Hey everyone, this is Jared, a creator here at Wisecrack. Today we have a special
episode about a series that everyone’s going crazy for: Fallout. Let's set the scene:
"What is this 'fallout' anyhow?"
The Fallout series takes place around the 23rd century, in an alternate reality where
the culture of the 1950s just wouldn’t die, but most of humanity does. In this world,
the cold war mentality was prevalent right until the bitter end. After nations began
to run out of oil in the 2050’s, the world plunged into a global conflict that ended
in 2077 when the then-nuclear powers decided to launch their arsenals at each other, enveloping
the world into a new dark age. Apocalyptic fiction is a goldmine of philosophical
analysis- and Fallout is no different. Welcome to this special episode on The Philosophy of Fallout.
In our first section, we’ll be talking about how society, culture and propaganda can convince
us to do really, really stupid things. Okay so we know that a nuclear war completely devastated
Earth, but one of the more fascinating questions is how did it get there?
In the alternate reality, fascination with atomic power proliferated during the mid 20th
century, and was never offset by the invention of the transistor – you know, those little
electrical parts that led to the radio, computer, and the smartphone you’re probably watching
this video on. As a result, the prewar society of Fallout is technologically advanced like
our own, but in a slightly different way. Technology is big, and bulky, and the computers
are primitive compared to our own. On the other hand, they have badass power armor and
laser guns, so society as a whole probably didn’t miss the advent of Minecraft that much.
The Wasteland, the general term for the nightmare
landscape that pervades the game, is filled with reminders of the sheer optimism of the
pre-war world. It was the age of atomic energy, where our greatest dreams could be accomplished
with a little ingenuity and maybe a few giant anti-communist death robots
"Death is preferable alternative to communism."
Nowhere is this optimism more apparent than in the vaults themselves.
Even when nuclear
annihilation seems imminent, the remnant Vault posters maintain a certain cheeriness.
Now, let’s ignore the fact that many of the vaults were really just a cover for the
government to concoct insane experiments on its residents.
"Haha, Garryyyy..."
The Vaults are a testament to the human power of cognitive dissonance. The possibility of
being locked in an underground bunker for an indeterminate amount of time is advertised
as an exciting foray, where you can meet new friends and raise a family. The vaults are
a callback to the luxury bomb shelters of the Cold War era - yes, they really existed.
These mental gymnastics were taken up by German-American philosopher Herbert Marcuse during the height
of the Cold War. He argued that these pleasant appearances plastered over modern day nightmares
were a testament to the ability of modern society to destroy criticism.
"You know how bad sunburn can feel. The atomic bomb blast could burn you worse than a terrible sunburn."
In other words, capitalism is so damn good at
marketing, it makes even the worst shit in the world just seem “dandy.” He even cites
the real life “deluxe fallout shelter,” replete with televisions, lounge chairs and
Scrabble boards as the ultimate example of the “obscene merger” between appearance
and reality- between a cozy luxury getaway, and a situation that unilaterally sucks balls.
This disparity between appearance and reality
is what drives the humor of Fallout. We are constantly confronted with contrary images:
the quaint and cheery Leave-it-to-Beaver-esque culture and the hellscape it’s set in. In
addition to the vaults, this can be observed in the game’s radio stations that serenade
the Wasteland with chipper jazz tunes as the player fends off the crazed irradiated remnants
of the human race
"Hellooooo, Capitol Wasteland!"
The use of the song “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire,”
used prominently in the game’s trailer, plays off of the song’s innocent romanticism
with the imagery of the burnt out remains of Washington DC.
And, you know, the world was literally set on fire. Other songs, like Cole Porter’s
upbeat “Anything Goes,” a song about the lax morals of modern society, is a nod to
the absolute anarchy of the Wasteland, where in addition to “exposed women’s stocking,”
cannibalism is also fair game.
These marriages between positive and negative, happy and sad, dream and nightmare aren’t
just comedic. It’s the mechanism in which we as a society are constantly celebrating
the same culture and technology that consistently puts us at the brink of total annihilation.
We may laugh at this ironic play of elements, but we can also view it as a criticism of
government propaganda.
Marcuse argued that we are living in an age of “one-dimensional thought,” enabled
by the merging of positive and negative, where rationality and technology can only go one
way - forward. In other words- we are told that technology is always good. Always. So
while society is free to debate about the best way to bring order to the Wasteland or
kill Communists
"Democracy is truth. Communism is a lie."
there is no room “negative thought” or ideas
that undermine the one-dimensional, inane positivity of society.
