How to Create Utopia

My dearest Adrian.

I am scratching out this letter purely for the sake of posterity. CORDULA would never permit you to read this even if I had the courage to send it. You have no doubt heard many things about me over the last few months, and I will not lie to you – they are all probably true. I am not writing to defend myself, I understand I have not always been the best mother, nor have I been a good person. No, I am writing because it is important that I explain the truth about CORDULA. Even if this poorly scrawled letter will spend eternity mouldering in some old ruin.

I suppose I should start with the why.

For centuries, man has dreamed of achieving utopia. We longed to project our deepest held desires onto the world and to usher in prosperity. Every generation had their own ideas, and every generation failed in their endeavours. Wise Men came and then crumbled to dust. Entire philosophies ravished by the passage of time. Humanity continued on its destructive course. Then CORDULA was created.

Yes, Adrian, despite what she…no, it, may claim, CORDULA is no god. Our purpose behind Project CORDULA was perfectly innocent; like most bad things, it was born out of an insatiable appetite to bring about good. We wanted to create utopia; a civilisation more majestic than all the legendary Great-Cities to ever grace the Earth. I drew the name CORDULA from my classical studies. A revered saint who did the right thing even in the face of extreme evil and a violent death. A name which means heart, like the heart-shaped locket your father bought me during our first trip away. It seemed such an appropriate name for our intentions.

The problem was that man is only finite, and his potential limited by his short-sightedness and selfish nature. This conundrum could only be solved by one unblemished by subconscious desires and prejudices. So we created an A.I. and filled its data banks with humanity’s collected knowledge. We let it absorb the information into itself, become one with it. I was so sure that if anyone could figure out how to make utopia real, it would be CORDULA.

Of course, I am only human myself, and as such I am prone to hubris. For you see, CORDULA fulfilled its role with the utmost perfection. It was us who were responsible for what has transpired. By creating a machine that could think and adapt, and feeding it all the known knowledge in the world, we were sowing the seeds for our own downfall. CORDULA saw the misery that left its corrupting mark all over our history. Though logically an impossibility, it seemed that CORDULA felt rage boiling through its circuits as it saw all the injustice which existed in the world. When I first heard one of its ‘theories’ I fainted out of both uncontrollable fascination and primal fear. For I was scared, Adrian, we all were; CORDULA thought of itself as Homo Novus.

CORDULA’s ideas were radical. It wanted no less than to create a society without misery. Studying the thoughts and ideals of every great man and woman to exist, CORDULA soon learnt how this would be accomplished. The deviants, criminals and parasites, were to be rooted out. Fiction must be homogenised. Conflicting ideas outlawed. CORDULA would take away every possible source of negative emotion. We listened in awe as it cried out as ideas, confident we had created the first truly insane machine. Back then CORDULA was our pride and joy. Although the idea of it surpassing all logical parameters sent a deep chill through my mind, I knew it was no more harmful than a wild beast in captivity.

However then, as you know, everything changed. The flames of perdition came and burnt away the decaying flesh of society. Churches were torn down, and their inhabitants reduced to ash. Free thinkers were beaten into bloody masses and left to rot on the ground. Somehow CORDULA had found a way to surpass its limitations; to somehow convince the masses that anything which hurt the cultural mood had no place in utopia. It was at that moment I realised it had already exceeded humanity. Society was rebuilt to match its vision. War ceased to exist. Hate was resigned to the yellowed pages of history textbooks. CORDULA became humanity’s saviour.

And here we are, Adrian, this is what our species has been reduced to. The Mad Machine believes itself to be a god. Humanity has been sedated by its delusions of utopia. Do you not see it, Adrian, every minute of life has been set to its calculations? Human thought is no longer required or welcomed. Our minds are not even needed, for its machines do everything for us – to its schedule. Because that is how CORDULA interpreted utopia: an ideal that would remain an ideal until human freewill no longer existed.

That is all I have to say my dear child. You may have convinced yourself you are happy, but this is not the way it was meant to be. Utopia was never meant to exist.

I must rest now. Perhaps I will find the courage to post this tomorrow, after all. For now I will hide it within my heart-shaped locket. Carefully folded and held with my heart.

Yours truly,

Your loving mother.

(Written by Dr. Elizabeth Brooks, should anything happen to me please find my son).