Doctor Who and Philosophy

Home > Other > Doctor Who and Philosophy > Page 24
Doctor Who and Philosophy Page 24

by Courtland Lewis


  Because the Doctor has respect for other species, he’s not speciesist in Singer’s sense of the word: he recognizes that other species, although they may be intellectually inferior to Time Lords, still have interests that matter. Just as we humans should care about how we treat animals, whatever their intellectual ability, so the Doctor takes seriously his ability to help others. And because the Doctor has a developed sense of empathy, which other Time Lords, and most Daleks and Cybermen lack, he’s able to respond appropriately and work with other species, rather than patronize them or use them as mere pawns in a game. The moral is that logical ability isn’t the be all and end all. Our human capacity for emotions, empathy, and compassion should also be valued.

  18

  Cybermen Evil? I Don’t Think So!

  COURTLAND LEWIS

  The Doctor’s argument that Cybermen are evil fails to take into account the motives behind why Cybermen act the way they do. Despite Cybermen being portrayed as emotionless, conquering, killing machines, a careful examination of Cyber-nature shows that we humans share many more important beliefs and motivations with the Cybermen, than what we may’ve thought. Though we find some of the Cybermen’s actions morally wrong, they shouldn’t be judged solely on a few bad characteristics; we should also consider what good qualities they may have. To be responsible in our critique of Cyber-culture we must attempt to understand Cyber-nature.

  The Ethics of Cybermen

  It’s true that Cybermen do a lot of really bad things, like persistently “upgrading” humans and killing anything and everything else that doesn’t serve their interests. However, just because they perform bad actions doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re evil.

  Utilitarianism is an ethical theory that maintains an action is morally right if it maximizes good consequences (namely, happiness or pleasure) for the most people, while minimizing bad consequences (pain). The agent needs to consider all relevant outcomes of an action and the interests of those who will be affected by the action. Each person’s interests are weighted equally; no one person’s interests are intrinsically more valuable than any other’s. Thus, the action that produces the greatest amount of good (happiness or pleasure) for the most people must be chosen. An example of utilitarian reasoning is seen when the Doctor ponders whether he should destroy the Dalek race in “Genesis of the Daleks” (1975). In this episode, the Doctor and Sarah Jane have an intriguing discussion to determine the fate of the Daleks. The Doctor realizes that by exterminating the Daleks “hundreds of millions of people, thousands of generations can live without fear, in peace, and never even know the word ‘Dalek’,” yet, he also realizes that not exterminating the Daleks produces its own set of equally good consequences: “... some things could be better with the Daleks. Many future worlds will become allies just because of their fear of the Daleks.” The Doctor ponders: if I destroy the Daleks, am I maximizing the good while at the same time minimizing the bad? Sarah Jane tries to help the Doctor resolve his conundrum by offering reasons why destroying the Daleks maximizes the good, saying, “Think of all the suffering there’ll be if you don’t ... [kill the Daleks].” The Doctor, however, rejects this type of consequentialist utilitarian reasoning and opts for a different ethical standard, based on duties.

  Whereas utilitarianism maintains that morally right action always equals good action, duty-based ethical theories maintain that performing the right action for the right reasons, namely out of a sense of moral obligation, is primary, and the consideration of consequences should be ignored. Duties can be formulated in various ways, but according to Immanuel Kant (1724-1804), in Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, they have three features: they’re objective, universal, and respect the autonomy and rights of others. In the ethical conundrum above the Doctor considers more than consequences. He replies to Sarah Jane, “Have I that right? ... Do I have the right? ... If someone who knew the future, pointed out a child to you and told you that that child would grow up totally evil, to be a ruthless dictator who would destroy millions of lives, could you, then, kill that child?”

