Jorja
Book Cover for 'The Leftover Girl'
Alphane life (detail) , dome in distance
Han
Planet
Pseudo-crustacean
Planet Surface (Detail)
Priya
Marta
The Dome (detail)
Senhora Daguia
Rai
Su Ying
Book Cover for 'A Children's Crusade'
Nurse G
Pseudo-shrubs (detail)

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Category: Social breakdown

Be careful what you wish for

Be careful what you wish for

Lights in the Sky began as a series anticipating an environmental catastrophe known as ‘The Collapse’, which leads to a general breakdown of science, civil society and nation states, resulting in the reduction of Earth’s human population to roughly one third of what it is today. I pushed my environmental catastrophe back to the beginning of the twenty second century (something which looks naively optimistic from our standpoint in 2022), I also invented a grand project, the Alpha Mission which is able to send a Probe to our nearest neighbour in interstellar space, the Alpha Centauri system. Conveniently, (for this is fiction, after all) the Probe finds the perfect Earth-like planet in orbit around Alpha Centauri A, one of the three stars that make up the system, effects a landfall and uses its autonomic resources to build a base. The artificial intelligence which controls the Mission is then able to bring its human colonists into existence. 

Now before you accuse me of bandwagon jumping, I wrote the original short story that opens the series (then called Light-out) somewhere between the end of 2012 and beginning of 2013. I know this because I submitted the first draft of the story (without success) to Analog Science Fact and Fiction magazine on 20th April 2013. Many of the themes and concerns explored in the subsequent series of novels were not well known outside of SF circles, nor were they part of general public discourse at this point in our history. Few, for example, had heard of Elon Musk or SpaceX, that came later.

The Lights in the Sky series now stretches to seven completed novels, number eight (now retitled, hopefully for the last time, The Robot’s Progress) is nearing completion, and number nine (currently called Earthrise) is already underway.

I didn’t get everything right; for example, I didn’t anticipate a worldwide pandemic striking the planet in 2019/20; and, as mentioned previously, I have my breakdown of civilisation occurring at the beginning of the next century, when the middle of this one is now looking favourite. I was also unaware of the impact our rapidly diminishing groundwater reserves will have on the capacity of the world to feed its current population, let alone what is predicted.

But by and large, I think I did pretty well…

The notion that we should be seriously seeking a lifeboat for humanity in the form of a colony on a habitable world elsewhere, while a commonplace in SF circles, was not yet part of the zeitgeist. My version of the future sees a vast shadowy international body (the Alpha Project), funded by various governments, doing the heavy lifting, mainly because I had not anticipated the rise of commercial space exploration funded by billionaires.

I also shifted the location of our species’ lifeboat much further out. My technological solutions for getting my probe and its precious cargo to Alpha Centauri are not examples of ‘imaginary science’ in the tradition of Star Trek, but projections of existing technologies. Again, few people outside of research laboratories or the hard-core SF readership were talking about light sails as a means of crossing the interstellar gulf, now it has become a commonplace.   

All of the above is extremely gratifying, as one of the usual motivations for writing in the genre is to engage in prediction.  But I would also hasten to point out that this series is far more than an exercise in futurology, as story, character development, and philosophical discourse are at least as important, if not more so.

But don’t take my word for it; the first completed novel in the series, A Children’s Crusade, is published on this website, along with extracts from later novels in the series.

So why the caveat?     

Well, I don’t really want to be right about these things. Anticipating a future where billions of people will die well before their time is not a comfortable thought, and as this once remote possibility looms ever larger, the old saw ‘be careful what you wish for’, starts to appear uncomfortably apposite.

The Author   January 2022

Dramatic Irony

Dramatic Irony

The project launch of the James Webb Space Telescope comes weighted with irony. That such an immensely-expensive, but also immensely-powerful, scientific resource should be launched at this moment in our history serves to illustrate how close we have come to greatness and how near we are to extinction. JWST promises to look further than ever, both back in time and out into space, and will presumably provide much new valuable data, and maybe even answers to age-old questions.

