So there's this new thing going around, climate-change science fiction, called Sci-Cli by some, god help them.
The
idea is that climate change is going to fuck us up so thoroughly that
science fiction writers HAVE to write about it. Judging by the way
climate scientists are running around screaming about it like their hair
is on fire, it's gonna be HUGE. I mean, the coral reefs are already
dying out RIGHT NOW. Not someday, not in the future, right fucking NOW.
Unfortunately,
in my experience science fiction that's written to further a cause is
pretty awful stuff. It's not that SF can't have opinions about the
future, or that it can't advocate for this or that, but the story has
got to rule.
Utopia, for example, started out as the
name of a science fiction novel written by Thomas More in 1516. It was
about wonderful people who lived on a great fictional island and it's
described as being similar to life in some religious monasteries, so you
know it was one rockin' read! Well, for 1516, maybe. I think by modern
standards, reading it is probably a lot like having dental work without
anesthesia. Certainly, that's what reading most advocacy SF is like.
So
advocacy SF, utopian or dystopian or somewhere in between, sucks. This
is known. But thing is, climate change is happening now. I mean, back in
the 1950s and 60s if you were writing about computers based on this
nifty thing called a transistor that would someday give you the power to
do differential equations with a device the size of a home refrigerator
that weighed only half a ton, well you're writing SF, son. You're ahead
of the curve.
But if you're writing about personal
computers on a fucking Commodore-64 in the mid-80s, you're not doing SF,
you're just fucking around. You are behind the curve, buddy.
And
that's the thing, the coral reefs ARE dying off, right now. Scientists
are coming up with panicky attempts to save them and even the morons
that run governments are giving them money to give it a try, because
coral reefs are worth fucking money. If you're not including climate
change in your stories of the future, you're fucking up. You are behind
the curve.
Even if you want to have things be about the
same a century from now, you have to at least do some hand-waving to
explain why your grandkids aren't living in underground silos trying to
stretch a small bar of wobbly tofu into a meal and cursing the memory of
their grandparents who couldn't be bothered to deal with climate change
when it would have been doable. You have to say “The atmo-stabilizer
plants cured the atmosphere and made everything good in 2065, to
everyone's great relief” or something along those lines.
Thing
is, I'm already writing sci-cli (god I hate that term, I hope it never
catches on). In my sequel to “Visitor from Incel World” the people from
Collar World have figured out how to open crosstime gateways to Incel
World, and they're just fucking horrified at what they find, and I'm not
just talking about all the vanilla sex. They figure our world has maybe
a century before things really go to shit, with plenty of
unpleasantness along the way that could accelerate things. They think
we're violent (because of all the wars, you know) and we're run by
corrupt thugs (because current events).
So I'm doing my part, so there! No grandkids swearing over their tofu at me!
No comments:
Post a Comment