Future Narrative #12 - The Pacific Paradox

This week we share another story from our first 2021 Data and Design lab workshop. The 50 participants with interests in technology and travel, joining from Scotland and all over the world, shared their vision of travel in the coming decades framed by our three horizons approach. This story takes a dystopian look at a newly ordered society, divided by tech literates and non-literates in 2050 in the Pacific Islands.

Illustrated by Izzy Bunnell and written by MĂĄire Ryan.

The Pacific Paradox - Illustrated by Izzy Bunnell

When the Pacific Islands, following decades of rallied efforts between locals and international organisations staging appeal upon appeal, slipped silently beneath the water, most saw it as the beginning of the end. In many ways it was: families with a millennium of history grown from Tinian became rootless; profiting businesses in Mo’orea saw bankruptcy; natural science institutes in Maui were no more. Optimistic world leaders tried to put a positive spin on it: it was a collective disaster, yes, but the death toll was at zero. The inhabitants of the Islands had fled to various mainlands as soon as the flood levels became critical. Systems were already in place to ensure that new lives could be supported in their forging. Sure, the physical histories had been physically lost, but their essence could certainly be preserved in living memory. Tradition is sustained within the heart, one member of NATO asserted. This did not account of the hearts being broken, but it was the best they could do at short notice.

Revolution often occurs at the precipice of disaster. By 2050, fusion tech had plunged the energy sector into its newest age, in which energy had become limitless (and incredibly cheap). This transformative breakthrough was pivotal in the eradication of global poverty; the world no longer looked the same–alas–but it also functioned at a higher level. Naturally, tech played a huge role in this new order: developments skyrocketed as a result of the reduction in timely processes and the increase of social mobility ensured bright young minds could learn and excel once the shackles of economic disenfranchisement had been destroyed. The world was getting better.

Well, almost. Humans naturally crave order and so two distinct classes emerged (or returned, depending on who’s asking) to cleave society neatly in half. The 1st Class were individuals fully immersed in a hyper-connected world. Digitalised, data-fluent, sharing and optimising their output into advanced infrastructures. The “Techs” as they were often known, traversed the world (virtually and physically) through their proprietary access to unprecedented comforts and services. They chose to Adapt, and were rewarded handsomely for it. They worked hard, played the game, and enjoyed the rewards. The 2nd Class (“seconds”), on the other hand, had been wholly resistant to progress. They had clung to their privacy with the same energy they misused to protest their governments’ seemingly static attitude towards the (inevitable) sinking of the Pacific Islands. Rather than developing their understanding of the liberations that a digital lifestyle could afford them, they festered in their “rights”, opting out of the majority of most vital digital services. No ability to look further ahead than tomorrow, no willingness to embrace change. Their loss.

The seconds really needn’t have bothered themselves about the Pacific Islands, as it transpired. One of the (many) tech marvels that had become particularly ubiquitous was the realisation of the Underway: the ultra-speedy underwater tunnel network which was quickly (but carefully, using state-of-the-art materials) constructed across the globe. The system relied on individualised pods as “carriages”, to borrow a long-forgotten term, equipped with hugely high-tech interfaces and protected by an AI Angel. These miraculous bubbles zoomed between continents at sonic speeds, either surfacing at mainland ports or docking on remote, underwater workstations. You could even indulge in “podcations” (Techs-only, obviously) whereby you picked your submerged site and wiled away time cruising through the watery landmarks, before returning to your hotel for a five-star evening.

Sadly, the Pacific Island natives–many of them seconds, obviously–refused to embrace these developments in underwater travel, even though it now allowed them (if only they’d Adapt) to still access their ancestral lands. Much whining about how painful it would be to view their lands as claimed by the deep, much wailing for the black-winged petrel, the orange fruit dove, the wandering whistling duck. Stubborn. Persistent in clinging to the past. Convinced that touring the once-thriving Islands in their new location would be macabre. This softened, over time, particularly as memories of their homes began to grow fuzzy. The Islander-seconds could be found longing to visit once more, although the surrendering of hard-held beliefs (they still would not Adapt!) was an electric fence of incalculable height.

It took one set of eyes to spot the entrepreneurial opportunity as the Islander-seconds’ collective reserve began to fray. Coupled with the increasing issue of preservation–reports from high-up Techs conveyed issues with the degradation of the previously picture-perfect sites–there was an increasing demand for some sort of conservation initiative to be implemented. A “philanthropreneur” (his own invention) had his team monitor the Islander-seconds (naturally, for safety reasons, they were being Heard), isolating those most likely to turn. It took only a few weeks to form a work gang of those whose hearts sang most loudly to touch their home sands once again. In this way, seconds were deployed to maintain and operate the Islands. The added kick of seeing the seconds in action–Techs were, of course, operating an entirely separate existence–was the added bonus to investing in a trip to the newly-refurbished Pacific Islands resort. A true harmony was found through adaptivity and innovation. Unless you asked the seconds, but why would you? All they do is moan.

Provocation Questions

  1. How do you see this story perpetuating themes of class divides, colonialism, and access to the natural world?

  2. What details in it exist today?

  3. What details do you think are possible, or impossible?

Judith JacobsComment