Blog #3: Walking Away From Omelas: “Utopia or Dystopia?”

I want to ask you to take a moment to stop reading. Stop reading and visualize anything and everything you’ve ever wanted in your life. Think about a dream job, and a dream house, and even a dream city that you would love to live in, where pain is an afterthought. A picture-perfect life with no suffering for as far as your eyes can see.

If you’re anything like me, you probably raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “That sounds great and all, but…. What’s the catch?” I think many people have felt scorned by life enough times to realize that nothing is free; or rather, nothing good in life comes without a price—some form of payment or sacrifice must be made.

This got me thinking about the ways in which creative writers choose to depict fantastical societies, and what this may say about the values of humanity. More specifically, I began to think a little deeper about the polarized concepts of Utopia and Dystopia.

“If humans use reading as a means of escapism from the real world, what do these recurring literary tropes say about our desires?

Is Utopia supposed to speak to our desire for a stress-free feeling of security?

Or, perhaps, is Dystopia supposed to remind us of the consequences of our actions, and the dangerous volition of free will?“

I guess what these tropes are intended to communicate may vary on a case-by-case basis depending on the author.

Still, I find it curious that society has categorized the concepts of Utopia and Dystopia as complete antonyms—black and white, with hardly any grey space. Surely, writers must realize that the ideals of humanity vary on a case-by-case basis, and nothing could ever be categorized so easily. Could Dystopia and Utopia, instead, be considered as a spectrum?

If so, most of the Science Fiction media I have consumed tends to fall more towards the grim desolation of Dystopia. Why? Maybe it’s more satisfying to watch characters overcome oppressive struggle rather than be born into a Utopia with very little plot device, since everything is already perfect.

This realization sparked an even deeper question.

“What about the intention of the author? Are the concepts of Utopia and Dystopia even different, or do we as an audience categorize them according to our individual values?“

 For example, the “perfect world” I asked you to imagine in the beginning could be completely different from my version of Utopia depending on how different our lives and values are. Would that make your Utopia my Dystopia?

This goes back to the earlier idea that nothing good in life is free. This means that even in the fantastical depictions of Utopian societies, someone somewhere is sacrificing or has sacrificed something for the greater good of “indiscriminate happiness.” From this perspective, Utopia and Dystopia are one in the same—a state of mind based on your perception.

In “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas,” Ursula K. Le Guin takes some of the same liberties as I, asking the audience to walk with her through an almost unimaginably bright Utopia. It has bells, whistles, horses, flutes, streamers, and anything you could imagine that would make society happy. Omelas is that happy place you thought of in the beginning. Omelas is meant to be your happy place.

“So…. What’s the catch?”, you ask again? Using equally-descriptive language as she used in describing the Festival of Summer, Le Guin shifts to a dark place, describing a place filled with viscerally horrifying smells and sounds and unimaginable terror. She describes a child locked away in a basement, meant to suffer eternally—the Dystopian fuel that keeps the Utopia above running.

“They all know it is there, all the people of Omelas. Some of them have come to see it, others are content merely to know it is there. They all know that it has to be there. Some of them understand why, and some do not…” (Le Guin).

In that case, can we even consider Omelas a Utopia at all? I’m not sure who gets to qualify that… Given this context, I shift the question back to you. Would you still want to live in your “perfect world,” if the price was the suffering of someone innocent?

Maybe your morality would let you justify putting your own happiness first– but maybe your conscience would keep calling out louder and louder until you can’t do anything– except walk away.

(This image stood out to me as significant, as it not only shows a beautiful depiction of the land of Omelas, but it also reflects the woman’s morality… I interpret this as her choice to walk away from the life of privilege she had always known within the city, because she could not consciously live a happy life, knowing the cost was a suffering child.)

In my research of the principle differences between Utopia and Dystopia, I came across this KnowledgeHub video that serves as concise summary of these “differing” terms.

In an exploration of culture, the narrator was able to give context to the etymological word origins, as well apply some of the concepts of Utopia and Dystopia to our modern world. He seems to emphasize my established line of questioning along the way– “How do we distinguish the difference between Utopia and Dystopia?”

As described in the video, the writing of Sir Thomas More really gives insight towards his individual ideals of how a “perfect world” would actually function. This is important, as it helps highlight our cultural disconnect. Our contemporary understanding of what we value from life, given all the conventions of convenience provided by innovation, has even shifted More’s idea of “Utopia” to be considered “Dystopian” by modern standards.

I think what makes the idea of a Dystopian society so frightening is the concept of permanence. The idea that once a Dystopia is established and becomes the new “normal,” it likely can’t be stopped, as societies begin teach new generations new, restrictive molds of thinking….

Maybe this is why the ones who walk away from Omelas never try to take the innocent suffering child with them; as they were conditioned to believe their peculiar culture to be that of a “perfect world.” They are willing to sacrifice their own happiness, but they are not willing to force anyone else to give up their established way of living– even if it means leaving the child to suffer.

The more and more I think about what I would consider to be my “perfect world,” the more happy I feel about the many privileges I am already afforded. In a way, maybe making the best of life’s situations is as close to “Utopia” as I can ever get.

At least I have the luxury of choosing to walk away.