“We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings.” – Ursula K. Le Guin
hey, here’s where she said that, if you, like me, had no idea until now. I’ve never read Le Guin, and I imagine many people’s response to this piece will be “go read Le Guin!” I’m planning on reading a lot of sci-fi this year, and am hoping I will look back on this post differently in 2026.
This week and next, I’m going to be writing about ways I’m interested in making my art more political. This is the internet, I realize 2007-2010 is the time of stone tablets. But that was when I was in writing workshops—before The Antiracist Writing Workshop, before it was made clear that writing about how badly you feel for treating women terribly doesn’t excuse you from continuing to treat women terribly, Junot Diaz. Without getting into a whole history, Trayvon Martin’s 2012 murder was a radicalizing event for me, followed quickly by GamerGate, the rise of BLM, the rise of MAGA, Me Too, the Manosphere, the open class war, and everything else our current moment is built upon. Back in 2012, I felt I had an incomplete education of how to merge literature and social engagement/politics. I feel like I was taught—and this is far less true of poetry workshops than fiction, and less true of fiction workshops than in lit classes—that both art with an agenda and art that fell into a genre were emphatically uncool.
I think the last 20 years have shown that genre, when played with right, is pretty cool. The last 10 years have shown *at least me* that everything is political, even choosing “not to be political.”
Sci-fi is probably our genre least afraid of getting involved with politics. There is leftist sci-fi—Star Trek, Alien. There is conservative sci-fi—whatever animates Elon Musk and Peter Thiel and their fanboys (I say “boys” deliberately). Except that’s not quite right, is it? Elon’s favorite book is The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, which I would describe as to the left of liberal, but not necessarily threatening the status quo (although maybe that’s just me in the 21st century instead of the 1980s). Without knowing much about Douglas Adams, I imagine he’d view Elon Musk the way Zaphod Beeblebox views anything more important than his own ego.1 Thiel, of course, is in love with The Lord Of The Rings (fantasy, not sci-fi, but they’re cousins). So much so that he named his surveillance company after the viewing device Sauron and Saruman use to spy on poor Pippin.
Something that turns me off from sci-fi is how many sci-fi fans are white supremacist dorks who want to ruin the world. I suppose something I’m trying to find out this year is: is that sci-fi’s fault?

If my perception of who I interact with on the internet and the number of journals there are dedicated to the genre is correct, sci-fi is our most popular genre. Who knows? Could just be me going “oh ok, everyone’s into sci-fi, guess I’ll be over here with my werewolves.” But it seems that way. Popularity is a great way to attract fans who suck—just ask any band that sells out.2 While I don’t think it’s sci-fi’s problem that powerful people don’t get it, I do wonder how something like Hitchhiker’s Guide can be so fully absorbed by the “women should get a vote, just 1/3 of one” crowd. The people who get so concerned with rules and world-building that it spills over into their political analysis. Instead of “hey, let’s have free healthcare,” these types of guys twist themselves into knots being like, “well, from the evolutionary psychology perspective, what is the purpose of the postmenopausal woman?” These types of guys joke about the Market Department of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation being first against the wall when the revolution comes, but if you talk about real-life revolution? They don’t care if it’s right-wing or left, just so long as can feel smug about how they totally called it. Noir and horror have these types of guys in the form of, say, True Detective creator Nic-A-Lotta-Pizza, guys who relish the grimdark a little too much and believe giving speaking roles to women and POC means society is collapsing. But at least those guys tend to end up at the end of a bar somewhere, instead of becoming some president’s Grima Wormtongue.

Maybe these are two different things, but what I’m trying to get at is: how do we solve the problem of the Torment Nexus? In case you’re unfamiliar, the Torment Nexus originated in 2021, with a tweet from Alex Blechman:
Sci-Fi Author: In my book I invented the Torment Nexus as a cautionary tale
Tech Company: At long last, we have created the Torment Nexus from the classic sci-fi novel Don’t Create The Torment Nexus
Since Alex’s tweet, it seems the problem of the Torment Nexus has only gotten worse. Political leaders keep calling generative AI “inevitable,” even though the product that currently exists is neither generative AI nor inevitable. No technology is inevitable. People are living perfectly happy lives at this very moment without cars, for instance. Not even uncontacted tribes or whatever—that was me until 2018. But these guys, these Silicon Valley guys and the grindset hustlers they inspire? They can’t read. Not for comprehension, anyway. They see Captain Kirk as Space Roger Sterling, not Space Enlightened Liberal Hero. They see interstellar exploration as a Solution To Climate Change That Also Allows Us To Create Ancient Rome On Mars. They see a few pedestrian deaths in the name of getting electric cars right as harmless casualties of progress, not human tragedies. They’d certainly never question whether we need interstellar travel (or cars) in the first place.

What I’m saying is I’d love to see sci-fi written by someone who appreciates, say, ‘s work. Someone who creates villains while listening to Ed Zitron’s podcast. Characters who aren’t enthusiastic about tech for tech’s sake. Characters who question orders but are powerless to stop them. I said earlier that Alien is leftist sci-fi (said it on the Lazy & Entitled Podcast Halloween Spooktacular, too). That’s because the characters are working stiffs victimized by a greedy corporation. They aren’t military leaders excited about space travel, they aren’t former Special Forces Officers Highly Trained For Situations Like This. They are workers—people—in a situation beyond their control. And it makes the idea of interstellar corporations look so catastrophically horrible that you begin to wonder if humanity has ever done anything similarly large-scale stupid.

That’s our moment right now. A bunch of loser sci-fi nerds3 who couldn’t get a date with a woman that they built are making life worse for the rest of us. A bunch of dorks who can’t read being all “technology is inevitable! Look! I built a spaceship worse than NASA in the 60s and dumped a billion barrels of oil in the Gulf of Mexico and we’re gonna colonize Mars!” The problem with out-of-control stupid rich people is that they can absolutely have civilization-altering effects. I don’t know what to do about all of this. The surveillance state makes protesting a greater risk than before. Technology that makes us more isolated means those in power have less incentive to listen to protest. I guess my solution is to try to write like Barton Fink?

In all seriousness, put more common people in genre art. Give me Annihilation but with Frances McDormand’s Burn After Reading character in the Natalie Portman role. Give me the story of Mouse or Switch getting unplugged from the Matrix. Give me the The Last Jedi sequel we should’ve gotten, with Rey staying a nobody who nevertheless rises to the occasion. Like, idk, if a bartender were to become and important politician or something.
Sorry you got an email,
Chris
“If there’s anything more important than my ego on this ship, I want it caught and shot now.” – Zaphod Beeblebrox
any younger Millennials or Gen Z, ask your older cousins to explain that joke
obviously not you, sci-fi nerd reading this. You are cool and attractive and wonderful.