Snowpiercer: The Anthropocene comes off the rails

Snowpiercer[1] is a science fiction movie - based on a graphic novel – set in a future in which humankind has mistakenly cast the Earth into a deep ice-age while attempting to tackle climate change with a form of geo-engineering which involved injecting a fictional chemical (CW17) into the atmosphere. Within 30 years the only humans left alive are those occupying a self-contained and “over-engineered” tourist train which circumnavigates the entire world each year via a specialised track linking every continent. The human survivors are divided among many carriages with a strict class hierarchy.

The film describes a revolt by those in the rear of the train who - we soon discover - subsist on processed cockroaches; and the journey of the revolutionaries through the entire train to the engine. In each carriage director Joon-ho Bong neatly tells a short story using a diverse range of genres and filmic techniques. Yet the overall plot moves ever forward, linking the movie together with a forceful drive.

We are never told why the train must keep moving, but the deadly results of getting off the train are illustrated repeatedly and graphically. So the central metaphor of the movie is that a small group of people (the ‘driver’ and his close associates) effectively control the living conditions of the entirety of humanity. This reflects exactly the spaceship earth analogy of a geo-engineered Anthropocene with a ‘control panel’ for the climate and other biogeochemical systems. Snowpiercer explores a horribly plausible version of such a future in which hierarchies are stricter and social mobility halted. Respect for the driver (the film's metaphor for the scientific and engineering elite) becomes a matter of faith. Strong social regulation is enforced through both ideological education and – where necessary – violent force.

Moreover the film illustrates neatly the fear that once humans take control of earth systems, we will be forced into repeated further interventions to try to maintain balance. The train’s circular journey reinforces that idea as problems repeat themselves. The train’s hierarchy adopts an eco-fascistic approach to imposing ‘ecological balance’ not only on the fish tanks we see in one carriage, but on the human population of the train. It is even claimed by the driver (played by Ed Harris) that the uprising was encouraged as an excuse for such a cull. Whether we accept this claim or not, the intended metaphor is clear: having been pushed way out of balance, ecological and social systems do not lend themselves to such neat control, teetering rather on the edge of ecological and social disintegration.

The train’s repeated journey also offers another metaphor, although less obviously intended. The train represents pointless eternal economic growth – always hurtling forward yet doing nothing to reduce inequality. The fact that we are never told why the train must keep moving, in the same way we are encouraged never to question why we need to keep the economy growing, reinforces this parallel.

[spoiler alert: the following paragraphs reveal critical plot details]

Ultimately, though, the film is not about these metaphors – powerful and stimulating as they are. Snowpiercer is about ethical choice and moral growth. As the film progresses we see and learn of some of the horrific and in some cases immoral deeds our hero (Curtis, the reluctant leader of the uprising – played by Chris Evans) has committed. We are being prepared for his temptation to replace the driver as a new dictator for the train. Yet we also learn that vital parts of the ‘perpetual’ engine have already worn out, and the only way the train keeps going is because a critical part has been replaced by a sequence of children small enough to fit into the tight spaces in its structure (think Victorian chimney-sweeps, but way more critical). Curtis has to choose, and in the end makes the ethical choice[2], even though in releasing the child in the engine, he brings the train to a crashing halt, sending the Anthropocene ‘off the rails’, and -as far as we viewers know - dooming every human left alive to death by freezing.

In the final scenes however, we see survivors of the crash (an African child and an Asian woman) and a polar bear passing nearby. Apparently, at least in this part of the world, the freeze was never so deep that the ecosystem was completely destroyed. Where polar bears can survive, so might humans, albeit with a massive effort of adaptation. So we close with yet another climate metaphor: that perhaps – facing the prospect of severe climate impacts, and having failed to mitigate adequately - humanity should look to adaptation rather than dicing with the grave uncertainties of climate engineering.

Of course, Snowpiercer is fiction, and the scenarios it explores are – perhaps – amongst the most extreme imaginable as a consequence of climate change or climate engineering. It therefore also reminds us as responsible scientists to beware of the power of narrative to frame debates and influence those viewing or listening. The ethics of climate engineering research are not to be found only its potential material consequences. I hope to revisit the ethics of narrative in a future blog, but finally I want to reflect on one further possible interpretation of the Snowpiercer story.

Stephen Gardiner (here) has written about the moral corruption of climate change and climate engineering. Snowpiercer also provides a possible example of excessive moral corruption. Was the reason the train could never be allowed to stop because it was somehow producing and dispersing more CW17? Was the world frozen because the elite hierarchy in the driving seats were so addicted to their power over humanity that they were prepared to do anything to remain in control? The film clearly implies they respected no ethical limits – had they already crossed this final line?

[1] Snowpiercer was released in Korea in 2013 but only in the US in summer 2014. It still has no scheduled UK release date.

[2] I refer here to a virtue, rights-based or liberal approach to ethics, rather than a pure utilitarian or consequentialist one.