Collectivism and Individualism, Progress and Regress, Societal Trajectory and the Individual Will in Science Fiction
In science fiction, human society is rarely static. It may progress and advance, or regress and decline, but it does not exist in an unchanging state. Though not all science fiction focuses on matters of societal scope, science fiction narratives in general define a particular societal trajectory for the worlds which they inhabit. Jules Verne, for example, echoed the Victorian Era’s faith in the ability of science to achieve societal progress, and offered visions of near-miraculous futures made possible by technology in Around the World in Eighty Days and Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Modern authors tend toward a more cyclic view of history and future societal trajectory. Asimov’s Foundation, directly inspired by Gibbon’s History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, is perhaps the most iconic chronicle of societal regression. Miller, in A Canticle for Leibowitz, tells the story of human society slowly rebuilding itself over centuries in the aftermath of a nuclear apocalypse, only to self-destruct and slide once more into darkness upon rediscovering the cursed knowledge of nuclear fission. But while these stories may differ in the shape of their societal trajectories, they share a common impetus that drives societal change: human effort, be it through individual or collective action. Both individualism and collectivism have the capacity to be either constructive or destructive, yet the two are often placed in opposition to one another. In Tanaka Yoshiki’s Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu (Legend of the Galactic Heroes), Reinhard von Lohengramm and Yang Wen-li are champions of individualism and collectivism respectively. But this adversarial framing of the individual and collective wills draws a false dichotomy: individualism and collectivism are two different aspects of the human effort which drives societal change; they come into conflict not because they are diametrically opposed, but as a consequence of human efforts coming into opposition.
There are three possible societal trajectories: progress, regress, and stagnation. While stagnation and regress are not identical, societal stagnation is often viewed as synonymous with decline. Perhaps this is because circumstance dictates appropriate policy or action, and a stagnant polity is one which cannot adapt to a changing world. In Asimov’s Foundation series, the first Foundation becomes accustomed to Seldon’s predictions successfully averting their crises, and thus their policy becomes one of passive reliance upon Seldon’s predictions. When a threat that Seldon could not foresee emerges, they are unable to adapt, and are consequently subjugated. In Kishi Yusuke’s Shin Sekai Yori (From the New World), the world order of the 21st century is torn apart by the emergence of a small population of humans with psychokinetic powers; chaos and violence ensue because existing societal institutions could not cope with this development. Even when society does not change, the world changes; institutional resiliency to shifting circumstances is enabled by innovation and dynamism, and thus, without progress and innovation, a stagnant institution inevitably finds itself in a situation which it cannot survive.
Inaction, if sustained indefinitely, ultimately leads to crisis. Yet incorrect action also has the potential for catastrophe, or at least to accelerate the process of decline. In Legend of the Galactic Heroes, after taking Iserlohn Fortress for the first time, Yang admits that any peace brokered between the Free Planets Alliance and the Galactic Empire will be temporary at best, yet a few decades of peace is perhaps the best he can hope for. However, Falk’s ill-conceived invasion of imperial territory which follows results in the loss of 20 million personnel, tens of thousands of ships, and shifts the galactic balance of power so far in the Empire’s favor that peace without surrender becomes out of the question. In Foundation, the time frame for the collapse of the Galactic Empire is estimated by Seldon to be about 500 years in the absence of any intervention. Yet Seldon’s plan for a second empire to return the galaxy to a unified and prosperous state ultimately hastens the demise of the first one: by seeking out and concentrating talent for the Foundation on Terminus, he alters the Empire’s societal trajectory and accelerates its decline by diverting the human resources which could have delayed it.
Regardless of what metric by which they are evaluated, both individual and collective action have the capacity for good and evil. However, individual and collective will have different roles and capabilities in shaping societal trajectory. In Foundation, Hari Seldon’s theory of psychohistory is able to empirically calculate the societal trajectory. His calculations presage the impending collapse of galactic civilization, and an ensuing 30 millennia of technological decline. To avert this catastrophic future, he establishes the titular Foundation, marshalling the efforts of the greatest minds in the galaxy to be guided by his predictions. While Seldon’s psychohistory is astonishingly prescient and accurate in its projections, its primary limitation is its inability to predict the actions of individuals: whereas the collective is predictable and unchanging, the individual is unpredictable and ephemeral. Legend of the Galactic Heroes also espouses this belief. Reinhard von Lohengramm is the paragon of the individual will: though the galaxy has been locked in a 150-year stalemate, his vision and genius are able to overturn the order of the galaxy and reshape it in the span of mere years. In such a manner, the individual will is capable of unprecedented good. Yet Rudolf von Goldenbaum, who in Legend of the Galactic Heroes is the ur-example of individual dominance over the collective, killed billions through his genocidal policies, and oppressed tens of billions more; just as Reinhard is capable of tremendous good, Rudolf is capable of equally tremendous evil. The collective, while also capable of both good and evil, is somewhat more limited in its capacity for both. The Free Planets Alliance, though suffering from endemic institutional rot and corruption, even in its last days never stoops to the same levels of depravity that were rampant in the Goldenbaum dynasty. One of the darkest moments of the Free Planets Alliance is when the National Salvation Council establishes military rule on Heinessen; in the riots that follow, over ten thousand civilians are killed, including Jessica Edwards. While each death is its own tragedy, the scale of misrule and corruption of the Free Planets Alliance never approaches that of Rudolf’s reign.
