx a “pompous fraud,” and denounces Plato’s The Republic as “weird in the extreme.” He bashes Marx’s labor theory of value, explaining how the theory pales in comparison to the traditional supply and demand model. Also, the alien race in the novel, the Bugs, is a hive-mind organism. Heinlein uses them to speak out against communism as well; he admits that communism is useful for a species evolved for it, but he still points out many flaws in the Bugs' society. Here Heinlein is not equivocating or being subtle—his message is abundantly clear. For whatever reason, Heinlein has a serious personal vendetta against communism, and it is very apparent in his works.

Tomorrow I will cover more of the philosophical and political aspects of Starship Troopers. 

On “Starship Troopers” (part 1)

Today I would like to discuss one of my favorite books, Robert A. Heinlein’s extremely controversial science-fiction novel Starship Troopers. The book was so popular—and so controversial—that has spawned a B-movie series and has become a permanent fixture in the history of “classic” science fiction. I would like to address several of the concepts explored in the novel, as well as some of the book’s criticisms.

The plot of Starship Troopers is relatively simple: the novel follows a Filipino infantryman’s plight through a futuristic boot camp and into a war with insect-like aliens.

However, the plot is probably the least important aspect of the novel—Heinlein fills it to the brim with lectures about politics, philosophy, social issues, and economics. There is far more description and discussion than dialogue or action, and most of the time the plot and the character development take a back seat.

The main complaint Heinlein received was that Starship Troopers glorifies the military. Because Heinlein was discharged from the Navy for tuberculosis just before WWII, many complain that he knows nothing about war. Heinlein denied the claim that the book was militaristic, since all of the army recruits in Starship Troopers are volunteers, and at the time the book was written the draft was still in use. He also stated that the infantry deserves to be glorified, because they are rarely appreciated. On the whole, though, Heinlein’s picture of the military is unrealistic—I doubt any army in history ever saw so much action. And, even though Heinlein states that war is something to be endured, not enjoyed, he does glorify patriotism and dying for one’s country.

Heinlein was also criticized for racism. This complaint, though, must be dismissed immediately: Heinlein was one of the most progressive thinkers of his time when it came to race—few of his books feature white protagonists (including Starship Troopers, whose protagonist is Filipino), and his attitudes toward race are clearly explained in his other books, sometimes in eyebrow-raising ways. (For example: in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, written in the early 1960’s, the main character, a person of  “mixed race” drops bombs on North America.) What critics are referring to in Starship Troopers is Earth’s attitude toward the aliens—they are referred to as “Bugs” or similar derogatory terms. In fact, what Heinlein is doing is showing what happens to a culture dominated by militarism; he is portraying racism in a negative way. This is probably a reference to the Korean War, which had just ended when the book was published, and WWII (the internment of Japanese Americans).

The book has also come under fire from literary critics. Many complain that his character are undeveloped, the plot is almost non-existent, and Heinlein’s lecturing dominates the novel. Though all of these claims are clearly true, these critics are incorrect in saying that Heinlein’s fiction suffers because of his writing style. Starship Troopers (and many of his other works that feature excessive lecturing) remain hugely popular, proving that the public does not share the same view as these critics. For this reason, Heinlein is clearly not “lecturing at the expense of his fiction.”

Interestingly, Starship Troopers spawned the subgenre of “military science fiction,” which is ironic because there are so few action scenes in the novel. Scores of books were written in response to it, including Ender’s Game, The Forever War, Armor, and many others. Starship Troopers is on the reading list of several military academies, and the military is currently researching the concept of “powered armor,” which was first mentioned in the book.

Tomorrow, I will discuss some of the philosophical topics explored in the novel. 

Clarke and the mind

In many of his works of science fiction, Arthur C. Clarke often muses about the concept of the mind. In books such as 2001, Childhood’s End, he toys with the idea that there is “something special” about the mind. He suggests that human beings will eventually learn to become independent of their bodies, and that their minds will be amorphous, “free from the tyranny of matter.” But is there any substance to all this, or Clarke just being poetic? In other words, is this really possible?

