Americocentric
Isaac Asimov’s fiction is stiflingly Americocentric. There are no other countries worth troubling with on Earth. Whether ‘man’ reaches out to colonise the planets, to settle on Mars or Mercury, invents hyperspace and travels to colonise distant planets or stays at home to create the megacities of Caves of Steel – it’s Americans who do it, with American technology, and American culture.
And the home city of every story is always New York. In the final story of I, Robot, it is New York which becomes seat of the new World Government and the World Co-Ordinator is, of course, American, as are the inventors of robots, and the hyper-drive, and anything else worthwhile that mankind comes up with. 3,000 years later, after billions of people have left earth to colonise the Outer Worlds, detective Elijah Baley lives in New York.
Everyone speaks English
With the result that everyone speaks English. It is one of the many ludicrous elements you have to overcome in order to read the Foundation trilogy, that 12,000 years in the future, and inhabiting planets scattered right across the inconceivable distances of the Galaxy – everyone speaks English. There’s a slight gesture towards reality in that some of the humans on the more remote planets have an accent which is a bit hard for others to understand. But it’s always, everywhere, basically English that is spoken by everyone in his galaxy.
Planets become provinces
I can’t quite define it, but it’s the way all his (and other golden age writers’) universes consist of planets which just do one thing and are treated, in effect, like real-world people treat regions of their countries.
Thus a planet in the Foundation books is a ‘holiday planet’, as if one whole planet were made of beaches and cocktail bars. Another planet just supplies raw materials. In The Naked Sun Solaria is the planet with most advanced robotics. And that’s it. That’s all it does.
Planets – entire planets – are conceived of as one-trick ponies, which do just the one thing. Completely ignoring the evidence we have about the only planet where we know life exists – our own one – that planets are astonishingly diverse, in climates, life forms, economic and cultural activity.
It is a profoundly dumb way of thinking about planets. As if each one is a toy in a childish game. It is an example of the way Asimov and other Golden Age writers dismiss or ignore the mind-boggling diversity of life on our own planet. In Asimov’s science fiction the teeming diversity of planet Earth is over and over again reduced to American men arguing in rooms. It follows that his view of the entire galaxy is the same, just many more American men arguing in many more rooms.
It is this reductive mindset which makes so many of the planets in the Foundation stories end up sounding the same. The stories may be given a paragraph or so of cursory description at the start – but they all have earth-type gravity and air, no radiation or dangerous environmental elements of any kind. They’re just variations of the same kind of futuristic room where Elijah Baley ends up meeting and arguing with people, or the protagonists of the Foundation stories end up meeting and arguing with each other. Americans in American rooms arguing with other Americans.
A human-only universe
This imaginative reductionism is echoed in the way that there appears to be no other life in the galaxy.
Humans colonise all the other planets in our solar system, then hypertravel off to other star systems, and end up colonising pretty much every other planet in the galaxy and yet – encounter no other significant life forms.
It’s not only that this is unlikely (although it’s all completely unlikely). More to the point, it is extravagantly boring. It means that all Asimov’s fiction is about people, the same kind of people, a certain type of calculating adult, calculating the same kinds of odds and trying to figure out whodunnit.
They’re all detective stories
All the Foundation stories and the Elijah Baley stories are, in a sense, whodunnits. The Baley ones obviously so, since he is a detective investigating murders. The Foundation ones in a more roundabout sense. In every Foundation story there is a dilemma or threat. Individual or group X think the best way to solve the problem is by doing Y. But the hero (or heroine) of each story knows better and all the stories end the same way: the secret of what really happened is revealed right at the end. So although they’re not overtly detective stories, they have a similar structure: dilemma – fake leads and red herrings – revelation of the true solution or meaning of events.
Simplistic politics
Having painted a childishly simplistic vision of a galaxy in which each planet does just one thing, in which there are no aliens to disrupt his whodunnits, Asimov only incorporates the most simplistic and child’s-eye version of ‘politics’ as is required to drive the stories.
If there are ‘political’ movements, they are a) perfectly understandable and b) perfectly rational and c) childishly simple.
Thus in The Caves of Steel there is a ‘party’ – the ‘Medievalists’ – which wishes to return humans to a simpler, earlier time. That’s it. There don’t appear to be any other political parties in America. There’s no mention of elections, with the vast amount of corruption and bullshit they usually throw up, let alone of the notion that there are different countries who might be economic or military rivals (as we know there have been throughout all human history).
No – magically, the entire world of national and international politics disappears with a wave of the magic wand, leaving behind just enough of a child’s cartoon version of ‘politics’ (a secret society who want to turn the clock back – about as sophisticated as the League of Red-Haired Men in Sherlock Holmes) as is required for make the hokey storyline.
Pretty much the same ‘party’ – really a conspiracy – appears in the final story of I, Robot where it is the Society for Humanity which opposes the rise of the robots.
Any other notion that people might disagree about fundamental principles of how to run the economy, how to redistribute wealth, whether to allow unchecked capitalism or moderate it or try and implement some kind of state economy, the usual nationalist, xenophobic and populist motivations for politics which we all know from the real world – all these have gone, vanished, evaporated, been cleansed from Asimov’s fiction – just like all the other nations apart from America have vanished, and all the other languages apart from English.
Economics
Similarly, Asimov’s take on economics is raw materials are needed for factories on Earth. That’s about it. The Earth of The Caves of Steel is rigidly hierarchical but we don’t really get to see anyone at work except the police (we do meet a worker in a nuclear plant and the staff of a shop where an anti-robot riot nearly breaks out) and these police could come out of a Raymond Chandler novel or any of the thousands of other contemporary cop thrillers.
