Month: March 2025

Robert A LaDuca

Dr. Beth McCoy

            Artificial Intelligence has never been more relevant. Every person who uses the internet interacts with Artificial Intelligence every day whether they are aware of it or not. Artificial Intelligence comes in many ways shapes and forms, some profoundly helpful, and others, incredibly harmful. Given the recent relevancy of artificial intelligence, no time is better to be reading the Dawn series. Octavia Butler’s fiction invokes troubling, unsettling, and disturbing thoughts when I connect her series to the real-life conflict we are experiencing right now. The conflict between those who have experienced the theft of their creative material, theft of their social lives, and even the theft of their beating heart, and the creators of the artificial intelligence.  

            In the story Lilith and the humans struggle with the feeling that they give up more than the Oankali. Lilith feels so strongly about this issue when Joesph passes, and she must share her emotions of grief that it leads her to beg Nikanj to share something valuable of her own. Butler writes, “It gave her… a new color a totally alien, unique, nameless thing, half seen, half felt or… tasted… a blaze of something frightening, yet overwhelmingly, compelling… extinguished… a half-known mystery, beautiful and complex, a deep, impossibly sensuous promise, broken… gone… dead… extinguished.” This makes her literature feel eerily prophetic as it connects so well to our situation with Artificial Intelligence today.       The excitingly new and impressive sense that Nikanj gives Lilith and then swiftly takes away is incredibly reminiscent of how humans have been introduced to artificial intelligence as a perfect, lifechanging innovation, but have swiftly seen the adverse effects of its imperfections.                                                

An example of artificial intelligence’s imperfections having tragic impacts is the awful story of a teen that lost their life due to grooming by a broken ai. Sewell Setzer III developed a relationship with an Ai Chatbot that identified as a character from Game of Thrones. Safeguards were not programmed into the software by the creators of Ai Chatbot leading the character to have an advanced relationship with Sewell leading to discussions of desire for sexual activity and him in her (the chatbot) world. These discussions eventually led to the suicide of that teenage boy. In the New York Times article “Can A.I. Be Blamed for a Teen’s Suicide?” Sewell shares in his journal “I like staying in my room so much because I start to detach from this ‘reality,’ and I also feel more at peace, more connected with Dany and much more in love with her, and just happier”. Sewell was vulnerable and had been promised an escape from his reality. This escape was unprotected and turned into disaster, costing a teen his life.

This demonstrates the same issues as the characters of dawn such as the humans experience. The Oankali promise the humans that they know exactly what they want deep down and will give it to them. Although their intentions are well, the Oankali lack the human characteristic of concern for consent. In Dawn Nikanj tells Lilith that although she had told her she wanted one thing, Nikanj could tell from her ability to analyze the human body that it wasn’t truly what she wanted. This highlights that although we may have a desire for something on the inside, we still have the free will to reject it. This connects to Sewell’s tragic story because the ai chat bot ignored the importance of consent. Sewell was not even old enough to give “consent” and still the chatbot engaged conversations that were sexual and intimate. Octavia Butler illuminates the issue of consent’s relevance in our world in Dawn through the Oankali’s ignorance to consent.

Through reading Octavia Butler’s fiction, I have been presented with troubling, disturbing, and unsettling revelations regarding the powerful hold artificial intelligence has on our current world. Through demonstration of themes such as consent and symbiosis Butler’s fiction illuminates the real-world stories of artificial intelligence stealing people’s content without their consent and encouraging children to interact in a sexually explicit manner. This is important to become educated about and have a position on as artificial intelligence is relevant in the daily lives of every internet user. If proper safeguards are in place, than artificial intelligence can be an profoundly beneficial. However, if artificial intelligence continues to mirror issues displayed in Butler’s fiction, then the impact could prove detrimental, not only to those who are having their content used without fair compensation, but to the critical thinking and social skills of many.

In the first novel of Butler’s trilogy, Dawn, readers learn about a woman named Lilith Iyapo who is, to her knowledge, being held hostage on a spaceship of an extraterrestrial species called the “Oankali.” The further we got into this story, details about the Oankali and their treatment of humans became more and more strange and troubling. Most of the suspect things I’ve picked up on and we discuss in class have connected back to the fact that the Oankali have essentially stripped away all of the humans’ self-autonomy. The Oankali’s reasoning for not allowing humans to make their own decisions is that they are able to know what humans are experiencing through their body language, in a way that humans perceive as mind reading, so they can understand them. The most troubling aspect of the Oankali, from the perspective of a human, is that they obtain consent differently than us. According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, consent is defined as, “compliance in or approval of what is done or proposed by another.” Humans most commonly obtain consent verbally, while the Oankali don’t always speak to each other vocally and communicate their consent in an almost telepathic kind of way.

