Simulated reality vs. well....reality

Just a quick thought today: ever notice that in science-fiction (goodbye, casual blog readers!), a recurring trope is that of the protagonist(s) trying to escape his or their simulated reality upon discovering the existence of an external one? Some examples are the Matrix films (if you ignore the abysmal sequels, the first movie kind of nails that trope right in the head...and in other places...ad nauseam so to speak), Phillip K Dick's A Scanner Darkly (a lot of his work, really - if you've watched the movies Total Recall and Blade Runner, you get the idea), Nolan and Johnson's Logan's Run, The Truman Show, and so on. What is interesting to me is that in real life, humans act in the almost exact opposite way: we do our best to escape from reality into a simulated, controlled environment. I know messageboards, instant messaging, text messages, Second Life accounts and so on are a far cry from the promised virtual reality worlds we were shown at trade fairs and leaky basements years ago, but this is at the very least the genesis of a virtual life. We hide behind new monikers, create idealized avatars to represent our subconscious and then go out and play on a fake playground. Some people seem to immerse themselves into the simulation a bit too much for it not be considered borderline insane.

I feel the need to qualify the term "fake playground" here. What does it mean to be fake? Are our experiences outside of a tactile, mainly physical reality really more real than the range of emotions and sensual (aural and visual) experiences we find through a video interface? Is it fascistic to excise invidualistic needs to branch out into a digital persona and consider all non-physical reality counter-cultural and dangerous? Will you write me a check made out to cash?

The concept of virtual escapism isn't limited to the tail end of the 20th and beginning of the 21st century. I'd consider plays, works of literature, radio dramas all forms of virtual reality. Those who created such works built entire worlds for their imaginations and alter-egos to play in, while their patrons enjoyed the alternate reality any dramatis personae provided for them. Why is it then, that in sci-fi we find this trope of seeking escapism from the virtual reality into the mundane, if human beings don't actually seem to desire it as deeply? I'd chalk it down to a sort of liberal paranoia, that large faceless entities seek to enslave the protagonist in its simulated reality to keep him or her from thinking freely, buying competitors' products or what have you. However, people in general don't seem to mind submitting their senses, lives and wallets to a virtual life, as long as it provides them some sort of new lease on life that they cannot otherwise ante up by themselves. Hell, even this blog is testament to that.

We live in an interesting time since we are seeing science fiction come to life all around us. People of all ages are now playing video games, have online personas, use complex smartphones, transfer money using their computer, all the time now. Technology will keep getting more and more enmeshed into our daily lives, especially as individuals in developing countries start catching up. I agree that in the process, we seem to be following through on the sci-fi soothsayers' predictions by slowly becoming more and more ofa faceless horde of interchangeable entities (just browse through the comments section of almost any blog or news post, or for the firm of heart, Youtube videos - you could swear you're reading comments by basically the same 6 people over and over on every single site), not to mention submitting our online selves to large corporate entities like Google or Blizzard. Once again, this blog is evidence to that - even though Blogger.com was an independent company, it was bought by Google in 2003. Myspace? Owned by News Corp. Even if you use Pidgin or Trillian as your IM client of choice, your username still belongs to Yahoo, Microsoft or AOL. It's a little scary to think that sci-fi works that came out at least 30 years ago predated this fear of digital assimilation. Perhaps some of that liberal paranoia isn't quite unfounded.

One counter-argument that can be offered is that no one is forcing people to join social networking sites, use IM, and so on. People are using their own judgement and free will to create their online personas using these services. While this is true, there is a scale to the amount of "free will" involved. One must consider that "free will" is subjective upon the person exerting it. If someone is deciding to get a WoW account because it looks like fun and wants to interact with his friends, make new ones, and so on, that's free will (assuming he isn't bullied into it by sweaty, pushy nerds). If a person finds that the only way to stay in touch with friends who are far flung or just too busy is through Facebook, even though the former is making a conscious choice join the site (they could just tell their friends that the phone and email are the best options if they want to reach her), they are still submitting to the mob, in a manner of speaking. There are varying levels of free will that people can choose to exercise or waive, depending on the task and how necessary vs. optional it is.

I wonder if sci-fi that turned the man-escapes-VR trope on its head and showed the protagonist actively escaping the real world, to find solace/refuge in the simulated world, would be embraced as readily as the alternative. Would that provide the reader/audience actual literary escapism or would it hit too close to home? I've always seen sci-fi (or really any literary genre) as presenting a world perhaps twice removed from real life, so that the viewer can put his or her life into a sort of perspective. How removed is that reality though, if it actually shows the opposite of what reality really is like, without being a work of parody? If our hero was to be shown, in the final few pages, strapping into the Matrix (for lack of a better example), smiling an oafish grin, and letting his body atrophy into a raisin as his brain lives on in a virtual world, would the reader be satisfied or horrified?

I think readers or audiences, as they stand today, would be absolutely shocked by such an ending. Why though? Since that's essentially what they're doing when they go home at night - not to the extreme that my little scenario above depicts, but each successive generation gets closer to what seems to be a virtual ideal. There's a marked difference what people find acceptable and what they practice.

Anonymity plays a role in this, of course - the internet is our very own Ring of Gyges that gives us a new lease of power. It's something that the virtual world grants to many that the real world affords to very few. In real life we are shy, mumbling creatures - online we are brash, opinionated loudmouths. At the same time, we don't like being portrayed in film or literature as submitting our individualism and personal freedom to the cold, soulless virtual world, but that is exactly what we're doing anyway, for better or worse. I'm not saying there's a fine balance to be had or a jarring realization to stumble upon; human beings have shown themselves to be contradictory, fickle creatures time and time again. It is worthwhile, however, to realize where our disconnects lie.