Thoughts On: Arrival

Much was made of Denis Villeneuve's adaptation of Ted Chiang's The Story of Your Life. I thought it was OK, but I didn't really enjoy it as I hoped I would or as enthusiastic reviews had led me to believe I might. From a science-fiction aspect I found the movie interesting but unchallenging. Conversations with others after the film led me to believe that this may be mostly to do with an unusual familiarity on my part with some of the subjects the film deals with.


The science-fictional aspects of the film perhaps deserve some mention. As far as I could tell there are two primary ideas underpinning the story. The first is the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, stated by Jeremy Renner's character (Ian Donnelly) in quoting Amy Adams' character's (Louise Banks) work. The essential idea is that language shapes the way we think in a very fundamental way, so that without language we are extremely limited in the thoughts that we can have, and the thoughts we do have are in turn influenced heavily by the language in which we think them. Language then gives rise to higher thoughts, cognitive reasoning, and other aspects associated with human consciousness. The converse of this is that language is also a cage, preventing our minds from thinking in ways contrary to the rules of the language. In physics it is not uncommon to come across concepts which language struggles with, leading to new terms or appropriation of old terms in new ways that is often less than satisfactory. The implication here is that it is not so much that the concepts are so difficult to grasp, but our language is not developed in a way that makes them explicable. If we had another language, one completely different from the ones used by all the various peoples on earth, it might 'open our minds'.

The second idea is that of the block universe, or the static universe. This is a conception of the universe that views it as essentially timeless: the block referring to the universe at all times, from its creation to its end. In this view, our experience of time is an illusion as we experience slices of the block universe at a time. However, the future is just as real and just as set as the past, we just have yet to experience it.

I should note that neither of these ideas are established facts. The strong form of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, that thoughts are dependent on language is certainly controversial, and is significantly undermined by the ample evidence of substantial cognitive reasoning on the part of animals that cannot be said to have any developed language. The block universe is often paraded in popular writing as though it were true, a simple extrapolation of Einstein's general relativity applied to the whole universe, but this 'simple extrapolation' is not so simple, and the notion of the universe as fundamentally timeless is fraught with challenges. Whether the block universe is the most appropriate model for the universe remains an open question.

Arrival combines these two ideas: that language can dramatically change the way we think, and that the universe is essentially timeless, in constructing its narrative. The alien language is timeless, and in learning the language, Dr. Banks begins to think outside of time. Doing so gives her fragmentary premonitions of the future. Arrival is also structured in a way intended to echo this language. The scenes are constructed almost as isolated vignettes, fading in and out while they are still going, often with a sense of broken continuity, implying that they could be viewed out of order. Some of the flashbacks (later revealed to be flash-forwards), loop back on themselves, so that threads are returned to only after interruption from some other events. As with the alien language, it is not until we have reached the end of the film that all the pieces of the puzzle can be seen to fit into place and the essential narrative becomes clear. We might be able to view the scenes out of order (although I think this is more of a suggestion than it is practicable by the film), but the meaning is only clear once all of them have been digested.

The Alien language's timelessness is treated as something wholly novel, completely 'alien' to human languages. However, I'm not so sure it's as foreign as the film would like us to believe it is. While human languages all incorporate time as a necessary dimension of their construction, the 'language' of logic and mathematics are essentially devoid of time. An equation can be read from left to right or from right to left, it makes no difference what side of the equal sign the terms are on. While operations can certainly change the meaning of a term, these do not follow in a time-like series the way linguistic operations do. Time is not absent in the mathematics of physics, but it is certainly frozen, most unlike the way we experience it. A plot of the equation of motion for a falling object shows every position of the object through time simultaneously. The equation gives the path the object takes through time, which we are then able to see in an instant of time, but in the real object each position is separate and discrete as every position occupies a different moment of time. I think that it is in part the 'timelessness' of mathematical descriptions of nature that has led to such a strong advocacy for the timelessness of the universe, rather than strong physical evidence for this being the case. The alien language then is not so alien, since we possess something not too dissimilar to it (though perhaps rudimentary in comparison) in the form of mathematics. That the alien language is timeless is meant to be a revelation, an example of how advanced their language is in comparison to ours. However, I think it's the opposite. Time (or timing, if you like), is another dimension of which language may take advantage. Other dimensions include pitch and tone. Removing a dimension may add clarity, allowing certain ideas to be expressed in a state more fitting of their nature, but on the whole I think that the effect of less dimensions is less richness, less capability to express ideas, and therefore a narrower range of thought. The fact that human languages are all 'time-bound' has not prevented us from developing the 'timeless' expressions of mathematics, and in the end mathematics can be expressed through conventional language (albeit often less clearly). Whereas the opposite is not true, it is no simple matter to construct from purely mathematical expressions language that is equivalent to those which we employ. Not to say that this task is impossible, but in becoming possible, time-fullness necessarily is introduced. I see time not as some straight-jacket that limits our ideas and potential, but rather an aspect of nature which we can and do co-opt to our own advantage, to build and create things with time-full dependency that are otherwise not possible. To my mind then, an alien language that is more advanced than ours should contain more dimensions of expression, not less, allowing for an even wider range of experience.

In any event, I found the positions taken by the film on its two big ideas and its treatment of them to be unremarkable. In the end I was left cold, I would like to say it was interesting, but I didn't find much food for thought in the end.

Where I struggled with the film was in its treatment of Amy Adams' character and her relationship with her daughter. From a certain reading it would seem that she chooses to have her daughter, with full knowledge beforehand of the disease her daughter will have and her eventual death in adolescence. While such a short life is still of course worthwhile, it is difficult for me to not see the actions of the mother in this light as anything other than supremely selfish. True she is the one who must live with the grief of her dead daughter, but she knows of this in advance as well as the benefits of being a mother. Her daughter meanwhile is simply a victim of circumstance who goes to her grave with unfulfilled aspirations, hopes, dreams, and potential. We might say that all of us go to our graves with some measure of this, but I don't think you can draw much of a comparison between someone who does in old age and someone who dies as a teenager. At the end of the day, the mother chooses to have a child knowing full well that she will not have the same benefits that she had, that her life will be cruelly cut short. Choosing this path seems perhaps the more difficult but also more rewarding path for the mother, she will no doubt grow more as a person having raised a daughter and then watched her die. But for the daughter? Would it be better if she had never lived? If I was the daughter I don't think I would ever forgive my mother, and I think I would rage against her until my death for bringing me into the world only for me to be so quickly snatched out of it. If it was in the mother's control, I don't think she made the humane choice.

From another reading though, and this I think is the reading the film wants us to take, the mother has no choice in the matter. She can see what will happen to her daughter precisely because it will happen, it forms a closed temporal loop.  The future is predetermined and free will (at least in the classical sense) is nowhere to be found. There isn't a question of whether the mother will have her daughter, that's simply destiny. She's as powerless to act on her knowledge of the future to change the future as we are to act on our lack of knowledge of the future. This reading is far more charitable to the mother I think, because she must proceed with having her daughter knowing full well what lies ahead of her. This reading also seems more consistent with what is established throughout the film.

However, such a reading bothers me I suppose because it defies a reading. It seems to assert that Whatever will happen, will happen, and leaves little for reflection.

References


Arrival. (2016) Directed by Denis Villeneuve [Film]. Hollywood, Calif: Paramount Pictures Corporation.