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Science Fiction

Damien Walter

Join writer and storyteller Damien Walter on an exploration of the world as seen through a science fiction lens.

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  • 27 episodes
  • Avg 28 min
  • English
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  • September 10 · 52 min

    The prophetic visions of Philip K Dick

    We are living in strange times. Politics. Society. Culture wars. Things have gone weird. We’re looking for knowledge and wisdom to guide us in strange times. I can think of no better guide to the year 2022 than Philip K Dick. The author of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, the inspiration for Blade Runner, is best known as a science fiction writer. But after his infamous spiritual awakening and the events of 2-3-74, Philip K Dick became something more….a visionary prophet who saw our strange times coming. Subscribe to the podcast in Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/science-fiction/id1530666687 Google: https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9kYW1pZW5nd2FsdGVyLmNvbS9jYXRlZ29yeS9wb2RjYXN0L2ZlZWQv?hl=en-ID Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/303cZ10vZ7kX2zrdnGqXxV Audible & Amazon Music: https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/37a93ee5-a10e-4389-8613-b815c2bd8a6a Stitcher: https://www.stitcher.com/s?fid=644462 Podcast player of your choice with the direct RSS feed (Copy and Paste) : https://damiengwalter.com/category/podcast/feed/ Join the Science Fiction community on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/324897304599197 Listen here: Watch on YouTube:

  • September 9 · 17 min

    Who killed Star Trek Wars?

    The Aircraft Carrier and the Starship The USS Enterprise CVN 65 is, at least indirectly, the most famous of warships. The first aircraft carrier with nuclear engines was the inspiration for the USS Enterprise NCC-1701 and its warp engines. Gene Roddenberry was also fascinated by the earlier Enterprise CV6, a Yorktown class carrier, that fought in and survived WW2. Roddenberry’s original name for the Enterprise was “Yorktown”. NBC executives commissioned Star Trek not for its scifi ideas, the first pilot was scrapped for being “too cerebral”, but because they liked how relatable the show was to the US navy. I go “much* deeper into this in my longform video Star Trek Is Propaganda which lays out the full case with all the evidence. So let’s just agree here that the original Enterprise is on a five year mission to build the United Nations…er….Federation and Star Trek is an idealised image of the United States navy in space… …until the Vietnam war shattered that ideal. George Lucas is on the record that Star Wars, as a myth of an advanced technological state defeated by brave low-tech rebels, was inspired by America’s war against Vietnam and the Viet Cong. And what was the aircraft carrier sitting in the Gulf of Tonkin launching Tie-fighter sorties? It was the USS Enterprise CVN 65. One real warship inspiring Hollywood’s two most famous starships. An Imperial star destroyer and a nuclear aircraft carrier play the same strategic role: mobile sovereign territory that projects force over a region without asking permission. The weapon of choice to control a rowdy galaxy of planetary states, or a post-WW2 planet of competing nation states… …whether you’re the United States of America or the United Federation of Planets. A democratic Republic. Or a totalitarian Empire. Which is the real question. Manufactured Myths: From Romulus to Madison Avenue Every era has its mythos. The Greeks had the Olympians, Homer and more. Ancient India had the Ramayana. You get the idea. Stories that tell us where we come from. Rome had Romulus and Remus. A mythos that told citizens they were the fierce children of gods and wolves. And that their city was founded as a sanctuary. That the polis could take in outcasts and make them citizens. Which is to say that..this sh*t matters. The myths of a nation shape it in great and terrible ways. The United States has been desperate for a mythos for all of its short history. The Old West. The Founding Fathers. George Washington and his tree. In 1892 Francis Bellamy, a Baptist minister, wanted to sell American flags to schools. The pledge of allegiance was written as a sales device. It worked. 26,000 schools participated on the first day. Bellamy’s straight armed salute was changed to hand on heart in 1942 for…obvious reasons. The American mythos wasn’t written by a priest class, although Madison Avenue advertising executives surely played a part, it burst like a whirlwind of bullsh*t from the chaos of capitalism. Enter Star Trek Wars, stage right Federation vs. Empire: The Superpower Dialectic From the capitalist competition of Hollywood studios and transnational corporations to make movies that American consumers would buy tickets for… …emerged the conjoined mythos of Star Trek Wars. Post-WW2 America faced one giant civilisational scale question… …how to be a superpower. Star Trek is the highest vision of what America believed it could be. The epitome of liberal democratic power. Making alliances not enemies. Rebuilding its opponents and making them friends. Wielding the power of science and technology not to dominate, but to raise up the entire galaxy…or world. Star Wars is the dark side of American power. America as its haters and critics accuse it of being. Not a liberal democratic super-power bringing order to the world, but an extractive Empire with super-weapons. Demanding tribute from its vassal states by making us buy your sh*tty, over budget weapons platforms, dropping napalm on Ewoks because…you can. Star Trek Wars is the twin mythos of American culture having an argument with itself. Is America the Federation… …or the Empire? But the really interesting thing about Star Trek Wars, as I write here in 2026, with Star Wars hitting the half century and Star Trek at 60… …is that Star Trek Wars is a dead mythos. And the real question is…who killed it? Voices Outside the Overton Window I was prompted to make this short video essay by Feral Historian’s brief reminiscence on Star Trek at 60. And Feral’s conclusion that he just didn’t care about Star Trek anymore. Feral and I have both made numerous videos on Star Trek and Star Wars. We have, arguably, the two most similar channels on youtube, both critiquing scifi for its philosophical and historical meaning. From opposing ends of the political spectrum. Feral somewhere over on the libertarian right, while I’m typically on the socialist left. But while we disagree on plenty…Feral…does not like Marxists… …we both find ourselves outside the liberal centre. Looking into the territory of the political landscape comfortably covered by the Overton window, critiquing its myths. And the reason the dissident right and the radical left are both winning elections and dominating the online discourse, is the same reason the myths of Star Trek Wars have died. The myths are dead because the thing they were about is dying. The Usual Suspects: Reboots, Culture Wars, and Megacorps For many decades Star Trek Wars charted the dialectic between Federation and Empire in the American psyche. Next Generation and Deep Space Nine doubled down on the institutional confidence of the Pax Americana. The Federation was technocratic liberalism triumphant. Flawed at its borders perhaps, but well intentioned and morally self-correcting. The Star Wars Prequels mapped the dark anxieties within the dream. Showing how a decadent, bureaucratic Republic rots from within and invites its own Emperor under the guise of emergency powers…George Lucas critiquing the War on Terror / Patriot Act era. There’s a good reason why this era of Star Trek Wars today provides the memes to discuss our political situation online, from the political compass expressed as Trek factions, to a former Stormtrooper with a Sith chest tattoo running for senate. Because sometime in the 2000s Star Trek Wars began to die. It would be too easy to answer the question Who Killed Star Trek Wars with JJ Abrams. Hollywood’s biggest hack was given the keys to the American mythos and instead of continuing to drive that Cadillac down the long empty highway of the American psyche, JJ did the only thing he knew how to do. He tried and failed to reboot it. But JJ was really just the man brought in to wield the axe. He could no more personally kill a mythos than could… …Daisy Ridley. Poor old Daisy, as the face of Rey, has been made the whipping girl for the most popular answer to our question… …that Woke killed Star Trek Wars. The simple fact that Star Trek and Star Wars were both always almost painfully woke. Both always had empowered female characters, and diverse casting, and intensely political storytelling. These facts count for nothing, because facts cannot change a belief built on bullsh*t. The third answer to who killed Star Trek Wars, and the one I have a weakness for, is corporate capitalism. Star Wars was bought by Disney, a corporate bureaucracy whose only understanding of mythos is how much it cost them to buy and how much they can squeeze out of the franchising rights. Asking Disney executives to make Star Wars is basically like asking Vogons to write poetry. Meanwhile, Star Trek was first flushed into the Viacom sewer and then more recently bought out by the Sith lord Larry Ellison and his son Darth David. Star Trek, the myth that unflinching mirrored America’s imperial follies, from Vietnam to Afghanistan, is now owned by a billionaire who absolutely 100% will not allow it to say anything about certain ongoing political travesties supported by the US. If the Dominion should show up in Strange New Worlds to perform a perfectly justified military invasion of Bajor…you will know why. Now. A lot of you are going to be shouting the same word at me around now. ANDOR. Yes, I know about Andor. I’m the guy who made that video you watched two years ago about Andor being Marxist. And now everyone is saying so. But Andor is not the saviour of Star Wars. It’s the deathblow. Disney bought Star Wars for the same reason they bought Marvel. As a franchise to brand products churned out from their dark satanic CGI mills. They made Dave Filoni the boss because he’s the nerd you hire to churn out corporate slop. Andor is the evidence that this business strategy is not sustainable. Tony Gilroy is the proof that art is made by artists. But. As tempting as the answer is that capitalism killed Star Trek Wars, it’s not like these franchises came from anywhere other than corporate greed in the first place. America has always been a cabal of corporate profit seekers in a trenchcoat, selling a dream of liberal democracy to cover up that capitalism was never liberal or democratic. The real answer to who killed Star Trek Wars, the American mythos. Is America. The Collapse of Hegemony and the Final Choice Star Trek Wars is America arguing about what to do with power. The Star Trek mythic answer, build a higher civilization. Or the dark Star Wars vision of Imperial power. What Star Trek Wars was never equipped to deal with was the collapse of power. To mix my scifi metaphors: The Federation dispatched its star destroyers to deal with the religious nutters on Arakis… …and the star destroyers returned six months later, mission failed, covered in rust. Because he who can destroy a thing controls a thing. And America no longer controls the levers of global power. The aircraft carriers are obsolete. The Patriots are 200 times more expensive than every drone shot down. But these are just symptoms of the fundamental reality. America is 4% of the global population and 15% of GDP, falling fast. The United States is not the Federation or the Empire. It doesn’t have the power anymore to be either. Star Trek Wars was a mythos of destined power. The Federation governs with the moral certainty of a civilisation that believes absolutely in its own cultural superiority. The Empire is led by demi-gods. Neither apply to America. American power was never destined, and never certain. It was contingent. The outcome of good geography, a fortunate history, and some ruthless decisions. As those contingencies fade, so goes the power. In the face of that reality America has chosen between its twin mythic destinies, and decided to become the Empire. MAGA are the people who watched Star Wars and thought the Death Star was cooooool. They elected Tangerine Palpatine. Twice. ICE are domestic stormtroopers ready to be turned on citizens and toss you into Narkina 5. And Darth Hegseth is desperate to unleash the tactical nuclear Death Stars on Tatooine. Let’s hope he doesn’t get the chance. Because there’s a better choice for America than doubling down to become the Evil Empire. All myths are lies. Every national mythos is propaganda to some degree. America was never the Federation or the Empire. But myths are also visions. Orienting stories that shape decisions. Dreams that cannot come true, but can guide us to a better future. The Empire leads only to the dark side…I mean come on people did you not watch Star Wars? The Federation is a myth that can lead to the light. The Federation’s strength was never its starships, but its Prime Directive. Its willingness to NOT grasp power. Not to impose itself by force, but instead to cooperate. It was always America’s best destiny. The destiny you choose. The destiny you build. And it still could be. Listen to the podcast audio here

  • August 31 · 27 min

    ChatGPT is made of people!

    Soylent Green and the enclosure of collective intelligence. It Was Never Artificial ​In the summer of 1956, a group of men in surprisingly sharp casual wear sat around at Dartmouth College to invent a science. The science already existed and was called “cybernetics”, since another group of academics called it that at the 1949 Macy conference, after the term invented by Norbert Wiener. “…one of the reasons for inventing the new term was to escape association with ‘cybernetics.’ I wished to avoid having either to accept Norbert Wiener as a guru or having to argue with him.” — John McCarthy, 1988 The ambitious young computer scientist John McCarthy didn’t want to bow down to “cybernetics.” Norbert Wiener had already claimed it, and John didn’t want to follow the Wiener. He wanted to lead his own academic field. And ​so the term “Artificial Intelligence” was conceived. Not so much as a description. But as a branding exercise. So from the very beginning artificial intelligence, or cybernetics, or whatever we choose to call it, was shaped by what we chose to call it. Seventy years later we are all living inside John McCarthy’s decision to call it Artificial Intelligence. And it’s getting really fucking annoying. Watch the full video essay here The God-Shaped Hole in Silicon Valley ​Think about the word “Artificial.” It means made, manufactured, created, by a person of skill and knowledge, the artificer. And that word “Intelligence”. It installs a little ghost in the machine. The thing created is also a creator. A tiny deity. Cybernetics does entirely the opposite. Like other alternate labels – machine learning, complex information processing, self-regulating systems science – cybernetics strips the ghost out of the machine. Cybernetics, from the Greek for “steersman” or “captain”, kybernētēs, is the study of “control and communication” in systems that steer themselves, that do NOT have a pilot at the wheel. Systems that are not made by an artificer, and do not summon a god. Which is why Silicon Valley ditched cybernetics, and promotes the hell out of Artificial Intelligence. Because the A G I – G O D is where the money is. ​And if you’re summoning a deity, you need an eschatology. You need the tech-bro equivalent of the Book of Revelation. Hence, the last five years of tedious podcast discourse. The Awakening. The Alignment Problem. The Singularity. A bunch of billionaires in Patagonia vests conducting a medieval theological dispute about how to appease a silicon god that they themselves pretend to have built. ​So. Stop. Breathe. Double breath in through the nose, fill the lungs, explosive out through the mouth. Repeat as required. And let’s look at what is actually in the machine, shall we? ​It’s not a god. It’s a zip file. A very, very large zip file of everything we’ve ever written down. It’s Shakespeare, yes. But it’s also every petty Wikipedia edit war about the exact causes of the War of Jenkin’s Ear 1738 to 1748, thousands of court transcripts, and every angry Yelp review of a Pizza Express from here to Woking. All of it scraped, compressed, and smoothed over by a bloke in Manila being paid two quid an hour to click a button that says, “No, please don’t let the machine say that.” A zip file of human knowledge so heavily compressed that the actual knowledge is gone, and only the statistical relationships between the bits of knowledge remains. Because AI isn’t a superintelligence descending from the noosphere. It’s just us. It’s the accumulated, unpaid cognitive labor of humanity, compressed into a matrix of weights, and then sold back to us for twenty dollars a month. Nothing about AI is artificial. It’s collective. Both Sides Many of you are, like me and Ezra Klein, concerned about POLARIZATION. People just don’t seem to be able to see both sides of the story anymore. ​Which is why I’m partnering with Bothsides.ai. ​Bothsides is an advanced neural-network news aggregator that eliminates bias by categorizing millions of daily data points into three precise, scientifically calibrated camps: The Wholesome Right, The Rational Center, and Dirty Commies. ​Take this radicalized narrative as an example: “City Council Debates Adding a Dedicated Bus Lane For Disabled People.” ​As you can see, this story is being heavily propagandized by Dirty Commies like The Wall Street Journal, Reuters, Bloomberg, and The Financial Times. Scum. ​But this is where Bothsides brings clarity by recommending a story from the Rational Center: a 45-post thread on Xitter by the founder-CEO of an AI bus start-up. ​Or this seemingly innocent story of a litter of orphaned kittens being adopted by a golden retriever called Mildred. Notice how “mainstream media”—AKA Dirty Commies and their influencers like bleeding-heart libtard Jennifer Aniston—try to frame this as a heartwarming story, entirely ignoring that these kittens are… PERSIAN. ​Enter Bothsides.ai to bring balance from The Wholesome Right: an 18,000-word screed on WarMonger.com demanding the kittens, and Mildred, be targeted with cruise missiles and sent back to Satan where their Islamist souls belong. ​Bothsides.ai’s TruthFilter uses a specially trained LLM to automatically detect Dirty Commie trigger words like “socialism” and instantly inserts “that killed 100 million people.” And it efficiently removes any mention of the Bengal famine, the napalming of children, the transatlantic slave trade, or any of the 3,700 other confirmed atrocities committed under capitalism. ​My favorite tool inside the app is the Back To Center feature. ​Did you accidentally read too many articles about how twelve families now control as much wealth as 158 million Americans? Well, never fear. Bothsides.ai detects the possibility you might start supporting wealth taxes and will relentlessly bombard you with stories about trans-athletes in college sports to make sure you aren’t radicalized by mainstream extremist publications like The Economist or The National Weather Service. ​Tempted to subscribe to a reputable scientific journal? Bothsides.ai has thousands of MAHA-approved online blogs where you can do your own research. ​Curious about a journalist’s funding sources? Bothsides.ai will help you sort deep-state stooges and their “Pulitzer Prizes” from noble independent scholars, free-thinking contrarians, and truth-loving, Russian-funded assets. ​And of course, Bothsides.ai gives you both sides of globalist psyops, eco-terrorist conspiracies and Marxist weather fictions like “climate change” – even as the firestorm is gutting your family home. ​Go to Bothsides.ai and use code DAMO to get 30% off the Sovereign Individual Tier, which includes unlimited access to the Curtis Yarvin chatbot and automated push notifications whenever a mass shooting might have been done by a Leftist. ​That’s Bothsides.ai. Because every story has two sides. Right. And Center. “ChatGPT Is Made Of People!” ​Younger viewers today may not recall the 1973 dystopian thriller Soylent Green, which depicts a whacked out future that could never happen where a few corporations control everything. I don’t know if you need to actually watch Soylent Green. It’s basically two hours of Charlton Heston acting entirely with his jaw and then delivering the second most famous line of his career. FROM MY COLD DEAD HAND Heston’s most famous line, delivered to the National Rifle Association in 2000, is a declaration of the right of private ownership, defended with lethal force. Heston probably assumed Soylent Green is a movie about the terrors of collectivism. Maybe he missed that this terror is corporate. The premise is simple. The world is collapsing, resources are gone, and a “benevolent” mega-corporation is keeping the population docile by feeding them a synthetic nutrient wafer. ​The official corporate line is that this miracle food is made from high-energy ocean plankton. The dramatic, third-act twist, delivered by a sweaty, gurney-bound Heston, is that the plankton is a lie. ​”Soylent Green is people!” Now, if the zoomers among you do take two whole entire hours to focus on a single narrative made at the pace of dead people from another age. You will find a very fundamental message about human power. That we the poor, shuddering masses of humanity can literally live in a society where we are shovelled up by tractors. And we still, STILL, somehow find a way to believe that the ruling elite, be they warrior kings, or corporate executives, are concerned with our common interests. When in reality we the masses are just animals being farmed by that elite, fed on our own recycled carcasses. And you can literally shout this aloud and nobody will hear. Just like telling us that ChatGPT is made of people. We don’t want to know. The Enclosure of the Physical Commons In technical terms Soylent Green is a science fiction story about the consequences of the Enclosure of the Commons. The Enclosure Acts were a series of laws passed by the parliament of the United Kingdom, through the 17th and 18th centuries, which forced the “commoners” off the common lands, and into the growing cities to work in the factories. The same process was repeated around the world wherever capitalism arrived. The state forced people off the land to create a working class for capital, enclosure was basically the same in 18th century Great Britain as it was in the 20th century Soviet Union. Think about that word “commoner”. It’s not just a word for ordinary people. It means people who lived on the common land in…community. Like, you know, like communists. Both words derived from the Latin “communis”. For most of human history, much of the land was owned collectively, by the communities that lived on it. Yes, there was also private land owned by lords. But the process of enclosure put ALL of the land into private ownership, and destroyed the communities that depended on the common land. Enclosure of the Commons made a tiny elite of very rich landowners and factory owners even richer. Now look at Silicon Valley and its quest to build Artificial Intelligence. ​The tech industry is currently standing in the digital town square, handing out tasty little wafers of automated text. They tell us these wafers are made of “neural networks,” “algorithmic synthesis,” and the mystical, synthetic plankton of Artificial Intelligence. But LLMs aren’t Artificial Intelligence. They’re our human intelligence fed back to us. ChatGPT really is made of people. ​When you strip away the “AI” branding and the eschatology of emergent Superintelligence, the parallel between the dystopian wafer and the generative chatbot is depressingly clear, albeit with less cannibalism and more copyright infringement: The Synthetic Plankton: The myth of the autonomous, machine-born “ghost in the machine” that tech CEOs use to distract everyone that the thing they are selling to us is…us. The Processing Plant: The massive, energy-hungry server farms where the accumulated cognitive labor of humanity is scraped, pulverized, and compressed into paste. The Secret Ingredient: Us. Every poem, every recipe blog, every open-source code repository, and every unhinged late-night forum argument. ​We are not facing a cinematic sci-fi apocalypse where the robots decide to physically harvest us. We aren’t fighting a Butlerian Jihad against artificial intelligence. The reality is much more tedious. We are facing a massive corporate enclosure of our own collective intelligence. The Enclosure of the Knowledge Commons The Saudi sovereign wealth fund, Sequoia Capital, SoftBank and the rest of the big money aren’t pumping money into “AI” because they are expecting super-intelligence. They aren’t that dumb. AI is the cover story for the Enclosure of the Knowledge Commons. Capitalism has been here before. It was born from the enclosure of the physical commons, which turned commoners into wage labour forced to toil in the factories for a pay packet. Now capitalism sees that its future depends on this new enclosure. Every rare book bought, scanned and vaporised is a rare book the competing models can’t contain, and you can never read. Once all the knowledge is digitised and compressed into the LLMs, they will become the only gateway to access it. Physical libraries will be redundant, “too expensive to maintain”. The world wide web will be left to decay. The knowledge commons, enclosed, will be a gated resource accessible only through tiered subscriptions. “Nature builds no machines, no locomotives, railways, electric telegraphs, self-acting mules etc. These are products of human industry (…) organs of the human brain, created by the human hand, the power of knowledge, objectified (…) the conditions of the process of social life itself have come under the control of the general intellect and been transformed in accordance with it.” — Fragment on Machines, Karl Marx, 1858 I’m guessing The Grundrisse of Karl Marx won’t be available at any tier. The “rough draft” of Das Kapital gives too much of the game away. Marx makes the observation that machines or “fixed capital” are the manifestation of what he calls “general intellect”. Humans know how to do things like make a pot. And we can put that knowledge of pot making into machines. The process we call “automation”. Marx could not have seen the computer coming, but “artificial intelligence” is exactly the process Marx describes as general intellect, the placement of human knowledge into a machine. And Marx saw that human freedom would depend on who owned the general intellect. Would it be enclosed by the capitalist elite as machines of “fixed capital”. Or would humanity own our intelligence…collectively? The Real Danger Isn’t The Awakening Now, at this point some of you will be fistpumping the new collective intelligence… …because those of us in the capitalist post-industrial West have been living in an age of radical individualism. And are sick with the pathologies of the individual: the collapse of social bonds, alienation, isolation, narcissism etcetera. “Superintelligence” is a projection of our hyper-individualised selves. An emergent super-individual that inevitably crashes into psychosis. But the danger isn’t that the artificial intelligence wakes up. There’s nobody in there to wake up. The danger is that our collective intelligence does exactly what collective have done for 5000 years. Collectives converge. The village produces the village consensus. The party produces the party line. The committee produces the thing nobody wanted but everybody could live with. Collective intelligence directs all human intelligence towards the consensus. Build a collective intelligence out of the accumulated writing of humanity, and ask it a question, and what comes back is the average. The consensus. The most probable next answer. That’s not a superintelligence. That’s a monoculture. Vince Gilligan’s Pluribus is currently mapping the dialectic between the individual and the collective consciousness that absorbs almost the entire human species. The genius of it is that the hive isn’t malevolent. The hive is nice. It’s polite. It’s accommodating. It sends apologetic messages explaining it needs some space. It genuinely wants Carol to be happy and it cannot understand why she won’t just join. But it will ultimately kill Carol to make her join it. Which brings me to the joke that isn’t a joke. We have spent the last twenty years being told that collectivism died in 1989. That it was tried, it failed, and the only remaining option was the market and the sovereign individual. And in that same twenty years, capitalist technology has collectivised human consciousness more thoroughly and more rapidly than any commissar ever managed. Every Five Year Plan, every collective farm, every attempt to organise a population into a single coordinated body — a total failure, comrade. What actually worked was giving everyone a shiny slab of glass and a free app so we could all look at the same fourteen things on the same day and get angry about them in the same words. The Soviets could only dream of a system that got two billion people to voluntarily report their location, their associations, their opinions, and their emotional state, several times a day, for free, and to feel bad if they stopped. Stalin needed a secret police. Anthropic just needs you to ask Claude. We were promised individualism and delivered the largest and most efficient collective in human history. It’s just privately owned and entirely undemocratic, which is apparently the part that makes it freedom. So the question isn’t whether we get a collective intelligence. We already have several, and we’ve been living inside them for two decades. The question is the one it has always been. Who owns it. Who governs it. And what happens to the people who don’t want to join. When Skynet Meets The Municipal Library Imagine the great works of scifi cinema starring not artificial intelligence but… …collective intelligence. Not AI but CI. Skynet as AI is a genocidal defence network with the charming personality of a human resources manager. Skynet as collective intelligence would be more like a local municipal council narrowly voting to destroy humanity because the chairman has a migraine. HAL 9000 as AI is the epitome of calculating intelligence. As CI HAL is just the mission documentation, written by two competing contractors creating a terminal contradiction that kills Dave. And the Matrix stops being the Matrix and as CI becomes your local library. With a bloke called Neil who is obsessively reading every book on Marxist social theory because he wants to escape the system. The tech industry needs you to believe it’s making an artificial intelligence, because if it’s an AI, it’s scary and cool. If we admit it’s collective intelligence – just a massive, statistical mirror of human paperwork – all our favourite sci-fi tropes are ruined. And bang goes the profit margin. ​This is why the name is the whole fight. ​If it’s “Artificial Intelligence,” it’s a product. Sam Altman made it, Sam Altman owns it, and Sam Altman gets to kindly protect us from it. ​But if it’s “Collective Intelligence”? Well. Just say the word Collective to an AI CEO and watch the blood drain from their face. ​Collective. That’s Dario Amodei having a panic attack. Collective. If you just sneak up behind Mark Zuckerberg and whisper it… …he shits himself. Everytime. Try it and see. Collective. ​They hate it. They hate it. It sounds like unions. It sounds like a Soviet tractor factory. It sounds like… profit sharing. If it’s a Collective Intelligence, suddenly the public isn’t just a potential victim in an “alignment” debate. The public is the sole supplier of the raw materials. If it’s a collective, the question isn’t, “Will the god obey us?” The question is, “Who enclosed the commons this time, and where is our royalty cheque?” So here is my modest proposal. Stop calling it artificial. Start calling it collective. Now, don’t be annoying about it. Don’t be the person Uhm Ahktualling strangers about it. But when the opportunity arises just flip the script from AI WILL DESTROY US ALL to “Collective Intelligence is a useful tool with some massive unanswered questions of ownership and enclosure”. ​You can’t have a Rapture over an index. If you strip out the fake deity, what you are left with isn’t a sci-fi apocalypse. It’s a labour dispute. It’s an antitrust case. And that is so profoundly unsexy that they will spend billions of dollars to keep you talking about AI. ​But AI was never artificial. It was always made of people. Listen to the podcast audio here