This is perhaps most clear at the beginning of Fallout 3, where
the player is literally trapped at their own birthday party until they have a sufficient
amount of fun.
Another component of “making everyone A-OK with our twisted reality” is simply by making
them too happy to care. This leads us to The Enclave. The Enclave
is what’s left of the United States government that want to purge the Wasteland of, well,
everybody. We learn that John Henry Eden, the president of “The United States” is a computer.
"Ahh, face to face at last."
As if an actual computer trying to kill everybody wasn’t enough to demonstrate
the dangers of one-dimensional thinking, Eden understands the
importance of fun and leisure in an obedient society. In one of his radio addresses to
the Wasteland, Eden praises the virtue of baseball as some savior to the American dream:
"I am referring, of course, to our great national pastime: baseball.
That's right, America. Before we were devastated by atomic war, each state had its own professional baseball team.
Their purpose: to make you, dear America, revel in the joys of sport and sunshine.
Put your faith in John Henry Eden, great America, and baseball will live again."
The comfort and recreation that John Henry Eden is trying to revive are hallmarks of
the prewar society. The Wasteland is littered with reminders of our own excess: leisure
suits, magazines, televisions. We’re even confronted with a gang that mistakenly thinks
that Elvis Presley is some kind of deity.
These comforts provide us as an easy way to
cope with the horrific reality around us. Eden is trying to resurrect the same kind
of distracted society that got us in this mess in the first place. A society that
probably wouldn’t mind if he tried to kill them all, because, well, he’s still totally trying
to do that too. From the Great War that decimated the world,
to the secret government experiments that created the Super Mutants that are now trying
to kill you; we’re constantly reminded of technology run amok. In Fallout, as in real
life, technology is a double edged sword- both good guy and bad guy.
So when we, as players, are confronted with choices about technology, the game presents
us with a series of moral dilemmas. Should technology be used to provide clean
water for the people of the Wasteland, or unleash a devastating virus to purify
it of its violence and corruption? Who should gain control of Mr. House’s robotic
army in the battle over the fate of New Vegas? These questions, for the thoughtful player,
can be quite troublesome. The idea that humans can’t handle technology
is really old. Fallout draws inspiration from the Greek myth of Phaethon, the son of the
sun-god Helios. Phaethon, being the brash child he was, decided to take his dad’s
ride for a spin. But unlike your dad’s Porsche
"Porsche: there is no substitute."
Helios’ ride was a chariot that carried the actual sun across the sky. It
went exactly as you’d expect, with Phaethon pretty much ruining everything –and burning
up huge portions of the Earth. In New Vegas, the giant solar plant capable of harnessing
(pun intended) the sun’s energy is called Helios One. And like Sun-god Jr., the player
can gleefully take the sun’s destructive power for a joy ride and slaughter thousands
of NCR soldiers. One response to this technological dilemma
is the Brotherhood of Steel, the secretive order of power-armor clad badasses who roam
the Wasteland looking for long lost technology. Like post-apocalyptic hoarders, the Brotherhood
stashes their technology in heavily armored bases to make sure that it doesn’t fall
into the wrong hands - the wrong hands, of course, being
anybody but them. The Brotherhood is so insistent that nobody can be trusted with technology
but themselves that they will go to war with any faction possessing advanced tech.
Perhaps the Brotherhood is right that we can’t be trusted with technology, but if so, it’s
probably also true that they shouldn’t be trusted either.
The other response to technology is seen in Caesar’s legion, who swears off technology
except the kind that enables its user to kill better. But unlike the Brotherhood who thinks
technology is inherently dangerous, Caesar believes that technology makes people weak
and dependent. Even without technology, Caesar’s legion
manages to do plenty of wrong-doing. The brutal, totalitarian state doesn’t need super computers
or power armors to make everyone’s live a living hell. So maybe technology isn’t
to blame after all.
The citizens of the Wasteland come together
to create various forms of governments, from cruel tyranny fueled slavery, to liberal
democracies, to uh, whatever this is Aside from illustrating political theories
from the days of yore, Fallout also does a pretty good job of explaining modern theories
about international relations. In New Vegas, Caesar wants to unite all of
humanity under his banner in a dystopian nightmare where everyone is a slave and Roman cosplayer.