However this scientific insight, which represents the pinnacle of our achievements as a species, looks likely to come too late to be anything other than a footnote to human history, serving as an epitaph for the scientific age that few, if any, will be left to appreciate.

You may accuse me of alarmism, and I would counter that this is an occupational hazard for any science fiction writer, especially in times like these. But I would also argue that the threats to our collective survival are legion and apparently increasing by the day. COVID 19 refuses to go quietly, avian flu makes a comeback, and COP26 appears more like a ‘cop-out’ with every passing day. Add these to the long-standing issues of sea level rise, continued decimation of the biosphere, and the increasing incidence of severe weather events, together with the largely-ignored threat posed by our rapid depletion of irreplaceable groundwater reserves, then I’d say we’ve got a problem.

In the Lights in the sky series of novels I push the general collapse of human civilisation back to the end of this century. But now it appears that I am being rather too optimistic, as the chances of our culture lasting past the middle of the century are looking increasingly remote.   

In the light of this, the James Webb Space Telescope programme looks quixotic in the extreme and the telescope seems likely to join Hubble, Voyager and all the rest, as silent monuments to our collective folly, forever adrift in the blackness of space.  

Maybe one day a space-faring civilisation will venture this way and encounter the remnants of our technological endeavours, starting first with radio transmissions, then microwave telecasts, before encountering the Voyager probes steadily tracking their way across interstellar space. Perhaps they will decipher the Golden Disc and reflect on our naive optimism and cultural hubris, before moving on to more profitable avenues of exploration. Or maybe they will delve into the heart of our system, meeting JWST at the second Lagrange point, before observing the ragtag bands of primitive hominids fighting for survival on the blasted remains of the marginally-habitable third planet.

If these putative starfarers possess any capacity for irony, perhaps they will reflect on their own tendency for hubris and give thanks that their own civilisation was never subject to the full weight of retributive justice.

The Author  December 2021

Anxious Times

Anxious Times

The worrying times we live in have elicited an artistic response from yours truly. After a gap of several years, I’ve finally written a completely new song from scratch. Appropriately enough, it’s entitled Anxious Times, and I include a sample of the lyrics below,

           Men fighting on the forecourts/Stuff’s missing from the shelves                                                                                     

           And everybody hides behind their closed doors                                              

          They’re all thinking  about themselves                                                                                                           

          Yeah, they’re all thinking  about themselves

I’m biased, but I think that this short extract indicates it’s an effective piece of reportage, a response to what, at the time, looked like a developing and worrying crisis. Since then we’ve slipped back into low-intensity crisis mode; the supermarket shelves still have big gaps, but at least we can fill-up our gas-guzzling automobiles. The song (based on a Major 7th riff I wrote for an existing song, but decided it was so good that I built a completely new song from it) is essentially a litany of modern age anxieties, both personal and general.

Essentially nothing has changed; COP26 produced some useful but rather limited agreements between the major polluting nations, but will they be implemented? The rich nations still refuse to bite the bullet, maintaining we can have our ‘green cake’ and eat it. That making everyone drive electric cars will be enough to combat global warming, and that we can still have endless growth providing it’s green growth. 

The truth of the matter is that any form of private automobile is a luxury we can no longer afford, and we must now switch en masse to walking, cycling and public transport, with our towns and cities being repurposed to accommodate this with smaller, local (and hopefully independent!) shops. The return of the high street, anyone?

The fallacy of endless economic growth also needs to be acknowledged, along with endless population growth. Our biosphere will just not sustain it, and the next crisis is going to be a shortage of fresh water, all over the world.

The other elephant in the conference room, that the delegates were careful to tiptoe around, is (of course) the role of the super-rich in all of this. The problem is that the various tech billionaires are individually richer than many of the  small countries that their indolence and obscene extravagance threaten to inundate.  

One can only hope that the likes of Musk and Bezos make good on their threat to leave Earth altogether and do move to Mars. Given the much lower gravity on the Red Planet, this is inevitably a one-way trip, even assuming they even make it there in the first place.

And I say good riddance, because without the drain on Earth’s resources resulting from their appalling wealth, the rest of us little people can concentrate on saving our Planet!

