Today it gives the Speculative Fiction Showcase great pleasure to interview John Be Lane, whose novel The Future Lies has its debut on February 6, 2024.
What
was your first inspiration for The Future Lies, and why did you use that
title?
A
few years ago, I started imagining a school called the Academy of Ingenuity,
which would have a radical new curriculum, designed to inspire the joy of
lifelong learning. Sort of like Hogwarts, but where cognition is the magic, and
literacy is a superpower. But I wasn’t sure what to do with the idea. Then I
got a new idea, about a society in which life seemed perfect and happy in a
virtual environment, but in reality, was a nightmare. The story evolved out of
those two core ideas.
The
Future Lies was actually my second choice for a title. No one
who read the early drafts liked my original title, which was the only thing
they all agreed on. But I think they were right. The Future Lies seems
catchier. It can be interpreted in different ways. I like the ambiguity.
What
prompted your concerns about AI and the need to explore its dangers?
Having
seen certain digital technologies fail to live up to their promise over the
years, I’ve become sceptical about “next big things.” At the same time, a lot
of people seem willing to embrace those new things without paying attention
what they’ll have to give away, for what are often only low-value conveniences.
We’ve surrendered a lot, including our privacy, in exchange for “free” social
media and email accounts, Alexas, Siris, cloud computing, etc.
AI
seems like an even bigger risk, which has the potential to tip the balance away
from human agency. It's important to note that “AI” isn’t a monolithic thing.
It has many potential manifestations, some of which might be beneficial to us.
For example, it may offer hope for medical breakthroughs. On the other hand,
there’s the possibility of mechanized warfare fought by lethal robots taking
orders from lines of code, not rational humans.
The scenario I imagined is like an “Internet of Things” AI network that’s used to pacify and oppress a mass of humans. Given the current state of AI technology, lack of regulatory oversight, and the passive acceptance of new technology by so many people, it seems like a plausible scenario. It’s also a recipe for authoritarian oppression. That’s the premise of The Future Lies.
What
made you decide to write for a YA audience and what challenges did that pose?
I
didn’t set out to write specifically for a YA audience. But I think it’s an
appropriate story for young adults, for the same reason the main characters are
young adults. They are inheriting this world, or these worlds – the one in the
book, and one we’re all living in. I hope the book might encourage some doubt
about the status quo, and thoughts about alternatives.
It
didn’t seem that challenging for me to write young adult characters. I feel
more kinship for young adults than I do for many of the people my own age. The
world has changed a lot since I was a young adult, but what hasn’t changed for
me is the feeling that things aren’t all what they should be, or could be.
Tell
us more about your history as a screenwriter and poet, and the different
thinking processes required for the different forms.
The
novel incorporates some of the techniques I learned from screenwriting. Writing
in scenes, for example. Showing, not telling. It helped hone my dialog-writing
skills. People are so tuned now into visual media– series TV and films, that
some of these elements might make it easier for readers to embrace the printed
pages of a novel.
The
kind of poetry I’ve written is succinct and personal. It allows me to play
around with language, in an effort to connect with readers directly, on an
emotional level. In The Future Lies, I tried to use that experience to
liberate the prose. I didn’t want the narrative voice to sound neutral, or too
dispassionate. I wanted it to sound as invested in the story as I hoped the
reader would be.
What
can you tell us about your protagonists in The Future Lies, the gamer
Calvin and his friends Roscoe and Juniper?
I
feel for them! They’re emerging from childhood into a world that rightfully
doesn’t make sense to them. It’s a world that discourages questioning of the
status quo, so their confusion is not something they can easily share or
discuss with anyone else. And in fact, they are not like the others around
them. They each have a quality of character that is inherently at odds with the
world they live in. As they encounter each other, simply discovering that
someone else has similar doubts and frustrations is exciting and empowering.
What
prompts Calvin to rebel against the AI network that controls his life and those
of his fellows?
Calvin
has an innate sense of decency and integrity, which are unique in his world,
and in many ways dangerous. He has an empathetic soul. He isn’t able to lie to
himself, or to ignore his instincts, though his life would be easier if he
could. Injustice does not sit well with Calvin, wherever it comes from. So in a
way, he’s cursed to have a personality that does not align well with the powers
that be. Authoritarians don’t take kindly to compassion. But I think the things
Calvin does have less to do the conscious intention to rebel, than with being
true to his own nature.
