The origins of science fiction are most often thought to trace to Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein, a story born from a night of spooky tale-telling by the fireside that explores scientific, moral, and ethical questions that were of great concern in the 19th century—and that continue to resonate today. And, although novels and short stories built the foundations of science fiction, film and television have emerged as equally powerful, experimental, and enjoyable ways to experience the genre. Even as far back as the silent era, films like Fritz Lang’s Metropolis have used science fiction to tell stories that explore many facets of human experience.

In Sci-Phi: Science Fiction as Philosophy, Professor of Philosophy David Kyle Johnson of King’s College takes you on a 24-lecture exploration of the final frontiers of philosophy across several decades of science fiction in film and television. From big-budget blockbusters to television series featuring aliens in rubber masks, Professor Johnson finds food for philosophical thought in a wide range of stories. By looking at serious questions through astonishing tales and astounding technologies, you will see how science fiction allows us to consider immense, vital—and sometimes controversial—ideas with a rare combination of engagement and critical distance.

The Future Is Now

Science fiction is often concerned with the future, being used not only as a tool of prediction—humans are notoriously bad at accurately predicting the future—but also as one of extrapolation and interrogation. Rather than simply asking what the future will look like, the futuristic visions of sci-fi TV, like Star Trek, Firefly, and even the animated comedy Futurama, offer compelling statements about humanity’s hopes, dreams, and fears. We can, therefore, use fictionalized futures to better understand today’s world.

Setting a story in the future—or in an alternate reality, or on a faraway planet—also allows sci-fi creators to open up the realm of possibility beyond what our current world offers, while also looking at very real scientific possibilities. As you look at sci-fi films like Arrival and Interstellar, Professor Johnson highlights the kinds of issues worth considering if contact with extraterrestrial life or time travel became part of our real-life experience. And even if these experiences remain in the realm of fiction, considering them still provides insight into important philosophical questions. Indeed, throughout the lectures of Sci-Phi, you will ponder many questions that have concerned philosophers for centuries, including:

Do humans truly have free will?
Could machines one day be conscious? Or be sentient?
Could we actually be living in a simulated world?
How will humanity confront a future of diminished resources and advancing technology?
Are science and religion compatible?
When, if ever, is war justified?
How do we know what information to trust and what to dismiss?
Exploring Reality through Fiction

Staples of science fiction like time travel, alternate universes, and extraterrestrial life are endlessly fascinating ideas to explore. Yet, despite the insights they can give us, they may not seem very relevant to everyday life. Even our conception of reality—what is real and what isn’t—can have little bearing on the more mundane aspects of living from day to day. But science fiction, for all its futurism and outlandish flourishes, is not limited to these theoretical concepts; it is also a window into crucial discussions about the here and now, questions concerning ethics, power, religion, tolerance, social justice, politics, and the many practical dimensions of living in a world that is constantly changing and forever presenting humans with fresh new dilemmas to solve. And by removing us from reality, sci-fi can also remove our biases and make us see such issues anew.

Indeed, as Professor Johnson makes clear, stories of simulated worlds and artificial intelligence can seem far-fetched, but they actually offer valuable insights into social and ethical issues that may be more immediate and relevant than they first appear. By looking at them through fiction, we can take a step back and get a clearer picture of the larger implications. For instance, by looking at characters like Commander Data in Star Trek: The Next Generation or the Cylons in Battlestar Galactica, we are forced to wonder: If we create artificial intelligence that achieves true sentience, how will we treat these man-made beings? Will we repeat the sins of the past by enslaving them or will we embrace them as our equals? If we are ever able to re-create a convincing version of the world via computers, as films like The Matrix and The Thirteenth Floor suggest, do the lives lived in those simulations mean less than those in the “real” world? The answers to these questions—and many others—speak volumes about human values and, given our ever-evolving technology, may require answers sooner rather than later.

You may be surprised to see how often a science fiction story can “trick” you into thinking about questions and concepts you may have never considered. Shows like The Twilight Zone and Black Mirror overtly present questions and issues for audiences to ponder. However, while other films and television shows may seem to focus more on the adventure and entertainment value of science fiction, they still often have deep philosophical dimensions. Consider the long-running British TV series Doctor Who. A beloved icon of science fiction, the show has always been framed as simply the exciting weekly adventures of a time-traveling alien; yet, throughout its decades on television, it has explored issues of autonomy, sentience, pacifism, colonialism, racism, grief, morality, and much more.

