Why Isaac Asimov's "Foundation" Is A Capitalist Hellscape

February 13^th, 2018

[Originally titled 'The Foundation of Technological Consumerism']

In Isaac Asimov’s “Foundation,” the eponymous society’s technological supremacy is their defining characteristic, marking them as ‘superior’ to the Galactic Empire and its “barbarous” former worlds (Asimov 69). Men of the Foundation are regarded as “magicians,” inspiring wonder, fear, and worship through their nuclear devices; technology is their power (142). However, this power lies not in the capabilities of the objects themselves, as instruments of attack or defense, but in their sheer novelty as material embodiments of alterity. This essay argues that nucleics are constructed as consumer objects within the text to reflect the real-world demand for, and consumption of, novel technology. The Foundation’s sale of nucleics is used to strengthen the elite’s control over the masses, symbolically suggesting that modern consumerism operates in a similar manner; while new technology may mark scientific advance, cyclical consumption of that technology makes one a participant in a system designed to further cement the unequal balance of power. This essay will demonstrate how the book’s technological nova (nucleics) are symbolically constructed as consumer products both within the text and outside it and how the trade of nucleics enacts and maintains consumerism, a plutocratic religion of control leading to a loss of personal autonomy and long-term happiness. The short story “Supertoys Last All Summer Long” by Brian Aldiss will be used as a means of comparison, as the text’s android nova demonstrate the trappings of technological production and consumption on an emotional level, in contrast to “Foundation’s” clinical macro-focus on the exploits of the elite.

Nucleics present themselves as symbolic of consumer products in that they are framed as objects of difference both within the text and by their very nature as technological nova. As Adam Roberts explains, the defining characteristic of any science fiction (SF) work is that it depicts concepts that do not exist in the real world; their novelty is derived from the fact that they are different (Roberts 14). SF technology realizes this idea physically by providing “a direct, material embodiment of alterity” (110). In Roberts view, this appeals directly to the sensibilities of readers, as “our lives are already surrounded by so many instances of near-miraculous technology,” such as “iPods, computers, TVs [and] mobile phones” (111). Our obsession with SF technology is derived from our real-world interest in (and desire to possess) new and exciting consumer technology. Lay users marvel at the Foundation’s spaceships, force-fields, and atom blasters just as they might marvel at the latest smartphone because all these objects perform incredible feats, evoking the same feeling of estrangement in that readers have absolutely no idea how they work.

Asimov writes this consumerist obsession with alterity directly into the text with his presentation of nucleics in their different forms: Sutt mentions “Automatic Super-Kleeno Nuclear Washing Machines” (Asimov 163), while Mallow adopts the role of a salesman, waxing poetic about nuclear “knives that won't require sharpening,” and “collapsible stoves [to] roast the toughest meats to the desired tenderness in two minutes,” (133). These are clear objects of difference, as they are able to preform technological feats impossible in the real world, but unlike normal SF technologies, Asimov deliberately writes them as household tools – knives, washing machines and stoves – suggesting they are representative of real-world consumer products. To reinforce this, he gives one the label of “Super-Kleeno,” drawing on marketing language common to the post-WWII economic boom in which he was writing: the first time almost all Americans could buy products in excessive amounts for novelty rather than need. By alluding to this though his characterization of nucleics, Asimov suggests that his textual recreation of the consumer-seller relationship is symbolic of the real one.

This continues in Mallow’s demonstration of a nuclear saw, in which Korellian officials fumble over each other in wonder and excitement (136). He says, “’Do you want to decrease the thickness of a sheet, smooth out an irregularity, remove corrosion? Watch!” (136). Mallow uses the rhetorical, boastful language of “high-pressure salesmanship” when using his nucleic device to frame himself as ‘seller,’ the Korellian’s as ‘buyers,’ and the nucleic device as consumer object (136). The Korellian’s expression of wonder at nuclear technology is repeated multiple times throughout the book, framing nucleics as incredible objects of alterity. This exact same phenomenon occurs in Supertoys Last All Summer Long, as half of the story is also framed as a demonstration, with David Swinton ‘selling’ the newest line of consumer synthetic life-forms – the text’s technological nova – to an audience of listeners, talking on and on about its elements of difference: its “intelligence” (Aldiss 2), its linkage of “computer circuitry with synthetic flesh” (3), its ability to cure “loneliness and isolation” (4). As with nucleics, the novum is framed as an object of difference both within the text and by its very nature as a technological novum. By the nature of the third-person narration in both Henry’s demonstration and Mallows, the reader is effectively in the same position as the fictional audience, marveling at the consumer product, indicating that the relationship those characters have with both novum is meant to symbolically parallel our real-world relationship with consumer products and the consequences of consuming them.

