At Your Service, Mr. Underhill
I love used book stores, simply because you can find little lost gems. Case in point: recently, at local Tucson uberusedbookstore, Bookmans, I found a copy of Jack Williamson’s The Humanoid Touch, a 1980 sequel to his classic Golden Age SF novel, The Humanoids (first serialized in Astounding Stories in 1948). So far, it’s a great little novel, filled with the usual Jack Williamson combination of fun and thoughtfulness. The setting is human, but deeply alien at the same time. All in all, it’s promising to be one of those lost little gems that I will cherish.
It also got me thinking about religion, specifically Christianity, and certain forms of same. It struck me that there are versions of Christianity out there that give us the Humanoid promise. Williamson gives us a good reason to be terrified of it.
Let me explain that, eh?
Long before we learned to fear Skynet, there were the Humanoids. The creation of a grief-stricken man, they are sleek, black androids designed to serve man. Their Prime Directive is simple: Protect Man. At any cost. What follows is a dark, depressing meditation on what follows from that. The Humanoids is not a novel of hope, but of warning. The Humanoids, see, are really good at what they do. And dedicated. Relentless, one might even say. Where they show up, it starts out hopeful: they are so useful, doing all those annoying tasks that fill our days. Then the other shoe drops: alcohol, taken way because it is dangerous. People kept from running or doing sports, because they are dangerous. Kept out of the kitchen — the hot stoves and all are dangerous! Even sex is dangerous — why, some people can have heart attacks! The Humanoids will happily play chess with you — but will always let you win, because losing would make you unhappy. But wait, you say, the people must get angry and sad and depressed. The Humanoids notice this, and have answers. Drugs, to dope people into cowish content. Brain surgery. Euthanasia, for those who won’t submit.
If you want a taste of it all, you can go and listen to the old Dimension X episode that dramatized “With Folded Hands,” the short story that chronicles the creator’s last stand against his creations. It’s one of my favorite episodes of Dimension X.
The Humanoids promise an end to pain and suffering, to strife, to striving, to everything that can cause unhappiness. Sound familiar? We’ve all heard it: the end of pain and suffering, the promise of eternal happiness and bliss! Just give everything into the hands of Jesus, and all will be taken care of. You’re only need is to act according to his plan. To not follow his prescription brings suffering, horror, and the threat of eternal damnation.
The Humanoids illustrates why I find so many forms of Christianity not merely wrong, but downright scary. The promise is too good, and hides something dark: a denial of humanity. We all suffer. We all have our moments when we desperately want that to end. But it’s the price we pay for something much greater — the wonder and joy of being alive, of striving to build and learn and understand and love, of being simply and fully human. We may not like losing a game of chess, but we can love the struggle to win, to understand the game better. When we beat a good opponent, it feels good. When we lose, we can admire the skillful play of our competitor.
To be fair, even the most, er, Humanoidish of Christians recognizes this on some level. This life is a test, a vale of tears, we are told, to prepare us for the next life. In this life is struggle and the possibility of pain. But what they don’t realize is that the promised reward — that eternal bliss — means giving up our humanity. It’s not an idea that comforts me. It just downright disturbs me. I’ll take the messy world, and the possibility and reality of some pain and suffering, and stay human.
(I’ll let y’all know how The Humanoid Touch turns out. It really is a rippin’ good yarn so far…)