I think the answer depends on the exact nature of the mind. Clarke never explicitly stated if he believed in the concept of a soul, but he always attached a kind of importance to consciousness and self-awareness. However, I think he had a very scientific reason to do so—he hinted in his novels that he had a somewhat deterministic view of the mind—he often portrays it as a computer, a processing machine—but with the ability to connect with the supernatural. Clarke probably figured that the brain, the physical component of the mind, could be mutated or rebuilt (as computers have proved to a certain extent).This seems in accordance with the entities described in his books; in works such as the 2001 series, he describes an alien race that gradually becomes machine-like.

However, Clarke also goes one step further. He states that minds can eventually become contained in “lattices of light.” In other words, he is saying that the mind can be reproduced with non-physical materials such as light. This, of course, it pure speculation, and we probably do not possess enough knowledge of the universe to confirm if this is possible.

But what about the mind’s connection with the supernatural, which Clarke focuses on in novels like Childhood’s End? (In this novel, there is much discussion of the paranormal, and almost all of the characters have ethereal or otherworldly visions.) At first, this seems to conflict with the idea that the mind can be reproduced ad physically altered—after all, a deterministic view of the mind cannot explain the supernatural. However, I think that Clarke simply thought of the mind as more than the sum of its parts. Though I am critical of this view, the supernatural has yet to be explained—and Clarke may be closer to the truth than I would like to believe. 

On “The Last Question”

Inspired by Asimov’s The Last Answer, I have decided to talk about another of his famous short stories, The Last Question. In this story, a computer called AC ponders whether entropy can be reversed. However, it does not come up with the answer until after the universe undergoes heat death. At the end, the computer discovers the answer and decides to demonstrate it:

“And AC said, ‘LET THERE BE LIGHT!’ And there was light—”

Of course, this brings up some interesting questions. First of all, Asimov is referencing the concept of the technological singularity, the idea that technology increases at an exponential rate, and that it will eventually increase infinitely fast so that it encompasses everything. However, I have some doubts about this. If the world were to have a nuclear war or fall into a worldwide depression (both somewhat realistic!), wouldn’t the rate technology is being invented at decrease? After all, technology is probably dependent on the economy (and certainly on the world population). If such an event were to occur, we may never reach this technological singularity.

Asimov is also making an amusing statement about the creation story. (A devout atheist, he often derides religion in his writing.) In The Last Question, he is toying with the definition of God by exploring how an omniscient computer could possible “become” God. If the concept of the technological singularity is true, this is possible—an intriguing yet frightening thought.

But don’t look for this in your lifetime—one thing Asimov hammers home in this story is the stretched-out timeline. If it happens at all, the technological singularity will not happen for billions of years, and our moral, ephemeral bodies simply won’t last that long. 

Heinlein’s moon colony (part 2)

In my last post on this topic, I discussed the practicality of the food-producing moon colony from Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. This time, I would like to talk about the cultural and societal aspects of the novel.

In the novel, the moon colony’s society is ultra-capitalist, dependent on technology, multi-cultural and polygamous. The society in general is portrayed as being utopian, or at least close to it. However, I suspect that Heinlein is employing a technique he has used in other novels, such as Starship Troopers. He will often write novels from a first-person perspective, and the main character will proceed to describe the society as ideal. (In the case of Starship Troopers, as fascist and militaristic society.) However, Heinlein himself does not agree with what he is writing about, and he often drops hints to the reader that the society he is describing is not as perfect as it seems.

Many credulous readers probably believe that the society in Moon is Heinlein’s idea of a utopia, though, since it is very close to his political philosophy. However, I am not entirely convinced, and I would like to examine the novel further.

Firstly, I would like to talk about the multiculturalism Heinlein describes in Moon. Though the main character repeatedly emphasizes how the Lunar colony is a melting pot and haven of multiculturalism, this is clearly not the case. The society is influenced mostly by Russian culture—most of the cities described have Russian names, everyone speaks with a Russian accent, and Russian words are prevalent in the novel. Chinese and Indian culture are briefly mentioned as being somewhat of an influence, but European, African, Middle Eastern, or Latin American culture is not mentioned at all. The last is particularly important to note because in his other works Heinlein often describes Latin culture as becoming more prominent in the future. In fact, the only South American character in the book, Professor Bernardo de la Paz, displays no signs of being Latin American at all, besides speaking Spanish—he exhibits no Latin American culture whatsoever. Because of this, I think Heinlein is describing a farce of multiculturalism, and he is showing us how difficult to achieve the “melting pot” really is. 

