In a recent article published in the New York Times, author Casey Michael Henry argues that today’s tech industry keeps borrowing dystopian sci-fi aesthetics and ideas – often the parts that were meant as warnings – and repackages them as exciting products without recognizing that they were originally cautionary tales to avoid. “The tech industry is delivering on some of the futuristic notions of late-20th-century science fiction,” writes Henry. “Yet it seems, at times, bizarrely unaware that many of those notions were meant to be dystopian or satirical – dismal visions of where our worst and dumbest habits could lead us.” Here’s an excerpt from the report: * You worry that someone in today’s te…
In a recent article published in the New York Times, author Casey Michael Henry argues that today’s tech industry keeps borrowing dystopian sci-fi aesthetics and ideas – often the parts that were meant as warnings – and repackages them as exciting products without recognizing that they were originally cautionary tales to avoid. “The tech industry is delivering on some of the futuristic notions of late-20th-century science fiction,” writes Henry. “Yet it seems, at times, bizarrely unaware that many of those notions were meant to be dystopian or satirical – dismal visions of where our worst and dumbest habits could lead us.” Here’s an excerpt from the report: * You worry that someone in today’s tech world might watch “Gattaca” – a film that features a eugenicist future in which people with ordinary DNA are relegated to menial jobs – and see it as an inspirational launching point for a collaboration between 23andMe and a charter school. The material on Sora, for instance, can feel oddly similar to the jokes about crass entertainment embedded in dystopian films and postmodern novels. In the movie “Idiocracy,” America loved a show called “Ow! My Balls!” in which a man is hit in the testicles in increasingly florid ways. “Robocop” imagined a show about a goggle-eyed pervert with an inane catchphrase. “The Running Man” had a game show in which contestants desperately collected dollar bills and climbed a rope to escape ravenous dogs. That Sora could be prompted to imagine a game show in which Michel Foucault chokeslams Ronald Reagan, or Prince battles an anaconda, doesn’t feel new; it feels like a gag from a 1990s writer or a film about social decay.
The echoes aren’t all accidental. Modern design has been influenced by our old techno-dystopias – particularly the cyberpunk variety, with its neon-noir gloss and “high tech, low life” allure. From William Gibson novels to films like “The Matrix,” the culture has taken in countless ruined cityscapes, all-controlling megacorporations, high-tech body modifications, V.R.-induced illnesses, deceptive A.I. paramours, mechanical assassins and leather-clad hacker antiheroes, navigating a dissociative cyberspace with savvily repurposed junk-tech. This was not a world many people wanted to live in, but its style and ethos seem to reverberate in the tech industry’s boldest visions of the future.