What is Science Fiction?
This is a perennial question and it’s not really necessary to get a final answer to it, in my opinion, any more than it is necessary to come up with a comprehensive definition of the word “game” (one that doesn’t exclude baseball, Dungeons and Dragons, bridge or hide and seek). Nevertheless, it is worth a minute or two of consideration. Some of the definitions that have been used are:
1. SF is what SF editors buy
2. SF is what I’m pointing to when I point at something and say “That’s Science Fiction"
3. When science is so integral to the plot that the story falls apart without it, it’s a SF story.
4. That sort of fiction in which the author shows awareness of the nature and importance of the … scientific method, … of the great body of human knowledge already collected ..., and takes into account … the future effects on human beings of scientific method and scientific fact
Most of these are taken from a book called “Turning Points: Essays on the Art of Science Fiction” edited by Damon Knight (1977). Number 1 is attributed to Norman Spinrad, number 2 is an obvious generalization of number 1 (and I’m sure I’ve seen it used somewhere), number 3 is attributed to Theodore Sturgeon, and number 4 is Reginald Bretnor’s definition, paraphrased by Robert Heinlein.
I like definitions 3 and 4, but it’s important then to remember that the word “science” is being used in a broader way than might be expected. The science perhaps most often used in science fiction stories may be sociology, if “sociology” is taken to include history, economics, mob psychology, and combinations of the above. The next two would probably be physics/chemistry and biology. For me however, the most important point is the last part of definition number 4 “takes into account … the future effects on human beings.” A story which has all sorts of science in it, but which doesn’t have this science affect the people and society of the story (at least by implication) is not science fiction (although it may be sold as such) – it is something else, like a thriller, a fantasy, a satire, or an allegory.
This is best explained by example: every “Superman” story takes place in a universe in which everyone knows that there is a superpowered alien living in New York (sorry, I mean Metropolis). This knowledge has no implications, however. There is apparently no increased interest in the search for other intelligent life in the universe, or even some recognition that the world’s strategic balance is altered by Superman being an American. Thus, Superman is a fantasy. Similarly many spy thrillers deal with the chase for some super weapon or another, but with no thought to the implications of the mere existence of the weapon (Questions like “Once people know it is possible, how can we prevent duplication?” or “Even if the good guys get it, what will they do with it, and how will their use of it affect the world?” are never asked).
Meanwhile, in some satires, plausibility of the exaggerated world is sacrificed in order to heighten the humor (though, by my lights, the effectiveness of a story with a satirically exaggerated view of the world is heightened by making as much of the story as plausible as possible, once the satirical premise is assumed).
In the best SF, the reader is very nearly forced (by the author’s skill and self-consistency) to engage the brain, to pick out the background assumptions which are behind the plot, to see the connections between a strange new world (even if that world is called Earth) and our own, and to keep thinking about what will happen next, even after the story is done. It is this incitement to deep thought about a story and the issues it concerns that makes science fiction a potentially powerful teaching tool. For another view on why science fiction is a good idea for students, see this column from Infoworld magazine by Bob Lewis. For more information on how teachers can use Science Fiction, check out SF: Fact or Fancy - a handout I created for use at the 2001 Worldcon teacher's workshop of the same name.