Next, I would like to discuss the ultra-capitalism found in Moon. The people of the moon colony—the “Loonies”—are laissez-faire to a fault; their motto is TANSTAAFL (an acronym for “There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch”, a word Heinlein made up), and they are vehemently against the concept of taxation or anything socialized. They even are against the idea of free air! This overdone capitalist spirit, I think, is the most quixotic aspect of Moon’s society, and Heinlein is certainly sending a message here. Though Heinlein eventually became must more right-wing as he got older, Moon was written in the 60’s—recall that only a few years earlier he was a leftist, and in his youth he was a socialist! Though I am no expert on Heinlein by any means, I don’t believe he would write a pro-capitalist work at this time—it seems out of place in terms of the other novels he was writing in the 60’s. Regardless, some of the flaws of this kind of system are clearly mentioned in the novel, whether intentional or not.

Also, I think it is necessary to examine a theme that often goes overlooked, the idea of too much reliance on technology. In his later years, Heinlein began to distrust computers and artificial intelligence (and excoriate them in his works), and I think he is making his message quite clear in Moon. In the novel, the self-aware computer Mike is essential to the lunar revolution—too essential. He can listen in on anyone by wiretapping them, assassinate someone by cutting off their air supply, and hurl large rocks at Earth. He funds the entire venture by printing fiat money (albeit in small amounts and using a series of ruses to allay suspicion). At the end of the novel, after Mike’s “death,” the other characters have difficulty doing anything without his advice. Clearly, Heinlein is pointing out the dangers of having a centralized computer in charge of everything. On this point I believe be may be correct—if such a computer were to be perfidious or malicious, the results would be disastrous.

Lastly, I would like to talk about the polygamy found in the novel. The group marriage system in the lunar colony in Moon is described as very successful, and it manages to keep the society stable despite an imbalance in the ratio of males to females. Here I believe Heinlein is being sincere—he has often lauded group marriage in many of his works, and I think he truly believes, as I do, that it has great potential. In many of his novels he acknowledges that it currently possesses as huge social stigma, but he hopes that in the future people will come to adapt it.

To conclude—the system Heinlein is describing should be examined with a grain of salt. In some cases he is actually pointing out the flaws in a certain aspect of it, as he does in Starship Troopers. However, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress remains my favorite novel despite this somewhat pessimistic technique. 

Jerry was a man—then again, maybe not

The “Jerry” that I’m talking about is a character from Robert A. Heinlein’s short story “Jerry Was a Man.” Jerry is a “Joe,” or a genetically altered chimpanzee/human mix used to perform manual labor. In the story, a not-too-bright rich woman feels empathy for the Joes, and she files suit against the genetic engineering company Workers, Inc. that creates them. In court her lawyer argues that it is illegal for Workers, Inc. to create and kill these Joes because they are men, not creatures or property (hence the title).

In the story, the lawyer “proves” that Jerry is a man. First, he defines the term man:

“What is a man? A collection of living cells and tissue? A legal fiction, like this corporate ‘person’ that would take poor Jerry’s life? No, a man is none of these things. A man is a collection of hopes and fears, of human longings, of aspirations greater than himself—more than the clay from which he came; less the Creator which lifted him up from the clay…[manhood] is not a matter of shape, nor race, nor planet of birth, nor acuteness of mind. Truly, it cannot be defined, yet it may be experienced. It can reach from heart to heart, from spirit to spirit.”

He then calls up a Martian witness, who has “superior intelligence.” The Martians states cynically that there is little difference between an anthropoid such a Jerry and human beings. Finally, Jerry sings a song for the court, which is the conclusive piece of evidence that he is “a man." So, I have to ask—is this just Heinlein sounding off on personal responsibility like he usually does, or is there a legitimate idea here?

First, I think we have to look at the definition of mankind Heinlein uses. He says that being a man has nothing to do with physical form—instead, it is a more spiritual kind of definition. But which is correct? Unfortunately for the reader I’m going to have to drop a big old “don’t know” on this one. This is far too cosmic a question for me to even guess at. However, I will lay out what my analysis would be if the definition were a certain way:

If the definition of man is dependent on a physical characteristic, then it is safe to say Jerry is not a man.  If it is dependent on some spiritual aspect of humankind, we have many options. Some might argue that since Jerry is an artificial creation, he has no soul and is therefore not a man. Others, though, might say that the fact he was created in a test tube is not relevant—he still has a soul and is still a man. As far I am concerned, the argument over whether or not people have souls is not over, so I cannot commit to either option.

