| Technology 
            in Sci-Fi: The Future We Love To Hate  By 
              Jerry Harris  
              Chicago Third Wave Study Group  
             Science 
              fiction is the most common vehicle in literature and film to explore 
              our love and fear of technology. Cloning may seem new, but the first 
              bioengineer was Dr. Frankenstein. The good doctor was a villain 
              for committing the sin of playing God, creating life and breaking 
              the laws of nature. In fact, it's for those very same reasons that 
              many people today mistrust and condemn bioengineering. It’s 
              not Dolly the Sheep we fear, but those mad scientists in the backroom 
              lab splitting genes and God knows what else.  
            People have 
              always feared being slaves to technology--that some day machines 
              will control our lives, takeover our humanity, and define our reality. 
              Marx situated technology within the context of social relations. 
              For him the key question was who controlled the machine. Capitalists 
              would naturally use technology for their own benefit and as a means 
              to control workers. But if workers had control, technology could 
              help liberate humans from want and misery. Just think of Charlie 
              Chaplin in his classic film Modern Times, attached to the 
              assembly line as if a human robot and swallowed into the very gears 
              of the machine. On the other hand communist artist Diego Rivera 
              painted Henry Ford's River Rouge with religious fervor, turning 
              the halls of the Detroit Museum into a virtual chapel to technological 
              worship and working class power. Images of master or slave seem 
              to permeate our views of technology.  
            Clones 
              And The Sin Of Creation  
            After Frankenstein, 
              his bride, and their unfortunate fates, Blade Runner is 
              our next great bioengineering film. This one gets more real as time 
              goes by. Update the mad scientist to the Tyrell Corporation and 
              it's slimy CEO, the villain now has turned into an unethical businessman 
              with a Phd in science. The clones are manufactured to do particular 
              jobs in outer space and designed with a five-year expiration date. 
              They escape back to earth in search of their maker and with a question 
              we all hold, "How long do I have?" As in Frankenstein, 
              our new monsters, the rampaging misunderstood clones looking for 
              their humanity actually gain our sympathy. For that matter, they 
              win over Harrison Ford even as he hunts them down. Decker, (Ford's 
              character) falls in love with one of the clones and flees into an 
              unknown future with her at the end of the film. How better to express 
              our attraction to technology then to sleep with it! On the other 
              hand Decker goes around killing the other clones, the ones we fear, 
              the ones out of control and questioning the very division between 
              technology and humanity.  
            What is it to 
              be human was one of Philip K. Dick's favorite themes, he wrote Do 
              Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, the book Blade Runner 
              was based on. His questions are becoming ever more relevant as technology 
              puts electrodes into hearts to make them pump, silicon chips into 
              eyes to make them see, and pig's livers into our bodies so we can 
              continue to live. The inter-facing of science in our bodies and 
              our genes is only just beginning. Designing humans (at the very 
              minimum for health reasons) is on our doorstep.  
            Arnold Schwarzenegger's 
              new film, Sixth Day, presents us with a world just around 
              the corner, perhaps no more than five or six years. But rather than 
              Blade Runner's dark distopia where police hunt down clones 
              through neon lit rainy streets, Sixth Day presents a familiar 
              world of bright clean suburbs where clones hunt humans and each 
              other. This is the world we live in today, just slightly altered 
              by a wonderfully layered use of technologies currently on the cusp 
              of development. Smart refrigerators that remind us we're out of 
              milk, self-driven cars with push button map locators and virtual 
              sex for lonely guys at home. Chase scenes speed past suburban streets 
              where all the houses look the same, reflecting a cloned culture 
              where people already look, think and act alike.  
            The movie has 
              a lot to say about the moral, legal and economic problems that cloning 
              could create. Cloning in the Sixth Day, as in Blade 
              Runner, creates memories and personal histories. In Blade 
              Runner false memories made the clones more human, while in 
              Sixth Day the real memories of the original person are 
              reproduced creating a second or third you. In both movies out-of-control 
              clones are the danger, technology gone wrong. Both movies also give 
              us a dose of religious caution, Sixth Day even beginning 
              with a quote from Genesis. And both movies wrap science and technology 
              in its distorted relationship with market and commodity production. 
              In fact, our Sixth Day bad guy is an info-tech capitalist 
              dressed in New York black with a Regan era attitude.  
            The idea of 
              human clones used as technological commodities was more starkly 
              presented in Blade Runner, because in Sixth Day 
              they have achieved a level of success and power. Nevertheless the 
              deep contradictions and daily compromises between science and capitalism 
              are important elements that make Sixth Day work. Robert 
              Duvall plays the scientist (we know because he always walks around 
              in a white smock), and he is clearly manipulated by the corporation's 
              CEO. Although motivated by his research and desire to extend his 
              sick wife's life, his work is used in a political plot to change 
              the laws prohibiting the cloning of humans. Particularly the law 
              that makes it illegal for clones to inherit the wealth of their 
              former self. Something only the really rich would find necessary 
              to kill over. To carry out the scheme people are murdered and cloned, 
              but engineered with diseases that are fatal within a few years. 
              This arrangement helps to enforce contracts as well as company loyalty. 
              Duvall's wife has already been cloned several times and pleads with 
              her husband to let her die. It's a Kovorkian scene arguing for a 
              dignified death over the technological extension of life.  
            The film also 
              presents some other nicely framed observations about technology 
              and market relations. A star quarterback is badly injured, murdered 
              in the ambulance, and then cloned so he can rejoin the team and 
              fulfill his multimillion-dollar contract. Clones are also employed 
              as an in-house gang working for the corporation. No longer hunted 
              down as violent runaways as in Blade Runner, these clones 
              are the hunters and recreated every time they're killed. When they 
              fail to do their job their boss barks out, "You cost $1.2 million 
              each, show me you're worth it!"  
            Sixth Day 
              is also good at showing us the arguments and marketing that entices 
              society to accept dangerous technology. The scientist just wants 
              to keep his wife alive and the CEO talks eloquently about reproducing 
              people like Albert Einstein and Dr. Martin Luther King, all high 
              moral arguments that cloak the power and greed behind the reasoning. 
              There is also an active legal business of cloning dead pets and 
              here we are already facing reality. Recently the founder of Phoenix 
              University paid Texas A&M $2.3 million dollars to try and clone 
              his pet dog Missy. Notice the price tag. That point is brought out 
              during the climax of Sixth Day, when the hero "Adam" 
              poises the question "who decides." That, after all, is 
              the key: in a market driven society, who decides is the one with 
              the most money. We may see a world divided between the gene rich 
              and gene poor. Or as Marx would put it, class determines use.  
            Unfortunately 
              Sixth Day betrays itself in the end, much like the studio 
              cut of Blade Runner. In that film Decker literally flies 
              off into the sunset with his clone lover as the voiceover tells 
              us that she is special and has no expiration date. Director Ridley 
              Scott's version has them on the run, an elevator slamming shut like 
              a jail door and nothing about Rachel being "special." 
              Sixth Day spends two hours telling us about the dangers 
              of cloning, even giving it religious overtones by calling the clones 
              "evil" and "abominations." But in the end Adam's 
              cloned self has a fond farewell with his family, gets into a flyer 
              and takes off over the Golden Gate Bridge into a future of adventure 
              and self-discovery. Here the hero doesn't fall for a clone lover, 
              he falls in love with himself. There is even a mention that his 
              DNA has been checked out and cleared, he has no engineered disease. 
              The film leaves us thinking the only danger with cloning is if we 
              clone bad people. On the other hand, if we clone good people, (like 
              ourselves) it's okay.  
            Technology 
              As Terror  
            For a world 
              that technology almost destroyed, we need to visit Terminator 
              I and II. Arnold Schwarzenegger is the robotic killing machine 
              and his square body fits the part perfectly. When Terminator 
              I came out, robotics were replacing thousands of workers in 
              auto and other industrial jobs. How better to express our fear than 
              a robot that destroys our future. The machine is relentless as your 
              boss on an efficiency drive; he just keeps coming after you no matter 
              how hard you work to avoid your fate.;  
            Terminator 
              II takes us to the next phase of technology, the digital threat. 
              This Terminator is no longer a one-note robot, but a flexible, 
              adaptable, ever-changing threat. The film's effects, produced by 
              digital technology, presents the new killer as information based 
              and computerized. He can mimic any voice, assume any identify, and 
              reprogram himself to deal with changing situations. Robert Patrick 
              (now on X files) as the new Terminator even looks like 
              a well-groomed, thirty-something professional. But under that nice 
              exterior a killer lurks. This Terminator represents the 
              new third wave economy, not only attacking humans, but also replacing 
              the old Terminator model. Finding himself in the technological 
              garbage dump alongside humans, Terminator I now switches 
              sides to help defend humanity.  
            In both films 
              the climatic ending takes place in an old second wave industrial 
              factory. Terminator I ends when he is crushed in a machine 
              shop, our human heroine making use of the old familiar technology 
              that we know, control, and feel comfortable with. This is repeated 
              in Terminator II where the final battle takes place in 
              a steel mill, the molten metal consuming both Terminator I and 
              II. Our jobs are safe, the future technology has been destroyed, 
              and we're left with our industrial base intact.  
            Total Recall, 
              another Schwarznegger film, is a virtual Marxist tale on the use 
              of technology. There is a lot of excitement and fun around concepts 
              of dual identity. The hero is torn between joining the revolution 
              or working for a nasty corporation which is running Mars. This conflict 
              of political consciousness is wrapped inside an advanced virtual 
              reality technology game where Schwarznegger plays out his moral 
              dilemma. Eventually his virtual persona becomes his real self, just 
              as we all wish to be better and braver in our virtual mental playgrounds. 
              To defeat a rebellion of poor outcasts the corporate CEO on Mars 
              (played by Ronny Cox) orders all air cut-off to the underground 
              sections of the city where the rebels have taken over. Air is the 
              prime commodity on Mars, and the corporation that produces and controls 
              it runs the city. Marx couldn't have put it better. Capitalism turns 
              everything into a commodity, even the air we breathe.  
               
              This Martian scenario was virtually carried out by Lawrence Summers 
              when he was chief economist at the World Bank. In a memo that could 
              have been part of Total Recall's script Summers wrote: 
              "I've always thought that under-populated countries in Africa 
              are vastly under-polluted: their air quality is probably vastly 
              inefficiently low compared to Los Angeles or Mexico City. Only the 
              lamentable facts that so much pollution is generated by non-tradable 
              industries...prevent world welfare enhancing trade in air pollution 
              and waste." Now there is logic that they would have appreciated 
              on Mars. Yes you read it correctly, clean air is inefficient and 
              should provide a market in which poor countries sell their under-polluted 
              oxygen as a sink for industrial waste. Meet your new boss, same 
              as the old boss, and ready for his assignment on Mars.  
            This is uncomfortably 
              close to the reality of globalization. Today everything seems to 
              be for sale to transnational corporate ownership. There are no longer 
              any socially owned resources, if its public it needs to be privatized. 
              The latest buyouts have focused on national water resources. Recently 
              in Bolivia, Bechtel "bought" major public water resources 
              and increased prices by 300%. As on Mars, there was a massive rebellion 
              of poor people and Bechtel was kicked out of Bolivia.  
            In Total 
              Recall Schwarznegger remembers a hidden Martian technology 
              that creates oxygen for the entire world. The plot revolves around 
              his struggle to put this technology to use for the free consumption 
              of air. Of course our hero is successful, undermining the corporation's 
              monopoly and killing everyone on the executive board for good measure. 
              Technology is both the oppressor and liberator, depending on its 
              use and control. In this case the revolution wins out.  
            Consciousness, 
              Real And Otherwise  
            In many of these 
              films computers reach artificial intelligence and act in their own 
              class interests, or at least against human interests. It was a self 
              aware defense computer which sets off nuclear war in Terminator 
              I, and who can forget Hal in Stanely Kubrick's 2001: A 
              Space Odyssey. The computer that is built to serve us, suddenly 
              turns in rebellion and with cold logical efficiency sets out on 
              our destruction. No matter what we say, no matter what we input, 
              it just won't obey our commands. How many times have we all complained 
              about exactly that same problem as we sit in front of our PCs. In 
              1968 when I first saw 2001: A Space Odyssey I was in a 
              San Francisco theater filled with stoned hippies plastered to their 
              seats as spaceships twirled to Strauss. Twenty years later as I 
              sat stone sober at my desk facing my first PC; it seemed Hal was 
              lurking somewhere deep in my subconscious warning me that if I hit 
              the enter key this machine would destroy my life. Now whenever the 
              computer seems to have a mind of its own and refuses all my commands 
              I know Hal's ghost is somewhere in there just short of achieving 
              full consciousness.  
            The movie that 
              brings all this together is The Matrix. False consciousness, 
              artificial intelligence and revolutionary consciousness fight for 
              our hero's soul in a virtual world more real and appealing than 
              reality. Once again computers gain self-consciousness and take control 
              in a bitter battle that leaves the world in ruins and humans enslaved. 
              To provide energy to run the machines humans are kept in cocoons 
              and hooked-up as batteries while their minds are immersed in a virtual 
              reality that looks like New York on its best day. It’s hard 
              not to give this a Marxist reading. Human batteries (wage slaves) 
              mercilessly exploited to keep the machine (capitalism) running, 
              all the while believing they are living in the best of all possible 
              worlds. Virtual reality is nothing more than false consciousness. 
              While you think everything is great in actuality the world is hungry, 
              cold, and a prison of poverty.  
            The film carefully 
              constructs sharply contrasting images of the real world and its 
              computer stimulation. In virtual reality you eat and dress well, 
              have a steady job, and the light shines like Los Angeles in the 
              1940s. But our small crew of revolutionary cadre who have escaped 
              false consciousness live in small confined metal spaces. The food 
              is prison slop, the clothes dirty and old, and the only job is to 
              organize the overthrow of the machine. Those with revolutionary 
              consciousness must also be careful of people still trapped in virtual 
              reality. Although the task is to liberate humanity, as long as people 
              are fooled by false consciousness they can be inhabited by a computer 
              program that turns them into agents of the system.  
            The computer's 
              security programs look exactly like FBI agents. And these agents 
              are nasty business. They use torture, implant bugs in your body 
              to keep track of your whereabouts, express racial hatred of humanity, 
              and carry themselves with a cold fascist attitude of superiority. 
              In a nice turn the director uses a technologically influenced color 
              palate to bathe the agents in a QualComm green light during night 
              scenes to contrast with the superrealism of the day.  
            Matrix 
              also makes use of myth to develop its characters. Laurence Fishburne 
              is wonderful as teacher and prophet, there is an Oracle who lives 
              in the projects as single Black women in an apartment filled with 
              kids, and a Judas who craves to be part of the system again and 
              so betrays his friends. Keanu Reeves as the hero, Neo spends most 
              of the film in the act of becoming the hero and reaching awareness. 
              A bit like his previous role as Siddhartha, but this hero doesn't 
              transform into a peaceful Buddha, but a black clad revolutionary 
              armed to the teeth. Neo breaks out of false consciousness when Fishburne 
              offers him a red pill. You can almost hear Timothy Leary whispering, 
              "turn on, tune in, and drop out." In the end two things 
              save Neo: love wakes our hero to his full potential and saves him 
              from death, and his liberated consciousness gives him the ability 
              to think outside the rules of the system and so deconstructs the 
              programmed security agents.  
            I suppose in 
              the sequel Neo will go about reprogramming the machine to serve 
              humanity once again. Or perhaps create a utopia without technological 
              terror. Of one thing we can be certain: as long as new technology 
              is created within the social confines of exploitation, science fiction 
              will have plenty of stories to offer us. Our love and fear of technology 
              is based on its potential for liberation or enslavement. Marx was 
              right, it all depends on whose finger is on the button, whose hand 
              holds the hammer, and the agenda in their mind. 
              
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