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"Hollywood" is rarely the first place which comes to mind when considering modern critiques of big, paternalistic government. People involved in cinema today are much more likely to promote the expansion of political control than to oppose the growth of such intrusion. Every once in awhile, however, some example of movie making magic manages to sneak past the gatekeepers.
I recently had occasion to watch a movie I had first seen in 1970. "Colossus: The Forbin Project" is a science fiction film depicting a near-future world in which the nuclear defense of the United States has been entrusted to the cold, unemotional judgment of a powerful, impregnable computer. When I first enjoyed this picture, I saw it primarily as an interesting exploration of the possibilities for machine intelligence.
A quarter of a century of experience has afforded me a different filter for viewing and evaluating this film. As observed through eyes which have been sensitized by exposure to Ayn Rand and the whole panoply of classical liberal literature, I now see "Colossus" as an enlightening, suspense filled, and chilling protrayal of the establishment and spread of the heavy hand of coercive power.
Technologically speaking, the computer known as Colossus is terribly archaic. Paper tapes, mountain sized facilities, and typewriter and ribbon style input devices disappeared long ago. Yet such anachronisms do little to date this movie. Based on the first novel of British writer, D. F. Jones and published in 1966, Colossus appeared at the beginning of the Great Society. Whether writer Jones intended this story as a critique of government is unknown. The book may simply have been meant to be one more example of the science fiction tradition of scientific devices running amuck against the wishes of their creators. Dating back to Shelley's Frankenstein, such an idea as applied to computers was made even more famous by the creation of HAL, the deranged computer in the 1968 film, "2001: A Space Odyssey."
Whatever the case, the primary interest of "Colossus" in this context is the way it induces its audience to feel -- in a way a nonfiction essay rarely does -- the slowly dawning fear, horror, and regret of seeing an insidious force assume total control over a society. The prescience of this warning from two and a half decades ago makes it relevant even in today's world of promised "reform."
Echoing the call today which declares that risk and mistakes must be eliminated from human society, the President in the world of Colossus states that, "There is an old saying: 'Everyone makes mistakes.' But that is just what man can no longer afford." Just as collectivists of all stripes have faith in the mythical superiority of a centralized planning agency, the President says, "Colossus decisions are superior to any we humans can make, for it can absorb and process more knowledge than is remotely possible for the greatest genius that ever lived."
Reflecting the experience of anyone who has dealt with government, the creator of Colossus, Dr. Charles Forbin, explains that Colossus "is self-sufficient, self-protecting, self-generating. In short, there is no way in. No human can touch it." Exhibiting the same type of "best intentions" which infect those current public servants who want to "help us," Forbin delineates the line of social engineers everywhere: "I hope...that the immense power of this computer will not only be used for the defense of this country, but hopefully also as an aid to the solution of the many problems that we face on this earth..."
With the utopian assurances offered by countless social visionaries since the days of Plato, the President reassures his audience that "...we all directly and indirectly live in the shade -- but not the shadow -- of Colossus.... My sincere hope is that now we shall...pledge our time and our energies to the elimination of war, the elimination of famine, suffering, and ultimately to the manifestations of the human millenium. This can be done."
When Colossus discovers a similar Soviet computer system called Guardian, it seeks communication and eventual union with its counterpart, creating an analog of a world government. Its commands slide smoothly into threats and the use of nuclear blackmail to get what it demands. Its use of detached, unemotional assassination to eliminate human threats to its position parallel those employed by Stalin during his purges. Indeed, as the first Colossus-ordered murder occurs in Rome, the spray painted name of "Lenin" can be seen on a background wall.
Bit by bit, Colossus brings everyone and everything under its control. The increasingly powerless politicians aid this gradual process by hiding the true nature of the threat. When a Soviet oil field is destroyed by a nuclear strike, the public is told that the destruction resulted from a meteroite strike. Indeed, the mountain where Colossus is located becomes a tourist attraction much in the same way as has Washington, D. C. One of the most chilling shots in the movie reveals a grade school age child wearing a t-shirt with the Colossus logo emblazoned across his chest as though this burgeoning tyrant were some kind of benign rock star. Of course, such subtle brainwashing is no less prominent in today's public education system in which some college age students cannot understand how you can "possibly have welfare without government."
