In her book A Brief History of the Future the author and trend consultant Oona Strathern examines ‘How visionary thinkers changed the world and tomorrow’s trends are “made” and marketed’. It’s a story that takes us from Ancient Greece to the present day – and, for obvious reasons, beyond. The book introduces us not only to one future but to many: some are appealing, some terrifying, some frankly bizarre. A Brief History of the Future offers a lucid, insightful and witty account of the lives and ideas of a fascinating array of thinkers: its rich cast of visionaries includes philosophers, novelists, scientists and professional futurists. The book also explores the development of futurism as a profession and as an academic discipline, and offers an intriguing first-hand account of what it means to be a contemporary futurist. A Brief History of the Future is not only a treasure-trove of unforgettable biographical anecdotes and a spell-binding tour through the history of ideas but an unmissable guide to the past, the present and the future of the future.
I interviewed Oona Strathern to find out more…
Q: As you explain early on in A Brief History of the Future, the book explores the ‘live works and mindset of some of the most important futurists’, from Plato and the Delphic Oracle, via Sir Thomas More, Karl Marx, H.G. Wells, and a host of other less well-known figures to the present day. For those who haven’t read the book yet, what were your key criteria for defining a ‘futurist’?
A: A futurist for me is simply someone who thinks systematically about the future. These are the people who ask intelligent questions about why we live how we do today, and make educated guesses as to how that might affect our lives in the near or far future. The most interesting futurists are often those who would not have defined themselves as such, but whose way of thinking have helped change the way we think about the way we will (or will want to) live. Futurists should not be defined by whether they were right or wrong, good or evil, optimistic or pessimistic, but whether they have something to contribute to how we approach the future.
Q: There’s a moment in Anthony Powell’s novel Temporary Kings when the narrator finds himself thinking about Marinetti and the Futurist movement of artists and writers in the early Twentieth Century, with their fetishization of speed and technology and their desire to eradicate the past. Looking back from later in the century, Powell’s narrator ruminates that ‘The Futurists, with their sentimentality about the future’, already seem ‘antiquely picturesque’. There’s an interesting discussion of Marinetti and his brand of Futurism in A Brief History of the Future, but what Powell is describing here seems applicable to many of the projected futures you chronicle in your book. One of the things I greatly enjoyed in your book is the way in which you write so generously about visions of the future which now themselves seem misguided or old-fashioned – often comically so. What would you say are the most important things to be learned from looking back at what past futurists have ‘got wrong’? How helpful is it to talk with hindsight about futurists getting things ‘right’ or ‘wrong’?
A: Futurists over the years have often asked the wrong questions, made wrong assumptions and appalling presumptions about how other people will want to live and work. The Right-wing Italian Futurists are a good example of why we should continually question and evaluate how futurists work and think. Good predictions do not necessarily come with good intentions, and we need to learn how to evaluate the methods and motivations of those who are in a position not only to predict the future, but to shape the future. People like Nostradamus also teach us that it is not always a question of whether predictions are “right” or “wrong” but whether they come from a trustworthy, well considered source. Furthermore if you look back at fiction writer futurists, we see that dystopias such as George Orwell’s big brother scenario was an interesting factor in fuelling the discussions about the potential and pitfalls of CCTV and public privacy issues.
Q: Which of the many and varied futurists you write about in A Brief History of the Future have most influenced or inspired you personally? Which did you most enjoy writing about?
A: The real rewards were discovering unknown and underrated future thinkers such as the extraordinary ex-porn writer Bernard Wolfe. It was also a real challenge to find female futurists, and I was delighted to discover and appreciate just how much of a future thinker Anthropologist Margaret Mead actually was, contrary to her image and popular opinion. Another great discovery was Elizabeth Burgoyne Corbett who back in 1889 had some very insightful visions and thoughts on a more female-led future in Ireland disguised as a utopia. I am also a great fan of Richard Dawkins, and although he would never describe himself as such, I gave him the honorary title of futurist, as I believe that he is a great inspiration and influence for future thinking.
Q: In the book you describe a week in the life of the futurist Matthias Horx, a fascinating insight into what a contemporary futurist is and does. A typical week for a futurist would seem to involve at least one memorably cringy interview with a journalist who hasn’t done enough research. What is the most frequent (or irritating) misapprehension about futurism that you encounter?
A: Here I would like to make a confession - that Matthias Horx is actually my husband, so his typical working week is one that I observe closely and experience myself in our office. The most annoying and tenacious assumption about the future is that we will all be running round in tight shiny suits, eating pills and will have robots as pets. For some reason people cling to these sci-fi driven images and are both fascinated and appalled by it. Another assumption is that things are getting worse in the world – you just have to look at say the changes in infant mortality in India, or average incomes in South America to see that things are getting generally better. And who of us would have dared to go to a dentist 100 years ago! It just shows what a short-term memory civilisation has!
Q: One of the fascinating concepts that recurs throughout the book is that of the ‘monkey trap’ or monkey puzzle – a term coined by Bruce Sterling to describe the one conjecture that for personal reasons a futurist can’t let go of. It’s the ‘fantastic curiosity’ that a futurist finds it impossible to resist, the often banal or off-the-wall fixed idea that skews their predictions. By combining biography and the history of ideas, A Brief History of the Future ponders fruitfully on the ways in which futurists’ own lives have shaped their personal ‘monkey traps’. I wondered whether having a personal hobbyhorse of this sort is something that all futurists share to some extent? Is it possible for a futurist to diagnose their own ‘monkey puzzle’?
A: When I was working as a trend researcher I had absolutely no idea that I was a victim of a monkey trap. Only in writing this book years later, was I forced to look back at my predictions admit to my “projections”. This trap does not always mean that futurists are wrong – for instance I was making predictions about women of my age who were in a similar predicament in terms of life-work balance, so there was a relevance and poignancy to my ideas that were shared by a lot of people. The problems occur when the trap takes over – when a small peccadillo, personal problem or issue is turned into a particular prediction, or a “mission”. H.G Wells was guilty of this when he predicted that in the future having affairs would be as morally reprehensible as playing golf. It is also noticeable that many brilliant minds predict that we will be able to transfer the contents of our brain when we die as simply as data on a USB stick from one computer to another. So no, I don’t think futurists can diagnose their own traps – though at the European Futurists Conference in Lucerne this year I had a few confessing to me discreetly that they were trying very hard to do so!
Q: Of all the projected futures in the book, which would you most and least like to have to live in, and why?
A: The idea of a women-only future à la Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s would certainly be a dystopia and not a utopia for me. Buckminster Fuller’s “Cloud Nines” are a lovely poetic idea for future living, but might not suit my visitors with vertigo. On a more realistic and practical level I am currently working on actually realising my own vision of the future to live in - building a future evolution house in Vienna with smart simple technology and hopefully such things as a renewable energy plug-and-play car. And if I could cherry-pick from futurists’ visions I would take faster hassle-free borderless flying and travel, less wrinkles, and maybe even occasionally a homework-helper cook robot for the children. That sounds very appealing…
Many thanks for talking to donowdo.com, and all the best with the book.
A Brief History of the Future by Oona Strathern is published by Constable and Robinson.