Written by: Aidan Srb
Star Wars has always been more “space fantasy” than “science fiction,” so it makes sense that it isn’t often interpreted as an explicit “warning” about the future of technology like many of its sci-fi contemporaries were — indeed, George Lucas seemed more interested in the past than in possible futures when crafting his six-film narrative despite its futuristic aesthetic. The iconic opening line, after all, transports us to “a long time ago,” and Lucas’ historical influences guide many of the series’ political and philosophical developments. Admittedly, the politics of Lucas’ Star Wars are what most stand out to me now, but interwoven with that political commentary is the ubiquitous presence of advanced (and, yes, futuristic) technology guiding the flow and distribution of power, often quite brutally.
In A New Hope, the first Star Wars film Lucas ever made, images of vast and threatening technological and military power are almost exclusively associated with the unambiguously evil Empire. In the film’s famous opening shot, the ship belonging to the heroic Rebel Alliance darts across the screen only to be immediately dwarfed by the Empire’s pursuing ship, which is clearly superior in size, strength, and firepower. This characterization of the two sides remains consistent throughout the film, with the Rebels clearly outgunned and outnumbered in their struggle against the dominant military power of this galaxy.
This idea culminates in the ultimate symbol of Imperial technology’s destructive potential: the Death Star, a planet-killing superweapon. The genius of the Death Star as a thematic device is revealed in its visual appearance: first mistaken by the film’s heroes for a moon, the space station is a gigantic grey sphere with millions of implied inhabitants, literally an artificial, metallic planet. Its primary function is to destroy real, organic planets and all of their implied inhabitants. Indeed, we watch the Death Star do just that when it targets Alderaan, one of the few planets in Star Wars that, from outer space, closely resembles our own blue-green planet of Earth. This is as clear of a warning as Lucas provides about the “futuristic” technology he depicts: in addition to giving the one who holds it absolute power over the world/galaxy, it has the power to destroy all that is real — all of life itself.
Just as interesting is the Rebel Alliance’s response to this existential threat. There is no attempt to take the weapon out of the Empire’s hands to have it for themselves, nor even the thought of building an equally powerful superweapon to counter it. Within the context of the story Lucas created, these options are not feasible, as it was important for Lucas that the Rebels are materially outmatched and overwhelmed — their asymmetric style of warfare more accurately reflects a true revolution against an oppressive military superpower. This means there is no path to a true “arms race” resembling what followed the introduction of nuclear weapons to our own world (which is the closest real-world equivalent to the Death Star). There is a political purpose to this distinction, as the original Star Wars films are in part a condemnation of American imperialism, but importantly, it means the “good guys” never possess their own Death Star — such weapons of mass destruction are solely reserved for the evil Empire. Instead, the Rebels have only one plan of action available to them: destroy the Death Star entirely to rid the galaxy of its terrible potential. Of course, the rebels do not have the firepower to attack the station head-on, so they must rely on a desperate shot into a weak point in its core that will cause the whole thing to explode — and this shot is only achieved when Luke Skywalker rejects the aid of his targeting computer, a technological tool, and fully places his trust in the mystical Force…and in his own abilities. It is a victory not only for the Rebels, but for humanity and life itself as they triumph over inhuman (and inhumane) technology. For Lucas, the Death Star’s terrifying capacity for mass destruction is too great an evil to be allowed to persist in any form, regardless of who possesses it.
Lucas’ aversion to the futuristic technology that he imagines, and his belief in its potential to corrupt and destroy life and humanity, also appears in the form of the original trilogy’s most prominent antagonist, Darth Vader. Described at one point to Luke as “more machine than man,” the towering figure in the black mechanical suit is hardly identifiable as human until it is revealed that Luke’s own father survives behind the mask, kept alive by the suit while little of his organic flesh remains. In Revenge of the Sith, the series’ third chronological film, the donning of the suit becomes a metaphor, as Anakin Skywalker gives in to his anger and hatred, succumbing to the Dark Side of the Force and, in the process, losing most of his humanity. He loses his limbs and burns off most of his flesh and, ultimately, is saved by the suit — but the result is “more machine than man,” as the suit becomes a trap in which the last remnants of his humanity slowly suffocate. Anakin’s ultimate redemption, when he rejects the Dark Side to save his son in the final chronological film in Lucas’ Star Wars saga, includes his decision to remove his mask and look upon his son “with my own eyes” — without the constraints of the machinery that has barely sustained his life for so long at the expense of his humanity. He looks upon Luke with his unobstructed human eyes and tells his son not to worry about saving him, for he “already [has]” by reminding him of his humanity. Then, peacefully, naturally, he allows the suit to fail…and dies.
Vader isn’t the only case of Lucas using futuristic technology as a metaphor for the corruption of natural human life in service of great evil. Attack of the Clones, the second chronological film of the series, features striking images of a war fought on one side by metallic droids and the other by manufactured clones. The battlefields of this film and Revenge of the Sith almost exclusively feature “artificial” beings mass-produced in factories for the sole purpose of fighting and dying in wars orchestrated by the people who ordered the creation of these beings. This is perhaps Lucas’ most dystopian concept, a vision of war in which the presence of natural life itself seems entirely absent, replaced by massively destructive but ultimately shallow displays of technological and military might. And of course, it’s all the result of political games played in high offices by manipulative, self-serving individuals — and a system that enables them. It only makes sense that this entire spectacle of galactic war is nothing more than a distraction invented by the man who ultimately becomes Emperor and orders the creation of the Death Star to reinforce his absolute power.
The point here is that Lucas again presents advanced technology as a corrupting and harmful force, an existential threat to humanity and natural life due to its destructive potential when in the wrong hands — and Lucas seems convinced that it is likely to end up in the wrong hands, for the right hands would never want to hold such power anyway, preferring to eradicate its existence. In this way, Lucas’ political resistance to authoritarian concentrations of power is interwoven with his philosophical concerns about advanced technology’s potential to enable such concentrations of power through military might. And when humans give in to such technology for the sake of power, Lucas wonders, will humanity itself be spared? How much of Anakin really survives behind the mask of Vader?
Featured Image Caption: Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader oversee the construction of the Death Star in Star Wars: Episode III — Revenge of the Sith.
