Extraterrestrials and the End of Humanity: Teaching International Relations through Science Fiction

This is a guest post by Dr. Brent Sasley, who participated in the Libraries' Experiential Learning Faculty Fellowship (ELFF) program this past spring.

Science fiction (SF) tells us something about both the human condition and the future of humanity. That’s why I wanted to teach POLS 4375: Science Fiction and International Relations, a course that uses SF texts to think about some of the problems our societies face in the contemporary period. I taught the course for the second time in Spring 2023, building both off what I learned from the first time I ran it, and through the Experiential Learning Faculty Fellowship (ELFF). This time I incorporated, alongside the research paper, a creative media/technology element. Each students engaged in their own enterprise, choosing a SF text (such as a film, book, TV series, video game) and an issue in international affairs. Using the UTA Libraries FabLab and Studios, they created an artifact tying the two together, then presented the project to the class.

This semester I went with a specific theme: Extraterrestrials, loss of human control, and (forced?) cultural change. The seven books we read all dealt with either a friendly or not-so-friendly human-ET interaction. Some of the outcomes of the relationship were…well, you’ll see:

Childhood’s End, by Arthur C. Clarke. The Overlords impose peace and stability on Earth—along with an end to art, science, and human curiosity. Then they kill most of humanity. Children, though, “evolve” into a single consciousness and then into an ether-like substance that destroys the planet.

Dawn, by Octavia E. Butler. Humans destroyed themselves in a nuclear holocaust, but some are saved by the Oankali, so their genes can be harvested and integrated with the Oankali’s. It’s the only way for both species to survive in some form. Lilith becomes the Oankali’s primary human interlocutor, and it’s her struggle to accept the unacceptable that form the framework of the novel.

The Three-Body Problem, by Cixin Lui (translated by Ken Liu). This book explores the dark forest theory: that there is advanced life elsewhere in the universe, but every civilization views every other civilization as a threat. So if one civilization makes itself known, it’ll be destroyed to protect the others. Therefore, all civilizations remain silent; it looks like the universe is simply a dark forest. The Trisolarans’ home planet becomes uninhabitable every so often, so they need to find another planet to live on. Through contact primarily with Chinese scientists and others, the Trisolarans play a double game of misdirection and divide-and-conquer. At the end of the book, the Trisolarans send humanity this message: “You’re bugs!”

Semiosis, by Sue Burke. Human colonists, looking for a new home to escape the ravaging of Earth, settle on a planet full of flora. While trying to build their society, they come up against a variety of sentient plant life. By the end of the novel, Stevland, a bamboo-type plant at the top of the vegetative hierarchy, is manipulating the humans into a subservient role to serve its own needs.

The Seep, by Chana Porter. An invisible lifeform comes to Earth and seeps into human bodies. They bring with them not only an end to human suffering, but the ability for humans to change their bodies into anything—including becoming babies again. Trina, a trans woman, resists what she considers the end of human freedom.

What could we possibly have learned from these mostly-horrifying ends? A lot, actually. In class we discussed a range of themes, including race and racism, environmentalism, gender and sexuality, xenophobia, colonialism, genocide, and whether we came away from all of this feeling optimistic or pessimistic about the future of humanity.

The creative media and technology facets of the research projects helped us think about these ideas and fears and concerns through a more visceral experience. For example, one project explored how some Japanese anime represent Japan’s fears of nuclear war and occupation, and interspersed film clips with news clips. Another compared the original Star Trek series’ struggles with race and gender with some countries’ foreign policies. A third discussed what we can learn from George Orwell’s 1984 about autocratic regimes today, and presented a contemporary version of the Two Minutes Hate—the propaganda videos the government uses to keep citizens compliant and hateful.

Jutta Weldes wrote that SF helps us think about international relations in five ways[1]: First, the language used in SF texts is interchangeable with language used in our world. Think, for example, about “time travel” or “star wars.” Second, SF teaches us about real world issues and problems, some of which I’ve mentioned above. Third, SF represents our hopes and fears: what do we hope we can achieve? What are we afraid of?  

Fourth, SF can reproduce hegemonic structures. For instance, Hollywood usually highlights the “goodness” of US military action. Alternately, consider how often movies and series about revenge reinforce the value of violence as the key to winning. Fifth, SF can also challenge hegemonic structures, by showing us new ways to approach things. Star Trek, for example, offers a grand vision of the future—not always peaceful, but at least within the Federation certainly more harmonious than on Earth.

In other words, pop culture isn’t just a way for us to be entertained. After all, as Ursula K. Le Guin wrote, “The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live: a live thing, a story.”

If you’re interested in learning about international relations through science fiction and a visceral hands-on project with emerging technology, consider enrolling in POLS 4375: Science Fiction and International Relations.

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[1] Weldes, Jutta. 2003, “Popular Culture, Science Fiction, and World Politics." Chapter 1 in To Seek Out New Worlds: Exploring Links between Science Fiction and World Politics, ed. Jutta Weldes. Palgrave Macmillan.