Diana Schaub, in her recent essay for The New Atlantis entitled Methuselah and Us, decides to wander into the debate about whether or not death-- mortality-- is a moral and communal goal to be accepted, or a moral and communal evil to be resisted.
She starts her essay with a description of the human condition, and does well by quoting Shakespeare. Then she outlays a few paragraphs in which she describes the state of the art in conquering death, in turning back the clock, and in restoring to us what we have lost as a result of age. The "state of the art" isn't very much, but at least it has promise.
She then goes on to argue any such attempts to turn back the clock are not morally worthwhile. So, what does she choose to use as her source of moral instruction?
Star Trek.
Specifically, Miri and Requiem For Methuselah. The first about a group of children who live a very long time as children, but die upon reaching puberty; the latter about a very long-lived man who is despondent because he has nothing left to learn or to offer mankind.
Anyone who uses Star Trek as a moral compass is in serious trouble anyway, given the way that Star Trek has repeatedly emphasized that the threshold at which a human being's actions become noxious and must be contained is very low, if those actions have any chance of making a difference. All Kirk ever did in his violations of the prime directive was preserve a status quo. Star Trek, like much of the "bioethics" movement, is stuck in the "There are things man was not meant to know" frame of mind. Star Trek is collectivist in nature; individuals are statistics, not sacred in their own right.
Requiem for Methuselah is the most problematic. The character, Flint, is Leonardo DaVinci-- an immortal human living alone in the middle of nowhere, building his perfect woman out of an android. The android learns to understand and want freedom from the Enterprise crew.
Nevermind the terrible flaw in the whole robotics argument, which is bad from start to end. The whole point of the characters is that he's dead-ended, but it's never explained why. "That's just the way things are," the excuse goes.
There is no reason to believe such misanthropic twaddle is true. Flint had plenty of opportunities to learn more, do more, contribute more. And if he was truly unhappy with his lot, the Star Trek universe does permit one "personal decision," suicide.
One personal decision, and no other. Every Star Trek where the technology to change oneself for the better, to improve one's mind or emotional well-being, is introduced has been a lesson in "one should not want such things," either ending badly or banned because "the other ones ended badly." Entirely author's fiat.
Star Trek is not speculative fiction. It is not about the future; it is and always has been about the era in which it was filmed. Its technological lessons are about what we can and cannot do today. It makes a virtue of death because humans make virtues out of necessities as a matter of course. "If we can't do anything about it, it must be God's will and God's will is always good, so it must be good" is the refrain, and death is the most obvious, most unavoidable of all "things we can't do anything about."
Schaub, in speculating about the future, not only looked only at the present, she chose to look at the past-- a misinformed and morally questionable past. Star Trek tells us to be happy with our lot, because change is disruptive and bad; it's a siren song about how the future will be exactly like the present, more of the same. If DaVinci had Schaub and Roddenberry's morals, he would have burned his notebooks rather than let such dangerous speculations loose in the world.
She starts her essay with a description of the human condition, and does well by quoting Shakespeare. Then she outlays a few paragraphs in which she describes the state of the art in conquering death, in turning back the clock, and in restoring to us what we have lost as a result of age. The "state of the art" isn't very much, but at least it has promise.
She then goes on to argue any such attempts to turn back the clock are not morally worthwhile. So, what does she choose to use as her source of moral instruction?
Star Trek.
Specifically, Miri and Requiem For Methuselah. The first about a group of children who live a very long time as children, but die upon reaching puberty; the latter about a very long-lived man who is despondent because he has nothing left to learn or to offer mankind.
Anyone who uses Star Trek as a moral compass is in serious trouble anyway, given the way that Star Trek has repeatedly emphasized that the threshold at which a human being's actions become noxious and must be contained is very low, if those actions have any chance of making a difference. All Kirk ever did in his violations of the prime directive was preserve a status quo. Star Trek, like much of the "bioethics" movement, is stuck in the "There are things man was not meant to know" frame of mind. Star Trek is collectivist in nature; individuals are statistics, not sacred in their own right.