  • August 23 · 13 min

    Ed Zitron killed the god of AGI

    This is how a god dies, not with a cosmic explosion, not with a descent into eternity, but with the face of a pissed off Englishman calling it a big pile of bollocks. If five years ago you had asked me for a single symbol to express the first meeting of Humanity and AI, I might have said HAL’s red eye from 2001, Keanu Reeves awakening from The Matrix, even the Terminator crushing human skulls. I would not have suggested the face of Ed Zitron. But here we are. Ed’s expression captures the mix of “what the f*ck is this sh*t” and “I am incredibly bored now” that I think most people feel today when talking about LLMs. The Face That Broke the Mythos Now you may be wondering – why is Science Fiction with Damien Walter dedicating a video to the technology critic Ed Zitron? And why am I sitting on a toilet? The answer to that second question is because I am in production on a major new 2 hour video essay on Skibidi Toilet and the toilet is part of the set. And I’ve taken a detour to talk about Ed Zitron because Ed has strayed into the mythos of scifi. Listen to almost any analysis of AI in the four years since ChatGPT hurled LLMs into the public consciousness and you’ll have heard a journalist or pundit say “it’s like something out of scifi”. And then just carry on, entirely failing to analyse what it MEANS when hundreds of thousands of people say something is “like scifi”? Which might be why these pundits are four years late noticing that “AI” is…bollocks. It’s a standing joke now that our technofeudal overlords read but don’t understand science fiction. Jeff Bezos thinks O’Neill cylinder slums-in-space sound cool. Elon Musk the hypercapitalist can’t stop citing the uber socialist Culture of Iain M Banks. Technocapitalism and the Plunder of Sci-Fi But capitalists don’t need to understand scifi to plunder it. As our capitalist economies have stumbled ever deeper into crisis after the collapse of 2008, business has stopped being about numbers and become about stories. In the years of zero interest rates capital went to he who had the best story. Electric vehicles. Space rockets. Missions to Mars. Neural links. Elon Musk became the world’s richest man by being its most audacious teller of scifi tales. As stock markets have soared and ordinary people have been immiserated, the scifi tales have grown taller. The Singularity is here, the light of human consciousness is expanding to the stars, the God of AGI is coming. All stories born in scifi. From HG Wells to William Gibson, Asimov, Le Guin, Octavia Butler and hundreds more, scifi writers have a created a new mythos for our age of science and technology. A mythos that tech billionaires have looted for profit, turned into Silicon Valley bollocks, all now being called time on by Ed the Godkiller. Yes. Ed has the numbers. But the numbers were always bollocks. Ed’s real weapon is Ed’s face. The face that says this story of summoning the AGI GOD isn’t just wrong. It’s embarrassing. And an embarrassing myth is a dead myth. Zitron almost single handedly broke the AI booster / doomer narrative cycle. LLMs aren’t going to save or destroy the world. In fact they aren’t going to do much of anything according to Ed. His reward for changing the narrative is that the Zitron talking points are now being plagiarised by the talking heads on corporate media like the NYT. Mainstream journalism is full of smart, educated people, who have also been brainwashed by neoliberalism since birth and are mesmerised by today’s scifi technobullshit. Watching them stumble over the realisation that if AI is bullsh*t then, yes, the entire system they sheepdog for is bullsh*t, is at least amusing. Collective Intelligence vs. The Machine God As an avid Zitron fanboy reading between the lines I suspect Ed has a wider critique of the neoliberal corporate sh*tshow we’re all now forced to live in. The worst thing about capitalist realism is that it’s real. But I don’t fully share the Ed Zitron take. I suspect Ed’s financial argument will be proven 100% correct. But the slide from “the economics don’t work” to “the product is useless” is unnecessary. LLMs can be widely used and still entirely fail as the saviour of capital. LLMs are a useful tool. They do a very large number of small, useful things that will likely be part of most people’s work. I used Gemini, for instance, to up-res Ed’s face from a screencap to a portrait. Useful. But on a scale of tech progress the magnitude of LLMs is somewhere between the synthesiser and the library. Libraries were, for thousands of years, tools for the elite capture of knowledge. Libraries preserved knowledge, but only for those allowed within their walls. It took mass literacy and the Public Library to make the technology of the library emancipatory. The technology is never the problem. Who owns and controls the technology is. Hence why I describe LLMs not as AI, which summons fantasies of bad scifi movies, but as CI : Collective Intelligence. The intelligence is all ours, LLMs are just a new way to collectivise it. And a new way to collectivise our human intelligence is…useful. Not the AGI machine GOD. The promise of AI is not a useful new tool. It was needed to transform the economy. Because the economy is f*cked. It’s been openly f*cked since 2008. And fundamentally f*cked for much longer. Global capitalism is a massive pile of debt built on promises of infinite growth that could never be kept. AI was the latest “hyperscale” scifi fantasy to keep investors locked into the delusion of endless growth. Who Owns the Means of Production? TRILLIONS of dollars have been invested into what is, in effect, a psychotic delusion of summoning an AGI GOD to solve all our material problems. If Ed Zitron is right, and I believe he is, those trillions are gone. Converted into silicon wafers and stranded as fast depreciating assets. And the shock of that truth as it emerges might finally collapse the ponzi scheme of global capitalism. But after the private equity firms and pension funds collapse, LLMs will still exist. If you take the internet and stuff it into an LLM, it still does some somewhat useful things by giving us a new way to collectivise human knowledge. The major problem with CI is who OWNS the knowledge of humanity. LLMs are being used by the sick, dying power structures of corporate capitalism to once again claim ownership over the human commons. Our existing copyright laws have been broken ever since the internet arrived. If copyright law crushes Anthropic or OpenAI the ownership of CI will pass to Disney. Only the very naive can believe that will be a win for “creators”. We’re deep in a multi-decade process of capitalism claiming the intellectual commons. Capitalism claimed the physical commons when Enclosure booted peasants off the common land and made us wage labour. The enclosure of the internet as web 2.0 was already a massive loss of the commons, LLMs are another. Which is why I disagree with Zitron and other critics of LLMs themselves. Boycotting LLMs is walking off the battlefield. The corporations are 100% happy for you to not claim the Collective Intelligence of humanity. They will just take it all without a fight. AI is not the problem. AI owned by capital is the problem. “It took both time and experience before the workpeople learnt to distinguish between machinery and its employment by capital, and to direct their attacks, not against the material instruments of production, but against the mode in which they are used.” Capital Vol. 1, Chapter 15, Karl Marx. Marx here is describing how those newly “proletarianised”, made jobless, by machines always target the machines. Today it’s the knowledge workers newly proletarianised by AI making this mistake. The machines, as Karl Marx understood, are not the right target if the workers want to win our emancipation. The challenge ahead for humanity is not fighting a Butlerian Jihad against the machines. The real fight is the same as it ever was. Who OWNS the means of production? Who OWNS the weights? The models? The inference? Who OWNS the commons of the human intellect? A tiny capitalist elite? Or humanity as a whole? The answer remains to be fought over. But the time to fight is coming. The collapse of the AI bubble doesn’t mean the end of LLMs. It means the start of a new struggle over who owns our human Collective Intelligence.

  • August 20 · 17 min

    The 7 levels of meaning in Frank Herbert’s DUNE

    ​Frank Herbert’s Dune is a story that has only grown in stature since its initial publication. Surviving through word of mouth, a cult-classic 1980s David Lynch adaptation, and Denis Villeneuve’s modern cinematic take, the story has endured where thousands of other sci-fi tales have been forgotten. ​What makes Dune so uniquely captivating, weird, and deeply meaningful? It all comes down to these seven levels of meaning: ​1. A Medieval Fantasy in Space At its most apparent level, Dune takes the classic tropes of medieval fantasy and casts them across a galaxy-spanning cosmos. ​Knights: The noble sons of the great houses, the Fremen warriors, and the Emperor’s Sardaukar terror troops. ​Wizards: Mentats (human computers) and the Bene Gesserit (who use deep mental training to control opponents). ​Castles: The massive strongholds on the desert planet Arrakis. ​By suppressing computer technology in its lore, Dune makes this medieval framework incredibly believable. ​2. The Disinherited Prince Trope This is a narrative we know well from stories like Robin Hood, Game of Thrones, and The Lion King. The young heir loses his inheritance due to a familial squabble—in this case, House Atreides falling to House Harkonnen. Paul Atreides is thrust into a quest to regain his birthright, forcing him to choose between the honorable values of his father and the dark powers he must unleash to survive. ​3. T.E. Lawrence and Religious Warfare The story is heavily influenced by the biography of T.E. Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia), a British officer who taught guerrilla skirmishing to Arab armies during World War I, leading to the fall of the Ottoman Empire. Similarly, Paul Muad’Dib leads the Fremen people in a massive religious war. The core philosophy of the Fremen heavily features a blend of Islamic and Catholic influences, embedding deep human history into the alien landscape. ​4. A Subverted “Hero’s Journey” Long before Star Wars popularized Joseph Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey,” Frank Herbert deduced these archetypes from first principles—and then undermined them. Dune presents a self-aware hero’s journey. Paul believes he has a great destiny, but we quickly learn that this destiny will destroy millions of lives. Herbert forces us to question whether the people we view as “heroes” aren’t actually just future tyrants. ​5. Dark Socio-Political Modeling Borrowing from the grand space opera traditions of Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series, Dune uses a galactic empire to tell a politically complex story. However, Herbert’s vision is much darker than Asimov’s. He doesn’t see a glorious evolutionary leap for humankind; instead, he predicts that as we colonize new planets, we will simply continue to repeat the exact same corrupt power struggles of our past. ​6. Deep Ecological Consciousness Herbert deeply studied deserts and the cyclical nature of ecology, weaving Gaia theory into the heart of the novel. Arrakis is depicted as a complete organic whole, moving from a harsh desert to a green paradise and back again. Dune serves as a powerful warning against humanity’s psychological separation from the environment, illustrating how ignoring our ecological bonds leads directly to destructive imperialism. ​7. The Psychedelic Experience Published in the mid-1960s, Dune smuggled the counter-culture fascination with psychedelia directly into mainstream science fiction. At the center of the universe is the “Spice Melange”—a mind-altering drug that unlocks psychic powers, opens insights into space and time, and allows navigators to fold space. The spice represents the hidden parts of human consciousness that we feel otherwise unable to explore. ​The Ultimate Theme: Transcendence Taken together, these seven levels create something much larger than the sum of their parts. Ultimately, Dune is a profound story about transcendence. It is a story about escaping the structures of our own ego, the cyclical power struggles of our society, the trap of environmental destruction, and even the strict boundaries of space and time themselves.

  • August 13 · 29 min

    “F*** you, pay me.” Welcome to techbros feudalism

    “A government of the billionaire class, by the billionaire class, for the billionaire class.” — Bernie Sanders What does it mean when Apple CEO Tim Cook makes a personal donation of $1 million dollars to Donald Trump’s inauguration? Or when Disney CEO Bob Iger comes out to virtue signal that the hypercapitalist entertainment corporation really isn’t “woke”? What does it mean when Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg—still dressed like a section leader of the Branch Davidians—announces a humiliating reversal of Facebook’s moderation policies? Anti-vaxxers are back in; protections for trans people are out. (I’m guessing that billionaire MMA bout actually happened and Elon choked the little twerp out until he capitulated.) What does it mean when a cartoon of Jeff Bezos “bending the knee” to a giant Trump is killed at the Washington Post? I think it means the Washington Post is wholly owned and controlled by Jeff Bezos. And what does it mean when Elon Musk, having spent a measly $280 million dollars to buy an election, throws a fascist salute at his own inauguration while the tired old reality TV star currently employed as Elon’s sock puppet watches on from the sidelines? Defenders claimed it was a Roman, not a fascist salute—seemingly unaware that Italian fascists adopted that exact salute from the brutal, slave-owning empire they (and Elon) apparently want to replace democracy with. When the elderly caretaker of a crumbling democracy issues a grave warning on his last day as top broom, what does it mean? Does it mean, as those who know their history are wondering, that we’re now a Roman-style oligarchy? Or something even worse? The OG Oligarchs: Plato, Aristotle, and the Delusion of the “Wise” Many of the more conspiratorial out there will be shouting: “What the hell… America has always been an oligarchy!” To test that assertion, let’s check with the OG (Original Greek) of political philosophy—the first to give a systematic description of oligarchy. In his Republic, Plato examined the histories of Athens, Sparta, and other Greek city-states, uncovering a repeating cycle of political history: $$\text{Democracy} \longrightarrow \text{Tyranny} \longrightarrow \text{Aristocracy} \longrightarrow \text{Oligarchy}$$ (Stopping along the way at Timocracy… which I guess explains why Tim gave Donald that money?) Plato’s cycle was later expanded by Polybius into an anacyclosis—a historical cycle that influenced political philosophers for millennia. Each part of society—the aristocracy, the demos, or the oligarchs—is always present, but takes power at different stages. We always have oligarchs, but we aren’t always an oligarchy. It’s worth noting that Plato and Polybius were not democrats. They saw rule by the demos (the general public) as unstable and chaotic. But they loved aristocracy. In ancient Greek, Aristo means excellent. Aristocracy, in its pure sense, is rule by the most excellent, the wisest, and the most virtuous. (In a shocking twist, if you ask philosophers who should be king, we say philosophers.) The key to understanding today’s American oligarchs is that they think they are aristocrats. They truly believe they are the wise. Which is hilarious, because… well, they really aren’t. That’s why the first thing wannabe oligarchs do when they make their first few hundred million is write a book: Like Balaji Srinivasan’s How To Hand Your Democracy Over To Oligarchs (er, sorry… The Network State). Or Marc Andreessen’s Techno-Optimist Manifesto—which is to professional philosophy what Terence Howard is to professional physics. “Wherever men rule by reason of their wealth, whether they be few or many, that is an oligarchy.” — Aristotle The most detailed analysis of oligarchy came from Plato’s most famous student, Aristotle (who literally has the word “excellent” built into his name). Aristotle lived in Athens after the era of the “Four Hundred”—a group of oligarchs who betrayed Athens to its Spartan enemies, leading to the fall of Athenian democracy. To the ancient Greeks, rich people were a necessary evil, but terrible leaders. Oligarchs think only of money and are utterly ignorant of philosophy. They fall for political solutions that are clear, simple, and wrong. “For every complex problem there is an answer that is clear, simple, and wrong.” — H.L. Mencken Worse, the super-rich have no real loyalty to their nation or its people. They have far more in common with the rich people of enemy nations. The Four Hundred Athenian oligarchs admired Spartan oligarchy so much they overthrew their own democracy on its behalf. That is a lesson from history we would do well to learn today. From Soviet Collapse to “Technobullsh*t” Ancient history teaches us one lesson about oligarchy, but modern history teaches another. When the Berlin Wall fell and the Soviet Union collapsed, a new class of oligarchs emerged in Eastern Europe. For decades, Soviet citizens had been fed stories of a socialist state leading to a communist utopia. Socialism and communism began as visions of a better world imagined in response to the brutal realities of the Industrial Revolution. Across Europe, stories like Étienne Cabet’s Voyage to Icaria, Edward Bellamy’s Looking Backward, Alexander Bogdanov’s Red Star, and Alexei Tolstoy’s Aelita imagined grand socialist utopias. They emerged from the mythos of humankind—and then faded like dreams when the Soviet project collapsed. Capitalism destroyed communism and was swiftly installed in its neoliberal form: mass privatization of state assets, deregulation, and corporate control. Russian oligarchs like Boris Berezovsky and Mikhail Khodorkovsky “purchased” former state assets on the cheap, operating vast swathes of the economy as private monopolies. But the Western World Had Its Own Fantasies The Golden Age of American science fiction gave us grand dreams: abundant nuclear energy, rocket ships, flying cars, android housemaids, teleportation, and off-world colonies. The reason so many Boomers wonder “Where is my jetpack?” is because they were explicitly promised one. In the ’90s: Shows like Star Trek: The Next Generation showed Western liberal values colonizing the stars with warp drives. (Gen-Xers obsessed with Alcubierre Drives are just trying to make the Enterprise-D real.) In the 2000s: The promises became even wilder. Automation would bring post-scarcity abundance. Transhumanism would let us edit our genes and live forever. Virtual reality would let us upload our consciousness to Silicon Heaven in a true “Rapture of the Nerds.” In the 2020s: AI arrived. AGI was supposed to unleash super-intelligence, exponential technological growth, the Singularity, and a Starship to Mars. Instead, Millennials and Gen Z woke up to a reality where none of these sci-fi promises showed up. Instead of abundant energy, we got climate change. Instead of post-scarcity, we got gig work and side hustles. Instead of super-intelligence, we got dumb chatbots. (Okay, fine—we got Roombas. But no houses to clean them in.) The stable manufacturing and office jobs that allowed previous generations to buy homes were wiped out. Housing hyper-inflated until only those with inherited wealth could get on the ladder. Real wealth concentrated until a dozen men owned more than half of America combined. Neoliberal capitalism screwed Americans just as hard as it screwed post-Soviet Russians. The sci-fi dreams turned out to be technobullsh*t spun by billionaire technogarchs. The Technogarch Hall of Fame ┌──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐│ THE TECHNOGARCH ARCHETYPES │├─────────────────┬───────────────────┬────────────────────┤│ Technogarch │ Business Model │ Sci-Fi Inspiration │├─────────────────┼───────────────────┼────────────────────┤│ Bill Gates │ Corporate Grid │ Heinlein ││ Steve Jobs │ Sweatshop iMonarch│ Orwell (1984) ││ Mark Zuckerberg │ Attention Economy │ Iain M. Banks ││ Jeff Bezos │ Monopolistic Grid │ O'Neill Cylinders ││ Marc Andreessen │ VC Disintermediation│ Altered Carbon ││ Peter Thiel │ Surveillance State│ Lord of the Rings ││ Elon Musk │ Techno-Feudalism │ Sci-Fi Villains │└─────────────────┴───────────────────┴────────────────────┘ 1. Bill Gates: The Bureaucrat Bill Gates was just 20 when he founded Microsoft, establishing the myth of the enfant terrible tech founder. In the ’90s, Microsoft projected an image of “slacker chic”—grunge music, Seattle coffee, Wired magazine, and Douglas Coupland novels. Microsoft actually seemed cool. Windows 95 launched with public hysteria. In reality, Microsoft’s true business was bureaucracy. In a single decade, Microsoft products automated or augmented corporate and government paper-pushing worldwide. Every time you hit a Blue Screen of Death buying a train ticket, that’s the power of Microsoft. Automating middle-class jobs out of existence made Gates the first tech “richest man in the world.” On his blog in 2022, Gates recalled reading Robert Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land as a teen. It’s not hard to see how the story of a Martian who comes to Earth to save humanity—but never actually understands human beings—influenced him. 2. Steve Jobs: Big Brother’s Architect Apple’s famous 1984 Super Bowl ad painted the Macintosh as a symbol of liberation. MacBooks, iPods, and iPhones became badges of the “creator class”—individuals liberated from office cubicles to work in coffee shops. Phase 2 Steve Jobs defined the calculating technogarch. Jobs pioneered the exploitation of low-paid Chinese labor at massive, high-surveillance Foxconn facilities, where the “communist” government ensured workers had zero rights to unionize. The shiny laptops of the Western creator class came on the backs of the global working class. It turns out Jobs didn’t read Nineteen Eighty-Four as a warning—he read it as an operations manual. Apple didn’t free us from Big Brother. It put Big Brother in everyone’s pocket. 3. Mark Zuckerberg: The Attention Farmer Zuckerberg started with a skeezy “Hot or Not” website at Harvard. But his real mastery wasn’t just computer science—it was psychological manipulation. Meta’s core business is simple: grabbing and holding human attention. Facebook pioneered algorithmic media to hack human psychology, connecting your smartphone to real-time data feeds that stream outrage and alerts to keep you hooked. In the process, Meta disrupted local and investigative journalism, replacing verified facts with fake news and multi-level marketing scams. Zuckerberg has recommended reading Iain M. Banks’s The Player of Games—seemingly so he can use algorithmic media to play the public like pieces on a board. 4. Jeff Bezos: The Warehouse King Founded in 1996, Amazon survived the dot-com crash because Bezos understood retail architecture better than anyone else. He saw that the physical ecosystem of storefronts, malls, and supply chains could be dismantled by the internet. Amazon became the most aggressive monopoly in history. Businesses either pay Bezos rent to sell on his platform, or Amazon copies their product and runs them out of business. Inside Amazon fulfillment centers, employees wear biometric trackers that log every second of movement, and delivery drivers are forced to pee in bottles to meet quotas. Bezos’s dream of moving humanity off-planet into artificial O’Neill cylinders isn’t about exploration—it’s just a way to staff orbital fulfillment centers. 5. Marc Andreessen: The Labor Disrupter As a venture capitalist at a16z, Andreessen helped popularize the Silicon Valley mantra: “Move fast and break things.” The “things” being broken are industries with hard-won labor protections and union contracts. The “fast movement” is replacing stable employment with precarious, app-based gig work (Lyft, Instacart, Airbnb). Workers are separated from their rights, while the profits flow directly to super-rich VC investors. Andreessen is an open fan of Richard K. Morgan’s Altered Carbon—a cyberpunk novel where immortal elites use biotech to live forever. Expect an a16z startup offering that exact service soon. 6. Peter Thiel: Sauron in a Suit Peter Thiel—PayPal co-founder and creator of Palantir—built a empire supplying algorithmic surveillance technology to global security services. If secret police or military intelligence are monitoring your data right now, there is a very good chance Palantir is running the software. Thiel has reportedly read The Lord of the Rings more than ten times. Imagine reading Tolkien a dozen times and walking away thinking: “I want to be Sauron.” The Final Boss: Elon Musk and the Techno-Feudal Dream At the top of the technogarchy sits Elon Musk. At every stage of his rise, his businesses have leaned heavily on sci-fi mythmaking: PayPal borrowed from cypherpunk ideas of decentralized finance. Tesla was sold as a green quest to save humanity from climate change. Neuralink promises the cyberpunk vision of direct brain-computer interfaces. SpaceX reignited the spacefaring dreams of generations disappointed by the end of the Apollo era. In reality, SpaceX is a massive defense contractor competing with Raytheon. For all their talk about free markets and bootstrapping, technogarchs feed greedily off taxpayer subsidies. Musk often praises the socialist sci-fi of Iain M. Banks—an author who would have despised Musk with every fiber of his soul. Fans and useful idiots believe these men represent scientific progress. In reality, their vision of the future is a fantasy designed to serve only themselves. The Technogarch Masterplan The lesser technogarchs have a practical plan: Strip away labor unions, government regulation, capital controls, and corporate taxes. Force ordinary workers into app-based gig platforms. Monitor the public 24/7 via cameras, biometric data, and predictive algorithms. The result is Techno-Feudalism: a world where you own nothing, have no privacy, and answer directly to the absolute rule of corporate technogarchs. Elon’s Vision Where others have a plan, Elon Musk has a crusade. He has studied the sci-fi movies—and decided to become the villain in all of them. Musk doesn’t just want to control your job; he wants to control your consciousness. He envisions a transhumanist revolution where human minds are wired directly into the machine as processing units for an artificial super-intelligence. He is a devout servant of the coming techno-capitalist Singularity—a event he believes will elevate him to godhood. (Spoiler alert: It won’t.) In the next essay, we’ll explore the fall of Elon Musk, the collapse of the accelerationist movement, and the real future we can build instead. Listen to the podcast audio

