In Math Without Numbers, author Milo Beckman wrote the following about abstract math: “we don’t have to constrain ourselves to this arbitrary world we happen to live in.” Beckman, a mathematician and über-genius, likens math to a language: a way of describing the world, communicating ideas, and solving problems. Abstract math is a way more technically minded people (read: nerds) hypothesize, imagine, and dream.
Many people think abstract math is a frivolous waste of time because it doesn’t take place in the real world. I’ve heard the same arguments made about fiction. Great art is an end in itself. But if that doesn’t convince you, here’s why it’s key to bettering ourselves and our societies.
Thought experiments
Science fiction sparked the imagination of countless inventors and entrepreneurs, including Elon. The genre goes beyond inspiring us to build more and better things: science fiction, and fiction in general, allows us to consider and experience different places, perspectives, and realities. While transporting us to an alternate setting, fiction simultaneously elicits parallels to where and how we live.
For example, Dune‘s futuristic backdrop is merely a setting for a political thriller and social commentary on technology’s impact and environmental destruction. Every time we consume fiction, we connect it to what we feel and experience in the real world. Like abstract math, we’re not constrained to one particular time, place, or circumstance when we learn from fiction. For example, you could link ATLA’s Fire Nation to Imperial Japan, modern-day America, or even Ancient Sparta. Grappling with these issues without our current prejudices paradoxically gives us a more objective view on important issues like oppression and power.
Without setting the story in a real time or place, we are forced to connect the dots ourselves and think: What’s good or bad about this society? How is it similar to the world I live in?
And the best part is, it happens almost unconsciously. Good fiction hits us emotionally and makes these links almost effortless. We recognize feelings we have about certain issues more than conscious thoughts we have about them. It’s proven that feeling a certain way evokes memories or thoughts you’ve had that are associated with that same emotion.
For example, readers of The Power by Naomi Alderman will be confronted with an oppressive matriarchal thought experiment: what would it look like if men became the oppressed group in society? Readers will experience emotional reactions to gender-based violence and oppression that they won’t get from reading about feminism in the news or in non-fiction books.
Good fiction elicits a feeling that we can’t necessarily describe in words. Often times, we can tell something is wrong, but we can’t exactly articulate why: why does reading about militaristic women taking control feel wrong? What’s wrong with characters in Dune sacrificing everything for the mysterious resource called spice? What makes us feel uneasy about the social inequity in Ba Sing Se?
Feelings in Film and Fiction
By juxtaposing our real, human feelings with societal norms, we can better see how the latter should improve its laws and conventions. For example, in Bajrangi Bhaijaan, an Indian man struggles to bring a lost Pakistani girl home. In doing so, he battles interpersonal, societal, and governmental obstacles, including the hostile border between the two nations. We viewers empathize intensely with the little girl’s desire to get back with her family; we see that the people stopping Bajrangi from doing so are acting immorally. However, the soldiers, government officials, and ordinary citizens believe they’re doing the right thing.
Because of prejudice, a sense of duty, or sheer ignorance many people on both sides of the border regard the hostile relationship between the two countries as immutable. It’s not even viewed as a bad thing. However, this story showed that there is something deeply troubling about a relationship between two nations that can’t even work together to bring a six-year-old home. In this case, the right thing to do was contrary to what the institutions legally allowed: fiction often reminds us that it takes awhile for laws and norms to catch up with what’s good as individuals.
People often dismiss fiction as abstraction, as daydreaming, as useless—as not solving “real world” issues. But these hypothetical scenarios help us break out of our old thinking patterns. They foster empathy. They can be a sign of what’s to come. In any case, a good story emotionally connects us to real-world issues—and inspires us to do something about them.
This Week’s Top 3
- Bongo Flava music 🇹🇿 – straight outta Tanzania, this genre is great for some summer beats
- The Immortals of Meluha 🔱 – a really cool novel about Shiva that has both Percy Jackson energy and ATLA themes. Would recommend from anyone aged eight to eighty.
- skippy haha 👕 – found this blog because I wanted a t-shirt the author was selling. The site explains some context behind the vintage tees, but it hasn’t been updated in awhile
One response to “12. This is Your Brain on Fiction”
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