One scholar who has been particularly helpful to me in exploring the idea of alternative futures is Dipesh Chakrabarty. As part of the subaltern studies group, Chakrabarty’s work explores some very exciting ideas (at least to me, the guy with the history degree). One of his arguments in Provincializing Europe (one of my top reads this year) is that a system of evaluating history from a deterministic perspective runs aground when applied to reality. The fact that people live in radically different ways now, and have lived in radically different ways in the past, gives a model of an alternative approach to reality – not just a “backward” or “undeveloped” one, since many of these approaches to reality are aimed at dealing with the contemporary world without being overcome by it.

In ae, a growing topic of conversation is how to learn to swim in the heavy seas of an environment of technology – to avoid being dragged underneath and made the slaves of whatever tides of invention and technologization come our way. Presuming that there is only one possible future (an androidic singularity of post-biological humanity bound together with self-perpetuating machinery) is precisely the type of assumption that, because it does not allow for alternatives, should make us extremely suspicious.
Then the question becomes How? The current drive toward “the” singularity is guided by the imaginations of many people – whether inventors, science fiction authors, theoreticians, etc. – who envision this goal, and work toward its inception. An alternative future would be one that begins with an alternative vision: a different hope for the direction of human life. We rely on artists and thinkers of great visionary capability to enable us to achieve expanded, multiform, adaptive, transcendent goals. One of the remarkable “functions” of art is to enable us to see differently, to recognize something for the first time that may have been in front of us our whole lives, or even to take us into completely uncharted territory – the unprecedented experiences which can only be compared to other unprecedented experiences (as Elaine Scarry beautifully writes about in On Beauty and Being Just). Analogous to Chakrabarty’s approach, Scarry sees a dual movement within a person in an encounter with beauty: “...the way beautiful things have a forward momentum, the way they incite the desire to bring new things into the world: infants, epics, sonnets, drawings, dances, laws, philosophic dialogues, theological tracts. But we soon found ourselves also turning backward, for the beautiful faces and songs that lift us forward onto new ground keep calling out to us as well, inciting us to rediscover and recover them in whatever new thing gets made” (page 46).

Into this conversation enters the Cube – or at least, its pre-conception form. How might we engage in visual and aural art that reconnects us to each other, and not just to a central computer? How might a massive, immersive film experience enable us to escape the deterministic vision of the future from within the same technology usually wedded to those ideological purposes? I suppose this makes it easy to see why this isn’t a direct-to-market idea! The means matter to such as extent that the ends have no existence without them. Part of the “fruit” imagined as a result of experiences in the Cube would be critical reflection on the mediated life – basically, on the technological experience just encountered, as contrasted with the artistic experience breathed through the technological. Without this vigorous paradox, the Cube will be uselessly swallowed into rising tide of gray goo.