A number of years ago, I found myself in an on-line discussion with a reader who insisted that there was absolutely no need for a manned military perimeter on a colony world to defend against invaders landed from space. As I recall the “discussion,” his point was that either the invader had the high ground of space and could use orbital bombardment to destroy the defense perimeter or that the defenders could do the same. A number of years before that, another author wrote about the idea of smart rocks as an effective military weapon and defense. Just recently, I saw another discussion on the idea, and all of it left me shaking my head.

Orbital bombardment is a wonderful way to destroy a planet or the culture on it. I’ve done just that in one or two of my books. But so far as I can figure, it’s a terrible and cost-ineffective way to conquer or defend anything. To begin with, even small planets are big, and inhabited planets have atmospheres, gravitational fields, and probably magnetic fields. From what we’ve so far determined, for carbon-based life they also need oceans and liquid water. Now that might not be necessary for an extraordinarily high-tech civilization, but any civilization with that level of technology likely wouldn’t be worth conquering. Destroying, perhaps, if it were viciously inimical, but not conquering. And all of these characteristics, plus a few others, make dropping anything from orbit, particularly to a small point, anything but easy or simple… or cheap.

So how does one put together a “targeted” orbital bombardment? First, you need mass, and if that mass is to survive atmospheric re-entry it needs to be compact and dense, and you need enough separate chunks of that mass to reduce the objective, again assuming you’re interesting in merely taking out military targets and not leveling and churning whole sections of the planet. In a planetary orbit, exactly where does one get such mass? If there’s a moon, the mass has to be mined and broken into the right sizes and shapes. If there’s no moon, such mass must be lifted off the surface [highly unlikely, because if invaders control the orbital area, the locals won’t get that far, and if the invaders need bombardment to control the planetary surface, they obviously can’t get to the surface to obtain the mass required for bombardment]. That leaves asteroid or other out-system mining, all of which require yet more equipment and transportation methods, adding time, cost, and yet more technology.

Second, the bombardment “projectiles” need to be of almost identical size and composition in order for there to be any chance of being dropped into a re-entry path that will get them anywhere near the target. There’s also the problem and the need to compute such paths, and against a series of objects, such as defense installations, that amounts to considerably different computations… and the equipment and software to do so. Even so, in all probability, given all the variables involved, even precisely engineered objects will spread or shift in re-entry and descent so that they’ll be unlikely to land within a kilometer of the target or targets, let alone within yards. An independent guidance system, with the equivalent of steering jets, is most likely required to assure impact near the target — but that’s effectively the definition of a missile, and would require rather large factories somewhere, plus miniature AIs and fuel, etc.

In short, orbital bombardment with “sharp stones” doesn’t look too likely as a candidate for precision ground targeting, either for practical or technical reasons. And if you want to destroy the planet or the culture, you only need one smallish asteroid or comet.

While I’ve oversimplified somewhat, the point is that a number of so-called high-tech solutions advocated to replace more “conventional” weapons really won’t work in practice. Some, of course, do, but that’s when the economics, the technology, and the battlefield environment go hand in hand. When a modern jet costs upwards of $50 million, and when it costs $5 million plus to train the pilot, you can afford to lose a great number of far smaller and less expensive RPVs for the most dangerous missions, but you still can’t afford to use them against individual soldiers or terrorists on a wide-spread basis.

Recent wars and conflicts, including the drug war in Mexico, continue to illustrate the same dichotomy as the orbital bombardment issue I outlined above. Focused military high-technology is extraordinarily good at annihilating discrete objects, often quite large objects, but it is expensive to develop and deploy and has considerable limitations in dealing with smaller targets, particularly those mixed in with objects and people you don’t want to destroy. Also, using expensive high tech indiscriminately against multiple and numerous low-tech targets has a tendency to bankrupt the high-tech user.

While times and technology change, they change equally over time for the attacker and the defender, and several thousand years of military history suggests that every technology runs into limits and that both conquest and resisting conquest require soldiers with weapons, and that many wonderful ideas like targeted orbital bombardment remain wonderful ideas… and little else.

There are several underlying assumptions that all too many internet users have. Actually, there are more than several, but I’m going to discuss one aspect that is both tacitly accepted… and erroneous.