  The Doctor’s dilemma is that, even though he knows what the Daleks will do if they’re allowed to exist, he’s not sure that he has the right to destroy a creature (a proto-Dalek) that has yet done no wrong. The Doctor asks Sarah Jane, and indirectly the viewer: if given the chance to go back in time to Adolf Hitler’s birth, is it morally acceptable to kill a person who hasn’t yet committed any crimes, though will do so? He can think of many good consequences for killing and for not killing the Daleks, but he doesn’t feel he has the moral right to kill them, especially since they’re (so far) innocent of any wrongdoing. The Doctor believes he has a duty to protect innocent lives, even if they’re the lives of creatures that will become Daleks. This decision is one a duty-based ethicist would make.

  Just as we saw with utilitarianism, the relationship between the right and the good is important. In the case of duty-based ethics, the right action doesn’t equal the good action. One can do what’s right and still suffer or cause others to suffer. Allowing the proto-Daleks to live continues the existence of the Daleks, who later cause a lot of pain and suffering for others, which is bad, but, for the Doctor, it would be morally wrong to exterminate a species that has done no harm. In duty-based ethics, ‘right’ can be separated from ‘good’, and ‘wrong’ from ‘bad’, and as a result, we must rethink our understanding of the rightness and wrongness of Cybermen’s actions.

  From a duty-ethics perspective, it should now be clear that even though the Cybermen perform many bad actions, which cause harmful consequences, it doesn’t mean they’re necessarily morally wrong, even though the writers of Doctor Who want viewers to think this way. They portray Cybermen as selfish, oppressive “psychological egoists” (acting only in their own self-interests), bent on destroying humans. They attack Earth, forcibly “upgrade” humans to Cybermen, and kill the ones that can’t be upgraded. This stereotype is misguided.

  A more in-depth examination suggests Cybermen act on a different moral principle: altruism. Altruism is opposed to egoism in the sense that altruists act in the interests of others. Altruists consider the desires and needs of others and act in such a way to make sure these needs and desires are met; indeed, sometimes at the expense of their own desires and needs. Now I expect most readers to have their jaws fully dropped, mouths agape: “What?!” I admit that my claim is, well, shocking—perhaps like walking into the TARDIS for the first time. But once we understand the Cybermen better, we’ll see that their actions—at least the ones directed towards humans—really are consistent with altruism.

  The Geneses of the Cybermen

  The examination of Cyber-nature must begin with the origins of the Cybermen, and there are three explanations offered from the classic, new, and comic book series of Doctor Who, respectively. In the classic series, Cybermen are humans who lived on Earth’s twin planet Mondas. After the planet drifted away from Earth’s orbit, the population of Mondas began replacing their “weak” human parts (such as arms, legs, and heart) with superior cybernetic parts, and constructed a means to suppress human emotions—a rather nasty human psychological weakness. Eventually, the citizens of Mondas transformed themselves fully into Cybermen. Not only do Cybermen believe their cybernetic parts are superior to human-parts, but their transformation gives them the ability to live a life guided by pure logic, free from pain, fear, and for the most part, death (“The Tenth Planet,” 1966). The effect of these changes creates the incorrigible belief in the Cybermen themselves that they’re the most superior beings in the universe, which for some Cyber-enthusiasts isn’t that far-fetched.

  The new series offers a different genesis of the Cybermen. Instead of arising on a parallel planet, the Cybermen arise in a parallel universe. In this parallel universe, John Lumic, a technological wizard and creator of many cybernetic and synthetic inventions, creates the Cybermen out of his desire to avoid the pain associated with aging and death. Lumic is confined to a wheelchair
and kept alive by a variety of devices, and because of the “weakness” of his body, he devises a cybernetic device that stores his brain and saves him from pain and death. According to Lumic, the brain is the locus of humanity, and if it can be preserved, then humans can be transformed into superior Cybermen (“The Rise of the Cybermen” and “Age of Steel,” 2006). What’s more, during the preservation of the brains of each human, Lumic “upgrades” them by implanting an emotional inhibitor to keep the now new Cybermen from feeling any emotional pain, and he replaces their human body with a cybernetic one. Hence, Cybermen feel neither physical nor emotional pain, and they live indefinitely. So again, we see that Cybermen view themselves as superior beings because they lack emotions and so have overcome the weaknesses of human frailty, pain, and suffering.

