Parsing Out Dystopia: Refining Dystopia

I have written this sub-series “Parsing Out Dystopia” for several years now, since the start of COVID-19. During those many posts I have considered the idea of dystopia from various perspectives (political, economic, technical, global warming and regional conflicts). Pondering the metaphysical nature of dystopia, I have come to believe that our conventional view of dystopia is far too limited. I want to broaden the traditional definition of “dystopia” so that it better fits contemporary experience.

Long confined to the realm of speculative fiction, dystopia is, in my opinion, a tangible, multifaceted psychological state in our present-day world. We don't need to read so-called dystopian fiction to experience dystopia. All we have to do is watch the news (if you can trust it) and realize that what is happening before our very eyes is largely a negative reaction to the future. A refusal to integrate. A "turning back" to a time that no longer exists (and may have never existed as some envision).

This is counterintuitive to the extent that, I argue, dystopia is not some future doom descending upon us. It is, rather, our insistence on dragging the perceived past into the present as a response to the future (see the Einstellung Effect), thereby creating a void of inapplicability to situations that require innovation, not precedent. The preference of precedent over novelty is a fundamental feature of dystopia.

Dystopia isn't some strange future; more than anything, it's the result of psychologically disabled people attempting to force their idea of the past into the future. It's the trauma and violence of those seeking to revert today's forces to a ill-understood past version of society that largely exists only in storybook minds. Things were never that great, no matter which past you may revere. (But dystopian psychology is far more complex than glorifying the past, see below.)

Traditionally, dystopia is about future technologies gone wrong or human environmental degradation or an authoritarian nightmare more so than seeing it as antiquated paradigms impacting the world negatively. It's the past seeping into the future, so to speak. The rapid pace of technological change and the resulting liberalization of society are too much for those fixated on old worldviews. This is making them increasingly traumatized and, hence, agitated and aggressive. This is the true nature of dystopia of today.

We're witnessing a war between the future and the past, playing out on the battlefield of our present. On one side, we have the unstoppable forces of technological change and the enhancement of human variation and capabilities. On the other, we have those clinging desperately to old ways, trying to force them into a world that is fundamentally different and changing rapidly into something unpredictable.

Ordinarily associated with bleak visions of future societies characterized by totalitarian control, environmental decay, and the suppression of individual freedoms, the concept of dystopia extends far beyond these external manifestations. Dystopia is not merely a hypothetical societal construct, but a lived experience rooted in the human psyche, particularly evident in the psychological phenomena of melancholia and the existential "sameness of opposites" in contemporary discourse.

The dystopian genre has its roots in early literature, with works such as Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels (1726) and Samuel Butler's Erewhon (1872) laying the groundwork for societal critique through fictional narratives. However, it was the rise of totalitarian regimes in the early 20th century (predominantly Stalin and Hitler) that spurred a significant increase in dystopian literature, giving birth to seminal works that continue to influence the genre today.

Classics of dystopian literature, such as George Orwell's 1984, Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, and Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale, have traditionally been defined by their depiction of oppressive regimes, pervasive surveillance, and the loss of personal autonomy. Common themes include the suppression of individuality, dehumanization, and the use of advanced technology as a means of control rather than liberation. However, this focus on external conditions only scratches the surface of what makes dystopian narratives so compelling and relevant to our current reality.

The internal struggles of characters living in these harsh realities provide a more insightful and emotionally resonant portrayal of dystopia. It is here that we begin to see the bridge between fictional dystopias and our contemporary experience. The psychological landscape of dystopia is characterized by several key elements: existential isolation, loss of agency, moral ambiguity, and the fragmentation of memory and identity. Those are the established characteristics of dystopia.

To this should be added regression, nostalgia, what I call “dislocated authenticity,” and another phrase I use which I have posted about before in this sub-series - "the sameness of the opposites." These are all symptomatic of this dystopia now. Let's break each one down:

Regression: We're seeing this play out in real-time with decisions like the reversal of Roe v. Wade and the Alabama Supreme Court interfering with IVF treatments, absurdly concluding that unfertilized embryos are legally "children." MAGA, the force behind these regressions, is the fastest growing political power in America. This is dystopia. You can't make this stuff up and have it pack the same punch.  This is the primary ingredient creating the void of inapplicability I mentioned above.

Nostalgia: Though largely unnoticed, nostalgia plays a particularly fundamental role in shaping the dystopian experience, both in literature and in our present-day lives. In dystopian narratives, characters often yearn for a past that no longer exists, creating a poignant contrast between their memories and their current reality. This longing for what has been lost serves multiple functions: it humanizes the characters, intensifies the sense of loss and alienation, and creates a temporal dislocation where individuals feel "stuck" between a remembered past and an existentially strange present. The excellent work of Simon Stålenhag in his graphic novels such as Tales from the Loop and The Electric State obtains much of its power through the longing for a recent past that is, for mysterious reasons, no longer available.

