Jonathan Wolfe

Eng. 529

The Diamond Age: Cracked and Polished

            Social scientists often mark periods of human history with the term “age”, likening the development of all humanity to the growth of a single person, progressing through the different stages of life.  In historical terms, different ages often describe technological advances, such as the use of stone, bronze, and iron; or a significant socio-economic and political characteristic as with “The Dark Ages”, "The Age of Enlightenment", or "The Golden Age of Islam”. The use of the word “age” is a convenient way for historians to measure broad periods of time and evaluate them in terms of human progress, or lack thereof.  The “Space Age” will forever be epitomized by the famous moonwalk: “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”  The term “Gilded Age”, coined by Mark Twain and Charles Dudley Warner in their novel The Gilded Age: A Tale of Today (1873), was used by social critics of the time to shed light on the moral hypocrisy of late 19^th century culture: a culture in which the upper class, grown absurdly rich as a result of the industrial revolution, justified their wealth by claiming their own superiority.  On the surface, the technological advances of the “Gilded Age” seemed to shine like gold, but the harsh realities of the poor cracked through the façade of prosperity, proving that the worth of an age cannot be weighed in strictly technological terms. 

So how do we measure the value of an “age”?  by moral standards, technological standards, or both?  Well, we can start by reading Neal Stephenson’s futuristic novel, The Diamond Age, where technology and morality are placed under the proverbial microscope, uncovering a dazzling and dynamic tale about the nature of human progress.  Set late in the 21^st century, The Diamond Age describes a world in which nanotechnology has truly come of age: microscopic machines called matter compilers are used by human beings to make everything from food to weapons to…you guessed it…diamonds.  Human beings have everything they seemingly need, but this is no Utopia.  The world is divided by phyles, or tribes, bound by the same international law, but with hidden and not so hidden animosity and mistrust toward one another.  The main phyles described in the novel closely resemble the people of two notable historical epochs; the neo-Victorians, an aristocratic group with high morals, but repressed desires; and The Han, a Chinese/ Confucian society that has achieved order but not freedom. 

By juxtaposing old fashioned culture and value systems with mind boggling technological advancement, Stephenson shows how morality is often out of sync with technology.  In the world that Stephenson has created, people are still struggling to find an ethical system that will fit with their technological system, and visa versa.  Not surprisingly, the Han and the neo-Victorians have differing ideas about the role that technology should play within a culture. The neo-Victorians are proponents of “Feed” technology, and supply the world with matter compilers, which make all the other phyles dependent upon them.  As in the post-colonial age, when the west ceased to maintain direct military control, but still exerted financial control over its formerly occupied territories, the neo-Victorians of the Diamond Age maintain control by the fact that they not only control the “Feed”, but are also the ones to have invented it.  The Celestial Empire, a subgroup of the Han, seek independence from the technology and culture of the neo-Victorians, desiring to create their own technology which will more accurately reflect Chinese cultural traditions, rooted in both Confucianism and Taoism.

            Whereas The Celestial Empire suffers from a lack of technological freedom, the neo-Victorians suffer from a lack of moral freedom.  They are so caught up in preserving their old values that their society has begun to go stale; which brings us to the main plot of the book.  In order to shake up the moral stagnation of neo-Victorian society, an “Equity Lord” by the name of Lord Alexander Chung-Sik Finkle McGraw (try saying that ten times really fast), commissions John Percival Hackworth, an engineer, to design a “smart” book for his granddaughter Elizabeth, that will introduce a subversive element into the morally and intellectually stagnant culture of the upper class.  When this book, called “A Young Lady’s Illustrated Primer”, inadvertently winds up in the hands of a poor child named Nell, both her world, and the world at large, become profoundly altered; a testament to the power of knowledge and education.  The “Primer” is no ordinary book, even by “Diamond Age” standards. The Primer is a “smart” book, in the sense that it recreates Nell’s difficult life experiences as a neglected and abused child, and teaches her how to overcome the odds.  Nell participates in the book in a kind of virtual reality with a “ractor”, a futuristic actor, or in this case, actress named Miranda, who plays different parts from a distance, and who Nell is not consciously aware of.  In the Primer, Nell is a princess who has been locked up in a DarkCastle with her brother Harv, searching for ways to escape. As Nell becomes more educated, and also faces more difficult real life struggles, the Primer presents more sophisticated challenges of both practical and abstract nature.  Unlike the one dimensional, “didactic”, literature of the “best schools” in the upper class, the Primer shows the darker, more complicated aspects of life.  

The story of the Primer in many ways parallels the structure of the novel itself, which becomes noticeably more complicated and disturbing in the latter half of the book.  As Nell becomes more like the neo-Victorians, admitted to an upper class school at the secret behest of Finkle-McGraw, Hackworth’s world completely falls apart.  His reversal of fortune, precipitated by his own moral hypocrisy in illegally copying the Primer with the intention of giving it to his own daughter Fiona, becomes most apparent as he serves out his ten year punishment in a semi-conscious state having orgies with other semi-conscious people called “Drummers”; a somewhat symbolic representation of the primal sexual and creative desire.  Hackworth enters a moral no man’s land after his sentence is completed, and ethical lines are blurred as he is judged by his wife and family for committing adultery.  Hackworth’s tale could be a tale told by the Primer, as he is a character whose experience defies moral absolutes.  By the social codes of his own society, Hackworth was wrong to copy the Primer; but are parents ever wrong for trying to provide the best education for their children?  And then of course there’s his ten year punishment, which seems to meet all the criteria for cruel, unusual and more.  Is this kind of strange torture consistent with Confucian values?  Hackworth is a living example of what Nell begins to discover as she starts to really think for herself: that when it’s all said and done, we need to be our own judges for what is right, what is wrong, what is good, and what is bad.  When we deconstruct our own ethical positions, we see the face of history and culture, but when we reconstruct these same positions, we see a reflection of ourselves.   Sooner or later, we must take responsibility for who we are, what we believe, and how we behave.  On the other hand, our values are only as good as those living, breathing, human beings who have taught them to us.  Morality can often be pondered in the abstract, but it takes teachers, parents, family, and community, to really shape a person’s mind and heart.  As Nell searchers for Miranda, her teacher and mother, we are reminded that there is a human form behind every last bit of technology, and that there is nothing more moral than love.