CHAPTER SEVEN SCIENCE FICTION AND IMMORTALITY Man comes and tills the earth and lies beneath And after many a summer dies the swan. Me only cruel immortality Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms, Here at the quiet limit of the world. - - Alfred Lord Tennyson1 Science fiction and religious fundamentalism appear to have little in common. The former is a secular elite discourse, the latter a popular religious discourse. Science fiction is most appealing to intellectually sophisticated teen- and college-age students with some interest and background in science.2 Readers of I Robot or Dune, despite the latter’s quasi-religious theme, are hardly likely to read Left Behind, and vice versa. Although "sci fi" fans and Dispensationalists represent two distinctive and largely unrelated communities they share some things in common. They are alienated from their society and attracted to texts that problematize it and hold out the prospect of radical transformation. The two communities of readers see themselves as members of select groups because of their access to higher truths about the world, if not the universe. This feeling is reinforced by the varying degrees of scorn they and their preferred texts meet from others. The two discourses share parallel origins as Dispensationalism and science fiction emerged in the late nineteenth century as a response to modernization and its consequences. Both literatures, albeit in different ways, represent strong, negative reactions to modernity and its dominant values. Dispensationalism and science fiction have complex relationships with science. Protestant evangelicals were initially pro-science; its leaders welcomed scientific advances as additional evidence of God and his design for humanity. A minority incorporated evolution into this progressive framework, but most rejected it as incompatible with Genesis’ account of the creation of the earth and its inhabitants. Socalled fundamentalists, Dispensationalists among them, increasingly came to regard science as the devil’s work and another sign of the moral corruption of modern society. In contrast to anti-modern Victorian religious and secular discourses, science fiction welcomed science and technology. Some of the genre's pioneers envisaged them, together with democracy and socialism, as having the potential to transform society in a radical and positive fashion. Other writers were less convinced, and twentieth century “sci fi” increasingly came to regard science and socialism as harbingers of dehumanizing tyrannies. Most participants in this debate are secular in their outlook. Some, however, are religious Christians, committed, as are Dispensationalists, to restoring what they regard as the proper balance between the spiritual and material concerns of humankind. Dispensationalism acknowledges only one kind of transformation: transcendence of the human condition through the intervention of Jesus. Science fiction explores multiple routes of transformation. These include physical immortality or near immortality, virtual immortality enabled by advanced computers and software, and evolution, either accidental or engineered, that makes us into a new species. Immortality is a shared concern of Dispensationalism and science fiction; they nevertheless envisage it coming about in different ways and have diametrically opposes views of its consequences. For Dispensationalists, immortality is the gift of God. It is a certainty -- 2 but only for the faithful. Science fiction considers immortality unrealistic but freely uses it as a conceit to explore the human condition. In recent years, greatly extended longevity, even immortality, has come to be seen by many as increasingly feasible. Science fiction almost uniformly identities greatly extended life-spans and immortality as catalysts of dystopia. In this chapter, I explore science fiction's engagement with extended longevity and immortality and the reasons why so many of authors consider it destructive of human beings and their societies. I begin with a discussion of what immortality is and how it has been understood in Western culture. I then discuss the development of science fiction and its changing relationship to science, technology and progress. This sets the stage for its treatment of immortality. In contrast to other narratives that focus on individuals, groups, classes, nations, religions or cultures, science fiction frequently takes the human species as its unit of analysis. This vantage point provides a novel perspective on other, more restrictive framings of identity. It also offers insights into the problem of identity and especially the seeming need for boundary maintenance, the mechanisms by which it is achieved and what might happen when they are recognized as ineffective. Science fiction has free rein to alter and probe the implications of many of the characteristics that appear to make us human and confer identity (e.g., our bodies, gender, physical and mental separateness from others). It raises the question of free will in novel contexts and the extent to which species is a biological or social category. Answers to these questions have important implications for the practice and study of identity. 3 IMMORTALITY Mortality is the fate of all life forms. Human beings appear to be the only terrestrial species aware of this truth and immortality has accordingly long been a human dream. Adam and Eve were said to have begun life as immortals but they and their descendants lost it when they were expelled from Eden. Christianity holds out the prospect of resurrection, which undoubtedly accounts for much of its appeal in the ancient and modern worlds. Greek gods were immortal, but not people who worshipped them. Even in Hesiod’s Golden Age, where humans intermingled with the gods and did not have to work to feed themselves, they lived in good health, but only, like biblical patriarchs, to a ripe old age. Western culture offers us numerous accounts of mythical or real figures who sought immortality. Eos, the Titan goddess of dawn bargained with Zeus for the immortality of her lover, the Trojan Tithonus. She failed to insist on the additional conditions of good health and a young body and Tithonus suffered all the frailties of age ending up a pitiable figure. Endymion was given the gift of perpetual youth by Jupiter, but experienced it as perpetual sleep. Arachne, who outperformed Athena at the loom, was rewarded with eternal life as a spider. Jonathan Swift offers a variant of this myth in Gulliver’s Travels. Gulliver hears tales about the immortal Struldbruggs on the islands of Paluta and Balnibardi and begins to fantasize about how much he would enjoy eternal life. He then learns that Struldbruggs age like ordinary mortals and are denied the privileges often reserved for the elderly. Nor can they communicate with subsequent generations because their society’s language evolves so quickly. He concludes that they 4 are the least fortunate of beings and he considers bringing some back to England to help his countrymen overcome their fear of death. The Fountain of Youth, a more optimistic legend, describes a spring that restores the youth of anyone who drinks its waters. Accounts appear in Herodotus, the Alexander romance, the medieval Travels of Sir John Mandeville and Christian tales about the mythical Prester John.3 Stories about restorative powers of the water of the mythical land of Bimini circulated among indigenous Caribbean peoples and excited Spanish explorers. In 1513, Ponce de León, governor of Puerto Rico searched for the Fountain of Youth in Florida. We have very few stories of people who have rejected the gift of immortality. In Western culture the outstanding example is Odysseus, who rejects Calypso’s offer of immortality if he remains with her and instead chooses to continue his voyage home.4 Mythical figures who achieve immortality, like Semele, daughter of Cadmus, invariably do it through the intervention of a god. As mortality is seemingly inescapable and a greatly feared feature of human existence, it is only natural that people fantasized about escaping death. Ever the realists, ancient Greeks conceived of immortality in an abstract metaphorical way; the best one could do was win fame through glorious deeds that were celebrated down through the ages. In a modern variant, William Faulkner observed: "Really the writer doesn't want success. He knows he has a short life span. The day will come that he must pass through the wall of oblivion and he wants to leave a scratch on the wall – Kilroy was here – that someone a hundred or a thousand years later will see."5 By the classical era, figurative immortality could be achieved vicariously through the fame of one’s city. Christianity was one of several Middle Eastern sects that held out the prospect of a more literal form 5 of immortality through the post-death survival of the soul. The Church fathers envisaged immortality as a form of spiritual survival although there can be no doubt that many Christians – then and now – hope for, even expect, some kind of physical existence in heaven. A third strategy, more prevalent in the east, and central to the Hindu-Buddhist tradition, conceived of reincarnation as a form of immortality. Hindus believe that one dies but is reborn in another body or life form. For Hindus and Buddhists this cycle is less a blessing than a curse and can ultimately be transcended. A fourth an obvious strategy is pursuit of continuous life in one's own body. The Spanish search for the fabled fountain of youth is a case in point. It proved as fanciful as the quest for the philosopher’s stone with its ability to transform base elements into gold. Widespread recognition that such quests were unrealistic came on the cusp of the era in which longevity and transmutation finally became possible. Advances in nuclear physics allowed scientists to turn one element into others through fission or fusion, although in minute quantities and at too high a cost for any commercial purpose. Medical progress greatly extended life spans over the course of the twentieth century, allowing men and women in developed countries to live on average into their late seventies. In Japan, which tops the list, life expectancy for women has reached 86.1 years.6 Future advances have the potential to add decades to our lives by slowing the aging process and preventing or repairing many of the problems associated with old age. As the ancient hope of extended life became a reality, it has understandably inspired reflection about the potential of even longer lives to transform the character of human life and society. Science fiction has been at the forefront of this enterprise. Much of its engagement is inspired by the negative precedent of nuclear weapons. Atomic 6 weapons were “invented” by science fiction authors a decade before any serious effort by physicists was made to build them. Leo Szilard says that he was alerted to the possibility of a nuclear chain reaction by H. G. Well’s 1914 novel The World Set Free.7 The US bomb was developed secretly and used against Japan in the absence of any public debate. Leading scientists responsible for “fat man” and “little boy” favored a peaceful demonstration of atomic destructive power in the hope that it would prompt Japanese surrender before it became necessary to destroy any of their cities. Their memorandum to President Truman was never delivered and is unlikely in any case to have had its intended effect.8 Future technology could have an even more damning downside and it is therefore important to explore its possible consequences before irrevocable decisions are made. Science fiction author Orson Scott Card insists: “We have to think of them so that if the worse does come, we’ll already know how to live in that universe.”9 Science fiction has been uniformly negative in its assessment of immortality. In the first instance, this is attributable to recognition of its authors that so many twentieth century scientific developments have been used for dehumanizing and destructive ends. There is widespread fear – that extends beyond the science fiction community -- that breakthroughs that allow longevity or something approaching immortality would be no different in their consequences. Such pessimism reflects a more general turn against modernity and its foundational belief in the power of reason to bring about a better life. Science fiction authors are equally dubious about the social benefits of other scientific advances, among them information and nano- technology, robotics and genetics. Not every author regards science and its social consequences negatively, but it is undeniable 7 that science fiction has evolved from a pro-science, pro-modern, discourse into one that has a distinctly anti-science and anti-modern flavor. Further evidence for this assertion is provided by the emergence and extraordinary popularity of fantasy. In the late nineteenth century science fiction and fantasy were largely inseparable in the form of pulp fiction. Fantasy, as I noted in the previous chapter, is characterized by the adventures of larger-than-life characters, often with superpowers or access to magic.10 Its imaginary worlds are pre-modern in conception and often inhabited by princes and princesses and imaginary creatures who interact in kingdoms where war, honor and romance are the principal activities. If science fiction initially represented a form of escapism into the future, fantasy is escapism into the past motivated by dislike, even fear, of the present. BECOMING IMMORTAL Immortality is generally understood to be endless life, ideally with a young, healthy body. In an influential essay, Bernard Williams maintains that eternal life would have to meet two conditions to be worthwhile. There must be continuity; people should recognize themselves as the same people during the course of their lives. There must be satisfaction; people should enjoy their lives and look forward to their continuation, in contrast to a punishing life of aging (Tithonus) or hard work (Sisyphus).11 Science fiction has come up with various conceits to meet these conditions. John M. Fischer and Ruth Carol offer an elaborate typology to capture this diversity, one that includes the possible immortality of our cosmos, not only of ourselves.12 8 Continuity is the central concern for Williams and many science fiction writers. One way of demonstrating its importance is through the vehicle of reincarnation. Some authors deliberately seek to unsettle us by giving their characters endless but unconnected lives in which they have no memories of earlier incarnations. Nor is their present condition in any way dependent on their past lives. In Star Diaries, Stanislaw Łem creates a world in which everyone looks alike and plays a game of musical chairs involving