A Unique View of Philosophy

While each lecture of Sci-Phi focuses on a few key films or television episodes, you will also explore dozens of other movies and TV episodes along the way. Likewise, each philosophical concept you explore opens the door to further discovery. Throughout the lectures, you will be introduced to the ideas of great thinkers like Descartes, Hobbes, Locke, Marx, Nietzsche, Sartre, Turing, Baudrillard, and many others; and through these ideas, you will better understand the different ways philosophy examines the big questions, from metaphysics and epistemology to existentialism and ethics.

Fans of the genre will find their experience of sci-fi stories enriched by layers of philosophical inquiry that reveal each story to be much more than just entertainment. Similarly, those who are looking for a thrilling and accessible introduction to philosophy will be equally rewarded by Professor Johnson’s breadth of knowledge, as well as his deep and abiding love for both science fiction storytelling and philosophical exploration. As you engage with philosophy by way of sci-fi stories for screens both large and small, it is important to keep in mind that Professor Johnson will not shy away from revealing key plot points in many of the stories he explores throughout the lectures; so, although it is not required, watching the films and TV episodes at the heart of each lecture is recommended. Presented as a one-on-one conversation and enlivened by fun visual references to many of the stories you will encounter, Sci-Phi: Science Fiction as Philosophy is a philosophy course unlike any other.

Whether telling stories of far-flung futures or investigating the here and now, science fiction is an invaluable source of intellectual and imaginative exploration. From the genre-defining classics like Star Wars, Doctor Who, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and The Twilight Zone to a new wave of speculative tales like Transcendence, Snowpiercer, Westworld, and The Hunger Games, sci-fi stories offer a uniquely engaging and incisive way to ask serious questions about the world we live in, even when those stories are set in a galaxy far, far away. Philosophy is the search for truth. Sometimes that truth is best revealed through fiction.

Thank you for the review. Given the high response this review generated, I felt compelled to respond.

While I will fully admit that the last lectures do not tell conservatives what they want to hear, that fact does not entail that they “unbalanced” or “left-wing.” Something “not having a conservative bias” is not the same thing as “having a liberal bias.” To be balanced, one must do the following: On matters that are undecided by demonstrable facts (e.g., abortion, euthanasia), one must present both sides of the issue. On matters that are settled by demonstrable facts (e.g., climate change), one must follow those facts where they lead regardless of what political parties have said about them. I don’t believe I failed to do this on any issue or in any lecture.

Regarding capitalism: I maintained a balance on that topic, I just did so in a different way than I did in “The Big Questions of Philosophy.” There I showed the pitfalls of both capitalism and communism and argued for a middle ground (inspired by Keynes) that endorses capitalism but guards against its pitfalls. In Sci-Phi, because I didn’t really have the room to talk about communism (and didn’t want to repeat an argument I gave in Big Questions in detail), I tried to retain balance by pointing out the good things about capitalism (it created the middle class, it led to industrialization, for example), but also the bad things. Perhaps I talked more about the bad things, but that was because that is what the Sci-fi focused on. It wasn’t because of a “liberal slant.”

Regarding religion: I did not dismiss it out of hand, nor did I fail to give religious believers any benefit of the doubt. I presented a detailed argument for every position about religion that I took—the non-existence of the soul, the incompatibility of certain religious beliefs with scientific reasoning, etc. I even articulated options for rational religious belief, in light of those arguments, and noted examples of religious people who take them. This may not be your approach to religion, but that doesn’t mean I have dismissed religious believers out of hand. Indeed, I have many religious colleagues that would not disagree with a single thing I said. In fact, in much of what I said, I am simply echoing one of the most famous Christian philosophers of all time—Kierkegaard—who admitted that belief in God and things like the resurrection are absurd (but called Christians to believe them anyway).

Regarding climate change: I presented the science as it is absent political bias. Indeed, contrary to your suggestion, this lecture cannot be political because climate change is not a political issue. For climate scientists, it is a scientific issue. For the rest of us (as I point out in the lecture), it is a philosophical issue—an issue about how non-experts should treat the testimony of experts. But whether global warming is causing climate change is not a political issue any more than whether cigarettes cause cancer is a political issue. Should we pass laws given what science has revealed? If so, what laws could we pass or policies could we enact? How do you convince the public that we need to act on it? Those are political issues. Whether climate change is happening, or whether cigarettes cause cancer (or what we should believe about those issues), are not.

That said, politicians have certainly divided the public on climate change; by inventing controversy and creating fallacious “objections,” with the help of politically affiliated and motivated companies and think-tanks, they have convinced many that climate change isn’t real. But only if I had pretended that these arguments had merit—so that I could say “the matter isn’t settled” and thus maintain an appearance of “balance”—would I actually have been guilty of bias. Why? Because to take a position on a scientific issue based on one’s political affiliation, or to not “offend” those with a political affiliation, is the very definition of bias. On an issue such as climate change, which can and is settled by the evidence, one must simply follow the facts where they lead. And that’s exactly what I did. Political divisions on this issue did not affect the content of my lecture on climate change at all.