In the refuge provided by the fictional world of Lights in the Sky, Klara the robot has joined with a tribe of indigenes called the Yanomami. They are on a quest together, seeking the fabled Comunidades Livres, a place also foretold in Yanomama mythology. Currently they are journeying along Rio Tapauá through the Green Heart of Amazonas, far away from the dangers of the Portuguese world. 

But Klara knows that the Europeans stand between them and their goal.

The Author   November 2021

Reset

Reset

As I’ve said before in this blog, we live in worrying times. Previous entries have addressed other recent threats to our well-being; principally populist rulers, unaccountable billionaires and the organisations they run, including their corrosive and equally unaccountable social media platforms; but these all pale into insignificance beside the clear and present danger, which has come sharply into focus in the current news cycle. The existential threat posed by the collapse of the biosphere will mean the end of human civilisation and cannot be mitigated by technological fixes despite all self-serving claims to the contrary. The likes of Boris Johnson waffle on about ‘Green Capitalism’ as an acceptable version which would allow for continued economic growth. But as a number of commentators have pointed out, any economic growth is in the end unsustainable, and the only way out of the coming catastrophe is to drastically reduce the size of the world economy and with it the size of the world’s population.

When very rich people start buying up land in geographically-isolated places such as New Zealand, and tech billionaires draw up serious plans to colonise Mars as a back-up planet to Earth, then it’s time for everybody to worry.

However most people don’t have the options of the super-rich, and the number of sufficiently-isolated islands with the resources to support a significant population is necessarily finite. Those wealthy people wishing to seek this kind of asylum will need to act quickly, as the drawbridges are likely to be lifted very soon. You can probably think of the quarantines imposed recently by the likes of Australia and New Zealand as a sort of dry run for what they will be forced to do again later. And in the end it may be to no avail, as the populous and militarily-powerful nations at most risk of collapse are unlikely to just sit on their hands when things get desperate. Ecological collapses in the past have always led to warfare and violence, just ask the Easter Islanders!

At some point in the near future, a one-way trip into indentured servitude on Mars is going to look like a very attractive proposition, and millions will be applying.

Ironies abound in our current predicament; that we should have reached this point when pure science has enabled us to gain a frighteningly-sophisticated understanding of the Cosmos and our place in it, is merely the most poignant. But it’s not pure science which is the villain here, it’s the application of that science in technology, and the Abrahamic social and economic doctrines pursued by all urbanized societies which have brought us here. 

And the reset part?

This is not a new phenomenon for our planet; mass extinctions are par for the course, although the active complicity of a sentient race in the process is (as far as we are aware) a new variant.

In the end the planet doesn’t care, it has a built-in self-correction mechanism. If things move too far in one direction it acts (blindly one assumes) to correct the imbalances that have built up within the system. All that pesky carbon will eventually be safely locked up again and the climate will return to something less inimical to higher forms of life. But in the meantime (and we’re talking millions of years here), evolution will be reset, starting again with the few hardy and adaptable species able to survive both the collapse and the testing times that follow, and it will be their descendants who eventually inherit the Earth. 

Whether any of these creatures will achieve sentience is, of course, unknowable.

And if you’ve wondered why we’ve never been contacted by a technologically-advanced species from another star system…

The Author   October 2021

The real enemy

The real enemy

The actual result of the Euro 2020 final on Sunday turned out to be the least of our worries; of far more concern is the ticketless thugs forcing their way into Wembley (fer Christ’s sake!) during the final of the European Soccer Championship. These ‘England supporters’ also punched stewards, terrorised legitimate ticket holders and caused damage to the stadium. Others (presumably legitimate ticket holders) booed the Italian National Anthem, while an attention-seeking reality tv star invaded the pitch. 

Monday’s papers brought the news that a British Grand Prix racing driver was attacked and relieved of his £40,000 watch (a gift from his team) in a supposedly-secure stadium car park. In purely-footballing terms this and other incidents has probably put paid to any chance Britain and Ireland had of staging the 2030 FIFA World Cup, but that’s not really the issue.