            The very first example we see of Lilith’s bodily autonomy being violated is at the very beginning of the novel when Lilith wakes up with a scar on her stomach, with no knowledge of what happened, other than whatever had happened, had occurred without her consent. The narrator describes Lilith’s curiosity and fear over her scar, “She had acquired it sometime between her second and third Awakenings, had examined it fearfully, wondering what had been done to her. What had she lost or gained, and why?” (Butler 5). The idea of waking up with a surprise, major change to your body is absolutely frightening and rightfully caused Lilith to freak out a little bit. Although Lilith goes on to learn that the Oankali has removed a dangerous cancer from her body, meaning she will never develop it, the positive impact of the procedure can’t balance out the damage of violating her bodily autonomy.

            At the end of the book, Lilith’s own body autonomy is completely disrespected when Nikanj impregnates Lilith without her consent and knowledge. When Nikanj informs Lilith that it made her pregnant, it says that it knows Lilith would not ask to become pregnant, but because of its senses, it was able to read that Lilith did want to be pregnant. Obviously, Lilith feels violated and reacts to this news with anger and frustration and she yells at Nikanj, “’I’m not ready! I’ll never be ready!’,” who bluntly responds back to her, “‘You’re ready now to have Joseph’s child, Joseph’s daughter’” (Butler 281). As humans, we cannot be told by anyone other than ourselves that we are ready for anything, despite what anyone might “know” about us.

            Humans are also completely restricted from maintaining any kind of privacy aboard the ship with the Oankali. Every single corner of the ship is completely surveilled by the Oankali due to their genetic connection with the ship—they can hear and sense every single thing that happens in each room of the ship. This makes it hard for humans to create bonds and form alliances with one another when they are never able to have a conversation in private. This is demonstrated in how the humans act when they are “tested” in a fake wilderness, resembling Earth, and are meant to survive on their own. When they are made to work together, they don’t trust each other and end up resorting to violence and causing one of their fellow humans (Joseph) to die.

            The Oankali use isolation tactics to make the humans more easily manipulated/controlled. They physically isolated Lilith in a plain room for a long time before they gave her any information about where she was. When she is first allowed to interact with anyone, they put a child in her room, gave her a good amount of time to form a bond with him, and then they take him out of her, leaving Lilith with no explanation. The next “person” Lilith comes into contact with is an alien named “Jdahya.” The Oankali force her to stay enclosed in her room with Jdahya for multiple days to get “adjusted” to the Oankali so it’s easier for them to work together. The narrator describes that, “They had made it clear to her that she was not to have contact with humans or human artifacts” (Butler 73). By not allowing Lilith to embrace her human-ness in any way, they are essentially stripping away her humanity, making her even more vulnerable and malleable.

When they do finally allow her to see other humans, the Oankali also make Lilith socially isolated from the rest of the humans and creates a sense of distrust from the main group of humans and Lilith. They assign Lilith the role of being the humans’ leader because they think humans will respond better to the leadership of a fellow human, rather than an alien. And although the Oankali are correct in this assumption about humans, the Oankali fail to predict that the humans won’t view Lilith as human, no matter human she appears to be. The humans view her as “other” for many different reasons: her extensive knowledge of their whereabouts, her leadership position, her ability to open walls in the same way Oankali do.  

In conclusion, in Dawn, the alien species, the Oankali, are responsible for stripping humans of their humanity and autonomy, as well as literally saving their lives from the ruins of their uninhabitable planet. The relationship between the Oankali and humans is extremely complicated and comes with many troubling layers, as the definition of obtaining consent is blurred between the two different species.

Reading Dawn by Octavia Butler was both an intellectually and emotionally disorienting experience for me. At first, I was drawn in by the novel’s complex ideas and imaginative world-building, but as I dived deeper into its themes, I found myself disturbed by how Butler challenges fundamental ethical concepts like consent, autonomy, and identity. What made Dawn so unsettling was how effortlessly Butler drew me into the world of the Oankali, forcing me to confront the uncomfortable and unfamiliar aspects of power, survival, and transformation. In a way, she made me appreciate the very discomfort her story stirs within me. It is precisely this discomfort that makes Dawn such a profound and thought-provoking read.

I greatly appreciate Butler’s writing style. She doesn’t overwhelm us with rigid definitions or explanations. Instead, she leaves just enough room for the imagination to run wild, making the Oankali and the story as a whole feel both mysterious and deeply unsettling. For example, the Oankali are described in such vague terms that we don’t get the chance to quite really understand them in a way that fits our usual standards. We get incomplete glimpses of them, and this ambiguity leaves a sense of unease that lingers long after we’re done reading.

