The Dead Past

"The Dead Past" is a science fiction short story by American writer Isaac Asimov, first published in the April 1956 issue of Astounding Science Fiction. It was later collected in Earth Is Room Enough (1957) and The Best of Isaac Asimov (1973), and adapted into an episode of the science-fiction television series Out of the Unknown. Its pattern is that of dystopian fiction, but of a subtly nuanced flavor.

Plot summary
Asimov extrapolates the twin trends towards centralization of academic research and scientific specialization, to portray a world in which state control of scientific research is overseen by a vast bureaucracy, and scholars are effectively forbidden from working outside their narrow field of specialization. Working innocently under these constraints is Arnold Potterley, a professor of ancient history. Potterley, an expert on ancient Carthage, wishes to gain access to the chronoscope, a device which allows direct observation of past events, to establish whether the Carthaginians really sacrificed children by fire.

Pioneered by a neutrino physicist named Sterbinski many years before, the chronoscope is now exclusively controlled by the government. When the government bureaucracy, in the person of bureaucrat Thaddeus Araman, denies Potterley's request for chronoscope access, Potterley sets in motion a clandestine research project to build a chronoscope of his own. Two people assist his quest: a young physics researcher named Jonas Foster and the physicist's uncle, a professional (i.e., licensed by the government) science writer, Ralph Nimmo.

As a result of this work, the team makes a series of discoveries. First, they learn that the government has been suppressing research into chronoscopy; nevertheless, Foster invents a way to construct a chronoscope that is much more compact and energy-efficient than that of its pioneer inventor. Though this discovery delights Potterley, Foster soon proves that no chronoscope can see more than about 120 years into the past. In any attempt to observe an earlier time, the inevitable noise totally drowns out the signal. The government's reports of chronoscope observations of earlier years are thus clear fabrications.

Personality conflicts and clashes of motivation cause the team members to fall out with each other. Potterley and his wife both remain disturbed by the death of their baby daughter in a house fire many years earlier, and there is the suggestion that he is subconsciously trying to exonerate the Carthaginians of child sacrifice as a way of exonerating himself of the possibility that he accidentally started the fire which killed his daughter. When he sees his wife's reaction to the chronoscope, and realizes that she would use it to obsessively watch their daughter's short life, he alerts the authorities and accepts the blame. His associate, Foster, now in the grip of intellectual pride and zeal for the cause of free inquiry, attempts to publish his breakthrough but is suddenly and unexpectedly apprehended by Thaddeus Araman, the bureaucrat who rejected Potterley's original research request.

As Araman attempts to secure a promise from Foster not to persist in publication, Foster's uncle, Nimmo, is brought in. Nimmo proves just as rebellious and intractable as the other two, and Araman, frustrated by their unwillingness to cooperate, has no alternative but to declare the government's hand. He reveals that Foster has been apprehended through the government's own use of the chronoscope in snooping on the plotters.

Araman reveals that the government chronoscopy agency, far from suppressing scientific research out of blind authoritarianism, was trying to protect the people in the only way they knew how. As Foster and Potterley have learned, the chronoscope is inherently limited to recent times&mdash;but what if, instead of focusing it upon the distant past, it were tuned to the past of one-hundredth of a second ago? The dead past, Araman says, is only a synonym for "the living present". If the plans for a chronoscope, particularly Foster's new and improved version, ever reached the general public, the resulting plague of voyeurism would effectively eliminate the concept of privacy. Even the government workers now assigned to the chronoscope, Araman says, sometimes transgress regulations and use it to spy for personal purposes.

Nimmo then reveals that in an attempt to take the pressure off Foster, he has already sent the details of Foster's chronoscope to several of his regular publicity outlets. The details of how to build a chronoscope relatively easily and cheaply are now available to everyone.

Araman is resigned to the exposure of the chronoscope, and leaves the three academics with the insightful line: "Happy goldfish bowl to you, to me, to everyone, and may each of you fry in hell forever. Arrest rescinded."

Analysis
The story's twist—that the man from the government really was there to help—qualifies the idea that a world of directed research really constitutes a dystopia. Asimov's thesis, revealed in the final scene, is that central control of scientific research is not necessarily immoral, but that in the long run, it may be impossible after all. The character of Thaddeus Araman is a recognizable dystopian spokesman in the mould of Beatty in Fahrenheit 451 and Mustapha Mond in Brave New World, both of whom also acknowledge the limitations of their societies' control mechanisms.

However, reviewer Max Brown noted that "In the final scene, the government man admonishes the protagonists for creating 'a fishbowl world' in which privacy had ceased to exist. In fact, however, such a world already existed for two generations—only that invading privacy was hitherto a government monopoly. The chronoscope in fact gave the government far more of an omniscient power than even the notorious telescreen of Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four. The only thing the protagonists did was to break the government monopoly of this awesome power and let the 'fish' see each other. ... Asimov's basic premise is that well-meaning government officials, possessing the total power of knowing what anyone at any time was doing, would for two whole generations be able to restrain themselves from abusing that power. Frankly, I don't possess such a confidence in human nature. I would certainly not want the government to have such a power for two years, let alone two generations."