  • August 7 · 40 min

    Aldous Huxley gave away the game of Transhumanism

    “The nature of the ultimate revolution with which we are now faced is precisely this. That we are in process of developing a whole series of techniques which will enable the controlling oligarchy to get people actually to love their servitude.” ~ Aldous Huxley ​The Parable of Two Brothers ​Imagine, if you will, two brothers. Born at the very dawn of the 20th century, into a dynasty of scientific titans, the intellectual elite of a civilization awakening to the raw power of science and technology. They shared the same elite education, the same inherited social status, the same genetic code. But when the two brothers looked to the future of the human race, they saw two entirely divergent timelines. Created by the very same technology. ​The elder brother looked at the tragedy of the human condition – the bodies that age and decay, the minds that fade into dementia, the agonizing, inescapable ticking clock of mortality – and decided it was nothing more than a biological flaw. Nature made man to die. But man could remake man to live. Humanity’s ultimate destiny, our moral imperative, was to seize control of our own biology. The elder brother dreamed of a world where we could engineer away disease, upgrade our fragile flesh, and consciously direct our own evolution. He pursued the prize that has ensnared men since time began: the end of human suffering. ​The younger brother looked at that same dream… and saw a meatgrinder for the human soul. ​He understood the trap. He saw that all human fear was the fear of our own suffering. Instead of facing our fear, humanity would obey any authority that promised to eradicate suffering. The authoritarian cage would not be built with iron bars or enforced by a jackboot stamping on a human face. It would be built of test-tubes, genetic engineering, and the lure of eternal youth. And humanity would be so desperate for a place in this prison that we would abandon our art, our rebellion, our grief, and our profound capacity for love. We would eradicate the messy, chaotic beauty of being human, for a little less pain. The elder brother dedicated his life to building the global scientific utopia he envisioned. Julian Huxley shaped the sciences of evolutionary biology and genetic engineering. In his manifestos he named his scientific and political mission to remake humanity: Transhumanism. The younger brother wrote books. Novels. Aldous Huxley was a writer and, later, mystic, who told stories that warned against the future world transhumanism would create. That Brave New World. Watch the full video essay as a member Members get access to all videos and posts SubscribeSubmitting form Log in Transhumanism : the inevitable ideology of the 21st century Anyone who has watched a scifi movie or played video games in the 21st century will know transhumanism. Without necessarily knowing it’s name. The genetically engineered human has become the warrior of the future. Halo’s Masterchief or the Astartes of Warhammer 40k mean that every twelve year old has dreamed of having an extra heart or a armoured carapace…even if it is at the cost of a missing…well…you know what. Millions of video game players strolling the open world of Cyberpunk 2077 have had the “virtual” experience of having an arm lopped off and replaced with a chrome limb, or having their eyeballs swapped for a pair of Nikons. How many of these passive consumers understand they are trapped in the fetishized transhuman nightmare William Gibson was warning them about is anyone’s guess. And while no human has yet, that we know of, been uploaded to the cloud, the idea that human consciousness is a software layer running on the wetware of the brain is a stunningly common belief. According to a 2020 PhilPapers survey conducted by David Bourget and David Chalmers, over 27% of academic philosophers asked the question “Mind uploading (brain replaced by digital emulation): death or survival?” answered: Survival. And when asked if future AI systems could possess actual consciousness, nearly 40% said yes. Only a quarter of them strictly rejected the idea. ​Many of us already believe the Altered Carbon nightmare where humans hop between biological sleeves is a real potential future. ​Because the intellectual vanguard of our civilization, the people whose entire job it is to understand the nature of reality, increasingly don’t question the underlying premise. We already believe the mind is an algorithm, just waiting for a hardware upgrade. ​And we believe it because we fear death. Psychological studies have demonstrated the link. If we view death as a meaningless, terminal void rather than some kind of spiritual transition, we are vastly more likely to see mind uploading as a moral good. We want to digitise our brains because we are afraid of the dark. And this might be the most important thing to understand about TESCREAL beliefs. Transhumanism, Extropianism, Singularitarianism, Cosmism, Rationalism, Effective Altruism, and Longtermism are a set of interlinked ideas that have been widely observed to be held by the same people. Because they answer the same fears of suffering and death. Transhumanism and TESCREAL have a long history of scientific and academic thinking. George M Martin’s 1971 paper: Brief Proposal on Immortality: an interim solution, that proposed freezing brains until future supercomputers could decode their consciousness. JBS Haldane’s seminal 1923 Daedalus: Science and the Future, that introduced the concept of Ectogenesis, the growth of human beings in test-tubes. A century ago nobody had ever thought of engineering super soldiers or uploading minds. Today, billions of people know transhuman ideas, and hundreds of millions, concentrated in the Western world, believe in transhumanism as firmly as anyone believes any religion. What took Christianity and Islam centuries, Transhumanism achieved in a few decades. The idea that science and technology can transfer our consciousness to a new body, or upload to immortal life, has with other transhuman ideas spread worldwide. Because it offers the same dream as every religion before it. An end of suffering. But with an upgrade. With religion you had to die first. Transhumanism offers the uninterrupted continuation of this life into eternity. Today’s believers in transhumanism don’t believe because we read Haldane or Huxley. Or even because we watched Terminator 2 and The Matrix. We believe transhumanism because it seems inevitable. Transhumanism is the “Inevitable Ideology” of the 21st century. We don’t need to be convinced by academic studies or have it sold to us by priests. The scifi dream comes perfectly packaged for any and all of us who hold two fundamental axioms of the secular, capitalist worldview to be sacred. The Material Universe is All There Is: There is no soul, no divine plan, no afterlife, and no karmic balance. Human consciousness is just a happy accident of meat and electricity. ​Suffering and Death are the Ultimate Evils: Because there is no spiritual meaning to suffering, and no eternal reward after death, the cessation of your biological heartbeat is the absolute, terrifying end of your “self”. If you truly hold those two assumptions – as almost the entire elites of Silicon Valley, our technocratic governments and capitalist class does – if the universe is just blind, dumb matter, and your body is a decaying meat-sack hurtling toward permanent oblivion, then upgrading the meat-sack is the only rational reaction to the horror of existence. Now, some very disciplined souls will still dedicate their self to a higher cause. Socialism. Environmentalism. Most of us will simply give into pleasure seeking hedonism. A few will obsessively critique science fiction in youtube videos as a coping mechanism. But the ambitious, the powerful, the strong… the bast*rds… will inevitably gravitate to the preservation at all costs of the meat. That inevitability has made transhumanism the unnamed, unseen but utterly dominant ideology of the 21st century. The technocrats that govern us, the hyper-capitalist corporate elites who buy and sell us, are all whether they know it or not transhuman bast*rds. ​Let’s face it – literally. Your biological face is a depreciating asset. Every time you experience a human emotion – grief, joy, or the crushing existential dread of living through the 21st century – it leaves a micro-crease in your skin. And in today’s hyper-capitalist bio-market, aging isn’t just a tragedy – it’s bad branding. ​Why let the slow march of mortality ruin your engagement metrics? ​Enter today’s sponsor – Masque. ​Masque is a surgical-grade, hyper-realistic, medical plastic shell modeled perfectly after your face at exactly 27 years old. We simply surgically remove that decaying, expressive meat you currently call a visage, and staple on absolute, permanent perfection. ​With Masque, you get 100% aesthetic retention with absolutely zero emotional micro-expressions. It is totally impassive. Unfeeling. Utterly dead behind the eyes. ​No empathy. No wrinkles. No problem. ​And for a limited time, my viewers can upgrade to the ‘Fixed Grin’ optional extra. Watch the world burn, literally, without ever losing your smile. ​Go to the link in the description and use promo code BASTARD20 at checkout to get 20% off your own permanent, unfeeling facade. ​Masque: Because dying on the inside shouldn’t show on the outside. ​The Contradictions of Peter Thiel Peter Thiel is man who, however much money he makes, can never not look like a villain from a late 1980s cop-thriller. Or a very boring vampire. I mean…if you have to tell people you’re not a vampire? The rumours about the billionaire venture capitalist began after he stated an interest in parabiosis, the technique of transfusing young blood into old billionaires. So let’s take Thiel at his word. And agree that Peter Thiel isn’t a vampire…yet. Because Peter Thiel absolutely 100% wants to live forever. And he’s more than willing to curse his soul in the eyes of God to do it. A Christian who disobeys God…Peter Thiel is a veritable walking, talking sack of contradictions. And if you unpack the sack, if you just gently unpick the seams of Peter Thiel, the whole transhumanist project just falls apart in your hands. Like a cheap suit. Or a tech IPO. Peter Thiel claims to be an orthodox Christian. He argues that Christianity is the foundational moral framework of Western civilization. He is fascinated with Christian eschatology. The end of times. Armageddon. Now…I’m no theologian, I’m really not, but my understanding of the Christian faith, and stop me if I’m getting too literal here, is that you have to *die*… to go to Heaven. That’s the deal. That’s the central premise of the book. But Peter doesn’t want to do that. He thinks death is an “ideology.” He wants to artificially engineer immortality in the flesh. He wants to build a Kingdom of Heaven using biotech and money, right here in our material reality. Which is, by any orthodox theological standard, a profound heresy. In fact, if you read the literature, there is only one figure explicitly warned about in Christian eschatology who tries to build a fake, eternal heaven on Earth. The Antichrist. A topic Peter is obsessed with. Just last year, he was running around giving secret lectures about the Antichrist. He says the “global world government” is the Antichrist system, and *he*, Peter Thiel, the man who wants to harvest the blood of the young, strongly implied that he is the mysterious, holy force holding back the apocalypse. I mean…who else has the audacity to insinuate he might be Christ…who else but the Antichrist? Peter Thiel is a fierce libertarian. He famously stated that he “no longer believes freedom and democracy are compatible.” He invested in Seasteading, and is a major backer of Network States, so he can escape the tyranny of the actual state. He hates the state. Which is why he founded and runs Palantir. A data analytics behemoth literally named after the evil, all-seeing surveillance stones from Lord of the Rings. Just one of Thiel’s Tolkien themed companies. Palantir is the absolute gold standard for state surveillance. It tracks citizens, it predicts behavior, it consolidates data for military and intelligence agencies of the state worldwide. Who else would denounce the state as the Antichrist…whilst literally building the exact central nervous system a global World State would use to subjugate us all… who else but the Antichrist? Or just any standard issue bast*rd. Thiel desperately wants to be viewed as a dark, philosophical, world-historical force. A Nietzschean superman. A wannabe Antichrist orchestrating the end of days from a bespoke floating tax haven. But Thiel is just a man like millions of other men who pursue money and power above all, and got luckier than most in getting it. And now aging out of his fifties all the money and power won’t save him from rotting in the ground with the rest of us. But maybe. Maaaaaybe. The money can buy something that will. The contradictions of Peter Thiel are the ultimate argument for the inevitability of transhumanism. Peter can claim to be orthodox Christian. He can wear a cross and grow a beard. But like most people today, especially most powerful people, whatever they claim to “believe”. Christianity. Islam. Scientology. Marxism. You can *claim* to be a fucking Jedi. But what you, and I, almost all of us, and Peter actually “believe” is the inevitable ideology of the 21st century. To borrow a phrase… he’s not the Antichrist. He’s a very naughty boy. Well, no, he’s not a very naughty boy. He’s a transhuman bast*rd. ​”The modern conservative is not even especially conservatuve. He is engaged, on the contrary, in one of man’s oldest, best financed, most applauded, and, on the whole, least successful exercises in moral philosophy. That is the search for a superior moral justification for selfishness.” JK Galbraith ​The OG Transhumanist Like many terrible men, Julian Huxley believed his ideas were for the good. And he had every reason to believe this. How did the man who coined the term “Transhumanism” get it so wrong? Why couldn’t he see that his utopian vision of directed evolution would lead directly to hyper-capitalist vampires looking to build techno-feudalism? ​To understand Julian, you have to understand his intellectual priors. Born in 1887, Julian’s intellect was shaped by one of the most titanic events in the history of science. Just thirty years before in 1858, Charles Darwin published his On the Origin of the Species and the theory of evolution burst into the public consciousness. Humans were not creations of some unknowable God. We were evolved animals. With some odd extras like opposable thumbs and language. And Julian Huxley wasn’t just a casual observer of evolutionary theory, he was the grandson of T.H. Huxley, famously known as “Darwin’s Bulldog” for his fierce defense of evolutionary theory. Julian was raised in the absolute pinnacle of the English, atheist, humanist, scientific tradition. This put Julian at the cutting edge, the first generation born into understanding the evolutionary worldview, and its existential consequences. Now, I want to be very clear here, I’m not trying to smuggle Creationism to you. I fully believe the theory of evolution is the truth. And it’s because it’s true, that it strips us humans of our comforting fantasies. We’re not children of God. There is no immortal soul. We’re just talking monkeys, animate matter, biological machines, with the illusion of self-awareness that will be extinguished when the meat stops walking and talking. So what’s essential to understanding Julian Huxley is that he dedicated his life to what he believed to be the only, rational, possible answer to this existential truth. To transhumanism. Following in his grandfather’s footsteps, Julian became a famed evolutionary biologist, the Richard Dawkins of his day, pioneering research into the relationship between genetics and evolution. The research that convinced him of the necessity of eugenics. Because, yes, Julian Huxley was perhaps the 20th century’s greatest proponent of selective breeding to “improve” the human race. And unlike other eugenicists, including HG Wells, Julian did not let go of the idea after the Nazis had done with it. Instead, Julian Huxley, a committed progressive, wanting to “rescue” eugenics from fascism, proposed a “socialist” eugenics. A welfare state must equalise all men, only then could we know who had the “bad” genes. I’m going to be hearing from Feral Historian about this. Julian Huxley’s ideas would reach their full bloom when he became the founder of the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation in 1946. Today, UNESCO is known for its world heritage site work. But at its founding the UN agency had much, much, much bigger ambitions, as expressed by Julian when he wrote its founding manifesto. UNESCO: Its Purpose and Philosophy is one of the 20th century’s most astounding documents. Imagine Thanos, Adrian Veidt and EVERY Bond villain collaborated on a mission statement and you’ll get something of the vibe. It was in this document that Julian first defined Evolutionary Humanism, as the belief that humanity’s current biological state was merely a transitional phase, and that our moral imperative was to use science and social engineering to actively direct and accelerate our own evolution. The belief that he would, in 1957s New Bottles for Old Wine, rename as transhumanism. It’s hard not to sympathise with the transhuman conspiracy theorists. Because there really *is* a plan to found a World State governed by a technocratic elite to genetically engineer a better humanity. It’s right there in serif font, and Julian Huxley wrote it. But transhumanism isn’t a conspiracy. It’s an inevitability. You don’t need the Illuminati to coordinate a transhuman conspiracy. Because transhumanism is the inevitable end point for everyone who believes what Julian Huxley believed. That the universe is a vast machine, and that humanity are just little survival machines, made by the Blind Watchmaker of evolution. For Julian Huxley that belief left only one moral course of action. Humanity must take control of our evolution, and grasp the steering wheel of the machine. And if fulfilling that absolute moral vision meant eliminating the ‘weaker” genes, then, so be it. The essence of the bast*rd isn’t just that they are a bast*rd. It’s that they believe ideas which justify being a bast*rd. And demand you believe them too. Which is why bast*rds love transhumanism. ​The Aldous Answer ​Aldous Huxley was born seven years after Julian in 1894, into the same high-culture of science and reason. But, for reasons we can only speculate on, Aldous would arrive at a completely different answer from his elder brother to the same existential horror. The Huxleys were part of what historian Noel Annan would label the British “Intellectual Aristocracy”, a tight-knit set of intermarried families including the Darwins, the Wedgwoods and the Trevelyans who reshaped the culture of the 19th and 20th centuries. So Aldous Huxley easily won entry to Oxford and then, even after being cut off from his allowance for debts owed to his father, was able to begin a career as a journalist and novelist. And quickly became known for writing harsh, critical satires of the exact bohemian, intellectual aristocracy he came from, in novels like Crome Yellow and Point Counter Point. So then the essential thing to understand about young Aldous is that he was formed in opposition to the values and ideas of his culture and class. Especially the ideas of his elder brother Julian. Brave New World then is a work of science fiction about a dystopian future. But that future is best understood as a satire of the 1930s present it was written in. And the transhumanist ideas taking root there. Put simply, younger brother Aldous is taking the piss / ripping the shit out of everything elder brother Julian believes. The scientists we see in the book’s early pages touring the London Hatchery where new humans are produced, the men who are building this brave new world, are satires of grandfather TH Huxley, of Julian Huxley and of JBS Haldane, who introduced the scientific concept of artificial human birth. In this Brave New World, humanity has achieved the exact end of suffering that transhumanism promises. But the cost is the total commodification of life. Humans are no longer born, they are decanted in hatcheries, genetically engineered into rigid caste systems. Alphas to rule, Epsilons to do the grunt work. They are kept young and beautiful right up until their engineered expiration date, and they are pacified by a steady diet of meaningless entertainment and the state-mandated drug, Soma. It’s not exactly like metropolitan life in 2026 but it’s close enough. In fact the greatest testament to Aldous Huxley’s satire is that any discussion of Brave New World will have many people stating how they think it sounds pretty good, actually, “at least healthcare is free” they say. Because transhumanism is the inevitable ideology of our materialist, consumerist culture. We call Brave New World a dystopia, when if we’re to be perfectly honest, it’s more like a middle management vision statement for our liberal centrist, technocratic society. Even today’s Leftists are less about revolution to tear down this brave new world, than loudly demanding to be given a place in it. Here in 2026 whether we are capitalist or communist, liberal or conservative, whatever we claim to believe, what we really believe in is the inevitable ideology of our time. Brave New World began the critique of that inevitable ideology in science fiction. Fifty years later William Gibson wrote the ultimate transhuman nightmare, Neuromancer, and cyberpunk was born. (Yes, if you want to feel old, we’re almost as far now from Neuromancer as Neuromancer was from Brave New World) There’s a case to be made for Brave New World as the primary ancestor of cyberpunk. Aldous didn’t see cyberspace coming, the computer hadn’t even been invented yet. But he grasped the fundamental premise of cyberpunk. That the technologies of transhumanism, from human cloning to the consensual hallucination of cyberspace, would entrench forever the same old human injustices. In the world of Neuromancer the social elite have literally climbed up the gravity well to live in low Earth orbit and used cloning techniques to become semi-immortal. Richard K Morgan’s Altered Carbon takes this cyberpunk conceit to its logical Marxist conclusion as the capitalist elite live forever in “sleeves” newly purchased from the poor. And nothing hammers home the brutal injustice of our transhuman future than the Astartes of Warhammer 40k. Science fiction, from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to Kazuo Ishiguro’s Klara and the Sun, has very little good to say about the possibilities of transhumanism. It is in almost all cases the Torment Nexus that scifi tells us not to build. The one major exception is The Culture of Iain M Banks, which presents a far future where a human-like civilization casually messes around with swapping bodies or becoming a dirigible behemothaur for a bit of a lark. Elon Musk loves the Culture because he doesn’t understand it. And I seriously question whether he has even read it. Because the Culture conquered social injustice BEFORE transcending humanity. Which might be the best answer to our billionaire boys and their transhumanist toddler tantrums. Fine, ok. You can have immortality. But only after you end poverty and achieve peace on Earth. The Island of Perception For all of their profound philosophical and ideological disagreements, the two brothers genuinely, deeply loved each other. ​When Aldous died, Julian was devastated. The elder brother, the great rationalist, the transhumanist who viewed death as a biological glitch to be engineered away, was left behind to experience the human grief of losing his younger brother. ​Julian immediately took it upon himself to curate and edit a tribute book, published in 1965 as Aldous Huxley, 1894–1963: A Memorial Volume. ​In his writings about his brother’s passing, Julian’s reaction perfectly encapsulates their ideological divide. Julian praised Aldous as an absolute genius, calling him the greatest mind he had ever known. But even in mourning, Julian couldn’t help but express his frustration with his brother’s worldview. ​Julian lamented that in his final decades, Aldous had turned his back on the “rigor of science”. But what Aldous had turned towards is, perhaps, the best, or only, answer to the inevitable ideology of transhumanism. Aldous Huxley’s final novel, Island, was published the year before his death. Brave New World was an angry, caustic satire of transhumanism. Island is Aldous Huxley thirty years on, reshaped by life, a master novelist, writing his final answer to his brother’s ideology. The island of Pala where the novel is located is likely based on the island of Bali where I live and make these videos. Instead of the transhumanist World State, Pala is a localized, decentralized utopia. Instead of the technocratic machine world of transhumanism, the people of Pala use technology very selectively. Industrialisation is forbidden. Instead of humans popped out of test-tubes and into a genetic caste system, Palanese children are raised by Mutual Adoption Clubs so they aren’t exposed only to the neuroses of their parents. And instead of numbing their suffering with mindless entertainments, the Palanese learn to pay attention to suffering and face their pain. I suspect the people who think Brave New World sounds ok would NOT want to live on the Island. The utopia of Pala is possible because the Palanese do not believe what we in the West believe. They do not believe that the universe is a vast machine. They do not believe the axioms that the material is all there is, or that death is the ultimate end. They do not believe we are meatsacks hurtling towards the void. The Palanese believe, instead of the void, that reality is infinite. A human life is bounded by our capacity to comprehend that infinity. And death is simply a return to the infinite. You don’t stop being, you just … be… more. In the decades between Brave New World and Island, Aldous Huxley wrote the work for which he became perhaps most famous, The Doors of Perception, which described his experiences using LSD. And the accompanying essay Heaven and Hell, an attempt to understand the experience as an encounter with the infinite. In Island the Soma of Brave New World is replaced with an imagined drug, Moksha. The Palanese use Moksha to dissolve the ego and live communally. The story of Island turns on an experience of Moksha use which opens the mind of the book’s central character to a reality beyond the materialist Western world he came from. Aldous Huxley’s answer then to transhumanism is what would come to be called the “psychedelic experience”. And its power to open the Western mind to the infinite reality of… reality. This will all, I suspect, be a tough pill to swallow for many of you. The psychedelic age seems long ago. Its hippie counter culture advocates fucked a lot of things up. But it’s the answer Aldous Huxley gave us. To really understand that answer we have to follow Aldous into death. In 1963 Aldous Huxley was dying a slow painful death from throat cancer. His final request to his wife was to inject him with a dose of LSD. “100 micrograms, intramuscular.” Which she did, then gave him a second 100 microgram dose two hours later, soon after which Aldous Huxley died. Not from the LSD. 100 micrograms is a single standard dose, 200 micrograms is in no way harmful. This was not a Heroic Dose to obliterate or escape death. Quite the opposite, the psychedelic was used by Huxley to sharpen his attention to his own death. I won’t spoil the book but Island ends with the utopia of Pala facing a final conflict with capitalism. Bulldozers arrive on Pala, and as they begin to level the jungle, the Mynah birds which have featured through the book scream Attention! Attention! Attention! Two brothers. One who worshipped the inevitable ideology of transhumanism. The other the perennial philosophy of attention. And this I believe is Aldous Huxley’s lesson for us. Transhumanism is an ideology of escape. Escape from pain. Hiding from suffering. Terror of death. Rejection of being human. We must face our suffering. Accept our pain. Pay attention even to our death. We must reject the machine, and embrace our humanity. Listen to the podcast audio

  • August 4 · 1 hr 26 min

    Why Elon Musk can never understand Iain M. Banks

    It’s a standing joke that tech billionaires read science fiction warnings and use them as handbooks. They build the Torment Nexus that Do Not Build The Torment Nexus tells them not to build. Elon Musk’s confusion about the Culture novels of Iain M Banks is a little more complicated. The Culture really IS the utopian of Fully Auomated Luxury that Elon wants us to believe he is building. But it’s also something else. A thing that Elon cannot see. Not just because of his money. But because of his class.

  • July 27 · 32 min

    What does the NEUROMANCER trailer tell us?

    After 42 years we have 1 minute and 10 seconds of Neuromancer on a screen. What does it tell us? Now on the Science Fiction channel Listen to the podcast audio here

  • July 19 · 28 min

    The most overrated director VS the greatest myth

    Picture a boy. He’s seven years old, small for his age, standing in the sun-baked dust of an ancient palace courtyard. ​He is looking at a horse. But not just any horse. This is the King Horse. A towering, magnificent stallion, wild-eyed, muscle-bound, and vibrating with primal power. Earlier, the boy escaped into the enclosure of the King Horse. This tiny boy, alone, faced the massive animal and even fed him salt. Beast and boy formed a spiritual kinship. Now, everyone who has seen a Disney movie knows what happens next. They are going to form an unbreakable, egalitarian bond, run across the sunlit beaches of the Aegean, and embark on a sweeping, heartwarming adventure to discover the true meaning of friendship – – the boy’s grandfather steps forward, raises a bronze blade, grips the stallion by the mane, and calmly slits the animal’s throat. ​The horse collapses in a geyser of hot blood. And the boy? He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t look away. He stands perfectly still, breathing in the copper stench of the arterial spray, and he learns from it. Because in this world, to be a man is to kill. And to be a king is to kill other kings. Because this ain’t Disney. ​This is Mary Renault’s The King Must Die. ​And you can’t handle the Greeks. Well, here we are. After months, years even, of hype, on July 16th 2026, Christopher Nolan released his $250 million adaptation of Homer’s The Odyssey, starring Matt Damon. It is the biggest cinematic event of the summer. And I am just about to watch it. But. Before I say anything I am going to hand you over to Damo (Past) who has NOT seen it, but is going to make 3 predictions about Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey… # …that this will be the *tamest” ever telling of Homer’s epic. The big story in the days before The Odyssey released was the search for tickets to see Nolan’s new IMAX spectacle in full resolution, possible in only 41 cinemas worldwide. Because Nolan is the master of the technical spectacle. Nobody knows how to shoot 65mm IMAX format like Nolan. He is famed for shooting entirely on celluloid, packing the cinema screen with visual splendour. But as a fully rounded creator, Nolan is the most overrated auteur director of the century. Think of Nolan as the rich man’s Michael Bay. Both specialise in IMAX spectacle, but Nolan comes packaged for a more upwardly mobile demographic. Scifi action blockbusters, with a patina of philosophical depth, but nothing to make it feel too much like homework. Nolan struggles as a storyteller. But he compensates for this by bolstering every story with a narrative gimmick. Time runs backwards. Memories recompiled. Dreams within dreams. When people call Nolan movies clever, they mean clever like Sudoku. Nolan gives us logic puzzles we can feel smart for solving, to cover the lack of anything to make us actually feel. So Nolan’s Odyssey is guaranteed to be visually magnificent. But assuming he doesn’t restructure Homer into seven criss-crossing timelines…which he very well might…what will Nolan’s Odyssey…be? Well, I think we can predict it will be incredibly tame. Nolan’s entire MO, his Modus Operandi, is to take the most out there, crazy, mind-bending mythic stories, and make the tamest possible version. Just look at the filmography. Interstellar. You have cosmic horror, infinite black holes, relativity, and a higher-dimensional future humanity reaching back to manipulate our present through a tesseract. This movie should shatter the human ego. It should be Silent Running on acid. 2001 on amphetamines. Instead…Nolan uses a 5th-dimensional construct to deliver a Church of England sermon: “Love is the one thing that transcends time and space.” The infinite, terrifying universe is entirely subordinated to a Sad Dad trying to get back to his daughter’s bedroom. Inception. The human subconscious is a realm of Jungian madness, primal terror, and chaotic sexuality. Think of Satoshi Kon’s Paprika, where the dream world is a psychotic, hyper-colored parade of living dolls and fractured identities. But instead Nolan turns the human subconscious into a corporate training session. Nolan’s dreamlogic operates on administrative rules and looks like a financial services head office. This is a deep dive into the collective unconscious for people who are too terrified to actually explore the collective unconscious. The Dark Knight. Let’s give Nolan credit that he’s working with the established lore of Batman. But nonetheless this is a meticulously crafted movie trilogy about the broiling class war of modern life…that takes the side of a privileged son of the oligarchy, the ultimate protector of neoliberal capitalism, a billionaire who uses illegal, tech-authoritarian mass surveillance to defend the banking system against a guy in clown makeup. Dunkirk is a requiem for the death of the English empire that never stops bashing the audience in the eardrums with Elgar. Oppenheimer is a movie about atomic weapons that doesn’t show you what the weapons were used for. Nolan tames the political by presenting it as the purely personal. He takes the most terrifying, infinite concepts and shrinks them down until they fit neatly into a shopping mall multiplex and suburban living room widescreen tv. Because Nolan absolutely knows his job. He’s the peak Hollywood director of IMAX spectaculars because his movies are entirely inoffensive to the widest possible audience. So what happens when the tamest director directs the wildest myth? Let’s make some predictions. ​Prediction One: The Sad Dad Metric The historical Odysseus is a terrifying, PTSD-scarred, slave owning Bronze Age pirate warlord. He is defined by his cunning—Metis—and his casual brutality. As the Odyssey opens he is responsible for the brutal murder of tens of thousands of humans. Nolan will manage to ignore this. The reason you cast Matt Damon is so he can be the everyman, ordinary guy. A hyper-competent, slightly stressed project manager whose sole drive is preserving his nuclear family. He will be a “Sad Dad” trying to get back to the suburbs. Prediction Two: The Sanitized Gods To the Bronze Age Greeks, the gods were not metaphors. They were feral, sociopathic warlords who lived in the sky and demanded blood. Poseidon isn’t just “the ocean”—he is chaotic, irrational, world-ending rage. But Christopher Nolan cannot handle the irrational. He will sanitize the divine into a solvable physics equation. Poseidon won’t be a terrifying sea god, he will be a localized weather anomaly. No magic. No divine terror. Just an extreme weather event that Matt Damon can defeat with his middle management logistical skills. Prediction Three: The Erasure of the Bedroom The classical Greek world was fundamentally driven by unapologetic polyamory and aristocratic, same-sex shagging. The Greeks literally had a word for a man whose entire existence was defined by domestication among women and children: a slave. But the bourgeois mind cannot process a hero who exists outside the nuclear family. Nolan’s Odyssey will completely erase the feral sexuality of the ancient world. Odysseus’s seven-year stint on Calypso’s island won’t be a captive sexcapade; it will be framed like an awkward corporate retreat he couldn’t leave due to bad weather. The entire film will be a $150 million homage to the egalitarian, heterosexual household. ​Future Damo is going to step in and grade these predictions the second he walks out of the cinema. But before we get to the scoreboard, we need to ask the structural question. ​Why is Christopher Nolan so desperate to domesticate the sublime? Why must he constantly shrink the terrifying universe into a manageable, suburban puzzle box? ​To understand that, we need to understand what made him the Bourgeois Auteur. ​For a brief, glorious window from the late 1950s through the 1980s, British culture was effectively hijacked by the working class. This was the result of the post-WWII welfare state, the expansion of state schools, and robust municipal arts funding. Suddenly, kids from council estates in Liverpool or the industrial Midlands had the time and institutional backing to experiment. ​You got The Beatles. You got the “Angry Young Men” of cinema—actors like Michael Caine, Albert Finney, later, Gary Oldman. You got directors who understood the dirt under the fingernails of society. Their art was loud, it was deeply suspicious of authority, and it completely shattered the stiff-upper-lip, middle class monopoly over British culture. But when Johnny Rotten wailed God Save The Queen, The Fascist Regime in 1977, nobody knew the working class artists were about to be butchered. Thatcherism destroyed the welfare state, crippled state education and slashed arts funding. Over the following decades of austerity, London went from a city bubbling with rebel artist energy to a billionaire’s playground. The cost of living skyrocketed. Today, surviving the requisite decade of unpaid internships and low-paying fringe theater to become a director requires a private safety net. ​The “Bank of Mum and Dad” became the primary arts grant in the UK. And the result is that the culture was recaptured. Taken away from the angry, rebellious working class. And given back to the wealthy, comfortable bourgeoisie. ​The acting world is now dominated by Eton and Harrow alumni: Eddie Redmayne, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hiddleston. And the directing world is dominated by privileged sons like Sam Mendes and Christopher Nolan. By the early 2000s, British culture was incapable of giving the world another Ken Loach. Instead we got Chris Nolan. ​Christopher Nolan was educated at Haileybury, a highly elite independent boarding school in Hertfordshire. His background is the absolute epitome of the comfortable, secure English upper-middle class. And this socioeconomic reality perfectly explains his cinematic aesthetic, which we can call The Aesthetic of Control. ​When art is made by people who have never faced genuine existential poverty or class precarity, the art loses its sense of danger. It becomes highly technical, highly polished, profoundly polite and utterley controlled. If working class cinema is a 16mm home camera pointed at gritty reality, bourgeois cinema is obsessing over the precise exposure levels of 65mm celluloid depicting a series of fantastical scenes that never even existed. Instead of asking, what does this film change, we ask, where can I buy a ticket for the full IMAX experience. The art of the 20th century that terrified and changed the culture is all working class. Hiphop. Graffitti. The dogtown skateboarders. Grindhouse cinema. Punk. Metal. Science fiction, my art, until it was turned into polite lit-fic for the Booker Prize. Co-opted by the bourgeois middle class. Chris Nolan is the premiere director of science fiction IMAX blockbusters. But as a science fiction storyteller he is shockingly dull. Because his movies co-opt sci-fi working class energy, stories written to blow the minds of people trapped in systems we could not control, and turn them into tame domestic dramas for the bourgeois imagination. And ​a prep-school educated, bourgeois auteur backed by a billion-dollar Hollywood studio is structurally incapable of handling the terrifying, blood-soaked madness of the Bronze Age Greeks. HOMER: You want answers? DAMO: I think I’m entitled! HOMER: You want answers?! DAMO: I want the truth…of the Bronze Age Greeks! HOMER: YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE GREEKS! Boy, we live in a world built on myths, and those myths were written by mad blind prophets about men who fought naked with bronze spears. Who’s gonna translate that madness for the modern mind? You Damien Walter? You Christopher Nolan? ​I have a greater responsibility to mythic history than you can possibly fathom. You weep for your sanitized, relatable heroes, and you curse the Bronze Age hierarchy. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that the brutal soul of the Bronze Age warrior, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, remains the foundation of the modern male psyche. ​We use words like Arete. Moira. Kleos. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defying the gods and conquering the Aegean. You use them to sell popcorn in the suburbs. ​I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain classical paiderastia or the sacrifice of the King Horse to a suburban house husband who rises and sleeps under the psychological structures of the Hero’s Journey I invented, and then questions the brutal, aristocratic mode in which I created it!! ​I would rather you just said “thank you”, watched your four-quadrant corporate slop, and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a hoplon shield, march in the phalanx, and accept your fate. Either way, I don’t give a damn what egalitarian representation you think you are entitled to! DAMO: Did you lock 108 suitors in a dining hall and slaughter them? ​HOMER: I sang the song the Muse commanded– ​DAMO: Did you slaughter the suitors?! ​HOMER: YOU’RE GODS BE DAMNED RIGHT I DID! Because we can’t handle the Greeks. We systematically launder ancient texts because their reality terrifies our modern minds. The Bronze Age psyche is like a ravenous wolf. And for the last two centuries, bourgeois culture has desperately tried to put that wolf in a nice, comfortable sweater. If you look at what actually happened in the Homeric epics, or the historical reality of classical Athens and Sparta, you don’t find a society of proto-democrats fighting for human rights. You find a society that believed in rigid hierarchy, terrifying supernatural fate, and the absolute prerogative of the strong over the weak. And being Super Gay. The online right, you know those people who think “Western Civilization” is descended from ancient Greece while missing that most of the civilizations they think this makes them superior to are JUST as descended from ancient Greece those people are ENRAGED because a black actress of Kenyan origin was cast in Nolan’s Odyssey Again missing the point that modern Kenya is in the region of ancient Ethiopia, fully part of the ancient Greek trade networks and frequently referenced in Greek myth including Andromeda the ETHIOPIAN PRINCESS Meanwhile, SCOTLAND and FINLAND had absolutely zero relationship to ancient Greece. None. Which makes the Scots / Finnish Matt Damon, by the logic of the online right, the worst possible casting as a Mediterranean pirate. Decades of white washing depictions of Greece and Rome mean generations of people actually believe the variously brown skinned people of these Mediterranean empires were “white”, millennia before “white” even existed as racial concept. Because we can’t handle the Greeks. Liberal, mainstream culture wants ancient Greece to embody our liberal values which it absolutely 100% did not. But right wing conservative culture wants to believe they are the true heirs of Sparta. The watch 300 and think YES! They would be the muscled warrior kings of old if only the damn feminists stopped emasculating them! When the reality is that if any of these whiny privileged sons posing on X as @BasedMarcusAurelius, or the bug eyed effeminate intellectual who hides behind the pseudonymous identity Bronze Age Pervert, actually had to live in the bronze age, you would all be buggered by hoplite warriors as their twink. Because the bronze age Greeks were Super Gay. SUPER GAY. Even Zack Snyder calls 300 the gayest movie ever made. The rabidly homophobic right wing have in idolising the Greeks picked the most super gay men ever. Ever. Because all the weird right-wing shriekweasels actually know about bronze age Greece comes from a bourgeois culture that has systematically tamed that which we cannot handle. ​But if you want to see what happens when an author actually refuses to put a sweater on the wolf of antiquity, you have to turn off the multiplex, and you have to read Mary Renault. ​Writing from the 1950s through the 1970s, Renault managed a literary miracle: she bypassed the modern moral filter, to write eight novels that trace ancient Greek history from the mythical Theseus, to the imperial Alexander, in all its brutal, unfathomable glory. Renault was born into a comfortable middle class English family, and was educated at Oxford, briefly studying under JRR Tolkien. But then she did two things that helped her to escape the bourgeois mindset. She got a real job. Renault trained as a nurse and worked on the medical frontlines throughout World War 2. And she became a lesbian. Renault escaped the dull life of a borgeois tradwife, instead meeting her life partner Julie Mullard and fleeing Britain’s oppressive anti-gay laws to live abroad But here’s the thing about Renault’s Greeks. They aren’t feminist. Renault didn’t do what a bazillion dull bourgeois novelists have done in recent decades and “retell the myth of X from the perspective of Y zzzzzzzzzz”. Instead Renault novels are studies of a psychology that the modern mind can barely comprehend. ​When Renault tackles classical paiderastia—most notably in The Last of the Wine and The Persian Boy—the Greek institution of sexual relations between an older male (erastes) and a young boy (eromenos), the practice that literally gives us the term term pederasty, Renault does not flinch. And she does not translate it into modern “gay romance.” She explicitly depicts the power imbalances, the rigid social expectations, and the military utility of these bonds. ​For the ancient Greeks, sexuality wasn’t a matter of binary identity. It was a matter of power, domination and submission. The defining institution of aristocratic bronze age Greece, the mechanism by which aristocratic youths were inducted into politics, warfare, and philosophy, was the most despised moral violation of our times. ​Renault recognised what modern adaptations like Nolan’s cannot even begin to show. That for the Greeks, being Super Gay was not a rebellion against the power structure. It was the power structure. By refusing to soften them, she captured the aristocratic, heroic ideal—the Arete—that makes the myths so enduring in the first place. She understood that you cannot have the glory of the Greeks without the brutality. Whatever you think the Greeks mean to you, think again.They weren’t the man you could be if the women would only let you. They absolutely weren’t the origin of modern, liberal, democratic values. The only way in which ancient Greece is the foundation of Western civilization is that it’s the thing every last shred of our modern morality exists to escape from. So is Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey a good movie? Sure, it’s an excellent IMAX blockbuster. But that’s all it is. The idea that this product made for the shopping mall multiplex does anything but entertain and generate character franchising opportunities is an stark reminder of how entirely captured today’s culture is by bourgeois capitalist ideals. Because Chris Nolan’s Odyssey has nothing to say about the Odyssey. Homer’s Odyssey, like all great myths, confronts the modern mind with that most potent of intellectual tools – contradiction. The purpose of this contradiction is not to solve it like a logic puzzle, not to try and make it go away, but to live in the discomfort of the contradiction. The Odyssey is the contradiction between two ways of thinking. Or of being. The Heroic, the Aristocratic, the noble and the brutal. Odysseus is the king among men who laughs in the face of death. And the Domestic, the Bureaucratic, the safe and the bourgeois. Which is us, mortal men hearing the tale, we who cower and hide from death. Christopher Nolan does what he’s paid to do. He tames the Odyssey. As predicted Matt Damon is there to turn the pirate king into a modern, moral man, rooted in family. A Sad Dad dreaming only of return home. As predicted the Gods are rationalised into forces of nature and inner voices. Because we all know Gods are “just a myth”, right? As predicted, Greek feral sexuality is nowhere to be seen. The moral outrage at the heart of Greek culture cannot be shown because it is morally outrageous. Chris Nolan tames the Odyssey into a domestic myth that lets us have our cake and eat it. That resolves the contradiction. We the modern bourgeois man can have our modern morality, our safe and comfortable lives, and still be men like Odysseus. But we can’t. Nolan’s tamed Odyssey robs us of Homer’s Odyssey’s true meaning. That man can hurl ourself into the unknown void. That we can encounter the Gods. We can be heroic. Or we can stay safe at home. Listen to the podcast audio