In any case, I think Heinlein is on to something here. We may very well face this dilemma in the future, as the science of genetic manipulation continues to advance. I hope that by the time we reach this point we will have solved this moral problem. 

On "The Last Answer"

I promise to discuss The Moon is a Harsh Mistress again—but for now, I’d like to talk about a story by Isaac Asimov, The Last Answer. In this short story, a man’s soul is preserved by a God-like creature, which keeps people’s minds alive so that they can “think of something new.” The man responds that he does not want to do this, but he realizes that the only way out of the situation is to think of a way to kill the God-like creature. Asimov says that this is the “last answer,” which is what the God-creature desired all along. One of the last lines in the story is:

“For what could any Entity, conscious of eternal existence, want–but an end?”

However, I think Asimov is wrong, or, at least, not necessarily right. He is making the assumption that any eternal being would want an end. But this begs the question—why would such a being want an end? (Or we can ask the opposite question, why wouldn’t such a being want an end?) Though there are reasons why an eternal entity would or would not want an end, they all depend on its psychology. If such a being existed, it could have a temperament that would make it want to commit suicide, or it could have one that would not make it want to commit suicide—we have no way of knowing.

Also, I am not sure about another aspect of the story: In the narrative, the eternal being creates the universe to “introduce random factors” to help it think of new things. I have difficult visualizing this—how is it that a (presumably) omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent entity does not know everything? But, in the end, I suppose it depends on the exact nature of the eternal being. To sum it up—Asimov’s description of an eternal being is not necessarily accurate—he humanizes the creature, and makes many assumptions about its nature. A fine story, but by no means philosophically accurate.  

Heinlein’s moon colony (part 1)

As I have mentioned before, my favorite book is Robert A. Heinlein’s science fiction novel The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. I have begun rereading it again, which I do about once every year. In this novel, revolutionaries on a lunar colony carry out a revolution against Earth, which owns the colony. In the story, the original purpose of the lunar colony is to grow wheat to export to Earth, which is suffering from serious overpopulation problems. After reading about half of it, I began to wonder: could this be a practical program for the future? Could the moon be exploited in this way?

This question is multi-faceted and deserves a careful analysis. Firstly, is this technologically possible? As far as I can tell, the answer is yes. In the book, wheat is farmed in tunnels using hydroponics and ultraviolet light. Both of these are widespread today, and hydroponics is becoming very popular. The technology required to transport whatever materials are need to the moon certainly exist, as does the equipment needed to drill tunnels and make them airtight. The biosphere has been perfected over several decades, so it would also be safe to say that the technology exists to support the “farmers” and their crops on the moon. In order to ship food down, Heinlein suggests a magnetic “catapult” to launch barges of grain down to Earth. This is by no means pure fantasy—MagLev trains illustrate the potential of electromagnetism, and I have no doubt that such a catapult could be developed. Also, remember that the moon sits on top of Earth’s gravity well—with a small push, an object can simply “fall” down to Earth, and land safely with simple retro rockets and/or parachutes.

The second part of the question is: Is this practical and/or feasible? I believe the answer is yes, if we look at the project as a long term investment. The initial cost is going to be very high—in the beginning, fuel, personnel, seeds, and many truckloads worth of equipment must be shuttled up to the moon. Once we get past this initial setback, though, the cost of maintaining the project is much lower. Lunar metal can be used to create more drilling equipment, and lunar ice can support more farms. The most expensive parts of the project from here on in are shipping up of chemicals and whatever supplies cannot be produced on the moon, and the creation of the “catapult” to ship food down to Earth. Eventually, though, the returns will be enormous—food, particularly grain, can be shipped to Earth at any time of year, and it can “land” in any part of the world. If food prices continue to rise as the world population increases, grain will become a very valuable commodity, and it will fetch a very high price.  

But what are the implications of such a project, and is it in fact worth it? As I read more, I’ll continue to think about it and write another post about it. I will also do some research and get some numbers—I’m interested to see if this is actually mathematically feasible. 

Isaac Asimov, mass action, and Jared Diamond

In 1951 classic science fiction writer Isaac Asimov published the first novel in his groundbreaking Foundation series. In this novel, a group of scientists preserve knowledge as the civilization around them collapses. They are encouraged by messages left in a time capsule by a sociologist/mathematician who was able to predict the future using the laws of mass action. This sociologist was able to create models to predict mankind’s actions over long periods of time. The idea was that it is impossible to predict specific events, but it is possible to foresee the general course of history.