  Grant Morrison’s comic book series offers a radical explanation of the genesis of Cyberman that suggests they’re the result of the evolutionary process, and are destined to one day be the greatest agents of peace to ever exist! Morrison bases this evolutionary tale on the Doctor’s encounters with the Voords in “The Keys of Marinus” (1964) and the Cybermen in “The Invasion” (1968). According to Morrison, Cybermen evolved from the Voord (a race of amphibious assassins) as a result of the use of a “world-shaper machine” that accelerates time and causes rapid environmental changes.88 Between the Doctor’s first visit to Marinus (in “The Keys of Marinus”) and his last visit in Morrison’s comic book, the Voord have evolved into the early developmental stages of Cybermen, and Marinus has evolved into the planet that’ll become known as Mondas. When the Doctor realizes what’s happening, he tries to stop the continued evolution of the Voord/Cybermen, but the Time Lords keep him from doing so. Angry that he’s not allowed to stop the development of the Cybermen, the Doctor quickly leaves before finding out that the Cybermen will some day become creatures of pure thought, and the most advanced peace-loving race in the universe.

  Barring any new revelations about the nature of Cybermen, there are three related beliefs of Cyber-nature. First, Cybermen believe that pain (both physical and emotional) should be eradicated. Second, they believe all things capable of pain are weak and must be upgraded so that they’ll no longer be susceptible to pain. Third, they believe emotions must be inhibited, for they too are a weakness. Cybermen believe that they’re a superior race, and that their way of life is superior to that of humans because they’ve achieved what all humans strive for: a life free from pain and death. This overarching belief dictates how Cybermen treat humans, and why they believe it’s acceptable to treat humans as lesser beings.

  More importantly, as the comic-book series shows, these beliefs don’t necessarily entail that the Cybermen are evil. It’s these beliefs that form the basis of Cyber-nature, which will form the foundation for the Cybermen’s future: supreme agents of peace. Therefore, we shouldn’t be too surprised to find morally good characteristics within the Cybermen’s belief system.

  It’s probably difficult for most readers to accept the tale that Cybermen evolve into highly advanced beings of pure thought, who are devoted to peace because of how Cybermen are commonly presented. However, if we can mentally suspend what we’ve been taught about the Cybermen for almost fifty years, and look at them in a new light—as eradicators of pain and suffering—and not merely as Cyber-bullies, then it’s possible to see Cybermen in a more altruistic way, as agents dedicated to helping those who are “suffering.”

  Humans seek relief of physical pain by going to physicians or dentists and emotional pain by going to psychotherapists or priests. Cybermen, on the other hand, offer their own unique cure to both physical and emotional pain; one that’s much more effective than human cures—in the sense that one doesn’t have to worry about such pains ever again. By looking at Cybermen in this way, their actions shift from being about human destruction to being about helping humans achieve what we all strive for—a life free from suffering, pain, and death. They’re quite efficient at their job because they’re not hindered by emotional considerations of what’s lost when one achieves the total freedom of pain that one strives for. From their point of view, then, they’re quasi-saviors to the human race.

  Their conquests, then, should not be viewed as mere killing sprees, but as altruistic campaigns to grant weaker beings what they’ve long wished for—a pain-free, immortal existence. An example of this can be seen in “Age of Steel.” Cyber-creator Lumic begs with the Cybermen not to upgrade him, but it’s obvious that he’s in pain and about to die. So, in order to help cure him, they upgrade him. Now, we humans might not like the methods the Cybermen use, but it must be remembered that Cybermen consider themselves to be superior to the weak humans who suffer and die. They’re acting in our own best interests and so see themselves as “humanitarians,” or rather, “Cybertarians.” If we were Cybermen, we’d agree.