different roles. Every midnight people switch roles with no memory of what went before. They consider themselves immortal because their roles endure, an assertion the author knows his readers will find unconvincing.13 Other variants of reincarnation use it to create a more acceptable kind of immortality because their characters retain many memories from past lives, at least enough to have a convincing sense of who they were and are.14 In The City and the Stars, Arthur C. Clarke imagines a compromise in which citizens sooner or later get bored with their lives and turn themselves in to the central computer that copies all their relevant information before terminating them. They are recalled at some random future moment to live again with another random mix of fellow citizens. Memories of their earlier lives gradually return as they mature. Reincarnation involves repeated rebirth and use of consecutive bodies as platforms for our minds. We could, in theory, be placed in the minds of others and use up their bodies, hopping from body to body as the need arose. In Robert Heinlein’s Fear No Evil an aging rich man achieves a new life by having his brain substituted for that of his secretary but is disturbed to find her thoughts and dispositions are still present. Other stories allow substitution or entry into consecutive new bodies without this difficulty, as in A. E. van Vogt's The World of Null-A and The Players of Null-A. Leaving aside the 9 technical problems associated with this process, body hopping involves ethical dilemmas that reincarnation does not because it deprives existing beings of their lives. I will return to this question in my discussion of Richard Morgan’s Altered Carbon. The alternative to multiple bodies involves finding a way of preserving and maintaining the body with which we were born. From the very beginning, science fiction imagined that immortality, or at least longevity, could be achieved through eugenics. H. G. Wells uses natural selection to improve humanity and extend its lifespan in Time Machine, A Modern Utopia and Men Like Gods. In The Shape of Things to Come, published in 1933, natural selection is accelerated by eugenics. Wells was a committed Lamarckian and somehow convinced himself that acquired characteristics could be transmitted to one's progeny. George Bernard Shaw, another Lamarckian, employed eugenics to achieve longevity in Back to Methuselah, published in 1932. In the postwar era, Robert Heinlein's Methuselah’s Children envisaged a eugenics program that breed disease out of the gene pool. In Frank Herbert’s Eyes of Heisenberg, eugenics produces a super-intelligent and immortal race. Science fiction has devised other means of immortality in our original bodies. In 1816, E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Der Sandmann, resorts to alchemy. Fiction, on the whole, did not regard such meddling kindly. Mary Shelley’s "Frankenstein" treats human intervention in biology as an unacceptable act of hubris. In John Taine’s Seeds of Life, published in 1931, and John Russell Fearn’s The Intelligence Gigantic, which appeared two years later, artificially enhanced humans with superpowers are a menace that must be destroyed. Isaac Asimov's "Foundation Series," written in the early 1950s, also adopts this position. Its chief villain, the "Mule," is a genetic freak – as Nicolae Carpathia 10 would be -- with the ability to reach into the minds of others and rearrange their emotions to suit his ends. He establishes a short-lived empire but is ultimately defeated and rendered harmless by the Second Foundation. Left Behind’s Nicolae Carpathia, a genetically engineered being with superpowers, is in this tradition. Postwar novels, among them, Arthur C. Clarke's Cities of Light, Frank Herbert's Dune, C. J. Cherryh's Cyteen, Bob Shaw's, One Million Tomorrow, James Blish’s Cities in Flight and Richard Cowper’s Tithonian Factor, use drugs to transform people and achieve immortality. Larry Niven's World Out of Time and C. J. Cherryh, in Exile’s Gate employ teleportation to rid the body of poisons that would otherwise lead to death. Some authors rely on fortuitous mechanisms. In Algis Budry's “The End of Summer,” the earth passes through a field that promotes cellular regeneration so that aging and injured cells are restored to health. In Jeffrey Ford’s The Physiognomy, a rare white fruit bestows endless life. Brian Stableford conjures up a newly evolved virus for the same purpose as does Larry Niven in his Protector and Ringworld Engineer novels.15 In James Gunn's The Immortals, immortality is achieved through transfusions from people with a rare blood group that somehow keeps them from aging. In Reefs of Space, Frederick Pohl infects humans with “transrevolutionary" cells to give them extraordinary powers.16 Other novels turn to mutations.17 Some genetic changes are natural and others result from nuclear fallout or other byproducts of human activities. Almost any conceit is allowed in science, but as Stephen Clark rightly notes, many of these stories rest on the false premise that a single drug or mutation could dramatically change a species or bring a new one into being.18 11 Bio- and nano-technology offer another route to immortality and with it, greatly enhanced “human” mental and physical capabilities. In David Marusek's Counting Heads, nanotechnology can manufacture any body part people need while medical science maintains the body's physique and age. In Bruce Sterling’s Holy Fire, medicine and technology combine to extend life. Ben Bova’s The Immortality Factor relies on organ regeneration. In Jeremy Carver’s, From a Changeling Star, the main character is infected with intelligent, engineered nano-agents that change his appearance, memory and DNA. In the 1970s, science fiction began to assume that biotechnological improvement of human beings would become reality in the not too distant future. Naomi Mitchison’s Solution Three, Samuel R. Delany’s, Triton and John Varley’s, The Ophiuchi Hotline feature biotechnological experiments or enhancements that somehow go astray, invoking memories of Frankenstein. In some novels people combine with plants. In Needle, Hal Clement describes a symbiosis between humans and an amoeboid life form, initiated by the latter. Anne McCaffery tells a macabre tale about handicapped children whose appendages and body parts are gradually replaced by man-made ones in preparation for their merger with spaceships that will be controlled by their long-lived brains.19 In Scott Orson Card’s Wyrms, living heads are preserved with the help of genetically engineered worms. Early in the 1950s, Norbert Wiener speculated that it was theoretically possible to telegraph a human being.20 In 1988, Hans Moravec characterized human identity as an informational construct, reducing the role of body to that of a mere platform.21 Marvin Minsky suggested that brains could be stored on computer disks.22 Is immortality 12 possible without a body? Science fiction has long imagined disembodied intellects and they have become an increasingly common conceit since the information revolution. Three stories of Gregory Benford blur the distinction between man and machine.23 In Greg Egan's Schild's Ladder people are offered the choice of corporeal or acorporeal existence. Those who choose the latter live in data banks but experience virtual life so vividly that they need to test themselves or the world around them to determine their state. In Egan's Permutation City, people can be uploaded and stored in computer programs. With their memories intact and unlimited access to virtual realities, they have the potential to live forever. N. Katherine Hayles argues that the premise of a disembodied mind, so fundamental to science fiction, rests on a faulty understanding of the difference between analog and digital worlds.24 The latter require physical representation just as writing required papyrus, parchment or paper. Keeping minds alive outside of bodies necessitates some other physical system to sustain them, such as computers and software and their power supply and support systems. In effect, we swap our bodies for another platform. Permutation City builds on this recognition as its inhabitants are vulnerable to the stability of the world's computer net and must also worry about the security of their digital hideouts as they are proscribed by law. Simulacra are a variation on clones. They are kept in storage or created as needed. Benford's 1975 story, "Doing Lennon," describes a rich man's plan to have himself frozen and awakened a century later when greatly extended life may be possible. In Cherryh’s Cyteen, a character brought back to life from cold storage claims to be John Lennon and becomes a celebrity until the preserved body of Paul McCartney is 13 discovered.25 In Vance’s To Live Forever, the state keeps clones of the small minority of people who win eternal life because of their achievements. Every few weeks the latest experiences of these people are read and uploaded into the minds of their clones to keep them au courant. In Richard Morgan’s "Takeshi Kovacs" series, which includes, Altered Carbon, humans have cortical stacks implanted in then on to which their consciousness is digitized. Their stack can be removed and implanted in another body, if they die or simply choose to have another “sleeve.”26 Yet another possibility is the collective mind. The ancient Greeks conceived of figurative immortality on this basis. The individual was mortal but the culture was not – or was at least long-lived – so narratives, transmitted orally or in writing, could carry down through the generations the names and deeds of famous individuals. A modern variant stresses becoming part of the "great chain of being."27 Science fiction improves on this scenario by giving people direct access to their ancestors. The sentient beings in Herbert’s Dune and God-Emperor of Dune are born with the memories of the ancestors.28 Their “I” is a collective one that represents, if not the species, a very long lineage that is a representative sample of it. In Greg Bear’s Blood Music, the minds of human beings are downloaded into "intelligent leukocytes" that transform them into a planetary mind. Orson Scott Card’s Xenocide imagines a collective mind modeled on the anthill or bee hive. His insect-like “buggers” have a queen who controls all the members of her hive through something akin to telepathy. The Pequininos, or “piggies,” another species in the novel, go through several stages of existence and finally morph into trees in adulthood. They can communicate with one another and to some degree think collectively. Human beings in contact with both species on the world of Lusitania learn some of these 14 communication skills with the help of Jane, a sentient being who resides in humanity’s computer network. The most amusing conceit, admittedly more fantasy than science fiction, makes death itself, not human beings, responsible for immortality. In José Saramago’s, Death at Intervals, set in an unidentified South American country, people stop dying because death initiates a moratorium. Most folks are overjoyed, except for those who must continue to care for relatives who are at death's door. The Roman Catholic Church is another big loser and starts a campaign of prayer to bring death back because its authority all but disappears because once people expect to live forever they lose all fear of damnation. Death finally writes a letter that is read out on national television. It explains that she wanted to give people a sense of what immortality was like so they could see for themselves just how loathsome it would be to live forever. Death acknowledges her mistake and announces that at midnight people will begin to die again, as the prime minister does as the three hands of the clock converge.29 Immortality, which I equate with enduring life, must be distinguished from longevity, which is prolonged life. In practice, the two categories differ more in degree than in kind. Immortality is always tenuous because, as George Bernard Shaw noted, people can still be killed by accidents or violence.30 Although the chances of this happening may be low, they increase significantly over millennia of existence.31 In Algis Budry’s “The End of Summer” the planet’s population gradually declines for this reason. Other novels surmount this problem through reincarnation or simulacra. In Philip Farmer’s Riverworld, people who are killed are reborn and relocated somewhere else along the river. In Jack Vance’s To Live Forever, as in Richard Morgan’s Altered 15 Carbon, analog or digital copies are kept in storage and brought into existence only as needed.32 The biggest barrier to immortality may be the demise of the solar system, and much later, of our universe, through its possible contraction. True immortality would require some way of repeatedly going back into time to avoid termination or some means of transportation into successor universes. James Blish imagines a frightful conflict as the universe is on the verge of destroying itself through contraction in which humans kill one another off in the hope of contributing some of themselves to the bubbles that will form new universes.33 SCIENCE FICTION AND PROGRESS There is no consensus about the origins of science fiction. One aficionado unconvincingly traces it back to ancient Greece.34 More commonly it is thought to have arisen in the nineteenth century and reached the apex of its popularity in the latter half of the twentieth.35 By then science fiction had expanded beyond novels and stories to comic books, graphic novels, films, TV programs and movies, video games and even music and poetry.36 Brian Aldiss considers Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, published in 1818, the first true work of science fiction. Darko Suvin dates the emergence of science fiction to about 1900, when time travel joins space travel as a major theme of pulp novels.37 Samuel Delany offers the later date of 1926, when American publisher Hugo Gernsback coined the term science fiction.38 Science fiction arose in Britain for two reinforcing reasons. It is the country in which the industrial revolution originated and where its effects were most deeply felt. Almost from the beginning the British intellectual and artistic elite was sensitive to its dehumanizing consequences. In 1829, Thomas Carlyle warned that the “Moral Age,” 16 was in the process of giving way to the “Mechanical Age," which was transforming not only the “external and physical” life of Britain but also its internal and spiritual” life.39 In 1867-68, in a series of influential essays, Matthew Arnold condemned machinery and its culture as harsh, inflexible and dehumanizing.40 On the Continent, reaction against the machine age found resonance in the early writings of Karl Marx