Thursday 14 July 2022

Book Review: Autonomous by Annalee Newitz

 Set about 120 years in the future, Autonomous presents a world split into different economic zones, where sapient robots can have equal status to humans. Supposedly, at least.



The plot follows two threads. Paladin is a combat robot, indentured (for a period of ten years, to earn his autonomy) to IPC, which regulates pharmaceuticals and patent infringement.



Jack is a pirate - literally and legally; she makes knock-off versions of expensive drugs, such as the Viva life-extension drugs, and smuggles them to people who can’t afford the real thing.



The plot revolves around a productivity drug that Jack has reverse engineered, a compound that seems to allow people to get a buzz of achievement just for doing their normal, everyday jobs and therefore increasing their focus and output. When she starts hearing reports that some people have become dangerously obsessed with menial tasks to the point of harming - and killing - themselves and others, she initially thinks she’s made a mistake with her formulation but finds out it is something bigger.



However, as with the best books, the plot isn’t really what the story is about - although we do delve into the morality of patents, and of those who can afford it getting an edge over those who can’t. No, this novel is very much about identity, about what it is to be human - as, I suppose, all robot stories are. It is about relationships and gender - particularly about the way gender is something imposed by the expectations of others - and, of course, about autonomy and all that this means.



Newitz set up invites us to draw comparisons between the indentured ‘bots and the indentured humans, how one is assumed to be enslaved as a “natural” state whilst the other naturally free - but if both are sentient and sapient, is that reasonable? There are a couple of particularly lovely moments: it is mentioned that some humans resent ‘bots because they believe that allowed them to work toward autonomy has blurred the distinction and is what allows humans to be indentured - while, of course, it is actually capitalism that enables this. In another, Med - a ‘bot who has been raised entirely free, in effect as a human - is often treated as though she has faulty or compromised “programming” if she makes a contentious comment.



For about the first half of the bookI was enjoying it and admiring the ideas, but not really loving it - but then as the backstories began to fill in more and the layers built, I did love it. I loved the characters and relationships, that each had their own depths and frailties - even the bad guys. It is also very good science fiction - in that, while the ‘bots may not be a good prediction of how machine intelligence will pan out, that isn’t the point. Paladin is a person, for all their inbuilt weapon, armour and strange senses. As Ursula le Guin puts it in her introduction to the Left Hand of Darkness:


“Predictions are uttered by prophets (free of charge), by clairvoyants (who usually charge a fee, and are therefore mor honored in their day than prophets), and by futurologists (salaried). Prediction is the business of prophets, clairvoyants, and futurologists. It is not the business of novelists. A novelist's business is lying. Science fiction is not predictive; it is descriptive”



And, of course, fiction is the lie that tells us the greatest truths about ourselves.


Tuesday 5 July 2022

Habits

I've been aware for some time that I've been drinking too much. Way too much. For the last couple of years.


In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I went to bed sober. Clearly, that is not good. Clearly it was a problem, but was it a Problem.


I'd come to accept that I was probably an alcoholic, and that it was definitely causing me harm. At my lowest I wondered if it was deliberate, slow suicide.


So, a couple of days ago I stopped drinking. Last week I had terrible acid reflux - belching and uncontrollable hiccupping, something that never happens me me. I have something of an iron stomach and never seem to suffer from even indigestion, so this worried me a bit.


It was easing off and on Saturday evening I fixed myself a gin and tonic and it roiling immediately returned. So that was my last alcohol for the night. Just tonic after that. The same every evening since, just tonic and lemon, which tastes lovely and fits the habit of having a couple of glasses of something.


Today, I took the dog on a long early evening walk and, when I got home thought "I fancy a beer". It didn't feel like a craving, I just thought it would hit the spot. I had a couple of tins of lager in the fridge, and more in the cellar head.


So I cracked open one of the cold ones while making my evening meal and it did indeed hit the spot. I finished the tin, dropped it in the recycling - and didn't even consider going for the remaining one.


I got the bottle of tonic from where I'd put it in the freezer - right next to half a bottle of mostly frozen gin - and made myself a gin and lemon.


I'd not planned this. I'd not considered what I'd do if that first beer had started a chain, but in retrospect I think the only sensible thing would've been to pour every bit of booze in the house down the sink.


So, I guess I'm not an alcoholic after all? I'm not claiming any strength of will or character, or a super power, I think I've just been lucky, and I could so easily have not been. It seems that I might be able to have the occasional drink, but will keep a careful watch over myself and, should I start to fall into that pit again try to pull myself up short.