Just Because We Can...

NASA recently announced that a capsule from the Osiris-Rex spacecraft had landed in Utah. The capsule contained debris collected from the asteroid Bennu. For us science-fiction nerds, the scenario is all too reminiscent of the plot from Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain. Our government assures us that precautions against contamination are in place. Which begs the question, precautions against what? If we don’t know what we protecting ourselves against, how would we know our protections are effective? Certainly, there is much to be gained from an analysis of the asteroid’s material, but is it worth the risk? Why not study this extraterrestrial material in space? 

Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.

It’s a saying that’s become more significant with our ever increasing technical and industrial capabilities. Several examples come to mind: The creation of the atomic bomb. Gain-of-function research. News articles that raise the hairs on the back of your neck, i.e., stories involving reanimating dead flesh. Gee, what could go wrong? It’s as if the scientists involved have ignored the warnings of every zombie movie ever filmed. Then comes a story about the Chinese growing human tissue inside pig uteruses. Hello, Island of Dr. Moreau calling.

When Kaye Booth asked me to contribute a story to the WordCrafter Press horror anthology, Midnight Roost I had the perfect concept to explore: “Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should,” as in human inception and gestation in artificial wombs, to incubate what are known as “bag babies.” The so-called benefits of this development include “freeing women from the tyranny of pregnancy,” allowing parents to customize the genes of their baby, and giving the government the opportunity to control demographics to enact state policies. With bag babies, the government can control population growth without the pesky need for humans getting it on. Two examples warning us about the dangers of industrial-scale human incubation came to mind: Brave New World, and The Matrix.

I wrote "Immediate Intervention" to discuss several themes addressing bag babies. The first is that human development is very complicated and nuanced. We know about the importance of an emotional connection between a mother and the infant while in the womb. When the baby is born, its prefrontal cortex is undeveloped and the brain is a blank slate. As the baby matures, what becomes evident is the empathetic connection between the infant and mother, then infant and father, then infant and others. This connection depends on environmental influences upon the baby in the womb, things like the mother’s heartbeat, her warmth, her emotional state, the projection of good vibes from mother to child. Some of this may sound esoteric but we know that babies born in emotionally toxic environments will become emotionally toxic people. 

How then to replicate a nurturing environment for the baby in an artificial womb? Certainly, a fetus incubator could replicate heart beats and use soothing stimuli to mimic a human host mother. But would that be enough? Wouldn’t such a loss of the child-mother bond bring the risk of babies not developing a sense of empathy? What would be the fallout of that?

In my story, this lack of empathy results in an inability to establish meaningful emotional connections, which in turn would lead to isolation, a sense of chronic loneliness, then depression. And from that, a proclivity to suicide.

The other theme would be one of, who am I? What am I? Who are my real parents? The DNA donors? Or the mother—the incubator? Would there be a sense of spiritual estrangement, that rather than feel part of the human continuum stretching back through prehistory, you see yourself as a fleshy widget, a product of commerce, another cog in the government’s machinery? 

This leads to the question, who do you belong to? Presently, as a child, you belong to your parents until the age of emancipation. What happens if the state has sole responsibility over you and you’re seen as a replaceable component of the system? If the state had the authority to birth you, could they not have the sole authority to terminate you?

With this, the elements for a good horror story fell into place. That the mother who bore you is the same monster who will devour you.

Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.

No Spam Calls in the Future

Futurists like to give us a rosy view of tomorrow, mostly because they're funded by technologists with something big to sell, never mind the negative consequences. On the flip side, novels about the future tend to be bleak and the setting is often quite dystopian. Three of the landmark works about this grim future are 1984, Brave New World, and We. Most of us are familiar with George Orwell's 1984 and its oppressive totalitarian theme. In fact, "Big Brother is watching" is synonymous for government and corporate surveillance. Aldous Huxley's Brave New World takes a lighter, though ultimately just as constrictive view of a future society managed through biological engineering. Individuals are brought into this world through a decanting process that determines their station in life. What we consider natural birth is regarded as obscene. People are kept docile through officially sanctioned casual sex, group think (social media, anyone?) and the drug soma. "Don't give a damn, take a gram."

Both of these books draw quite a bit from an earlier Russian novel, We, by Yevgeny Zamyatin, first published in 1920. In this work, people live in glass houses, literally. They are allowed one hour a day "to lower the shades," meaning time for casual sex. Aside from that, there is no notion of privacy. Although Zamyatin intended this story as a critique of Soviet totalitarianism, read today, it's a fantastic satire of how our online lives have taken mastery of our existence. Google, Facebook, Twitter, Amazon--the Internet sees all, it knows all.

Which brings me to another more modern novel, Altered Carbon, by Richard K. Morgan (Now available on Netflix). It too is a dystopian tale, one that disturbed me when I first read it. The salient premise is that in this future, humans are implanted with an electronic "cordial stack," which downloads your consciousness. As long as the cordial stack remains undamaged, your consciousness can be swapped from body to body, what the book calls "re-sleeving." It's an extraordinary inventive piece of science fiction, and Morgan further delves into the premise by thinking through the consequences of swapping bodies. For example, you can testify at your own murder. In his world, the process is quite expensive--the cost equivalent of a house mortgage--so that "re-sleeving" remains the domain of the government and the wealthy. So the rich have the financial means of switching bodies as casually as the rest of us change clothes and thus the ability to be immortal.

On my second reading of Altered Carbon, years later, I stumbled over a detail that emphasized just how difficult it is now for science fiction to remain ahead of science fact, even for a work as trail blazing as this one. When the protagonist used a fob to summon a flying taxi, I thought, why doesn't he use the app on his mobile phone? Then I realized, his phone was simply that, a phone. But many of us seldom make calls on our phones; we mostly communicate via text, email, and instant messenger, something that's not done in this story. Also, Altered Carbon is a mystery so there's a lot of sleuthing about and looking for people. Again, why would that be necessary? We all know we can be tracked by our phones; why couldn't these future people be easily followed by their cordial stacks?

Smart phones represent a technology whose implications we still have a hard time understanding. Besides compromising privacy, they provide a deeply engaging experience that makes their use addictive. One tragic and unintended consequence is how they've facilitated distracted driving so that in the last two years, traffic fatalities have increased because of cell phones.

And I need to mention, that in those very different futures sans cell phones, people are never bothered by telemarketers.