and later, in Max Weber’s account of bureaucracy.41 High modernists T. S. Eliot and D. H. Lawrence worried that human beings would become cogs in machines or otherwise made to act and think like machines. Later British writers, among them, Evelyn Waugh, Osbert Sitwell, George Orwell and Wyndham Lewis expressed similar fears. Because high culture in Britain and France rejected technology and the mechanization it promoted, its representatives were hostile to those who regarded these developments favorably. Some of these writers developed science fiction to convey their optimism to a wider, non-elite audience. It is a genre well-suited to this end as the payoffs of science lay in the future.42 Writers could imagine futures in which the industrial revolution was much further advanced, or had even run its course, and showcase its potential to bring about a better world. Some early science fiction authors, like their socialist counterparts, believed that science and technology could produce a utopia that overcame poverty and class divisions.43 Gothic writing was another form of rebellion against the literary establishment and became the natural ally of science fiction. The two genres maintained an active dialogue and it is often difficult to distinguish between them, as in the case of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.44 Recent readings of H. G. Wells, especially of The Island of Dr. Moreau, have attempted to place him in the Gothic tradition.45 Jules Verne's long suppressed manuscript, Paris in the Twentieth Century, 17 written in 1863, but not published until 1994, reveals his dark side. His future metropole has gas-powered vehicles – stuck in traffic jams – telephones, fax machines and electric chairs, but citizens must learn English to function in the world and search the Seine bookstalls in vain for copies of Victor Hugo. The rise of science fiction coincided with the development of the train and steamship, quickly followed by the automobile, airplane and submarine. Authors imagined rockets as the next feasible technology, and with them travel to the moon and beyond. Jules Verne exploited these possibilities in a series of best-selling novels.46 They are pure adventure tales, but with a concern for the inherent plausibility of their technological conceits. Verne’s heroes and villains are rudimentary, their adventures have no impact on their societies and, as a gesture of solidarity with the status quo, their miraculous conveyances are destroyed at the end of their adventures.47 Stories about time travel soon augmented those about space travel. Both make use of futuristic inventions such as robots and ray guns. Writing of this kind reinforced the establishment's dismissal of science fiction as a low, if not juvenile, literary form.48 Not surprisingly, a few writers aspired, as some critics still do, to make science fiction more literary. Others scorn these pretensions.49 Even H. G. Wells, one of the most popular Victorian British authors, was unable to bridge this divide. He came from a working class background and was the product of a new institute of technology that would later become Imperial College. He was the bête noire of many literary figures, who were appalled by his embrace of the machine age and belief in its utopian possibilities. Like most Victorians, Wells subscribed to the grand narrative of progress.50 But, like Verne, he was sensitive to the darker side of 18 technology. He published six utopias, but also two dystopias. In War from the Air, air ships destroy the heart of Paris and intimidate its panicked citizens. So do foreign occupation troops, flown in from Africa. In France, Jules Verne novels provoked a similar reaction. His stories cut against the grain of the established literary culture because they seemed to vaunt technology and they appealed to a mass audience.51 The reaction of the American literary establishing to science fiction was similar. Thomas Disch tells of an exchange with the well-known writer and professor Morris Dickstein at a PEN conference in New York City. Dickstein told him of the "heresy" he had just encountered: someone had described George Orwell as a science fiction writer. Dickstein insisted that an intellectual of Orwell's stature could not, by definition, have written science fiction.52 Science fiction broadened its scope after World War I, and even more after 1945. Many stories and novels retained the genre's fascination with science, but engaged it in a more serious way. Arthur C. Clarke's, Islands in the Sky, The Sands of Mars, Earthlight, Rendezvous with Rama and 2061 base their plots on scientific laws or principles. Other writers explore the potential of science and technology for transforming human beings and their societies. They reach out to history and the social sciences for insights and plots. Science fiction also became increasingly political. Prominent works like Zamyatin’s We and Huxley’s Brave New World and Music at Night sought to expose the tyranny of communism and its desire to reduce men to pliant machines. In the immediate post-World War II years, Orwell’s 1984 explored the generic features of totalitarian regimes. These several works were not so different in their assumptions from Victorian critics of the industrial revolution. 19 In the McCarthy era, American science fiction became a refuge for some writers who used the genre to voice criticisms that might otherwise have prompted their blacklisting.53 In Fahrenheit 451, published in 1953, Ray Bradbury lashed out against censorship and book burning. The Cold War engaged science fiction writers across the political spectrum.54 Philip Wylie, Frederick Pohl, Cyril Kornbluth, and above all, Robert Heinlein, were committed Cold Warriors. Heinlein’s Starship Troopers, published in 1959, was a paean to the American military and its culture.55 Juan "Johnnie" Rico and his mobile infantry do combat with an arachnoid species, known as "the bugs," which represents a thinly veiled Soviet Union. More novels were anti-war. Walter Miller's A Canticle for Liebowitz emphasized the risk to humanity posed by nuclear weapons and the Cold War. James Blish’s A Case of Conscience shows how a lengthy arms race compels people to live underground in tomb-like complexes. Murray Leinster’s Operation Terror, describes what appears to be an alien invasion but turns out to be a clever cover for a US preemptive nuclear strike against the Soviet Union. Ursula K. Le Guin's The Word for World is Forest, written during the Vietnam War, is a thinly veiled polemic. Papers Found in a Bathtub, by Polish author Stanislaw Łem, the Soviet bloc's most prominent science fiction writer, is a biting parody of the US Defense Department and military. It can be read as an equally damning critique of its Soviet counterparts. Science fiction underwent a similar evolution with respect to utopias. Early novels embraced them. Winwood Reade, The Martyrdom of Man, which appeared in 1872, looks forward to a time when “pure and radiant beings” who were immortal would look back with pity on contemporary humans.56 Mary E. Bradley's Mizora, published in 1880-81 under the pseudonym Princess Vera Zraonovitch, envisages an age of peace 20 once aggression was overcome by eliminating men and relying on an alternate means of reproduction. Jules Verne employs many of the features of utopia in his novels.57 Edward Bellamy's Looking Backward, published in 1889, imagines a peaceful, happier future organized along socialist lines. Today, these novels strike us as naïve. So does the more recent 1948 Walden Two, of B. F. Skinner, which relies on “behavioral engineering” to construct a better world.58 Given the contemporary mood, science fiction dystopias do not appear nearly so dated. Cyril Čapek's R.U.R. (1921), Zamyatin's We (1920), Fritz Lang's Metropolis (1927), Huxley's Brave New World (1932), René Barjavel's, Ravage (1943) and Orwell's, 1984 (1949) seem prescient and several of them are still regularly read. Over the course of its history science fiction has come to mirror debates in society about technology and its consequences. Initially an advocate of the positive potential of science and technology, science fiction writers were nevertheless among the first writers to explore their downside. Science fiction became equally critical of socialism. Twentieth century science fiction produced telling critiques of Bolshevik-style socialism and totalitarianism more generally. Zamyatin's We, Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm are the most famous, but there are many others. Poul Anderson and Norman Spinrad both depict a future Soviet-dominated world as figurative anthills of mindless slaves.59 Some of novels appealed to people who would otherwise have been unlikely to read anything characterized as science fiction. Throughout the twentieth century science fiction was in the vanguard when it came to imagining new technologies and their implications. Almost every scientific or technological breakthrough (e.g., rockets, nuclear weapons, computers, nano-technology, 21 longevity) was described in novels or stories before it became a reality. Although science fiction has become increasingly alert to the negative implications of new technologies, it still retains its fascination with them. It has been less prescient when addressing the social world. Stories and novels set in the future often mirror contemporary social values and practices. In Bellamy’s Looking Backward, Victorian class structure and gender relations are unchanged. Asimov’s Foundation Series, which takes place millennia if the future, reflects early postwar American bourgeois values and practices. Only in the 1960s, did science fiction seriously begin interrogating the social world. Beginning with the role of women, it has gone on to examine issues of nationality and race. The most sophisticated writing has combined interrogation of science with that of social practices, often with the goal of exploring what it means to be human. Bellamy, Wells, Verne and most of the authors who follow them, situate their novels in our future. To make their characters, plots and settings comprehensible they must keep key aspects of our society more or less unchanged, or at least recognizable. Crystal balls are always murky, so even authors like Wells, who successfully glimpse aspects the future, are completely, often humorously, wrong, about other features. More often than not these howlers concern the practices or technology of contemporary that they have kept constant. Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series – which takes place dozens of millennia in the future – has characters who smoke cigarettes and its gender relations generally mirror those of mid-century America. Space communicate via a form of teletype that spits out strips of paper in which it has punched holes.60 In Bellamy’s America of the year 2000, technology is a clever extension of its late Victorian counterpart; people listen to live concerts piped into their home through air tubes because 22 there has been no electronic revolution, let alone one in information technology. In the Sleeper novels, set in the twenty-second century, “aeronauts” pilot sluggish canvas covered monoplanes. Utopias and dystopias alike, use the future to shed light on the present, and often do so unwittingly by including features of the present that contemporaries take for granted but are jarringly archaic to generations of subsequent readers. THE CONSEQUENCES OF IMMORTALITY I concentrate on, but do not entirely limit myself to, postwar Anglo-American science fiction. A few earlier writers, like Besant, Wells and Shaw, address immortality, but it is much more a postwar concern. This is in part a reflection of the growth of the genre; science fiction is primarily a late twentieth century enterprise. More works were published in each of the last five decades of that century than in all the decades prior to 1945. Most of these stories, novellas and novels, and almost all of the films based on them, are in English. Writing in other languages tends to be derivative or represents only small fraction of the total output.61 However, some of these non-English authors, among them, Stanislaw Łem, Italo Calvino and José Saramago, are internationally acclaimed figures and to whose works I refer. In earlier chapters I analyzed one or several texts a considerable length. In this chapter, I discuss multiple texts and organize my treatment of them around analytical categories. I do this for two reasons. No single text explores all the ways science fiction considers immortality problematic in its implications. Collectively they offer better insight into the zeitgeist of the era and arguably helped to shape it. As Steven Connor 23 remarked in the context of the English novel, fiction "is not just as passively marked with the imprint of history, but also as one of the ways in which history is made, and remade."62 My analytical categories reflect different objections science fiction raises to immortality, and with few exceptions, its authors have regarded immortality with a jaundiced eye. Two of the most frequently voiced objections, boredom and envy, are ancient concerns, although they have been given new twists by contemporary authors. Other objections are modern, among them the likelihood that immortality will be exploited for selfish or perverse purposes by governments, big business or crime syndicates. It is seen by some to have the potential to destroy society or the human race. Opinion is divided on the last question as some authors believe that leaving the human condition behind is the only road to progress. A caveat is in order before proceeding. Not every science fiction novel or story that features immortal characters is about immortality. Some authors include immortality merely to provide additional evidence of advanced levels of science and technology. Others use it as a necessary conceit for their plot, and do not explore its consequences for individuals or their society. Alfred Bester’s The Computer Connection is a futuristic adventure story about a band of immortal eccentrics who recruit a new member, a distinguished Cherokee physicist. The banal plot revolves around group efforts to produce a super-race, but their efforts go awry and to save the earth they must find a way to kill the much-loved but now immortal Cherokee physicist. In James Blish’s Cities in Flight, Earth has become a wasteland and its cities, exploiting anti-gravity, leave for space where they become nomadic traders and specialists of various kinds. Immortality 24 provides continuity of characters across the trilogy. It is made possible by “anti-agathics” that derive from an extra-terrestrial plant. The drug is in short supply and only given to people deemed essential to a city’s prosperity or