Bryce's Domain

A blog of all things sci-fi -- books, board games, and whatever else is on the shelf.

The purpose of this blog is to have a little fun. It is NOT to start arguments. I don't profess to be an expert on sci-fi, nor do I aspire to become one. You are welcome to comment on any and all content you find here. If my opinion differs from yours, as far as I am concerned, it's all okay.

Posts will hopefully be regular based on the books I read and the games I get to the table, as well as whatever else strikes me as noteworthy.

***SPOILER ALERT***
Spoilers will appear here and are welcome.

essay

Why Science Fiction Needs More Technologies That Aren't Computers

Science fiction has become astonishingly good at imagining better computers. Faster processors, smarter artificial intelligence, more immersive interfaces, ubiquitous sensors, robots, implants, simulations, and networks can solve almost any narrative problem.

That success has created a weakness. Too much science fiction technology now begins from the assumption that the future is the present with more computation.

The physical world has many more design spaces than that.

Technology is older and broader than electronics

A technology is a repeatable way of using knowledge to change what people can do. Agriculture is technology. Writing is technology. Concrete is technology. Vaccination, fermentation, lenses, clocks, plumbing, selective breeding, sails, metallurgy, and public sanitation are technologies.

Computers are one spectacular branch.

Science fiction without computers can still be technologically dense if it takes materials, energy, biology, chemistry, mechanics, architecture, or ecology seriously.

Biology can replace entire categories of machinery

Living technology is one of the richest alternatives because organisms already perform functions engineers struggle to reproduce.

Plants harvest solar energy. Muscles turn chemical energy into movement. Nervous systems process signals. Immune systems detect threats. Fungi build networks through soil. Organisms heal, grow, reproduce, adapt, and assemble themselves from local materials.

A civilization that could engineer those capacities might grow structures, interfaces, filters, medicines, sensors, or transport systems rather than manufacture them in factories.

Biological science fiction should explore the downstream consequences, not simply replace metal with flesh.

Mechanical systems can become much stranger

Speculative fiction often treats gears and springs as retro technology. That is an aesthetic choice, not a law of physics.

Advanced materials could make mechanical systems lighter, stronger, more elastic, and more efficient. Flywheels can store rotational energy. Counterweights can reduce energy costs. Fluid systems can transmit force. Tension structures can change shape. Springs can store energy locally.

Spring mechanisms offer a whole language of technology based on load, release, fatigue, pressure, and maintenance.

Ecology can be infrastructure

A wetland can filter water. Mangroves can reduce storm damage. Forests influence water cycles. Soil communities support agriculture. Pollinators maintain food systems.

Ecological engineering asks what happens when infrastructure is designed with living processes rather than against them.

Solarpunk often pushes this idea toward cities, energy, agriculture, and public space. The most interesting versions do not romanticize nature. They treat ecosystems as complex systems that require stewardship and create tradeoffs.

MAYA and technology that grows from the world

The MAYA Narrative Universe makes this non-digital imagination central to Neh. Its most important information system is the Maya, a network of living trees that functions as communication infrastructure, entertainment, memory, social identity, and a source of predictive data.

That is science fiction technology without the familiar visual grammar of servers and screens, even though the social functions are recognizable.

The biological choice changes everything. A living network exists in geography. It has interfaces with bodies. It can be cultivated and controlled. It participates in ecology. Access to it becomes both a technological and political fact.

The broader setting also treats architecture and species bodies as design constraints. That creates protopian futures in which improvement is always tied to maintenance, access, and tradeoffs. Seven sentient species do not all move, sense, eat, or interact with the world in identical ways. Built environments therefore have to respond to biology rather than assuming a universal human user.

That is systems fiction because the technology is not one gadget. It is part of culture, governance, ecology, and inequality.

Outlook India’s interview with the creators describes MAYA’s worldbuilding process as involving evolutionary biology, architecture, cognition, politics, and other disciplines before the spectacle was written.

The project can therefore be described as Deeply philosophical science fiction as much as technological fantasy: the machines exist to expose questions about control, perception, and social organization.

A science fiction mythology for the age of AI does not have to put AI in every object. It can respond to the age of AI by imagining a civilization that reached similar political problems through completely different technologies.

Different technologies produce different vulnerabilities

Digital systems fail through bugs, cyberattacks, power outages, surveillance, and data monopolies.

Living systems can get sick, mutate, reproduce, become invasive, or depend on habitat. Mechanical systems wear out, fatigue, jam, and require physical maintenance. Ecological systems can cross thresholds that are hard to reverse.

Those failure modes generate new stories.

Interfaces do not have to be screens

The dominance of screens in present-day life can make them feel inevitable.

A future interface might be tactile, chemical, auditory, hormonal, biological, architectural, or spatial. Information could be encoded in color-changing organisms, scents, pressure patterns, or physical transformations.

Magic systems in fantasy are often memorable because interaction rules are embodied. Science fiction can learn from that.

Materials can change civilization as much as software

Concrete, steel, glass, plastic, rubber, and synthetic fertilizers transformed societies because they changed what could be built cheaply and at scale.

A speculative material with unusual elasticity, self-repair, strength, conductivity, or biological compatibility could be just as world-changing as artificial intelligence.

The important question is not “What can the material do?” It is “Which institutions appear once everybody can use it?”

More technological diversity produces more imaginative futures

Science fantasy is often better at this than hard-edged futurism because it gives itself permission to start from unfamiliar mechanisms.

A city grown from living structures, a transportation network powered by stored tension, or a memory system maintained by organisms may look fantastical. If the consequences are worked through carefully, the result can still feel rigorous.

Science fiction needs more technologies that are not computers because the world contains more than one form of causality. Biology, energy, matter, ecology, and mechanics are not supporting characters in the history of technology.

They are entire futures waiting to be written.

Non-computer technology also changes narrative tempo

Digital systems operate at extraordinary speed, and fiction built around them often inherits that tempo. Information crosses continents instantly. Software can be copied at negligible cost. Automation scales quickly.

Other technologies produce different rhythms. A forest takes time to grow. A breeding program takes generations. A mechanical reservoir must be charged. A canal takes years to build. A material may need curing, cultivation, or seasonal harvesting.

Those time scales change politics. Infrastructure that takes decades encourages long-term institutions and creates lock-in. Biological systems can escape and evolve after their designers are gone. Mechanical systems may remain locally repairable for centuries.

This gives writers new kinds of suspense. Instead of a hacker racing a processor, a community may race a growing season, a material-fatigue limit, a disease cycle, or the slow spread of an engineered species.

Technological diversity therefore expands narrative diversity. Different mechanisms create different clocks for a civilization.

Technology can be geographically specific

Digital platforms tend toward standardization because the same software can run in many places. Biological, ecological, and architectural technologies are often more local. A system that works in a wet tropical region may fail in a desert. A material abundant in one geology may be rare elsewhere.

That specificity can produce richer cultures. Instead of every city using the same future interface, technology can grow from climate, species, materials, and history. Trade then becomes the exchange not only of products but of techniques that may or may not travel well.

Worldbuilding benefits because place matters again.

That also changes inequality. A global software service can spread rapidly, while place-bound technology may cluster around specific ecosystems or resources. Control of fertile soil, specialized organisms, rare elastic materials, or water systems could matter more than control of chips. The geography of power would change with the engineering.

The same principle applies to expertise. A computer-heavy future privileges programmers, data scientists, chip designers, and network operators. A biologically engineered future would elevate ecologists, breeders, clinicians, and cultivators. A mechanically sophisticated one would create different crafts again. Technology changes which kinds of knowledge become politically valuable.

More like this

← back to the blog