“And yet, the most brilliant culture of all, the one that inventedus, seems to have rejected this entire way of looking at the world.”
Daneel Olivaw stood again at the highest balcony of Eos Base, atop a towering cliff, from which a bright galactic pinwheel could be seen, both overhead and reflected off the perfectly smooth surface of a frozen metal lake. The twin images were so exact that it could be hard to distinguish illusion from reality. As if it mattered.
“You are referring to the Transition Age,” he answered. “When people like Susan Calvin and Revere Wu created the first robots, starships, and many other wonders. It was an era of unprecedented ingenuity, Zun. And yes, they came up with a completely different way of viewing the issue of information-as-poison.
“Some called their approach the Maturity Principle. A belief that children can be brought up with just the right combination of trust and skepticism-a mix of tolerance and healthy suspicion-so that any new or foreign idea could then be evaluated on its own merits. The bad parts rejected. The good parts safely incorporated into ever-growing wisdom. Truth might then be won, not by dogma, but by remaining open to a wide universe of possibilities.”
“Fascinating, Daneel. If such a method ever proved valid, it would have staggering implications. There would be no inherent limit to the exploration or growth of human souls.”
Zun paused for a moment. “So tell me. Did the sages of that era seriously believe that vast numbers of individual human beings could reliably accomplish this trick?”
“They did, and even based their education methods on it. Indeed, the approach apparently worked for a while, by correcting each other’s mistakes in a give-and-take of cheerful debate. The period you refer to is said to have been marvelous. I regret having been assembled too late to meet Susan Calvin and other great ones of that era.”
“Alas, Daneel, no operational robot dates from that far back. You are among the oldest. Yet your fabrication came two hundred years after the Golden Age collapsed amid riots, terrorism, and despair.”
Daneel turned to look at Zun. Despite the hard vacuum and radioactivity of their surroundings, his understudy appeared much like a rugged young human, a member of the gentry class, outfitted for a camping trip on some bucolic imperial world.
“Even that description understates the situation, Zun. At the time I was created, Earthlings had already retreated from chaos into hideously cramped metal cities, cowering away from the light. And their Spacer cousins were hardly any more sane, falling into an unstoppable spiral of decadence and decay. It must have taken enormous traumas to bring about such a radical change in attitude from Susan Calvin’s era of expansive optimism.”
“Was there still some acceptance of the Maturity Principle, during the period when you worked with the human detective, Elijah Baley?”
Daneel indicatedno with a tilt of his head.
“That belief had fallen into disrepute, except among a minority of nonconformists and philosophers. For the rest, uniformity and distrust became central themes. One strong similarity between Spacer and Earth cultures was their rejection of the openness that characterized the earlier Transition Age. Both societies returned to an older way of viewing ideas. With suspicion.
“They became convinced-as we are today-that human brains are vulnerable hosts, often subject to invasion by parasitic concepts…like the way a virus takes over a living cell.”
“How ironic. Both cultures were more alike than they realized.”
“Correct, Zun. Yet, because of that shared suspicion, they nearly annihilated each other. I recall how Giskard and I debated this problem, over and over. We concluded that the vastness of space might offer a solution, if only we could see humanity dispersed to the stars, instead of crammed elbow to elbow. Once they were scattered widely, there would be less risk of some spark igniting a conflagration and killing off the whole race.
“It took some drastic measures to get them moving again. But once the diaspora began in earnest, humans filled the galaxy more quickly than we ever expected! During that time of rapid expansion they created so many subcultures…and to our dismay soon these started rubbing against each other, fighting brutal little wars. You can see why the only solution, from a Zeroth Law perspective, was to create a new, uniform galactic culture that might bring an age of peace. Tolerance became much easier, once everyone was alike.”
“But sameness wasn’t the whole answer!” Zun commented. “You also had to invent new techniques for keeping a lid on things.”
Daneel agreed.
“We incorporated methods that Hari Seldon would later calldamping systems, to keep galactic society from spinning into chaos. Some of the best ones were first suggested long ago by my friend Giskard. Their effectiveness lasted for two hundred human generations…though now they appear to be growing obsolete. Hence our current crisis.”
Zun accepted this with a nod. But he wanted to return to the topic of dangerous ideas.
“I wonder…might both Spacer and Earth cultures have had good reason to dread cultural contamination~ After all,something caused Earth’s billions to frantically eliminate all of their diversity and cower together in tomblike cities. And why would intelligent Solarians choose their bizarre lifestyle-sitting with folded hands and asking robot servants to live their lives for them~ Could both syndromes have been caused by…an infection?”
“Your supposition is excellent, Zun. Clearly an illness of some sort was at work. Even centuries later, after Giskard helped Elijah Baley persuade some Earthlings to emerge from their metal wombs and settle a few new planets, the malady only mutated and followed them.”
“I recall hearing about that. You and Giskard witnessed something peculiar on several colony worlds. Settlers obsessed unwholesomely on the homeworld. They were unable to let go of Earth as a sacred-spiritual icon.”
“An obstinate mental addiction, preventing them from moving on to new horizons. Giskard concluded that we had no choice, under the Zeroth Law. Only by rendering Earth uninhabitable could the intense fixation be broken and the bulk of its population be forced to emigrate. Only then would humanity’s true conquest of the galaxy commence with vigor.”
While Daneel lapsed into silence, Zun pondered the chilly vista alongside his mentor. He held back for a time, as if uncertain how to phrase the next question.
“And yet…so much of what we’ve discussed depends on one assumption.”
“What assumption, Zun?”
“That the great ones of the Transition Age-Susan Calvin and the others-werewrong, and not merely unlucky.”
For a second time, Daneel turned and regarded the junior Type-Alpha robot.
“Have we not seen, again and again, what catastrophic events occur when some so-called renaissance cuts away every assumption and postulate, casting millions adrift without core traditions to hold on to? Remember, Zun. Our foremost dedication is no longer to individual human lives, but to achieving the greatest good for humanity as a whole. Across millennia of service, I have witnessed ideas become lethal more often than I can relate.”
“Still, Daneel, have you considered whether this mightnot be totally intrinsic to human nature? Perhaps it is because of some factor or situation that arose late in the Transition Age! Maybe the Maturity Principle once had validity…until something new and disruptive interfered with its functioning. Something insidious that has lingered with us ever since.”