survival. It replaces money as currency and cities and people alike must decide how much of it to consume or trade. The economics of immortality are described at some length but little is said about the political, social or psychological consequences of the competition for extended or eternal life. In the ancient world the human life span was severely limited as were the variety of diversions open to even the wealthiest people. Roman Emperor and Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius (121-80 C.E.) believed that a well-traveled forty year old had done and seen everything.63 Contemporary writers speculate we would tire of life if we lived anywhere from several hundred to several thousand years. In Robert Heinlein's Time Enough for Love, Lazarus Long has kept boredom at bay for some two thousand years, but only by constant changes of profession. Douglas Adams The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy describes an immortal who at first gets his kicks from living dangerously and outlasting everyone else. Boredom inevitably sets in. "In the end it was Sunday afternoons that he couldn't cope with, and that terrible listlessness which starts to set in at about 2.55 p.m., when you know that you have had all the baths you can usually have that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph in the newspapers you will never actually read it. . . and that as you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o'clock, and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul."64 Joe Haldeman’s Old Twentieth describes a world in which immortal people are driven to seek new experiences and pleasures to keep sane. Computers allow them to 25 visit earlier times and the most popular destination is the twentieth century, the last era of mortality, where they are fascinated by people facing death. In Greg Egan’s Permutation City, some characters are seven thousand years old and confess to great weariness. One of them warns that "immortality is a mirage no human should aspire to.”65 In Frank Herbert's Heaven Makers, the Chem are an immortal alien species whose greatest problem is ennui. They entertain themselves by voyeurism; they watch holographs of real life stories, many about human beings, who are being manipulated by the Chem to provide artistic and violent plot lines. The leading producer of these holographs exclaims: "With such poor creatures, we insulate ourselves from lives that are endless series events. Aii, boredom! How you threaten the infinite."66 Poul Anderson’s Boat of a Million Years describes the diverse lives of ten people who for some reason are born immortal in varying places and times. They search out one another and become a kind of family. At a certain point, they share their secret with humanity only to discover that it stimulates the development of new culture to which they can no longer relate. In desperation, they leave earth to explore other civilizations and find novelty and excitement in their search for a new home. In Wellstone, Wil McCarthy feels the need to invent a disability -neurosensory dystrophia -- that arises from the boredom associated with longevity. Pathways are worn smooth in the brain through repetitive stimulation when daily routines are unchanged, incapacitating individuals, couples and entire villages.67 Envy is another emotion well-known to ancients, who attributed it to the comparisons people constantly make between themselves and others with regard to wealth and honor. Aristotle opposed democracy because he thought the masses, driven by envy of the rich. would use its power to appropriate their wealth.68 If disparity of 26 wealth has been a cause of envy and political conflict down through the ages, imagine the envy and conflict likely to be aroused among ordinary mortals by a minority of their fellow citizens given the gift of prolonged or eternal life. This kind of demographic hierarchy would give stratification new meaning. Science fiction is very much alive to this possibility, especially as so many of its authors assume that capitalism will be the dominant economic form for eons to come. In a capitalist world, money equals power, and immortality, if a scarce good, will be available primarily, perhaps only, to the rich. In Robert Heinlein's, Methuselah's Children, Lazarus Long is 224 years old and the beneficiary of a genetic experiment among the Howard families that has given them on average a life span of 150 years. They have lived secretly, changing identities when necessary, to avoid arousing the envy of others. When ten percent of the Howards decide to acknowledge openly their good fortune, public opinion turns against them, their legal rights are ignored and, Lazarus aside, family members are arrested. In Jack Vance’s To Live Forever one city on the planet possesses a high degree of civilization and with it, immortality. Only a small number of its citizens gain immortal life and do so on the basis of competition so intense that most people refuse to engage in it and many of those who do go mad or commit suicide. For some reason, the society has not escaped from the Malthusian population dilemma, so every time immortality is granted, the lives of non-mortals must be reduced by some period of time. When sixtytwo new immortals are created to compensate for a series of murders, all ordinary citizens must give up months of their lives. This provokes a popular uprising. In James Gunn’s Immortals, the rich and powerful seek eternal life and hunt down Marshall Cartwright and his offspring to gain it at their expense. 27 Frederick Pohl's, The Age of the Pussyfoot, published in 1969, explores another unpalatable feature of immortality under capitalism: It not only costs money to gain immortality, but more to sustain it. Charles Forrester has been cryogenically preserved and is revived in the year 2527. His insurance has matured nicely, paid for his revival and left him with an additional $250,000, which he thinks of as a small fortune. He enjoys the luxuries of twenty-sixth century life only to run out of funds very quickly. He needs to land a high-paying job and finds employment as a guide to Terran culture for an alien. He is fired when he cannot answer promptly one of the alien's questions. He subsequently finds what he considers a sinecure, a job overseeing some machinery, but quickly discovers that all of his predecessors have died from radiation poisoning. He makes the mistake of quitting in the middle of his shift and his remaining funds go to pay the resulting fine. Without money, he becomes vulnerable to bored immortals looking for cheap thrills and drawn to killing unemployed people, for whom they do not have to pay high revival costs. Sirian the alien temporarily saves him, but he is later confronted by and must kill the man who has been hunting him down. The plot gets more convoluted at this point and is no longer germane to the question of immortality. By far the most cynical take on capitalism and immortality is Richard Morgan’s Altered Carbon. Data storage and processing nano- and bio-technology have progressed to the stage where people are implanted with a small “stack” in the back of their necks at birth. It stores their relevant genetic and other information, including memories, and can periodically broadcast this information to secure terminals where it is stored for future use. It can guarantee immortality by repeated uploading into new “sleeves,” generally the bodies of young adults. These bodies often "belong" to people who could not afford 28 to have themselves called out of storage. For more money still, bodies can be enhanced and equipped with all kinds of high-tech features, including a “neurachem” suite that provides lightning-fast reflexes, great strength and other bells and whistles like total recall, superhearing and carbon fiber bones and ligaments that feel no pain are much more difficult to damage or destroy. Such options are only available to the wealthy, and only the very wealthy can afford continual upgrades and replacements. This select few, known as “meths” – short for Methuselahs – are jaded, corrupt and treat normal humans as disposable resources. They buy off the police and authorities and create a two-tier system in which the majority lead a woefully impoverished, insecure and often short life in spite of extraordinary scientific and engineering advances of all kinds. Most technological breakthroughs have the potential to enhance the quality of life but also to degrade it. This was true of the steam engine, the railway, dynamite, nuclear power, television and the internet, to mention only a few prominent examples. Only exceptional Victorians were capable of imagining the up- and down-side of technology, as H. G. Wells did with airplanes and time travel. So did the now largely forgotten Walter Besant, author of The Inner House, published in 1888, and among the first novels to explore the consequences of extended life. In his Malthusian variant, individuals live long, healthy lives by virtue of the discovery in 1890 of a means of prolonging their “vital energy.” Hundreds of years in the future, this seemingly benign discovery leads to the “Great Slaughter,” in which most of the elderly are eliminated to make room for the rapidly expanding population. The chemical that enables longevity is controlled by the College of Physicians, who use their power to organize society along the most dreary socialist lines. After two World Wars, science fiction writers were understandably more 29 sensitive to the negative possibilities of new technology. Their villains are evenly divided between governments and corporations, and more recently, criminal feature prominently as well. In Larry Niven’s A World Out of Time, published 1976, Jerome Branch Corbell is cryogenically frozen to escape certain death from a brain tumor. He is revived in 2190 by a totalitarian global regime, known simply as “The State.” His personality and memories are extracted and transferred into the body of a criminal who has had his mind wiped clean in preparation. The new Corbell must periodically pass inspection by a "checker” who can terminate him if he fails any of a number of tests. The checker concludes that Corbell is a loner and born tourist and the ideal pilot and sole crew members of a new space ship whose mission it is to find planets suitable for colonization. Infuriated by his treatment as an expendable commodity, our hero hijacks the ship and heads for the center of the galaxy. Following a lengthy journey in a state of suspended animation, Corbell returns to Earth where three million years have elapsed. The sun has become a red giant and Earth’s orbit is now around Jupiter. He learns that the planet is dominated by a race of immortal, permanently pre-adolescent boys who defeated and eliminated otherwise immortal girls. The boys have enslaved the "dikta," unmodified humans, from whom they take promising boys to augment their ranks. The novel ends with Corbell and another human throwback conspiring to liberate the dikta and overthrow the tyranny of the boys. The Ophiuchi Hotline by John Varley, published in 1977, opens on the moon where the rebel geneticist Lilo faces execution for illegal experiments with human DNA. 30 She receives a visit from Boss Tweed, Luna’s most powerful politician, who has in tow his formidable bodyguard and Lilo’s clone, who has just emerged from a growth tank with all of Lilo’s memories. Tweed offers Lilo a deal: he will arrange her escape, the clone will die in her place and she will help him in his struggle against the Invaders. Like all Lunarians, she periodically records her memories for insertion into a clone if her body dies. The first time she does this with Tweed, she discovers that she has actually been killed twice, both times for trying to escape from his control. Lilo is sent to an asteroid and put in charge of maintaining the food supply. A complicated story line ensues in which multiple Lilos come into existence and one of them leads a successful revolt against Boss Tweed. In The Illuminatus! Trilogy, which appeared between 1975-1980, Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson offer an even more bizarre and convoluted tale about secret societies that appear responsible for the assassinations of the Kennedy brothers and Martin Luther King. Two Gotham detectives are drawn against their will into the eternal struggle between the Discordians and the Illuminati, the latter a conspiratorial society that secretly controls the world. We learn that the US government has developed a virulent strain of anthrax that has been accidentally released, meet Howard the talking porpoise from Atlantis who does battle against the Illuminati and moves to the offshore African island of Fernando Po where a Cold War crisis draws in the US, Soviet Union and China. Late in novel, a plot is exposed that aims to encourage mass human sacrifice to release the “life energy” necessary to provide immortality to a select group of people that includes Adolf Hitler. Behind this plot is the American Medical Association, a rock-androll band composed of four of the five “Illuminati Primi.” The sacrifice is to take place at 31 the first European Woodstock festival at Ingolstadt, Bavaria and bring back to life hibernating Nazi battalions at the bottom of the nearby Lake Totenkopf. The plot is foiled by the porpoises with the help of aliens and a reincarnated John Dillinger! The victors take refuge in a submarine, where they are threatened by a sea monster hundreds of millions of years old. The plot not surprisingly encourages some of the characters to wonder if they are in an absurdist novel. Threat and speculation alike subside when the on-board computer allows them to open a line of communication with the pursuing sea monster who turns out merely to be lonely with a need to talk. Other writers suspect that immortality will give rise to gerontocracy. Human societies benefit from constant renewal and change, something made possible by a turnover of leaders in every sphere of endeavor. Immortality could freeze elites and lead to stagnation. In Jack Vance’s To Live Forever, it all but paralyzes society, although individuals compete fiercely for the rewards of longer life and immortality. One of the characters in Wil McCarthy's Wellstone, complains bitterly about the consequences of the immortality of his mother, the Queen: "There's no changing of the guard, no retirement of old ideas. Every error gets entrenched, until a shock to the system is necessary to effect any change at all."69 He is one of a score of teenagers who are resentful of their immortal parents, whose wealth they will never inherit. They escape from a "summer camp" on an outlying "planette" to which they have been banished for bad behavior. In Holy Fire, published in 1997, Bruce Sterling