Defining Science Fiction

Try as we might, we can never come up with a comprehensive definition of science fiction. But we should always try.

Part of the allure of science fiction is its glorious indefinibility. There are exception to nearly every rule that we can create for a comprehensive definition of sci-fi. I am inclined to be very inclusive when I define sci-fi, including so-called "border" works like The Prisoner and much of The Avengers, just to pick a couple of groundbreaking British shows.

I do believe that sci-fi is mostly about surrogating contemporary problems and fears to elucidate them. This is precisely why I consider The Prisoner a seminal work of TV sci-fi. Patrick McGoohan was very explicit about his fears concerning all technology, including, but certainly not limited to the atom bomb. He believed that society had built billions of "Villages" that we all inhabited. They are invisible to us, and like The Village of the show, we can never be sure who are the wardens and who are the inmates. Never is this clearer [SPOILER ALERT] than in the final episode, where Number 6 rips off Number 1's mask to find that Number 1 is simply him - "Who is Number 1?" "You are... Number 6." In the end, Number 6 escapes The Village, but the final shot of the show is the same as the first - he is still in The Village; he can just no longer see the walls of his prison. In this self-indulgent, mostly allegorical, and all trippy way, McGoohan illustrates his omnipresent fear of contemporary society to us. He forces us to ask ourselves if we are all trapped in The Village. [/SPOILER ALERT]

Another goal of science fiction can be to show us the great potential of man. This was Gene Roddenberry's image of the future. His exuberance and grand hope for humanity came through in every episode of the series he worked on. Though TOS confronted contemporary human problems, they were surrogated onto other species. The show certainly had allegorical themes (Klingons=USSR, Romulans=China, etc.), but through it all, the Federation embodied Roddenberry's positive image of the future. By the time of TNG, humanity was nearly perfected. Starfleet was only barely militarized and the Enterprise-D acted as a great peaceful city in space. Conflicts were few and far between and secondary to the stories of the crew exploring themselves in peace. Q's attitude toward Picard and the crew was especially indicative of Roddenberry's hopes. Q admitted that humanity had the potential to become virtually omnipotent. Most "foreheads of the week" could be reasoned with, with the notable exception of the Borg, who are a wholly innovative concept in the Star Trek Universe. Of course, after Roddenberry's death, the series lost much of its message of hope. I simply cannot imagine that the Dominion War would have been written had Roddenberry still been alive. For him, humanity did not go to war anymore. The abomination that made up most of the writing on "Enterprise" would never have gone through. The image of humanity that "Enterprise" presented was absolutely antithetical to Roddenberry's vision, and this change alienated many longtime fans, including myself. But I digress.

What shouldn't sci-fi be? Questions like "What if we all actually live in a virtual reality generated by a gigantic computer?" are usually fruitless (sorry, "The Matrix." I still love you, though.) because we cannot examine that question any further. This form of intellectual masturbation too often plagues scientists and sci-fiers alike and is best suited for a long afternoon among friends and mind-altering substances, not good science fiction. Rather, science fiction explores what it means to be human and the nature of a single person. What if your thoughts could all be transferred into another body? Would you be the same person? Would you still be married to Worf? Is today a good day to die? These are the sort of questions that best suit sci-fi.

So what is sci-fi, then? I suppose that for me, it's a simultaneous glimpse into the past, present, and future.