Social Science Fiction

The future is intrinsically fascinating to me and fiction presents it more vividly than most non-fiction. I will admit to something of a fondness for dytopian literature. Utopias are compelling too, but well-written ones are much harder to come by. So here is a slight digression from my climate change posts, a list of dystopian fiction recommendations. What issue most concerns you? These are all futures that we should try to avoid; pick your poison.

Acute housing shortage? Strikingly depicted in Make Room! Make Room! by Harry Harrison. New York is stiflingly overpopulated, the oil has run out, anyone is entitled to squatters rights over the tiniest empty space and abandoned cars are prized as homes. I strongly suspect this book was written as an extended argument for the better access to contraception.

Endemic pollution destroying human health? Try The Sheep Look Up by John Brunner, a master of the genre. Constant food contamination scares and outbreaks of disease steadily push down American life expectancy and promote political instability. Overconsumption has poisoned the basic essentials of life. This novel has a particularly memorable, distinctly dark ending.

Capitalism gone to extremes? I give you Market Forces by Richard Morgan, in which Naomi Klein's worst nightmare manifests itself and civil wars offer the best investment opportunities. Über-macho traders duel with cars and kill anything in the path of profits. Although written prior to the credit crunch, probably reads more plausibly in light of it.

Dependence on the internet and obsession with celebrity? Gwyneth Jones' Bold As Love series is less depressing than most dystopias, but still depicts the collapse of civilisation and regression to subsistence-based feudal squalor. The catalytic event is the destruction of the internet, and events that follow include a civil war with armies led by pop stars.

Desertification and a precipitous fall in agricultural productivity? Earthworks by Brian Aldiss uncompromisingly shows the starvation and hopelessness resulting from inadequate food and crippling inequality. Unusually, it is centred on Africa, which adds to its punch.

Ground war in Europe with 21st century weaponry and guerilla methods? Kaleidoscope Century by John Barnes brings it to life. This novel is notably uncomfortable to read, in part due to the nature of the narrator. This is a Europe wracked by the horrors of failed states; war crimes and endemic AIDS.

Extreme weather triggered by climate Change? The Carbon Diaries by Saci Lloyd is to my mind the most immediately plausible of the bunch. It realistically explores how carbon rationing would work, through the eyes of a teenage girl. The tragedy is that it is already too late and climate change has taken hold. The discomfort of reducing your carbon footprint is neatly compared to the terror and danger of droughts, storms, and floods.

Withdrawal of public services and urban ghettoisation? The most effective depiction is a French action film, Banlieue 13 (District 13). Although predominantly an action flick, one of my favourites in fact, the premise is excellently realised. A deprived neighbourhood is walled in and has all public services withdrawn, as politicians no longer want to have to deal with it. Naturally, heavily armed drug dealers take over. To my disbelief, I recently read a US planning commentator recommend this exact approach, couched as allowing poorer areas to embrace the benefits of gated communities.

What I think characterises all these novels, as well as the dystopian genre in general, is the sense that things will only get worse. As I've said before, I think this mindset must be overcome in order to make progress in tackling climate change. Dystopian novels try to make a point and act as a warning, it isn't often that they propose a solution to whatever terrible situation humanity finds itself in. Wallowing in disaster is not a luxury that non-fiction, and reality, can afford. The vividness of dystopian novels is deceptive; the real world is much more complicated and ultimately interesting.

If you would prefer not to contemplate hellish theoretical futures, I suggest a recent, wonderfully snide novel of the banking crisis called Other People's Money by Justin Cartwright. Much too gentle and of the current moment to be a dystopia, it nonetheless dissects our relationships with banks and money beautifully. The old certainties of the banking system are dying. This novel could be read as a eulogy.