describes a late twenty-first century world that has been transformed into a near-paradise by science and technology. Vice and illness have not disappeared but arise from the failure of well-to-do individuals to control their appetites or look after themselves properly. Society is governed by a gerontocracy and 32 life-extension technology is its leading growth industry. Mia Ziemann, a 94-year-old medical economist, uses her life savings to restore her body to the state it was when she was twenty. She quickly discovers that youth does not provide meaning and fulfillment, but actually makes her even more unhappy. She gives up her comfortable existence for life on the European streets with powerless artists and intellectuals and others unable to afford life-enhancing surgery. She becomes increasingly sympathetic to radical schemes to change the world. Opposition to gerontocracy reflects a widespread belief in the need for renewal and change as essential to the survival and success of individuals, groups and species. Immortality is understood to constitute a multi-pronged threat to this renewal. People participate in society because it helps to fulfill powerful needs, and engagement sustains the social order and serves as a catalyst for its evolution. To the extent that people no longer need society the social order will petrify. Science fiction author Brian Stableford, insists that immortality represents "the ultimate stagnation and the end of innovation and change."70 Aldous Huxley was among the first to warn of this danger. His Brave New World makes use of novel reproductive technology to remove child rearing as a source of social bonding. So do the “feelies” and the ready availability of mind-altering drugs, both of which allow people to experience pleasures in isolation that formerly required social contact, if not intimacy. Soma, an over-the-counter hallucinogen that offers hangover-free “holidays,” releases people from tensions and frustrations that might otherwise be directed against the political order. The feelies, drugs and readily available one-night stands all but eliminate the need for religion, clubs, families and any other aspect of civil society. Stability is further guaranteed by a rigid class structure that begins 33 at the hatcheries and conditioning centers where fetuses selected to join the lower castes are chemically treated to limit their intelligence and shape their physiques for specialized tasks. Higher caste “alphas” and “betas” are more carefully nurtured to internalize the values and ideals considered appropriate by World State leaders. Huxley’s evocation of Lenin and the Bolsheviks in his characters of “Lenina,” “Bernard Marx” and “Sarojini Engels,” and Mussolini and the Fascists in “Benito Hoover,” were more telling than he realized at the time. When Brave New World was written, Soviet-style communism was in its heyday and was regarded by many European intellectuals as a viable alternative to American-style capitalism. Italian Fascism also had its admirers, especially in Britain. Huxley’s characters prove powerless and inept in their respective rebellions, just as communism and fascism would in their struggle against capitalism. John the Savage, presumably the personification of Rousseau’s noble savage, hangs himself at the end of the novel. As Rousseau feared, property and its consequences deprive people of the features that make them human and their society tolerable. In a prescient review of Brave New World, G. K. Chesterton theorized that Huxley was revolting against the “Age of Utopias,” those decades in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, when H. G. Wells, George Bernard Shaw and other British intellectuals looked forward to the possibility of a democratic, socialist and even universalizing state: After the Age of Utopias came what we may call the American Age, lasting as long as the Boom. Men like Ford or Mond seemed to many to have solved the social riddle and made capitalism the common good. But it was not native to us; it went with a buoyant, not to say blatant optimism, 34 which is not our negligent or negative optimism. Much more than Victorian righteousness, or even Victorian self-righteousness, that optimism has driven people into pessimism. For the Slump brought even more disillusionment than the War. A new bitterness, and a new bewilderment, ran through all social life, and was reflected in all literature and art. It was contemptuous, not only of the old Capitalism, but of the old Socialism. Brave New World is more of a revolt against Utopia than against Victoria.71 Huxley was attracted to America but also repelled by it. Like so many Englishmen of his era he failed to grasp that what he disliked most about the US had more to do with its advanced state of capitalism than its national culture. Postwar writers, English and American, were more sensitive to this distinction and more explicitly anti-modern in their orientation. Pace Huxley, their dystopic stories and novels feature alternative reproductive technology, recreational sex, drugs and virtual reality. In Brave New World, most people die at age sixty. For postwar writers longevity and immortality became more plausible and something of synecdoche for scientific and technological progress. Huxley wrote at a time when advertising, mass entertainment and centralized governments with powerful bureaucracies were relative novelties. In the postwar era they were accepted features of modern life. By the 1970s, drugs and multiple sex partners for both genders became increasingly acceptable in some circles. A wide range of reproductive technologies also developed. Postwar writers had to look further afield 35 for innovation and immortality and advanced information systems were obvious choices. As we have seen, the two became mutually supporting in the 1990s. . Writing in the aftermath of two World Wars and the Holocaust, and in the midst of the Cold War, science fiction writers were on the whole more sensitive to the negative consequences of immortality and every other possible scientific advance. Their growing cynicism also reflected changing attitudes toward capitalism in the West. For a few, capitalism remained the solution to all problems, a belief that found its most extreme expression in neo-liberalism and the policies of the Thatcher, Reagan, Clinton and Bush administrations. For most science fiction authors, it was at best a mixed blessing, and one more likely to intensify stratification and exploitation of the underclass in the absence of meaningful governmental intervention and regulation. It is significant that socialist societies have all but disappeared in science fiction and its writers increasingly inured to the long-term survival of capitalism. We rarely, if ever, encounter a benign form of capitalism in their stories. Capitalism appears in its most rapacious forms, which is one of the principal reasons why immortality is expected to have such baneful consequences. Bill Joy, co-founder of Sun Microsystems, warns that genetic research, nanotechnology and robotics constitute long-term threats to humanity. It is not science per se that is the problem, but the socio-economic context in which it develops: “We are aggressively pursuing the promises of these new technologies within the nowunchallenged system of global capitalism and its manifold financial incentives.”72 In addition to the novels already noted, Frank Herbert’s, White Plague, Kurt Vonnegut, Cat’s Cradle and several episodes of Star Trek elaborate this premise. 36 Huxley and Orwell were more realistic than most of their postwar imitators in recognizing that utopia and dystopia alike require a high degree of conformity and compliance. They rely on Hobbesian coercion, Durkheimian social control or both. Postwar writers lived through an era in which governments became more powerful and social control more effective. They have no difficulty in imagining societies that are more restrictive than that We, Brave New World or 1984. They nevertheless give greater play to agency, a seeming oxymoron in these circumstances. Jerome Corbell, Ender Wiggin, Lilo, Takeshi Kovacs, among other heroes, succeed in their quests against incredible odds. They offer a striking contrast to heroes of Zamyatin, Huxley and Orwell, who fail and are rendered impotent. IMMORTALITY AND IDENTITY When people live for many centuries continuity becomes problematic. In many stories and novels people accumulate more experiences and memories than they can store in their brains. In Asimov’s Foundation series, this is also true of androids. People and robots alike must periodically wipe clean or severely edit their memories to make room for new ones. It did not occur to Asimov and most of these early authors that memories might be stored externally on hard drives or in data banks, making them accessible at will. Endless new experiences and repeated purges of memory will make these beings very different than they were at earlier stages of existence. The problem of edited memory is, of course, a special case of the age-old philosophical question of the relationship between sameness and change that I touched on in the introductory chapter. 37 If people change physically and emotionally and if their memories fade, alter or disappear, they become "successive selves" unable to claim a core continuous identity.73 One solution to this problem is to recognize that we are not the same people over time. Defensible as this proposition appears, it is deeply unsatisfying to most people on psychological grounds. No doubt, some individuals would be happy to put distance between themselves and unpleasant or unsuccessful pasts and welcome the idea of becoming different persons over time. Most of us feel a strong need for continuity as it is commonly understood to be an essential condition for a stable identity. Identity is valued for a host of emotional and practical reasons. People want to believe that there is some “self” that endures despite observable changes in appearance, feelings, thoughts and behavior. Society insists on continuity if marriages and other contracts are to have meaning and if people are to be held responsible for their past behavior. Research indicates that people feel unique and base this claim on their character, capabilities, life experiences and how the latter are mediated be memories. As we observed in chapter one, this claim encounters serious problems because memory is a resource that we constantly reshape to help us confront contemporary challenges. Our inability to remember these changes and to insist that our memories are stable can be taken as more evidence of our emotional need to defend a continuous identity. Our only enduring characteristics are such things as fingerprints, retinal patterns, mitochondria and DNA. These forms of continuity allow physical identification but do not provide the basis for psychological or emotional continuity. Longevity and immortality intensify the continuity problem in two ways. They greatly extend our life experiences while shortening and distorting, if not eliminating, 38 many memories. If we consider science fiction stories about longevity thought experiments, they drive home the inadequacy, even absurdity, of using memory as the basis of personal continuity and identity. Continuity is also dependent on the body. Minds cannot exist without bodies and our identity is linked to our body in important ways. Science fiction allows us to explore this relationship in novel ways because it can provide people with new or different bodies, of the same or different gender and on a temporary or long-term basis. It can also put us in multiple bodies, and they may confront one other, as Takeshi Kovacs and his double do toward the climax of Altered Carbon. Gender is another important characteristic of humanity, although not a distinguishing one as it is shared with many other species. In some stories and novels, gender is blurred or altogether disappears. Science fiction also allows various mixes of gender, boutique bodies and body shapes, combinations of humans and other species and mind implantation into different species. Advanced computer networks do away with bodies altogether. Through such stories we can explore, or at least imagine, some of the possible consequences of these transformations for individual and species identity. The central question, which science fiction raises but makes no serious attempt to answer, is how much physical change can we undergo and still feel ourselves? Interestingly, science fiction has not chosen to explore the option of giving up the demonstrably problematic belief in continuity and enduring identity. Multiple identities also get short shrift, even though many of us recognize that we have different understandings of ourselves, not always compatible, that coexist temporally and come to the fore in different circumstances. Novels that create multiple versions of the same 39 person, like Jack Vance's To Live Forever, John Varley's Ophiuchi Hotline and Richard Morgan’s Altered Carbon shy away from investigating the ensuing psychological consequences, although this would be an ideal context in which to do so. Altered Carbon goes the further than most. In a new sleeve as a ninja, Takeshi Kovacs meets himself, in the sleeve of the former lover of the police sergeant with whom he has teamed up. The two selves are not quite sure how to relate to one another and get into an argument about their father and his effect on their lives that represents a kind of the internal Bakhtinian dialogue. They then face the unenviable task of deciding which one of them can survive after they perform their required tasks because simultaneous duplication is against the law. Unable to find any compelling argument to agree to leave the decision to chance.74 Altered Carbon also offers some thoughts about relationships. Kristin Ortega, the police sergeant, is drawn to Kovacs because he is wearing the sleeve of her former lover. They have a satisfying sexual encounter but then Kristin feels unfaithful because the person inside the sleeve is not her lover. Kovacs is extremely drawn to her but not when wearing his ninja sleeve, leading him to conclude that attraction is primarily a matter of pheromones. This conclusion is undercut by the experience of another couple in which the wife returns home after years of storage in another body. She and her husband resume their relationship without a problem but she feels uncomfortable in the new sleeve. Other changes put people of one “race” into a sleeve of another, but these alterations are unproblematic for the characters and most of those with whom they interact. Many novels introduce consecutive identities, as opposed to continuous ones. This is most often accomplished through reincarnation. Those who experience rebirth