Of course, this begs the question: Is it really possible?  Does our history follow a particular pattern, and can we apply this pattern to the future?

To answer this, we must first look back at our past. For most of our history, humanity consisted of small, nomadic tribes who survived by hunting and gathering plants for food. During this time, our history was very predictable. The population of each tribe was balanced by the fact that a tribe that was either too small a tribe or too large could not survive. Disease, starvation and violent death also kept our population in check. Our movements were predictable, since it was necessary to move from area to area because we could only gather a certain amount of food per hectare before it was time to move on. The types of societies we lived in did not very much—none were very large or had any kind of centralized government. Technology remained stagnant, and apart from weather and climate there were no significant random factors.

However, around a few thousand years B.C. there was a huge shift in the course of human history. According to Jared Diamond, author of the Pulitzer Prize winning book Guns, Germs, and Steel, the reason was agriculture. Around this time agriculture began to evolve, and everything changed. According to the book (of which I am a huge fan), agriculture made societies sedentary and allowed for specialization because of the increased amount of food produced. This led to larger populations, more complex societies, government, and labor. Now societies had soldiers, leaders, craftsmen, and, most importantly, inventors. Society allowed for technology to increase, and technology, as we will see, became the factor that most influenced the path of history.

According to Diamond, societies with agriculture proceeded to destroy or subjugate those without it. They do this by using guns, germs, and steel, all of which stemmed from agriculture. However, though Diamond is correct in saying that technology would not have increased so rapidly (if at all) without agriculture, he ignores the random factors involved in the way that technology affects history. In Guns, Germs, and Steel Diamond supports social determinism, the belief that technology’s use is determined by culture.

However, he ignores the fact that cultures are changed by technology, and that cultures change very rapidly with respect to history. For example, though the telephone was initially rejected, once it became widely accepted, it had profound effects on our culture. Though culture determines if an invention is put to use, that invention may have the unintended effect of changing the culture drastically. Furthermore, technology does not increase at a constant rate. Believers in the concept of the technological singularity assert that technology advances in an exponential curve, but recent evidence has shown that this is not exactly the case. This is probably because technology is also influenced by economic, social, and environmental factors.

Furthermore, in modern history the economy has an enormous role in deciding the path of history. Currently, mathematics and economics have not evolved to the point where we can accurately predict the direction the economy is going to go. This is because modern economics are highly complicated, and, as economists often forget, the economy is influenced by the environment and the distribution of natural resources. Since we do not understand the impact the spread of resources has on the economy and we do not know where the natural resources of the future are located or even what they are, we have no way of predicting the economy many years from now. 

Even if were could accurately predict the general pattern the economy, history is not predictable in the short term (say, decades or centuries) because the growth of technology is unpredictable. If we were to look in the long term, (long enough for the increase of technology to be roughly a parabola) we would run into other problems: Climate change affects history in the long term, and current models are not sufficient to predict the climate thousands or tens of thousands of years from now. Next, remember that “modern” history has only existed for about five thousand years—this is not enough data to use to predict the next hundred thousand years. 

If you need even more evidence, chaos theory is looking better and better—and if minor occurrences can change the course of history, as the theory suggests, predicting human history using the laws of mass action is completely impossible. 

1984 vs. Brave New World

This is something of a follow-up to my post on Brave New World. You may have been wondering: what happens if we look at George Orwell’s 1984 in the same way? If we evaluate them by the same criteria, is the result the same, or different?

We must remember that Oceania in 1894 is very different from the World State in Brave New World. The World State ensures order by painless social conditioning; in 1984, the government insures order by importuning each and every citizen with questions, inspection, and most important, fear. As Neil Postman put it:

“What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one.”

Recall that happiness was one of our most important criteria in assessing BNW. This is the most important difference between the two—1984 relies on fear and hate to keep the system running—the World State does not. In BNW, each caste is happy where they are, and the society is maintained with positive feedback. In 1984, though the Inner Party is satisfied, the Outer Party lives in perpetual fear, and the Proles are impoverished, maudlin, and depressed.

Also, the economy in 1984, though balanced, does not provide enough food or goods for its citizens—many people do not have enough to eat, and there is constantly shortage of something. Because of this, 1984 ranks far lower than BNW overall.

