“Imagine there’s a child drowning in a shallow pond. You’re wearing a swimsuit and could easily save them. Sounds impausible? No, really, you can just save the kid. Don’t trust it? Okay, let me make it more believable: imagine there’s also a cute puppy guarding the pond that you’d have to kill to reach the child. Would you do it?”
My gut reaction to reading this might illuminate why people don’t take stories about utopia or easily-accomplished things seriously: there doesn’t seem to be much benefit to be gained by telling a story where everything goes well, there’s no dilemma or moral problem, and nothing salient to latch on to.
Imagine there was a TV show about a starship. It is run well, the ship functions normally, the crew go about their days, there’s plenty of power and supplies, the journey is vast and not very notable, their mission of moving cargo between two planets back and forth goes fine with no complaints. Once you got past the 2- or 3-episode explanation and tour of the ship and her crew, there wouldn’t really be much else different on episode 105 as there was on episode 5.
What would it take to make this show better? Conflict of some sort, perhaps between the crew, or with the environment, or the government, or maybe the suppliers/buyers of the cargo, or maybe with the isolating environment of space and the ennui of staring out a mostly-black window 24⁄7.
I also posit that we see this pattern in our own lives; we need something to do with our time, even if that something is just a hobby project or reading a few books. Consider fresh retirees in good shape: home paid off, kids in their own careers and doing well, spouse happy. Many such retirees may choose to take it easy, resting and watching TV, and this often either makes them miserable enough to reconsider or saddles them with health problems from their sedentary lifestyle, sometimes leading to death. Contrast with retirees who still make and keep plans, still go traveling, work on projects.
So that’s my guess. People don’t take stories about happy worlds where nothing goes wrong very seriously because there just isn’t much to say about such worlds, so why write stories about them?
My gut reaction to reading this might illuminate why people don’t take stories about utopia or easily-accomplished things seriously: there doesn’t seem to be much benefit to be gained by telling a story where everything goes well, there’s no dilemma or moral problem, and nothing salient to latch on to.
Imagine there was a TV show about a starship. It is run well, the ship functions normally, the crew go about their days, there’s plenty of power and supplies, the journey is vast and not very notable, their mission of moving cargo between two planets back and forth goes fine with no complaints. Once you got past the 2- or 3-episode explanation and tour of the ship and her crew, there wouldn’t really be much else different on episode 105 as there was on episode 5.
What would it take to make this show better? Conflict of some sort, perhaps between the crew, or with the environment, or the government, or maybe the suppliers/buyers of the cargo, or maybe with the isolating environment of space and the ennui of staring out a mostly-black window 24⁄7.
I also posit that we see this pattern in our own lives; we need something to do with our time, even if that something is just a hobby project or reading a few books. Consider fresh retirees in good shape: home paid off, kids in their own careers and doing well, spouse happy. Many such retirees may choose to take it easy, resting and watching TV, and this often either makes them miserable enough to reconsider or saddles them with health problems from their sedentary lifestyle, sometimes leading to death. Contrast with retirees who still make and keep plans, still go traveling, work on projects.
So that’s my guess. People don’t take stories about happy worlds where nothing goes wrong very seriously because there just isn’t much to say about such worlds, so why write stories about them?