Text Patterns - by Alan Jacobs
Showing posts with label Mars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mars. Show all posts

Monday, November 21, 2016

the asymptote of utopia

I just re-read Kim Stanley Robinson’s magnificent Mars trilogy — about which I hope to teach a class someday — and every time I go back to those books I find myself responding differently, and to different elements of the story. Which is a sign of how good they are, I think.

Some have described the Mars trilogy as a kind of utopia, but I don't think that’s right. Even at the end Mars remains a world with problems, though it must be said that most of them come from Earth. Mars itself has become a pretty stable social order, and even the strongest opponent within the book of how it got that way thinks, in the last paragraph of the final volume, that “Nowhere on this world were people killing each other, nowhere were they desperate for shelter or food, nowhere were they scared for their kids. There was that to be said.” There’s no guarantee that the social order will remain so beneficent, but I think KSR wants us to believe that as time goes by stable harmony becomes more and more strongly established, more difficult to displace. Thus one of his minor characters, Charlotte Dorsa Brevia, is a “metahistorian” who argues for a

broad general movement in history which commentators called her Big Seesaw, a movement from the deep residuals of the dominance hierarchies of our primate ancestors on the savanna, toward the very slow, uncertain, difficult, unpredetermined, free emergence of a pure harmony and equality which would then characterize the very truest democracy. Both of these long-term clashing elements had always existed, Charlotte maintained, creating the big seesaw, with the balance between them slowly and irregularly shifting, over all human history: dominance hierarchies had underlain every system ever realized so far, but at the same time democratic values had been always a hope and a goal, expressed in every primate’s sense of self, and resentment of hierarchies that after all had to be imposed, by force. And so as the seesaw of this meta-metahistory had shifted balance over the centuries, the noticeably imperfect attempts to institute democracy had slowly gained power.

This increasingly stable harmony happens, I think it’s clear, primarily because the First Hundred who colonized Mars are almost all scientists, and as scientists take a rational, empirical approach to solving political problems. That is, the initial conditions of human habitation on Mars are rooted in the practices of science — which is one of the things that leads, much later on, to the first President of Mars being an engineer, which is to say, a pragmatic problem-solver. The politics of solutionism is the best politics, it appears.

However: it’s noteworthy that the people who do the most to shape the ultimate formation of Mars — political, social, and physical — are three characters who are almost invisible in the story, interacting very little with the story’s protagonists (who happen to be the most famous, not just on Mars but also on Earth). Vlad Taneev, Ursula Kohl, and Marina Tokareva work together on a variety of projects: Vlad and Ursula develop the longevity treatments that enable humans to dramatically increase their lifespans; Vlad and Marina work on “areobotany,” that is, adapting plants to the Martian environment; and the three of them together develop an “eco-economics,” that is, a political economy keyed to ecological health — a kind of systematically worked-out version of what KSR refers to in other contexts as the flourishing-of-the-land ethos of Aldo Leopold.

We hear almost nothing directly from this triumvirate during the course of the story, because they basically stay in their lab and work all the time. This is sometimes frustrating for the story’s protagonists, who are always directly involved in politcal events, risking life and limb, giving up their scientific projects in order to serve the common good (or, in the case of Sax Russell, applying technological solutions directly, and sometimes recklessly, to political and social problems). But while KSR makes it clear to us that the protagonists’ work is supremely valuable, he makes it equally clear that they could achieve far less without the isolated, ascetic, constant labor of Vlad, Ursula, and Marina.

So: scientists in the lab + scientists in the public arena = if not quite Utopia something asymptotically approaching it. A Big Seesaw, yes, but the amplitude of its oscillations grows ever smaller, almost to the point, as the story comes to an end, that they’re impossible to discern. In short, an epistocracy. It’s not a simplistic model, like Neil deGrasse Tyson’s proposed Rationalia: KSR understands the massive complexities of human interaction, and one of the best elements of the book is his portrayal of how the paradigmatically socially inept lab-rat Sax Russell comes to understand them as well. But the story really does display a great deal of confidence that if we put the scientists in charge things are going to get much better.

In his superb history of science fiction — now in a fancy new second edition — Adam Roberts writes,

With a few exceptions all [KSR’s] characters are decent human beings, with functional quantities of empathy and a general desire to make things work for the whole. Robinson’s position seems to be that, statistical outliers aside, we all basically want to get along, to not hurt other people, to live in balance.... That niceness — the capacity for collective work towards a common goal, the tendency not to oppress or exploit — is common to almost all the characters Robinson has written. His creations almost always lack inner cruelty, or mere unmotivated spitefulness, which may be a good thing. I’m not saying he’s wrong about human nature, either — although it is more my wish than my belief. What it does mean is that Robinson writes novels that tend to the asymptote of utopia, without actually attempting to represent that impossible goal.

(When I decided to insert that passage in this post, I didn't remember that Adam had used the language of the asymptote, which I also employ above. Great minds do think alike, after all. I shall acknowledge the probably unconscious influence of Adam’s thinking on my own in my title.)

So I have two questions:

1) Are natural scientists the true epistoi?

2) How might the case for epistocracy of any kind be altered if we take the position that human beings are not nearly as nice as KSR thinks they are?

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

KSR's Mars: a stab at a course description

Posting continues to be light and rare around here because I’m still slaving away at two books — one and two — but I am not a machine, so I spend some time each day reading for fun. And the other day I was possessed by an unexpected, sudden, and irresistible urge to re-read Kim Stanley Robinson’s Mars trilogy.

I’m about halfway through Red Mars now and it is just thrilling to be back in this fictional world again. Does KSR put a foot wrong in the whole 2000 pages of the trilogy? I think not. It’s simply a masterpiece.

But in addition to the pure enjoyment of it, I find myself mulling over a possibility: What about teaching an interdisciplinary course built around these books? It would be a way to explore, among other things,

  • the distinctive social value of SF
  • environmental politics
  • the economics and politics of colonialism
  • the future prospects of internationalism
  • the nature of science and the Oppenheimer Principle
  • aesthetics and human perceptions of value
  • geology and areology
  • robotics and automation in manufacturing
  • designing politics from Square One (or what looks to some like Square One)

And that’s just a short list! So, friends, I have three questions.

First, does that sound like a useful and/or fun course?

Second, have I neglected any key themes in the trilogy?

And third, what might be some ancillary texts to assign? For instance, to help us about the ways that SF enables political thought, I might want at least some students to read Ursula K. LeGuin’s The Dispossessed; on the possibilities of Martian colonization I might suggest Robert Zubrin’s The Case for Mars on the questions of what science is and what its ultimate values are, I might assign Ursula Franklin’s The Real World of Technology.

But I’m not sure what I might assign on the hard-science side. I’d love to find a book on robotics that is technically detailed but has some of the panache of Neal Stephenson’s famous report on undersea cables and international communication, “Mother Earth Mother Board,” but that might be too much to ask for. I’d love to find an introduction to geology that had some of the clarity and power of John McPhee’s Annals of the Former World but at one-tenth the length. Any help would be much appreciated.