Out Of the Silent Planet

What is 70 years old and sounds like it was written yesterday? It’s a space novel that describes two power players of this age as if the writer had known them personally. It’s scary and fascinating and hopeful – It’s Out Of The Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis.

While space stories usually don’t make it onto my pile of books or my queue of movies, the three books in Lewis’ space trilogy are among my favorite – beautiful, brilliant, and as we shall see, highly politically relevant.

There are three main characters in Silent Planet, the opening of the trilogy, which plays in 1950’s England. Weston, a brilliant, narcissistic scientist; Devine, a gullible and greedy businessman; and Ransom, an unsuspecting philologist who finds himself kidnapped and used as ransom (yeah) by the other two. Weston is looking for a way to immortalize the history of man, and is convinced that reaching the legendary Malacandra – the moon – is the first step of mankind to reach this goal. He gets Devine and his wealth and influence on board by telling him about the invaluable natural resources found on Malacandra. They kidnap Ransom, in case the supposed savage population of Malacandra would require a human sacrifice.

Written 70 years ago, this story reads ominously like current news. A brilliant mind, egocentric and set on advancing mankind beyond the bounds of this earth. A ruthless and powerful bully set to increase his own fortune and engrave his name into history. And an ordinary man, representing ordinary men and women of this world, used as a disposable guinea pig for the experiments of grandeur of two power hungry men. If you haven’t thought of Elon Musk, Donald Trump and yourself until now, well… good for you for filling your time with things other than the news!

How did C.S. Lewis come up with such striking resemblance of two global players over half a century before they would rise to power, and, for a time, even team up? It’s because alliances like we saw between Musk and Trump are nothing new. They represent the Empire – this epitome of human desire to rule outside of and beyond God.

Empires, throughout history and regardless of geographical or religious affiliation, have striking similarities to each other. They have one ruler who is being worshipped almost like a God. They accumulate their power and wealth on the backs of slaves, immigrants, or other providers of “cheap work”. They despise forms of government that rely on collaboration, compromise, or diversity. And they always believe their particular empire to last forever.

Musk recently said, “The greatest weakness of Western civilization is empathy”. If this statement sounds vaguely familiar to you, it is because it’s nearly identical with Nietzsche’s criticism on Christianity. Nietzsche was convinced that Christianity was the biggest threat to our world exactly because it promotes empathy, compassion, and humility. And it is no coincidence that the Christians who align themselves heavily with Trump no longer display any of those virtues today.

Musk and Nietzsche put themselves right in line with emperors past, whose biggest fears always were to be betrayed by people they trusted – advisors, spouses, sons, brothers. The way an emperor keeps his head is to distrust everybody, feel empathy for nobody, box his way to the top and shy away from nothing to stay there. And while the choice of weapons or strategies change from century to century, the goals and even methods stay much the same. Win at all costs. Show no weakness (also known as mercy, empathy, or kindness). Demand loyalty. Paint the world in black and white, us and them, friends and enemies.

In certain ways one could say Nietzsche was correct when he said that Christianity weakens the “progress” of mankind. Maybe, without Christ, we would already have flags planted on Mars, created a one world currency or even eradicated so-called “weak” forms of humanity. But the question is not how fast we progress as a species, but what direction we’re going. What is the actual goal of our species?

Weston is C.S. Lewis’ fictional answer to Nietzsche’s idea of the Übermensch. Once rid of religious ethics, the modern man is himself the last authority on what is right. Therefore, any means man considers necessary to reach his goals are now justified, as long as they get the job done. For Weston in the novel, the goal was the survival of our species (a Darwinist model, and in some ways similar to what Musk has expressed). For Nietzsche, the goal is not survival, but the overcoming of our human condition and the forging of a more powerful being than our current form of humanity – the Übermensch.

And for Ransom, our third player in the book? He is less concerned about humanity’s fate as he is about what’s right in front of him. When meeting the inhabitants of Malacandra, he displays curiosity, humility and kindness. Which is why he is also able to perceive Oyarsa, the spiritual being that holds everything together. Ransom stands for Lewis’ conviction that real progress cannot be merely biological or technological, it also needs to be ethical. And whenever our ethics seem to stand in the way of progress, we are urged to step back and assess what’s in front of us with curiosity, humility and kindness.

Letting go of control, rejecting power and influence, and living curious, playful and merciful – C.S. Lewis knew it was the antidote to what threatens this world. Yes, there are risks, and there is always a price for not trampling over those weaker than us. And yes, maybe this kind of life hinders the development of an Übermensch – thank God, if you ask me.

I’d much rather stay in the weak and messy reality that is our human condition, because there I discover what makes us humans beautiful: our ability to choose kindness over control, humility over victory, and love over blind progress.