On Democratizing Magic

On Democratizing Magic     

 

I propose ‘democratizing magic’ as a trope fit for several genres: superheroes, fantasy, science fiction. A story with this trope subverts and transforms its genre. A story democratizes magic this way:

1. There are magical superpowers, poorly understood, which a few wield to dominate the many. The superpowered fight among themselves, with collateral damage; more oppression for the normals.

2. A low-powered superhero, alienated by low rank, teams up with rich and/or smart normals to investigate the science of superpowers.

3. Montage sequence of labs, experiments, chalkboard scribblings, an ‘aha!’ moment, gizmos and tests. The team solves the superpower riddle through the power of technobabble.

4. They invent super-tech, which can give anybody superpowers. These superpowers include strength, invulnerability, shields, flight, levitation, telekinesis, telepathy, super-senses, and healing touch.

5. They finance mass-production of super-tech. It sells well. When the superheros and supervillains hear about this, they don’t like it. Only they, the elite, should have superpowers, for if everyone has superpowers, then they aren’t “super”. They stop their endless internal quarrels to focus on their real enemies: the People.

6. Conflict! Pow! Zap! At first the People lose ground, then they master their new powers, and push back.

7. Victory for the good guys! Superpower to the People!

8. A supervillain darkly hints that now that everyone has the powers, their troubles have just begun... cue the sequel teaser trailer!

          An example of a story democratizing magic is “The Psychohistorical Crisis”, a science-fiction novel by Donald Kingsbury. It is a tribute to Asimov’s “Foundation” trilogy. In the Foundation galaxy, the scientist Hari Seldon writes down the equations of “psychohistory”, a deterministic science of historical prediction. These equations have a flaw: Seldon’s Paradox, which states that any psychohistorical prediction, if known by the population being predicted, sets into motion psychohistorical forces that negate the prediction. The psychohistorians solve Seldon’s paradox by making psychohistory a cult secret.

          In Kingsbury’s tribute novel, the psychohistorians have long been in charge. This makes psychohistory itself the source of power; so inevitably forces arose, seeking to discover psychohistory’s secret equations. The outcast rebel psychohistorian Eron Osa finds a mentor, under whose protection he reformulates psychohistory as a probabilistic science of negotiation, knowable to all, and beneficial to all who know it. Seldon’s equations leak, galactic order starts to unravel, and Eron Osa challenges the psychohistorical old guard to a prediction contest. In the contest, the old methods predict inevitable galactic catastrophe. The book hints that the new methods will predict a galactic Golden Age for all who use its methods. There the book ends, on the cusp of psychohistory getting democratized.

          I would like to read many more stories democratizing magic. I think that the times call for such stories.

          For instance, if J.K.Rowling wanted to democratize Hogwarts magic, Hermoine’s the Witch to do it.

          Or in the Star Wars universe; I propose “Force of the People”. In it, midichlorians do indeed give you Force powers. A Jedi trainee runaway falls in with group of outcasts. They clone vats full of his midichlorians, and sell Force shots. The Jedi and the Sith hear of this, and don’t like it. Their Force troops advance at first, but then are pushed off-planet by the Force of the People. A Death Star shoots at the planet, whose collectively-raised Force Shield catches the blast and bounces it back at the Death Star, vaporizing it.

          Or in any superhero universe. Use your own characters. I envision a comic; its rebel low-rank superhero is Working Joe; he teams up with supervillain Dr. Diablo and tycoon Big Boss. Their respective superpowers are, respectively, super-productivity, evil-genius smarts, and tons of money. They invent and market the Adeledicnander Transmodulator, which gives its wearer Working Joe’s civilian superpowers. Their motives are varied. Big Boss is in it for the money; Dr. Diablo wants revenge on both superheros and supervillains; and Working Joe is in it because it’s the right thing to do. Each of them thinks the other two’s motivations are crazy, but none the less they cooperate enough to found the Transmodulator Corporation.

All of these formulas leave room for sequels. What happens to a world when everyone has superpowers? Law, politics, money, and customs; all must change. Any sequel exploring these will be a metaphor for our own struggles with technological change.

So the sequel world will not be in the same genre. No longer will a lone vigilante save the day: instead it will be a super-policier, with super-cops taking down super-crooks; then the super-judge must make a super-ruling setting a super-precedent.

Or it can be a super-worker’s stuggle. He can fly to work, then fly to the store, but the work doesn’t pay enough for what he wants from the store. So he joins a super-union, they have a super-strike, and after super-struggle, they get a super-raise. 

Or it can be a super-rom-com. Super-he gets super-klutzy courting super-she. After super-hijinks, the lovers reach super-bliss.

There are many other possibilities. The power to lift weights or fly or heal by touch won’t solve life’s problems; it’ll just raise the stakes.