While Caesar’s Legion is superficially modeled after the Roman Empire, the actual foreign
policy of Caesar is alive and well today. Caesar thinks that peace comes through security
and doesn’t believe that peace is attainable until his Legion is the only dominant faction
in the Wasteland, if not the only faction at all. In international relations, we call
this the “hegemonic stability theory,” which believes that superpowers scare the living
hell out of everyone else and they all, for the most part, behave.
"America, f*ck yeah!"
To an extent, it works in the game. Traders prefer to trade in Legion territory because
it’s safer. Raiders have been eliminated and everyone is terrified to break the law.
Traders in NCR territory, however, always have to be on alert for raiders and other
small factions. Every faction in Fallout is essentially trying
to become the local hegemon, the international equivalent of the playground bully, by putting
other factions in their place and vying for power. And it goes without saying that if
Caesar eliminated the NCR and other factions, there would be some sort of “peace” on
the Wasteland. If you’re not looking to enslave the whole
world, there are other options available. In many situations, a balance of power among
factions makes war too costly. If the NCR hasn’t invaded New Vegas to annex it, it’s
not because they’re a bunch of outstanding citizens, but because the cost would simply
be too high. The Boomers understand this, and like a post-apocalyptic Switzerland, have
only managed to stay out of everyone’s business by protecting their borders with a constant
barrage of artillery fire. For those who ascribe to a “realist” model
of international relations, each faction or state is only out to save their own hide,
and power is a zero-sum game. The only way to ensure security is to make sure you have
more vertibirds than the next guy. Peace is only achieved by uncertain ceasefires between,
say, the NCR and the Enclave. Alliances are fleeting, and only exist to combat more powerful,
and dangerous, factions. Now, whether or not this works is debatable. Even in the real
world, lots of wars are fought over who gets to be in charge.
"America, f*ck yeah!"
It precludes the ability
of factions to work together and truly trust each other, and isn’t that what launched
us into nuclear holocaust in the first place?
The stakes of diplomatic relationships in Fallout are always REALLY high. Namely because
every single issue is caught in a life and death struggle for the soul of humanity.
But how far are you willing to go to maintain your security?
Should the NCR resort to bullying, tolerate corruption, and make alliances with not-so-scrupulous
figures to maintain the peace and expand their power, all in the name of democracy? In Fallout
3, how far will you go to bring clean water to the Wasteland? Should you, as a player,
murder every obstacle, or seek the diplomatic approach?
Assuming you haven’t decided to play the game in the most evil way possible, many make
a choice to support whoever is “right.” Maybe you believe that the NCR, while flawed,
is the kind of democracy that the world needs. Or maybe you think technology needs to be
taken from the irresponsible actors who possess it.
The problem with “security logic,” according to some philosophers, is its totalizing logic.
Daniel Callahan argues that there is no limit in the amount of terrible, grotesque things
we are willing to do in the name of survival.
Or, in the words of ol’ Ben Franklin “Those
who surrender freedom for security will not have, nor
do they deserve, either one.” The point is not lost on Enclave President
John Henry Eden, who declares on radio:
"The question has been raised,
I know, as to just how I came to be elected.
Unfortunately, in the interest of national security, I'm not at liberty to discuss the details of the election."
The Enclave will go so far to save the “real” humanity that they will exterminate all the
mutated riff raff that threatens them. A similar despotism is seen in New Vegas,
though a little less genocidal. If you work for Mr. House in New Vegas until the conclusion,
you’ll trigger an ending the looks like this: “Mr. House continued to run New Vegas
his way, a despotic vision of pre-War glory. The streets were orderly, efficient, cold.”
In other words, the chaos of the Wasteland could be tamed after all, but only at the
expense of personal freedoms and democracy. Mr. House is explicit in his distaste for
freedom, saying “Nothing to impede progress. If you want to see the fate of democracies,
look out the windows. But autocracy? Firm control in the hands of a technological
and economic visionary? Yes, that Vegas shall have.”
In actual history, we see security as a constant theme among dictators. Crises are manufactured,
and threats exaggerated to justify more police and more repressive laws. In the world of
Fallout, there are no shortages of these crises to exploit.
One of the most fascinating elements of the Fallout series is its constant interrogation
of human society and government. The game’s refrain that “War never changes” might
as well say “humanity never changes.” After all, aside from the feral ghouls and
super mutants, the scariest part of the Wasteland is a rehashing of our own regrettable history:
slavery obsessed Romans, Orwellian dictatorships, and genocidal governments. History, it seems,
does repeat itself.