Requiem for Methuselah is the most problematic. The character, Flint, is Leonardo DaVinci-- an immortal human living alone in the middle of nowhere, building his perfect woman out of an android. The android learns to understand and want freedom from the Enterprise crew.
Nevermind the terrible flaw in the whole robotics argument, which is bad from start to end. The whole point of the characters is that he's dead-ended, but it's never explained why. "That's just the way things are," the excuse goes.
There is no reason to believe such misanthropic twaddle is true. Flint had plenty of opportunities to learn more, do more, contribute more. And if he was truly unhappy with his lot, the Star Trek universe does permit one "personal decision," suicide.
One personal decision, and no other. Every Star Trek where the technology to change oneself for the better, to improve one's mind or emotional well-being, is introduced has been a lesson in "one should not want such things," either ending badly or banned because "the other ones ended badly." Entirely author's fiat.
Star Trek is not speculative fiction. It is not about the future; it is and always has been about the era in which it was filmed. Its technological lessons are about what we can and cannot do today. It makes a virtue of death because humans make virtues out of necessities as a matter of course. "If we can't do anything about it, it must be God's will and God's will is always good, so it must be good" is the refrain, and death is the most obvious, most unavoidable of all "things we can't do anything about."
Schaub, in speculating about the future, not only looked only at the present, she chose to look at the past-- a misinformed and morally questionable past. Star Trek tells us to be happy with our lot, because change is disruptive and bad; it's a siren song about how the future will be exactly like the present, more of the same. If DaVinci had Schaub and Roddenberry's morals, he would have burned his notebooks rather than let such dangerous speculations loose in the world.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-19 12:32 pm (UTC)Admittedly this is only small part of the value of the brain. Even from a finite set of ingredients, a somewhat enormous number of combinations can be generated. Even if learning more would mean having to sacrifice some of the earlier knowledge, definitely capacity to doing and inventing is not lessened.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-19 12:54 pm (UTC)As to using Star Trek as a 'moral compass'... yep, it probably isn't the best idea in the world, but it's hardly the worst either. I grew up with Trek (TOS) and to be honest, I suspect a lot of my own ideas regarding equality, honor, and responsibility come from that rather than from my parents (who were still living a '50's sort of lifestyle, to be honest). The one thing TOS was good for was to make one think...whether one agreed or not was almost beside the point. There were episodes I agreed and disagreed with, but it made me at least think about the 'topic' of the week. Judging from some of the comments I've heard about TNG and DS9, the same is true today.
Everything I Learned...
Date: 2004-03-19 01:16 pm (UTC)I tend to agree with Elf that the stance of "there are things men are not meant to meddle with" has always made my neo-luddite detectors go wild -- I know people who pretty much have that stance, and will argue with me over the concept that just because we CAN do it, doesn't mean we should. When I try to point out that people should have the right to choose for themselves, the typical response is to declare that people will make "incorrect" decisions, and the REAL basis for the desired suppression of technological advancement becomes crystal clear: Fear. After all, if people are free to choose, then it's inevitable that either something terrible will happen as a result (vague fears of some sort of bioengineered or other techcatastrophe, perhaps the dreaded nanotech induced "grey goo" effect) or that people who choose NOT to evolve themselves will somehow be left behind or isolated because of their choices... perhaps even forced to evolve against their will.
I must admit there's a basis for either outcome. Look at how we view groups like the Amish, and think of the disasters brought about by the mis-use of modern technology. Personally, I believe that it's pretty moot regardless of one's position -- as Elf pointed out not too long ago, suppression of a technology is a losing game, especially when immortality is on the line. I suspect even Schaub, when confronted with her own mortality, might sneak off to some far off clinic even as she maintained her public stance against the very thing that saves her life.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-19 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-19 10:33 pm (UTC)Very high capacity I can accept. Infinite... Not within a finite universe.