State-Sanctioned Science

           How reckless I used to be. I owe my life and status to the World State, yet my past behaviors defied the very foundation on which this great State was constructed. I thought I was intelligent, but really I was ignorant. I thought I was a scientist, but really I was a heretic. I’ve learned my lesson and I’m so very thankful I was given another chance. For the sake of our State and of humanity, I’m committed to upholding the very ideals I once neglected.

            I was in my prime, enjoying life’s greatest pleasures. Not yet 22, I obsessed over Electro-Magnetic Golf and had girls by the plenty - sometimes multiple girls a night, sometimes simultaneously. A pneumatics specialist by night, I was infinitely more surreptitious during the day. I was the Chief Biophysicist for the Centre of Hatcheries and Conditioning. My job was research-based. Officially, I was supposed to refine the Bovanovsky and Podsnap processes in order to surpass the embryo proliferation rates of our counterparts in Africa and Asia. But my office was laden with temptation. I dwelled in arm’s reach of the best technology, seemingly crafted by Ford himself. My workplace was my soma.

            In time, I became distracted from my job. I was constantly unfocused on the task at hand, electing to do my own research. Invigorated by the discoveries of Einstein and Tesla and Newton, I was most excited by the physical world and by the prospect of leaving my own mark on scientific history. As my focus increasingly eroded, I became invested in my own interests, ignoring the agenda of my employer, the State, and humanity. How reckless I used to be. But “Everyone belongs to everyone else” (Huxley 40). That famous bit of hypnopaedic wisdom gnawed at me, urging me to get back to work. I refused to listen and succumbed to my savage fantasies.

            Machines whirred, test tubes bubbled, and lights flashed. I was at home. My job was to find the best way to be productive. To squeeze the most human life from a single embryo. For a job that required the most productive outcome, I often observed, the process was highly inefficient. Alphas and Betas were manufactured solely to manufacture more Alphas and Betas. Human capital was always in high demand at the Hatchery. I wondered to myself: “Why not mechanize the Hatchery process? Why put people to work, when our machines could easily do the leg work?” After all, less time for work meant more time to indulge.

            Bit by bit, I materialized my dream. I was fueled by the desire for self-actualization. A bit of welding here, a bit of circuitry there. My pet project became my obsession. A metal arm slowly took shape. And then another arm, a pair of legs, a body, and finally a head. I kept thinking of that one verse from the Bible: “And I told them of the hand of my God that had been upon me for good, and also of the words that the king had spoken to me. And they said, “Let us rise up and build.” So they strengthened their hands for the good work” (Nehemiah 2:18). With my knowledge of the human body and my experience with mechanics, I created a robot. Proudly, I eyed my creation. Then the nagging feeling returned. “Everyone belongs to everyone else.”

            One day, I heard a knock on my office door. Frantically, I hid my robot under a blanket and I opened the door. The D.H.C. peered at me suspiciously. I quickly stood up straight and greeted him shyly.

“Hello,” the director gruffly responded.

“Would you like to come in?” I ventured. Without answering, the director stepped in drifted around my workplace.

“You’ve been awfully non-compliant lately,” he started. “We haven’t received a report from you in a month. Hatcheries in Africa and Asia continue to make advances in embryo-producing technologies, yet we remain idle. Your laziness and fruitlessness have begun to concern the administration, including myself.”

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll try to pick the pace,” I stammered. I prayed to Ford that he wouldn’t find the robot.

“Sure,” he grumbled. He stopped. Catching a glimmer of light from underneath the blanket, he walked toward my workbench. Suddenly, he yanked out the robot and started cackling madly.

“You fool. You thought you could trick the State,” then his tone took a dark turn, “but you have failed. Insolent child, you must know that your scientific foibles are prohibited in our society. You create for the State and for the State only. Not to satisfy some irrational dream you cherish. People must be put to work for without work there is no leisure. Happiness is dependent on work. You should be condemned for your sin. But your intellectual powers are immense, so I will offer you this: be exiled or accept training to become a World Controller.”

Any reasonable man would have accepted the latter option as I did. I quickly realized that my actions had unfettered the security of our great State. For in a State where stability and happiness reign supreme, the perception of science that dominated the era of Einstein and the other greats is only dangerous today.

Works Cited

Huxley, Aldous. Brave New World. New York: Harper & Bros., 1946. Print.