How
did you set about creating a personality for the AI itself and were there any
literary or filmic precedents, from the computer Hal in 2001: A Space Odyssey
onwards?
A
bit of Hal’s DNA is definitely there in the Network. But there are a lot of
differences. The Network was created for a different purpose, and has a
different makeup. I envisioned it comprised of multiple semi-autonomous
components – that “Internet of Things” I mentioned – which already exists in an
embryonic form.
Imagine
the kind of conversations that Alexa, Siri, your Ring doorbell, your Nest
thermostat, your Rhoomba vacuum, your Apple watch, your social media accounts,
the applications on your phone, all of the media you consume, and all your data
on the cloud might already be having. Then imagine that instead of economic
profit being their main priority, they were programmed to neutralize your
ability to do anything more than exist. At that point, the Network takes on
some of the traits of Big Brother, from nineteen eighty-four.
But
because Artificial Intelligence is a human product, created from human inputs,
it also followed that the Network would have weaknesses, imperfections, and other characteristics that
we would recognize as human. That made it a most interesting character to
write.
What
is the source of your concern that AI poses an existential threat to humanity?
When
you look at the potential for AI to wipe out creative professions (writers,
artists, filmmakers, musicians), skilled professions (doctors, lawyers,
researchers), and unskilled occupations (in conjunction with robotics), as well
as the potential for mechanized, no-humans-in-control forms of policing and warfare,
you’ve got a worst-case scenario in which people exist at the mercy of the
tools they’ve created. Which is the opposite of what it should be. And also the
point at which humanity becomes irrelevant.
But
as I see it, technology is not in and of itself the problem. An equal part of
the threat is our unquestioning surrender to technologies like AI. If we were
more thoughtful and cautious, it could work exclusively for us, with
enormous potential benefits. But if we’re just going along for the ride, we
will be taken for a ride that will not end well, I fear.
You
believe that literary and critical thinking pose an existential threat to
authoritarians. Why is this and what is the particular role of literary
thinking?
I
might phrase it a little differently – I think literacy and critical thinking
are existential threats to authoritarians. Authoritarians accumulate their
power through appeals to emotion, not intellect. Ignorance and fear are the
products they sell. That requires followers who dwell in the primitive,
reactive, irrational parts of their brains. It helps if you can convince them
that ignorance is a virtue.
But
any so-called benefits that authoritarians peddle don’t hold up to a split
second of critical thinking, which takes place in a different part of the
brain. So their challenge is to keep you out of your prefrontal cortex.
Rational thinking is kryptonite to an authoritarian. It’s why they always go
after the teachers and writers and journalists. Now librarians are on their
list. This is no accident. As a would-be authoritarian in the U.S. once said,
“I love the poorly educated!”
Could
imaginary worlds such as those created in online RPGs actually pose a threat to
authoritarian regimes?
“Imaginary
worlds” can include a lot of different things. Some would say religions are
imaginary worlds. Or that ideologies are imaginary worlds. Both of which can
either support, or pose a threat, to an authoritarian regime. Or a democracy.
RPGs
are also imaginary worlds, as are novels and films. We’ve seen them serve noble
and horrible causes. The Jungle was a novel that enhanced the public
good. But Natural Born Killers glorified humanity at its worst. Unfortunately,
it’s easier to curry an audience’s appetite for spectacle, cruelty, and
violence. The easiest thing for an authoritarian to do is pander to people’s
worst instincts.
Thoughtful
storytellers have to work twice as hard to attract the better angels of our
nature. But I think at this point in time, we have an obligation to make that
effort. And the message is at least as important as the medium.
How
did you set about creating a fictional world and how did you research areas
that were outside your experience?
One
thing that simplified the challenge was setting the story in Denver, where I
live. I spent a lot of time walking those streets. The buildings are real. I’ve
been inside most of them. This all made it easier to imagine the characters in
their environment.