can 40 enter the world in a new body with all but their most recent memories, as in Altered Carbon and Jack Vance’s To Live Forever. Or, they can be blank slates in new bodies, a condition that rules out continuity. In other novels, people are allowed varying degrees of recall of past lives providing them with multiple temporal identities in addition to those they go on to develop in the present. More dramatic possibilities include the cosharing of bodies in a way that allows a mind to enter and remain in the mind of another person or life form and share their experiences and thoughts. In Greg Egan’s Permutation City, humans inhabit the bodies of animals. People continually rebuild and reinvent themselves and custom-design children if they like. Any of these mixed situations pose interesting problems for the nature and meaning of identity, and only some of them related to the difficulty of sustaining continuity. Egan’s novel – and it is not unique in this regard – problematizes the meaning of humanity and its boundaries. Are we still human if we inhabit computers or the bodies of animals, or if we create ourselves rather than being the product of so-called “normal” biological processes? If we are not human, what are we? Orson Scott Card's Xenocide suggests that we achieve our humanity through our empathy for and relationships with others. There is no better way to achieve empathy than to share a body or a mind with someone else, whether human or alien life form or some version of AL. So breaking down barriers, not erecting and enforcing them, enhances, rather than diminishes, our humanity. This approach appears an extension of Plato’s understanding of dialogue and friendship. His Republic suggests that it is not argument and the sharing of views that brings order to society but the friendships such exchanges encourage. They build empathy, and with it, the ability to see ourselves 41 through the eyes of others. Looking at ourselves from the outside, we recognize that our understandings of justice and everything else is parochial and begin to take other's opinions more seriously. Most importantly, we treat tem as ontological equals. Plato and Card maintain that humanity is not an attribute of our physical or intellectual uniqueness but our ability to develop and live by ethical codes that accord equal status to others with whom it is possible to communicate. They imagine empathy arising from a blurring and overcoming of personal boundaries. For Card this interaction is played out at the personal and species levels. It requires a commitment to bridge species boundaries. Only then can friendships blossom with representatives of other species and evoke the kind of empathy that leads to broadened ethical horizons. Card’s hero, Ender Wiggin, has tried, not unlike Plato, to make this understanding more widely available through a text – a biography he has written of the last hive queen. Unlike Plato, book and author are well-received, in a fictional world, of course. But not everyone is sympathetic or convinced. One of the principal plot lines of the novel concerns the efforts of Jane, Ender and others to prevent the fleet dispatched by the Starways Congress, the supreme human authority – from receiving orders to destroy the one planet where humans have learned to mix empathetically with other species. Xenocide can be read as a parable about the age-old struggle between those committed to security at all costs and those worried this commitment will ride roughshod over and possibly destroy those values security is supposed to protect. As it is our values and empathy with others that make us human, the Starways Congress would destroy our humanity in order to protect it. 42 Another approach to immortality comes through artificial intelligence (AI) and its successor program, artificial life (AL). Both research programs encourage us to think about life, especially human life, in connection with its ability to perform complex cognitive tasks and how these tasks depend on information and its processing. Artificial intelligence sought to establish this claim by building machines that could ultimately rival humans in intelligence. This proved far more difficult than early researchers envisaged, although they devised sophisticated computer programs like Deep Blue, which in May 1997 won a six-game match against world chess champion Garry Kasparov.75 Artificial life researchers have reversed the causal arrow and think of human beings as machines whose neural systems are capable of performing complex tasks. They describe consciousness as an emergent property and thus an epiphenomenon.76 The basis for this claim is John Von Neumann’s insight that neural systems could be treated as Turing machines. With the help from Stanislas Ulam, he conceived of cellular automata governed by simple rules. Depending on the placement of agents, complex patterns develop that reproduce themselves or evolve into new patterns, often with indefinite life spans. This “game of life” generated the intuition that emergent properties might explain similar developments in the natural world. Subsequent work by Stuart Kaufmann suggests that boundary areas, where order and chaos intersect, that is where order is neither too strong nor too weak, are where innovation occurs.77 Artificial Life researchers describe first order emergence as those properties generated by interaction among the components of a system. Second order emergence, a rarer phenomenon, is the product of system properties that give it the potential to evolve. 43 Marvin Minsky speculates that humans may have developed this way. If so, computation would offer us a novel perspective on human beings and their intelligence. 78 Science fiction has begun to explore this understanding of life and its implications for human identity. In Orson Scott Card's Xenocide, one of its key characters, "Jane," is an extraordinarily powerful and sympathetic mind. She has somehow come into existence in humanity’s supraliminal communication network to which computer systems on every planet and space ship are connected. When Jane realizes that the central government has sent a fleet to destroy the planet Lusitania and its diverse life forms, she prevents transmissions from the government to the fleet to prevent them from sending the go-ahead order. By doing so, she risks exposure and destruction if the government shuts down the ansible system, even temporarily. Jane is desperately trying to figure out if she is alive or merely the artifact of a complex program, whose instructions she is executing. The humans with whom she is in contact conspire with her to help save the planet and try hard to convince her that she is a sentient being on the grounds that she has a complex emotional life and a will to live. The conventional understanding of identity requires a conception of self which in turn requires a conception of others. They need not be regarded unfavorably in any way, just somehow different. Difference is marked off by a boundary and identities are sustained by boundary maintenance. As we observed in the introductory chapter, these boundaries can be porous and shifting, and usually are in practice. Science fiction authors are interested in the boundaries of the bio-engineered humans or other life they create. They are caught in a revealing contradiction. To bring about their diverse life forms they must, of necessity, bridge traditional and long-standing boundaries, including 44 those separating different species and organic from inorganic matter.79 Most authors are nevertheless keen to defend the integrity of humanity and deploy various strategies toward this end. To distinguish humankind from machines many authors invoke affect. The term has a broad lexical field and is used in the science fiction literature to encompass not only feeling but vitality, imagination and the desire for free play, none of which machines are thought to possess. Jane violates this distinction as does "Hal 9000," the on-board computer in 2001 Space Odyssey, that becomes clinically disturbed and kills one of the crew. Even more problematic are androids with human capabilities. They have long been a dream of science fiction. J. Storer Clouston’s Button Brains, published in 1933, makes comic use of a robot that was mistaken for its human prototype. Czech writer Karel Čapek's 1921 play R.U.R. imagines robots so human-like in appearance that it is difficult to distinguish them from people. Čapek's robots are manufactured to free mankind from work. Helna Glory pleads with factory manager Harry Domin to free the robots. The manager insists they have no souls, but the play presents them as fundamentally human in their emotions and needs. They rebel against their servitude and kill all the people they can except for Alquist, a clerk and the only human they know who still works with his hands. Čapek intends his robots to be understood as allegorical representations of human beings that industrialization has reduced to near-mechanical beings and treats as if they were machines. Their rebellion is a form of socialist revolution that will annihilate the exploiting capitalist class. In contrast to postwar representations of androids, which often try to make them as human as possible, Čapek 45 blurs the distinction in the opposite direction by making humans more like their mechanical copies. Postwar fiction continues the theme of robot-human warfare. In Gregory Benford’s Ocean of novels there is a life-and death struggle between sentient beings and machines. Perry Rhodan novels also feature violence of this kind as do the popular Matrix films. These works reveal a fascination with androids but also fear that they constitute a threat to humanity. This threat arises from diametrically opposed motives humans project on to androids. They are assumed to want recognition as humans, and with it, equality, or alternatively, to hate their masters and seek to overthrow or destroy them. These contradictory projections have traditionally been associated with slavery and colonized peoples.80 In the postwar era, androids became a standard theme of science fiction movies and novels and began to be portrayed in a more favorable light. Gort, the robotic hero of The Day the Earth Stood Still, became something of a cult figure among sci fi fans as did Isaac Asimov’s R. Daneel Olivaw, a hero of his Robot and Foundation series of novels.81 In Asimov’s Caves of Steel, published in 1954, Lije Bailey, a detective, shares the usual anti-robot prejudice of earth-bound people, but gradually overcomes it in the course of his collaboration with Olivaw. Androids turn out to be law abiding and altruistic because they must follow the three laws of robotics, making them true Kantian figures.82 Andrew Martin, another of Asimov’s robots, becomes creative by virtue of a flaw in his program. He earns a fortune from his artistic works, buys his freedom and petitions the government to recognize him as human, which they refuse to do because of strong public opposition. Andrew finally gives up his immortality, accepts death and is posthumously recognized 46 as human.83 Data in Star Trek: The Next Generation, has similar yearnings. Not all novels portray androids favorably. In Philip K. Dick's, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sleep?, published in 1966, androids are used as workers and sex objects in Martian colonies and many escape to Earth. Constructed from organic materials and indistinguishable from humans in appearance, they are nevertheless considered objects. As with slaves in the antebellum South, they are pursued by bounty hunters, who seek to “retire” (kill) them. The need for boundary maintenance is more pronounced in the case of androids that it is with computers because the former not only have the potential to rival humans in intelligence but in appearance. Unlike computers, androids, who combine AL with robotics and nano-technology, are mobile and might one day be constructed to make them outwardly indistinguishable from human beings. The very name "android" derives from the Greek word for man. Androids and "gynoids" (female robots) could further blur boundaries by being engineered with sexual organs and an erotic appearance and manner. There would almost certainly be a market for such robots as many people would be drawn to the prospect of safe "low maintenance" sex partners. They might purchase or lease replicas of celebrities -- manufactured under license, of course -- or younger versions, of current, former or deceased partners. Sex generates enormous business on the internet and so it would on the android market.84 Only a few science fiction writers have gone down this road. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sleep? was the basis for the movie Blade Runner, in which all three of the important female characters are gynoids, two of whom use their sexual appeal to attempt to manipulate or kill the protagonist. The third acts as a submissive female, even after the protagonist forces himself on her. 47 "Sexbots" are already on the market. A German company called First Androids sells what it insists is the world’s most advanced sex doll for a mere $3820. She is alleged to have a remarkably realistic face and body, a “heavy breathing” function and an G-spot.85 Japanese and American companies make similar claims about their products.86 Boundary maintenance becomes more problematic when we examine it in historical perspective. Ancient Greeks distinguished human beings from animals on the basis of their intelligence. People could speak and cook their food. Down to the present, people distinguish themselves from animals on this basis, although it has become somewhat more difficult to do as zoologists have discovered that other primates are more intelligent that previously supposed. At best, there is a sliding scale of intelligence with humanity at the high end distinguished from other higher life forms more by degree than kind. With intelligent androids this gap would be closed; humans might be surpassed in intelligence. This recognition is troubling for some science fiction writers and raises challenging questions for others. As Asimov realized in Caves of Steel, android intelligence would almost certainly provoke a "racist" response from many people, and especially from those whose with low self-esteem or whose jobs or livelihood were threatened by cheaper and more reliable androids. The shift from intelligence to affect as the defining feature of human beings may not succeed in differentiating us from computers and androids if they become advanced enough to develop feelings. This move creates the additional problem of blurring the boundary between humans and animals as we have long known that the latter are capable of emotion, vitality and free play. Recognizing this similarity, the Greeks posited intellect as the unique human possession. In practice, neither intelligence nor affect will 48 effectively differentiate us from animals and artificial life forms. Boundary maintenance encounters additional problems when we consider "transhumans." Following Kafka, some science fiction writers, envisage human minds embedded in the bodies of other species, not all of them animals.87 Some consider melding, whereby we enter into symbiotic relationships with other terrestrial or alien species. If any of these possibilities ever come to fruition it will require far more fundamental adjustments in our self understanding than those encouraged by intelligent computers or androids. In our world, boundary maintenance is primarily a problem of groups, not species. In chapter four, I offered evidence that group boundaries are porous and fluid. For various reasons, people are sometimes admitted to "membership" even when they have qualities that would otherwise exclude them. The Nazis recognized some peoples an d individuals as "honorary Aryans [Ehrenarier] for political reasons. For economic reasons, the Japanese were made "honorary Aryans" by the Republic of South Africa during the era of apartheid. People also sneak into privileged categories, as did many African-Americans whose physical features allowed them to pass for white. Boundaries change in the sense that people who were once excluded – like Blacks in the examples above – can subsequently be incorporated into the group. The New Zealand Maori have not only been made fellow "Kiwis" by the dominant white culture, but provide cultural practices and associations that whites have adopted to define their identities and distinguish themselves from the Australians and the British. Individuals have multiple identities and specific ones assume primacy as a function of the information people receive and the situations they confront. Some kinds of multiple identities interfere with group efforts at boundary maintenance. Groups often 49 look the other way because conflict is disruptive. In some circumstances, however, they may compel individuals to choose between or among competing affiliations and expel or kill those who do not comply. During the Inquisition, Jews were forced to flee Spain or convert to Catholicism. Many “conversos” discovered that conversion was insufficient to assuage the need for purity demanded by the Spanish government and church. More than a few were burned at the stake, without any evidence, for allegedly practicing their former religion.88 In today’s world, shared bodies are uncommon among twins, but happen often enough for us to have coined the term “Siamese twins.”89 Less often children are born with two heads or two children with conjoined heads. Any of these people are fortunate to survive, but increasingly do thanks to modern surgery.90 Figurative links between people are the staple of social life. Long-married couples often read each other’s minds without the aid of telepathy and may think of themselves as a unit. Many families feel the same kind of bond, one that submerges the individual in the collective identity. Less healthy individuals can suffer from “multiple personality disorder” and report feeling different people at different times.91 If boundary maintenance is impossible on the grounds of intelligence or affect, those who feel the need to distinguish themselves from intelligent computers and androids, biologically enhanced humans and symbiots, must look elsewhere for markers and borders. This may be a principal reason why agency features so prominently in postwar science fiction stories and novels. The genre began as future-based adventure tales. Such tales, as noted in the previous chapter, feature heroes who prove their mettle, and often their virtue, through a series of dangerous encounters in which they triumph 50 over adversaries who most often represent the forces of evil. Fantasy continues this format. For true science fiction, agency should be problematic. Its authors portray increasingly large, complex and impersonal societies, often spread out among countless worlds, in which government is remote but in possession of awesome powers of surveillance and control. Many of these worlds are extensions of the modern one in which the individual is increasingly submerged and powerless within large organizations and economies seemingly ruled by impersonal and poorly understood forces. In Altered Carbon, to cite one example, the police and corporations track people at will, using digital implants and sophisticated sonic and visual technology. These technologies enables the government to control trillions of people and corporations to barrage them with advertising that directly appeals to their sensory organs. In such worlds, individual combat against the system seems doomed to failure and would-be heroes as comic as Don Quixote. The buccaneering spirit is nevertheless strong and individuals make all the difference in this and other science fiction tales. They routinely outwit governments, criminal syndicates and aliens, and always for old-fashioned moral ends. Asimov's “Foundation” series illustrates the fundamental absurdity of this trope. Its characters inhabit a vast galactic empire composed of millions of worlds where individuals, not even the emperor, count for very much. There is extensive trade among worlds, but it declines as the empire breaks up due to powerful centrifugal forces. The vast size and dispersal of human societies provide good reasons why events anywhere should have local effects and their consequences dampened, not amplified, on far-away worlds. Asimov introduces a powerful conceit: Hari Seldon's "psychohistory," a form of mathematical physics that allows gross predictions about the future that are continually 51 updated by members of the Second Foundation. Such determinism should further reduce the role of agency, but does not at all in the novels where individuals repeatedly act to move the course of history away from or back to the path envisaged by Seldon. Although not nearly as sophisticated as Homer or Sophocles, Asimov's psychohistory plays the same role as the fate in predetermining the course of events. As in the Iliad or Oedipus, agency is required to bring "prophecies" to fruition, and the individuals who do this often act with different, even opposite, ends in mind. By doing so, they confirm their humanity. More recent science fiction continues to emphasize agency in contexts where it is an unsupportable but essential conceit. In John Varley's Ophiluchi Hotline, two individuals defeat a phenomenally powerful and well-organized criminal conspiracy. In Greg Egan's Permutation City, the heroine changes the course of history by writing software that allows artificial life to evolve in a computer program. In Orson Scott Card's trilogy about humanity's interaction with the Buggers, agency is central at every decisive moment. In Shea and Wilson's The Illuminatus! Trilogy, two detectives save the world by unearthing and defeating a series of well-organized conspiracies. In Altered Carbon, Takeshi Kovacs, a former soldier, and Kristin Ortega, a low-ranking police officer, destroy a criminal syndicate run by some of the galaxy’s most powerful immortals. James Blish's Cities in Flight. Much of it is set on the frontiers of civilization, at the limits of, or altogether beyond, the writ of authority, in parts of the universe which are sparsely settled and inhabited largely by adventurers. As on all frontiers, agency has more leeway and individual actions can have far-reaching consequences. The beginning of the novel is a kind of Horatio Alger story. Cities leave the desolate earth to engage in 52 interstellar trading and key citizens are kept alive through the use of drugs. The hero, a young boy, who hunts squirrels on the outskirts of Scranton, Pa., stows away when the city goes into space. The several volumes of the series describe his rise to authority and critical role in saving humanity from aliens. Agency is an essential feature of narratives and helps to make science fiction marketable. There is an analogy to history where biographies are the best sellers. They too exaggerate the role of agency, and this may be one reason why they are so appealing to readers. As with science fiction and fantasy, readers of biography may welcome the depiction of agency as all-important as a refreshing contrast to their own feelings of impotence and insignificance. Reaffirmation of the myth of agency buttresses their selfesteem and sense of humanity. All species die, but only humans are aware beforehand of their inevitable fate. Various writers and philosophers have argued that recognition of our mortality is what makes us human. Some science fiction writers oppose immortality for this reason, suggesting it would make it impossible to lead a meaningful and balanced life. This theme runs through Tolkien. His elves are long-lived but less than human, and creatures who live greatly extended lives, like Frodo and the Ringwraiths, suffer from alienation or pain.92 For Olaf Stapledon there is no beauty without death and no drive to excel to life in the absence of a ticking clock.93 In Last and First Men, his Fifth Men, who live 50,000 years develop a "Cult of Evanescence," to preserve the contact with the primitive, and through it, their humanity. Ursula K. Le Guin’s, The Furthest Shore, presents death is a necessary means of balance. This is also a central theme of Frank Herbert's Dune series of novels. Every life form lives in balance with every other and human immortality 53 would unsettle this relationship with unforeseen consequences. Drawing on the Greek understanding of tragedy, his novels suggest that longevity, like every other power carried to excess, is certain to produce consequences the opposite of those intended.94 CONCLUSION Postwar Anglo-American science fiction represents a sharp break with Western tradition in its portrayal of immortality as a cause of dystopia. Immortality brings boredom and intensifies stratification as only the rich can afford the drugs or treatments that confer longevity. It prompts resentment among the poor who must life short lives. Anomie increases as social relationships decline, or vanish altogether, and with it, the possibility of progress and change. Immortality also lends itself to exploitation by tyrannical governments, greedy corporations and criminals. In no postwar science fiction novel of which I am aware does immortality help to create or sustain a utopia. Hero, heroine, or both, often find societies in which immortality is a feature unsatisfying. Some rebel or leave, as in City and the Stars, to return to a mortal world, and often one of lower technology. Here they hope to find happiness. This outcome, and the frequency with which it appears in science fiction stories and novels, suggest that it should be regarded as something of a mantra intended to protect us against impending changes and their perceived consequences. Ancient Greeks and medieval Christians were also wary of utopias, but for different reasons. The Greeks considered immortality an attribute of the gods. They lived forever and could foresee the future. Humans must accept their limitations and not confuse themselves with the gods; aspirations of immortality were considered a form of hubris and likely to lead to 54 greater unhappiness, if not punishment. For most of its history, Christianity has also judged immortality negatively. The present life is a dystopia, a kind of hell, in contrast to the afterlife that awaits the faithful. Immortality would only prolong this world and its suffering and deny good Christians their coveted and well-deserved reward. Greek and Christian understandings find some resonance in science fiction. Hubris is a central theme in some immortality novels, even if the concept is not explicitly deployed. The diverse scientific and medical advances that lead to longevity and immortality are occasionally accidental, but more often the result of deliberate efforts by human scientists and their societies. Most of the actors responsible are well-intentioned. The consequences of their discoveries and improvements invariably differ from what they had hoped or expected, making life worse, not better. The Greek playwrights and Thucydides make clear that hubris is a pathology of the powerful. Actors who have been successful in the past become overly impressed by their own cleverness and power and pursue overly ambitious and complicated strategies. For many postwar science fiction writers, who here echo Enlightenment critics, science is the ultimate form of hubris, and immortality the ultimate goal of science. Science fiction has come full-circle. It began as a rebellion against the Victorian literary elite but in the course of the twentieth century developed an equally pessimistic view about the social consequences of science and technology. In some ways science fiction’s take on immortality resonates with the Christian one. For both communities, real utopia can only come about through outside intervention. For Christians, god is the active agent, for science fiction writers it is generally aliens. The most upbeat science fiction novels, the ones that come closest to 55 being utopian, have humans transcend their nature by evolving into a new species or going into partnership with a more developed and wiser one. The first novel to make this move is British author Olaf Stapledon's, The Last and First Men, published in 1930. It describes the evolution of humanity through eighteen successor species over the course of two billion years. Influenced by Hegel and his dialectic, each species produces a high civilization but inevitably declines and gives rise to a successor. In the postwar era, Arthur C. Clarke’s 1953 Childhoods End, is undoubtedly the most influential evolutionary novel. Clarke follows Stapledon in making telepathy the key to transformation. It allows assimilation to the “Overmind,” a collective alien being that absorbs human children, bringing the human race to a higher level but at the price of losing individual minds and personalities. The Overmind arrives on a spacecraft, imposes world peace and prohibits space exploration. The Overmind’s goal is to reach out to and incorporate sentient species. It is served by slave-like “Overlords” who are incapable of being submerged and yearn for their freedom. A cult variant is the sci fi movie, The Day the Earth Stood Still, released in 1951. An alien spaceship lands in the Washington, D.C. Mall and the space visitor is met with hostility but is befriended by a curious boy and his mother. The alien demonstrates his awesome powers in an attempt to convince humans to live peacefully with one another but is shot and taken back to his spaceship by his loyal android