The elite of Foundation are able to cement their place in society through the sale of nucleics, as consumerism allows them to consulate their wealth and exert control over the masses. This is first seen in the fact that the Foundation maintains their control over Korell solely through the mass-production of nucleic goods rather than war or religion; this is because consumerism is a religion in itself. When Sutt insists on the necessity of religion, Mallow rebukes him, saying their power comes from the fact that they “bribe with little things, useless in war, but vital to prosperity and profits … it's still the little things in life that count … [Korell has] based her economy more and more upon the nuclear techniques which we have introduced and which only we can continue to supply” (Asimov 163). In this, Mallow freely admits that the sale of nucleics is for the purposes of control over the masses. His speech conveys a tone of superiority and ill intent in that he characterizes this process as “bribery,” painting the sale of nucleics as a process by which societies become willing and eager participants in an illicit affair: they bring nucleics into their homes, find wonder their alterity and convenience as “little things,” and engage in this cyclical economy of purchase until they become dependent on the consumption of those goods. This is an invisible, ideological method of control. As Mallow says, “I’m a Master Trader. Money is my religion” (149). Through money, he is able to control industrial worlds in much the same way the Foundation’s religion controlled the feudal worlds of the Four Kingdoms. In the advancement from feudalism to technological industry, the masses have merely traded one God for another: capitalism – the “god of profits,” as described by Sutt (150).

Control through nucleics is further seen in the fact that their sale allows the elite to further consolidate their own wealth and position in society. The traders Mallow and Ponyets individually collaborate with the Commodore from Korell and Pherl from Askone – both high-ranking political figures – in order to sell them goods which they might then sell to their people at exorbitant prices. In the case of Pherl, Ponyents uses nucleic technology to give him incredible wealth in the form of gold, then encourages him to bribe and force laws changing Askone’s current method of control, religion – described as being “for the masses” – to consumerism, suggesting that Pherl “educate [his] own people into the use of nucleics for their convenience and [his] own substantial profit” (133). This illustrates clearly that the sale of consumer products merely slaves “the masses” into helping the rich consolidate their own wealth, widening the gap between rich and poor. It also casts severe doubt on the inherent worth of technological advance in general, as the Foundation’s advancement has allowed them to realize transmutation: but it is immediately put to work for the purposes of bribery and corruption, enabling the rich to manipulate government to their own ends. The suggestion that Pherl “educate” his people into the use of consumer technology, casting aside religion, further reinforces the idea that consumerism is simply another instrument of the elite’s control. However, while nucleics do act as a symbolic representation for the truth of consumerism, this is merely one truth as conveyed through one book.

In “Supertoys Last All Summer Long,” the characters of the story occupy a similar role as the elite of “Foundation,” benefiting from the sale of their products and living on the “ritziest” city blocks, similar to the estates of the Commodore and Pherl (5). However, they are trapped in a continual cycle of production, producing numerous lines of synthetic lifeforms even though no character actually enjoys the presence of these beings: Monica Swinton adopts a surrogate android child, but the best she can say is that she “tried to love him” (1); Henry Swinton spends the story praising his company’s latest serving bot in its ability to banish “personal isolation” (5), promising additional models “of more advanced design,” (4) but when he takes it home to his wife, he regards it “dryly” (5). In “Foundation,” those selling nucleics merely see them as a means of control, with consumerism just a religion by another name; here, Monica and Henry value the alterity of the nova depicted in the same way that the reader does. They, like the masses of “Foundation,” believe these androids will make their lives better, so they further technological advancement, not to secure their own wealth or power (although this is a happy side-effect) but in hope of curing the loneliness they both feel. When the newest line of androids fails to bring them lasting happiness, they bring home another, just as Henry brings home the serving-bot despite Monica’s fundamental disconnection from her android son. The elite are active and suffering participants in their own system of production and consumption, suggesting consumerism is not merely an instrument, but a cultural ethos.

Ultimately, in their presentation as novel consumer products, both Aldiss’ synthetic beings and Asimov’s nucleics symbolize the idea that the advancement of technology is not a fundamental good, and that participating in any system that assumes so only causes one to be a slave to that system. As ‘technology,’ in a SF work, both novum exist as material embodiments of alterity, and both authors capitalize on this by characterizing them products to be sold, with characters like Mallow and Henry actively selling them to the reader in order to draw a direct connection to real-world consumer technology. In doing so, Asimov specifically is able to make a symbolic materialist statement about the nature of materialism itself, warning the audience to be consciously aware of how consumerism shapes their lives and their relationship with the act of purchase.

Works Cited

Aldiss, Brian. ENGL 208B Courseware. University of Waterloo Retail Services, 2018.

Asimov, Isaac. Foundation. Avon Books, 1973.

Roberts, Adam. Science Fiction The New Critical Idiom. Routledge, 2006.