Fandom Classics Part 205: A Change in Three Parts

To read the story, click the image or follow this link.

I don't know about anyone else, but I'm not super bothered about Scarlett Johansson playing the Major in the new Ghost in the Shell movie.  I mean, yes, it's whitewashing, but I guess I don't expect Hollywood to be culturally sensitive to begin with?  My expectations are too low to be really disappointed.  It does kind of bug me that Batou looks so goofy, though.  He really should have, like, 100 more pounds of muscle and ocular prosthetics that don't make him look like he's constantly trying to stare down the tip of his own nose.  That just seems like (aesthetic) common sense, no?

Whatever; I'm probably not going to see the movie anyway (I see so few these days), so I reckon there's no point caring too much.  Instead, let's move on to my review of GaPJAxie's A Change in Three Parts, below the break.


Impressions before reading:  The last time I read a polemic by this author, I was unimpressed.  On the other hand, the last time I read something else by the author, I thought it was just fine.  So naturally... I'm reading another polemic, this time about transhumanism.  I'm starting to feel like maybe you guys aren't recommending the very best that GaPJaxie has to offer.  Alternately, maybe it's only his beat-you-with-the-message fics that get popular.  Either way, I'm not optimistic going in, but I'll hope that this is at least less disappointingly strawmannish than Would it Matter if I Was?

Zero-ish spoiler summary:  A pony named Dust has invented a way for to change from earth pony to pegasus to unicorn and back at will, and now wants to publish that information.  All she needs is Princess Twilight's approval--only it seems that approval isn't assured.

Thoughts after reading:  I was introduced to this as a story about transhumanism, so it's interesting to me that there's not actually any message in it about transhumanism, except perhaps extremely tangentially.  No, this is a story about freedom of information--except that neither the characters nor the story itself seem to recognize this, and instead devote their time and energy to superficially and unconvincingly addressing a completely different question, then turn around and claim that solving one (for a certain definition of "solved," at least) had solved the other.

Simply put, the crux of this story is whether or not ponies should have general, limited, or no access to the ritual(?) Dust used.  The rest of the main six advise Twilight against it for various reasons relating to the risks or dangers, and Dust attempts to refute them.  But none of those reasons have much, if anything ("anything" in the case of Dash's objection, certainly) to do with whether the information itself should be publicly available.

If anything, it's a little striking that GaPJaxie envisions Equestria as so radically different from modern western civilization in terms of its attitude toward this.  If I wanted to, I could go to the library right now and find all sorts of dangerous information--how to construct various sundry explosives, how to create a nuclear reactor, detailed descriptions of various torture techniques, and much more.  I could just as easily do the same at a library in Britain, or Australia, or most any other country.  As a society, we've collectively agreed that trying to prevent that kind of information from existing is both undesirable and ineffective, never mind in cases such as this story's where the information in question has plenty of legitimate uses.  Equestria having such a drastically different approach to the concept (essentially, it appears that in GaPJaxie's vision of Equestria, information may only be shared if it is deemed safe, socially beneficent, and possessing of some clear and tangible value) isn't exactly an impossible assumption, but it definitely strikes me as an odd one; it turns the story into an exercise in understanding the different approach to knowledge in Equestria, and takes the focus off of the knowledge itself.  This isn't a particularly damaging decision, since the story barely addresses its core question anyway, but it only contributes to the sense of misguided focus which permeates the story.

Because, as I said, all of the main six's reasons are totally tangential, and Dust elects to engage them on their turf instead of arguing for publication on any basis of logic or merit.  This is fine for what it is... but sadly, "what it is" is a transparently artificial set of strawponies being carefully set up for the express purpose of being knocked down.  Much as with when I read Would it Matter, I found this so disappointing because it's so easy to imagine there being some sort of reasonable objections, rather than patent silliness like "this new development is expensive, and it wouldn't be fair for rich ponies to have nice things, therefore we should destroy that information!"  Again, this could perhaps be attributed to a fundamental difference between pony and human mores (though one wonders how they ever developed anything approaching modern medicine with that particular attitude...), but that doesn't make it any less obviously flawed--and that robs Dust's counter-argument of basically all its power.

I will say that I appreciated the happy ending, even if the "I am making my case" strings were just as obvious there as they were in the arguments.  I was also pleased that the emotional tenor of this story was a bit more even-handed than I might have feared going in; GaPJaxie doesn't try to cast Dust as unfailingly calm and level-headed compared to the main six uniformly being rabid flailers, for example.  But that's damning with faint praise; "doesn't substitute empty emotional cues for actual arguments" is a very basic thing to expect of any story which attempts to argue a point.  While this story clears that bar, it nevertheless fails to match the case it argues with the situation it presents, and then fails to find anything meaningful to say about the case it does argue anyway.

Star rating:

  ★☆☆☆☆ (what does this mean?)

If a polemic is able to advance some interesting or at least fundamentally valid arguments and then is able to make a case against them, it has some value as a polemic; it can effectively argue for its PoV, and might even get some people thinking.  Unfortunately, this story is only able to argue against points tailor-made to be defeated, and the only thought I can imagine it readily inspiring is people contemplating what a more reasonable argument might look like.  Or what one related to the story premise might look like, for that matter.

Recommendation:  As with Would it Matter?, there's really only two reasons to read this.  One, if you want to talk to other people about it.  And two, if you know in advance that you agree with the author's conclusions, and are looking for an opportunity to turn off your brain and smugly nod along as those silly and wrong people are shown just how silly and wrong their silly and wrong ideas are.

Next time:  Celestia’s Prophet, by Ageis Shield