EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION TO
TWO EDITORIALS BY JOHN W. CAMPBELL
It is customary to call the period when John W. Campbell was editor of Astounding (later Analog) Science Fiction the Golden Age of science fiction. Perhaps to some, but to the writers it was more an age of iron. Few writers made a living at science fiction, and nearly all those did so by writing a very great many stories. In those days the magazine rates were low, but they had to do: very little science fiction was published as books.
Astounding paid the best rates; moreover, Campbell paid promptly. This was incentive enough to write for him. In fact, though, there was a more compelling reason to work with Campbell. The man was a fountain of ideas. He would discuss story ideas with authors; suggest story themes; edit the work and suggest changes and thematic expansions; and in general work very closely with the stable of writers he considered “his.”
He also wrote editorials. He wrote them almost every month, for more than twenty years; a lot of editorials. They excited. They enlightened. They enraged. None were dull. Nearly all were controversial. One doubts that Campbell believed more than half of what he said in those editorials—indeed some of them contradicted others—but he was willing to defend the notions he had put forth. You could win an argument with Campbell, but you would have no easy time of it.
Some of his notions were one-shot; ideas thrown to the winds to see what, if anything, they might inspire: letters, certainly. Stories, often enough, since writers read those editorials and rushed to write stories illustrating Campbell’s pet new notions. And once in a while he might inspire a young reader and change lives forever. He certainly did with me. I began reading Campbell’s editorials in high school and “inspired” is too gentle a word for what they did.
It wasn’t that Campbell persuaded me to his specific views. It was that he truly believed in rational discourse; in the power of human reason; in the vast future of humankind. Those beliefs permeated everything he wrote. Campbell could be, sometimes tragically was, wrong; but he was not wrong for bad reasons. Even when he was most in error he inspired and instructed. Moreover, when I thought him wrong, I could write to him and say so; and he would answer. Not only answer, but argue. Not only argue, but admit that he could be wrong. It was a heady experience.
Some themes he put forth and abandoned. To some he returned again and again. Although he had no formal training in social sciences, he truly believed that a scientific sociology was possible. You could, from a study of both history and contemporary events, deduce real truths; which could then be tested as any scientific hypothesis might be tested.
Campbell believed it possible to discover axioms of human action. Moreover, he believed that science fiction—good science fiction, the kind of science fiction he liked to buy and publish—could illustrate such axioms; that science fiction could be and indeed would be significant in the advancement of a true science of history and humanity. I’ve believed that ever since; which is one reason for these books.
Campbell had a background in engineering. He liked to describe himself as a “nuclear physicist.” In fact he never had any formal training in that subject; but then as now the self-education of many science fiction people was more valuable than much of what passes for university education. Science fiction writers often have considerable insight into not one but many exotic fields. It’s unlikely that Campbell ever could have made real contributions to nuclear science, but he did attempt to follow the literature. In fact, he followed the literature of a dozen sciences, and knew more of their interactions than most scientists ever would; and he encouraged his writers, students, and readers to do likewise.
The result was a remarkable influence over a generation. My own case will serve well enough as an example. Before reading Campbell I had not the least notion of what my future would be. After reading Astounding I knew—not the details, certainly, but I knew that I would be part of designing and creating the future, and that the future would be a great deal more than any reasonable projection of the past. Campbell, both in editorials and in the stories he bought, told us to question authority, question our assumptions, question what we thought we knew best, but at the same time to have faith in the power of reason, and thought, and human action.
I wasn’t alone. Many in my generation who became scientists and engineers were persuaded to do so by science fiction in general, and John W. Campbell in particular. Many of us went on actually to work on projects that Campbell and “his” authors only dreamed of. I will not soon forget his sheer joy when he discovered that he had not one, but many fans involved with Project Mercury.
I don’t recall John ever calling himself a teacher, but that is what he was. He taught science fiction writers: taught them to create the kind of science fiction he wanted to read. In doing so he created the Golden Age. But he did more. He taught apprentice scientists; and if they have not yet gone out to create a Golden Age in the real world, we have made a start, and there is yet time . . .
Herewith a pair of John W. Campbell’s most famous editorials.