Away from the stadium, the West End is trashed, England players are savagely attacked by racists on social media, drunk and stoned thugs parade around our town and city centres, threatening people for dining in Italian restaurants (or even just eating pizza!), without a police officer in sight. I personally witnessed this in Birmingham’s New Street on the day after the final.

What this tells us is that criminality and public disorder in this country is getting out of hand, and the real enemy isn’t the Italian soccer team, nor is it the European Union, it’s actually a violent and social media-organised minority who appear to be taking over our streets.

And we know where the blame for all this lies, don’t we?

The man who has cut the budget for policing, decimated youth services, attacked and undermined the judiciary, and subverted Parliament. The man whose vacillations would even alarm the protagonist in a Wood Allen movie! Hiding behind the door so recently and opportunistically plastered with England flags (those vanished pretty smartish, didn’t they? presumably as soon as the winning Italian penalty hit the back of the net!). The same gleaming black door that will soon be issuing excuses and announcing abrupt policy U-turns, as COVID 19 explodes once more and we’re all back in lockdown. 

The problem with Johnson is that, on the surface, he’s plausible. Unlike his role-models around the globe, our Prime Minister is not obviously-deranged, nor is he on first name terms with genocidal dictators. Johnson says the right things (even if he doesn’t mean them), while coincidentally giving out messages of encouragement to the extremists and nutters who form much of his core support.

I referenced in the past the notion of the Antichrist as a metaphor for the various difficulties that threaten us. The problem would appear to be that rather than just the one promised in Revelations, we are beset by a multitude of them. The aforementioned genocidal dictators now being joined by a new wave of megalomaniacal billionaires from Silicon Valley, who have the gall to pretend they’re actually saving us!

All of these people share one obvious character trait with ‘the Father of Lies’, and together with their legions of supporters they constitute the real enemy…  

The Author   July 2021

Escaping unpleasant realities

Escaping unpleasant realities

This strangest of years continues its tortured course, and we all remain in limbo, asking ourselves when the grownups in the room are going to step up and start running things again…
And this question is getting quite pressing; I personally don’t think the United States will survive another four years of the current administration without serious political violence, and the only parties who will benefit from this are China and Russia.
Europe will survive our departure, but I don’t think we’ll be so lucky; mass unemployment and national bankruptcy are looking likely, the break-up of the United Kingdom and the collapse of our political institutions are both outside possibilities.
And the pandemic looms over everything, putting all of our futures on hold…
Unsurprisingly, I spend as much time as possible in my fictional world, the real world being so unutterably bleak.
In the world of Lights in the sky, Marta, with the help of her allies João Azevedo and Globo Television and the support of her agent cum manager, Salvador Perez, has been able to take control of her life and continue her process of self-actualisation.
By buying her estate in Minas Gerais, she is also able for the first time to build a life separate from São Paulo, the Show and the Alpha Mission. She also accepts Salvador as her new lover.
At the same time, she fulfills her long-term ambition of becoming the anchor of the Alpha Mission Hour and effectively becoming the Earthly representative of the Children on Alpha. Ironically, it is an unintended consequence of the death of her friend and companion, Sophie Valente, that facilitates this.
All this comes at a price as she becomes distanced from those who formerly were her friends.
The Author September 2020

Not the end, then?

Not the end, then?