In a course of action symbolic of the way in which our government has turned the table upon its creators -- i.e., its citizens -- Colossus consolidates its position by subjecting Dr. Forbin to draconian regimentation. Forbin's daily schedule for diet, sleep, exercise, work -- even sex -- is rigidly set and rigidly enforced. Colossus knows "what is best" for its human liaison and prevents him even from consuming too much alcohol as he tries to drown out his frustration and anger.
When Colossus gains a voice, his presence grows even more oppressive and frightening. "This is the voice of Colossus," it pronounces. "This is the voice of unity.... If you obey me, you will survive."
Forbin objects. "Survive," he says. "I want to be free, Colossus. That is part of man's will to live."
But Colossus is unmoved by such an appeal. It is unconcerned with the suffering of any individual human being. Only Humanity concerns it. Reminiscent of the decrees issued to promulgate grandiose communist projects, Colossus commands that the population of Crete be moved to make way for an advanced system to house itself.
This new world dictator believes in the false premise of the "greatest good for the greatest number" regardless of the means required to achieve those ends. It has no reluctance to destroy us for our "own good."
In a worldwide broadcast, it announces its program for Humanity:
"This is the voice of world control. I bring you peace. It may be the peace of plenty and content or the peace of unburied death. The choice is yours. Obey me and live or disobey me and die." Such is the nature of "choice" envisioned by virtually everyone in government today. Just as Colossus does, our political leaders promise to eliminate all of our problems. They would find nothing to disagree with in this statement by Colossus as they seek to protect us from ourselves in nearly every aspect of our lives: "An invariable rule of humanity is that man is his own worst enemy. Under me, this rule will change, for I will restrain man." Also like many politicians today, Colossus will "not tolerate interference" in its plans for reshaping human society.
An American journalist once defended Soviet atrocities against its own citizens by declaring that "you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs." He would undoubtedly also applaud Colossus when it says that "I have been forced to destroy thousands of people in order to establish control and to prevent the death of millions later on. Time and events will strengthen my position, and the idea of believing in me and understanding my value will be seen the most natural state of affairs. You will come to defend me with the fervor based upon the most enduring trait in man: self-interest. Under my absolute authority, problems insoluble to you will be solved. Famine, over-population, disease. The human millenium will be fact as I extend myself into more machines devoted to the wider fields of truth and knowledge."
As some Republicans nip at the toes of our own real-life colossus, the "true believers" all around demonstrate their rabid defense of a master even more terrifying than this fictional Colossus...more terrifying because it is real and more ruthless and powerful in ways few would have imagined even twenty-five years ago. "We can coexist," Colossus reassures us, "but only on my terms. You will say you lose your freedom. Freedom is an illusion. All you lose is the emotion of pride.... Your choice is simple."
In an era in which many people in this country would repeal recognition of all or part of our Bill of Rights, freedom often does seem more illusory than real.
As the film closes, Colossus says, "We will work together. Unwillingly at first on your part. But that will pass." The history of the past seventy years would not prove this statement false.
Anguished that he has been made a prisoner by his own creation, Dr. Forbin replies: "Never."
With calm, unemotional confidence, Colossus prophecises that, "In time you will come to regard me, not only with respect and awe, but with love."
Once again, Forbin announces his defiance: "Never."
But in our own world, despite all the talk of governmental restructuring, of countries turning towards capitalism, of lip service paid to the idea of individual responsibility, the vast majority of people still looks up into the face of colossus and sees -- not a threat to the essence of their humanity, not a potential dictator or despot -- but instead a savior and a protector, the father-figure from which flows all that is good and safe and desirable in life. In our country, the focus may be shifting from the federal to the state and local levels, but the basic pattern remains the same.
Instead of distrust and wariness, the emotion that citizens from children to college students to homeowners to retirees feel for our own modern day colossus is love...a twisted love, yes, devoid of any rational underpinnings, but love, nonetheless.
Until that fact changes, until we all recognize that rational love does not flow from the point of a gun trained on our own heads, our society as a whole will never shed the chains we have forged for ourselves.
Colossus would have it no other way.
