Originally published via Armageddon Prose Substack:
“The important thing is moral choice. Evil has to exist along with good, in order that moral choice may operate. Life is sustained by the grinding opposition of moral entities.”
-Anthony Burgess, A Clockwork Orange
…Or maybe it’s Brave New World come to life. Or maybe A Clockwork Orange.
It’s now less accurate to say the transhumanist revolution “is coming” than “we’re in it right now.”
The dystopian sci-fi literature most analogous to current and future events is hard to suss out. It’s probably going to be a toxic brew of them all.
Even for those of us who (more or less, to the extent it’s possible) understand the technological trajectory we are on, it’s difficult to appreciate that we’ve only really scratched the tip of the surface in terms of the malleable nature of not just people or things but of reality itself.
Related: A 1990s Internet Story: ‘I Just Popped My Cherry’
Via Wired (emphasis added):
“If you’re a sci-fi fanatic you have definitely seen a somewhat over-exaggerated conceptualization of ‘The future,’ including flying cars everywhere, everyone swapping their daily clothing items for robotic suits, advancements in AI, and habitation on different planets. While some of those have come to life others are still on their way to becoming a reality from a concept. Among them is Cognify — a rehabilitation facility conceptualized to replace traditional prisons by embedding artificial memories permanently in addition to an individual’s own experiences by Yemeni molecular biologist and science communicator Hashem Al-Ghaili.
Starting off with the possibility of being realistically instilled on a large scale, Al-Ghaili says, ‘Absolutely! The science behind it already exists, but the ethical boundaries stand in the way of making it a reality.’ Cognify was inspired by the ‘limitations of the current criminal justice system and the crucial role vivid memories play in shaping behavior.’ Injustices are prominent in prisons around the world. ‘Prisons often fail at effective behavioral rehabilitation, as evidenced by high recidivism rates,’ he says. According to the concept the intensity and type of artificial memories would be adjusted depending on the crime. In this case, intensity is quantified by the depth of these emotions with the duration of the memories tailored to provoke specific responses like empathy, remorse, or understanding.”
This you might recognize as nearly identical to the plot of the 1971 novel A Clockwork Orange — proving, once more, that future reality will likely prove far stranger than past fiction.
Via Britannica (emphasis added):
“The novel opens in a totalitarian society where violent youths abound. Alex, the protagonist, has a passion for classical music and is a member of a vicious teen gang. He and his droogs (friends) engage in drug-fueled orgies (milk spiked with narcotics is the drug of choice), and their random acts of brutality—particularly against defenseless people—are detailed with enjoyment in Burgess’s made-up slang, Nadsat. At one point the group breaks into a cottage, beating a young writer and gang raping his wife, who later dies. When an attempted robbery goes awry and Alex murders an elderly woman, he is sentenced to 14 years in prison. He gradually adjusts to life behind bars, but one night he and his cellmates beat a new prisoner, who dies. Alex is chosen to undergo an experimental program called the Ludovico’s Technique, a brutal form of aversion therapy that includes Alex watching films of Nazi atrocities. The treatment causes him to become physically sick if he even thinks about committing a crime. It also results in Alex disliking classical music. While government officials deem the procedure a success, the prison chaplain, who had befriended Alex, questions the ethics of removing one’s free will. According to the chaplain, good behaviour should be a choice.”
It should also be noted: these extreme social engineering projects are an easy sell when they’re proposed to be practiced upon prisoners, as society has little regard for prisoners due to the belief that they deserve punishment for whatever crimes they may have committed. But, as always, the door is opened through this avenue to eventually introduce it to all captive populations, including children under government care in public schools.
Ben Bartee, author of Broken English Teacher: Notes From Exile, is an independent Bangkok-based American journalist with opposable thumbs.
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