I have to apologize from the erratic blogging. Me and Rosie are still reeling from a variety of things. Rosie mainly is buried under a mountain of work and I’m still playing catchup from the internet blackout I experienced while on vacation.
Our last Brain Parade closed off with commentary from a Nobel Prize winning scientist. Today I venture outside our usual territory of academics and writers and I asked a number of people from a wide variety of backgrounds the following question:
Has Science Fiction had an impact on your worldview? And if so how?
I’ve already answered this in a previous Brain Parade when I asked this question of a number of Science Fiction authors. So rather than reiterate that answer I’m going to talk about how Science Fiction blogging has impacted my worldview. It’s only been about six months but a number of my opinions on things have changed. Ironicaly enough I’ve become increasingly skeptical of futurism and predictions of the future although I’m more interested than ever in speculation on such matters for speculations sake. I’ve also become more skeptical of my own views from everything from religion to scientific theories I subscribe to. It’s become apparent to me that most of the things that we all believe are just plain wrong.
Now onto our commentators:
Christine (naiad8):
Science fiction was part of my life from very early on. My father introduced me to the stories and ideas in his much-edited renditions of various classics remixed as bedtime stories or roadtrip discussion fodder. SF forced me to think, forced me to question, forced me to wonder. It comes out now in everything I do, every issue I encounter, from national politics to decisions about how much television my toddler should watch. Everything from what is the meaning of life to what is the secret inner life of my laptop has come across my mind whilst reading or contemplating SF.
Christine (naiad8) is a mother,aspiring writer, unrepentant girl-geek and political junkie in Mountain View, CA
David Horn:
The Dune Chronicles are my favorite series of novels, though I must admit that I was unable to understand them the first time I read them. I had just graduated high school, and my range of experience was limited. Frank Herbert was obsessed with the phenomenon of leadership. How do we choose leaders? How do they shape us? When his characters expounded on flaws in the nature of democracy, I thought he was a communist. I conveniently forgot that he criticized socialism just as fervently. I had a secret theory that the same man that wrote the first book did not write its sequels, but, again, my experience was limited, and I did not understand at the time that he was writing tragedy.
Science fiction does not give me the enlightening epiphanies that, say, Kafka or Camus does. Reading Douglas Adams did not make me reevaluate the entirety of my life in a new way. Science fiction, like its time period, is forward thinking. It changes how we evaluate the consequences of choices. The people in these fantasy worlds are caricatures to observe, not people to identify with. Reading 1984 does not make us Winston Smith, but from that point onward we are always fearful of Big Brother.
Now that I’ve lived most of my aware years with Dune’s words in my mind, I can say it’s the single most influential work I have ever read. While I did not fully understand Herbert’s meaning when I read it the first time, from that point onward I saw the world partially through his eyes. Herbert made me a skeptic of governments, religions, ideas, and people; not a critic, but a skeptic. An important distinction. I never criticize an idea or action before I evaluate what brought it into existence; I do not believe or persue something before I evaluate its flaws. Dune did not give me a tool to reevaluate myself, but a tool to reevaluate the world.
David Horn is a sensei to aNinja Penguin
Fran:
Yes, it has. I discovered Science Fiction almost lately and for a chance, a friend lent me some book telling I would love. I was skeptical, since I did believe Sci-Fi was something boring or such, always about robots and re-presenting the same things over and over. But then with those books I discovered Dan Simmons and his work, the Hyperion serie of novels*, showed me how Sci-Fi can conglobate so many subjects [religion, ecology, poetry, ethic, philosophy] and talk about what it could be in a very realistic way. I discovered the quantum mechanics and John Keats by reading those books! And to discover the quantum mechanics have to change your worldview. I think I have never really thought about the universe until I started reading Sci-Fi. and the Dan Simmons’ Hyperion novels also pointed out where we’re running to, as humankind, and what could happen if we go straight to this way. Lots to think about, actually.
