The dystopian future of Hum is haunting in its familiar elements, its plausible, terrible climate-change effects, the extreme reliance on technology, and the chilling power of the ubiquitous AI hums who are constantly manipulating the extensive information they gather.
“The thing is, May,” the hum said, “the goal of advertising is to rip a hole in your heart so it can then fill that hole with plastic, or with any other materials that can be yanked out of the earth and, after brief sojourns as objects of desire, be converted to waste.”
After years working to advance artificial intelligence in a near-future dystopian world decimated by climate change, May's own job becomes obsolete.
Intelligent robots, "hums," have taken over much of the workforce, with their relentless advertisements and sales pitches, manipulative impressions of caring (also meant to promote sales of various items), and their extensive surveillance capabilities.
May finds herself willing to surgically alter her facial features for a sum that might keep her family financially stable for a time. But when she dares to dream of a brief family escape to a nature-filled wonderland (molded on tales they've heard of a lush, past world), her lack of control over her family's fate is shown to be terrifyingly tenuous.
She had used her money to wrap good things around her family, while in the city outside these walls millions of people craved those good things.
In no time at all, she would be a craver again.
I felt stressed while reading this story, with its focus on consumerism and extreme disconnectedness from nature. Citizens sign away their rights when any other option seems impossible. Reliance on technology paralyzes characters who might attempt to distance themselves from constant tracking and ad pitches. They're trapped.
The hums are without rights, controlled by invisible corporate or government groups, yet they hold immense power through their surveillance, control of funds and transfers of goods, casual manipulation, and creepily frequent, unsolicited "therapy."
May is a concerned, harried parent desperate to do her best--for children who often behave as horribly spoiled, rude, and demanding (I was dying for their parents to halt their unchecked selfishness. The power of social media and the impact of resulting perceptions in the book are chilling--and chillingly familiar. Selective coverage and edited footage set up May for social, professional, and personal ruin. Her ability to hold onto her children ultimately hinges on the whims of a hum who penetrates their inner family circle--a hum whose intentions are concerningly opaque.
Do you enjoy novels about robots and AI?
I listened to Hum as an audiobook.
Helen Phillips is also the author of The Need, a National Book Award nominee, The Beautiful Bureaucrat, and other books.
For Bossy reviews of other books about robots and artificial intelligence, please check out the posts at this link.
Comments