However, 1984 does not fail the second piece of criteria we used when judging BNW. Both societies are relatively stable and are far from being on the verge of collapse. This, however, is outweighed by the aforementioned negative qualities—if anything, having longevity only make 1984 worse, since it means that the society will be forever trapped in this sadistic phase.

Many would also argue that 1984 is a dystopia because of its excessive use of brainwashing. However, brainwashing is not inherently evil in and of itself. In 1984, though, it is painful and barbaric, whereas in BNW the social conditioning is almost painless and is relatively subtle.

To conclude—because it encourages perpetual war, confusion, and bigotry, 1894’s Oceania is clearly a dystopia. Though it is just as stable as BNW, it is not ideal because it does not provide happiness and security for its citizens. 

Federalists in space

When we think of space colonization, we think of stereotypical space-opera heroes, evil alien races, individualistic pioneer societies, and terrifying space pirates commandeering spaceships. Why? Because that is the image that classic science fiction drilled into our heads more than 50 years ago. Contemporary science fiction writers continued the tradition and kept writing about these Wild Wests in space.

However, I suspect that if classic SF legends like Isaac Asimov and Robert A. Heinlein were around today, they would portray space colonization very differently. I think that space exploration will not be like the pioneer-like picture painted by these authors—it will far more federal and centralized.

The main reason is the high cost of space travel, and the slow rate that its cost decreases.Obviously, space colonization will not exist until it becomes cost-effective—but it may not become very cost-effective for many years after that. Because of this, the average “Joe six-pack” or ingénue city-dwelling single mother will not be rocketing him/herself and family to start a colony. Instead, space colonization and exploration will have to be funded by large governments. This will mean that it will also be controlled regulated by large governments, unlike the pioneer societies of the past.

Secondly, the technology required to colonize other planets is immense. Again, the average person will not have the means or the money to create or even buy the necessary equipment. This is because all of the planets discovered so far have no breathable atmosphere, which suggests that there are few Earth-like planets in the galaxy. Thus, the necessary technology must be invented and built to create livable environments in these areas.

Next, recall that space travel and colonization will probably not be productive for many years. In the future, the world will probably have more federal governments than it does today (if not one world-controlling federal government), or corporations will have enormous political power (enabling them to initiate space travel). If this does not occur, space colonization will probably not happen, because in a less centralized society no one would be able to afford it. This federalism will determine how the colonies are regulated—they will be government-controlled and centralized rather than pioneer societies.

On a related note, governments would not want their colonies to become too independent. They would insure that the colonies would be unable to declare their independence by ensuring that they, not their colonies, control technology. This, however, is not necessarily a bad thing—not all governments will treat their colonies poorly, so there will be little need for them to exercise their power.

However, all this is probably for the better. It will mean that these colonies will progress more quickly and be more productive than if they were pioneer societies.

As for pirates in space…the chances of space marauders existing are very, very low. Most of today’s pirates do what they do out of desperation—for example, the Somalian pirates who stole Ukrainian tanks as they passed by on a cargo ship. But piracy in space would require huge amounts of funding, as a large amount of sophisticated equipment is needed. Also, space piracy may not even be possible—in order to travel to places that are light-years away, spacecraft would have to travel faster than light or “jump” from place to place—making piracy impossible. Finally, who would these pirates sell their stolen goods to?

To summarize—I hate to burst Robert A. Heinlein’s bubble, but it seems like the governors of colonies in space will be rich, well-mannered, elitist epicures rather than pioneer types or “average Joes”. 

Apocalypse now (maybe)

I recently found out the next book in a science fiction series I have been reading has been published. The series is called the Emberverse series, the author is S.M. Stirling, and the first book is Dies the Fire.

The basic premise is that all technology stops working, sending the world back to the Stone Age. The book talks about how 99% of the world dies within a year, because the loss of technology causes anarchy and prevents people from getting food. Since most people, especially city dwellers and suburbanites, do not have their own source of food or potable water, they starve when the system collapses.

After this gritty, chaotic time, though, a more halcyon period begins, as only a small percentage of the population is left (though some small pockets of violence still exist). The book goes on to describe what happens to these remaining people, who are mostly people who live in rural areas and who are not as dependent on centralized food production. Specifically, it follows the pursuits a few tribe-like societies and their plight to defeat a would-be warlord and his ex-gangster minions. A few characters from Stirling’s other book series, the Nantucket series, also make cameo appearances.