Fran blogs at My Minimal Look
Fahim Farook:
I believe it was in David G. Hartwell’s “Age of Wonders” that I first read that the “golden age of science fiction is twelve”. I take this in a slightly different context than it was probably meant - the younger you are when you are introduced to science fiction, the more deeply it seems to fuse with your very being. I was introduced to science fiction very early, and it has stayed with me, guided me and has moulded the way I look at the world. It has made me aware of the fact that there are other views besides mine, that there even might be other perspectives
besides the human one. It also has made me aware of how imperfect we are and yet, at the same time, the heights we can achieve as a race if we’d just set our minds to it and manage to leave behind our prejudices and our age-old hatreds. Sure, tales, such as those written by A. E. Van Vogt or Gordon R. Dickson, of humans with super abilities who are working in secret for the betterment of mankind might seem a bit dated today. But I still love them and hold out that hope for humanity - that we can indeed rise above our baser instincts.
Fahim Farook blogs at Solipistic Meanderings
Justin Kahn:
It hasn’t changed any of my beliefs yet, but it has given me a certain confidence that fiction can be used as a research tool in asking the questions philosophy used to focus on.
Alii_Cat:
Writing, I think, strives to write either about what you already know, or what is alien, and science fiction holds one extreme of this pole, not only exploring different characters and places but even imagining different universes and physical laws. This process is vital not only for opening up new facets of ourselves as people but even has a role to play at the fringes of science, where imagination can reign and the line between science and magic is blurred.
Alii_Cat is an armchair pyschologist who maintains this Livejournal
Jack Mangan:
1. Science Fiction has raised me from early childhood with an awareness of universal interconnectivity, a sensitivity to the complex hyper-connectedness of every action and life, even one as trivial as a prehistoric butterfly’s.
SF’s storylines and themes are usually possessed of titanic
tendencies, often featuring forces that may:
A) wipe out/enslave the entire human species
B) destroy the earth/galaxy/universe
C) permanently alter the fabric of time
D) permanently alter the fabric of reality
E) permanently alter the course of humanity’s physical and social evolution
F) you get the point. Something of great importance to our entire way of life is usually in jeopardy. (Yes, I know that you can cite tons of deeply personal, small-scale SF stories. Congratulations. I’ve written a few myself. Not the point. Let’s move on.)
This is where SF informs a globally/univerally conscious “Can’t we all get along?” worldview. If an invasion fleet of giant bugs were to swarm the earth tomorrow, I can guarantee that people would focus a lot less on petty, divisive ideologies.
I strive to view situations and conflicts on a personal scale, try not to cause undue stress, strife, or hardship for those around me, to generally bear in mind that even without killer alien hordes, life is difficult enough. Amidst all of the world’s turmoil and unrest, I have encountered a small number of enlightened souls taking action or simply living to enable a sort of global community of acceptance, cooperation, co-existence, and ultimately, an evolution into something greater than ourselves. A civilization that would benefit from but not be ruled by logic. One that is wise and mature enough to handle the awesome responsibility of our singularity-bound technology (let’s not get hung up on the “S” word). I try to always remain conscious of my place in such a community. If one actually did exist. I don’t know if the Science Fiction portions of my life’s media diet deserve all of the blame for this worldview, but given worlds enough, words enough, and time, I could draw countless direct connections.
Please do not dismiss my worldview as unrealistic Mr. Rogers-esque dogma. I endeavor to entertain no delusions — another characteristic at least partially learned from SF. Our inherited, jumbled human society is most certainly not a cooperative community, worthy of cheery Michael Stipe lyrics. The “street” has consistently found its own uses great and terrible for all techs great and small, including — sadly — jet airliners. This is why the classic, seminal works of Cyberpunk appeal so strongly to me. William Gibson, Bruce Sterling, John Shirley, Neal Stephenson, and their contemporaries presented us with the most unflinching, believable, tangible, frightening, impending future yet (sorry, but I find post-apocalyptic road mutants
almost as far-fetched as Wookies). Cyberpunk stories often involved commonfolk protagonists, often “high-tech lowlifes”, yet still placed them into scenarios to impact all of human civilzation. This is the stuff that forever changed my ideas of what the future, and also of what fiction — across all genres — at its best, bleakest, and most stylish could be.
2. Science Ficton writers think a lot about the past (history is a great, almost-unlimited resource of uncopyrighted plots, characters, and story arcs). And of course, we also think a lot about the future. When the past and future are studied with factual clarity and without the taint of personal agendas, like shoulder-perched angels, these guides will usually influence a “Can’t we all just get along?” worldview.
