FutureTense

Spider Robinson asks “Why are our imaginations retreating from science and space, and into fantasy?” in Forward, into the Past, reprinted in the Globe and Mail from his Hugo speech at Worldcon.

It’s a good question, one that I wish more people in the field were asking themselves. But I’m going to take a walk out into the air on this one and say that I find Spider’s analysis of the problem to be part of the problem.

Sales are down, magazines are languishing, our stars are aging and not being replaced. … Those few readers who haven’t defected to Tolkienesque fantasy cling only to Star Trek, Star Wars, and other Sci Fi franchises.

Other than the obvious snobbery about fantasy (there is probably as much radical, thoughtful fantasy being produced today as there is demanding SF), Mr. Robinson’s observations are true. I think we’ve all seen it.

I wish I could take exception to “our stars are aging and not being replaced” because there are more truly fine writers in our field than ever before. But I can’t. Because their works are so far out there, despite the high quality of their work, you can hardly find them once you’ve waded past the stacks of franchise door stops.

I have a sense of longing for the days of yore, when the lists of bestsellers included titles like “Dune” or “Stranger in a Strange Land.” A time when some of the best works and some of the best writers were also some of the most popular, where the top sellers were no stranger to visions of the future that shattered peoples perceptions of who they were and what their place was in the Universe, when some of the most popular titles were at or near the cutting edge of the field instead of mired in the steady muddle of mediocrity.

I am not ashamed of my home, science fiction. I am ashamed by the marketing driven attitude that excellence and popularity are qualities that exert a magnetic repulsion on each other. The business driven corrolary that we must always choose that which will be popular over that which is powerful resulting in an environment in which a work that is merely craftsmanlike is lauded as the next Dune, the next Lord of the Rings.

But Mr. Robinson appears to settle the blame for the ills of the field on the shoulders of the young:

Incredibly, young people no longer find the real future exciting. They no longer find science admirable. They no longer instinctively lust to go to space.

Given the outpouring of protest that should have accompanied Mr. Robinson’s assingment of responsibility but hasn’t, I must conclude that this attitude is representative of the field at large. Which can only result in a widening gulf between the fresh and the established and the field is, politely, f*cked.

Mr. Robinson’s definition of an optimistic future is that of the “space age.” If he wishes to observe that the young of today no longer equate “spage age” with “optimistic future,” I’m down with that. “Space age” ain’t what it used to be. It the days of backbehind, it was essential for the members of the free world to secure space against an ideological foe. Been there. Done that. Not too sure about the finer points of the results.

Young people of today have to worry about their own government filling space with spy satellites and missiles. We’ve consumed the resources of this planet with abandon, with no clear evidence that exploration of our planetary neighbors isn’t really exploitation, with the bulk of the proceeds destined for the pockets of multinational corporations to be used to secure captive populations of docile consumers.

A Mars landing these days isn’t just about the excitement of being the first person to set foot in red dust.

Yes, the future is frightening! Anyone with any sense must acknowledge the fearful potential outcomes. But the thoughtful critic must observe, in all good conscience, that these perils were largely created by Mr. Robinson’s generation. Who landed on the Moon? Yes, that was a victory to the baby boomer set. But who allowed the space program to fade into the sunset of its own glory?

The same generation.

My generation.

This next generation–the ones who have disappointed Mr. Robinsion so greatly, whose fear of technology has so concerned Mr Robinson–they are the ones who are comfortable with the coming world with its higher integration of technology in everyday life. Young people are at the core of the development of technology today, in ways that never could have happened 20 or 30 years ago. Netscape, IM, Napster are just a few of the technological innovations that are changing the way people exist in the world. All were started by people less than 35. They were radicals. Rebels. Trying to exercise their vision of a different future at the periphery of a environment clogged by staid baby boomers. The innovations of the last 20 years were not spawned by Spider’s nostalgic crew. They were created in spite of them.

No, forgive me, it’s the old coots who are afraid of a real future, who refuse to write about it or deal with it within the field. It’s the old guard–Mr. Robinson’s generation, my generation–who can mount the massive voting block necessary to send us back to a dark age where all technology is suspect merely because it is technology. The young don’t have the votes, the market pull to swing the pendulum any direction we baby boomers don’t want it to go.

If modern culture is reactive in the face of a technological future, it is the fault of the baby boomers.

I would prefer it if the field acknowledged its failures instead of blaming the next generation, who have been forced to submit to the tastes of a dominant marketing block with no recourse, and move on.

Best regards,
Alan

This entry was posted on Monday, December 29th, 2003 at 9:16 pm and is filed under Articles & Essays. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.