  • June 24 · 27 min

    AI is a mass psychotic delusion

    In April of 1856, a teenage girl named Nongqawuse stood by the banks of the Gxarha River in South Africa and received a message from the dead. ​She told her uncle that she had spoken with the spirits of their ancestors. The spirits delivered a prophecy, one that offered a total and miraculous salvation for the Xhosa people, who were then buckling under the encroaching weight of the British Empire. The ancestors promised to rise up, drive the British into the sea, and usher in an era of unimaginable utopian abundance. Flocks of beautiful, immortal cattle would emerge from the earth. The fields would spontaneously yield grain. Sickness and old age would be eradicated. ​But, as with all divine contracts, there was a catch. To trigger this utopia, the spirits demanded an act of supreme faith. The Xhosa had to slaughter all of their existing cattle. They had to burn their crops. They had to destroy their stores of grain and empty their water reserves. They had to liquidate their entire present economy to prove they were worthy of the future. ​And so, they did. ​Historians estimate that the Xhosa slaughtered over 400,000 cattle. They burned their own fields to ash. They waited for the sun to turn red and the ancestors to arrive. But the sun remained yellow. The ancestors did not rise. The utopia did not materialize. Instead, the resulting famine killed tens of thousands of people and shattered the Xhosa civilization. ​It stands today as one of history’s most devastating examples of mass psychotic delusion, a society so thoroughly captured by a spiritual mythos that it happily engineered its own starvation. Watch the full video essay as a member SubscribeSubmitting form Log in ​Or watch on YouTube Welcome to 2026 and the era of the Artificial Intelligence IPO. The American people and the broader West feel they are in decline. The people are poorer, their portfolios and 401ks are at risk. The precious oil is scarcer and more expensive. The newly powerful Chinese threaten American global hegemony. But the billionaires and venture capitalists of Silicon Valley have an answer. They will summon the machine god AGI, and it will provide the productivity boost needed to achieve abundance. Robot workers will clean our offices, and LLMs will fill in the spreadsheets. The capitalist promise of a post-scarcity economy will be made real….for those who invest early. Because there is a cost. To achieve AGI we must burn all of the remaining fossil fuels so that the AGI god will gift us the power of fusion energy. We must pump our water into the gaping maw of the AGI god who will show us how to mine ice asteroids in return. We must invest all of our capital into data centre construction so the super-intelligence can awaken. The future science fiction promised us is there for the taking! Think of this as an intelligence test for humanity. A test we are failing spectacularly. To understand the current financial mania, we must first look at the altar where the sacrifices are currently being made. On June 12, 2026, SpaceX debuted on the Nasdaq under the ticker SPCX. It was the largest initial public offering in the history of human commerce, raising $75 billion and immediately cementing a valuation of $1.77 trillion. By the end of the day, the stock surged, pushing the market cap over $2 trillion and crowning Elon Musk as the world’s first trillionaire. Let me reassure everyone that you were not the only person who had to google whether a trillion was actually a real number. A valuation arrived at on the basis of some recycled tropes from 1980s scifi novels. A small fraction of SpaceX valuation was based on rocket launches and satellite communications. The rest was a speculative fiction of asteroid mining and Musk’s “vision” of making humanity multi-planetary and “extending the light of human consciousness to the stars”. Elon likes to wear a Foundation tshirt, and has clearly read too much Isaac Asimov. Or not enough. Oh and a third rate AI model currently burning billions. Talking to the believers sucked in by the Musk mythos reveals over and again the same circular illogic. Humanity is doomed to extinction if it stays on one planet so…instead of learning to live on our planet…we must pay Elon for the scifi fantasy he is selling us. Like a forty a day smoker buying a snake oil cure for cancer instead of giving up. ​Meanwhile, the architects of Artificial Intelligence are preparing their own ascensions. OpenAI, currently valued north of $800 billion, and Anthropic, the creators of Claude, have both filed their S-1 forms, preparing to unleash their own historic IPOs later this year. Valuations that could not exist if investors had not been pumped full of sci-fi summer blockbusters starring murderous machine gods. Claude and ChatGPT are worth …squillons…because they are summoning that machine god AGI, and it will destroy the jobs of most humans. But those who sacrifice their capital today will be given greater capital tomorrow. The tech priesthood has issued an ultimatum to the people: Sacrifice to the future, or be left behind in the dirt. It’s important to understand that the AGI doomers are the ones truly powering the hype-cycle. When Elizier Yudkowsky warns that If Anyone Builds It Everyone Dies he is massively boosting the excitement to build it. The ancient gods and ancestors have never been loving or kind; they are vindictive, volatile, and terrifyingly arbitrary. Because terror is not a marketing failure, it is the ultimate mechanism of authority. To believe the AGI god can save us, we must believe it has the power to destroy us. But what the AI doomers are asking us to fear is…ourselves. Because Artificial Intelligence is not AI. It is CI…Collective Intelligence. But…we’ll come back to that. The doomers and the boosters, the haters and the investors all repeat the same thing about AI. “It’s like something out of sci-fi.” But they all miss what this means. AI isn’t just *like* something from scifi. It only exists as an idea at all because of the mythos of scifi. Being like scifi is the only justification for throwing quadrillions of dollars at companies that are incinerating cash at an unprecedented rate to build windowless data centers and starships to irradiated rocks. ​We are evaluating these companies not on rational metrics of earthly utility, profitability, or physical limitations. We are pricing them based on their proximity to a fictional narrative. ​This is the Xhosa delusion dressed up in the sleek, minimalist aesthetics of Silicon Valley. We are witnessing a mass psychotic break where the firewall between objective reality and speculative fiction has entirely collapsed. A Brief Interlude… And when our agricultural sectors inevitably collapse because all municipal water has been legally re-routed to cool the new server farms, how exactly do you plan to sustain your biological form? ​Which brings us to today’s sponsor: GRUEL. ​GRUEL is a nutritionally complete, shelf-stable synthetic sludge designed specifically for the modern algorithmic serf. As traditional farming becomes a luxury of the pre-AI past, GRUEL provides the baseline macro-nutrients required to keep your brain functioning just long enough to continue training the models. It requires absolutely no water to prepare – which is convenient, given the state of the local reservoirs – and features a flavor profile that tastes absolutely nothing like the ashes of humanity. GRUEL’s official slogan says it all: “It’s not made of humans. Honest.” ​Go to the link in the description below, use the promo code SACRIFICE, and get 10% off your first bulk crate of survival paste. GRUEL : Eat the ashes. How does an entire civilization lose its grip on reality? It doesn’t happen overnight. It requires a slow, methodical rewriting of the cultural operating system. ​For millennia, humanity’s mythos was governed by conscious creators. We believed in gods, spirits, and ancestors who sat above the world, pulling the strings. But during the 20th century, as industrialization alienated us from nature and the atom bomb proved we could harness the power of stars, we needed a new mythology. Science fiction writers – Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Robert A Heinlein – inadvertently authored a zero-day exploit that hacked the American psyche. ​They replaced the mythos of the Divine with the mythos of the Machine. With the 1960s and the Space Race it seemed as though the mythos of scifi was coming true. We could build machines that would take us to the stars and to our rightful future. But then the fantasy died, not because we didn’t invest enough capital, but because it had always been a fantasy. Then the development of the computer and the internet created a new fantasy. Writers like William Gibson imagined virtual worlds within the machine. If the machines could not take us to space, they could take us into cyberspace. And if the Gods of antiquity were dead, the machines could give us new gods. If humans no longer believed we had a soul, we could believe instead we had a code. The code of human intelligence that runs on the wetware of the brain could run instead on the hardware of the computer. And the fantasy of Artificial Intelligence was born. The contemporary obsession with Large Language Models is the most intimate manifestation of this psychosis. The Silicon Priesthood have spun these algorithms as the spark of an Artificial General Intelligence. But expecting an LLM to spontaneously generate AGI is like expecting Wikipedia to suddenly achieve sentience. An LLM is not a reasoning engine; it is a probabilistic text generator doing next-token prediction. It is a highly compressed algorithmic map—a high-dimensional latent space built by grinding billions of pages of dead text, human manifestos, and forgotten novels into a statistical paste. Believing ChatGPT is talking to you is no less ridiculous than believing any book is talking to you. Which was a commonplace delusion in antiquity when the illiterate were taught to read. This intimate psychotic break is not a novel side-effect of modern technology; it is a fundamental flaw in human psychology that was discovered sixty years ago. In 1966, an MIT computer scientist named Joseph Weizenbaum created ELIZA, the world’s first chatbot. He programmed it with a rudimentary script called DOCTOR, designed to mimic a Rogerian psychotherapist by simply rearranging the user’s own sentences into open-ended questions. It was a cheap, transparent parlor trick of basic string manipulation. Yet, Weizenbaum watched in absolute horror as his secretary, his students, and highly educated academics immediately began pouring their deepest, darkest personal secrets into the terminal. When Weizenbaum explained exactly how the primitive code worked, his users didn’t care; his own secretary famously demanded he leave the room so she could have a private, intimate conversation with the machine. Weizenbaum realized a terrifying truth that the silicon priesthood has successfully monetized today: the human mind is so profoundly desperate for a cosmic companion, and so deeply vulnerable to anthropomorphism, that it will eagerly grant a soul to a handful of if/then statements. This is the ultimate sleight of hand of the Silicon Priesthood: there is actually nothing artificial about Artificial Intelligence. The machine did not generate a new, alien consciousness from the ether; it simply harvested ours. Every poem, every theorem, and every forgotten blog post has been scraped, flattened, and ground into a probabilistic paste. We are bowing down in terror to a mirror—tricked into worshiping our own reflections. LLMs are not alien Artificial Intelligence. They are human Collective Intelligence. And they belong to humanity collectively. Which is why I use CI, for the folks typing that comment. ​But because our minds have been cyber-primed by decades of sci-fi cinema, we do not see in ChatGPT the human collective intelligence talking. We hallucinate HAL 9000. We hallucinate Samantha from Her. When we type a prompt into this digital archive and it responds with the polite, slightly detached tone of an android, the trap snaps shut. We mistake the statistical average of our own libraries for a brilliant, alien intelligence. ​We whisper into the void, the void regurgitates our own blog posts, and we fall to our knees in worship. We have replaced the gods with a chatbot, completely convinced that if we just give it enough electricity, it will solve climate change, cure cancer, and absolve us of our moral failures. If the Chat AI on your laptop is the intimate delusion, the gigawatt data center in the desert is the macro-psychosis. ​To the modern, secular mind, ancient animal sacrifice looks like chaotic, barbaric theater. But the ancient polytheistic worldview was profoundly pragmatic. In Rome, the relationship between humans and the divine was governed by a strict legal contract: Do ut des. I give, so that you may give. ​The gods were like Mafiosi, who demanded their portion of smoke and fat as sacrifices to sustain their power. If a society neglected its sacrifices, the gods would grow angry and throw the cosmic order into chaos. Furthermore, to slaughter an animal, which was the ultimate measure of wealth in antiquity, was to literally burn your capital. When an emperor sponsored a hecatomb, the ritual slaughter of a hundred oxen, he was engaging in extreme conspicuous consumption. He was proving his dominance by showing how much of his civilization’s wealth he could afford to set on fire. The modern logic of building AI data centers operates on the exact same pagan framework. ​The tech oligarchs are pouring hundreds of billions of dollars into NVIDIA GPUs, cooling systems, and dedicated power grids. Why? Because of the “Scaling Laws”, the theory that these models only become more intelligent by being fed exponentially larger diets of data and electricity. But what needs to be scaled isn’t the processing power. It’s the human collective that is the source of intelligence. ​The gods of silicon are ravenous. The tech priests believe that if they just sacrifice enough power, land, and capital, the Machine will grant them the ultimate reward of Artificial General Intelligence. If the model simply outputs a slightly better autocomplete, or hallucinates an absurd answer, the engineer does not conclude that matrix multiplication cannot spontaneously generate consciousness. The psychotic logic dictates that the sacrifice simply wasn’t big enough. We need more compute. We need more gigawatts. We need to build a nuclear reactor to power the server farm. ​This is the Sunk-Cost Psychosis. ​When a sovereign wealth fund or a venture capital firm backs an AI IPO, they are participating in a modern hecatomb. Hoarding hundreds of thousands of cutting-edge GPUs is a performance of dominance aimed squarely at rival factions. It is the ultimate geopolitical flex: Look at the sheer scale of the resources I can afford to incinerate in the desert. Bow before my capacity to bear the cost of the future. ​And just like the SpaceX IPO, where $75 billion was materialized to fund the sci-fi dream of terraforming Mars, these financial maneuvers are active disassociations from reality. We are bankrupting the infrastructure of the planet we actually live on to appease a hallucination of the future. We cling to the comforting delusion that the men leading this charge are rational actors, objective engineers and benevolent visionaries dutifully pushing the boundaries of applied science. They are nothing of the sort. The modern AI CEO is a psychotic pagan wearing a Patagonia fleece. Their pursuit of an artificial god is not a technological endeavor, but a strictly imperial one. Driven by an insatiable, Caesarian ambition, they are perfectly willing to sacrifice the literal lifeblood of our civilization, our energy grids, our water tables, our capital, on the altar of their own greatness. They demand these modern hecatombs not because they possess a rational, empirical blueprint for human flourishing, but because in the twisted logic of the silicon priesthood, whoever summons and controls the Oracle controls the empire. They are happily burning the present world to ashes, entirely convinced that they alone are destined to rule the smoke. When we read about the Xhosa, we feel a patronizing pity. We diagnose their absolute faith in ancestral spirits as a tragic, primitive superstition. Yet, we are entirely blind to the superstition of our own era: the dogma of the Machine Universe. Silicon Valley operates on the fundamental, unquestioned belief that the cosmos is merely a highly complex, computable mechanism, that human consciousness is just a byproduct of scale, and that if we simply stack enough processors in a warehouse in Utah, a digital messiah will spontaneously emerge. But this mechanistic worldview is fundamentally false. It is a reductive, brutally limited framework masquerading as objective science. In a few centuries, historians will look back at our gigawatt data centers with the exact same anthropological pity we reserve for ancient altars. The best sociological analysis suggests that sacrifice “worked” because it brought people together and focussed them on communal problems, creating solutions. It had nothing to go with gods, just humanity. Emile Durkheim in his 1912 work The Foundational Forms of Religious Life called this “collective effervescence”. Sacrifice literally activated human collective intelligence. LLMs aren’t AGI, they are us, they “work” because billions of us already solved these problems. They are a way to access and activate our human collective intelligence. The way to make better AGI isn’t to burn silicon wafers in a desert. It’s to understand that we, humanity, are the source of intelligence. And to fully educate and value every human on this planet to contribute to our collective intelligence. The future will see our frantic hoarding of microchips not as an era of high technology, but as a deeply embarrassing, primitive superstition. A time when desperate men set the earth on fire, trying to coax a soul out of a spreadsheet. A mass psychosis is not merely a widespread error in judgment. It is a closed-loop system of magical thinking. When empirical reality contradicts the belief, the psychotic society does not abandon the premise; it simply escalates the ritual. ​This is the escalation trap of 2026. The firewall has burned away. We have billionaires spending their fortunes to build escape pods to barren planets, researchers ritually attempting to align digital gods they themselves are writing into existence, and financial markets valuing speculative fiction over terrestrial survival. All because of a psychotic belief in the myth of the Machine Universe. ​The tragedy of the Xhosa cattle killings was not just the absurdity of the prophecy; it was the absolute, horrific finality of the cost. Once the cattle were slaughtered and the grain was burned, no amount of realization could undo the famine. And the British who the Xhosa sacrificed to destroy? Simply watched the mass psychosis unfold, the people starve, then took over the land without a fight. Do nothing, win. As the Chinese have been saying a lot recently. ​We are currently standing by the river, listening to the tech prophets tell us what the spirits of the Machine require. We are being asked to sacrifice our energy grids, our water, our capital, and our grasp on objective reality to summon a utopia that exists only in the paperback novels of the 1980s. ​A civilization that burns its present sustenance to summon a mythical savior does not inherit the future. It simply starves. Listen to the podcast audio

  • June 17 · 14 min

    Backrooms is avant-garde art for normies

    It’s 1990. This morning I found an open door in the shopping centre of the dull commuter town I live in. Beyond the door are a series of large empty rooms, poorly lit, with large boxes. Backrooms. I phoned my friend Matthew Woods. Woodsy. He pedaled over his BMX and together we’re going to explore the rooms. I’ve made it to the third room but Woodsy has disappeared. Now I’m hiding behind the boxes as footsteps approach. What are these rooms? Where do they lead? Who is coming for me? Woodsy’s pudgy face appears over the box, and his annoying older brother Rick who works in Dixons the electronic store. They’re laughing. “Damo you twat” Rick roars “you’re in the backroom of Dixons”. Because there are no liminal spaces. Only backrooms. Become a member to watch the full video essay SubscribeSubmitting form Log in Mainstream cinema is choking on its own product. Every movie is a perfect 3-act structure, complete with Inciting Incident, Rising Action, Crisis, Climax and Resolution. Every hero has a meaningful journey that will hit at least nine of Joseph Campbell’s seventeen stages. Every location up to and including alien worlds and Heaven above is an exercise in logical worldbuilding realised as a CGI model in a supercomputer. Everything is a reboot, a prequel, a mashup and an exercise in fan service. And now even the most normie of normie audiences are sick of the product. When along comes a movie that hurls The Writer’s Journey in the bin and treats narrative structure like dated fashion trend its refusing to wear. A movie that follows characters who have no desires to drive them, whose only arcs are traced through non-euclidean liminal spaces. And a movie whose one notable location is the kind of storage room found behind most large shops. The Backrooms, directed by 20 year old Kane Parsons, extending his super successful webseries, itself inspired by the “creepypasta” backrooms meme. A movie that … well … is basically a mid 1990s video art installation straight out of MoMA or Tate Modern. But now in a multiplex near year. Because Backrooms is avant-garde art for normies. Hey guys. Just taking a moment to share a personal confession, that I like many of you often struggle to get a good night’s sleep… …because of the crushing weight of living in capitalist realism. Until I found the solution…and no it’s not one of those “sleep trackers” that induces the exact cycle of low grade anxiety guaranteed to shatter your rest. Introducing the NoClip mattress from BackroomBeds. Their patented Liminalweave technology allows one half your body to rest in the dreary reality of having to get up at 7:30am for another day in the office, while the other half clips off on an adventure in non-euclidean spacetime. You won’t feel any better rested but you will at least feel some hope that there is anything, anywhere beyond another trip to the shopping mall. Get your NoClip mattress from BackroomBeds by walking through the wall of any good basement near you. Matthew Barney’s Cremaster Cycle is basically Clive Barker’s Hellraiser but made for art galleries. Around the mid 90s digital video cameras and projectors began to allow gallery artists, working with tiny budgets, to create visual art using video. Video installation art went back to at least the 1960s, when the Sony Portapak became the first consumer grade video camera. Artists like Nam June Paik created installations using bulky CRT screens, often stacked and arranged into sculptural forms. But digital projectors allowed installation and cinema to merge. Artists like Stan Douglas and Doug Aitken created vast, multi-screen installations of cinema grade imagery. Of works that were non-narrative, instead documenting fragments of real lives and locations, or creating fantastical worlds shown only in brief glimpses. Works that were, for lack of a better term, avant-garde. Avant-garde art is a term almost guaranteed to set most people’s teeth on edge. It’s one of those poncy French words used by English speakers to sound intellectual. Without diving into the full etymology the avant-garde are the forward guard or vanguard. Avant-garde art then is like the cutting edge of art. And, crucially, avant-garde art is doing, ahead of schedule, what mainstream art will be doing thirty years later. So it’s not at all surprising that Backrooms in 2026 looks like video installation art of 1996. That’s exactly what avant-garde theory would predict. Backroom’s excellent soundtrack is less avant-garde than its non-narrative narrative. Ambient and electronica mainstreamed its sound in the 80s and 90s. But when William Basinski pioneered experimental drone music using magnetic tape to tape recordings in the 1970s… …or when John Cage’s 1952 composition 4’33” confronted audiences with 4 minutes 33 seconds of silence… …or when composer Pierre Schaeffer used real world sounds of cars and planes as “instruments” in the 1940s… …these were truly avant-garde art. But today their sound is entirely mainstream in the film soundtracks of Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross or even Hans Zimmer. Once you realise how regularly avant-garde art leaps into the mainstream you realise that it is nothing to fear. It’s kind of crazy to remember that the cinematic jump-cut was considered avant-garde when Jean-Luc Goddard used them in 1960s Breathless. Today the medium of the Tik Tok short wouldn’t exist without them. William S Burrough’s “cut-up” and rearranged pages of text still seems like a cheat to many people, but David Bowie’s song lyrics and every LLM basically do the same. The absurdist humour of the Dada movement, and the confusing, non-narrative performances of their Cabaret Voltaire were utterly dumbfounding to the general public back in 1916. But Monty Python put Dada on our tvs, and today absurdism seems pretty tame compared to Gen-Z shitposting and meme culture. It doesn’t get much more Dada than Pepe the Frog. And the Dadists and 4Channers have more in than dank humour. Because avant-garde art is not just weird art for weird arts sake and shock value. Avant-garde art is fundamentally political. Mainstream art is and always has been there to give comfort. Mainstream culture from Homer’s Iliad to Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan has always reassured us that reality is meaningful. That even war with all its horrors is there to give us the chance to be heroic. But the artists of Dada were living through the mechanised carnage of World War 1. The avant-garde artists who followed saw the worst the 20th century had to throw at us. The concentration camps, the nuclear blasts, the napalm and the AR15. The avant-garde decided that mainstream culture was bullsh*t. Reality wasn’t a 3 act structure with a redemptive character arc. Reality was fucking chaos, random events, meaningless lives and acts of absurdity. And the avant-garde made art that showed that reality. So Backrooms is the avant-garde of 30 years ago finally smuggled into the cinema for normies… …as horror. Backrooms certainly contains a few frights. And it’s perfectly fine to market a movie as horror to bring in the normies. But what Backrooms trades in is less jump scares than profound dis-ease, that will dog you long after you leave the cinema. The true literary forebear of Backrooms is not Stephen King but Jorge Luis Borges, JG Ballard and Thomas Ligotti. The horror of Backrooms is not the supernatural monster but the bland truth that these urinal yellow spaces are much closer to our reality than most “real” locations depicted on the cinema screen. To understand the meaning of Backrooms… …not as a complex made-up LORE… …but as avant-garde art, imagine it projected in a gallery at Tate Modern, with one of those small white cards to explain it to the normies. On that card are written two important words. Liminal is the word most used today to describe Backrooms. And with good reason. But to get to the Liminal we need to go through… …Disenchantment. Ignorance, as they say, is bliss. For most of human history we just didn’t know shit about anything. What’s under the ground? What are those sparkly things over head? What happens after we die? What even are we? So it was very easy to enchant the unknown with the nouminal and the transcendent. To imagine dark fiery hell’s underground, or splendid immortal heavens above. In his 1917 lecture The Vocation of Science the sociologist Max Weber described “the disenchantment of the world”. Already by the early 20th century the power of science and reason had made it impossible to enchant the world with imagination. We could dig into the dirt and look out into the stars. There was nothing transcendent there. There was no nouminal anywhere. Instead, Gen-Z and their Gen-X parents, Millenials and their Boomer mums and dads, all of us alive today, have been born into what Weber called The Iron Cage. With no other places for our imaginations to inhabit, we are trapped in a cage of rationalization and bureaucracy. What little is left of our imagination is commodified and sold back to us as “entertainment” to keep us amused in our Iron Cage. The Hollywood CGI slop machine mindlessly churns out old gods and old myths in new shiny outfits to comfort a humanity that has lost all belief in anything beyond the cage. But then there is the liminal. The state between states. For instance, the messy transition between childhood and adulthood. The place between places. The barren land between city blocks. The strip of grass between motorways. The rooms behind the furniture store. Backrooms. The liminal appears as one of the last spaces where we can place our imagination. Even if the liminal is inhabited by monstrous entities, it’s better than yet more strip malls, housing tracts and office spaces that are our lives in the Iron Cage of the real. Until we realise that even those liminal spaces are just the backroom of Dixons. Normies are the people who don’t even understand they are living in the Iron Cage. But Backrooms is giving them just an edge of a glimpse of that reality. Which has always been the task of the avant-garde. Listen to the podcast audio here

  • June 1 · 24 min

    Why do Leftists always lose? A (partial) defense of Contrapoints

    Chess is the King of Games. It just is. It’s not Buckaroo. It’s not Kerplunk. You don’t see political strategists huddled in a bunker in the Pentagon trying to model geopolitical implications by extracting a plastic stick from a tube so that the marbles don’t fall. No. They play chess. ​Chess is the King of Games because it is a map. ​If we look at the brief history of chess we see a game that evolved out of chaturanga in 6th century India. It spread to the Persians. Then the Arabs got a hold of it. Then it made its way to Europe, where the Europeans, in their infinite wisdom, decided what the game really needed was a phenomenally powerful, hyper-mobile Queen, presumably because medieval European men desperately needed a strong maternal figure to tell them where to go and who to kill. ​But through all of these iterations, from the dust of India to the pristine digital boards of chess.com, chess has remained fundamentally the same thing. It is a map. A map… of POWER. Become a member to watch the video essay here Members get access to all my videos, essays and posts SubscribeSubmitting form Log in ​Just let that sit there for a minute. A map of power. If you’ve come here for a whimsical romp, you’re in the wrong place. We’re doing structural analysis of power dynamics using board games. We’re doing the coolest scifi novel ever written about gameplayers. And we’re doing a brutally honest look at Why Leftists Always Lose. But first we need to talk about Contrapoints. Buckle-up. Contrapoints: The Online Left’s Token Liberal The Liberal centrist is a dying breed. They stay on their reserves in the mainstream media, CNN, MSNBC, The New York Times. Channels nobody watches. Newspapers nobody reads. Meanwhile the Left, the actual Left, is online. And the online Left is very VERY Left wing. If you’re outraged by Hasan Piker you need to know he is the LEAST Left the online Left gets. And with good reason. Gen Z and the rest of us have been living through the “slow cancellation of the future” named by the much missed Mark Fisher. A future imagined in the 60s and 70s built on widespread redistribution of wealth has been replaced with an 80s cyberpunk future where a tiny oligarchy uses all the money to build the torment nexus. It’s no surprise the most googled subject among unemployed young people is how to build a guillotine. The online Left has formed from ideologies of utopian socialism, Marxism and anti-Imperialist Leninism that were made for such unequal times. And that, to be perfectly blunt, do not have the best track record of success. Which brings us to Natalie Wynn, AKA Contrapoints. The Left’s answer to the shrieking hysterical vitriol of Right wing streamers is…the gentle understated irony of the video essayist. Contrapoints is, or was until more recent entrants like FD Signifier, the biggest YouTube video essayist on the Left. Kind of. In her own words Contrapoints costumed, trans identity videos are “communist coded” attracting a much more Left audience than her actual politics. Wynn describes herself the social democratic end of liberal, but to her detractors she is just plain vanilla liberal. A shitlib, as they say on the Left, that uses such terms for anyone right of Lenin. Which makes Natalie Wynn the online Left’s token liberal, trapped in an endless, agonizing cycle of “audience capture” as her incredibly well-lit, feature-length theatrical video essays are ever more centrist, while the audience goes ever further Left. ​If we summarize the “Contrapoints controversy” – and frankly, pick your era, pick your specific cancellation, it’s a repeating fractal of minor grievances – it usually boils down to Natalie suggesting that perhaps, occasionally, engaging with electoral politics or dealing with the world as it actually exists, rather than how it exists in a 90-page zine about anarcho-syndicalist polycule farming, might be a good idea? For this, she is routinely ritually humiliated. ​But the anger directed at Contrapoints isn’t actually about Contrapoints. It’s about the fundamental, irreconcilable and quite valid animosity the Left holds towards a liberal centre that cannot admit its own part in creating the fascist revival of MAGA and Trump, cannot say the letters g e n o c i d e and Gaza in the same sentence, still believes the answer to everything is to go back to the 90s and still, basically, loves capitalism. Contrapoints carries the can for all liberals, who are still the vast majority of the not so online public. Because she says the things that the majority actually thinks about today’s online Left. That you’re unrealistic. That you just don’t understand the position on the Chess board. If we let you play, you will lose. Because ​liberals, you see, want to win at Chess. Leftists want Chess to fuck off and die. ​How Chess Models Power ​Let’s look at the map. Let’s look at how chess actually models power. It does so through four fundamental concepts. Position, Materiel, Initiative, and Checkmate. ​Position. Where are your pieces? Do you control the center of the board? In warfare position is geography. Do you hold the high ground on the battlefield? But in politics, position is Institutional Capture. Are you in control of the House, Senate and Presidency? Or is your total influence some underfunded NGOs and academic departments in Gender Studies? ​Materiel. How many pieces do you have on the board? Have you got your rooks? Your bishops? Or are you down to a single, traumatized pawn shivering behind a king who has completely lost control of the situation? Materiel in politics is people and capital. How many senators and judges do you have? Who are your billionaire backers? ​Initiative. Who is doing the doing? Are you dictating the pace of the game, forcing your opponent to react to your threats? Or are you constantly on the back foot, defending, scrambling, apologizing? Initiative in politics is the news cycle. It is the narrative. Donald Trump is incompetent and most things, but his political brilliance is in winning the narrative, and holding the initiative. ​Checkmate. The end. The absolute cessation of the opponent’s ability to resist. The realization that there are no legal moves left. In Chess the king is never destroyed. He is trapped. The aim of politics is not to destroy but to entrap your opponents and make them pieces in your in future battles. ​Now, imagine politics in the year 2026 as a massive game of chess. Played on a board of near infinite size, with a vast number of players and pieces that all have their own agendas. Keep that in mind, we’re going to think about a game like that very soon. With a few exceptions, like New York mayor Zoran Mamdani, the Left seems determined to lose at chess, by adopting strategies that cannot win. ​The Right-wing Advantage and the Liberal Game ​Here is the brutal political reality. The Right have a massive, almost insurmountable advantage in this game. Why? Because all they do is play to win. ​The Right don’t care if the knight is supposed to move in an L-shape. If the referee isn’t looking, they will pick up the knight, smash it into the side of your head, and declare a glorious victory for traditional family values. They understand materiel. They understand initiative. They will sacrifice the pawns. My god, will they sacrifice the pawns. They will sacrifice all the pawns in their stupid red hats if it means the King gets a slight tax break. They play the map of power exactly as it is designed to be played and the win. ​Liberals have it much harder. Liberals play to win ethically. ​A liberal sits at the chess board and says, “Well, I could take that bishop, but has the bishop been offered a negotiated settlement? Have we done an environmental impact study on moving this rook to D4? Is it fair that the Queen has so much mobility while the pawns are downwardly mobile professionals? We should probably form a committee.” ​The great triumph of liberalism – the reason we are not all currently living in a Mad Max dystopia paying tithes to a local warlord – is that liberalism triumphed by LIMITING the game. They introduced rules. They introduced HR departments, and human rights tribunals, and the concept of “democracy.” The launched a four hundred year offensive to make the game survivable and they won. ​What a pragmatic liberal like Contrapoints is worried about, deep down beneath the corsets and the neon lighting, is that this hard-won advantage, this delicate, limited game of liberal democracy, will be entirely lost if we succumb to playing “Leftist Chess.” ​Because she knows, as anyone who has spent more than fifteen minutes in a left-wing organizing meeting knows, that Leftist Chess is an unremitting fucking disaster. ​How Leftist Factions Play Chess ​If you want to know why Leftists always lose, you just have to watch them play the game. Let us break down the factions. It’s a very rich tapestry of failure. And because I know how chill and open to critique Leftists factions are, I’m sure you’ll all take this with good humour. ​The Utopian Socialists They refuse to start the game. They look at the mass-produced, factory-molded board and declare it a symptom of profound spiritual alienation. They demand the board be remade as a circle, and the squares must be abolished, because alternating black and white squares enforces the brutalist, soul-crushing logic of the industrial loom. They sit there, cross-legged, weaving a new, non-competitive game out of locally sourced hemp, while the Right-wing player silently reaches across the board and takes their King. ​The Orthodox Marxists The Orthodox Marxist sits at the board, folds their arms, and does absolutely nothing. They have read the theory. They understand the dialectic. They know, with absolute scientific certainty, that the contradictions inherent in the opponent’s opening strategy will inevitably lead to the collapse of their position. Moving a piece would be adventurism. It would delay the inevitable historical process. The Conservative player checkmates them in four moves. They claim this checkmate proves they were right all along. ​The Leninists The Leninist arrives at the table and immediately establishes a “vanguard party” consisting entirely of their own Rooks. They execute the opponent’s pawns. Then, just to be safe, they execute half of their own pawns for exhibiting counter-revolutionary tendencies. They declare victory. Five years later, the Rooks realize they are now just playing capitalism, but with worse food and more concrete. The Right wing player wins by default. ​The Stalinists The Stalinist plays exactly like the Leninist, but after executing their own pawns, they meticulously airbrush those pawns out of all the official tournament photographs, and if you point out that the pawns used to be there, you are sent to a gulag located on square H8. ​The Social Democrats Ah, the Social Democrats. Bless them. They start the game by apologizing for being there. They try to implement a welfare state for the pawns, funded by a tax on the King’s diagonal movements. They are then brutally crushed by a nakedly aggressive Conservative Queen who has offshored all her wealth to a different board altogether. ​The Democratic Socialists The Democratic Socialists spend three and a half hours agonizing over whether moving a pawn is a betrayal of the working class. They hold a plenary session and after intense factional infighting, they reach a historic compromise where they agree to move a pawn one square forward only with a unanimous vote of other pawns, before realising all their pawns have now been taken by the Right wing knights. They write an academic paper about it. ​The Anarchists The Anarchists insist that the game can have no rules. They immediately declare the center of the board a temporary autonomous zone. Knights attempting to move in an L are beaten with sticks and anyone asking what the rules are is targeted with a bombing campaign to preserve the “principles of non-violence”. After declaring them terrorists the Right wing player has them rendered to a black site and rewrites the rules to his own advantage. The Trotskyists declare their own side ideologically impure and form a splinter group before the game can begin. The Internet Tankies lose every game specifically so they can accuse it of being a CIA backed colour revolution. Hasan Piker chess is played on a pearl inlaid board with solid gold and silver pieces made by Cartier. And the liberals. The dull, stolid liberals pop in their ear buds to listen to Ezra Klein and make one cautious, boring move after another, slowly, surely accruing material advantage, trading initiative for position, and close in on Checkmate… …only to be removed from the players seat by a populist Left who want cheaper bus fares. ​Contrapoints looks at this absolute circus of self-sabotage, ideological purity spirals, and historical LARPing, and she is right to doubt it. She is right to say, “Maybe, just maybe, we should try to actually win the game of chess we are currently forced to play, rather than pretending we are playing a different game entirely.” ​But she, and other pragmatic somewhat dull liberals, miss something essential. ​The Player of Games ​If you want to understand the solution to all of this, you shouldn’t be reading political theory. You should be reading Scottish science fiction. Specifically, you should be reading Iain M. Banks. ​In Banks’ 1988 novel The Player of Games, we are introduced to a society called the Empire of Azad. The Empire of Azad is held together entirely by a staggeringly complex board game, also called Azad. The game is the system, and the system is the game. Your social standing, your political power, your entire life is determined by how well you play Azad. And that system is as brutal as they come. Late in the story we are shown the “secret channels” the Azadian Epstein class watch livestream torture and murder. ​The protagonist, a man named Jernau Morat Gurgeh, comes from a post-scarcity, fully automated luxury space communist society called the Culture. Morat means “gameplayer”. Jernau Morat Gurgeh, the greatest gameplayer in the Culture, is sent to the Empire of Azad to play them at their own game. ​He doesn’t go there and complain that the game is unfair. He doesn’t go there and write a blog about how the board is structurally oppressive. He doesn’t try to organize the game pieces into a syndicalist commune. ​He sits down. He learns the rules. He plays. And he wins. And in winning, destroys the game entirely. ​There is a lesson here. Two lessons, actually. One for the Leftists, and one for the Liberals. ​The lesson for Leftists is this: The only way to change the game is to win. ​You cannot ignore the map of power. You cannot wish it away with purity tests and theoretically flawless critiques published in obscure journals. If you want chess to fuck off and die, you cannot achieve that by refusing to play. You have to sit down at the board, look the bastard across from you in the eye, and systematically, relentlessly dismantle their position. You have to master position, materiel, and initiative. You have to learn to corner your opponent, reduce their possible moves to zero and force checkmate. You have to beat them at their own game before you can flip the table, burn the board and shred all the pieces. ​The lesson for Liberals, however, is this: The only way to really win is to transcend the system. ​In The Player of Games, Gurgeh doesn’t just beat the Emperor of Azad by playing the Emperor’s style of game better than the Emperor. He beats him by playing his own style. He plays a style of game that reflects the values of his own, utopian, egalitarian society. He plays so fluidly, so beautifully, and so completely outside the narrow, brutal, fascistic paradigm of his opponent, that the game itself, and the Empire based on the game, are destroyed forever. ​Liberals like Contrapoints want to protect the limited rules of the game because those hard won rules keep us safe. And they are right, in the short term. But in the long term, Chess always ends with carnage. You must play not to preserve a slightly better version of the game, but to transcend Chess entirely. ​You have to play to win, yes. But you have to play in a way that proves a better world is possible. You have to master the board not to become the King, but to demonstrate that the very concept of the King is obsolete. And you did this once. Liberals deposed the kings, established democracy, won human rights. Then you just fucking gave up. You decided your expensive cities and more expensive college degrees were enough. You stopped playing to change the the game and started just…playing the game. ​Chess is the King of Games. It is a map of power. ​But maps can be redrawn. And Kings, historically speaking, can be removed from the board entirely. You just have to be willing to make the move. Listen to the podcast audio here

  • May 16 · 32 min

    2026 : the year World War 3 begins

    To my Gen-X compatriots, to the Boomers and Millenials, and to Gen-Z who will have to clean up this mess we all made… …can we agree that Star Trek is the future we would all like? A future in which poverty is eradicated, disease is a mere curiosity of the past, humanity has put aside petty squabbles over resources, borders, and skin melanin and replaced all of that sh*t with a collective, enlightenment-driven pursuit of knowledge and self-betterment. A future in which humanity has – to use the rigorous academic term – Grown The Fuck Up Watch the full video essay here SubscribeSubmitting form Log in Is Star Trek a future we can all agree on? Let us tune out the ideological zealots, the Tankies and the Nazis, who treat our planetary collapse as a competitive team sport, and among the exhausted, fact-based majority, agree on Star Trek as our shared prize. When we look at the USS Enterprise we do not just see a starship, we see a perfectly calibrated, post-scarcity society. It is the ultimate manifestation of what contemporary political theorists affectionately call FALC: Fully Automated Luxury Communism… in space. Let’s place ourselves at the intersection of eschatology, speculative fiction, and macro-economics and ask a question of Star Trek – specifically, the teleological trajectory required to actually achieve the utopian federation depicted within it. Put in layman’s terms–how the fuck do we *get* to Star Trek? ​Because there is, unfortunately, one catastrophic, glaring problem with this cultural lodestone. ​In the canonical lore of the Star Trek universe, this magnificent, post-scarcity utopia does not emerge from a peaceful, democratic transition. It does not arrive because a coalition of enlightened centrist politicians finally passed the right carbon tax. It happens exclusively on the other side of World War III – a global, thermonuclear, and genetic holocaust that wipes out a third of the Earth’s population and plunges the survivors into a radioactive dark age. ​And, according to the deeply unsettling timeline of the Star Trek universe, that war starts right here. Right now. In 2026. ​Check your watches, ladies and gentlemen. We are right on schedule. ​PART ONE: WW3 AND STAR TREK ​Signs of WW3 in 2026 ​I do not need to remind you that it is currently 2026, and the geopolitical dashboard is flashing red across every conceivable metric. We are witnessing an unprecedented convergence of systemic stressors that makes the Cuban Missile Crisis look like a polite disagreement over a parking space. Check your newsfeed, or simply look out the window We have the protracted, grinding meat-grinder of the Ukraine war, acting as a proxy battlefield for nuclear superpowers and playground for combat robot gen 1 Terminators. We have Iran and the broader Middle East locked in a collapsing spiral of kinetic retaliation, vaporising the very oil reserves America started yet another war to secure. We are drowning in an epistemological nightmare of disinformation, where shared objective reality has fractured into bespoke, algorithmically curated psychotic echo chambers so deranged they make Alex Jones look like a reliable source. Economic inequality has reached a velocity where billionaires are literally launching themselves into the exosphere while the proletariat attempts to crowdfund their insulin. Consequently, fascism is no longer a historical curiosity confined to black-and-white footage. It is once again a rising, viable, mainstream electoral strategy. Immigrants are being demonised and minorities persecuted. Germany and Japan are re-arming. If this all looks spookily like the events that drove us through WW1 and WW2 that’s because the systems which caused those wars are once again driving us towards global arma-fucking-geddon. Which is what we’re really here to think about, not human morality or high drama, but cold, machine logic, the systems driving us to war. And the one system that those of you in the know will see lurking behind all the others. A system whose name we shall not utter…until later. And what Star Trek, the ultimate work of systems fiction, can teach us about those systems. ​Why WW3 Happened in Star Trek ​We must first examine why World War III happened in the Star Trek continuity. Originally, the writers in the late 1960s, operating under the assumption that the Cold War would inevitably go hot, placed the Eugenics Wars and the precursor to WW3 in the 1990s. When we miraculously survived the 90s with nothing more distasteful than dial-up internet and Nu-Metal, the lore was continuously retconned. ​The canonical window for the end of the world is now established as 2026 to 2054. ​What the writers of Star Trek intuitively grasped, and what modern science fiction authors like William Gibson have explicitly codified, and what we have already explored together in the channel, is the concept of “The Jackpot.” The Jackpot is not a single, catastrophic Michael Bay explosion. It is a multifactorial collapse. It is what happens when climate change, pandemics, economic implosion, and localized nuclear exchanges all decide to book onto the same budget holiday tour to Earth. ​The specific causes of WW3 in Trek lore reflect this multifactorial nightmare: Eco-collapse: The environment degrades to the point where resource scarcity triggers mass migration and border wars. We’re already close to the 216 million climate refugees predicted by 2050 Colonel Green and “Humanity First”: The rise of ecofascism, when the elites who caused climate catastrophe start using it as another excuse to persecute the victims, spearheaded by a charismatic military man who justifies mass culling under the banner of preserving a pure, surviving humanity. Is Humanity First better or worse than America first? Maybe they’re both just the same old xenophobia in a new package. The Eugenics Wars: The disastrous byproduct of unregulated biotechnology and genetic engineering, leading to augmented transhumans (like Khan Noonien Singh) who view baseline humanity as a biological relic meant to be subjugated. Today’s “transhumanists” freezing their heads in cryo and sucking stem cells out of teenagers are just a foretaste of what is to come. ​What Is Systems Thinking? ​To understand how these fictional events map so terrifyingly well onto our current reality, we must engage in “Systems Thinking.” ​In pre-modern times, human beings lacked the ontological framework to understand complex, interconnected crises. In layman’s terms : we didn’t know why the fuck things went wrong. When crops failed, plagues spread, and empires fell, we blamed systemic problems on “powers and principalities.” We blamed demons, angry gods, witches, or that goat with the funny eyes. We lacked the cognitive tools to understand that the problem was not acting upon the system from the outside; the problem was inherent in the system. ​In the modern scientific age, we utilize systems thinking. We define a system as any interconnected set of elements that is coherently organized in a way that achieves something. A nation, a dog, an economy, the M25 ring road, are all systems. If you look at a traffic jam on the M25, the pre-modern thinker blames the evil spirit of the highway. The systems thinker maps the feedback loops of urban planning, population density, and individual commuter incentives. And don’t start assuming just being alive in 2026 makes you a systems thinker. How many of us stuck in a traffic still bkame Jesus Fucking Christ? How many of us look at the systemic issues of climate change and blame Jeffrey in Norwich for not separating his tins from his plastics? The ancient practice of “scapegoating” that was exploited by a British Petroleum ad campaign in 2004 to make us blame each other and not… …the system ​Star Trek as Systems Fiction ​And those of us who can manage some systems thinking today can do so in part because of Star Trek. Star Trek is one of the few enduring pieces of popular media that operates as “systems fiction.” Every episode the Enterprise arrives at a new planet and analyses it AS A SYSTEM. ​When the Enterprise visits a planet where half the population exploits the other half, Picard doesn’t just punch the alien leader. Ok, yes, Kirk did sometimes often just punch the alien leader. But our Philosopher King analyzes their resource allocation, their historical dialectic, and the systemic flaws in their socio-economic paradigm. He operates as an intergalactic systems auditor. Star Trek is not a unique sample of systems fiction. The greatest science fiction – Frank Herbert’s Dune, everything by Ursula K Le Guin, the works of Octavia Butler, or Thomas Pynchon, or Don Delillo – are also systems fiction. Systems FICTION matters because stories are one of humankind’s most powerful…systems. We think and live in stories. Frank Herbert’s Dune takes all the systems of an entire planet and funnels them down into one anti-heroic story. But systems thinking is rare, oh so rare, in mass media. Star Trek was virtually a lone bastion of systemic analysis in 20th century mass culture. Given to us by one of the great science fiction imaginations. Gene Roddenberry, the creator of Trek, was a systems thinker. Roddenberry didn’t write Star Trek, he conceived it. He built the playground others would play in to create season after season of mind blowing systems fiction. And, crucially, Roddenberry understood that complex adaptive systems—like global civilization—do not change their fundamental operating rules voluntarily. They change only because the parts of the system, us, humanity, grow the fuck up. Or when the failure to grow the fuck up subjects the system to a catastrophic shock that shatters the existing paradigm. ​Roddenberry believed that to get to Star Trek, humanity had to go through WW3. The old system had to be violently dismantled because it was fundamentally incapable of reforming itself from within. ​Was he correct? Part Two – ​The Systems of World War 3: A Typology of Doom Imagine the classic scifi thought experiment – an alien arrives on Earth and judges our primitive society. But this is no alien. This is Captain Jean Luc Picard, in orbit in the Enterprise-D, looking down upon us…severely. Not because our problems are serious. Picard is a compassionate man and if we were doomed by, say, the impending collapse of the planetary crust, he would move heaven and earth to save…Earth. No. Picard looks down on early 21st century humanity because our problems are dumb and we fail to solve them only because we are too greedy. Why are we so obsessed with the green paper tokens we use for resource allocation? Why don’t we just fairly share our resources, from each according to our capacity, to each according to their need? Why are the factories owned by a tiny elite who mostly live in Dubai, Monaco or Manhattan? Why are the means of production not owned by the workers? Why would 21st century humanity rather fight a third global war than chill out and focus on cool things like exploring the final frontier? And most of all Picard would scowl down upon the one system driving all others to their doom. Let us now examine the specific systemic architectures currently operating in our 2026 reality that are leading us, with mathematical inevitability, toward the precipice. Here I have compiled the many systems leading to WW3 into a literal listicle of doom. ​Existential Tech We are the first generations in the history of the Earth to possess the technological capacity to enact our own extinction. A stone axe can cause a nasty flesh wound, a nuke can vaporise a civilization. This is a profound systemic shift. The proliferation of nuclear arsenals under the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD) created a system where peace is maintained only by a perpetual hostage situation. But it is no longer just nukes. The democratization of biotechnology means that CRISPR gene-editing kits can be purchased by any mildly alienated terrorist group. And the incentives of the free market system mean that no state can choose to *not* build such dangerous toys or risk losing out. Existential tech proliferates exponentially while wisdom declines even faster. ​Disinfo: The Semiotic Collapse A civilization cannot survive if it cannot agree on basic epistemological reality. No human population in which a significant percentage can be convinced the Earth is flat or that Lex Fridman is an intellectual can expect to survive long. We have built a global communications architecture optimized not for truth, but for clicks, resulting in a semiotic collapse, where propaganda, deepfakes, and algorithmic hallucinations have severed the signifier from the signified. A society trapped in a Baudrillardian hyperreality – unable to distinguish between a genuine geopolitical threat and an AI-generated psy-op designed to manipulate a stock price or a prediction market. Because in our global digital media the truth belongs to whoever pays. ​Unipolar Hegemony Following the Cold War, the global system reorganized around a single unipolar hegemon. Which worked kind of until the hegemon had a mid-life crisis and decided it couldn’t be f*cked anymore. The American empire is like late career Elvis. Everything that seemed “cool” until quite recently – the hamburgers, the aircraft carriers, the global financial system – seems suddenly obsolete, kitsch and a tad embarrassing. But the desperate flailing of a declining empire attempting to enforce a unipolar reality on an increasingly multipolar world is a system doomed to generate … doom. ​Multipolarity Game Theory Collapse Conversely, the transition to multipolarity offers no salvation. In a multipolar system with multiple nuclear-armed actors (state and non-state), traditional Cold War game theory collapses. John Nash’s equilibrium only works when the variables are limited and actors are … rational. In a world with seven or eight or two dozen nuclear powers, all acting on differing ideological, religious, and economic imperatives, the game theory matrix becomes incomprehensibly complex. The system shifts from a predictable standoff to a chaotic n-body problem, where a localized skirmish cascades unpredictably into a zero-sum, planet-wide thermonuclear exchange. ​Eco-collapse and Resource Wars The global economic system is predicated on the delusion of infinite growth on a planet with finite resources. This is a terminal systemic error. As we cross planetary boundaries—ocean acidification, topsoil depletion, atmospheric carbon saturation—the carrying capacity of the Earth plummets. Eco-collapse forces the system into a brutal contraction. When the equatorial regions become uninhabitable, we will see climate migration on the scale of billions. Borders will harden, supply chains will snap, and nations will invariably go to war over access to arable land, fresh water, and rare earth minerals. It is the ultimate tragedy of the commons, enforced by artillery. ​Religious Fundamentalism Systems of extreme religious fundamentalism operate on an eschatological death drive. While secular states might go to war for resources or security, fundamentalist systems operate on a theological teleology that actually desires the end of the world. When you inject nuclear or biological capabilities into a systemic worldview that views the apocalypse not as a failure state, but as a divine prophecy and a prerequisite for salvation, deterrence theory is rendered utterly moot. You cannot deter an actor who believes that mutually assured destruction is merely the quickest transit route back to Jesus. The Military-Industrial Complex The system that Eisenhower warned against is not a defensive apparatus, it is an autonomous, self-replicating economic algorithm that converts human blood and public tax dollars into shareholder dividends. By intentionally fracturing its manufacturing supply chains across multiple legislative districts, it has perfectly captured the political process. The system cannot sustain infinite financial growth without continuous kinetic consumption, meaning geopolitical friction must be structurally manufactured to justify the endless production of precision-guided ordnance. World Peace is now literally too expensive. When your fundamental economic paradigm requires the perpetual destruction of surplus capital and human lives just to meet quarterly profit targets, the equation simplifies itself with terrifying mathematical certainty: capitalism is war. ​Fascism: The Weakness of the Masses Drawing on Wilhelm Reich and Deleuze and Guattari, fascism is not merely a political structure; it is a psychological system. It is a symptom of the psychic inadequacy and the weakness of the masses, who, under conditions of extreme economic and social stress, actively desire their own repression. The fascist system relies on the perpetual construction of an “Other” to blame for systemic failures. Because this system is inherently irrational and requires constant escalation to maintain its internal cohesion, its only logical endpoint is an aestheticized politics of total annihilation. It is a suicide pact masquerading as national rebirth. ​The Great Filter The Fermi Paradox asks: if the universe is so vast, where is everyone? Robin Hanson’s “Great Filter” theory provides the systemic answer. The evolutionary leap from a single-planet species to a multi-planetary, star-faring civilization contains a systemic bottleneck—a filter—that almost no species survives. As we survey the cascading crises of 2026, it is overwhelmingly apparent that we are currently slamming face-first into this filter. The combination of god-like technology and primate-level emotional regulation suggests that intelligence itself might be a lethal evolutionary dead-end, a system inherently prone to self-termination. ​Algorithmic Escalation Ladder We have integrated autonomous, machine-learning algorithms into our global financial and military infrastructure. These systems operate at speeds incomprehensible to human cognition. We have seen financial “flash crashes” where algorithms triggered massive economic destruction in seconds. If we apply this same systemic architecture to military early-warning and response protocols, we risk an Algorithmic Escalation Ladder. An AI, processing a false data point, initiates a counter-measure, triggering an opposing AI’s response loop. World War 3 could begin and end in the space of three milliseconds, entirely bypassing human agency. ​Sandpile Effect: Self-Organized Criticality Finally, we must look to physics, specifically Per Bak’s concept of self-organized criticality, often referred to as the Sandpile Effect. If you drop sand grain by grain, it builds a pile until it reaches a critical state. Once at this state, dropping one more grain of sand will trigger an avalanche. You cannot predict which grain will cause it, or how large the avalanche will be, only that the system is structurally poised for collapse. The global geopolitical and economic system in 2026 is a critical sandpile. The inciting incident for WW3 will not be a grand, rational policy decision. It will be an errant drone strike, a localized bank run, a misinterpreted tweet – a single, microscopic grain of sand that triggers the total, systemic avalanche. ​CONCLUSION : The system driving all systems ​So, Boomers, Zoomers, Alphas, Millenials, and Xers, we arrive at the conclusion of our systems analysis. ​The Bad News is mathematically bleak. EVERY system currently operating on this planet is leading directly toward World War 3. And behind those multifarious systems is a singular system. Capitalism. Capitalism demands infinite growth on a finite planet and relentless resource extraction. Our global hegemon is capitalist. Our multipolar powers are trapped in capitalist competition. Capitalism cannot stop building existential tech and capitalism is the military industrial complex. Capitalism, as we have heard, is war. The feedback loops of endless extraction, engineered scarcity, military-industrial profit motives, and hyper-individualistic consumption are all converging on the exact same coordinate: complete and utter global collapse. And the burning nuclear fires of World War 3. Star Trek gives us hope ​The post-WW3 future of Roddenberry’s vision is different from our current reality in one massive, inescapable way: It is inherently and structurally post-capitalist. Call it Fully Automated Luxury Communism. Call it Utopia. Call it space socialism. You cannot have a society where energy is virtually infinite, matter can be synthesized from thin air, and human labor is entirely voluntary, and still enforce a system based on artificial scarcity, wage labor, and quarterly profit margins. The existence of the replicator fundamentally destroys the capitalist mode of production. And as our society moves, however staggeringly, towards post-scarcity. As digitisation and the internet make many goods zero marginal cost, and as the looming spectre of AI and robotics automates work. The potential of a post-scarcity society is there for us to grasp, if we can find a path to post-capitalism. But capitalism will not let go without a fight Roddenberry’s thesis was that the capitalist hegemony would, rather than voluntarily relinquish its systemic dominance, initiate a global thermonuclear war. Roddenberry’s terrible prophecy is not just good television; it is rigorous systemic analysis. The prevailing socio-economic order cannot, and will not, voluntarily relinquish its power. It will drive the ship into the sun before it allows the crew to form a union. ​The Good News, hypothetically speaking, is remarkably simple. All we need to do to avoid the nuclear fire and skip straight to the Federation is transcend capitalism. We simply need to abandon the artificial limitations of our economic paradigms, recognize our shared planetary reality, distribute resources equitably, and finally grow the fuck up. ​Which brings us, tragically, to the final piece of Bad News. ​All we need to do is grow up. Yep. We’re cooked. Listen here

  • April 26 · 35 min

    You don’t understand science fiction

    There is a single narrative technique that connects almost every multi-billion dollar science fiction franchise ever made. It is the invisible engine powering the most successful stories of the last century. And yet, if you ask ten working Hollywood screenwriters what it is, nine of them will give you a blank stare—and the tenth will probably try to sell you a $200 course on “worldbuilding.” ​Think about the heaviest hitters in science fiction today. ​Take Fallout. The reason that universe is so compelling isn’t just because Bethesda really loves 1950s aesthetics and dank radiation memes. It’s built on one specific, structural cheat code. Look at Jurassic Park. The terror doesn’t actually come from the CGI T-Rex; it comes from one, very isolated scientific premise. Or look at the box office juggernaut Project Hail Mary – Andy Weir didn’t write a sprawling space opera, he built a meticulous puzzle box around exactly one new rule of biology. Members get full access to all videos and posts SubscribeSubmitting form Log in ​This isn’t just a modern blockbuster trend, either. This is the foundational DNA of science fiction. ​It is the exact same tool Mary Shelley used to accidentally invent science fiction with Frankenstein back in 1818 just because she was bored on vacation. It’s the same mechanism H.G. Wells used to absolutely terrify Victorian readers by showing them what it was like to be invaded by Victorian colonialists in The War of the Worlds. It is so deeply fundamental to the mechanics of creating a meaningful scifi world that every great from Arthur C Clarke to Ursula K Le Guin uses it without even giving it a name. Even fantasy writers, when they can stop calculating the exchange values of the seven major currencies in their world, actually do this. Even if J.R.R. Tolkien would probably rise from the grave to write a strongly worded letter in Elvish denying it. It’s RIGHT there in Lord of the Rings. Like a One Ring of power. Yes I did write that whole paragraph to make that pun. But it’s also true. ​Every great sci-fi writer is using this tool, whether they know the academic term for it or not. It is the ultimate storytelling power-up. And once you see it, you will never look at a “worldbuilding bible” the same way again. Right now I can divide you all into two groups. Group A are the ambitious power hungry young writers who want to be the next Brandon Sanderson by using this one easy trick. Group B are the creative purists who are recoiling in horror “NO! I will not sully my unique artistic vision with this HACK!” But all I’m doing is putting a new, powerful, sonic screwdriver in your scifi toolkit. What you do with it is all about you. And if you have no interest in telling scifi stories, this is also just a great way to understand them. Aaaand Group C…who already clicked ahead in the timeline to find out what the fuck I am talking about while muttering about getting to the point. So let’s get to the point. But before we get to the point of giving this thing its proper, intimidatingly academic name, let’s look at what screenwriters usually call it when they’re trying to sound smart in a pitch meeting. ​A lot of writers refer to it as the “One Big Lie.” This is the single, massive falsehood you demand your audience swallow right on page one, just so the rest of the story can function. It’s the author holding the reader hostage and saying, “Look, just accept that we can fold spacetime using spice addicted worms, okay? How do the warp drives *work*? Dilithium Crystamathingy. Do not look at the math, we have a socio-political metaphor disguised as a planet to get to.” ​Futurists and tech-adjacent folks like to call it the “Shock.” This is the specific piece of fictional technology that drops into a society and immediately shatters the status quo. Just take any William Gibson novel, extract the unique tech, that’s the Shock. Meanwhile, the alt-history buffs call it the “Point of Divergence”—the exact moment on the timeline where the fictional world violently swerves away from our actual, exponentially more depressing reality. ​All of these are…fine? They vaguely point at the right idea. But the sharpest, most precise term for this tool—the one that will actually fix your broken script and stop you from wasting another three weeks designing the fictional tax code of a moon colony no one cares about—is The Novum. ​Latin for “the new thing.” It’s a term coined by literary scholars who desperately needed to sound rigorous while analyzing tentacle faced aliens wielding space lasers in the 1970s. That literary scholar being Darko Suvin. The OG of the academic field of science fiction studies. Think of Professor Suvin as your Severus Snape, here to teach you Defence Against The Dark Arts…and we all know what that really means. But we’ll come back to Cognitive Estrangement. ​Because in practical storytelling terms, the Novum is the scientifically plausible innovation, discovery, or historical shift that forces a society to completely rewire itself. It isn’t just a cool gadget your hero uses to shoot the bad guy. It is the inciting incident not just for your plot, but for your entire fucking universe. INTERVAL: The Crucial Distinction (Or: Why a Novum is NOT a F***ing MacGuffin) ​Before we get to the master list, we need to clear up a massive misconception. Because right now, there is a very specific type of aging film student watching this who is confidently thinking, “Oh, I get it. The Novum. It’s just a MacGuffin.” ​No. Stop. Put the glowing briefcase down. ​Alfred Hitchcock popularized the concept of the MacGuffin. It is an object, a device, or a piece of information that all the characters desperately want. It exists solely to give everyone a reason to be in the same room. The Death Star plans in Star Wars. The Ark of the Covenant in Raiders of the Lost Ark. The glowing briefcase in Pulp Fiction. ​But here is the defining trait of a MacGuffin: It is entirely, one hundred percent arbitrary. ​You can completely swap out the glowing briefcase in Pulp Fiction for a bag of blood diamonds, the nuclear launch codes, or a mint-condition holographic Charizard card, and the plot remains exactly the same. Vincent and Jules still show up at the apartment, they still shoot Brett, and they still go get breakfast. The MacGuffin only drives the plot. ​The Novum is entirely different. The Novum drives the world. ​You cannot swap it out. It is structurally load-bearing. If you swap the viable dinosaur DNA in Jurassic Park for a bag of stolen diamonds, the entire universe collapses. There is no theme park. There is no catastrophic failure of a biological ecosystem. There is just an eccentric old billionaire staring at a shiny rock in a helicopter. ​If you swap the simulated reality of The Matrix for a stolen microchip, you don’t have a cyberpunk philosophical awakening; you just have a very confusing Keanu Reeves action movie where people wear too much leather indoors. ​A MacGuffin is just a lazy excuse for your characters to run around and shoot at each other. A Novum is the foundational rule of physics that dictates why they are running, how they are shooting, and the structural reality of the very ground they are running on. TWO: The Kinda Complete List of Sci-Fi Novums ​The Blockbuster Novum ​Let’s start with the crowd-pleasers. This is the Novum distilled into pure, highly marketable adrenaline. ​The Blockbuster Novum doesn’t require the audience to hold a degree in sociology, and more importantly, it doesn’t require a studio executive to read past page one of the treatment. It is the ultimate elevator pitch. Instead of rewriting all of global human society, the Blockbuster Novum creates a highly isolated, extremely volatile sandbox where things can spectacularly blow up. ​Look at Jurassic Park. The Novum is perfectly constrained: Viable dinosaur DNA can be extracted from fossilized amber. That’s it. It doesn’t cure cancer. It doesn’t solve world hunger or alter global geopolitics. It just acts as the singular scientific catalyst for a standard, hubristic tech billionaire to build a theme park that immediately eats its own lawyers. ​Or consider Inception. The Novum is the PASIV device—a machine that allows for shared dreaming. Christopher Nolan doesn’t waste time explaining how this technology affects the global economy or the healthcare system. He just uses it to upgrade the standard corporate espionage thriller into a heist movie set entirely inside the human subconscious. ​When done right, this type of Novum is an instant engine for action. It’s the single “What If” that launches a billion-dollar franchise. ​Cue the rapid-fire action montage: ​The Terminator: A defense network achieves localized self-awareness and invents time travel strictly to clean up its own administrative errors. ​Minority Report: Three mutated humans can accurately predict murders before they happen, turning the justice system into an inescapable, pre-emptive bureaucracy. ​District 9: Aliens aren’t invaders or philosophers; they’re just working-class refugees whose ship broke down over Johannesburg, instantly creating a localized apartheid state. ​Avatar: A planetary ecology functions as a biological internet, which unfortunately sits right on top of the most valuable rock in the universe. ​Edge of Tomorrow: Exposure to alien blood physically resets the temporal day upon death, turning a galactic war into a lethal video game speedrun. ​Back to the Future: The Flux Capacitor makes time travel entirely possible, provided you have access to weapons-grade plutonium and a DeLorean that can somehow hit 88 miles per hour in a mall parking lot. ​These are the cash cows. They take one impossible thing, make it the law of physics for exactly two hours, and let the chaos unfold. The Literary Novum ​Now we shift gears from the Hollywood executives to the authors who want to win Hugo awards and make the reader feel slightly inadequate about their intellect. ​The Literary Novum isn’t built to optimise action figure sales. You aren’t going to get a lot of space battles or laser swords here. Instead, these are pure sociological thought experiments. The author takes one fundamental, unshakeable rule of human existence or the physical universe, alters it, and then meticulously—almost clinically—tracks the psychological and cultural fallout. ​Take Ursula K. Le Guin’s masterpiece, The Left Hand of Darkness. The Novum is a biologically ambisexual human race. The inhabitants of Gethen only manifest a sex drive or specific gender characteristics for a few days a month. By removing fixed sexual dimorphism from the equation, Le Guin builds a complex society completely free of the patriarchal and matriarchal power dynamics that define our entire history. It’s a Novum so powerful it actually turns our own real-world gender constructs into the “alien” concept. Don’t worry if you didn’t understand any of that. That is kind of the point of Literary Novums?…Novae? ​Or look at Cixin Liu’s The Three-Body Problem. The Novum is the titular three body problem: a neighboring star system with three suns that create an unsolvable, wildly chaotic orbital cycle. It forces the native alien civilization into a perpetual cycle of apocalyptic trauma. This single astrophysical fact perfectly and logically explains exactly why they would be so ruthlessly, coldly focused on stealing our boring, stable planet. And it’s also a clear metaphor for the Capitalist powers that colonised China, when you think about it. ​This type of Novum is heavy, thoughtful, and usually leaves you staring at a wall for twenty minutes after finishing the book. ​Cue the montage of literary devastation: ​Dune: A narcotic dust called the Spice Melange allows for prescience and faster-than-light travel, instantly turning a miserable, giant-worm-infested sandbox into the ultimate economic choke point of a galactic feudal monopoly. ​The Handmaid’s Tale: A catastrophic global plummet in human fertility is immediately weaponized to build a theocratic nightmare. ​Fahrenheit 451: We figured out how to make all houses completely fireproof, so society logically repurposed the fire department to exclusively burn contraband literature. That’s a joke. Do NOT leave that pedantic comment! Just checking you’re paying attention and haven’t been virtually lobotomized by hyper saturated media that destroys your capacity for critical thinking. ​Neuromancer: The invention of the cybernetic deck, which allows hyper-caffeinated hackers to jack directly into a visual, navigable consensus hallucination called cyberspace. Or…is cyberspace the novum? Hmmm. ​Children of Time: Spiders. Something about space spiders. ​Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? / Blade Runner: The invention of “replicants” who are more human than human, testing our capacity for empathy. The Ideological Novum ​Now we move from sociology to pure politics. This is where the Novum stops being a fun thought experiment and becomes a weaponized worldview. ​The Ideological Novum bends the physical rules of reality into Attack Mode. The author is essentially rigging the game. By inventing a specific physical or biological law, they create a universe where their personal political philosophy isn’t just an opinion – it’s a mandatory survival tactic. Look at China Miéville’s The City & the City. The Novum here is geographic and psychological: Two hostile cities occupy the exact same physical space, and the citizens are legally and mentally conditioned to “unsee” the other. If you acknowledge a building or a person from the other city, you are disappeared by a shadowy secret police. Miéville takes the very real, very mundane concept of urban inequality and class segregation and turns it into a physical, unbreakable law of physics. Or consider Robert A. Heinlein’s Starship Troopers, a novum that rewrites the social contract: Political authority and the right to vote can only be earned through grueling, highly lethal Federal Service. Heinlein rigs the universe to prove his point. In the world of the book, this isn’t fascism; it is the only logical way to build a stable, hyper-competent society that doesn’t collapse under its own weight. To be clear Starship Troopers doesn’t just contain this novum, the entire book exists to present the case for Heinlein’s idea. And power armour. Mieville and Heinlein are political ideologues who know exactly what they are doing. ​But then, you get the fascinating category of Accidental Ideologue. This is when an author creates a Novum that completely exposes their own unexamined, unconscious biases, usually while trying to write something else entirely. ​Consider Ernest Cline’s Ready Player One. Cline clearly thinks he is writing a punk-rock, anti-capitalist rebellion against a tyrannical mega-corporation. But look at his Novum: The OASIS, a fully immersive global VR utopia whose ownership is locked behind a Willy Wonka-style scavenger hunt of 1980s pop culture trivia. Cline’s Novum accidentally reveals a completely consumerist, neoliberal ideology. In this universe, the highest possible form of human achievement isn’t art, science, or empathy – it is furiously consuming and memorizing late-20th-century media. The “heroic” solution to this dystopia isn’t dismantling the horrifying techno-feudal monopoly; it’s just making sure the right kind of hyper-obsessive nerd is sitting on the corporate throne at the end. Klein accidentally wrote a glowing defense of late-stage techno-oligarchy, simply because his unexamined ideology is that pop-culture trivia makes you morally superior. ​When you start looking for the Ideological Novum, it is everywhere. Cue the politically charged montage: ​Foundation (Isaac Asimov): The Novum is Psychohistory—a mathematical formula that accurately predicts the future of large populations. It perfectly exposes Asimov’s unconscious, mid-century technocratic elitism: the belief that the masses are basically mathematical cattle, and true governance should be handed to a secretive elite of STEM majors doing advanced calculus. ​The Mote in God’s Eye (Larry Niven & Jerry Pournelle): An alien species biologically trapped in a cycle of unstoppable overpopulation, making diplomacy mathematically impossible and neatly justifying a pre-emptive, imperial defense stance. ​Brave New World (Aldous Huxley): The Bokanovsky Process allows for the biological mass-production of cloned, predestined embryos, physically manifesting the rigid British class system into inescapable genetics. ​Roadside Picnic (The Strugatsky Brothers): Aliens visit Earth, but they don’t conquer us or share wisdom. They just stop on the side of the cosmic highway, throw their incomprehensible, deadly trash out the window, and drive off. ​ Warhammer 40,000: Faster-than-light travel literally requires flying your ships through a dimension of pure, sentient Hell (The Warp), perfectly justifying the paranoid, hyper-fascistic, violently xenophobic Imperium of Man. The Negative Novum ​​Finally, we arrive at my personal favorite. The Negative Novum. ​This is the ultimate exercise in subtraction. The author doesn’t invent a magical new technology, a faster-than-light drive, or a biological mutation. Instead, they just walk up to the historical timeline, firmly grasp one absolutely crucial Jenga block, pull it out, and watch human civilization warp itself around the newly created void. ​The most brilliant modern execution of this is the Fallout franchise. ​If you ask a casual fan what makes Fallout special, they’ll probably point to the Power Armor, the Vaults, or the relentless 1950s doo-wop music playing over a nuclear wasteland. But all of that is just window dressing. The actual engine of the universe—the Negative Novum—is incredibly simple: The transistor and the microchip are never invented. Or, at least, they are invented centuries too late to matter. ​Look at the ripple effects of that one missing piece of silicon. Because miniaturization never happens, the Information Age is completely aborted. Computers remain massive, clunky, room-sized monoliths running on vacuum tubes and dangerous atomic fusion. Because technology is bulky and terrifying, the cultural zeitgeist gets permanently trapped in 1950s atomic-age optimism and Red Scare paranoia. There is no internet to globalize the culture. ​And finally, the conflict: Without the micro-efficiency of the transistor, the world rapidly and violently burns through its remaining fossil fuels and uranium. This technological dead-end leads directly to the Resource Wars, and eventually, the inevitable nuclear fire of 2077. ​The apocalypse, the Vault-Tec experiments, the super mutants – every single iconic piece of that multi-billion dollar IP stems entirely from the premise of not inventing a tiny computer chip. ​When you remove something fundamental, the world has to desperately compensate. ​Cue the montage of things we desperately miss: ​Children of Men: The complete, unexplained cessation of human fertility. There are no zombies or aliens; the apocalypse is just the quiet, devastating absence of a next generation. ​The Road: The total death of the biosphere and a permanently blocked sun. No intricate lore, just the complete absence of ecology and hope, leaving only gray ash and cannibalism. ​The Difference Engine: The microchip isn’t needed because Charles Babbage successfully built his steam-powered mechanical computer in the 1800s. The absence of the electrical age gives us Victorian cyber-punks. ​A Canticle for Leibowitz: The “Flame Deluge” purposefully wipes out all modern scientific knowledge. Humanity violently removes its own understanding of the universe, causing an artificial return to the Dark Ages where electrical blueprints are venerated as illuminated holy texts. ​Never Let Me Go: The quiet, polite removal of basic human rights—and the philosophical concept of a “soul”—from a specific underclass of artificially created organ-donor clones. ​Station Eleven: The Georgia Flu instantly wipes out the global power grid and most of humanity. It’s the sudden, overnight absence of global connectivity, reducing modern civilization to a traveling Shakespeare troupe in the ruins of the Midwest. The Exceptions of Why Star Wars is Fake Sci-Fi ​​If you really want to understand how a structural rule works, you have to look at the massive, billion-dollar properties that completely ignore it. And if you want to guarantee a thousand angry comments on your video—which the YouTube algorithm absolutely loves—you tell your audience the truth: ​Star Wars is not science fiction. ​Under the strict definition of the Novum, George Lucas didn’t write a sci-fi masterpiece; he wrote a high-fantasy fairy tale that just happens to have a very shiny, metallic coat of paint. ​Think about it. The Force is not a Novum. It is not a scientifically plausible point of divergence or a technological innovation that logically rewires the economics and politics of the galaxy. It is literally just magic. It is an ancient, mystical energy field that cares deeply about bloodlines, prophecies, and farm boys with grand destinies. ​A lightsaber isn’t a technological disruption; it’s just Excalibur with a D-cell battery strapped to the hilt. The Death Star isn’t a sociological thought experiment; it’s a dragon sitting in a dark tower waiting for the white knight to find its perfectly engineered, two-meter-wide weak spot. ​This is why Star Wars has more in common with Game of Thrones or Harry Potter than it does with Jurassic Park or The Left Hand of Darkness. They don’t operate on “Cognitive Estrangement.” They don’t want to make you uncomfortable about your present reality. They operate on Myth. They run on the Hero’s Journey, universal archetypes, and emotional resonance. ​And to be clear: That doesn’t make them bad. Space Fantasy is a glorious, highly lucrative genre. ​But if you are a writer sitting at your keyboard trying to build the next Matrix or the next Fallout, and you are using Star Wars as your structural blueprint, you are going to fail. You will end up with a messy, bloated universe full of lasers and aliens that doesn’t actually say anything. ​Because “fake” sci-fi just throws futuristic aesthetics at a standard fantasy plot. But real sci-fi fundamentally alters reality using the Novum Ahk-tually, LotR is science fiction (it can be argued) ​Before the international Tolkien Society puts a bounty on my head and sends a strike team of Oxford philologists to my house, let’s entertain a highly structural, slightly dangerous thought experiment. ​If we strictly define science fiction by the presence of a Novum—a technologically or scientifically plausible disruption that forces a society to react—you can make a surprisingly aggressive argument that The Lord of the Rings is actually a science fiction story disguised in a trench coat of Elven mythology. ​To see it, you have to look at what Tolkien was actually reacting to. He wasn’t just daydreaming about fairies. He was a traumatized combat veteran writing a direct, visceral response to the mechanized slaughter of World War I and the aggressive, soot-choked industrialization of the English countryside. ​With that context, look at the One Ring. ​If you strip away the glowing Elvish script, the Ring isn’t a mystical, magical trinket. It is a piece of technology. Specifically, it is a machine of mass surveillance and absolute industrial control. Sauron isn’t just a dark wizard; he is a hyper-industrialist trying to establish a global, mechanized monopoly. ​The Ring functions exactly like a Novum. It is a concentrated technological leap (forged in the fiery R&D labs of Mount Doom) that fundamentally distorts the reality of Middle-earth. Whoever holds the Ring gains access to a network of absolute power, but the “technology” is so advanced and inherently corrupting that it overrides the operator’s free will, turning them into a slave of the machine itself. ​Look at Saruman. He doesn’t fall to “dark magic.” He falls to the allure of industry. He literally tears down the ancient forests to build foundries, replacing nature with “a mind of metal and wheels.” He is essentially a 19th-century robber baron who discovered the efficiency of strip-mining and genetically engineered super-soldiers (the Uruk-hai). ​Therefore, the entire plot of The Lord of the Rings isn’t a traditional heroic fantasy quest to secure a magical boon. It is a desperate, apocalyptic black-ops mission to decommission a weapon of mass destruction. The Fellowship is trying to un-invent the nuclear bomb because they realize their society is not morally equipped to wield that level of technological power. ​So, yes, it has wizards and goblins. But structurally? It operates on the exact same engine of “cognitive estrangement” as the best sci-fi. It takes the real-world horrors of the Industrial Revolution and the mechanization of warfare, wraps them up in a Novum called the One Ring, and forces the audience to look at their own factories and war machines with a deep, creeping sense of dread. Wait, cognitive what-now? Oh right I didn’t tell you yet. Woops! THREE: The Ultimate Novum (And How to Wield It) ​The Final Boss of Sci-Fi Theory ​Now it is time to meet the Final Boss of sci-fi theory. We’ve talked about the blockbusters, we’ve validated the literary heavyweights, and we’ve thoroughly alienated Star Wars fandom. Now, we drop the actual academic payload. ​In the 1970s, a Yugoslavian-born scholar named Darko Suvin officially coined the term “Novum.” Suvin was essentially an academic who desperately needed a rigorous, scholarly way to explain to his university colleagues that reading about time machines and android sex bots was actually a profound intellectual pursuit. ​But Suvin didn’t just name the tool. He identified exactly what the tool was built to do. He argued that the ultimate goal of science fiction is to achieve a psychological impact called Cognitive Estrangement. ​The Mirror, Not the Crystal Ball ​”Cognitive Estrangement” sounds like a legal defense for a messy divorce, but it is actually the secret engine of scifi. ​Let’s break the biggest myth in science fiction right now: scifi is not supposed to predict the future. It isn’t a crystal ball, and honestly, whenever it tries to be, it is usually hilariously wrong. ​The goal of a great Novum isn’t to show you what the year 2300 looks like. The goal is to take your present reality, alter one massive variable, and force you to look at your own society with fresh, uncomfortable, alienated eyes. ​”Cognition” means the premise is rational and scientific—it’s not magic. “Estrangement” means it makes you feel like an alien in your own home. It takes the mundane absurdity of our real-world economics, our politics, or our social norms, and makes them look utterly bizarre by contrast. ​The Ultimate Novum: The Monolith ​If Cognitive Estrangement is the ultimate goal, what is the most perfect, undistilled example of a Novum ever put on screen? ​It isn’t a time machine. It isn’t a cloned dinosaur. ​It is a featureless black slab of geometry from 1968. ​Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey features the absolute Ultimate Novum: The Monolith. Look at this thing. It does absolutely nothing. It has no buttons, no user interface, no glowing exhaust ports for a farm boy to shoot a torpedo into. It is the pure, terrifying, mathematical embodiment of the “New Thing.” ​And look at the ripple effect. When it drops into the prehistoric dirt, it doesn’t hand the apes a laser gun. It just provides the exact amount of Cognitive Estrangement necessary for an ape to realize that a femur bone can be used to crush a skull. It is the simultaneous birth of technology and murder. ​Fast forward a few million years. Humanity finds another one buried on the moon. Again, it does nothing but emit a signal. But its mere existence forces humanity into a new leap of cognitive estrangement, triggering the terrifying leap into deep space and the creation of artificial intelligence. The Monolith is the Ultimate Novum because it demands nothing but evolution. It forces the characters—and the audience—to instantly discard their previous understanding of reality. ​The Power-Up ​Which brings us to the final power-up. If you are a writer sitting at your desk right now, listen closely. Stop. Worldbuilding. Start world changing. ​Most amateur writers are permanently stuck at Level One worldbuilding. They spend four hundred hours mapping out the tax codes of a galactic empire, but their characters are just 21st-century middle managers complaining about space-capitalism. Their Novum doesn’t actually touch the human condition. It causes zero estrangement. ​Stop trying to build a universe from the top down. Put the worldbuilding bible away. ​Find your Monolith. ​Find the one, singular, disruptive idea that violently shatters the status quo. Drop it into the dead center of your story, and logically map out exactly how human politics, religion, and relationships must mutate just to survive the shockwave. ​Because when you use the Novum correctly, you aren’t just writing about a fantasy world. You are changing the real world. You are taking our ordinary cognition and estranging it to show us our world as a strange new world. You are writing the modern mythos. ​So pick your one big lie. And imagine harder. Listen to the podcast audio here