3. Science Fiction has encouraged me to be reasonably skeptical of any and all ruling classes and establishments. [Whew. Good answer- ed]
Jack Mangan maintains the Deadpan podcast
James Allen:
It’s affected me my whole life. I grew up the son of a Trekkie (no conventions, but if it was on, we were watching it) so it’s really been there my whole life. One of my favorite traits of science fiction is its ability to present our own faults and failures back to us in a digestible form. Look at what Battlestar Galactica has done in showing us a different look at a religious war. If that show was based in reality (say between Christians and Muslims) there is no way it could be shown. It would be too real to people for its message to be perceived. But by cloaking it in such an unfamiliar setting you let people focus on the details without bring their own baggage into the discussion. It really is an amazing tool in that way. There aren’t too many other ways out there for us to take an unbiased look at ourselves, but with science fiction it is possible.
There are so many authors and books I’ve loved over the years that if I started naming them I’d run out of space. I’ll just focus on one that has stuck out to me all my life, Ender’s Game. Being a nerd (with the lack of social skills that entails) and being in the Gifted and Talented program in high school, really makes those of us that fall into that category feel very isolated and alone. I think even more than is normal for an adolescent. Although, obviously, I have nothing to compare to. Ender was that same kind of kid. But then you realize that everyone in the Battle School is too. Reading that in high school made me realize that I wasn’t so alone as I imagined. And then, of course, on further reflection, I love all the things in that book about distrust of authority and the point that small understandings can lead to such a horrible thing like genocide (or xenocide in the book). People around the world are more alike than different and we have to be constantly alert for those small understandings.
James Allen blogs at the Allen Alamanac
Christiana Ellis:
It’s hard to know how science fiction has changed my worldview, because I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t a part of my life. Science fiction didn’t change my worldview so much as it helped to form my worldview.
I think that a love of science fiction has made me more forward thinking, less attached to any given “now.” This should not suggest that I have no time for smelling roses in my busy schedule, but rather that I am better able to accept that the rosebush is but a temporary fixture in an ever-changing landscape. When the inevitability of change is not only acknowledged, but embraced, it makes the ephemeral beauty of each moment all the more precious.
Science fiction can also show us our humanity in ways that are impossible for non-genre fiction. Advances in science and technology have been gradually freeing us from many of the more animal necessities, food, shelter, etc. As these things become ever cheaper and easier to obtain, we are able to devote more time to the things that make us more than mere animals. Art, philosophy, all that good stuff.
Science fiction takes that a step further, stripping away all limitations save those of our imaginations. What if free energy existed? What if we were able to change our bodies at will? What if we spread our wings to live among the stars? Will we still have teenage crushes? Sports? Pets? Freed of the limitations imposed by the world around us, we can examine humanity unbound.
Science fiction can present us with a breathtaking view of what our futures might hold. But just as interesting, I think, is what it can show us about who we are today.
Christiana Ellis maintains a regularly updated podcast where she discusses among other things Science Fiction.
Brian Dow:
Oh hell yeah! I mentioned this in my blog, but back in December and January I needed to have an aortic root reconstruction and a heart valve replacement. In english that means I had two open heart surgeries to fix some bad plumbing before it went boom. Now, being only 46, I really didn’t think I was going to need this kind of stuff until the third Star Wars trilogy came out, but my plumbing had other ideas. I mention this because I’ve known since I was a kid that I’d need something done about these things eventually, but I sort of thought that by the time I needed a valve replacement, the doc would just mail it to me, I’d swallow it, and get back to my life. Science fiction really prepared me for this event in that I was always marveling at the new technologies that were coming out. Then reading stories about growing new skin and new organs and body parts. I have even adopted a view that the medication that I’m supposed to be on for the rest of my life will go bye-bye as soon as they find a way to regrow a new organic valve from my own cells and therefore there’s no need for the meds.
I think that Science Fiction has, and continues to, show us what we can be and where we are going. Where we’ve perhaps gone astray and how we can be more than the sum of our parts. It really is a social and ethical barometer, if you will, of the human race.
Brian Dow is an artist whose work has graced the covers of Children’s, Fantasy and Science Fiction novels.
Related posts: