Out of Time
Set in the 23rd century, Alasdair Gray’s 1994 novel A History Maker anticipates contemporary drone and surveillance technology combined in the ‘All Seeing Eye’ that acts as both broadcaster and policeman. This idea of us living in the world of fictions past is a recurring one as we try and meme our way into understanding the dystopian present.
From the cliched trio of 1984, Lord of the Flies and a Brave New World come more pressing and urgent examples as the MAGA misogyny anticipates a theonomic society and ends with women donning the dress code from Gilead in protest at the contemporary patriarchy.
Exploring this theme of feeling like you’re living through a post-modern fiction, Dan Brooks references a JG Ballard essay from the 1970s in which: “our daily activities are all recorded on video, and every evening “we sit back to scan the rushes, selected by a computer trained to pick out only our best profiles, our wittiest dialogue, our most affecting expressions filmed through the kindest filters …” Here is the Instagram experience and its strange effects, complete with filter, algorithm and night-time scrolling, delivered to us decades before it became reality.”
This is interesting not just because it is an example of how ‘out of control’ we feel – literally living in someone else’s narrative but also feeling like we are in end-days.
Brooks writes: “In the same way that the term “modernism” tells you something about how people thought of themselves in the years after the first world war, the fact that we regard ourselves as “post-” suggests a certain mindset. In many ways, our culture thinks of itself as existing after the important part of history – increasingly, after the good part. Latter-days thinking prevails, particularly on social media and in the arts, which seems resigned to rearranging the material already provided to us.”
This idea of cultural disorientation is a key theme in Mark Fisher’s work (Ghosts of My Life, The Weird and the Eerie) and his idea of the ‘slow cancellation of the future’. We are living not just in the fragments of post-modern fiction but in a culture where a complete lack of originality is dominant, where we are only re-treading and re-gurgitating previous culture (particularly in music).
In Ghosts of My Life he writes: “The slow cancellation of the future has been accompanied by a deflation of expectations. There can be few who believe that in the coming year a record as great as, say, the Stooges’ Funhouse or Sly Stone’s There’s A Riot Goin’ On will be released. Still less do we expect the kind of ruptures brought about by The Beatles or disco. The feeling of belatedness, of living after the gold rush, is as omnipresent as it is disavowed. Compare the fallow terrain of the current moment with the fecundity of previous periods and you will quickly be accused of ‘nostalgia’. But the reliance of current artists on styles that were established long ago suggests that the current moment is in the grip of a formal nostalgia, of which more shortly.”
“It is not that nothing happened in the period when the slow cancellation of the future set in. On the contrary, those thirty years has been a time of massive, traumatic change. In the UK, the election of Margaret Thatcher had brought to an end the uneasy compromises of the so-called postwar social consensus. Thatcher’s neoliberal programme in politics was reinforced by a transnational restructuring of the capitalist economy. The shift into so-called Post-Fordism – with globalization, ubiquitous computerization and the casualisation of labour – resulted in a complete transformation in the way that work and leisure were organised. In the last ten to fifteen years, meanwhile, the internet and mobile telecommunications technology have altered the texture of everyday experience beyond all recognition. Yet, perhaps because of all this, there’s an increasing sense that culture has lost the ability to grasp and articulate the present. Or it could be that, in one very important sense, there is no present to grasp and articulate anymore.”
But if sci-fi predictions from fiction are coming ominously true through, emerging into real life, so too is the future specifically anticipating AI. In 1966 Star Trek introduced the Universal Translator capable of decoding and translating unknown languages. In 2019 Babel Fish emerged and from that Google Assistant Translator Mode now translates 27 languages in real time. 1984s The Terminator predicted as self-aware AI weapons programme SKYNET which attempts to wipe out humanity with a nuclear strike.In 2019 the US army develop ATLAS (Advanced Targeting and Lethally Automated System). In 1989: Back to the Future features smart glasses for television and phone calls, and a smart watch which can precisely predict weather. In 2012: The Dark Sky app provides custom alerts on the weather to the minute. 2013: Google Glass is able to make calls, send texts, display photos, and provide directions. 2015: Apple Watch comes enabled with WiFi, Bluetooth, a GPS, and even a heart sensor. The convergence of outlandish projections from the past continues as the AI revolution quietly accelerates beneath us.
I asked Co-Pilots take on the slow cancellation of the future:
“Mark Fisher’s concept of “the slow cancellation of the future” can be seen in various aspects of contemporary culture and society. Here are a few examples:
- Music and Film: The prevalence of remakes, reboots, and nostalgia-driven content in music and film. Instead of creating new genres or groundbreaking works, there’s a tendency to recycle and repackage past successes.
- Fashion: The cyclical nature of fashion trends, where styles from previous decades are constantly revived rather than new, innovative designs being introduced.
- Technology: While there are advancements in technology, many innovations are incremental rather than revolutionary. For instance, new smartphone models often offer only slight improvements over their predecessors.
- Politics: The stagnation in political ideologies and the lack of visionary leadership. Many political movements and parties seem to be stuck in old paradigms without offering new solutions to contemporary problems.
- Urban Development: The gentrification of cities, where old neighborhoods are renovated and repurposed rather than creating entirely new urban spaces.
These examples illustrate how the future feels “cancelled” because there’s a sense of repetition and a lack of forward momentum in various cultural and societal domains.”
That’s really not very good or interesting, but it’s close. What we are experiencing is a world in which cultural stagnation and stasis is combined with radical almost unimaginable technological change.
Writing in his recently published The Darkest Timeline, Bram E Gieben talks about what he calls ‘a radically atemporal moment’ in which “All historical eras, but in particular the vivid, imagistic, mediated truth-events of twentieth century history and aesthetics appear super-imposed over each other, taking place simultaneously. This represents the total commodification of history, making the present also radically unthinkable…”
He goes on: “We’re at peak re-make, trapped in the prequel problem – our fates already known and assured, replete with false promises and choices that lead nowhere. We’re at the event horizon of cultural singularity, beyond which there is only collapse, and forgetting. As such we are free to enjoy comfortable dystopias … Science fiction is not just escapism or prophecy, it is the literature of those dispossessed from the present and alienated by the future. The only true future is already here.”
This idea of the present being ‘radically unthinkable’ is a major obstacle to political change. Dan Brooks suggestion that “sooner or later, we must become authors again” seems a bit glib, but it is worth remembering that sci-fi was once a way of imagining new worlds and opening our imagination to possibility.
Where does big corporate business feature in this?
When there’s discussion about change, as priority, there needs to be some view of how to deal with the influence and control of political and economic systems, government policy and commercial behaviour, exerted by these monster (monstrous) global businesses.
They are novels, not instruction manuals. You can use your imagination.
Maybe I misunderstand.
Looks to me like Bellacaledonia is using these novels to cast light on it at least provide comparison with what’s happening just now.
Cup’s of tea
Who cares what you say, you don’t exist.
There will be jetpacks.
My favourite is The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil by George Saunders, taking the piss out of people who want to be divisive about everything. Especially when you’ve lost your brain under the bed, again. Refreshingly different to much of the library in the article.
You could as easily say science fiction is the literature of change. Although perhaps fantasy is closer to a literature of coexistence. Yes, I’ve read science fiction from an early age, and very often there have been times when some apparently new phenomenon reminded me of a science fiction story I’ve read.
But you miss out games, where science fiction rattles against sandboxes. And there is a trend of game-first science fiction (Fallout being a recent example). Other movies are heavily influenced by game design (Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes stands out).
It is in games (particularly those with an online, connected element) that emergent phenomenon take hold with unprecedented speed. And that’s a cultural product still evolving, largely on the fruitful basis of idea communism (with some help/hindrance from capitalist licensing).
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emergent_gameplay
Thought provoking article, thanks.
Of course one can also look outside fiction. These are some quotations from Marshal McLuhan’s work much of which is written in the late 1950s. The prescience of what he says is remarkable – the digital world we now live in is all there (but it is interesting to note, it was already starting to happen then).
‘The young person today is a data processor on a very large scale.
We have already reached a point where remedial control born out of knowledge of media and the effects on all of us must be exerted.
Ours is the first age in which many thousands of the best trained minds have made it a full time business to get inside the collective public mind, to get inside in order to manipulate, exploit, control.
Electric information devices for universal, tyrannical, womb to tomb surveillance are causing a very serious dilemma between our claim to privacy and the community’s need to know
What will happen when intelligence is recognised as a global resource?
The electric age . . . has deprived people of their private identity. Everybody tends to merge his identity with other people at the speed of light.
The older traditional ideas of private, isolated thoughts and actions – the patterns of mechanistic technologies, are very seriously threatened by new methods of instantaneous electric information retrieval by the electrically computerised dossier bank – that one big gossip column is unforgiving, unforgetful and from which there is no redemption, no erasure in any sense’.
In terms of the ‘end of history’ and regurgitation, you could easily make the link to AI ‘creativity’ since it is this writ large – AI music etc is a re-hash of human endeavour to date. It is the prefect example of empty, parasitic art that can by design only look backwards. In a way it is not art at all if one thinks that art is ultimately about reflecting lived human experience.
Mind you when it comes to music, it has made a rod for its own back as it has become so technologised and formularised due to the power of evolving tech over the last 30 years that an AI version of it is not much different: a single person interfacing with a computer has been the mainstay of much commercial music for ages (a recent headline rightly asked ‘where are all the bands?’). And I don’t just mean obviously ‘techno’ stuff – even where it appears to be real instruments, a ‘band’, it is nothing of the sort and no instruments are involved at all – it is all mocked up. All you have left is a vocal and even that is processed to high heaven. Getting AI to actually formulate the material and synthesise the vocal is not much of a step really.
Photography has gone the same way – much attention is centred on ‘fake’ AI images but how much digital photography is transparent. anyway? It is doctored to f*** routinely as it is. Bazan once said that the photographic image was ‘a window on the world’, which even at the time was regarded as naive. Nowadays it is little more than a mirror, but not even a mirror that reflect us, but a simulacrum of us.
Riding the zeitgeist hardly ever ends well.
What is fiction? How can we define it? Originality and imagination completely spent–merely endless recapitulation, mental commodification on an Escheresque loop–can we establish a break from a fractured, even shattered, status quo? No ground to stand on, no fulcrum from which to depart the indefinite present…?
@Daniel Raphael, OK, let us look at how broad genres of fiction (science fiction and fantasy, which overlap of course) treat coexistence.
Science fiction may introduce aliens, robots or artificial life, past human species like Neanderthals, mutants, future evolutions of humans (or other animals), and new ways to communicate with other animals, plants, fungi etc. Science fiction (even in alternate or multiverse or deep past/future or simulative modes) is tethered to us+now, and if coexistence features, the focus tends to be on how humans relate to other groups (or how sections of humanity relate to each other).
Fantasy may rewrite our universe/multiverse, and write humans out altogether, or marginalise them. Many intelligent species may share a world. Magic and/or supernatural beings might feature. We may have related intelligent species. We may have sentient worlds. Worlds may coexist on different planes or scales (accessible through portals or existing as wainscot societies, only one set of inhabitants being generally aware of the other).
So, by imagination, we consider how to coexist with others unlike ourselves, in shared or distant environments, imagine how our shared or separate futures unfold given the agencies of inhabitants. These lessons can be abstracted and applied to our own world, which we humans share with many non-human lifeforms, which would have their own stories if we could connect with them. How to govern this world of many others? Perhaps fiction will help us imagine new kinds of politic systems in which they are represented.
#biocracynow
A good article.
This is surely a predictable consequence of people living their lives inside-out and back to front. Many people now live primarily in virtual (so-called digital) worlds, and only marginally in a real physical world that they share with everyone else (whether they like it or not). These virtual worlds are self-enclosed (fictional) and overlap only tangentially, whereas the old-fashioned physical world – at least in aspiration – is unified by a single set of scientific laws (albeit fearsomely complex).
We regularly see this in the way that the media – not least the BBC – present ‘news’. Actual events, affecting real people, are framed and ‘explained’ as though they were episodes in a Netflix series. Meanwhile a fluffy entertainment like Strictly Come Dancing evolves into real-life news – or vice versa. All boundaries dissolve.
On the individual side, people are encouraged to present themselves online as actors in an ongoing psychodrama. You can even be an actor in multiple simultaneous psychodramas under different pseudonyms. Is it surprising that trolls flourish?
It would be good to think that the climate crisis that is now crashing towards us may concentrate minds back towards the physical. We shall see (if we live that long).