I’ve been wandering the Wastelands for three months now and I’ve come to a conclusion. There is no God.
The Wasteland
Let me tell you what happened today. I was heading south along the river, walled in on the left by decayed office buildings. I remember thinking how beautiful they looked in the falling sunlight.
Suddenly I saw Mutants. They had a captive, and she was bound up, blindfolded, kneeling on one side of their camp. I thought, I’ve got to get her out of there.
There was no way to avoid a fight. Before I knew it they were on top of me. One of them came at me with a sledgehammer, and I prayed with every blast of my shotgun that he would fall before he reached me.
But then something else happened. Somehow in the chaos somebody threw a grenade. It bounced near my feet, then rolled past me as I leaped aside. I heard it pop behind me, but I didn’t have time to look.
After I turned the Mutants’ heads into spaghetti I went back for the captive. I found her in pieces. The grenade—she never saw it coming.
That’s when I knew. Nobody’s looking out for us. Nobody made this world. Nobody’s telling this story—it just happens like it happens.
In my heart I’ve known ever since I stepped out of the Vault and looked out over the polluted carcass of what used to be Washington D.C. There was something lovely about that scene too. A golden light lay over the shoulders of the hills. A rusted water tower reflected the blue sky. A dust devil teased the earth along the path in front of me. Then I walked up between some boulders, and a feral dog nearly ripped my throat out. I had to beat it to death with a police baton—couldn’t get the blood off for three days.
Now I’ve been out here three months and can’t see my own skin for the muck and the grime. Still searching for my Dad, I tell myself. But who am I kidding? I’ll never find him. If the Mutants haven’t got him, the Yao Guai have.
At first I told myself that Fate would guide me. When I looked into the faces of the people around me—the people I knew and loved growing up in the Vault—I saw beauty and mystery and spirit. These faces, these eyes, the light behind these eyes, were not random happenstances of chemistry or science. Someone made these people, directly or indirectly. Someone was telling a story through them and through me. Whoever that Someone was would make it all come out all right. Even if I died, I would die heroically. But I wouldn’t die—no one I loved would die. I would prove myself the hero of this story that Someone was telling.
That was then. What a self-righteous, stuck-up little chump I was! And naive, so terribly naive.
Then I met the raiders, watched their brains splatter on the rotting concrete—one by one, day after day. The slavers and their tortured slaves. The rats, the scorpions, the Deathclaws. All the poisoned freaks who haunt this hell hole. They taught me, without words but undeniably: There is no story here. No God. No Designer. This world just happened. It’s just happening. It’ll just keep on happening, because there’s Nobody to put it out of its misery.
A few weeks ago, I met a tough, smart fighter named Sydney in the ruins of the National Archives. She carried a mean SMG and knew more about ammunition than anyone I’d met. We teamed up to find an old, valuable document—”The Declaration of Impediments” or something.
Her dad had left her behind, too. When she was fourteen, he went out and just never came back. “Never even said goodbye,” she said. “Do I have to tell you what it’s like for a young woman alone in the Wasteland at that age?” Boy, that stuck with me.
Then a few days later I was exploring an old building downtown and came across a skeleton curled up on a cot. Next to the corpse was a recording of Sydney’s father that he hoped would somehow reach her. It explained everything. He had gone out to do some business, the deal went bad, bullets were exchanged, he took one in the gut. He had just enough time to tell her that he loved her, that he never meant to leave her, and that he had faith she would make it.
So Sydney grew up hating the father who loved her, fending for herself in a vicious world where the only language anyone understands travels at 896 feet per second.
Now what kind of God would let that happen?
I’m not looking for my father any more. I’m going where he has gone, following in his footsteps, doing what I’m supposed to do to someday catch up with him. But I know he’s gone.
This story can have no happy ending, no resolution. This world is too cruel, too grotesque for me to believe it has any Storyteller but Mr. Luck and Mrs. Chance.
I’ll keep wandering the Wastelands, because that’s what my body and brain tell me to do. But don’t talk to me about Fate or God or Destiny or Designer. If he ever existed, he died when the bombs fell.
Or maybe he just walked out. Like Sydney’s father. Like my father.
43 Comments
Enjoyed your post!
Really nice article!
Maybe this is why I much prefer Oblivion’s world to that of Fallout? Sure, it is greener and less imposing – but you could always appeal to the God’s as well. Find your way to them. Make an offering for luck or speed, or maybe even do their bidding in exchange for a magic item.
In Fallout I have myself and a dog. The dog can die.
one time I was playing pacman and i realized that the bad guys were actually ghosts. what else could i do with that kind of evidence? i had to believe in a spiritual world!
I know how you feel man, but just because there is no god doesn’t mean much, I mean if there was a God at some point, he let the bombs fall, so to hell with him!
But just because there is no God doesn’t mean there is no Good. Strange little Moira and her strange little book, Three-Dog and his constant urging to the wastes to fight the good fight and even the Knights of Steel (for all the good they do sometimes, but I’d been collecting pre-war books, so caps to me) and you, if you play your cards right.