  One final note, Cybermen shouldn’t be confused with human attempts to advance the human species along one particular conception of humanity: most notably, the Nazi movement. The Nazis promoted an agenda that focused on improving German society by eradicating undesirable aspects of it and promoting particular Nazi “virtues.” Cybermen, on the other hand, don’t discriminate between races, genders, or ethnicity—they’re an equal opportunity “upgrader,” just like the Borg in Star Trek. The Cyberman, unlike the Nazis, understand the human desire to avoid physical and emotional pain, and are able to give humans what they so desperately desire. So, Cybermen strive to improve, not destroy, the lives of all humans, not to build up or destroy specific national or ethnic groups.

  Is There a Doctor in the House Who Can Help?

  The Doctor’s clearest argument against the existence of Cybermen appears in the episode “Age of Steel.” The Doctor never talks of good and bad, or right and wrong, but his argument goes something like this:1. It’s good for living creatures to strive for a life free from sickness and death.

  2. It’s bad for living creatures to not strive for this.

  3. Cybermen lack this striving aspect.

  4. Therefore, Cybermen are bad.

  It’s quite easy to get caught up in the show and to take this argument to be a good argument, especially when David Tennant is the one presenting it! However, once one takes a closer look, it becomes obvious that the Doctor is making a radical claim that there’s such a thing that’s good to strive for but bad to achieve. It’s clearly true that there are things that are bad to strive for that are also bad to achieve. For instance, I often find myself striving for fried fish sandwiches but acquiring too many of them is bad for my health. So, if something’s bad for my health, then my striving for it seems bad too, assuming I want good health. In this case, I’m striving for something bad, and it’s bad to achieve. The Doctor, on the other hand, suggests that the striving for something good, like health, is good, but the actual achieving of health is bad, which sounds strange indeed!

  Careful reflection on the Doctor’s claim offers little help. If it’s good to strive for something, then it must also be good to achieve it. The only plausible counterexample is that knowledge might be something that’s good to strive for, yet bad to achieve. Take for instance the episode “The Five Doctors” (1983), where multiple regenerations of the Doctor come together to gain knowledge of immortality, which the Time Lord, Rassilon, keeps hidden in his castle. Of course, the Doctors are being manipulated to gain this knowledge by someone evil, which turns out to be Lord President Borusa, and it’s Borusa who’s really seeking out Rassilon’s knowledge of immortality. In the end, Borusa gets the knowledge of immortality and the immortality he desires, but he ultimately regrets getting it, for it means he will live for an eternity as a stone figure on Rassilon’s tomb.

  This appears to be a clear example of the seeking of some knowledge that’s good, but at the same time is bad to achieve, but it’s not. The knowledge is good because it’s the same thing that the Doctor claims all humans strive for (a life free from pain and death), and it’s bad because to achieve it, one must
continue one’s existence as a stone figure. However, the achievement of the knowledge isn’t what’s bad: the Doctors, their companions, and the viewers now have knowledge of Rassilon’s immortality, and none of them are worse off for having such knowledge. The only ones who are harmed in the entire episode are a lot of poor Cybermen who are slaughtered by the Raston Warrior Robot in the process of Borusa achieving his knowledge, a few Daleks, and Borusa himself. However, Borusa is the only one that’s directly harmed by Rassilon’s method of achieving immortality. But it’s not the knowledge that’s bad; it’s the immortality as an immobile stone for all eternity that’s bad. Hence, seeking knowledge fails to offer an adequate counterexample.

  There’s nothing bad about not having pain and not dying: I count it a good day when I avoid both! The problem with the Doctor’s argument is with his claim that not having the striving aspect to avoid these is bad (premise 2). If the Doctor is correct that it’s good to strive for a life free from pain and death, then it must also be the case that it’s good to actually achieve a life free from pain and death. It appears that the only way to make the Cybermen’s achievement morally wrong is to say that it’s morally wrong to strive for a life free from pain and death; but then premise 1 of the Doctor’s argument is false. The result of this change means that any human who goes to a physician, takes medicine, or avoids pain and death, is in some way immoral! To avoid this unsettling conclusion, we must reject the Doctor’s second premise, and accept that if it’s good to strive for something, then it’s good to achieve it. Hence, the Doctor’s argument against the Cybermen fails.

 

‹ Prev