This got me thinking: If the current recession worsened, could it cause a similar disaster scenario? Though recessions and depressions have happened many times before in almost every country, globalization is relatively new, and its effects on the current economic problems may be enormous. If globalization creates a kind of negative feedback, the effects of the recession will be minimal and our economy will soon bounce back. But if it acts as positive feedback, the recession will spiral out of control and plunge the world into a terrible depression.

But, will this create the kind of disaster scenario described in Stirling’s books? Remember that the US has been through many depressions before. We suffered though a about 1 depression every decade in the 1800s, and we have also had a few modern economic paroxysms, which we have recovered from as well. Even in the Great Depression, in which millions of people lost their jobs, the government did not collapse and the effects were not permanent. For our government and our infrastructure to completely collapse, we would probably have to be attacked by a foreign nation—mass unemployment, though unfortunate, is a far cry from anarchy. 

The only place where this kind of scenario could occur is in an area like the Balkans or the Middle East. If one country’s government is weakened by the recession, a neighboring country could invade it, creating chaos. The US, though, has no belligerent or militaristic neighbors, making the scenario unlikely.

But preparation for this kind of scenario should not be held in abeyance—it is something we should continue to watch out for and be aware of. It may be closer than we think. 

New hope for Brave New World

Ever since it was published, Aldous Huxley’s novel Brave New World has been considered a classic example of a dystopia. In the society Huxley describes, people are controlled through brainwashing and genetic control, and they are kept satisfied with drugs and sex. Anyone who does not follow submit to the control of the government is made a pariah and exiled to an island. Obviously Huxley wrote the book with the intent of describing the dangers of this kind of society, and to exhort the reader to prevent it from becoming a reality. To almost everyone, this image is disgusting and unbearable.

But recently I have been wondering—why do we look down on the type of society described in the novel? Though I’m not sure if I totally abjure Huxley’s ideas, I think there is definitely room to question them.

 To figure this out, I think, we have to look into the nature and purpose of society, government, and morals.

First, let’s examine BNW’s World State on a practical level, ignoring morals for the moment. The World State has no war, no crime, and a balanced economy. Everyone has more than enough to eat, and plenty of creature comforts. Everyone performs their job with brio, and everyone enjoys their occupation. Their social conditioning separates everyone into castes, but people are gregarious nonetheless. The have banished racism, sexism, and every form of prejudice. To summarize—they function far more efficiently than we could ever hope to.

Though the World State may be practical, most people feel it is lacking morally. No matter what your faith or morals are, you are probably offended by BNW’s bacchanalian orgies, its draconian eugenics, and its employment of various brainwashing methods. However, we must look beyond our initial reactions and dig deeper—what is actually wrong with these things? Remember that we are judging BNW by our own moral code—but the World State has its own moral code, which is drastically different from ours. Almost all moral codes in existence today stem from some form of religion or faith; BNW’s does not. Instead, the purpose of the World State’s moral code is to ensure stability and uniformity.

How, then, can we morally assess Brave New World? The answer, I think, has to do with happiness, which may be the only common ground between two moral systems. If we look at BNW this way, its draconian methods are more than justified because it created much more happiness for its citizens than we can even imagine. Also, remember that the people of the World State are not disgusted by their system because it is what they are used to. In fact, they would most likely find or system more disgusting than we find theirs. To summarize—the ends justify the means, since the means are only “wrong” by our standards.

On a related note, many people criticize the World State’s “artificial happiness. ” But what is this so-called fake happiness? I believe it to be nothing more than a confusion of terms and morals. Happiness can be defined medically as a state associated with a release of endorphins in the brain. The fact that in BNW this is mostly brought about through drugs and sex is not important—it still qualifies as happiness medically, proving the idea of “fake happiness” wrong.

That said, the World State is not perfect. There are numerous practical flaws in the system, the most glaring being (as I mentioned before) that the State’s structural integrity would collapse that the collapse if a crisis occurred, since people can no longer be self-sufficient. For the most part, though, it runs like perfect clockwork, with the exception of a few aberrations like John the Savage. Morally, I have almost no problems with it, as I explained. Though it may seem difficult to accept, the system Brave New World describes may be far closer to perfect than ours.