Flying cars, they said.
Unfortunately for us, it’s as if we’re about one and a half historical moments away from the end of civilization. Whether it be doomsday movies, propaganda or literature, we have always feared (or fantasized) about the end times.
The exact origins of dystopian literature are debated as the sense of impending doom is something each generation’s youth have in common. However, the genre began to catch its stride in the 20th century. Some of my favorite dystopian fiction takes place—more or less—today and rereading them have been both haunting and sobering. It’s incredible how spot on some of these literary anxieties are.
Not the biblical passage but the novel—Parable of the Sower—takes place in 2024 Los Angeles. Narrator, Lauren Olamina, navigates this post-apocalyptic time while suffering from hyper-empathy and consuming angst. The novel follows her development of “Earthseed”, which serves as her personally curated belief system to guide her through these dark times.
Using God is Change as an anchoring mantra, she evolves both as a person and a philosopher through turmoil and resistance.
There are a few key components that make me raise my brows and look over my shoulder while reading:
While not explicitly expressed, the cause of what’s later referred to as “The Pox” appears to be the boiling point of capitalism. The land is lawless, the environment is wrung out, and human decency is a rare commodity. Paranoia, crime and decay govern the nation.
We often talk about the middle class disappearing and Butler examines what that would actually look like: the haves and have nots with no in between. Today, at an arguable peak in human existence, we are experiencing unprecedented levels of global poverty. We are both excelling and suffering like never before. What does that look like? It looks like Palestine. It looks like Congo. It looks like Hawaii. It looks like genocide as content and price tags on human lives. It looks like Cybertrucks in one country and slavery in the next. It looks like empty apartment buildings on the streets where homeless people sleep.
Published roughly 30 years ago, Butler speculates about the sustainability of capitalism and organized religion as a coping mechanism. While she offers no solutions or solid advice, she offers perspective. “Earthseed”, as she calls it, encourages a collaborative relationship with community to endure, shape and be shaped by life.
Community is a strong survival tool in this novel. It’s a symbol of civilization, hope and security. So much so that after the narrator’s is raided and destroyed, she prioritizes building one for Earthseed. Like a religious figure, Olamina travels through California, adopting members and sewing seeds of insight and knowledge.
With today’s insane cost of living and increasing sense of social paranoia, the people yearn for community.
Today? It looks like book club, club sports, and (interestingly enough) dating. Book club listings on Eventbrite saw a 24% increase, club sports are reaching record participation rates and dating sites are noticeably oversaturated. The data says people are not only lonely but are seeking connection in any form.
While community is not a new phenomenon, the increased thirst for it is noteworthy. 30 years ago, Butler takes the inherent importance of community and places it in the context of pure chaos. It’s just as important to us as it is to Olamina and Butler.
Literary hitmaker, Ernest Cline, wrote his freshman novel as an ode to 1980’s pop culture. It follows a virtual hunt for fortune and control. As the Earth soils around them, the OASIS— a virtual world—, was created to provide an escape from and alternatives to the worsening conditions in reality.
When the creator of the OAISIS, James Halliday, dies, he hides his legacy and assets as a series of easter eggs for the rest of the world to find. As the future of the OASIS is fought over, the Earth around them continues to collapse into ruin. Though whimsical and entertaining, the novel is also a caricature of our habits today.
Though technology is powerfully productive, its omnipotence makes it harder to escape the escapism. So much of life happens on our screens as we continue to separate ourselves from the responsibility to care and participate in the world around us. We watch cops shoot people from point blank range, right in the comfort of our homes. It fuels a destructive detachment from the atrocities of the world. A detachment that strips us of our empathy. A detachment that can criminalize homelessness, antagonize victimhood and criticize joy and kindness. Much of what society is like today, especially online.
During my childhood, in the early 2000’s, social media felt lawless. During the lockdown in 2020, it mutated into a polished tool to deliver updates about not only the world but between friends, family and loved ones. Today, social media is pretty much the center of our world. It’s how most young people get their news, socialization and even personal opinions1. It’s limitless connection and borderless community, and it’s all at the tip of our fingers— killing us and the planet.
The premise of Ready Player One is digital escapism. Published in 2011 and set in 2045, we appear to be half way there and right on schedule for our own lives to also hang on the results of a stupid competition… (like an election, perhaps).
From hearing mesothelioma class action suit commercials in my sleep as a child to the recent Juul class action suit, the common man has always been responsible for their own redemption. In Ready Player One, it’s Innovative Online Industries vs everyone else. The other competitors are out not only to win fortune and control for themselves but to ultimately keep it out of IOI’s corruptive hands. Their plans for monthly fees, advertisements and less freedom in the OASIS should sound familiar. Today, our virtual social circles are plagued with advertisements and advertisement designed as content. It’s over stimulating and exhausting. However, history tells us that change does not happen until the common man bands together and pursues it.
I’ve seen it happen plenty, especially as a Black woman. I’ve marched for gun control, civil rights, and awareness. I’ve seen rights restored and revoked in a single life time. I have seen people band together to create change and prevent it. However, I’ve never seen it start from the top. It always starts with the common man banding together. It will always start that way.
Suzanne Collin’s The Hunger Games takes place several decades into the near future. However, we don’t need that long to fulfill its prophecy. The book centers around an annual, brutal battle royale among tributed children from the region’s twelve districts. We follow protagonist Katniss Everdeen into the arena after she volunteers in place of her younger sister, eventually finding herself as the face of a revolution.
While we do not have a literal hunger games, we do send our children out to die in the name of honor in many, more subtle and sinister ways. And like the novel, we are falling victim to a masterclass in propaganda and fear mongering. Today, when the American election is treated as a pop culture event and headless children are being broadcasted with ads, people are more paranoid and desperate (therefore more violent).
The hunger games is predicated on civilian violence, particularly orchestrated by the government. Creating a public enemy is a very simple way to increase patriotism and war, of any kind, is very profitable.
My ring app is constantly flooded with civilian violence. In fact, civilian violence world wide has increased by over 70%2. Not to mention the amount of domestic fall outs, mass killings and genocides that happen today, we are reaching a global boiling point.
Today, civilian violence is entertainment. It sparks conversation, content and conflict— all of which are profitable. In the hunger games, it’s literal entertainment. It’s broadcasted, betted on and celebrated. These days, the most horrific videos go viral. Profit. The most gruesome stories make headlines. Profit. Empathy is scarce and respect is a luxury. We don’t need a literal hunger games to make profit from violence. We have American football and war to do the trick.
2. The use of propaganda
The hunger games, within the namesake novel, is dependent on propaganda and fear. Each district approaches it slightly differently but each cling to an ideology to cope with the annual ritual. The governing Capitol uses it to commemorate strength and power over its citizens. It’s an honor in every district for any number of somber or delusional reasons. However, everyone views it as an inevitable evil.
Today’s propaganda isn’t as blatant and obvious as it used to be. Especially considering the internet, propaganda seeps its way into most of the content we consume, often, without us even knowing it. From the war on terror to the paranoia around immigration to the concentration of mass media, propaganda is sneaky but especially potent today. Fear and hatred are profitable.
Awareness comes before action. Discernment comes before decision. The Hunger Games speculates on just how far blind obedience can go. For them, it’s send their children into a fatal arena. For us, it’s a number of things.
Literature gives us permission to explore, speculate and learn without all of the real world consequences. While books are being banned left and right, it’s important we ask ourselves “why?”. Why are they working so hard to moderate literature and classroom curriculum? What are they hiding? (And most importantly) Who are they?
Today, we have more impressive things than flying cars. More… impactful things.