But, this nostalgic element is not confined to fiction; it manifests in our contemporary world as well. As I have previously posted, most people today (being regressive in nature, see here, here and here) experience a profound sense of longing for the return of a supposedly “better” past, whether it's a time before the dominance of digital technology, a prior period of perceived economic stability, or an era of less polarized political discourse. This nostalgia for an idealized past reflects a cognitive dissonance with the present, intensifying the feeling of living in a dystopian reality.

Dislocated authenticity: The yin to nostalgia's yang is what I call dislocated authenticity - a profound sense of disconnection between one's true self and the societal structures that often resist or deny this intimate authenticity. This forward-looking disquiet is felt as a deep-seated need for a given person to live genuinely in a world that seems misaligned with their very essence. We see this manifested in various groups - be it transgender individuals, racial minorities, or any segment of the population seeking inclusion and equality. Their primary goal is not societal transformation, though that may be a consequence; instead, they simply yearn for the freedom to exist within society as themselves without prejudice or obstruction.

This dislocated authenticity creates a distinctive flavor of dystopian experience. This is the pervasive feeling that one's true self is fundamentally out of sync with the world, held at bay by societal norms, prejudices, and antiquated systems of precedence. It manifests in various ways: the alienation of being misunderstood or misrepresented, the disorientation of navigating a society not built for one's authentic existence, or the exhaustion from constantly seeking a place where one can fully be oneself.

The interplay between nostalgia and dislocated authenticity leads to a state of melancholia that permeates our contemporary experience of dystopia. This melancholia goes beyond simple sadness; it's a complex emotional state that encompasses disquiet, unfulfilled desire, and fear from perceived existential threats. Nostalgia fosters the feeling of being trapped and isolated in an idealized past, while dislocated authenticity seeks a future where a person can fully exist as their authentic self - a future that seems perpetually out of alignment with the present, creating a reality that feels increasingly alien and dystopian.

The melancholia that permeates our contemporary experience is the result of the interplay between persons of nostalgia and persons of dislocated authenticity. This melancholic state is not just about longing for the past or yearning for an elusive future - it's about the tension created when these opposing forces collide in the present (see sameness of the opposites next). It's the realization that we can neither return to some sort of idyllic past nor fully manifest the anticipated future. This tension manifests as a form of existential distress, a key component of the contemporary dystopian experience.

Sameness of the opposites: We find ourselves in a reality where opposing ideological factions, despite their apparent differences, often contribute to the same fundamental problems: lack of civility, demonization of the other, an inability to engage in meaningful dialogue and even elevating the potential for violent behavior as a reaction of differing frustrations. This phenomenon creates a sense of futility and disillusionment, frustration and fear, due to the fact that traditional means of fostering civil society, engaging in ethically legitimate discourse and resolving conflicts seem to no longer apply. Compromise, the very cornerstone of American democracy, has become almost unthinkable. Instead, perpetual polarization is the order of the day.

The current “culture wars” between regressives and progressives in lifestyle and politics actually encourages dystopia. Though the ideals are different, their impact upon society is the same. It's a more extreme form of that which motivates both nostalgia and dislocated authenticity. But it's not melancholic in itself. It's simply the past lingering in the present, or the future stuck beyond the horizon, both sides seething with clenched teeth. 

So, we have the perception of the past lingering and the future stalled, and this creates a contemporary melancholic tension, regardless of where anyone sits on the political spectrum. In this sense, political legitimacy is dead and we have killed it.  The culture wars are symptomatic of the inevitable tension between how society will become in the future and, as Lovecraft put it, "the safety of a new dark age."  There's is no way around this since all human "truth" is a competition of value judgments.  The inevitability of the present collision course is another pronounced indication of dystopia.

As I have also pointed out before, Ken Wilber's work is relevant here, though he doesn't use the term "dystopia." In Sex, Ecology, Spirituality (1995), he writes about what happens when a person or group is psychologically challenged to "integrate" with the next level of personal development. Attempts to "permanently turn back the pages of emergent history" are an essential aspect of what I call dystopia.

This is what's happening now with Right-wing and populist groups globally, but particularly in America. This effort is determined to erase as much of the accomplishments of the Left over the past 75 years as possible, to reboot the 1950's. Back to, according to Wilber, "a time prior to the differentiation." I contend such a time encompassing civil rights, reproductive rights, gay marriage, transgender rights, environmentalism, etc. is being rebooted to “a time prior.” In the face of this, other people seek to alter the basic “programming” of society with new principles developed out of the political ideas just delineated and well-established in, say, ethics or academia. They aspire to “a time yet to come.” This inevitable tension is clearly the sameness of the opposites and is, or should be, a cornerstone of dystopia.

Beyond regression, melancholia and the sameness of opposites, other psychological elements contribute to the contemporary dystopian experience. It's the usual suspects, really. Existential isolation, born from a profound sense of alienation not only from others but from one's own sense of self, is a common thread. This isolation is exacerbated by the paradoxical nature of our hyper-connected yet emotionally distant digital age.