As someone who has been wandering around the wastelands for a few weeks, I see this world as a battle between compassion and amorality. The raiders, the mutants, the slavers, even the critters, they’re just out there for survival any way they can. Where as the settlers, friendly ghouls, caravaners and random scattered friendly humans are about etching out a life that allows them to survive and thrive in a community/society. Then there is you, if you’re anything like me, you’re out there doing what your doing for own survival and the survival of others, and there is no greater good.
Keep fighting the good fight my friend, I feel your time in the wastes will lead to something great.
Interesting thoughts, Katie.
Here’s a question: Why should I prefer good to evil? Is there some greater reward to doing good? If no, then why do it? If yes, then I wonder: why is good more rewarding than evil? Is it something about nature itself that rewards good? Or is there some external force–some Designer or Law–that sees good and rewards it? And if it’s not a God that rewards good–if it’s only Nature–then why should Nature be this way? Why shouldn’t nature reward evil? After all, it looks to me like nature only respects power, strength, and survival.
Okay, not a question, but a tree of questions. Still, I’d like know your answers.
I like Oblivion better because of the enviorment, and everyone is nice and friendly in it. Fallout 3 is dark and barren, pretty good game, but not too appealindg to me because of all the dread.
I haven’t played Oblivion but from what I’ve seen, it’s awesome. I actually rather like the dreadful atmosphere of Fallout 3—I like dystopic movies like Bladerunner too. But you’re probably mentally healthier than I am.
Oh, and would someone please tell me that you get the joke that this post hinges on? I’m getting nervous that everyone’s taking the “there is no God” theme too simplistically.
That was beautiful man. nice writing.
There is not god of love.
There is only one force you can trust in the wastes. Integrity.
You will know what is right. Do it. Maybe one day the whole Capital Wasteland can be like Oasis.
…But only if we do the right thing.
Jeff.. don’t worry I get it, and wonder if you’re meaning that even though terrible things happen in the real world, you’re still considering the possibility someone has designed it.
I disagree, but hey, it’s an interesting thought!
This was actually entertaining
.
Well done. I’ll be thinking of this when I’m out wandering near Arefu, today.
Great reading. Could be a great story for science fiction writing.
Booo. thumbs down
wow…that was amazing, inspiring, I’m never going to play fallout with seeing it like that
God gave us Fallout 3, God is good.
Thank you, Pete. My work here is done.
But it looks like you’re in the vast minority. Still, if people are enjoying the story, there’s a lot of value in that.
Wow, that was… amazing… I fell really sad now.
I think this game is awesome in its darkness. The story is so wide open after the vault, you’re on your own and your life is what you want it to be, with very little ‘required’ plot. It’s a cruel world, but whats the fun in the game without a challenge?
Also dude, look for your dad, soo worth it.
masterful
To Jeff, waxing lyrical about good and evil in the comments (otherwise a brilliant article).
Either:
There is a god or there is no god.
Is there is a god, then you have a reason to do good because you’ll be rewarded whereas if you do evil you’ll be punished. Alternatively you could say you’re forced to do good at gunpoint. What kind of sick morality is that? Also, if there really is a supernatural law giver, then this can only mena that he changes his mind really often. It wasn’t until recently in human history that we finally started waking up to the barbarity of slavery. It wasn’t until really recently that the US still segregated people of different races. In biblical times, Yahweh endorsed and econouraged murder, theft, rape, pillage and genocide in his name. Nowadays, people like that get sent to Nuremberg. So if morality changes over time depending on the awakening consciousness of humankind, there is no need for a law-giver – humans already make their own morality.
If there is no god then you are right, you can do either good or evil to no consequence. Or is it really to no consequence? Nature rewards good as much as it rewards evil. Evil men seldom have place in civilised society. And if you do good, you do it for goodness’ sake. This is real morality – good deeds done without prompting and without ulterior motive. There does not need to be a supernatural law giver for humans to know what is right and what is wrong. If you honestly beleive that you would do evil if you thought there was no god you are a despicable human being, sir.
There is no God but your Dad is in vault 112.
I like the article except for the stereotypical association made between atheism and daddy issues.
TUNNEL SNAKES RULE!
I now want to play Fallout 3. Grats.
…..beautiful…
Excellent work.
I think it’s time to put Fallout 3 down, sir.
That was beautiful ….. i totally agree with you on this….
Kudos to you.
This story is beautifully written.
One of life’s cruel lessons, my friend. However, I believe that so long as you hold true to the goal of living, you will find peace. Perhaps, with your life, you may be able to rectify the foul misdeeds of a godless plane and bring resolution to a world torn by the madness of men and the insanity of chaos.
Zeus, thank you for your thoughtful comments—the deepest we’ve seen here. Let me make sure I understand them.
