Consider the future.

Or, consider the present in a new context.

I have a list in my research folder, safely tucked away and growing, of references to algorithmic dystopias filled with rogue AIs brought to us thanks to the creative minds and visions of authors spanning a century of human content. 

I love science fiction. And I watched Lieutenant Data on Star Trek: The Next Generation^[1] as a teenager. I read about robots via Isaac Asimov^[2] through my university years. I saw all three films of The Matrix^[3] trilogy in theatres. I watched Battlestar Galactica^[4] while my toddler slept in the other room. And recently I have been rewatching HBO’s Westworld^[5] with a keen eye towards the philosophical tangle of technology it evokes.

I want to write about these (and a list of others) individually, but I wanted to save myself some effort for those future essays by offering a definition of science fiction.

Those of us who are fans of—and occasional contributors to—the genre understand that good science fiction is never about the future. It is not about prediction. It is not about forecasting the unknowable beyond. It is not about getting correct answers about tomorrow or next week or next century. Rather, it is almost always a mirror for today. Good science fiction, at least in my opinion is a morality tale told out of time and space with the intention of giving notes about the present.

In all good science fiction there is a speculation not about where we will end up, but rather what our current trajectory, here and now, seems to suggest about the same. It seems like that might be worth poking into deeper here.