Charlie Stross wrote this essay around this time last year called Don’t Create The Torment Nexus that I’ve been dipping into for the last few months and, well — his post is about a year back so maybe its time to actually post what I’ve been pondering?

In that essay Stross presents the challenge that oftentimes I hear related to Design Fiction as in: Why do the Design Fictions — the artifacts created, or maybe the ones I end up creating — seem to operate like critical science-fiction and, if they do, how do you possibly integrate that into the creation of new ideas and technologies with your commercial clients?

Good one! Well — I mean ‘good one’ insofar as at least this is a shared concern, and one also shared by my distant cousins in the world of science-fiction.

Okay then. Let’s get into it.

Stross’ essay, to summarize, is a critique of the relationship between Silicon Valley and Science Fiction, where tech entrepreneurs/expansive effective dreamers like Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, and Jeff Bezos often turn speculative fiction into blueprints for real-world innovation. Stross points out that many of these individuals, influenced by science fiction from their youth, have adopted its futuristic visions—like space colonization or AI singularity—without critically engaging with the deeper ethical and societal implications. The “Torment Nexus” meme serves as a humorous but telling example of this dynamic, where cautionary tales are misinterpreted as roadmaps for progress.

I should say just for a bit of context: I’m an engineer, if you didn’t know that already. I’ve got more degrees in engineering than I do in anything else, and I have three degrees. I’m not crowing about that. I’m just saying that my interests are quite firmly aligned with making things. I even started, ran, and sold a commercial product company to make a thing, and I wrote a patent myself representing the unique intellectual property/value of that thing. And now that I sold that company that made that thing, I work close to the (engineering) metal with the new owners to refine that thing. So, I consider myself quite intrigued by the art of the possible that is what generally motivates engineers, many of whom inhabit that torment nexus we’re talking about and perhaps inhabit it without fully appreciating it, or feel it but do not know how to articulate it, or inhabit the dreams of the expansive dreamers mentioned above and do not know how to comprehend that they are in someone else’s dream of what could be. So, I’m in a fasincating contingent and conflicted relationship to the Silicon Valley Stross describes. Just saying..

This uncritical adoption of speculative concepts aligns with ideologies such as ‘techno-liberalism’, transhumanism, accelerationism, longtermism and such, all of which prioritize distant futures over addressing present concerns, of decoupling from the present constraints on capital and much more sorts of ideologies that contrast starkly with present state. Stross warns that this can lead to dangerous outcomes, as these ideologies often overlook immediate societal issues in favor of grand, often incomplete dreams & visions, many of which are first stated in works of fiction, which is fascinating on its own. In this context, Design Fiction emerges as perhaps an alternative of a sort. That is, unlike the linear narratives Silicon Valley entrepreneurs derive from science fiction, Design Fiction creates speculative artifacts that provoke reflection and critical engagement with possible futures. Its goal is not to predict or build these futures but to explore their implications and challenge assumptions about where technology might lead.

This is what I think: Design Fiction, in the best operating context, raises and introduces questions rather than conclusions or predictions. Although the challenge here then becomes that ‘Silicon Valley’ does not want questions, typically: they want solutions and, preferably, solutions that can be turned into products and services that can be sold. Design Fiction, then, is a bit of a challenge to the Silicon Valley ethos, which is why it’s often a bit of a challenge to integrate into the commercial design practice. By ‘challenge’ I guess what I’m saying is that its value is not contributive to the current desired outcomes, or success conditions.

So let’s step back.

Design Fiction operates as a prototyping tool—a bridge between the imaginative worlds of science fiction and the practical realities of product design. It allows innovators to explore not just the technological possibilities but the social, cultural, and ethical consequences of their ideas. This stands in stark contrast to Silicon Valley’s tendency to view speculative futures as literal goals. Instead, Design Fiction encourages designers to engage with these futures more thoughtfully, using them as opportunities to consider broader contexts and consequences.

In a sense, Silicon Valley’s engagement with science fiction isn’t entirely misplaced—it reflects the powerful role narrative plays in shaping technological progress. However, Design Fiction enriches this process, offering a structured way to imagine potential futures without locking into one path. By prototyping entire contexts of use, not just products, it helps innovators anticipate complex user experiences and societal impacts. It turns speculative thinking into a deliberate, exploratory tool that can guide companies through the challenges of integrating futuristic ideas into real-world landscapes.

Ultimately, what I believe is taht Design Fiction offers a creative and strategic means of ensuring that the futures we build are as complex, thoughtful, and multifaceted as the imaginations driving them. Design Fiction isn’t prescriptive nor predictive. Design Fiction doesn’t say directly: don’t do what you are dreaming about. It invites one into multiple perspectives of the future, as well as articulations of the future that are not just the desired final outcomes. Silicon Valley to not only lead in innovation but to do so with deeper foresight, ensuring the technologies of tomorrow are meaningfully integrated into the societies they will shape.

When I create a Design Fiction artifact, or run a Design Fiction workshop, I’m not hoping that the ‘results’ are going to change someone’s mind so much as help us consider and reflect, and be provocative, as in provoke new ideas, insights, perspectives, questions and so forth. I’m not hoping that the Design Fiction artifact is going to be the blueprint for a new product or service. I’m hoping that it will be a kind of ‘found artifact’ from a milieu or a moment for a new way of thinking about the future, and the present, and the past, and the relationships between all of these. Maybe a bit like Dickens’ ghost of futures yet to come, where we get the advantage of being able to come back to the present and consider…

I’ll leave you with one example of Design Fiction’s ‘value’. It’s the artifact I created from the future, which I did in order to help me sell the aforementioned product company: I created an Annual Report from the Future of my company. (Actually I also did it because I was tired of doing 11 page PowerPoint pitch decks which are just such a poor container for expansive dreaming, even as they have become hygiene for trying to lure investment.) The Annual Report from the Future was a way to show prospective and potential investors what I dreamed of as to the company’s future. It’s a vivid and immersive articulation of the ideas that I had, and a more robust container for those ideas that I could really dig my self into. I spent the better part of a year doing it, in part because there was very little else to do during Covid times.

When I asked the new owners after the deal was done, they said that the Annual Report from the Future was a key reason they decided to acquire the company. It laid out a plan and a road map that was grounded in a basis of fact — the Financial Model. They, like most people, recognize that Financial Models are themselves fictions that just happen to be represented as boxes with numbers and a few graphs. But rather than just showing that I also showed a vivid representation of the possibilities for the company going forward. It showed them a future that was not just a product company, but a company that was a part of a larger ecosystem of products and services that were all connected in a clearly articulated way.

So, that’s what I’ve been thinking about. I’m going to post this now. Probably come back to it as the question percolates from time to time.