I
was also able to draw on books I’d already read, which helped inspire and
inform the story. There’s a list of them at the end of the book, but I’ll
mention a few here. The Swerve introduced me to the notion that a book,
and the knowledge it contains, can be forgotten for decades or even centuries,
and then bloom again when it’s rediscovered. The Darkening Age gave me a
vivid look at how ignorance and intolerance can overwhelm a more enlightened
civilization. And the Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass
provided a first-hand account of the enormous power of literacy to change a
life.
Research
I did specifically for the book related mainly to Artificial Intelligence and
how it worked. Various books and online sources helped me understand the basic
mechanics – things like the generative adversarial process. I also learned a
lot from reading Jaron Lanier, who’s one of the pioneers of virtual reality.
The
trick is then to take all these inputs, and use them as ingredients to create
the meal, which is the story itself. For me, a lot of that work takes place on
a subconscious level, after I’ve prepared the mise en place.
Why
is the idea of duality important in The Future Lies and how does it
work?
Appearance
vs. reality is a theme I’ve always been drawn to – going back to the first time
I heard The Emperor’s New Clothes. It relates to the rational/irrational
dualities I mentioned before. These are conflicts we wrestle with constantly.
They have the potential to cause unimaginable hardship. It’s difficult to
survive and adapt when you’re making decisions based on information that’s
wrong by design, with the intention to deceive.
Deceit
has become a highly sophisticated art. That’s why critical thinking, to me, is
the essential skill we modern humans need to survive. We’d better be as good at
seeing through the deceit as the deceivers are in deceiving us.
Truth
vs. lies is one of the primal dualities. Taken to its extreme in The Future
Lies, the corrupted world has become so dominant that it’s hard to even
conceive of anything else. This inability is reinforced by the principles of
“decognition.” The challenge becomes, how do you know anything, when you’re
groomed not to know how to know?
How
did you imagine your antagonists or villains and why was it important to write
this story now?
The
world that the story takes place in is extrapolated, but not very far, from the
world as I see it now. Many digital technologies are specifically designed to
addict us. The people who benefit from our addiction have quietly acquired
unthinkable amounts of power and money, and for all practical purposes, they operate
outside of any traditional forms of oversight or accountability.
So
it wasn’t hard to take that scenario a step or two farther and explore how
those conditions could result in a society in which the vast majority of humans
exist on the level of barnyard animals, managed more or less on autopilot by an
Artificial Intelligence network. Right now, we can still cling to a veneer of
independence and autonomy. But our lives are increasingly filtered through
applications that often don’t work well, and don’t serve us well. Which is met
by a collective shrug of the shoulders.
I
didn’t have to do much imagining. The few people who are reaping the benefits
are doing so out in the open. I’m not sure how much longer we’ve got to
recognize what’s happening and protect our interests, before the big door slams
shut and we’re on the wrong side of it. That’s why I think this is a story that
needed to be told.
Tackling
an idea about artificial intelligence and human hubris that is almost as old as
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, why do these fears continue to haunt us?
A
part of me wishes the fears haunted us more. Hubris is a form of delusion,
which is sometimes contagious. In some ways, it gets back to that idea that if
you can do something, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t. Endorphins
are powerful. Maybe that first martini went down well. And the second one, too.
But just because they’ll serve you a third one doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to
drink it. The problem is, by then you’re intoxicated. Maybe you’re intoxicated
by something else – greed, or ambition, or power. Maybe by comfort, or
convenience. The effects are the same. If a little feels good, more must
better.
Or we just get caught up in the moment, because the moment is all that there is. Until the next moment. But by then it’s too late. We’ve flown too close to the Sun, and our wings are suddenly melting. Some people mature out of that mentality, but not everyone. Unfortunately, the more responsible types are often stuck with the bill run up by the irresponsible. That’s a fear that haunts me.
Will
there be a sequel to The Future Lies?
I’m
not sure. The Future Lies was the story that wanted me to tell it. Insisted
on it, in fact. It was like a commitment to loved one or a friend. There was
never any question that I would see it through. If I was to write a sequel, it
would have to be for the same reason; something I couldn’t not write. I feel a
different story pulling me at the moment. That might be what comes next. After
that, who knows? The world of The Future Lies may not be done with me
yet.
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