Cyberpunk: Nihilism
This is the fourth and final part of a four-part reflection on the Netflix animated series Cyberpunk: Edgerunners.
In last week’s post, we looked at the drive towards constant augmentation as the cultural zeitgeist of the world of Night City and how, because it is the cultural zeitgeist, both hero and villain are entangled in its logic, though some bear the consequences of this logic more explicitly than others. Most explicit of these consequences is the endpoint of this augmentation, cyberpsychosis, and its accompanying loss of humanity.
David, our main hero, demonstrates this heroism in his willing loss of self into cyberpsychosis, so that he might save Lucy, and we witness his breaking apart, both psychically and physically, put on glorious display. We should not be surprised at this since, as indicated in the post from a fortnight ago, David is the Byronic hero of romantic literature. David is one who, practically (but not completely) on his own, takes on the full brunt of Arasaka’s military might. It is not as if he has no regard for his safety. On the contrary, he knows very well that he will die.
In a way, this foreknowledge of his own annihilation is indicative of a fourth undercurrent running through the series, namely that of nihilism, that family of commitments that holds that at the end of the day, there is no substantial meaning, purpose or foundation to the reality we experience. Indeed, at the end of the day, it is nihilism that underpins the themes explored in the previous three posts.
While there are nuances that suggest the contrary, the bulk of views tied to romanticism is premised upon the rejection of any substantial foundation to reality. For romanticism’s focus on the individual’s intuition and emotion is linked to the commitment that there are no universally recognisable foundation, no universally discernable rhyme or reason to reality, making one’s own affective assertions the sole remaining driving force in history and culture.
In addition, it is the lack of any foundation to reality that underwrites the cultural drive towards augmentation, and its accompanying metaphysics of possibilism, where what is possible is the greater reality than the concrete reality of the present. For if there is no foundation to reality, there is no present reality worth protecting, which legitimises leaving that present behind in exchange for an augmented one. Therefore, Cyberpsychosis, the annihiliation of the human person, is not a bug in the process of augmentation, but is a built in feature.
In sum, annihilation is embraced rather than avoided, and the lived experience of this nihilism is wonderfully summed up in a line by Lucy, where she tells David:
You Don't Make A Name As A Cyberpunk By How You Live…Make a name by how you die!
Nihilism can see no telos for life other than death, and because of this, the best that a nihilist can hope for is a glorious death, an annihilation that is beautiful. This lovely oblivion is provided in spadefuls by the series, with both beautiful graphics displaying David’s disintegration and a lifting replay of its anthem, “I Really Want to Stay at Your House” in the background.
