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"I'm a terrible, terrible person to visit theme-parks with", remarks a character in the science fiction novel, Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, by Cory Doctorow. At the 2000 Hugo Awards for Science-Fiction Achievement, Doctorow won the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer. His most recent work describes a future world where characters get led 'down a subtle, carefully baited trail... allowing that while, yes, we might someday encounter alien species with wild and fabulous ways, that right now, there was a slightly depressing homogeneity to the world'.
Doctorow's landscapes are anything but homogeneous. The future includes routine trips back and forth to space stations; the Earth itself has taken on the slang term, 'dirtside'. When one goes dirtside for a visit or to stay, one begins to feel the familiar juxtaposed against the startlingly unfamiliar future--where life is extended infinitely, where one's memory resembles backing up a computer hard-drive, and where finally and fortunately for those unlucky enough to short their own circuits, one can merely reboot to a different lifestyle. The science fiction characters don't shape-shift, but they do lifestyle-shift. Given this horizon of continuously refreshing to a new body, human memory becomes precious and the only means for continuity in a world where theme-parks and corpses are swappable. Just like Walt Disney might have put his personal and corporate stamp on TomorrowLand, Doctorow draws on the popular memories of yesterday to get the reader to tomorrow. His characters wander through carefully landscaped walkways, while listening to those remarkably efficient techniques for crowd-control. Whatever corporations might have once ruled these theme-parks, tomorrow's defining unit assembles a group of compatible souls, in what is aptly coined as, the 'ad-hocracy'. Co-workers are ad-hocs. A good life, if extended for more than 10,000 years, has a few embellishments: to eat, sleep, travel, and of course access the net without hassle. This is where Doctorow, who is also the Outreach Coordinator for the Electronic Frontier Foundation, makes a good case for trading not on monetary currencies, but another currency highly personal and based on your reputation. His characters are continuously rated for their deeds. Like a multiplicity of networks that resemble a karmic rating -- akin to a hybrid of the Better Business Bureau and eBay--, reputation is not a tradeable item as much as dollars and cents. Doctorow has described a unique world of reputation economies. In his modernization of wearing your karma on your sleeve, society is governed by reputation and actions. This is not so much an ideal world, as a practical one which keeps considerable adventure and moves in anything but boring ways. 'The whole point ..was to be more reputable than the next ad-hoc, to succeed on merit, not trickery, despite assassinations and the like.' Therein lies Doctorow's thesis: an internet-saavy version of personal capital, particularly one's success rating with friends and neighbors. Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom coins this all-encompassing and frequently updated reputation rating, one's Whuffie. While friends' opinions may matter most in getting good Whuffie, a weighted score also makes room for those both likely-- and unlikely-- to be compatible. This version resembles a counterpoint system, and is called left-handed Whuffie: respect garnered from people who share very few of your own opinions. This is not a world of sycophants who seek mutual admiration. The future apparently holds true to both majority power, and also minority empowerment. If one imagines that such upheavals in global monetary policy might require a revolution, the future holds a much shifted class of motivational carrots and sticks. Indeed the question of what incentives might pre-occupy humans--assuming one's imminent demise was uncertain-- becomes an evolutionary leap. So if toolmaking defined early humans as anthopologically distinct, reputation-making defines the future of a new species in the Magic Kingdom. Doctorow describes: 'the death of scarcity, the death of death, the struggle to rejig an economy that had grown up focused on nothing but scarcity and death.' So what to do if modern biology got it right, including fostering its own obsolescence? Doctorow writes about, 'the miracle that all but obsoleted the medical profession: why bother with surgery when you can grow a clone, take a backup, and refresh the new body? Some people swapped corpuses just to get rid of a cold.' If an upheaval in biology led to such a remarkable, but bloodless, coup in macroeconomics, the future battlefields are the last place one might expect a banana republic to spring up: the serene, carefully manicured walkways of Orlando, Florida, and Disney World's engineered microcosms. This is not to say the future is an amusement ride. Even when stripped of the prospect of death or starvation, humans may retain drive and work ethics. Instead, the characters in Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom struggle in the same way NASA engineers might try to build a utopian space colony--independent of whether they hold stock options, or merchandising deals. Big plans are always still on the drawing boards. The narrative details all the ins-and-outs of what such a utopia might really need --or not need--for the perfect dirtside simulation. Take, for instance, an encounter with a future being fully adapted to its unique, rebootable life in space: We met in orbit, where I'd gone to experience the famed low-gravity sybarites. Getting staggering drunk is not much fun at one gee, but at ten to the neg eight, it's a blast. You don't stagger, you 'bounce'...I was bouncing around inside a clear sphere that was a mile in diameter, filled with smaller spheres in which one could procure bulbs of fruity, deadly concoctions. Musical instruments littered the sphere's floor, and if you knew how to play, you'd snag one, tether it to you and start playing.The need for space is what Disney World had mastered. His management seemed to have all the right pixie dust for both knowing the crowd, and controlling their every movement like a grand musical conductor. Every Disney ride is a miniature: Fantasyland, the Haunted Mansion, the Hall of Presidents, and of course Spaceship Earth.
Control of these miniatures was constructed quite consistently with a world that had substituted reputation gathering for the fear of any threat to long-term personal survival. The ideal of reputation economics may be self-governance or even politically-correct conformity, but the goal of designing a wait-free world is still one utopia worth competing for. Like the internet itself, one can go virtually anywhere if one just has the patience and time and right address. So how to rebuild planetary society, after humans have reached a technological superiority over themselves? When cellphones are implanted in the ear, with alarm-clock reminders? When the world smells of ozone cleanliness, or when the media broadcasts such a rich transmission signal, that its reception is comparable to cerebral 'flashbaking'? Thus Doctorow summarizes the history of the world, from past to future, all shot through a prism of the Magic Kingdom: "When Epcot Center first opened, long, long ago, there'd been an ugly decade or so in ride design. Imagineering found a winning formula for Spaceship Earth, the flagship ride in the big golf ball, and, in their drive to establish thematic continuity, they'd turned the formula into a cookie-cutter, stamping out half a dozen clones for each of the "themed" areas in the Future Showcase. It went like this: first, we were cavemen, then there was ancient Greece, then Rome burned (cue sulfur-odor FX), then there was the Great Depression, and, finally, we reached the modern age. Who knows what the future holds? We do! We'll all have videophones and be living on the ocean floor. Once was cute -- compelling and inspirational, even -- but six times was embarrassing. Like everyone, once Imagineering got themselves a good hammer, everything started to resemble a nail."In the Magic Kingdom, dirtside could never be simulated so cleanly. The Electronic Frontier Foundation, EFF, is a member-supported nonprofit that works to uphold civil liberties interests in technology law, policy and standards. Some issues Doctorow's working on today include: FCC spectrum regulation ("Can the FCC adopt regulatory regimes that serve the First Amendment better, allowing a greater number and diversity of speakers and speech?"), and copyright reform ("Napster and its ilk constitute the largest library of human creativity ever assembled"). Related Web PagesStudying Evolution with Digital OrganismsGenesis Project Terrafirma Now Digital Life Laboratory Earthly Endgames A Perfect World Perspectives Book online: Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, by Cory Doctorow Note: Terrestrial Climate: [2003-05-18] Display Options: Sunday, May 18, 2003 |
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