As an example: suppose I did a lecture on GMOs or vaccines. Many liberals believe that they are not safe, but this belief is not at all supported by the scientific evidence. Indeed, the science is clear: GMOs and vaccines are perfectly safe and have actually saved countless lives. Despite this, some with liberal political leanings have invited controversies and arguments to shed doubt on the scientific consensus, and convinced many in the public that they are not safe. But if I did a lecture on these topics, I would not kowtow to these objections, and pretend that they had merit, to maintain an appearance of “balance” or “fair play.” (Indeed, although I didn’t dedicate an entire lecture to them, I took a strong stand on both these issues in the course.) What political parties have decided to take a stand on does not affect the empirical facts or the science; a non-biased lecture must follow the science and facts where they lead (and not be effected by the political climate).

Now, the fact that public opinion is divided on climate change (combined with the fact that climate change posses an existential threat to the human race) did created an obligation to dedicate an entire lecture to the philosophical issue of what the non-expert should believe on climate change. So the political climate did perhaps motivate the inclusion of such a lecture. (Vaccines and GMO denial aren’t as pressing, so I didn’t address them at length.) But politics did not dictate the content of my climate change lecture at all. I’ll admit that it was a little light on the sci-fi, but the lecture could sound “preachy” only to someone who didn’t want to hear it. No complete treatment of the issue could do anything but what I did: discuss the evidence and examine the arguments, in detail, objectively.

As to whether the climate change lecture held the audience’s attention—I’ll admit that, in all honesty, almost all of it is stuff that any scientifically informed person should already know. The science is settled; those who know that may find the lecture boring. But thanks to the misinformation campaigns I talk about in the lecture, this is not the case for most people. So not only should the lecture have been interesting to most people, the lecture was warranted; it’s providing information that many people don’t know.

Could I have done it better? Definitely! Since I wrote the lecture, The Orville episode “If the Stars Should Appear” aired. It tells the story of the Orville discovering a broken-down bio-dome ship about to be destroyed by falling into a star. The Orville crew tries to warn the inhabitants, but they have been adrift for so long that they have forgotten that they are even on a ship. Indeed, in the dome, a religion has developed that denies the existence of anything outside the dome; to suggest that they could be put in danger by something outside the dome is thus considered heresy. The inhabitants of the dome therefore deny every piece of obvious evidence to the contrary, including the evidence that they are in danger, even though by doing so they are literally endangering the existence of their entire civilization. Given that many people deny climate change (and the danger it poses), and credulously endorse the fallacious arguments against it despite all the evidence and scientific consensus, because of their religious beliefs—like Scott Pruitt’s belief that God gave us the environment to use and abuse as we see fit, or John Shimkus’ belief that global warming is a hoax because Genesis said God promised he would never again flood the Earth —this would have made for a much more appropriate backdrop for a lecture on climate change. It certainly would have been heavier on the sci-fi and probably would be more entertaining. But my failure to do so in no way made my lecture “liberally biased.”

Now…on the lighter note of the issue of Bladerunner and Starship Troopers….. I realize you were kidding (and I’m glad you still enjoyed the Troopers lecture anyway), but I labored long and hard over whether to dedicate a lecture to Bladerunner…and in the end, I felt it didn’t warrant it. Although it has quite the reputation as a deep philosophical film, after trying to write the lecture on it I decided that this was an incorrect view. The question it asks—whether replicants (engineered, rather than born, persons) are “real”—is just too easily answered. Of course they are. They have brain, so they have minds, feel pain, have rights, etc. End of story. The question of whether Decker is a replicant or not is fun to consider—but it’s not a deep philosophical question. But if I get to do a sequel to the course, maybe I’ll try again to address Blade Runner (and its sequel) in more detail.

All in all, thanks for the review. Despite my criticism of it, I realize why some found it helpful. But I also realize why some didn’t: not everyone is concerned with avoiding everything that doesn’t have a conservative slant. I am sorry that you weren’t more satisfied with the latter portion of the course, but to the extent that any of my courses challenge the beliefs of my listeners or students, I consider them a success.

Oh…one last thing: while you are right that good sci-fi isn’t “preachy,” the best sci-fi doesn’t merely raise issues to discuss. As I try to make clear in the course, the best sci-fi takes positions; it makes arguments. It tries to convince you of something. That why the course is titled “as philosophy” not “and philosophy.”

lurker wrote: Fri Nov 09, 2018 12:00 pm all that because of 1 whiney little conservative bitch (as in, one who bitches, not as in female dog. would that be more properly "bitcher" than "bitch"?)