That’s the belief that the content on the web largely is and should be “free.” None of it is truly free. It can’t be, by definition. Now some content is obviously and effectively “pay-to-view.” If you want to access certain services, certain libraries, and the like, someone has to pay. I can’t access the scholarly articles on JSTOR, not without subscribing, but my wife can, IF she accesses them from her university computer, because the university has paid for that service for its faculty and staff. Likewise, because I’ve written a number of stories for Jim Baen’s Universe magazine, I can access the stories there, but she can’t, not without my password and ID. Some library systems have also paid for access to otherwise “pay-restricted” content, and if you use their computers, you also can access that material.

But…doesn’t the rest of the web offer a wide range of “free” content?

Not on your life, it doesn’t. First, there are all the ads, pop-up or otherwise. Every time you access a site with such ads or banners, that site is being supported in part or whole by advertising, and you’re paying with either delays or in reading or watching, even if momentarily, that ad content. Even on this site, which has no overt ads, Tor is paying for the site and the technical maintenance, and I’m devoting probably entirely too much time in trying to intrigue and entertain you so that you will read and buy more of my books. Just how long do you think Tor would do that if no one bought my books? Most sites by professional writers, or writers trying to be professionals, are set up and maintained for the purpose of selling the writer and his or her works. They’re “free” only in the sense that the viewer doesn’t have to come up with payment on the spot.

When the Bush Administration asked for Big Brother powers, and Congress granted them under the Patriot Act, at least some Americans rose up and asked why. Some protested the erosion of long-held civil liberties. But it seems like many of those who did so now have surrendered to the commercialized versions of Big Brother. Yes, indeed, give this advertiser or web merchant your sales profile and your tastes. Provide your address here, and your birthday here. Post all your friends and preferences there…

It wasn’t the government that destroyed the American financial system; it was the banking and commercial interests, as well as the average American, all seeking something for nothing, or for far less than it was worth. Do we have to fear that it will be the government that destroys personal privacy and possibly civil liberties? Or will we do it to ourselves for the lure of “free” content, wanting to “join our friends or online communities,” or for apparent ease of communications and shopping?

Free? Think again.

Over the past few years, there have been endless commentaries about the younger generations, and those have ranged from praising them as the most capable, most intelligent and most promising generation yet to total condemnation as spoiled brats who believe that they’re entitled to whatever they want by virtue of their mere existence. One problem with such assessments is that they all tend to be blanket judgments, and each generation is made up of a range of individuals with differing abilities and capabilities. Another difficulty with such judgments is that each up-and-coming “generation” reacts to the societal environment in which they grow up.

I see a certain amount of truth in the observation that at least a significant portion of the young people who are entering the work force or who will do so in the next few years do in fact feel “entitled” to privileges, income, and position for which they are not yet equipped. But I don’t see too many of those who are already in the work force asking, “Why do they feel this way?”

The answer, to me, at least, is that a large number of parents, and, unfortunately, also a large number of teachers who have felt forced by parental pressure, all have conveyed the message that these young people are “special,” not by dint of achievement, academic superiority, or sheer perseverance, but simply because they exist. With this has also come the totally erroneous idea that self-esteem must precede competence. Coupled with these messages is another insidious idea — that each of them can be anything he or she wants to be. Then, the third leg of this proposition is the underlying assumption that “my” child isn’t like all the others. My child is special; the others aren’t. This leads to the assumption and incredible legal pressures to bend, break, or discard the rules.

My wife is a college professor, and she has been threatened with legal action on several occasions, all of which occurred when she insisted on applying exactly the same standards to one student as those applied to others. These were not extreme standards, but the issues of attending classes and rehearsals, of turning in work on time, of being in class and taking tests. In all cases, the students involved, and/or their families, were incensed that she did not see that family picture-taking sessions took priority over dress rehearsals or tests, whose dates are were announced in writing months before, or that students who illegally used university copying equipment to print defamatory material with sexual implications against other innocent students should face disciplinary actions, or that dropping a class three-quarters of the way through the semester without doing the work resulted in failing the class. More and more often, parents are insisting that “special” circumstances apply to their children, and they’re threatening teachers and schools who don’t grant such exceptions, so much so that a number of universities have begun to hold sessions for professors, briefing them on such possibilities.

In a functioning society, there are limits. If you can’t pay the mortgage, sooner or later, you will lose the house. If you commit violent acts repeatedly, eventually you will get caught and punished. If you don’t do you job the way it needs to be done, before long you’ll be working somewhere else… or not working.