Moreover, while dictators like Rudolf are common and numerous in history, autocrats like Reinhard are exceedingly rare; Yang remarks that no one like Reinhard has ever been seen before. Perhaps this is because there are different requirements for one person to govern than there are for the collective to govern: as Yang says to Reinhard, responsibility for democratic rule falls on everyone, whereas in autocracy, all responsibility falls on the autocrat. For one man to rule well, he must be truly great to withstand the responsibilities; for the collective to rule well, each member must only be commensurate in character and ability to the tasks assigned to them. Schoenkoepf repeatedly urges Yang to seize power over the Free Planets Alliance, saying that Yang merely has to be better than Job Trunicht for it to have been worthwhile. Perhaps this would be true if Yang were an elected official; certainly, he might do a better job of governance than a self-interested politician like Trunicht. But if Yang were to become a dictator, he would have to be better than Reinhard von Lohengramm. Yang himself admits that were he born in the empire, he would willingly serve Reinhard; though he might be more skilled than Reinhard in military tactics, he lacks Reinhard’s talent for politics and governance; even as commander of the 13th fleet, Rear Admiral Edwin Fisher took responsibility for fleet maneuvers and deployments. Though others may view him as an incomprehensible genius, referring to him as “Miracle Yang,” he is aware of the limits of his own abilities, and refuses to become the final arbitrator of history, insisting on collective responsibility, even in the moment of his impending victory at the battle of Vermillion.
Ultimately, however, the individual will is powerless without the backing of the collective, just as the collective does not exist without the individuals who comprise it, and thus individualism and collectivism are merely two aspects of human effort, rather than two diametrically opposed forces. Reinhard may be an example of the pinnacle of what the individual will is capable of, yet he routinely relies on the talent of his subordinates to carry out his wishes. The deaths of Kircheis, Lennenkampf, Fahrenheit, and others are keenly felt by Reinhard; those who follow him achieve more than they could ever have dreamed of on their own, yet without them, Reinhard could not have achieved his ambitions. Had Kircheis been able to assist him all along, perhaps some of his victories would not have been as hard-fought; Yang may never have had the chance to deal a killing blow at Vermillion. Moreover, Reinhard understands that enduring institutions cannot rely upon the talents of one person, and designs the institutions of his new empire accordingly. Similarly, though Yang upholds the ideals of representative government and self-determination, it is by his efforts alone that the Free Planets Alliance is able to cling to existence. Bucock, Merkatz, and other capable leaders may die in the line of duty while the Alliance lives on, but Yang is indispensable and irreplaceable as the sole commander capable of challenging Reinhard in the field; though Julian may carry on his will that democracy endure in the universe, it is ultimately achieved only because Reinhard permits it. In Shin Sekai Yori, Kiroumaru champions the old ways; he is the ideal subject in the Confucian sense, upholding the relationship between subject and ruler through his loyalty and devotion to his queen and society. While his life, and the life of any individual in his society, is expendable in the service of his people, in Kiroumaru’s case, this collectivism isn’t a force that subsumes the individual spirit as Reinhard in Legend of the Galactic Heroes fears. Rather, it is through his service that Kiroumaru achieves self-expression: he displays his individual spirit through his courage in battle, his firm resolve, and his honorable conduct. On the other hand, though Yakamaru fights for freedom and self-determination for his race, he personally usurps power from his sovereign, and sends countless others to die in his stead. Though it is his will and plans being enacted, this is more of an act of self-effacement than one of self-expression: upon his capture and impending execution, he remarks that he himself is unimportant; one day, another like him will arise and take on his task.
Whereas Aristotelean tragedy arises when a tragic hero succumbs to their hamartia, Hegelian tragedy arises when two opposing systems of virtue come into conflict. Yang lectures Julian that “there are few wars between good and evil: most are between one good and another good.” Collectivism and individualism are the two entwined aspects of the human effort which drives societal change: both are capable of good and evil in great and small measure, yet when they come into conflict, it is often the tragic clash of one good against another. Though Yakamaru is deceitful, dishonorable, and manipulative, he ultimately seeks freedom and self-determination for his race; Yang Wen-li upholds these principles as the highest ideals, and is celebrated for it. Oberstein is similarly cold and calculating in his willingness to sacrifice the two million inhabitants of Westerland in order to bring the civil war to a swifter end, perhaps saving more lives in the process. Even the creation of the queerats from humans without psychokinetic powers in Shin Sekai Yori can be viewed, from a certain perspective, as necessary for humanity’s continued survival, though perhaps this act is a moral abomination. There are exceptions, of course: Rudolf von Goldenbaum and the genocide he enacts is no less than senseless evil. Job Trunicht in his self-serving pettiness and willingness to sell out both state and citizenry in the pursuit of his personal gain also embodies this, though on a lesser scale. Yet in the pursuit of good, the collective and individual work in cooperation, rather than opposition: just as the Free Planets Alliance cannot be sustained without Yang Wen-li, so too must Reinhard rely upon his subordinates. When the collective and individual will come into conflict, it is when the goals of human effort come into opposition.