Brace yourself.
In 1900 the cloud on the horizon was no bigger than a man’s hand — but what
lay ahead was the Panic of 1907, World War I, the panic following it, the
Depression, Fascism, World War II, the Atom Bomb, and Red Russia.
Today the clouds obscure the sky, and the wind that overturns the world is
sighing in the distance.
The period immediately ahead will be the roughest, cruelest one in the
long, hard history of mankind. It will probably include the worst World War
of them all. It might even end with a war with Mars, God save the mark!
Even if we are spared that fantastic possibility, it is certain that there
will be no security anywhere, save what you dig out of your own inner
spirit.
But what of that picture we drew of domestic luxury and tranquillity for
Mrs. Middleclass, style 2000 A.D.?
She lived through it. She survived.
Our prospects need not dismay you, not if you or your kin were at Bloody
Nose Ridge, at Gettysburg — or trudged across the Plains. You and I are
here because we carry the genes of uncountable ancestors who fought — and
won — against death in all its forms. We’re tough. We’ll survive. Most of
us.
We’ve lasted through the preliminary bouts; the main event is coming up.
But it’s not for sissies.
The Last thing to come fluttering out of Pandora’s box was Hope — without
which men die.
The gathering wind will not destroy everything, nor will the Age of Science
change everything. Long after the first star ship leaves for parts unknown,
there will still be outhouses in upstate New York, there will still be
steers in Texas, and — no doubt — the English will still stop for tea.
Afterthoughts, fifteen years later —
(a) And now we are paying for it and the cost is high. But, for reasons
understandable only to bureaucrats, we have almost halted development of a
nuclear-powered spacecraft when success was in sight. Never mind; if we
don’t, another country will. By the end of this century space travel will
be cheap.
(b) This trend is so much more evident now than it was fifteen years ago
that I am tempted to call it a fulfilled prophecy. Vast changes in sex
relations are evident all around us — with the oldsters calling it “moral
decay” and the youngsters ignoring them and taking it for granted. Surface
signs: books such as “Sex and the Single Girl” are smash hits; the
formerly-taboo four-letter words are now seen both in novels and popular
magazines; the neologism “swinger” has come into the language; courts are
conceding that nudity and semi-nudity are now parts of the mores. But the
end is not yet; this revolution will go much farther and is now barely
started.
The most difficult speculation for a science fiction writer to undertake is
to imagine correctly the secondary implications of a new factor. Many
people correctly anticipated the coming of the horseless carriage; some
were bold enough to predict that everyone would use them and the horse
would virtually disappear. But I know of no writer, fiction or non-fiction,
who saw ahead of time the vast change in the courting and mating habits of
Americans which would result primarily from the automobile — a change which
the diaphragm and the oral contraceptive merely confirmed. So far as I
know, no one even dreamed of the change in sex habits the automobile would
set off.
There is some new gadget in existence today which will prove to be equally
revolutionary in some other way equally unexpected. You and I both know of
this gadget, by name and by function — but we don’t know which one it is
nor what its unexpected effect will be. This is why science fiction is not
prophecy — and why fictional speculation can be so much fun both to read
and to write.
( c) I flatly stand by this one. True, we are now working on Nike-Zeus and
Nike-X and related systems and plan to spend billions on such systems — and
we know that others are doing the same thing. True, it is possible to hit