Yet many of these very same parents fret about the “entitlement generation.” And just who raised that generation?

I did break away from the computer on Sunday night to watch some of the Academy Awards ceremony… and one part of the awards absolutely appalled and floored me, and that was the award for the best original song.

It could be that I was so negatively astonished because I’ve always been under the impression that songs were supposed to have more than a dozen words, rather than the same ten repeated endlessly. Or it could be that I believe that they’re supposed to have melodies longer than a commercial jingle, and that those melodies should be better than those of a commercial jingle.

Of the three “nominees,” I don’t think any single one had a phrase longer than about four bars [maybe six?], before repeating. All had simplistic and droning repetitive rhythms, as well as equally simplistic lyrics. All three “songs” were the song-writer’s equivalent of classical music minimalism crossed with repetitive rhythm… and people claim opera is boring? Compared to what I heard on Sunday night, I’m not so certain I’d rather not sit through all sixteen hours of Wagner’s “Ring” cycle than spend fifteen minutes listening to such so-called songs… and supposedly these were the “best” of 2008?

In this light, one of the most ironic aspects of the ceremony was the music number performed by Hugh Jackman and a hundred or so others that proclaimed that “the musical is back.” Oh… virtually all the lyrics were from older musicals, cannibalized or perhaps zombie-ized, for the production. No… it appears that musicals may be resurrected by Hollywood, but they’re not being created or born because no one seems able or willing to write songs that are actually songs… or, if they can, those who produce the movies seem unwilling to include anything that’s actually an original song.

Now, I’ve seen a number of very good new movies over the past year, with a number of good songs as part of the soundtracks, or even performed. BUT…none of those songs were new or original. Where are the modern equivalents of Love is a Many Splendored Thing, White Christmas, Over the Rainbow, Moon River, You Light Up My Life, The Way We Were, The Windmills of Your Mind, or The Shadow of Your Smile? Even the losers of past years — such as Nobody Does it Better, On the Road Again, I’ve Got You Under My Skin, They Can’t Take That Away From Me, Our Love Affair, That Old Black Magic — are far better than recent winners.

Just what happened to actual song-writers? The ones who knew what melody and lyrics were and who could move listeners without the aid of gyrating dancers and near-lethal percussion?

It’s now time for the usual scramble for F&SF readers — or at least the hard-core and devoted ones — to put forth their nominations for the Hugo Awards, the annual reader popularity contest of the World Science Fiction Convention, which, by the way, will be held in Montreal in early August. As a prelude to this exercise, all sorts of “best” lists and “recommended” lists have popped up everywhere.

In looking over the reading lists that I’ve so far seen for the year, several things stand out.

First, most of the novels — well over 80% — appearing on most “recommended” lists come from “big” publishers, but most of the works that are shorter than novel length don’t come from the larger name print magazines, but from a variety of sources.

As others have observed, there’s also an increasing “British” flavor to the recommended novels. Whether this is a result of changing reviewer/recommender tastes or better British writing or just happenstance… who knows?

Another interesting fact was that, although there is no Hugo category for author collections, several recommended lists do mention them, and almost no recommended single author collection was listed as from a “major” publisher, although a number of authors with recommended collections from smaller presses are in fact novelists who are published by major publishers. This, along with the proliferation of stories recommended from smaller sources, tends to suggest that the story market is a far different market than the novel market. I can certainly recall when far more story collections were issued by major publishers.

This trend is also reinforced by the recent demise of several long-running “best of” anthologies, as well as the movement of other “best” anthologies from major publishers to smaller presses. I fretted about the decline of short fiction reading in an earlier post, and this trend seems to be continuing, with short fiction retreating to various lower-volume/total revenue venues, such as online or limited print-run magazines, so that the number of short stories published may actually have increased in recent years, without the total volume of readership increasing significantly… or perhaps even declining.

Since I clearly couldn’t read all of the books listed, my overall impressions are based on the comparative few I did read, the authors, and the summary recommendations, but I have the feeling that many of the recommended books listed as science fiction verge on the edge of adventure science fantasy, while of those listed as fantasy, few would actually fall into the “popular” definition of fantasy. I suspect this illustrates a trend more among reviewers than among readers.

All in all, it’s an interesting time in the world of F&SF… and I just hope it’s not “interesting” in the sense of that ancient Chinese curse.