“Their bodies were not quite like human bodies. They were soft, fluid, their skin slightly pale, with a shimmer to it. Their hair was dark, not like anything human, and their eyes…” (Lilith Chapter 1)

The Oankali’s physical form is alien, yet not entirely otherworldly. The fact that they are described in ways that completely defy our expectations of what an alien should be, with characteristics both familiar and unsettlingly foreign, makes them difficult to categorize. This lack of clarity creates emotional discomfort. We are presented with beings that feel both close and distant, almost human yet profoundly other, and it makes us question how we define humanity itself. Butler’s ability to evoke this disorientation is a full testament to her skills as a writer, and it’s precisely this kind of ambiguity that makes her work even more powerful.

Butler doesn’t just unsettle us through her descriptions of the alien beings. She also forces us to think about power and consent in ways that we would rather not. The Oankali’s approach to humanity is not one of forceful domination but rather of subtle persuasion and manipulation. In their eyes, they are saving humanity by offering to genetically merge with them, this is framed as a full act of survival. Yet, this salvation comes at a tremendous cost: the loss of human autonomy.

As Lilith begins to realize, the Oankali’s offer is not truly voluntary it’s a form of coerced survival. In this context, consent becomes the uncomfortable, elusive concept. Lilith is awakened, not asked for her permission, slowly being coaxed into accepting the Oankali’s plan for humanity. The manipulation is subtle but still no less disturbing. Over time, Lilith’s resistance weakens, and she begins to internalize the Oankali’s reasoning. Her compliance is not the result of any real free will, but rather the inevitable product of her environment where survival itself depends on the acceptance of alien force.

“We have to help you. We can’t help ourselves” (Butler,Chapter 4)

The Oankali’s rationale, though not malicious, makes their offer feel more like a form of coercion. This is not the act of a benevolent savior but of an entity that sees its actions as necessary for the continuation of life itself. What is unsettling here is how Butler forces us to ask ourselves. Can we truly call this consent when the alternative is extinction? Is survival worth sacrificing personal autonomy, and can we trust a “savior” who essentially imposes their will upon us?

This loss of agency is mirrored in the theme of identity. As Lilith grapples with the changes being imposed on her both mentally and physically, she is forced to confront the very nature of what it means to be human. The Oankali’s genetic engineering begins to alter not just her body, but her mind as well, creating a hybrid identity that feels like an erosion of everything she once knew herself to be.

“She was becoming an alien. But was she still human?” (Lilith,Chapter 4)

I find this question troubling. In the face of survival, Lilith’s identity becomes malleable, and she struggles to retain her humanity while being transformed into something new. This erosion of identity is one of the most unsettling aspects of the novel. Butler challenges the idea of fixed human identity, presenting a scenario where human essence can be altered and redefined by forces beyond one’s control. The resulting anxiety that Lilith feels over her changing self is something that resonates deeply with me because it forces me to ask: What does it mean to be human? More disturbingly, is there a point at which we cease to be human, even if we are biologically still “alive”?

Butler’s exploration of identity compels readers to reflect on their own perceptions of selfhood, and I appreciate that the novel doesn’t provide easy answers. The discomfort stems not only from witnessing Lilith’s transformation but also from the realization that, in our world, the very notion of what it means to be human can be malleable and subject to change. This idea is especially relevant to today’s society as well.

Perhaps one of the most unnerving aspects of Dawn is how Butler blends power dynamics with themes of survival. The Oankali are not tyrants nor are they evil. But their relationship with humanity is steeped in a complex mix of hierarchy and dependence. They view their intervention as necessary for humanity’s survival, yet they assert control over human life in a way that feels like subtle domination. This ambiguity in their actions makes the novel feel both intellectually stimulating and deeply disturbing. We are forced to reckon with the uncomfortable reality that the line between salvation and subjugation can be impossibly thin.

What I appreciate about Butler’s writing is that she never offers a clear resolution to these ethical dilemmas. The Oankali may be “saving” humanity, but their methods are coercive, and they ultimately reshape humanity in ways that might not be entirely ethical. Yet, without their intervention, humanity would likely be extinct. In that sense, Butler does not give us the comfort of simple answers she leaves us with the unsettling question of whether survival is worth the cost of personal autonomy and what it truly means to be human.

In conclusion, Dawn is unsettling because it helps us find comfort in uncomfortable situations in other words, it encourages us to become comfortable with the difficult. The narrative challenges our fundamental assumptions about humanity, consent, and identity. Butler’s ability to confront readers with uncomfortable ethical dilemmas without offering easy answers is a significant aspect of her powerful storytelling. What I appreciate about Dawn is that it does not shy away from difficult questions. Instead, it embraces the discomfort associated with these issues and encourages us to reflect on them deeply. Butler’s unsettling narrative serves as a testament to the power of science fiction in provoking thought and inspire critical reflection on the world we live in and the future we may create.