Loss of agency, another key aspect of dystopian psychology, manifests in our world through feelings of powerlessness in the face of large-scale societal, technological, and environmental changes. Many individuals feel unable to significantly impact the systems that govern their lives, echoing the helplessness experienced by characters in dystopian fiction.

Moral ambiguity and the struggle to maintain one's humanity in challenging circumstances are also central to both fictional dystopias and our current reality. As we navigate complex ethical dilemmas posed by advancing technology, environmental crises, and shifting social norms, we often find ourselves in morally gray areas reminiscent of dystopian narratives.

The fragmentation of memory and identity, a common theme in dystopian literature, finds its parallel in our (dis)information-saturated world. The constant influx of data, coupled with the malleability of digital information (deepfakes), can lead to a sense of disconnection from our own histories and identities.

This fragmentation is further compounded by the phenomenon of "hyperreality," as described by Jean Baudrillard in Simulacra and Simulation (1994), where the distinction between reality and simulation becomes blurred and individuals, often unknowingly, live out their lives in contrived worlds of inauthenticity created by contemporary forces such as marketing and consumerism.

Real-world manifestations of these dystopian elements are evident in various aspects of contemporary life. Technological alienation, as people struggle to adapt to rapidly advancing digital technologies and virtual worlds, creates a personal sense of dystopia. Environmental changes due to the climate crisis engender a form of ecological dystopia, with individuals experiencing a profound sense of loss for a remembered natural world. Political disillusionment, cultural shifts, and economic uncertainties all contribute to a dystopian mindset characterized by displacement, alienation, and a struggle to adapt to new paradigms.

To the established characteristics of dystopia - existential isolation, loss of agency, moral ambiguity, and the fragmentation of memory and identity - we must now add the melancholic interplay of nostalgia and dislocated authenticity. This melancholia, born from the tension between past and future, haunts our perception of the present.

But here's the kicker: there is no historical precedent for any lasting human regression at the societal level. Prohibition in America (the 18th Amendment), for example, failed utterly. My guess is our abolition of abortion will similarly fail. Elitist forces of both the Left and the Right hold only temporary sway over the transient expectations of the masses (Nietzsche's “herd” engulfed by advertising and surveillance in ways he could never fathom). Meanwhile, forces like technological change and the enhancement of human capabilities are unstoppable.

The violence that may result in the meantime will inevitably be marginalized by “suburban moms,” though not perhaps until after a lot of pain and suffering are manifested. But, the more violent and reactionary certain parties become both in the face of unstoppable change and in the tide of generational momentum, the more "mainstream" people will reject those who are the most violent and unstable. Most people may be psychologically medieval but they do not condone ferocity in the streets. They will not support a major disruption to their consumption and convenience. Even antiquated psychologies seek security and stability over ideological chaos. Ultimately, such violence will facilitate the world Gen Z and Gen Alpha will create (what I call “the coming of the Modern”).

I'm hopeful, but only in the longer term after my generation (I am a boomer) loses power to younger perspectives. We're in for a world of hurt in the short term. We can expect a fair amount of regression. The world will become both strange in the face of dislocated authenticity and regressive in the form of nostalgia at the same time. This means that, more than likely, the tension between the two will only increase. Violence is likely inevitable as the world approaches genuine transformation.

But, this is a continuum, not a destination. There is no point of arrival (which is part of what frustrates fascists and leftists alike – another manifestation of the sameness of the opposites). We are living in a constant state of becoming where nothing will ever be obvious to everyone. But, gradually, more and more will adopt the future (generational momentum). Until then, dystopia is probably the fundamental existential condition of our time.

We're standing in the middle of the stream, constantly adjusting to new realities. By coming to terms with constant dynamism and plurality of perspectives as intrinsic to life, we are less troubled when they manifest. Our challenge is to endure the inevitable turmoil erupting all around us without compromise until the newest generation's openness and adaptability can take root.

We are wrong to confine dystopia to the pages of speculative fiction or to distant future scenarios. It exists here and now, in the complex interplay between our memories, our present circumstances, and our anticipations of the future. Trump's likely re-election (even now with Biden out and Harris apparently in) is dystopian, a convicted felon could become our leader. The culture wars are dystopian as detailed above. The crisis of debt, worldwide regional wars, global warming, the wiping out of entire ecosystems, consumer surveillance, cyberhackers, and the resulting death of personal privacy (of which younger generations aren't even aware) are all dystopic.

By broadening our understanding of dystopia to encompass its psychological aspects, we can recognize the full spectrum of dystopian elements in our present reality. There are no obvious or predictable destinations, only the ongoing responsibility to navigate changes with justice, ethics, and care for this fleeting moment we inhabit. We do so less for some future triumph that is the aim of culture warriors of all kinds, but more because the alternative would be to waste the potentialities of the future. Wasting our potential while longing for an idealized past is our reality. This is dystopia now, the void of inapplicability. This is a more complete, humanist framing for the concept of the dystopian nightmare. Look around you. Though we seem to agree on very little, we are all in this together.

(Written with assistance from Claude and ChatGPT.)