Someday

Asimov’s first Law of Robotics states, “A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm” (Asimov, Isaac. “Runaround.” I, Robot, Bantham Spectra, 1991, pp. 25-45). This is a theoretical law that Asimov often but not always utilized in his science fiction. “Someday” has a unique relationship with this hypothetical rule. It is set in a computer-dependent society that may well operate according to those parameters. However, in the final lines of the story, the robotic Bard comes close to suggesting an eventual retaliation. Though Asimov uses ambiguity to obfuscate the true outcomes for his characters, the piece overall hints at a grave cost to Dependence on Technology gone too far.

In the short story’s examination of Conformity and Control, Niccolo represents nonconformity and, as a result, hints at what humanity has lost due to its heavy reliance on technology. The story’s opening scene is one of grim rumination. Niccolo is in the position of a thinker, “chin buried in the palm of one small hand” (27). He lies on his stomach, close to tears, as he listens “disconsolately” to the Bard. The Bard’s story, in turn, features two contrasting siblings, the older with dark hair, the younger with golden hair. The siblings are in dire circumstances: They are motherless, “in the middle of a deep wood” (27), with only their father, an impoverished woodcutter, to care for them. The moment before the older girl sings, however, Paul interrupts: “What she sang, Niccolo did not hear” (27). Which boy might correspond to which sister in the story is the first hint of Asimov’s heavy use of ambiguity throughout the piece. Niccolo seems, at first, aligned with the eldest daughter, with his own “dark eyes” and darker mood. He is also sturdier and taller than Paul. However, Paul is technically six months older and, as their dialogue will shortly reveal, far more assertive and confident. In the moment that the elder daughter’s song is interrupted in the story, Niccolo’s thinking is interrupted—Paul, instead, becomes the singer, that is, the thinker. He emphasizes his role with repetition, urging Niccolo to listen to his idea: “Wail till you hear it […] Wait till you hear it” (28).

In the following conversation, Paul’s critiques of the outdated Bard and voicing of his new idea together represent the persuasiveness of the status quo, which rules by temptation and threat of punishment. Regarding threat of punishment, Niccolo fears Paul, especially the risk that Paul might perceive him as weak: “[H]e felt that Paul’s thin cheeks never felt the stain of tears and that Paul would have only contempt for anyone else less strong than himself” (29). Harboring any affection for the old Bard, Niccolo seems certain, would constitute a weakness. Certainly showing tears would. Accordingly, Niccolo suppresses his pain at Paul’s criticisms of the Bard, swallows his anxiety about what installing the new vocabulary may do to the Bard, and hides the depth of his frustration with his family’s impoverishment. These reactions are examples of Niccolo silencing aspects of himself to remain in Paul’s good graces. In turn, regarding temptation, Paul brings Niccolo around to his idea by noting the benefits for Niccolo. Niccolo will gain power, serving as vice-president of their new club. Niccolo may also enjoy access, even exclusive access, to Paul’s new Bard. Of course, that power is limited, with Paul retaining control: Paul will be president, and he will get to select the stories.

The details dropped about the society in “Someday” also reflect The Importance of Literacy and Narrative by highlighting how absence of literacy and control over narrative support the status quo at present. For example, Paul parrots the words of his elders, making clear the profound influence of those simplified versions of events on his worldview. Paul recites with confidence Mr. Daugherty’s assessment of civilization before computers: “[I]t was just plain messy and everyone was miserable” (32). Paul shuts down Niccolo’s complaint about boring story structure by quoting his father: “[W]ithout censorship there’d be no telling what the younger generation would come to. He says it’s bad enough as it is” (31). These details comprise the larger narrative told to the boys about how their present society came to be—and why things are best this way. In addition, without literacy, the boys are unlikely to encounter stories that prompt them to question things, that is, to attempt to address their own problems without consulting a computer.

Within the context of Conformity and Control, there is also a third force besides the two boys, that is, besides the nonconforming elements of the society and the status quo: technology. The Bard is a powerful symbol related to literacy and narrative, with its meaning stemming heavily from the motif of stories. The Bard’s name alone marks it as a storyteller. Yet throughout “Someday,” at least on page, the Bard never once completes a story. This incompletion reflects the Bard’s dual nature: It’s performing a distinctly human function, yet it is ultimately technology. The line between human and technology, with the Bard, is blurred, but not entirely gone.

The Bard’s last two tales, which incorporate its new vocabulary, provide some indication of meaning regarding its ambiguous final refrain of “someday.” Earlier, Paul indicates that programming is about posing unique, rather than routine, challenges for computers to solve: “you set up problems for the giant computers like Multivac to work on” (31). The Bard, in its second-to-last tale, reflects a similar relationship between Fair Johnnie and the little computer: The computer “would tell the boy whether it would rain that day and answer any problems he might have” (34). In other words, the perspective of the current governing system, as reflected by Paul, aligns with the potential perspective of technology itself: Computers do the thinking, not humans. The Bard is therefore representative of technology in the hands of humans who have stopped practicing creativity and critical thinking. Technology, along with society, has become outdated, predictable, and incapable of progress, stuck in a loop due to its “aging and corroding vitals” (35). “Someday” is already here. The one hope is that literacy—reading and writing—may prompt the boys to find a way out of their predicament. That hope seems frail, however, given the boys’ central interests lie in power and newer technology.