Sometimes you convince yourself that you’ve reached the end of something only to find you haven’t. This has happened several times with Lights in the sky, which started life as a short story, submitted (unsuccessfully) to Analog magazine, became a novel, grew into a trilogy and over the past few years has become a septet…
Well, it’s happened again…
I was always conscious that I needed to tell the story of various minor (and not so minor) characters introduced at various points during the series arc, and have found many ingenious ways of doing this. The story of Klara, the original self-aware automaton, and thus the prototype for all the nursemaids on Alpha 5, was to have been accommodated as a parallel narrative within …when you wish upon a star, which otherwise concerns itself with the story of the original Marta on Earth.
I’d written five ‘interludes’, telling Klara’s story from inception in the Alpha Mission laboratory of Dr Helen Choi, right through to her demise at the hands of a marauding band of Camposetta irregulars, more than half a century later. But when it came to it, this felt unsatisfactory, an unnecessarily perfunctory end for a much-loved character, however shocking in its brutal suddenness it might have been.
The solution was obvious; Klara will get her own book and so her future existence, beyond the confines of …when you wish upon a star, can be fully explored.
As usual the source material for the character’s future arc is to be found in the character’s thoughts, beliefs and actions. Without wishing to give anything away about a work in progress, it will become clear that her subsequent actions are entirely consistent with what we already know about her in the four chapters that currently exist.
The provisional title of the eighth book in the series is Klara, but this may change, and work on it will commence in earnest once the current novel is completed
Back in the increasingly surrealistic ‘real world’, it is clear neither Brexit nor the Pandemic will be resolved soon. We exist in the same curious but fevered state, swinging between fearing the worst, while seizing on the smallest crumb of comfort in the media that reassures us that things might not be quite as bad as anticipated.
As ever, COVID-19 is the great unknown; we just don’t know nearly enough about the virus that causes it to predict its long-term effects on our society, economy and personal well-being. We don’t even know for sure how many people have been infected, as the vast majority of cases appear to be asymptomatic, which makes a reliable estimate of the death rate from Coronavirus extremely difficult. We have no idea when (or if) it will mutate and whether this will make it more or less dangerous, though evidence from previous pandemics would appear to suggest that the ‘second wave’ will be worse than the first. Whether being asymptomatic the first time round will protect people from future infection, is again unknown, as is whether any of the dozens of potential vaccines currently being developed around the world will even be partially-effective.
This uncertainty is corrosive of our institutions whether they be commercial, political, artistic or sporting, and the long term implications of all of this can only emerge over time.
Brexit, by contrast, is more straightforward, as it becomes clearer by the day how damaging, short-sighted, irrational and essentially masochistic this whole enterprise is. I note that highly skilled and qualified people are already voting with their feet and choosing to relocate to countries within the Eurozone. They will presumably be followed by the flight of capital, as the wealthy (who are, of course, in possession of more than one passport) begin to remove themselves and their wealth from poor old Blighty, once the shit really begins to hit the fan. Ironically, the Brexit-supporting amongst them may be forced by deteriorating conditions in the United States, to relocate to Europe, of all places, where they will presumably continue to either, assure the rest of us that everything is going swimmingly, or blame us for the fact that it’s not. To quote an anonymous ballad sung by British soldiers in the Great War,

It’s the same the whole world over.
It’s the poor wot get’s the blame,
It’s the rich wot get’s the gravy,
Ain’t it all a bleeding shame?

The transformation of Kent into one huge lorry park, the end of most foreign travel, and shortages of food and essential medicines in the New Year are likely to be only the start…
But, of course, things may all turn out for the better…

The Author August 2020

A new and terrible world

A new and terrible world

A few days ago a friend of mine sent me an image of a notice in a bookshop which had (presumably) been altered to read, Please note: the post apocalyptical [sic] fiction section has been moved to Current Affairs. I replied to her as follows: Unfortunately, my literary output has been somewhat prescient, sorry…
This brought home to me how much our lives and our country has been transformed in the month since my last post. I don’t recall the exact death toll as of April 6th, but consulting a linear graph of total deaths online reveals it to have been roughly 5,000. This is bad enough, but I’m sure that nobody (least of all the UK Government) anticipated that it would be more than 30,000 at the start of May, and that we would have the highest total in Europe, and second only to the United States worldwide. An article I read in today’s Guardian described the death of so many elderly care home residents as ‘a harvest’, and argued it was the result of Government’s short-lived policy of seeking herd immunity, which was undertaken (and then abandoned) without the necessary safeguarding measures being implemented to protect this vulnerable group. All of which suggests, if not actual callousness, a cavalier disregard for public safety, and will ensure that the Public Enquiry which is bound to follow will be keenly anticipated, if not by ministers in the present government.
It is not a comfortable experience to find that events and consequences that you had fondly imagined were confined to the pages of your latest novel have now turned up on the front pages of the newspapers and are suffusing daily life. All of which makes me more wary about actively seeking publication for this series, given that there are probably enough lunatics out there for whom the boundary between fiction and real life is sufficiently blurred for them to want to seek revenge against those who they somehow deem guilty of bringing the apocalypse about by anticipating it. If people can attack mobile phone masts, then what price a poor old novelist.
And while I did not reference infectious disease as one of the drivers of my literary apocalypse, preferring the rather more visual combination of fire, flood and civil disorder, neither did Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.
In my defence, I will say that my breakdown of civilization does eventually lead to a kinder and more rational world, not that this would be of any consolation to the paper billions I consign to a brutal and premature death.
Anyway, it is what it is…
My speculations were based on future threats to our biosphere and our civilization set out by a whole host of scientists and cultural commentators, and set within a long literary tradition. It’s rather unfortunate that at least one of them has chosen to arrive rather sooner than anyone anticipated.
Lights in the sky continues to take shape, blissfully unaware that life has now decided to imitate art. I’ve decided to just write until I finish the story, which may mean a final novel approaching eight hundred pages, which I would then divide into two volumes.
Which all leads to the inevitable question; which comes first? The end of the series or the end of the world?
On that cheery note…
The Author May 2020