Real economics involves the continuously evolving exploitation of raw materials, and siting and building of factories, and the training of workforces to supply technologies which are constantly being invented solely to make money. America has been the world’s leading capitalist economy and society for at least a century. It is extraordinary that Asimov, for all his supposed intelligence, is blind to the disruptive energies of capitalism which always lead, everywhere, to the provision of a high standard of living for many, maybe a majority of a capitalist population, but also always involve low wages, unemployment and – a cardinal fact of untrammeled capitalism – the cycle of boom and bust, with periodic crashes leading to deep depressions every ten years or so, unemployment, social unrest and so on.
In the real world it is difficult even to organise the workers in a particular industry to join together to take industrial action or bargain for better pay. In Asimov’s world entire planets truck along quite happily producing raw materials or being vacation planets or whatever, with no sense of struggle or exploitation or grievance or class or racial conflict.
All the problems and complexities which we know perplex the actual world are systematically excluded from his childishly simplistic stories.
Wars
Similarly, real-world wars break out for complex reasons and, once started, tend to develop a dynamic of their own and become very difficult to end.
But as you might expect by now, wars in Asimov’s fiction are the opposite, as simply motivated and easily ended as his paper-thin notion of politics. Some of the Foundation wars do start for the time-honoured motivation that strong planets see an opportunity to conquer weak ones – but they are nearly always started by specific named individuals who, when we meet them, are portrayed as pantomime villains.
I’m thinking of the story The Mayors, in which the planet Anacreon is ruled by Prince Regent Wienis, who rubs his hand and cackles like a pantomime villain / Ming the Merciless, while bullying his whiney teenaged nephew, King Lepold I. It only takes Salvor Hardin to pull off a few tricks (he’s bugged the Anacreon fleet and also manages to turn off all power in Anacreon’s capital city) to overcome Wienis and end the threatened war as quickly as it began.
My point is that, in the real world, wars are often supported by entire populations which have been whipped up to expect them – as all Europe expected World War One, as the Nazis whipped up the Germans or the Japanese military leaders organised their entire society for war. In Asimov’s fairy tales, the goody only has to eliminate the cackling baddy and the rest of the population instantly returns to being reasonable and peace-loving. In other words, exactly the opposite of reality, and a child’s view of the world.
Women
It’s to Asimov’s credit that he gives leading roles to women:
- to Bayta Darell, who grasps what is going on quicker than her husband in The Mule
- to her grand-daughter, 14-year-old Arcadia Darell, in Search By the Foundation
- that Elijah Baley’s wife, Jessie, plays some role in The Caves of Steel
- that Gladia Delmarre plays the lead (a somewhat stereotyped romantic lead) in The Naked Sun
- not forgetting the way he places Dr Susan Calvin centre stage for the linked stories that make up I, Robot
Still, Asimov’s failure to anticipate women’s lib and feminism is a good example of the way that, while he and his fans had their eyes fixed on the stars, real and profound social changes were transforming human relationships here on earth (in the West, at any rate) in exactly the decades when he was active as a writer.
I’m not blaming him for failing to anticipate specific social changes: I’m just pointing out that his fictions envisage basically unchanged social relationships stretching for thousands of years into the future, even as social values transformed around him – and therefore how profoundly misleading a view of human nature his is.
Race
Ditto race. In The Naked Sun the humans refer to the fleets of robots which do all the hard work as ‘boy’. Now this is the offensive, abusive term which white Americans used to blacks from the Reconstruction period onwards, and came to be used by white Southerners with horrible aggressiveness as a backlash to the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s.
Asimov couldn’t anticipate that only a decade or so after he was writing, America was to be seriously divided by the rise of the Civil Rights Movement and then the assassination of Martin Luther King, of Malcolm X, the Black Panthers and so on.
But that’s the point. While Asimov was extrapolating his neat and tidy Three Laws of Robotics, and anticipated them being carried 100, 3,000 and 12,000 years into the future by white English-speaking, Americans – meanwhile, all around him, through the 1950s into the 1960s, the real world descended into a messy chaos.
Summary
This is why so many adult readers, writers and critics were and are able to dismiss and ignore most science fiction – because science fiction itself simply excludes and ignores almost everything which makes up the actual world we live in, fails to acknowledge or engage with its difficulties and complexities and challenges and, by extension, fails to deliver fully adult rewards or interest.
Isaac Asimov reviews
1950 I, Robot by Isaac Asimov – nine short stories about ‘positronic’ robots, which chart their rise from dumb playmates to controllers of humanity’s destiny.
1951 Foundation by Isaac Asimov – the first five stories telling the rise of the Foundation created by psychohistorian Hari Seldon to preserve civilisation during the collapse of the Galactic Empire.
1952 Foundation and Empire by Isaac Asimov – two long stories which continue the future history of the Foundation set up by psychohistorian Hari Seldon as it faces down attack by an Imperial general, and then the menace of the mysterious mutant known only as ‘the Mule’.
1953 Second Foundation by Isaac Asimov – concluding part of the ‘trilogy’ describing the attempt to preserve civilisation after the collapse of the Galactic Empire.
1954 The Caves of Steel by Isaac Asimov – set 3,000 years in the future when humans have separated into ‘Spacers’ who have colonised 50 other planets, and the overpopulated earth whose inhabitants live in enclosed cities or ‘caves of steel’, and introducing detective Elijah Baley to solve a murder mystery.
1956 The Naked Sun by Isaac Asimov – 3,000 years in the future detective Elijah Baley returns, with his robot sidekick, R. Daneel Olivaw, to solve a murder mystery on the remote planet of Solaria.