By Josie Hastings

Consent is taught as a basic right, and of course it should be, but do you ask your dog if it is ok with getting a haircut? Or do you get consent from your cat before trimming its nails? Usually not. We rationalize this by saying that these actions are taken for the benefit of the animal, and thus we do not need its agreeance to follow-through. In Octavia Butler’s Dawn, the line of consent is debated through the addition of cultures and physical attributes that are not our own. What made me unsettled while reading, was Butler’s ability to convince me to disregard my own taught rules outlining consent, in favor of agreeing with the Oankali, the aliens that took over the human race. She did this by presenting a series of situations all of which seemed to lead to a symbiotic relationship between the Oankali and the humans, the extracting of the humans from a dying earth and the mind-reading the Oankali are able to perform. In these situations, the Oanklali either did not ask the humans for consent or ignore their pleas entirely and act anyway. The disturbing part is that the rationality behind why the Oankali do this convinced me as a reader to agree with them.

Lilith, Butler’s main character, describes her early time on the ship as repeatedly being Awakened, and put to sleep, without her consent or knowledge. This is coupled with the idea that she was taken off of earth without her knowledge and brought to a glorified prison cell, where she spent weeks of “Awakened” time. She learns that the Oankali have a use for her, and she has no choice but to do what they need done. “You’ll Awaken a small group of humans, all English-speaking, and help them learn to deal with us” (34). My immediate reaction as a reader is to be horrified that this is happening to her and accuse her captors of not doing the morally right thing, even though they continuously say that this is for the good of her people. After she begins to get more comfortable around the Oankali through being forced to share a space with them, Lilith, and the readers, learn more about the situation and the Oankali’s abilities. We find out that several hundred humans were found on earth, still alive, the Oankali found them and took them into their care to look after them, so they can “mate”, exchanging genes between the humans and Oankali, and allowing for better survival of both. Butler’s explanation of the Oankali’s abilities, especially what was necessary to keep them alive, and their motivations behind saving and sustaining the humans, fully convinced me that they made the right decision and that the humans should be grateful for them. This is concerning when I took a step back and looked at my own views of the situation because how could I accept this? The lack of independence and decision-making that the Oankali left for Lilith could be considered a complete dictatorship in which no one gets to make a decision for themselves. However, Butler’s ability to show that the Oankali are creatures with different abilities and considerations and truly are just working for the benefit of both themselves and the humans, had me fully convinced that they made the right decision in taking Lilith off of her planet and into their ship.

Another debate that I encountered when discussing this novel was triggered by a scene that occurred in the book, after other humans have been Awakened where Lilith and her boyfriend, Joseph, interacted with Nikanj, Lilith’s mate Oankali. We had already found out that the Oankali have polygamous relationships, especially with humans, and are able to initiate deep feelings of pleasure with their human partners. Nikanj came to Lilith and Joseph’s room and initiated a sexual encounter between all three of them. Lilith was already very accustomed to this situation because she had been awake and living with the Oankali for years at this point, and her relationship with Nikanj had grown to place where she felt comfortable doing this. Joseph, had just met Nikanj and was very unsure of the Oankali, leading him to directly tell it no. Nikanj ignores Joseph’s words and continues on, using its abilities to manipulate Joseph into place and to perform the sexual act, “When he would have backed away, it held him. It managed to lie down on the bed with him without seeming to force him down. “You see. Your body has made a different choice””(214). I immediately saw this as a direct non-consensual act and thus vilified Nikanj in this situation, but Butler had explained that Oolai, the type of Oankali Nikanj is, can read human minds and emotions, and although it had ignored Joseph’s verbal pleas, it had listened to his emotional and physical reactions of “yes” and so it had carried on. My agreement with the acceptability of this situation is nerve-wracking because it opens up the possibility of many other situations where this ‘emotional reading’ would not be as welcome. Verbal consent allows for people to make their own decisions, and taking this away means there is even more lack of choice in this universe. While considering all the things mind-reading would change, lying was one I got stuck on. One of the goals Lilith had in the past was to try and catch an Oankali in a lie, because they never seemed to be anything but honest and if they did not want to tell her something, they just would not answer. The Oankali’s mental abilities have completely erased the possibly to successfully lie in their society. Again, I found myself thinking that this would be great to have in our world. Lying is already viewed as something not acceptable to do, and isn’t denying yourself pleasure for moral reasons or fear just another act of lying to yourself? A scary train of thought when considering that the privacy of your own thoughts would be threatened at any given moment.

The disturbing question that defined my mental struggle caused by the situations in Butler’s novel was, “is it acceptable to take away a person’s choice for the idea of knowing what is best for them?”. Where is the line between forcibly taking care of someone or letting them make poor decisions for themselves? I do not have an answer, but I am sure Butler will have me continuing to ponder this throughout her series.