The Inherent Libertarianism of Science Fiction
Hard SF is essentially libertarian, not because all hard SF writers are necessarily advocating libertarianism, or even believing in it, but because hard SF is necessarily based on two fundamental premises:
First, a vision of the future which contains capabilities which we do not have today.
Second, the idea that this empowerment, for better or worse, comes about through technological advancement, not philosophical, political, or social change.
Both these premises form the core of science fiction, and while a few examples do not adhere to them, these are labelled "science fiction" simply through lack of anywhere else to shelve them. Both premises are also inseparably libertarian and optimistic, and those values infiltrate even science fiction which is written with the opposite intent.
The "Culture" series of novels, written by Marxist Ian Banks, for example, posits a future society of socialists ruled by near-omnipotent benevolent AI dictators (and supplied with an endless stream of mustache-twirling Saturday morning cartoon villains to effortlessly defeat).
However, the tropes conventions imported by Banks to populate his soft-SF space opera still carry the essential worldview of their hard(er) SF origins, even into the universe of an author who would very much like to disagree.
Banks’s socialist utopia is enabled and brought about not by voting left, nor by rising up and casting off the shackles of the bourgeoisie, but by the invention of omniscient and omnibenevolent AI overlords, and of post-scarity magical production technologies. Similarly, the all-good socialist humans of the Culture triumph over the evil sadistic alien race du jour not by adherence to Marxist doctrine, or the noble labors of the proletariat, but by the possession of superior technology.
The implicit admission that progress is achieved through technological knowledge, rather than policy, is baked into the very idea of science fiction, because a speculative work about a utopia brought about by religion or social change wouldn’t be science fiction at all.
Class struggle, therefore, is entirely eclipsed in SF, or at the very least relegated to second chair, regardless of what the author feels or wants.
Of course, genres are for readers, not writers. They serve to allow bookstores and libraries to shelve books, and readers to find them. Writers can write what we please. But when we choose to write SF, and play in its sandbox with the toys that hard SF invented, libertarianism sneaks in the back door even if we do not invite it in the front.
Many readers and even many writers don’t notice this, because it isn’t political libertarianism, the sort of advocates policies of personal responsibility and liberty. It is instead an observational, non-normative libertarianism, which observes that it is know-how and the freedom to act, which empower humanity to improve its scope, capabilities, and situation.
Even dystopias and cautionary tales such as Alas, Babylon, or A Canticle for Lebowitz do not contradict this rule, because their function in SF is to serve as warnings about the misuse and possible consequences of technology, not the actions of the evil bourgeoisie or the godless atheist heretics.
The acknowledgement that technology is the driving force of history relegates all political philosophies and bureaucratic system to the passenger seat in the great human adventure... they do not determine the direction of history, they only react to the technology which does.
This is why the gloomy, strident, Wellesley-educated Marxist women of modern Tradpub have never fully succeeded in stomping on science fiction beyond the superficial corruption of a few cons and SF awards. Marxists may excel at infiltrating organizations, but SF, at its core, is an attitude and a way of understanding the world(s). It does not rely on organizations, and thus it leaves the Marxist with nothing to infiltrate, subvert, and destroy. Inspired individuals can simply write, whether they are of the correct sex and skin color to win certain awards or not.
In order to co-opt science fiction, these characters would have to go full Fahrenheit 451, burning books and killing authors, rather than simply shunning or declining to publish them, because they cannot kill the demand …
… and they cannot supply it themselves. Any attempt to do so fails because Marxists simply cannot excise the key elements of science fiction... optimism and belief in technological progress. Any attempt to remove these simply results in something that can be labeled and shelved as SF, but which does not satisfy people looking for the genuine article.
One good thing about this form of inherent libertarianism is that it doesn’t fall into the literary trap of making the story nothing more than a delivery system for a message. This is partially because SF’s essential paradigm isn’t to preach, but to show.
To show what a different world looks like, though the eyes of different people.
To imagine the world as it might be, not to tell people what the world should be.
But it is also because the progress-oriented, liberty-oriented ideas of SF are based on ideas of what IS, not what people MUST DO. SF is pro-tech not because tech is morally right, or because we somehow venerate it, but because we observe that tech is what gets results.
That’s why we write about it in the first place. The role of science fiction isn’t to convince, but to inspire.
Recently a finalist for the Libertarian Futurist Society’s Prometheus Award, Devon’s novel Theft of Fire: Orbital Space #1 is currently a finalist for the Best Science Fiction Novel Dragon Award. This is serious. No indie author has made it onto the ballot in this category since 2017, and the Eriksen family could really use a “win” right about now. Voting is open to everyone, so if you read and enjoyed Devon’s book, you are highly encouraged to grab a free ballot & vote. The mildly-unintuitive voting process is explained in detail here. Our family medical emergency has basically paused my campaigning, so if you are reading this, please consider not just voting, but helping spread the word as well.
—Christine Eriksen
We’ve had one call-to-action, yes, but what about a second call-to-action? You thought by coming to Substack you’d be free of Christine Eriksen’s Signature Honking?? Think again!!
Theft of Fire: Orbital Space #1 is coming to audiobook! It will not be available on Audible, so pre-order your copy of this full-cast, personally-directed-by-the-author audiobook today!
“The role of science fiction isn’t to convince, but to inspire.”
Wonderfully stated!
I once read a short by the darling of the Marxist SF Infiltrators, Nora Jemisin. It was a slog. But it inspired me to dissect it in detail on my Wordpress blog (Good lord, five years ago!). It was supposed to be her "Answer" to Le Guinn's "The ones who walk away from Omelas" but she clearly didn't understand the point of the story. Instead, she constructed a utopia that could only be deemed such in her own imagination. The science fictional element was a device that would allow the users to communicate with an alternate universe, ostensibly ours. This was a danger to the utopia, since Jemisin's weird conceit is that to be exposed to an idea is to cause one to believe in it, which is why her Utopia has enforcers who track down users of the device and stab them humanely with a spear.
And yet, the people persist in finding out about something other than their paradise. They use this communicator. They are the libertarians, the free thinkers, and the Marxist's reaction is to snuff them out and consider it a good thing. That the Irony escapes them is probably merciful - their brains might explode otherwise.
If you're curious, it's at: https://drmauser.wordpress.com/2019/01/30/message-received/
Occasionally I've thought about writing the answer to this answer, from the POV of the free-thinking underground.