1981 science fiction. In the Todos Santos arcology, life is much safer
than outside in Los Angeles, if somewhat sanitised: but it's still
right next door.
I suspect that one's opinion of the politics of this novel can be
predicted by whether one thinks that "screw 'em, let 'em fend for
themselves while I'm safe in my fortress" is ever a good attitude to
take (a timely thing to think about, given growing unwillingness by
the "civilised" world to take in refugees). In this world, that's what
you have to do: the Outside is and always will be filled with an
infinite supply of muggers and rapists and burglars and street gangs,
and the only way to have a reasonably safe life is to lock yourself
away behind nerve gas and automatic weapons owned by the biggest bully
on the block.
My politics may have changed somewhat since I first read and enjoyed
this book.
What I find interesting now is that this is largely a book about
public relations. The nature of Todos Santos itself isn't going to
change, but the way people on the outside think about it is amenable
to modification. One of the major plot points is the partial reversal
in attitude of the reporter Thomas Lunan, who makes a documentary
about the cultural clashes (starting, in a memorable opening sequence,
with the nerve-gassing of three people who have set themselves up to
look like terrorists infiltrating the arcology's power plant but turn
out to be unarmed students) and ends up, while not wanting to live in
Todos Santos, at least admitting that their way is a way that's here
to stay. That could work, but the authors' message is just too
heavy-handed, erasing characterisation.
The title is suitably ironic for a book adopted by libertarians: yes,
you can be free of the troubles of the outside world, as long as you
give your loyalty to and accept the protection of someone bigger than
you.
Of course there's also a lot of the "bureaucracy be hanged, let's do
stuff" attitude, and plenty of nifty tech – though A. Rand (ahem), the
main techie here and Niven's proxy in the story, is one of the people
who ends up having to leave the country rather than staying where the
action is like the general manager (Pournelle's proxy). There's some
decent stuff on the personal and social implications of brain-computer
interfacing, too, though as with most pre-21st-century fiction it
considers the inevitable far end to be one big computer, loaded with
everything, rather than a network of machines under separate
control.
It's all a bit straw-mannish, though: the main organised opposition is
the anti-tech movement Friends of Man and the Earth, which is
blatantly inconsistent even in its own rhetoric, and doesn't seem to
make any internal distinction between people who feel that the
resource allocation per person is a bit on the inequitable side and
people who are willing to kill and destroy to make their point. There
are no good FROMATEs, or bad Todos Santosians (except the traitors who
were never really true believers… hmm, funny how that works). The
security group which has full-time camera access to every room in the
arcology is completely trustworthy, and the company only has your
interests at heart, honest. I've read this story before, but generally
the heroes are the people fighting against the oppressive
dictatorship. As John Clute put it in the SF Encyclopedia: "The
internal government of this arcology being an infallible hierarchy
headed by one brilliant man in constant communication with a great
Computer, no significant dissent is necessary, or heard."
The politics are hateful, but some of the tech is still interesting.
This was a choice for the
YSDC Book Club.
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