Integrity in Science Fiction

...or integrity in Historical Fiction, or any other fiction in which the real world plays a large part in conveying the elements of the story. 

By integrity I mean factual integrity.

Put the science back in science fiction.  When did fantasy start muscling its way into Sci-fi?  I love fantasy, don’t get me wrong, but I hold the firm belief that if you’re going to label it as “science” anything, actual science should play a part.

There is a scale of tactile differences when it comes to sci-fi: you’ve essentially got your hard and your soft, and a lot of it slides around in-between.  Factual accuracy is much more rigorously sought after in hard sci-fi than anywhere else, but does that mean that “soft” writers are exempt from knowing anything about science?

Let me give you some background on why I’m writing this post, why I’m advocating for artists motivating themselves to keep integrity a part of their art.

Recently, on several forums dedicated to the wonderful world that is sci-fi story telling, I’ve run into factual problems.  People who seem to have very little, or no basic understanding of the science upon which their stories are supposedly based.  Actually, I’ve run into this a lot.  And not just on forums filled with aspiring authors. 

Now, it’s impossible for someone to know everything about everything.  Mistakes are bound to be made.  I’ve made plenty myself.  It’s silly to expect people to be 100 percent accurate in story telling.  After all, just because someone’s never been to the Sistine Chapel doesn’t mean they’re precluded from ever setting a story there.

But you’d expect them to at least look at some pictures, wouldn’t you?

Let’s take an example from recent media: V, the new version.  I’m on the fence; I want to care about the show, but I’m having a hard time because it seems like the writers don’t care.  They don’t care enough to look up something basic, like how DNA is structured (hint: if large chunks are missing, the nucleotides left without end-caps won’t float in a nice double-helix for you).  And they don’t care enough to make sure they understand the terminology they’re using; just because something is unstable doesn’t mean it’s “weaponized.”

They don’t care enough about their work to make sure very basic, easy to look up facts are right, so why should I care at all?  If they’re not going to put real effort into their story telling, I’m certainly not going to waste my time forcing my belief into suspension.

And that’s the kicker:  If you care enough about your work to make sure the basics are correct, you’ve taken a step in the right direction.  When you get basics wrong people notice, and they care.  You think using too many adverbs is bad?  Getting facts about the world around you wrong is worse.

Let’s take another favorite:  Death by exposure to the vacuum of space.  Ok, we’ve all seen this one a hundred times, and it seems to happen a hundred different ways.  Astronaut takes off his helmet and--wham--his head explodes, or he freezes solid, or his blood boils, or he’s fried by all those microwaves bouncing around out there.

Why are there so many different versions of the same thing?  Surly taking your helmet off in space isn’t a crapshoot-- it’s not like they are all possible options, right?  Right.

So, why?  Why can’t anyone in Hollywood (or sci-fi in general) agree on how space-exposure kills?

Because they don’t care enough to look up the facts.

Guess how long it takes to find out what really happens?  Five minutes.  Five lousy minutes to access NASA’s website and read the articles pertaining to vacuum exposure (of course, for any stories that pre-date the web this would have taken longer to find out.  And any stories that pre-date scientific knowledge on the subject are exempt).

Want to know what happens?  Go look it up.

Again, if you don’t care enough to look up even the easy stuff, why should I care enough about your story to read it?

Integrity is important.  Any scientific idea central to your story should be as accurate as you can make it.  No excuses.  If then you run into problems, fine, but at least you tried.  As I said, no one is expected to be perfect.

But there is a second point to this: accuracy is even more important if you’re trying to point out someone else’s mistakes.  I try not to do this too often, especially if I’m not 100% sure about something, because there’s a chance they really do know and I don’t.  I try and fact-check myself before I attempt to fact-check anyone else, because this can really get you into trouble.

Point in case:  I occasionally run into people who try to correct my descriptions of electricity or the conduction there of.  This really irks me.  My husband has a PhD in electrical engineering, and he’s my first reader.  Believe me, if there’s anything wrong with the way I describe anything electrical, he’s already fixed it.  And these instances are sad, because the people who are “helping” me really don’t know what they’re talking about.

Arrogance masquerades as know-how all the time.  Don’t get fooled, and know the difference in yourself.

And don’t assume you know things.  You know what they say about assuming.  Be sure.

Moral of the story: Don’t leave it up to your audience to catch your mistakes.  Know what you’re talking about.  Just because there’s a portion of the population out there that won’t know the difference doesn’t mean you’re excused from trying.

I repeat: integrity is important.  Spend the five minutes to verify your details.  Your audience will thank you for it.

~Marina

P.S. Rejections: 27

P.P.S.  If I’ve made any mistakes in this post, chalk it up to irony ;-)