From aliens in outer space to strange islands in the middle of nowhere, science fiction has a seemingly versatile definition that even authors disagree on. Author Ursula Le Guin describes science fiction in the introduction of her novel, The Left Hand of Darkness, as a thought experiment, in which the reader’s “thought and intuition can move freely within bounds” set by the author (Le Guin). While she argues that science fiction is based purely off of literary theory and metaphors, scholar Peter Fitting claims that this particular genre has the “ability to reflect or express our hopes and fears about the future,” with physical, historical, and scholarly arguments (Fitting 138). And yet, both authors utilize their respective approaches at science fiction to point to a collective truth about present-day society. In what follows, I will assert that while Le Guin and Fitting disagree in definitional work, the two authors both hold truth to be an important aspect of the science fiction genre.

In her concise and compelling introduction, Le Guin clearly outlines her definition of science fiction: a method of describing reality in the present world. She first establishes her argument by equating science fiction with an experiment; she acknowledges the famous physicist Schrödinger and his experiments to assert that, similar to other thought experiments, science fiction is purely descriptive, not predictive. Through this comparison, Le Guin builds the argument that predicting “is not the business of novelists,” people who “invent persons, places, and events which never did and never will exist or occur” (Le Guin). Science fiction, by her definition, is merely a reflection of the present, not potential possibilities of the future. And while she accentuates her claims through the example of a very real physicist and his very real experiments, Le Guin believes that novelists achieve this reflection through abstract literary concepts. She states that as a fiction writer, the only truth she can express is “logically defined, a lie; psychologically defined, a symbol; aesthetically defined, a metaphor” (Le Guin). Logics, lies, psyches, symbols, aesthetics, and metaphors are all intangible and obscure principles, which, per Le Guin’s insistence, is what comprises the science fiction genre.

Peter Fitting, contrarily, constructs a definition of science fiction that is grounded in tangible historical and social cues. In his article, “Utopia, Dystopia, and Science Fiction,” Fitting defines science fiction as a genre that is rooted in its “ability to reflect or express our hopes and fears about the future” (Fitting 138). And while he does concede that the genre is comprised of invented persons, places, and events, Fitting illustrates how novelists shape their fabricated stories around real, substantial events. He enlists the example of the Great Depression, and how “science fiction in the pulp magazines of the 1920s and 1930s in the United States was resolutely optimistic and increasingly convinced of the role of technology in making a better world” (Fitting 140). Fitting contends that following a bleak and disheartening period of American history was a renaissance of science fiction works that presented encouragement and comfort. Conversely, he also describes how “with the decision to use the atom bomb against civilian targets in Japan (in 1945), science fiction lost much of its optimism,” and instead introduced more dystopian works (Fitting 140). In short, Fitting asserts that science fiction often creates an alternative civilization with reference to social, political, and historical cues. He suggests that these alternative societies are designed to “give the reader an indication of what needed to be changed in her own society” (Fitting 137). Science fiction, by his terms, offers a future where factual and absolute events pave way for societal transformation.

Fitting’s description of how social and historical trends play a role in the science fiction genre presents a juxtaposition to Le Guin’s figurative definition. And yet, it is evident that both authors agree that science fiction writers essentially want to tell a truth about a society. Le Guin states that “fiction writers do desire the truth: to know it, speak it, serve it,” but they do so by constructing a whole other universe with people and events which do not and will not exist (Le Guin). Fitting agrees and states that “the accounts of real lands and peoples were followed by accounts of invented lands and peoples” (Fitting 143). In essence, the two authors agree that science fiction, no matter if the story is told in the context of abstract literary theories or concrete historical evidence, has a fundamental element of truth to it. Le Guin asserts truth through her metaphors and juxtapositions. At one point, she writes that “the only truth [she] can understand or express, is logically defined, a lie” (Le Guin). The term “logically defined” directs us to recall the basic definition of a lie – something that is not true. We know that Le Guin has a very scientific and analytical approach to writing – her accreditation to Schrödinger and experimentation is evidence of this. Therefore, it is reasonable to believe that she equates her quoted logically defined lies with her fictional stories, ones that do not have true people or tell of necessarily true events. Stories that are not true, which are inherently lies. Le Guin suggests that by telling such elaborate and circumstantial lies, science fiction writers “describe...certain aspects of psychological reality in the novelist’s way,” (Le Guin).

Fitting argues that real world events influence those in fictional stories to reflect a contextual truth of a society. Earlier, I mentioned his example of the Great Depression, and how science fiction works following the bleak time period were filled with optimism and hope. The assertion that Fitting makes from this case is that although it was just recovering from one of its most austere eras, American civilization has engraved in its foundation aspiration, optimism, and faith, which is a truth about our society that authors potentially wanted to reveal. He further argues that science fiction offers a unique platform for satire and social criticism, which additionally exposes truths about a target society. As he transitions in his article from a broad understanding of science fiction to more specialized sub-genres like utopian, dystopian, and anti-utopian fiction, Fitting discusses how “the critique of contemporary society expressed implies (or asserts) the need for change” (Fitting 141). These critiques point out a flaw in our real, present-day society by illustrating a seemingly distant, yet uncomfortably familiar society. By alluding to actual events or authentic values, science fiction writers hope to create a connection between their fabricated world and our real world to get their message across.

There are such diverse and conflicting thoughts on what science fiction is and how novelists should approach this genre. Skilled writers alike demonstrate complex arguments that seem to point to the question: what is the goal of science fiction? It leaves us with questions after we finish certain novels about the author’s intent. Did Margaret Atwood write “The Handmaid’s Tale” to show the readers that she believed a Republic of Gilead was possible? Or did she write it to warn us about the truthful problems in our current society that, if left undiscussed, could lead to the events like the ones in the novel? It is fascinating to see how science fiction, although vague and ambiguous, has the potential to reveal aspects of our society we have never thought about before, and the limitless possibilities of what could be, if these aspects are left unaddressed. As Fitting mentions early on in his article, it is quite possible that there will never be a concrete definition of science fiction. But, as discussed through the analysis of both Le Guin’s and Fitting’s works, science fiction – no matter how defined– pursues to hold truth as a fundamental value to its genre.