Temptaion
Afterword
 I seldom write two space-oriented "universe" books in a row. There are so many possible settings and situations for stories, and I like especially to intersperse more "grown-up" novels set on Earth, in near-plausible futures. Still, my Uplift Series of far-future space tales proved popular enough to draw me into a recent trilogy-Brightness Reef, Infinity's Shore, and Heaven's Reach. Added to three earlier novels-Sundiver, Startide Rising, and The Uplift War-they form a cluster of adventures in the unabashedly proud space-opera tradition . . . though I hope with some ideas mixed in with all the dash and sci-fi elan.
At one level, these works deal with the moral, scientific, and emotional implications of "uplift"-the genetic engineering of other animals to bring them into our civilization with human-equivalent powers of thought. Many other authors (e.g. H.G. Wells, Pierre Boulle, Mary Shelley, and Cordwainer Smith) dealt with this general concept before, but they all approached it in nearly the same way, by assuming the process would be abused-that the humans bestowing this boon would be mad, and would spoil things by establishing a cruel slave-master relationship with their creations.
Now of course that is one possible (and despicable) outcome. Those were good stories with wholesome moral messages. But that vein is overworked, so I chose a different tack. What if we someday begin modifying higher animals-and I think we clearly will-guided by the morality of modern liberal society? Filled with stylish hypertolerance and guilt-ridden angst, would we be in danger of killing our clients with kindness? More important, these new kinds of sapient beings would face real problems, even if they were treated well. Adjustment would be hard. One needn't picture slavery in order to sympathize with their plight.
Pondering the notion of uplift, it occurred to me how obvious the process might seem to alien beings who have traveled the stars for eons, encountering countless presapient life-forms and giving each one a boost, creating new generations of starfarers who would then do the same for others, and so on. The resulting image of a galaxy-spanning culture enthralled me. It would have great advantages, but perhaps would lead also to a kind of stultified cultural conservatism- an obsession with the past. Now suppose a young clan of Earthlings- not only humans, but also uplifted dolphins and chimps-encountered such a vast, ancient civilization. How would the newcomers be treated? How would we upstarts react?
Too many science-fictional scenarios assume states of unexplained disequilibrium, in which exploring humans happen to emerge just in time to bump into others out there at exactly the right level to be interesting competitors or allies. In fact, the normal state of affairs will be one of equilibrium-an equilibrium of law, or perhaps death. We may be the First Race, as I discuss in my story, "The Crystal Spheres," or very late arrivals, as depicted in the Uplift books. Either way, we're unlikely to meet aliens as equals.
My second motivation in this series was ecological. What we're doing to our Earth makes me fear there may already have been "brushfire" ecological holocausts across the galaxy. The common science-fictional scenario depicts eager settlers shouting, "Let's go fill the universe!" The wild frontier is a very satisfying image, but thoughtless expansion might create eco-wastelands within only a few years. If this has already happened a few times, it would help to explain the apparent emptiness that scientists now observe, in which the galaxy seems to have few, if any, other voices. This pattern might be avoided if something regulated the way colonists treat planets, forcing them to consider the long term. The Uplift universe presents one way this might happen. For all of their inscrutability and occasional nastiness, my Galactics set a high priority to preserving planets, habitats, and potential for new sapient life. The result is a noisy, bickering universe, but one filled with much more diversity than there otherwise might have been.
Of course, much of the fun has been trying to get into the heads of neo-dolphin or -chimp characters. The uplift concept makes this a nifty authorial exercise. When characters seem just a bit too human, that is a result (naturally) of both the genetic and cultural measures that were taken to make them members of Earth culture. But from the safe ground I've enjoyed exploring outward, harkening to older and more natural cetacean and simian instincts, both ennobling ones and those that might embarrass a proud sapient being-the way ghosts of ancient prehumanity sometimes trouble men and women in the modern era. In neo-dolphins, especially, I tried to combine the latest scientific facts and models of cetacean cognition with my own imaginative extrapolations of their "cultural" and emotional life.
Finally, like any good yarn, each story in the Uplift universe deals with some issue of good and evil-or the murky realm between. One that I've been confronting lately is the insidious and arrogant, but all too commonplace, assumption that words are more important than actions.
For centuries there has been a running conflict between those who believe that ideas are inherently dangerous, or toxic, and those on the other hand who propose that we can raise bold children into mature adults, able to evaluate any notion skeptically, on its merits. Even today, there are those in all political wings who feel that some elite (of the left or the right) should protect the masses from dangerous images or impressions. The same people often preach that "to think a thing is the same as doing it."
You see a connection to this in the revival of "magic" in fantasy literature. Magical protagonists are nearly always better, stronger, and more powerful than other characters not because they earned their status through preparation, or merit, or argument, but because of some intrinsic mystical power or force, setting them above other mortals. In these fantasy societies, power is either inherited or rooted in the Ubermensch's overwhelming ego, coercing nature to bend to his force of will. Spurned or forgotten is the cooperative effort of skilled professionals that has wrought real wonders of science and liberty in this century. Wielders of magical words are portrayed as better than mere shapers of matter, especially when those words are secret words, all-powerful and (of course) never to be shared with mere ignorant peasants. This kind of literature rejects the egalitarian thrust of Western Civilization, reverting to older traditions that praised and excused the power elites in every other civilization.
In my story "Temptation"-an offshoot adventure from events depicted in Infinity's Shore-we confronted that old malignant notion, the ever-lurking temptation of wishful thinking. As the dolphin characters conclude, it is possible to mix science and art. We can combine honesty with extravagant self-expression. We are not limited beings.
But far too much harm has been done by human beings who decide that persuasion is the only thing that matters.
Everything isn't subjective. Reality also matters. Truth matters. It is still a word with meaning.
-David Brin