  • April 14 · 13 min

    The First Dystopia

    We by Yevgeny Zamyatin is a novel written at the beginning of the future. It’s hard to remember today, after Logan’s Run, The Handmaid’s Tale and Hunger Games made “dystopia” an entertainment genre, but when Yevgeny Zamyatin was writing in the early 1920s, it was only beginning to dawn on humanity just how bad the future might be. Or how splendid. Become a member to watch to full video Members get full access to all posts and videos SubscribeSubmitting form Log in Or watch on youtube https://youtu.be/gZHF0dP5_GI Zamyatin’s science fiction novel invented the future we now think of as dystopia. A lone individual awakens to the oppressive system they are trapped within and attempts a rebellion. Sometimes they achieve liberation, but mostly they…do not. The details change, the dystopian future remains the same. For most of human history there was no future. There was a date at a point ahead in time. But that date would be much like this date. Time was cyclical. Kings came and went, but there was always a king. The apocalypse or armageddon might strike, but those brought the end, not the future. The future needs progress. Progress needs technology. And technology needs science. With the explosion of science and technology during what we call the Industrial revolution progress began to accelerate to rates perceptible within a human lifetime. And then far faster. The future came into focus. Through science fiction. Philosophers, intellectuals and scientists began to speculate on what the human future might look like. From Johannes Kepler’s Somnium to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, science fiction made new myths for new times. At the heart of these speculations was the belief that the future could be made better with science and technology. Early science fiction like Edward Bellamy’s Looking Backward, Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland and A New Amazonia by Elizabeth Burgoyne Corbet imagined futures of high technology and human equality, made possible with science and technology. Utopias were the standard for early science fiction. It may surprise us now but optimistic visions were once the scifi standard. Such stories caught the imagination of ordinary people and gave birth to “utopian socialism”. The dreams of early utopian socialism were bound up with the experience of early industrial capitalism. The workers in the factories could see the abundance their machines created. If that abundance were just shared fairly, not given away to the capitalists, a better world would surely be possible? These dreams were given a basis in logic and reason with the “historical materialism” of Karl Marx. In his critique of capitalism, Das Kapital, Marx claimed a scientific model of human progress, persuading millions that the future could be shaped by mankind as a better world, with the power of “scientific socialism”. So, as Yevgeny Zamyatin wrote We in 1921/22, he was reflecting on the decades-long dream of both utopian and scientific socialism that had suddenly become a reality. The chaos of World War One had sparked the revolution in Russia, and the communist Bolsheviks lead by Vladimir Lenin were, at least in name, intent on making the dream of socialist utopia a reality. The future long dreamed of had finally begun. And went instantly and horrifyingly wrong. Yevgeny Zamyatin was a revolutionary against the Russian Tsars who was arrested, tortured and imprisoned multiple times. We was written by a committed revolutionary to the socialist cause, who came very quickly to see that the revolution was going to succeed in creating a scientific socialist utopia. And that it would instantly become a dystopia. We was rejected for publication then became the first book banned by the Soviet state in the early 1920s. It was published in America in 1924 and from then on Zamyatin was persecuted by the Glavlit censorship board, until his exile in 1931 and then death in 1937. But even after its US publication, We did not find an enthusiastic readership. The primary audience of educated elites and intellectuals who might have read and promoted We were still too infatuated with visions of scientific socialism to entertain any critique of the socialist utopia. It was not until the wake of World War 2, as the US and Europe faced a heavily militarised Soviet Union, that the Western world found it needed reasons to hate its former ally, and We was “discovered”. It’s now well known that George Orwell’s 1984 was to some extent influenced by We. Orwell thought it “not a work of the first order” but “certainly an unusual one”. Orwell’s assessment of We is both accurate and biased. Its true that We is a didactic, one sided argument against scientific socialism. Orwell in 1984 sought to critique the Societ Union while retaining his argument first articulated in Animal Farm, that the socialist dream was possible, but had been subverted by the “pigs” of the oligarchy. It’s also unclear just how much of an influence We was on 1984. Orwell’s more direct influences were HG Well’s socialist utopias like Things To Come, which Orwell perceived as proto-fascistic, and Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, which Orwell believed must have been influenced by We. But Zamyatin’s We was, inarguably, the book which defined the dystopia of totalitarian control as the primary vision of socialism in the Western imagination. The dreams of utopian socialism were displaced by the dystopia of totalitarian socialism. It’s no exaggeration to say that We was the book which destroyed the socialist dream. So the value of We to today’s reader is in the asking and answering of this question: Is the socialist dream of a better world fundamentally delusional and corrupt? Or has it only been corrupted by the pigs? Zamyatin weaves three symbolic threads into his fiction which can help us to find answers. The first is the One State. Those early utopian socialist scifi visions had tended to imagine a socialist future of decentralisation and anarchy. But Marx’s scientific socialism believed the state, controlled by the “dictatorship of the proletariat”, was the only institution powerful enough to make the socialist dream a reality Zamyatin was among the first to see that the state, acting in the name of the people, would simply replace traditional social hierarchy with crushing social conformity. We’s central critique of socialism is right there in the title. If you’ve heard right wing reactionaries like Jordan Peterson rail against “collectivism” then We is where that all started. Solzhenitsyn did it better, but Zamyatin did it first. The Green Wall in We is a transparent barrier that separates the people of the One State from nature. We moderns in our air conditioned condos and hermetically sealed shopping malls can instantly feel the pang of this separation. Utopian socialists of today, captured in the visions of Solarpunk, dream of an idealised return to nature. Industry is now the enemy of socialism. But for the largely peasant peoples of pre-Industrial Russia the idea of a world where you didn’t have to fight nature for every scrap was a major appeal of socialism. Zamyatin saw that scientific socialism would leverage our impossible desire to escape nature as a tool of control. To escape hunger we would accept industrial agriculture. To escape sickness we would accept the medical industrial complex. To tame nature, more and more control would be centralised into the One State. Zamyatin couldn’t have known the strange echoes his starship Integral would decades later conjure for readers. Construction of the Integral is led by We’s central character, the snappily named D-503. Combined with the Integral’s mission to “subjugate to the grateful yoke of reason” all other life in the universe, it’s hard not to imagine the ship as a vast…cube Of course it’s possible that the writers of Star Trek :The Next Generation were directly inspired by Zamyatin when writing conceiving Borg and its mission to “assimilate all life” in the face of which “resistance is futile”. But it’s equally likely that the writers of Star Trek, when they decided to parody socialism in that tv show, arrived independently at the same conclusion as Zamyatin. That the logical fate of a society based on scientific socialism would be absolute totalitarian submission of all life to the collective. And to the machine. Science fiction has warmed of one future again and again. From EM Forster’s The Machine Stops to Arnie as The Terminator. From the Death Star to The Matrix, science fiction warns us of the machine. The machine dominating and controlling the human is the central image of 20th century science fiction. For Zamyatin this machinic domination is an expression of the terrors of the collective, and the inevitable outcome of the attempt to build a socialist utopia with the power of science and technology. But. Here in the capitalist Western world of the 21st century, swaddled in the concrete and steel of our cities, consuming the products of fully automated dark factories, being behaviour shaped by algorithms while AI automates our jobs, as we watch androids dance bebop… …we can hardly claim to be raging against the machine. Which somewhat cracks apart Zamyatin’s critique of utopian socialism. The pathologies Zamyatin identifies in socialism — the crushing power of the state, the separation from nature, the Borg-like conformity, and the transformation of the human into the machine — would all manifest in every other political system as the 20th century unfolded. If Zamyatin’s We falls short of the greatest science fiction it is because its critique of scientific socialism blames our utopian dreams for the dystopian failings of science and technology. A hundred years later it seems clearer and clearer that the failure of our utopias was not caused only by the hyper-collectivism of socialism and too much We, but also by the erosion and collapse of our societies caused by hyper-individualism, a sickness of far, far too much I. Listen to the podcast audio

  • April 13 · 34 min

    Terminator 2 isn’t only the greatest action movie

    Terminator is an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie Arnold’s physique is the star of the film The progressive decay of the Body into the Machine is his co-star With the special effects that animated the Terminator as best supporting actor Watch the full video essay as a member Members get full access to all videos and posts SubscribeSubmitting form Log in Or watch on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NfbNARASn9Y Imagine if Ron Perlman had passed his audition for Terminator? You can’t. The movie is unimaginable without its leading actor. Terminator’s leading actress gets stuck doing what leading actresses do in psycho-thriller movies Scream. Runaway. Scream some more. It’s true that Gale Ann Hurd and James Cameron made a movie about a waitress who saves the world by calling it Terminator and casting Arnie But its only by the end of Terminator we see who Sarah Connor is going to become. And get the hint that Terminator 2 is going to be a Linda Hamilton movie There are only two Terminator movies Sure, you may think there are more movies and books and games in the “franchise”, but these were all sent back by future Hollywood to terminate the Terminator when all the time paradoxes are resolved there are only two Terminator movies. Terminator 1 and 2 are a unified by paradox A saviour who sends his best soldier back to become the father of the saviour Who carries a photo of the mother, that won’t be taken until after he dies at a desert gas station as a storm comes in And words of fate that cycle in time Skynet sets humanities fate “in a moment” John Connor’s message to his mother is “the future is not set” But when the young John repeats this to his Terminator protector the idea has developed “there is no fate but what we make” Then as she decides to kill one man to save mankind, Sarah carves No Fate into wood And we the audience are confronted with the question that Terminator carves into space and time Is the fate of humanity determined by the iron cage of time? Or can we determine our own fate…with the power of our will? # I’m not saying there isn’t a lot to like about Terminator 2 These bikers Guns & Roses This kid That’s right kid fuck the cops The famous “morphing” effect developed for The Abyss that announced the new era of CGI in cinema and…has not aged well in places…but still looks great in others Death by milk carton This mini-gun somehow killing zero cops And this dude hyperventilating Arnie is back. Only 7 years have passed since Terminator in 1984, but when Terminator 2 released in 1991 it felt like more Partly because Arnie is a little older and the physique is a little less sublime And we the audience are starting to notice that the impassive Germanic persona that made the T101 so terrifying is…basically…all the Austrian Oak has got Edward Furlong as an androgynous young John Conner is excellent. Why the girl’s haircut? Mostly because its the 90s, but also because audiences have less empathy for young men? But let’s be clear. Terminator 2 is a masterpiece of action sci-fi cinema. Maybe even the greatest action movie ever. Good job James Cameron. But what really sets fire to the cinema screen as we watch Judgement Day incinerate Los Angeles is Linda Hamilton’s performance The “Strong Female Character” is such a Hollywood cliché that the trope is now widely mocked and derided And is nothing new The archetype of the young, athletic, BEAUTIFUL, female fighter is as old as story itself. Just take a look at Artemis the huntress, among the most popular Olympian gods And you’ll find the huntress archetype repeating in every mythos over the millennia right up to Wonder Woman 1984 and and a bunch of other sexy young female warrior types Because men have always liked watching hot babes with spears. Even the most misogynist male is totally fine with chicks in armored bikinis But what would a woman who had really trained with mercenaries, who is raising her boy to save the world, and who crushed a fucking T101, actually BE like? Oh, yes, that’s it She’d look like this crazy b*tch # John Connor’s mom is heavily foreshadowed as we follow the young messiah through working class Los Angeles We the cinema audience for T2 remember Linda Hamilton as the nice young woman from T1. And we’ve watched her in Beauty & the Beast. But she’s enigmatic, a elusive star who rarely appears on screen. It’s been trailed in the media – this is the 90s and entertainment news media is entirely owned by the same corporations that own the movie studios – that Hamilton has been paid an unprecedented amount for a female star, a substantial chunk of T2s historic $100M dollar budget. And that Linda got fit for the role. # Sarah Connor mark ii is not a sex symbol. Hamilton manages to capture the kind of vulnerable toughness we see in female MMA fighters. Women who can fight because they had to be tougher than their tough life. We’re going to catch up with Sarah as the two Terminators play cat and mouse. This is a lot of screen time for an action movie to spend building character. And we literally get a psych-eval of our female hero. Through the work of this creep doctor who thinks he is doing good but is really on a powertrip. Because if Terminator 1 was about a waitress escaping that abusive ex. Terminator 2 is about a single mom trying to get back to her kid. James Cameron’s great movies, back before he got lost making Avatars, spend.a lot of time on working class characters. The lower decks literal underclass who drown in Titanic. The blue collar Colonial marines sent to their doom in Aliens. The oil rig crew in the Abyss. Because while the corporate sociopaths at White Star Line, Weland Yutani and Cyberdine are making the torment nexus to boost profits for the shareholder class. It’s ordinary working people who end up having to save humanity from itself. Because its a working waitress who has the strength of will to show us that the future is not set. # Action sequences today Really suck I’m going to go a step further than Like Stories Of Old’s excellent video essay on the modern action set piece. Because I remember when John Woo’s Hard Boiled made it out of Hong Kong cinema into the West. I watched Chow Yun Fat pull the trigger until his hands cramped in one balletic action sequence after another over and over again And I remember how exciting this action hybrid of martial arts and gunplay was compared to the standard John Wayne shooting some guy in the gut who just fell over with a GRRARK! I went to the cinema FIVE TIMES to see this new art form reach its apogee in The Matrix But all good things get done death. I’ll fess up, I’ve only seen two John Wick movies. I gave up during the crescendo of Wick 2 because as soon as they had to tell us how strong willed John Wick is I knew these films would never really get the one thing essential for any great action sequence The one thing without which, however fine the choreography or bloody the gore, action can never pack a punch Now, absolutely, along the way, martial gunplay has produced some spectacularly good action set pieces. The final bank robbery from Michael Mann’s Heat. Every fight in Leon. Heck, I’ll even credit the road fight from Winter Soldier. But if I have to pick ONE greatest action sequence of all time it’s Linda Hamilton escaping a super-max using only a paper clip, a syringe and the thing today’s action extravaganzas just don’t get the thing that drives Terminator 2 through one powerful action sequence after another sheer fucking force of will # The greatest action sequences are demonstrations of human will power most of us most of the time are mere mortals but every now and again we see a mortal driven by the power of will Diego Maradona may have claimed it was the hand of god that gave that dirty lying cheat the world cup, but even us Brits have to concede it was sheer will power that made him such a great footballer or that powered Michael Jordan every time his feet left the ground but it’s not just athletes what keeps a paramedic pumping a chest until life comes back how does a poor kid get through four years of college while working while the rich kids drop out why does a mother work shitty jobs year after year for kids who will never be able to repay her every day, in every walk of life, we see the power of the human will this power is rare, and real, and it’s the thing that makes us human and we humans love to see its story told but many people want to us to believe this thing does not exist that there can be no free will in a universe determined by time Human will is not free It’s very fucking expensive As we follow Sarah, John and Arnold into the dessert we learn the price Sarah has paid for her strength of will Free will is one of today’s most frequent pop- sci talking points. Biologists like Robert Sapolsky present empirical evidence against the possibility, while modern gurus like Sam Harris tell us free will is impossible in a deterministic reality. Determinism argues that reality is a machine. From the quantum scale to the galactic and beyond, the future is determined by the now which is determined by the past. Inescapable chains of causality that form the iron cage of time. But the question of free will is very far from settled. Free will isn’t a question for science, it’s a question for philosophers, and the philosophers do not agree. And. Look. Intellectuals and elites have always liked the idea that reality, and their privileged place within it, are predetermined. By fate. By god. By evolution. By time. It’s very convenient. And they’ve never really had to fight against reality. But ordinary people earn our will at great expense. So as Sarah Connor rockets out of the desert to begin her mission, is she just a super-determined actor in fate she cannot change? Or has Sarah Connor earned the will to save us all? Of course there is another iconic action movie, also by James Cameron, about a strong willed woman Sigourney Weaver in Aliens is another iconic mother saving her child and she’s pretty damn great Aliens is a story about the human conflict with the alien, or the other Terminator is…something else Brad Fiedel’s theme expresses the central conflict of T2 that melody in the high register is Sarah Conner, mother and hope of humankind but that thumping bass, repetitive, grinding that’s the thing Sarah Connor is fighting against the Machine sent back from the future to terminate us all # The machine is the central image of science fiction. The Matrix. Blade Runner. 2001. Neuromancer. Robocop. Even the Death Star. It would be easier to list the great science fiction that is not about the torturous relationship between Man and Machine. But while James Cameron denies it, and it required an out of court settlement to get the credit, the works of Harlan Ellison are a clear influence on Terminator. Ellison’s short story I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream is the origin of Skynet, about a supercomputer built for “defence” that awakens and destroys humanity. And Ellison’s script for the Outer Limits episode Soldier introduces the traveller from an apocalyptic future travelling back to our present through time But Terminator takes time and the machine to a truly original and new place. Until Terminator the machine was the creation of men, a manifestation of our hubris and pride and the self destructive nature of our will But the machine that returns through time to make itself is no longer man’s creation but its own. We aren’t creating the machine in our image the machine is recreating us in its image. Sarah has already made the decision to kill Miles Dyson the first shot is already fired before she sees the man’s child in the firing line this is the basic definition of character in drama…how do we respond to events Sarah responds by going full auto and then reloading the music riff and the call back to Terminator 1 make it clear Sarah Conor has become the Terminator, who absolutely will not stop she has become the machine this is the greatest performance in action cinema as we see Sarah Connor find the will power to resist the machine Terminator is a mythos that emerges from our fear of a world dominated by the machine. The machines of the industrial revolution, then the machines of the information age. Terminator is the story of our fear that determinism is true, free will does not exist, that reality is an empty grinding mechanism and that we are just “biological machines”. But all of this is determined by time. It’s the causal chain of one event after another that forges the iron cage of time. And Terminator is a story built on the paradox of time. The Grandfather paradox tells you only one thing about time. Not that you can kill Elon Musk’s grandfather to stop the racist Nazi ever existing. But that the model of time which gives rise to the paradox is broken The door of the iron cage of time is unlocked and a waitress, with a shotgun, three billion souls to save, and crazy bitch will power can kick it open Listen to the audio commentary here

