“We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.”
In March, I attended a local science fiction and fantasy fandom conference as one of the presenting authors. During the authors’ showcase I participated in, someone asked me what a space opera was and how it’s different from science fiction. I was perplexed by the question, as I see space opera as a sub-genre of science fiction. To me, space opera provides a potential view into other worlds and often includes scientific components from those worlds, even if they seem like fantasy to this world. This person seemed to be working from the premise that science fiction had to qualify as “hard” science fiction, meaning that the science found within was supported by present-day scientific assumptions found in Westernized cultures.
I fumbled through this question and ended up describing my book. The Elders’ Sequence takes place on another world filled with people from another species whose sciences are highly advanced, but in ways a Westerner from Earth might not expect. For example, this species (the Aluzamoakans) has technologies that can detect and analyze subtle energy fields. Their sigvib technology can read a person’s signature vibrations, a set of nonphysical frequencies unique to each individual and currently undetectable by modern science on Planet Earth. The philosophies and technological advancements of the Aluzamoakans have transcended and included material reality.
The person at the conference didn’t seem interested in what, to them, was mere fantasy. They immediately pivoted and stated that this kind of book allowed us to see ourselves “out there”. They asserted that it took the human condition and cast it onto another world, which allowed us to see ourselves reflected back.
At first, I agreed, and the showcase went on. But later that weekend, I acknowledged that I felt a sense of discord with that statement, particularly as it related to my book. Were I to go back to the moment with this audience member, I think I would have answered, “Maybe. And maybe stories like mine shows humans a potential new way of being.”
This is an important feature because the human ways of doing things (and predominantly, the Westernized, colonizing ways found so often in sci-fi) are not the only ways. These ways might not be the most beneficial ways, even for humans. Furthermore, I don’t like to assume that the species in my book, or any other sentient species from another world, thinks and acts in the same ways one dominant species on Planet Earth does.

I’ve noticed that humans often take the anthropocentric view this audience member did. One widely accepted assumption in Western culture and its science is that Homo sapiens remains the only (or most) sentient species to exist in the Universe. Along with this assumption usually comes another: that the perspectives of the human species hold greater value than any other species, making humans the center of the Universe. In some ways, the geocentric (read: egocentric) model has not left Western civilization despite all the science that disproves it.
If that perspective happens to widen a bit to include the possibility of other sentient species, it is often assumed that those species would be very similar to humans, developing in very similar ways—in their biology, in the trajectories of their civilizations and technologies, and in their philosophies. Most often, the common human theme of hostility that leads to war and destruction are projected onto this species as well. But why would any of that be mandatory for sentient life elsewhere?
It’s more probable that these other species would develop essentially according to the unique collective experiences of their species and their world—not ours. Evolutionary biology might be a paradigm shared across the Universe, but by its nature, it’s vastly flexible because that’s how life persists. It’s responsive to its environment, adaptable in endlessly creative ways. Look around on this planet and find that evolution has produced such a wide diversity of species, some of which can seem “alien” to humans.
The anthropomorphic principle works for one species---the species who created it. To assume that it should and can be applied to any other species is myopic and simply not creative. Some might argue that this principle is all humans have to make conclusions. I disagree. We have the mystery that can make us uncomfortable. We have the imagination to explore that mystery, to explore what it might be like for other species. That might make us uncomfortable, too. But maybe an uncomfortable view of another world is what we need to shift our own perspectives toward a more harmonious world here.
Projecting human behavior and having it mirrored back to us in science fiction doesn’t seem to promote much change in that behavior. The genre has been trying it for decades. Perhaps new visions are what we need. If we go where our science has yet to go using our own minds, we can conduct our own thought experiments. We can learn from the species we envision. Instead of expecting those species to behave with the hostile tendencies they’re often expected to display, we can imagine different behaviors and thought patterns. This is how we pave a more beneficial way forward—by getting creative and envisioning potential new ways of being.

The primary world in my book series, the world of Aluzamoak, provides a window into my vision. I’m sure that many others have their own visions to share, but allow me to show you a bit of mine. The Aluzamoakans aren’t living in total harmony with each other or other worlds, but they view each other and their responsibilities to each other in ways different than the dominant paradigms on Earth lead humans to see each other. The Aluzamoakans embrace communality and collective care. They honor elder figures who have done the work to earn their place as wisdom holders (as opposed to assuming authority just because they’re senior in age). A group of elders elect Aluzamoak’s Leaders, the figureheads of the planet and empire who take vows to serve the collective at all costs. Should any Leader attempt to use their authority for their own gain, they are punished, sometimes with death. People are prioritized over profit and collective gain valued above personal gain.
The Aluzamoakans appear very different from humans in their looks and their culture, which is vastly different from Westernized (namely, capitalist) culture. However, you might find that the Aluzamoakans are not so far removed from us. You might find in them paths to new ways of being, and through that, you might even see yourself on another world. You might not see it so much as fantasy, but as a possible future reality.
Copyright 2024 by S. A. Ferguson.
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