Science Friction: When Imagination and Reality Collide
"It is like something out of a sci-fi novel".
This phrase, which, to some effect, we have likely all heard, or even spoken ourselves, becomes more relevant with each passing year. The unprecedented rate at which technology has advanced, even just within the last 20 years, is challenging to ignore.
Ethical concerns surrounding the use of genetic engineering in fields like agriculture and medicine have long been a topic of debate.
Since OpenAI's release of ChatGPT in 2022, the use of artificial intelligence has gained exponential popularity throughout society.
Yet, years before these concepts became tangible, they were known to us intuitively through what seems like eerily predictive fiction. Though, as we will explore, the true nature of the relationship between science fiction and reality is likely more complicated.
While pivotal early science fiction books like Mary Shelley's 1818 "Frankenstein" and H.G Wells' 1896 "The Island of Dr. Moreau" dealt with ideas like human mutation and animal hybridization, it was scientist J.B.S Haldane's 1924 "Daedalus; or, the Science of the Future" that arguably got closest to foreseeing modern genetic engineering. It discussed self-directed evolution and in-vitro fertilization, which were especially revolutionary concepts in the first quarter of the 20th century, about 25 years before scientists pieced together the basis of how genetic material is transferred and what it consists of.
Artificial intelligence is thought to have had its start in fiction with Samuel Butler's 1872 "Erewhon". Inspired by Charles Darwin's then recent foundational evolutionary biology book "On the Origin of Species", Erewhon discussed the ideas of machine consciousness and self-replication. Since then, artificial intelligence has been explored in utopian and dystopian contexts, with examples including Data from Star Trek for the former, and William Gibson's 1984 "Neuromancer" for the latter.
When imagination and reality collide, it can be discomforting. New technology comes with a slew of implications. It can be difficult to understand how something works, with researchers sometimes struggling to convey complex mechanisms to the public in a digestible way. Often, one of the most harrowing admissions from scientists to the public is when even they, the experts, do not fully grasp how something may work, or how it will impact society in the long term. Fear of the unknown is a powerful motif in science fiction, largely because of how deeply it is reflected in real anxieties surrounding technology and the future.
Certain individuals or groups of people may be more trusting of some technologies over others, based on the information they have available, their previous experiences, or even gut feelings.
The contention surrounding genetic engineering of crops, for example, is an interesting topic to consider. In the 2004 book "Tomorrow's Table", plant geneticist Dr. Pamela Ronald considers the potential that genetic modification could solve major global issues like Vitamin A nutrient deficiency and poor food production due to natural flooding in rice fields. These cases contrast the public's perceived incompatibility between sustainable food production and genetic engineering. Organic agriculture movements reject the presence of genetically engineered food, often considering these products to be similarly dangerous to chemical pesticides, despite a general consensus that genetically engineered foods do not pose health risks. Why, then, does genetic engineering of crops get put in such a bad light by sustainability activists? In part, because of the history that surrounds the story of genetic engineering. For many years, genetic engineering efforts were directed towards protecting target crops against adverse effects associated with exposure to pesticides, such as glyphosate. This, in turn, is thought by many to have increased reliance on harmful chemicals in agriculture, making genetic engineering antithetical to sustainability in food production. Even though several modern efforts to genetically engineer crops seek to enhance nutritional content, as is seen with Norfolk's anthocyanin-rich Purple Tomato, the concept of mixing DNA from different organisms, coupled with the field's unsavory history, is enough for many to remain wary of the practice.
The Frankenstein Complex, coined by classic science fiction author Isaac Asimov, is, curiously, often used to describe the fear that artificial intelligence will turn against humanity, much like how Frankenstein's neglected monster turned against its maker in the original story. The Terminator franchise leaned into this, embedding in many a deep-seated fear that has, to some degree, persisted throughout generations. Currently, it seems as though compromising one's critical thinking abilities and AI-induced psychosis are more pressing worries than a computer militarizing itself against the human race. Dr. Scott Anthony, a professor of Business Administration at Dartmouth University, said he found a distinct divide in opinions regarding AI usage amongst his students. Some embraced its new technological potential, while others expressed concern, and at times even existential fear of using it due to possibly "[losing] their humanity" .
With all this in mind, it is interesting to consider that science fiction is not only influenced by human imagination and changing technologies around us. The fictional worlds we create and consume are powerful curators of our perceptions of the future.
In Chapter 10 of the 2021 bioengineering anthology Nature Remade, Luis A. Campos writes about how science fiction influenced public views of emerging technologies. Campos considers Michael Crichton's 1969 "The Andromeda Strain" to have fueled, and even created certain fears associated with alien life and biologically engineered organisms. Specifically, he mentions the 1975 Asilomar Conference, in which the fictional Andromeda strain is referenced in the context of biohazards potentially associated with (then novel) recombinant DNA research.
From this view, reality and science fiction interact with each other bidirectionally. The world around us influences the stories we tell, which, likewise, influence our world. It is up to us to be active narrators, choosing how we will support, reject, and use new forms of technology that, inevitably, will continue to evolve.