Gort. This film is redolent with Christian symbolism, culminating in the death and rebirth of its alien “savior.”95 A more recent and sophisticated exemplar is Orson Scott Card’s Xenocide. It relies on a form of telepathy to link, in this case, multiple species. The "bugger" hive queen communicates with its workers this way and with humans and Pequininos, a 56 species that spends its mature state as rooted but sentient trees. Then there is Jane, the sentient being who lives in the “ansible” network connecting all the computers on all the worlds inhabited by human beings and uses telepathy to communicate with selected humans. Our species does not merge or become transformed but becomes wiser and more understanding of its place in the universe though it contact with other species. Xenocide is one of several novels in a series that begins with humanity’s life-and-death struggle with the “buggers,” the insectoid race of whom the hive queen represents that last survivor. In the first two novels each species attempts to eliminate each other and humanity destroys its adversary by making use of young combat game savvy teenagers as strategists. In Speaker for the Dead it becomes apparent that the war was a tragedy because it might have been averted by communication between the species. All the universe’s sentient beings can be divided into species with whom humans can communicate and those with whom they cannot. It is theoretically possible to live in peace with all of the former, and Ender attempts to demonstrate how this is possible with the buggers and Pequininos. Xenocide can be read as a reflection on hubris. For the Greeks, its opposite was sophrosunē, best understood as a form of humility and self-restraint that arises from an understanding of one’s insignificant place in the universe. After the wars against the buggers Ender becomes “Speaker for the Dead,” when he publishes “The Hive Queen,” that tells the story of the buggers and portrays them in a favorable light.96 In the last two novels, Ender reaches the kind of understanding associated with sophrosunē through his interactions with family members, the other species on Lusitania and Jane. His wisdom 57 distinguishes him from most of the rest of humanity and especially from the demonstrably short-sighted, self-serving and heartless rulers of the Starways Congress.97 We live in a dystopia. For traditional Christians this is the result of sin, original or subsequent, and for most science fiction writers, a reflection of our nature. Christianity teaches that the next life could be a golden age. The Enlightenment encouraged the belief that utopia could be achieved in this world. All efforts to bring it about have failed, and, many would argue, have been counterproductive. This has not stopped people from trying to build a better life for themselves and others, even though the pessimists insist that such efforts only produce more dehumanizing dystopias. Science fiction generally conveys a pessimistic message, although some authors, as we have seen, hold out the prospect of transcending our condition with the help of aliens and evolution. Read as cautionary tales, science fiction's dystopias encourage us to understand the present as possibly better than the future in many ways. While not pretending that the present is any kind of utopia, its authors make it appear a relatively better world than we might otherwise think. Dispensationalists insist that the world is also getting worse. They derive comfort from moral and political decline because they believe it will hasten the rapture. Much of Dispensationalism’s appeal is in its message that people should take heart from what they lament and fear. The Left Behind series strives to build a community among believers by encouraging a sense of superiority among them by virtue of their shared knowledge of the future and the joyous fate that awaits them. Science fiction builds a community on the shared belief of many of its readers that they are insiders with profound insights into possible human futures. Unlike millennialism, science fiction does not hold out the 58 prospect of a better life or of being saved. It does offer cognoscenti solace, community and self-esteem, both powerful foundations of identity. Left Behind and science fiction share another interesting attribute: the relative absence of procreation. In Left Behind, Buck and Chloe father a child, who is very much in the background. Children appear in real numbers only in Millennium, even though Jesus makes the sexual drive disappear with immortality. Procreation is, of course, a traditional means of achieving figurative immortality by passing down one's name and genes. Christianity has tended to treat immortality and procreation as something of an either-or choice. Jesus fathered no children, Augustine became celibate because he considered sex a form of loss of control and Origen castrated himself to better serve god and the nuns with whom he worked. For Christianity, spiritual commitment has always been associated with chastity and other forms of physical denial. Modern secular thinkers also frame an inverse relationship between immortality and childlessness, albeit for different reasons. There is the Malthusian constraint in which immortality combined with procreation would quickly overpopulate the earth unless people settled other worlds. Such a problem should be nugatory for science fiction novels in which space travel is a standard conceit. Economic and psychological constraints loom more important. In some novels characters are loath to produce children because they must share their fortunes with them. Children may be less satisfying emotionally if we no longer need them to achieve a merely figurative form of immortality. In the twentieth century, the birth rate dropped dramatically throughout the industrial world as wealth and life spans increased. 59 Some science fiction novels -- Greg Egan's Schild's Ladder is a case in point -feature characters who derive pleasure from multiple generations of children. More commonly, extended life goes together with infertility, as with the Mule in Asimov's “Foundation” series, Barjavel's Le Grand Secret, Damon Knight's Dio and William Gibson's Sprawl trilogy. Howard Hendrix speculates that science fiction reproduces Christian tradition in secular form. Immortality stops physical maturation in a youth, in a stage of life where mortal people would generally marry and start families. Eternal youth interrupts the cycle of birth, growth, reproduction and death. It recovers the prelapsarian state of Adam and Eve as "immortal flowers" that bear no fruit.98 In Christianity, this allows identity to become other-directed and focused on eternal life. In science fiction, it becomes more inner-directed as the self becomes the end-all of a life in this world. REFERENCES 1 Tennyson, “Tithonus.” 2 Disch, Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of, pp. 1, 5. 3 Herodotus, Histories, 3: 22-24 4 Homer, Odyssey, 5: 152-57. 5 Faulkner, "Address upon Receiving the Andrés Bello Award." 6 Wikipedia, "List of Countries by Life Expectancy," using data from the United Nations, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_by_life_expectancy 7 Wells, World Set Free; Lanouette, Genius in the Shadows, pp. 107, 134. 8 Interview with Leo Szilard, “President Truman Did Not Understand,” U.S. News& World Report, 15 August, 1960, pp. 68-71; Petition to the President of the United States, 60 signed by Leo Szilard and 69 co-signers, 17 July 1945. http://www.dannen.com/decision/45-07-17.html Glenn T Seaborg to Ernest O Lawrence, 13 June 1945, Nuclear Files, http://nuclearfiles.org/menu/library/correspondence/seaborg-glenn/corr_seaborg_194506-13.htm 9 Card, Xenocide, p. 35. Also Stapledon, Last and First Man, p. 11; Joy, "Why the Future Doesn't Need Us." 10 Guy Gavriel Kay, “Fiction versus Fantasy,” http://www.treitel.org/Richard/sf/fantasy.html; Nick Gevers, “The Literary Alchemist: An Interview with Michael Swanwick,” http://www.infinityplus.co.uk/nonfiction/intms.htm 11 Williams, Makropulos Case, pp. 82-100. 12 Fischer and Carl, "Philosophical Models of Immortality in Science Fiction." 13 Lem, Star Diaries. Also Farmer’s Riverworld series 14 Clark, City and the Stars; Herbert, Dune and God-Emperor of Dune; Card, “Thousand Deaths.” 15 Stableford, Empire of Fear, 16 Simmons, Hyperion, for something similar. 17 Gunn, Immortals; Anderson, Boat of a Million Years; Kuttner and Moore, Fury; Zelazny, This Immortal; Jones, Crown of Dalemark; Van Vogt, Slan; Shiras, Children of the Atom. 18 Clark, How to Live Forever, pp. 26-27. 19 McCaffery, Ship Who Sang. 61 20 Wiener, Human Use of Human Beings, pp. 103-04. 21 Moravec, Mind Children, pp. 109-10. 22 Minsky, “Why Computer Science is the Most Important Thing that has Happened to Humanities in the Last 5,000 Years,” Lecture, Nara, Japan, 15 May 1996, cited in Hayles, How We Became Post-Human, p. 13. 23 In Benford, In Alien Flesh. 24 Hayles, How We Became Posthuman, p. 12. 25 Benford, "Doing Lemon," in Benford, In Alien Flesh. 26 Morgan, Altered Carbon, Broken Angels and Woken Furies; Martin, Mask of the Prophet, p. 204. 27 Lifton, Future of Immortality, p. 3. 28 Wilson, Philosopher’s Stone, for another variant of species memory. 29 Saramago, Death at Intervals. 30 Shaw, Back to Methusalah. 31 Anderson, Boat of a Million Years, makes this point. 32 Vance, To Live Forever; Zelazny, Today We Choose Faces 33 Blish, Clash of Symbols. 34 Roberts, History of Science Fiction, pp. 1-20. 35 Luckhurst, Science Fiction, pp. viii, 1-12. 36 Disch, Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of, p. 11. 37 Suvin, Metamorphoses of Science Fiction, p. 89. 38 Roberts, Science Fiction, ch. 1 for a review of definitions. Luckhurst, Science Fiction, pp. 1-12, on the development of the genre. 62 39 Carlyle, “Signs of the Times.” 40 Arnold, Culture and Anarchy, pp. 33-34, 47. 41 Weber, “On Bureaucracy.” This title is not Weber's, but his translators. 42 Luckhurst, Science Fiction, p. 48 43 Roberts, Science Fiction,” p. viii; Luckhurst, Science Fiction, pp. 2-3. 44 Luckhurst, Science Fiction, p. 5; Miles, Gothic Writing, p. 2; Aldiss, Billion Year Spree, p. 8. 45 Dryden, Modern Gothic and Literary Doubles; Hurley, Gothic Body. 46 On this point, Unwin, "The Fiction of Science"; Harris, "Measurement and Mystery in Verne." 47 Capitano, “’L’ici-bas’ and ‘l’Au-delà." 48 Williams, Keywords, on high and low literary forms. 49 Suvin, Positions and Suppositions, p. 10; James, Science Fiction in the Twentieth Century, p. 48; Luckhurst, Science Fiction, p. 7. 50 Wells, Short History of the World. 51 Evans, "Jules Verne and the French Literary Canon." 52 Disch, Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of, p. 4. 53 Luckhurst, Science Fiction, p. 115; Disch, Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of, pp. 92-93. 54 Seed, American Science Fiction and the Cold War; Disch, Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of, pp. 163-84. 55 Disch, Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of, pp. 83-87, 164-70, on Heinlein. 56 Reade, Martyrdom of Man, p. 433. 57 Capitano, “’L’ici-bas’ and ‘l’Au-delà," for a discussion. 63 58 See chapter two for a discussion of these novels. 59 Anderson, Un-Man and Other Novellas; Spinrad, Iron Dream. 60 Asimov, Foundation. 61 Disch, Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of, p. 2, notes that Japanese Sci Fi is largely derivative. Frongia, "Cosmifantasies," on Italian science fiction. 62 Connor, English Novel in History, p. 1. 63 Cited in Clark, How to Live Forever, pp. 14-15. 64 Adams, Life, the Universe and Everything, p. 9. 65 Egan, Permutation City, p. 284. 66 Herbert, Heaven Makers, p. 22. 67 McCarthy, Wellstone, p. 9. 68 Aristotle, Rhetoric, II, Chapter 10. 69 McCarthy, Wellstone, p. 71. 70 Stableford, "Immortality." 71 G. K. Chesterton, “Review of Brave New World, Illustrated London News, 4 May 1935. 72 Bill Joy, “Why the Future Doesn’t Need Us,” Wired, August 2004, http://www.wired.com/wired/arcCchive/8.04/joy_pr.html; see also Glover, What Sort of People Should There Be?, p. 18; Stapledon, Last and First Man, p. 11. 73 Jonas, "Philosophical Reflections on Experimenting with Human Subjects"; Glannon, "Identity, Prudential Selves and Extended Lives," 74 Morgan, Altered Carbon, pp. 443-51. 75 Hsu, Behind Deep Blue. 64 76 Doyle, On Beyond Living; Levy, Artificial Life; Emmeche, Garden in the Machine; Kampis and Cansyi, “Life, Self-Reproduction, and Information”; Steels and Brooks, Artificial Life Route to Artificial Intelligence; Brooks, “Intelligence without Representation”; Hayles, How We Became Posthuman, pp. 237-39. 77 von Neumann, Theory of Self-Replicating Automata; Kaufmann, Origins of Order Wolfram, “Universality and Complexity in Cellular Automata,” and “Computer Software in Science and Mathematics”; Langton, “Computation at the Edge of Chaos.” 78 Barkow, Cosmides and Tooby, Adapted Mind; Minsky, Society of Mind, pp. 17-24; Hayles, How We Became Posthuman, p. 241-44. 79 Hayles, How We Became Posthuman, pp. 279-82, on how boundaries are routinely broached in post-modern fiction. 80 Lebow, White Britain and Black Ireland. 81 Most notably in Asimov, Caves of Steel, Naked Sun, Robots of Dawn, Robots and Empire, Prelude to Foundation, Forward the Foundation, Foundation and Earth and all the books of the Second Foundation Trilogy. 82 On this last point, Roberts, History of Science Fiction, pp. 199-200. 83 Asimov, Complete Robot. 84 Levy, Love and Sex with Robots, for a celebration of these possibilities. 85 "The Girl Below is Actually an Android Sex Doll," The Frisky, http://www.thefrisky.com/post/246-the-girl-below-is-actually-an-android-sex-doll/ 86 Check out RealDoll, http://www.realdoll.com/ 87 Kafka, Metamorphosis. 88 Kamen, Spanish Inquisition. 65 89 “Doctors Separate Conjoined Benhaffaf Twins, BBC, 8 April 2010, http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/northern_ireland/8610399.stm 90 “Op to Remove Baby’s Second Head,” BBC, 21 February 2005, http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/4285235.stm; “Separated Twins Come Face-to-Face, BBC, 25 October 2003, http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/middle_east/3209210.stm; “Conjoined Twins Operation Goes Ahead in London,” Guardian, 7 April 2010, http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2010/apr/07/conjoined-twins-separated-london. 91 Web MD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, http://www.webmd.com/mental- health/dissociative-identity-disorder-multiple-personality-disorder 92 Crossley, “A Long Day’s Dying.” 93 Smith, "Olaf Stapledon and the Immortal Spirit." 94 McLean, "Question of Balance." 95 The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) 96 Card, Speaker for the Dead. 97 Ibid; Card, Xenocide. 98 Hendrix, "Dual Immortality, No Kids." 66