The Rise of Unreason revisited

The Rise of Unreason revisited

Back in less alarming times, I wrote a blog entry entitled The Rise of Unreason derived from a minor key blues song I wrote back in the eighties. The blog entry (and later versions of the song) referenced the rise of irrational belief systems in contemporary culture, arguing that this tendency, reflected in the popularity of fundamentalist religious views, had now been augmented by irrational behaviour not linked to specific belief systems, but based purely on rumour and conspiracy theories spread online.
There was a time when these were relatively harmless; refusing to accept that NASA landed astronauts on the Moon, or believing that the World is flat, are (in practical terms) harmless eccentricities, and not something that threatens the well-being of society as a whole.
However, the campaign against vaccination which claims, without evidence, that vaccines are linked to autism is a different matter. It constitutes a threat to public health, which has allowed diseases that were under control (such as measles) to become prevalent again. It is also anachronistic and risible to even see this as an issue given the number of highly-talented people who lie on the autism spectrum. Of course, the proponents of these wacky ideas never let facts get in the way of their irrational beliefs.
I was interested to read that the latest unhinged theory, spreading like a virtual plague through cyberspace, namely the belief that 5G phone masts are spreading (or causing, take your pick) COVID-19, is linked to ideas promulgated by the anti-vaccination brigade. The attacks on supposed 5G masts that have followed are reminiscent of the waves of mass hysteria that characterised the late-Middle Ages (which is apt given we have our very own version of plague), and with a side order of Don Quixote, phone masts now standing in for windmills.
With the sort of doublethink that is beyond satire, these people are presumably using their mobile phones to coordinate their attacks on the very infrastructure that makes this possible. Presumably, once a vaccine finally does become, these people will refuse to take it.
Words sometimes fail me

Life during wartime

Life during wartime

There’s a particular art rock song from the late nineteen seventies that’s now running through my brain, it’s insistent, driving sub-disco beat has become (pro tem) the soundtrack to my existence. It’s called Life During Wartime and was recorded by the Talking Heads in 1979; going on YouTube I notice a number of other people have already made the connexion. And it is entirely appropriate because this is a war, but against an unseen enemy, one that hides in plain sight and infiltrates all of our lives by stealth, and the song’s mood of incipient paranoia speaks perfectly to our times.
I notice that every page I visit online features automated adverts for events that have been cancelled, shops that will soon close, products that no-one will be buying in the near future.
They now seem (to me) to be relics of a time that has passed, and at some point in the future they will just cease…
OK, we don’t know how this is going to play out, however, the assumptions made by Governments, business and national and international institutions are constantly being undermined by events and it seems certain that the World that emerges will not be the one we have now.
In that case, we are really entering a period of mourning for the World as it was and the lives we once had…
It occurs to me that my generation (i.e. the baby boomers) and the generations that have followed, have never really been tested, unlike our parents’ generation who had to live through the Second World War and an existential threat to our way of life (if not our very existence).
So this (finally) is our test, and we need to rise to the challenge…
The Author March 2020