All Systems Red

Author: Martha Wells

Publisher: Tordotcom

Platform: Paperback (purchased from bookshop.org)

Length: 160 pages

Completed on: 2/26/24

Recommendation: This was such a delightful exploration of humanity and what it means to different people.

SPOILERS AHEAD!
Read at your own risk!

Thematic Humanity

Now they knew their murderbot didn't want to be around them any more than they wanted to be around it. I'd given a tiny piece of myself away. (33)

There's a really fascinating discussion implicit in this book of how humans and androids differ on a motivational level. Humans, as humans are wont to do, humanize Murderbot and assume its aspirations are the same as theirs. They assume it has a morality system like they do. Murderbot, in turn, can reason up to a point why humans behave the way they do, but also spends the entire time thinking they're stupid as all fuck. The more a human thinks like a machine, the more Murderbot likes them.

Morals aren't a part of its equation: it dislikes killing people, though it would never think hard about why that's the case, and it ends up liking this particular group of humans, so it'll do its job well. That's the long and short of it. That reasoning is incomprehensible to the humans around it.

The humans think there's more to it; there must be, because Murderbot is human like them to some extent. To Murderbot, though, its robotic side cannot be separated from its human side (two halves that make one confusing whole, as it puts it - not two separate halves). Attempting to relate to Murderbot without understanding that is only doomed to fail (and will annoy Murderbot at the same time).

The 'Tism

There's something very methodological about Murderbot's reasoning and behavior, maintaining distance and (perceived) objectivity as best as possible. And yet it also doesn't find closeness unwelcome; it just doesn't know how to deal with it. Closeness implies different social rules, different behaviors, controlling of facial expressions - and Murderbot says this is nice, but thanks, no thanks.

It understands social rules and knows how to operate within them, but it also finds the whole thing incredibly boring. Not pointless, because knowing those rules allow it to better communicate and operate with its humans, but definitely boring. Necessary, but why is it necessary? It just is. Poor Murderbot. (And poor me, who approaches social niceties in the same way.)

Comfort in Familiarity

There are multiple instances of Murderbot's instant discomfort when out of armor. Easier to be seen as a bot. Easier to be a SecUnit. Identity assigned, just follow the rules. That leaves plenty of time to watch serials.

Every time that armor is removed is a scene of high stress and discomfort. It's a very simple narrative choice, and it's very effective. Who hasn't felt weirdly naked when stripped of core components of perceived personality? A devoted dog owner without a dog is strange and stressful. So too is Murderbot when it is exposed.

Identity

Completely and utterly fascinating how it's revealed, at the very end, that the book itself is a log that Murderbot sends to its favorite human. On some level, it's an explanation. Murderbot's favorite human deserves that much - deserves to know why it chose to leave after these humans essentially saved its life from endless servitude.

But on another, it's a desperate plea: understand me. See me. Know that you are my favorite, and by buying out my contract and being my guardian, you are admitting ownership. You want me to be free. I can't be while you own me. Living like you isn't who I am. This won't help me find myself; it will only shape me the way you think I should want to be shaped. I cannot be forced into a role again. I could not take it. I can't stay here and let you do this, no matter how much I like you. You think you are helping me, but you are not. By doing this, you are hurting me.

It was the armor that told people I was a SecUnit. But I wasn't a Sec anymore, just a Unit. (145)

Murderbot is not human. It is also not a bot. It is an android, and it can't be treated the same way as either class. Its favorite humans don't understand that, and it doesn't know how to explain how peeling away its identity has stripped it into something so uncomfortable, so naked, that it doesn't want to be seen. So instead, it leaves. Easier that way.

Favorite Parts

There are several sections where, when Murderbot gets overwhelmed, it walks into a corner to stare at a wall so it doesn't have to look at its humans but still talk to them. Honestly, mood.

I could have incapacitated myself some other way, but let's face it, I didn't want to sit around and listen to the part where they convinced each other that there was no other choice. (77)

The humans discovering Murderbot was rogue was my favorite part in the whole book. The entire section was teed up excellently and led to a really good emotional catharsis. It tied a lot of the previous thematic build-up together in a very powerful way.

[...] He finally said, "You don't blame humans for what you were forced to do? For what happened to you?"

This is why I'm glad I'm not human. They come up with stuff like this. I said, "No. That's a human thing to do. Constructs aren't that stupid."

What was I supposed to do, kill all humans because the ones in charge of constructs in the company were callous? Granted, I liked the imaginary people on the entertainment feed way more than I liked real ones, but you can't have one without the other. (116)