In Which C.S. Lewis Calls Me Out, Personally - Part 1

In this class there are two occasions where I felt personally called out by C.S. Lewis, insomuch as I felt like I held beliefs he was specifically speaking out against. The first was when reading That Hideous Strength, and the second was when reading Till We have Faces. In this blog post I'll be exploring how I felt while reading That Hideous Strength. Throughout much of my life, I have believed that it is only proper that humanity should try to reach for the stars, and attempt to extend our own lifespans. Moreover, if we can augment the human experience with technology, I think that's all for the better. I love reading Cyberpunk novels, and have what I call a "transhumanist streak". If I could live in a synthetic body, I'd strongly consider it at the least. In fact, I'd say the only differences I have with Weston before he is fully corrupted, excepting his blatant disregard for the autonomy of intelligent life, is that I have little interest in immortality (a few extra lifetimes would not go amiss, however). So you, dear reader, having been informed of the requisite background knowledge may now better understand the reason I think C.S. Lewis would disapprove of me. The brain kept alive by science in That Hideous Strength was seen as an abomination which served as a portal for devils to consort with men. I cannot know the mind of the God I believe in, but I am hesitant to believe that he would damn anyone who were to attempt to translate their existence into a more mechanical form. For those of you who are fans of Star Trek: The Next Generation, imagine the android, Data. Does he have a soul? Is he as worthy of entering whatever afterlife there may be? I like to think so. And if artificial life has such a privilege, then how much more would cyborgs have, or biological life entirely turned mechanical? Is using science to such ends inherently evil? I do not want to believe such a thing. C.S. Lewis might have responded that my desires are corrupted by my fallen nature as a man corrupted by the bent eldils of earth. And he could be right, but I would have no way of knowing. While I doubt the judgement of any earthly factory foreman who might tell me I am a broken machine, if the God of Abraham is real, and agrees with Lewis, then my desires would matter little in the face of objective truth.

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