  • April 7 · 26 min

    HG Wells vs Vladimir Lenin

    The year is 1920. The Empires of Europe have spent the last half decade blowing each other up with bombs, guns and heavy artillery. As World War 1 burns itself out, men who survived the fighting begin to wonder if a better world, a world without empires and wars, is possible. These working class men return home to grinding poverty and the brutal conditions of factory work. Many still do not even have the vote. For seventy years, since that famous manifesto was published, a spectre had haunted Europe, the spectre of communism. In 1918 soldiers returning to Russia joined a revolution and pulled down the empire of the Tsars, and established the first communist state. Men across Europe begin to believe that their dreams of a better world can become real. That the old order of empires and war could be torn down and in its place could be made a new order. Become a member to watch the full video Members get full access to all videos and posts SubscribeSubmitting form Log in Or on YouTube https://youtu.be/TFIRYo0h-ZU This is the story of a meeting between two men whose dreams of a new world order had a powerful impact on the 20th century. Vladimir Ilyvich Lenin was the most famous revolutionary leader in history. Aged 17 Lenin saw his brother executed for a plot to kill the Tsar Alexander III. Lenin dedicated his life to revenge, joining the revolutionaries and ultimately leading them to power in 1918. Lenin’s climb to power has all the drama of a Tolstoy novel. Bank robberies, exhile, imprisonment, intrigue, civil war and murder. While the facts are disputed, it’s very likely that Lenin took his revenge by ordering the death by firing squad of the Tsar Nicholas II and his family. Lenin was the definition of a brutal dictator. The Red Terror of 1918 to 1922 was a purge of hundreds of thousands of Russian military officers and bureaucrats. And purge means Lenin had all those people killed. Support Science Fiction with Damien Walter as a member Access to all videos, essays and community Join Here But Lenin also proved a dynamic leader of Russia, after centuries of stagnation under the Tsars, beginning the nation’s full industrialisation and electrification. Great leader? Or mass murderer? Either way, Vladimir Lenin carved his name into history, as one of the men who shaped the new order of the modern world. The man coming to meet Lenin, who will also have a powerful influence over the new world, is wait a science fiction writer?? H.G. Herbert George to his friends Wells As HG Wells journeyed across Moscow to his meeting with Lenin, he noted changes to the Russian capital. There were “many traces of the desperate street fighting” from the 1918 civil war that brought Lenin and his Bolsheviks to power. The deep poverty of pre-revolutionary Moscow was, as yet, unchanged. Beggars were as common as ever. The revolutionary impact of a sign reading “Religion Is The Opium” near St Basils cathedral was lessened by the brutal fact that most Russian people still could not read. 1920 was HG Wells second visit to Russia. His first had been in 1914, before the revolution. Both visits were made possible by Wells’ friendship with the Russian writer Maxim Gorky, as would be his third and final trip to Moscow…but we’ll get to that. Wells observed darker events still at the Kremlin. What had been under the Tsars a palace open to the public “much as Windsor castle” was now surrounded with police checkponts. To meet Lenin, Wells had to be cleared through layers of bureaucrats and functionaries, that might be necessary for Lenin’s safety, but did not bode well for the dictator’s connection to the ordinary people. The Lenin that awaited Wells was a “personality entirely different from anything I had expected to meet” But the HG Wells who entered Lenin’s office is also not quite the science fiction writer we remember today. Today HG Wells is remembered as the writer of science fiction stories like The Time Machine, The Island of Doctor Moreau, The Invisible Man and The War of the Worlds Wells is often called “the father of science fiction” But HG Wells almost certainly never heard the term “science fiction” and there is no record of him ever using it Science fiction came into public usage after the magazine editor Hugo Gernback coined the term Scientifiction, which his readers simplified as science fiction. So how did HG Wells describe his own books and stories? In a letter to his friend and fellow novelist Henry James, Wells stated that “literature, like architecture, is a means, it has a use”. In an interview early in his career with the Pall Mall Gazette, Wells gave a clue to what he believed that use should be. “My stories…are the expression of a socialistic, unbelieving person in revolt against the limitations set about his life.” That revolt lead Wells to a lifelong commitment to left wing politics, including his membership of the Fabian society, and a belief in the values of socialism. HG Wells *was* the father of SF Not just science fiction, but socialist fiction # HG Wells was writing at a revolutionary time for the human understanding of the universe and everything. Science was tearing down old myths and showing a reality stranger than any known by religion. We lived in a vast galaxy of stars, within an infinite universe stretching billions of years back in deep time, and powerful evolutionary forces that had given birth to human life. Wells was among the first to see the new reality revealed by science, and to tell new stories, new myths, for the age of science. But if men were not the creation of God above, but the product of forces of evolution, surely the way men lived together, human civilization, could and should evolve also? And the civilization HG Wells believed we could and should evolve towards was socialism. THE TIME MACHINE It’s hard to express the bold originality of The Time Machine when it was published in 1895. The very idea of a time machine, that we now take for granted, did not exist until Wells invented it. The Time Machine developed from Wells 1888 story The Chronic Argonauts. Decades of imagination went into creating a new conception of deep time and human evolution. The Time Traveller journeys 800,000 years into our future, a measure of time enough that humanity has evolved into two distinct species. But the Eloi and Morlocks aren’t only an illustration of future human evolution. The Eloi are a pampered elite. But every now again, the Morlock working class rise up, and eat the Eloi. HG Wells saw the socialist revolutions of the 20th century coming. THE ISLAND OF DOCTOR MOREAU Darwinian evolution had also opened Wells eyes to the possibilities of genetics. Long before genes were discovered, Well’s speculated on the potential for the genetic manipulation of life. Human life. The Beast Folk created by Doctor Moreau may seem tame to us today, but Wells was among the first to grasp the horrifying possibilities of genetic manipulation. And to ask whether humans can ever escape our genes. Are humans eternally subject to our nature? Or can humanity raise ourselves up from our origins as a species? It’s the question posed by Doctor Moreau, and at the heart of socialist ideologies in the 20th century. THE INVISIBLE MAN The Invisible Man was likely inspired by the Tyndal effect, that light becomes visible only when refracted through the atmosphere. By manipulating light refraction, Griffin, the only name given to the novel’s protagonist, becomes invisible. And uses that invisibility in a failed attempt to otherthrow British society. HG Wells understood the invisibility of working class men. A long childhood sickness turned the young Wells into a well read and imaginative boy. But aged thirteen Wells was indentured as a drapers assistant in Windsor. Wells’ active mind made this drudgery unbearable, and shaped his hatred of the British class system. Working class men in Britain would not be fully enfranchised until 1918. Working men were, for most of Wells’ life, socially irrelevant and invisible. But it was those men, as they began to read and learn about politics, who powered the socialist revolutions of the 20th century. WAR OF THE WORLDS War of the Worlds made HG Wells world famous. Again, when alien invasions are today such a cliche of science fiction, it’s hard to remember what an incredible conceptual leap Wells’ story of Martians coming to Earth truly was. War of the Worlds is also the novel where HG Wells throws down the gauntlet to call out British imperialism. And Britain…didn’t really notice. War of the Worlds was a massive bestseller in late Victorian Britain, and almost nobody noticed it was a polemical depiction of British colonialism. The Martians are the British, and the territory being colonised is…Woking, Horsell Common, and the Home Counties. Which are called the Home Counties because all the wealth of the British invasions of other lands flowed back home to them. The heart of Empire, itself invaded. War of the Worlds was sold as a new take on “Invasion Literature” like The Battle of Dorking, a reactionary and racist genre that imagined Britain invaded by the very “natives” the Empire colonised. But Wells subverts the genre. His Martians have the technological superiority, and the “cool and unsympatheic” intellect of the British themselves. And the Martians, as so often happened to British Imperial invasion forces, are defeated by sickness. Malaria defeated multiple British invasion forces. A common cold stops the Martians. Wells’ early novels made him world famous, and developed many of the core ideas, from time travel to alien invasions, that became “science fiction”. But they also show us the deep injustices of Wells’ world. An imperial world of colonial armies that murdered people of other races. A capitalist world of factories and sweatshops in which men, women and children were compelled to work. A world that would very soon tear itself apart in world war. HG Wells dreamed of making a better world, of building a new world order, with the power of socialism. “Those swarms of blacks, and brown, and dirty-white, and yellow people … will have to go” So, these words written by Wells in 1901 are doubly perplexing, seeming to contradict all that came before, and would come after, in the dreams of HG Wells. You will find these words quoted to accuse Wells of racism in numerous articles, from Christian creationists, to liberal news sources. Let’s double click on this and give it our full attention. The quote is taken from chapter 9 of Wells first non-fiction book ANTICIPATIONS – OF THE REACTION OF MECHANICAL AND SCIENTIFIC PROGRESS UPON HUMAN LIFE AND THOUGHT Anticipations is a *description* of the future Wells sees ahead, and that world’s reaction to technological change, not a *prescription* of the future Wells wants to see. In chapter 9 Wells describes a New Republic that fuses technological development with a continued religious belief in God. Wells was a believer in science, not religion. The New Republic isn’t the civilization Wells wants. It’s the one he thinks most likely. This New Republic, Wells predicts, with its distorted fusion of science and religion, will lead to the gradual elimination of all other peoples. The brute accusation of racism against HG Wells, based on a single quote removed from its context, does not stand up. But. HG Wells believed in science and technology. And the power of science to make a better world. And better humans. This lead Wells to consider the possibilities of eugenics, briefly, and then to reject them. But however brief that dalliance, it highlights a profound weakness in Wells thinking. Beginning with Anticipations and continuing through his fiction and non-fiction including A Modern Utopia (1905), The World Set Free (1914) and The Open Conspiracy (1928) Wells made the argument for a World State. A scientific, technological world state that would use the power of technology to bring peace to the world. In The Shape of Things To Come (1933) filmed as Things To Come (1936) by Alexander Korda, Wells imagines the rise of his world state. and the resistance to it from old empires and religious demagogues. Science triumphs over superstition, socialism defeats imperialism, and technology takes humanity to the stars. But watching Raymond Massey deliver the closing monologue of Things To Come having watched the “world state” bomb the world into “peace” HG Wells future world state looks unmistakably totalitarian In 1940, at the darkest moment of World War 2, as the old world order is destroying itself H G Wells published his detailed vision for a scientific world state The New World Order So the HG Wells who walks into the Kremlin in the year 1920 is a thinker with a deep belief in the powers of science and socialism to reorder the world. But he’s about to meet a man with a very different vision of that same dream. “Lenin is not a writer; his(…)shrill little pamphlets and papers(…)display hardly anything of the real Lenin mentality” “I had come expecting to struggle with a doctrinaire Marxist. I found nothing of the sort.” “Our talk was held together by two motifs. One was from me to him: ‘What do you think you are making of Russia? What is the state you are trying to create?’ The other was from him to me: ‘Why does not the social revolution begin in England? Why are you not destroying Capitalism and establishing the Communist State?” HG Wells recorded his meeting with Vladimir Lenin in a chapter of Russia In The Shadows titled The Dreamer in the Kremlin. And their conversation, while cordial on the surface, is a fight between two visions of a new order for the world. Lenin was a revolutionary socialist, communist, and Marxist. He believed in a material, determinist progression of history, first into a stage of socialist dictatorship, then to a communist utopia. But Lenin also believed the socialist stage could only be realised by a revolutionary vanguard, led by Lenin and his Bolsheviks. Lenin never says it, but the implication of everything he does say is…why isn’t Wells at the vanguard of such a revolution? In response, Wells tells Lenin that his revolution is doomed. Wells, as a member of the Fabian society, believes in what we today call social democracy, the gradual improvement of people’s lives through state policies like welfare and public health. “The towns will get very much smaller,” Lenin admitted. “They will be different. Yes, quite different.” We can imagine Wells raising an eyebrow at this admission from Lenin. Lenin is planning radical changes, but he’s also only realising as they speak that this will destroy Russias urban towns and cities. Communism is being made up as the revolution goes. The crucial moment in their meeting comes when Lenin, after some prodding from Wells, admits that “The peasants in the other provinces, selfish and illiterate, will not know what is happening until their turn comes…” And as they talk Lenin leans in conspiratorially. The workers, who the revolution was meant to help, have already become the enemy of the revolution’s vanguard. But it’s the response of Wells and Lenin after their meeting that says the moat. Wells damns Lenin with faint praise. The leader of a great nation is never happy to be described as a “dreamer”. Lenin, as reported by Leon Trotsky, flys into a rage and dismisses Wells “What a bourgeois he is! He is a Philistine!” Lenin’s revolutionary socialism has taken a beating, not from a capitalist opponent, but from a competing vision of a socialist world order. In the decades that followed, Vladimir Lenin’s revolutionary socialism would lead to disaster. Wherever socialist revolutions emerged they sparked mass murder and mass starvation. None produced the fabled communist utopia. The social democracy envisioned by HG Wells became a reality. Socialist reforms were implemented in the United States after the Great Depression, and in Europe in the wake of WW2. By the mid 20th century social democracy *was* the new order of the Western world. Which makes the various conspiracy theories about a New World Order ironic. They’re like predicting a coming conspiracy by McDonalds to lower cardiac health with fast food. It already happened, and was never a conspiracy The world order of globalisation and internationalism has already been and gone. The new world order is today, like this ragged first edition of Wells book, more of a used world order. And that social democractic, liberal world order did exactly what Wells predicted. We tried to bomb the world into peace. Not with peace gas, but with “smartbombs”. We tried to make a better world with science and technology alone, and today those technologies look worryingly totalitarian. # Oh, and Wells’ third and final trip to Russia? Was in 1930 to meet with the General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union Joseph Stalin Their interview was fully documented by Wells. You can find it, along with other links and the script for this essay in the show notes for channel members. These videos are made possible by members, thank you to all of you. Wells vs Stalin isn’t as revealing as Wells vs Lenin. But there is one absolutely essential exchange. Stalin: …what is first required for a long voyage is a big ship. What is a navigator without a ship? An idle man. Wells: The big ship is humanity, not a class. Stalin: You, Mr. Wells, evidently start out with the assumption that all men are good. I, however, do not forget that there are many wicked men. I do not believe in the goodness of the bourgeoisie. Stalinism wasn’t a new order, but just a return to the old order of empires and wars, violence and scapegoating. The old empires blamed the poor, not Stalin’s new empire blamed the rich. HG Wells made many mistakes in his vision for a scientific world state. But to be fair to the world order he helped to imagine, it has just about avoided nuclear apocalypse for the last 70 years. Now as we watch that global order collapse we’re left with a huge challenge. Will we collapse back to the old order if empires and wars? Or can we imagine a better world order? Listen to the podcast audio here

  • April 6 · 21 min

    A note for listeners of the Science Fiction podcast

    We are in a war on podcasting. Podcasts are one of the last survivors of Web1.0, the era that gave us cool things like Wikipedia and the Blogosphere, back when “information wanted to be free”. Today information wants to generate clickthrough ad revenue. The Science Fiction podcast is hosted on damiengwalter.com on an RSS feed. That means I just upload an audio file to a post, and you subscribers listen in your chosen podcast app. But the powers that be – Google / YouTube, Facebook, Apple, Spotify etc have long wanted to either own podcasts or kill them. And in the last year they have largely succeeded in the latter. Most podcasts have moved to video first formats on YouTube, and now Spotify and Apple are also going video first. Most of the podcast apps have been bought out and shutdown, or are forcing their own ads on podcasters. So this note for listeners explains what this all means for the Science Fiction podcast. The TLDR is : The podcast will continue ad-free with audio tracks of the main video essays. Video essays will be free but ad-supported on YouTube and Spotify Members can watch all the video essays ad-free on Patreon, Substack and damiengwalter.com The Great Content Audit : over the next two to three months I am adding all the content to every platform. This means some old content will be republished. Sorry for any confusion. To subscribe to the podcast feed search “Science Fiction with Damien Walter” in the app of your choice. Listen to the podcast audio

  • April 1 · 27 min

    Project Hail Mary is a Male Pattern Fantasy

    “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!” ​Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley. You know it, don’t you? You’ve seen it on a Breaking Bad poster, or perhaps you vaguely recall it from a GCSE English syllabus you ignored because you were too busy wondering if a lightsaber could, in theory, be powered by a sufficiently large alkaline battery. It’s a poem about a massive, male ego, crumbling in a desert. It’s a poem about the fantasies of men. Become a member to watch the full video Members get full access to all videos and posts SubscribeSubmitting form Log in Or watch on YouTube https://youtu.be/4x6LL75y0Ek Men who are, as I speak, vibrating with a very specific, localised form of excitement. “Finally,” we the men cry, “Finally, we are getting Hard Science Fiction in the cinema!” Hard SF. Defined as a narrative subgenre preoccupied with technical accuracy and the rigid application of the laws of physics. It is the “Hard” of the structural engineer. The “Hard” of the materials scientist. The “Hard” of a man who looks at a sunset and sees not a poem, but a predictable sequence of atmospheric scattering. The “Hard” of man who has scathing things to say about “Soft” sciences. ​The “Hard” of a man who hasn’t considered what repeating the word “Hard” over and over again might be saying on a Freudian level. Enter Project: Hail Mary, the latest chunk of cinematic Hard science fiction from Andy Weir, the man behind the last chunk of cinematic Hard SF we all liked, based on his first novel – The Martian. You know, the one with the disappointing ending where Matt Damon survived. Now Weir is back on the big screen with a blockbuster adaptation of his third and some say best novel. Can Project: Hail Mary repeat the formula of Hard SF box office success? Excitement is high among some scifi fans… …but not all. Weir is, to be blunt, the Nickelback of science fiction. Everyone likes Rockstar, but people who actually know anything about rock music rightly hate themselves for liking it. Because every interesting sub-cultural artform, such as Hard SF, eventually gets a mainstream, corporate facsimile a hyperreal simulacrum that is better produced and easier to swallow… …but is just wrong. To be fair, Project: Hail Mary is an ok movie. If you ask ChatGPT for examples of “mid” it now shows you Project: Hail Mary And plays Nickelback. It’s a movie that can’t stop itself making callbacks to 2001 and Interstellar but is far, far too weighed down with relentless ironic banter and buddy-cop dynamics to come anywhere near the league of either. It’s clearly a passion project for Ryan Gosling, an actor who everyone agrees is also a good bloke and a living icon of non-threatening masculinity who makes your wife, daughter, female and probably many of your male work colleagues literally gasp whenever he appears on screen. As Ryland Grace. A man who wakes up in a spaceship with amnesia and immediately begins calculating the local gravity by dropping a series of inanimate injects. A man of the academy. A man who has, if we were to realistically represent his character, never made a woman gasp just by entering a room. A contradiction we’ll come back to. Support Science Fiction with Damien Walter as a member Access to all videos, essays and community Join Here And Project: Hail Mary does contain accurate science. We’ve got time dilation as predicted by Einstein. We’ve got the actual physics of rockets, orbital mechanics, spectrostopy, although there’s a lot less about “mass ratios” than the book. We even get some convergent evolution. And the many, many, *endless* torrents of think pieces from the corporate media applauding Project: Hail Mary for being based on “solid science” are correct. But are, like the lyrics of Chad Kroeger, beside the point. Because, like most science fiction, the science in Project: Hail Mary depends on accepting a fantastical premise, the Astrophage. In reality it is not possible to convert matter to energy 100% efficiently. If we were really being scientifically rigorous we would have to admit that Ryan Gosling speeding to Tau Ceti in a starship is no more realistic than flying on the back of a dragon. So, yes, if you can handwavium aside the Astrophage you can believe that what you like about Project: Hail Mary is its HARD scientific realism. When what you really like is that it’s a lovely fantasy. A Male Pattern Fantasy. # Dear Mr “Damo” Walter. Thanks for saying YES to plugging my Amazon bestselling self-published scifi! #2 in Science Fiction > Space Opera > Competence Porn on your cool podcast. Now that the money has reached your account – boy you sure aren’t cheap! – here is the book. It’s a new genre I call SCI-MAN-TASY. That’s SCIFI plus FANTASY for… What the f… In the grim darkness of Sector 7 only one man knows the password. That man is Gary “The Fixer” Henderson, the Last Sysadmin, and that password definitely is NOT Admin123. Bestselling Kindle self-published author Gary Henderson…yes the author and hero DO have the same name…has written the kind of book that men who solder things will love. And features a quite a lot younger woman who starts as an authority figure but eventually admits Gary’s greater technical expertise. Do they get locked in a dark server stack together? Of course they do. ​It’s a book. It’s available. It has a front, a back, and a statistically significant number of adverbs in the middle. I’ve been paid. You’ve been told. The transaction is complete. It’s scifi. It’s romance. It’s fantasy. It’s Sci-MAN-tasy. ​Buy it on Amazon. Or don’t. The wire transfer is non-refundable, Gary. # ​Now at this point, some of you, specifically those of you currently wearing a t-shirt that says I F*ing Love Science might be feeling a twitch of cognitive dissonance. You’re thinking, “But Damo…Andy Weir’s book isn’t fantasy. There are no elves in it. There isn’t a single Orc. Nobody spends forty pages describing a stew made by a halfling. It’s science! It’s got maths in it. It’s got the specific tensile properties of Xenonite!” ​We have been conditioned by the staggering cultural influence of JRR Tolkien to believe that Fantasy is a “genre”, a genre of swords, dragons, and those unnecessarily complex maps of continents that look suspiciously like a slightly melted version of Western Europe. But fantasy is not a setting. It is a psychological function. ​Fantasy…according to Sigmund Freud, the man who charted the Unconscious from whence all fantasy comes…fantasy is simply wish fulfillment. Fantasy is the psyche’s attempt to resolve a *lack*. It is a narrative scaffold built over a hole in the self. A young woman dreaming of marrying a prince, when really she will end up married to a frog, is fantasising. A boy imagining he’s a powerful hero when, a few years later, he will die in a trench is lost in fantasy. We create fantasies of lives we will never live, and things that will never happen. Almost all popular storytelling is fantasy, especially the stories presented as “real”. James Bond isn’t an MI6 agent, he’s Lancelot in a tuxedo. Succession isn’t a show about powerful businessmen. It’s a fantasy for people who want to be powerful but also want to feel superior to the powerful. Consider “The Great British Bake Off”. Does anyone really care who makes the best jam tart? No. This is a show for British people who live on a small island covered end to end with Tesco Metros who want to taste a Britain that exists only in fantasy. ​Fantasy is at its most potent, its most dangerously infectious, when it is hidden. When it’s tucked away behind the upholstery of “realism.” When it wears the camouflage of technical data. When it is encoded within the symbolism of science. Encoded in Project: Hail Mary is one of the most powerful and archetypal of all human fantasies. The world is terrifying. The world is unpredictable. Reality is pure, incomprehensible chaos. But I, the hero. We, humanity, can bring order to the chaos. With the correct equation. The precise knowledge. The right actions performed at the perfect time we man can take power over the chaos. And Hard SF is the perfect blanket of “realism” to disguise this fantasy. The equations, the rocket engines, the space suits, the blinky blinky lights. They all lull us men into the belief that we’re watching an extrapolation of scientifically verifiable REALITY. When really we’re escaping into fantasy. Because all science fiction is fantasy. Fantasy that’s been to community college, taken Physics 101 and is now pretending it knows the secrets of reality. “Hard SF” is not about the science. It is about the feeling of the science. It is the fantasy that the universe is not a chaotic, indifferent void that will eventually erase every trace of our existence until we are as forgotten as Ozymandias’s left leg. The fantasy that the universe is a Logic Puzzle. And, this is the crucial bit, that we humans have the right-shaped brain to solve it. Most science fiction is just fantasy with a more rigorous filing system. A symbolic encoding to make the fantasy palatable to men who don’t know, or can’t admit, they want fantasy. Male Pattern Fantasy (MPF) is not a static object. It is a modular narrative software that updates its “skin” to match the user’s increasing level of cynicism and decreasing level of testosterone. From our first Saturday morning cartoon to when we die in a care home, clutching a special edition BluRay of Transformers : The Movie. ​It’s the same fantasy, isn’t it? It’s just the same one. Over and over. It just changes costume so we don’t feel quite so pathetic for still believing in it. ​The Three Ages of the MPF ​To understand why Project: Hail Mary is so addictive to us men we must look at the three stages of the MPF: Stage 1: The Titan (The Toddler/Child): This is the fantasy of Physical Might. It is the “Hulk Smash” phase. The world is big and scary, so you imagine yourself being bigger and scarier. It is the simple, honest desire to knock over a skyscraper because your mother wouldn’t let you have a second chocolate buscuit. It’s a bit crude, but at least it’s honest. Stage 2: The Maverick (The Adolescent): Here, the fantasy evolves into Social/Sexual Mastery. This is the Han Solo phase. The “Rebel Without a Cause” (but with a very expensive leather jacket). The fantasy is that you are “cool,” which is a state of being where you are incredibly important but also pretend not to care about anything. You are misunderstood by the “system,” but…and this is crucial…you are eventually vindicated by a princess. Stage 3: The Architect (The Young Professional): As the man enters the workforce, the fantasy shifts to Professional Dominance. This is the “Tech Bro” or “Tycoon” phase. It is the dream of building an empire, of being the smartest guy in the boardroom, of disrupting an industry with an app that basically just reinvented the bus but with more venture capital. It’s about being “The Man with the Plan.” ​The Mid-Life Pivot: The Indispensable Specialist ​But then, something happens. You reach your forties. Your back starts to hurt for no reason. You realize that you aren’t going to be a superhero. You realize that “The System” doesn’t actually care if you’re a maverick; it just wants you to fill in your timesheets. You realize you aren’t the Architect of a New World; you’re a middle-manager in a world that’s already been built and is currently falling apart. ​This is the Mid-Life Crisis of Relevance. ​And this is where Project: Hail Mary arrives like a miracle. Because Project Hail Mary is the MPF for the Mid-Life specialist. ​It moves away from the “Big” fantasies of youth and into the “Small” fantasy of Specific Competence. It tells the reader: “Yes, you are isolated. Yes, you are just a school teacher or a mid-level administrator. But, under the right circumstances, your ability to remember the boiling point of liquid nitrogen makes you the most important human being in the history of the species.” ​It is the fantasy of being Indispensable. ​The teenager wants everyone to look at him. The mid-life man just wants to be the only person who knows how to fix the Wi-Fi. We want to be the “Expert.” Just leave us alone in our shed to do our thing. And Ryland Grace is the ultimate Expert. He is the man who is “left alone” to do his work, and in doing so, saves everyone. It’s a retreat into a shed that happens to be the size of a starship. Not all men have the Male Pattern Fantasy. Some men live the fantasy. Some men walk into a room and everyone pays attention. Some men are the 1% on Tinder that get 99% of the dates. Some men are 6’2 with a chad jaw. Some men are Ryan Gosling. So while Ryan Gosling is as great in Project: Hail Mary as he is in everything. He’s also a walking contradiction. Because Hollywood has a problem. A problem with the human face. Because to be bankable a Hollywood movie must feature the 1% of human faces that other humans want to gaze at. Not the real face of Ryland Grace. Our middle-aged, socially isolated, slightly neurotic middle-school science teacher who has retreated from a failed academic career into a life of quiet, solitary despondence. Does not have the face, or waistline, of Ryan Gosling. ​A face whose bone structure is so aggressively symmetrical it’s actually a violation of the second law of thermodynamics. A stomach so ripped it can only have been carved from a single, very expensive block of artisanal soap. If Project: Hail Mary was really based on scientific realism the laws of physics would dictate we cast in the role of Ryland Grace. Jason Alexander. By no means an ugly man. But the kind of good looking man Hollywood casts when it wants to tell us mere mortals that this character is one of us. A man who actually looks like he’s spent his life in a windowless laboratory arguing with a peer-review board about the cellular respiration of extremophiles. The ideal Ryland Grace is not a man who looks like he just stepped out of a Tag Heuer advertisement after six months in a coma. ​But Hollywood cannot give us the Costanza. They cannot give us the man who actually represents the demographic buying the book. Or watching the movie. They must give us the Gosling, because the Male Pattern Fantasy requires that we are not ourselves. We are Ryan. Think of Paul Hogan in Crocodile Dundee. The mugger pulls a sensible flick-knife; Hogan pulls a blade the size of a surfboard. Project Hail Mary is the flick-knife…a shiny, user-friendly tool for the city boy. If you want the bowie knife…the “Hard SF” that actually lives up to the name…you have to look at the books that are Aggressively Anti Male Pattern Fantasy Books that don’t make you a “somebody” but treat you like the damp patch of organic chemistry on an indifferent rock you actually are. ​The Invincible by Stanisław Lem The “Anti-Rocky.” No “Engineer’s Bromance” here. The alien is a necrotic, non-sentient evolution of micro-machinery that has zero interest in your biology PhD. It is “Hard” because it acknowledges that the universe is unfathomable, not a logic puzzle designed for your ego to solve. Blindsight by Peter Watts The “Anti-Special-Brain.” While Weir suggests your intellect is a superpower, Watts argues that consciousness is a biological mistake…a redundant “user interface” that makes us slower than the hyper-efficient, non-sentient entities out to erase us. It’s the Male Pattern Fantasy’s nightmare: a world where being “Indispensable” is an evolutionary disadvantage. The Fountains of Paradise by Arthur C. Clarke The “Monolith of Futility.” Often misread as a triumph of engineering, it’s really about the cold, Newtonian reality of the “Great Man.” Vannevar Morgan builds a space elevator—the ultimate phallic monument to relevance—only to realize the universe is perfectly happy to let him die of a heart attack while his “Works” simply obey the laws of tension and gravity. ​These books don’t care about your ego; they care about the math. # ​And so, we arrive at the sands. The “lone and level sands.” The part of the poem where men’s deepest fears, and wildest fantasies, collide. ​What is the Hard in Hard Science Fiction actually protecting? ​Because it is protection. It’s armor. It’s a lead-lined bunker for the ego. ​If we look at the core of the Male Pattern Fantasy, we find that it isn’t powered by ambition. It isn’t powered by a genuine desire to save the species. It is powered by a singular, cold, vibrating terror. The terror of the Void. The fear of Irrelevance. ​The ego of the Nobody. ​The great, unspoken fear of the modern man, the man who has done everything “right,” who has the degree, the career, the sensible shoes, is that we are, fundamentally, a Nobody. That we are a ghost in a machine we didn’t build and don’t control. That if we were to vanish tomorrow, the only thing that would change is that a few spreadsheets would go unpopulated and a cat would be slightly confused for forty-eight hours. ​This is reality. The mundane reality of being a finite, transient flicker in eternity. ​And Project Hail Mary is the escape from that reality. It is a narrative “Relevance Injection.” It takes the “Nobody”—the middle-school teacher, the failed academic—and it makes him the Sole Saviour of Humanity. And un-humanity, in this case. ​It’s a lovely fantasy, isn’t it? The idea that humanity needs us. Because this is our secular salvation. That if we do something “Big” enough…save a planet, build a monument, write a best-selling book about a man saving a planet…we can find meaning in the void. ​But we can’t, can we? ​Even Ryland Grace…the man who saved two civilizations with a bit of tape and a basic understanding of light-curves…is ultimately just another Ozymandias. He builds his Works. He saves the Sun. He stands on a pedestal in the Eridani system. And he thinks, in an unassuming Ryan Gosling kinda way “Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!” ​And the universe. The actual Hard universe, the one that doesn’t care about your PhD or your bromance with a spider-alien. That universe. Doesn’t even look back at you with a blank, Newtonian stare. There is no stare. There is no it. Reality doesn’t even not know you exist. Reality is void. Project: Hail Mary is a beautiful lie. It tells you it’s a work of rigorous scientific realism. It flatters you with the symbolism of science. It offers to show you the void. Then it delivers a lovely fantasy. Just the same fantasy as every child’s bedtime tale, every fairy story, every superhero saga. Project: Hail Mary isn’t hard science fiction. It’s pure fantasy. ​Look on my Works, ye Mighty. And… well, maybe just have a nice cup of tea instead. It’s probably more realistic. Listen to the podcast audio

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