You’re drawing a distinction between two kinds of morality: that based on the existence of God, and that which does not rely on God’s existence. If a person does good and avoids evil only because God rewards and punishes these behaviors, then that person is either a toady or a puppet, and in either case they lack moral dignity. Therefore a morality that is based purely in response to God’s promises/threats is no kind of morality at all. I think we can all agree on that. It brings to mind the image of a teenager who would like to go out, live a little, date, etc., but who is beaten for the slightest infraction but given money, smiles, hugs when she behaves nicely. That’s a pitiful situation for the teenager and despicable for the parent. Are we together on this?
In contrast, you describe—I think—a person who does good and avoids evil not because of promises or threats, but simply for goodness’ sake. This sounds attractive to me, but then I’m distracted a bit by your mention of nature rewarding goodness. You don’t draw a sharp line here but truly there’s a fork in the road. If a person does good because nature rewards it and punishes evil—for instance, through instincts (e.g. maternal instinct promoting altruistic love) or societal penalties for anti-social behavior—then “nature” has just taken the place that “God” occupied in the previous paragraph. A person who does good and shuns evil because nature/DNA/society rewards good and punishes evil is no more commendable than the person who responds to God’s promises and threats. So we really want a better basis for morality if we can get it.
Which takes us back to what you said about a person who does good for goodness’ sake. That is definitely the sort of person I want to be and want to hang around with.
So far perhaps we’ve been agreeing on things. But now a cluster of sticky questions (or a sticky cluster of questions) comes to my mind, and it will be harder to keep on agreeing. What proportion of people are “truly good” in this sense? Zero percent? One hundred percent? Fifty percent? Five percent? I bet different people will find wildly different answers to this question. Let’s say we find one of these “truly good” people. What differentiates them from other sorts of people (assuming not everyone is “truly good”)? What motivates them to do good and avoid evil?
I read recently that the average American office worker only does about 1.5 hours of work in an 8 hour day. They’re paid for the full 8 hours, of course. But they spend most of that time getting coffee, chatting with coworkers, browsing the web, reading comments like this one—but no, keep reading, it’ll be worth it.
I’ve personally observed this behavior in the offices I’ve worked in. I’ve seen people roll in at 11 just to go out for lunch, roll back in at 2 just to start playing WoW at 3:30PM. When the boss walks in, you hear the clatter of Alt-Tab from all around the room. Guilty consciences. And rightfully so. Because no matter which way you slice it, that’s about 6.5 hours of stealing per day—taking home hundreds, thousands of dollars for which no work was done.
To repeat: That’s 1.5hrs for the average office worker, not the low-down, no-good weirdo.
So I get the sense that this “truly good” person is mighty rare. But if you find one, ask her or him why he or she does good. I’d like to know the answer. And then maybe we’ll be able to figure out why the rest of us aren’t like that.
Of course it’s silly to believe that morality can only be based on the existence of God. There are plenty of people who do good things and avoid evil—at least to some extent—who don’t believe in God. (And the people who do believe in God don’t seem to avoid evil any better.) It’s silly to believe that a morality based on God’s rewards and threats would have any merit.
So you’re beating up a straw man, because no one—not me, anyway—is claiming that people can only be good when threatened by God. That’s not Christianity, it’s not Judaism, I don’t think it’s any religion. Christ’s message about morality focused not on threats and rewards, but on the kind of person you are. A good kind of person will produce good deeds just as sure as an apple tree makes apples, he said. An evil kind of person will produce evil deeds just as sure as a fig tree makes figs. (Not to denigrate figs in any way you understand.) It’s not a matter of effort or will power or threat or reward or any external force. I think you said it well yourself, O Zeus: A truly good person just does good for goodness’ sake.
The trouble is, that most of us recognize a fair number of figs popping out on a daily basis. Some apples too, yes. Maybe more apples than figs. But still, those figs! The little lies. The not so little lies. The fantasies, when we’re angry, when we’re raging, when we need to get even. The mp3 collection that the FBI would be mighty interested in if they had time for such things. Most of us who are older than fourteen do things every day that would make the eight year-old versions of ourselves vomit. The films running in our minds are X rated and then some. Can we still call ourselves truly good?
So the question isn’t really over whether a truly good person is motivated by God or nature or some internal quality. The question is whether I’m a truly good person. If not, do I want to be? If I want to be, how to I get to be? And that—that right there—is the question Christ spoke so much on, and sacrificed so much to give us an answer to. So if I were you, I’d be cautious about getting too uppity about God and religion. Read what Christ said and did and see then if you still feel the same way about God’s imperious ways.
Have faith in the atom, friend.
you sir, truly captures the essence of playing Fallout 3.
What about Saint Monica’s church? There are hope and faith in the wasteland. God, well, that’s another matter.
Reading this I cannot help but wonder if seeing beauty in hopelessness isn’t just a coping mechanism for dealing with existential angst. Even if it is this succeeds nicely, well done.
dude…. it’s just a game.
Might the “God” of this game actually be the “gods” of Bethesda? The folks created a (near) fully-realized world, breathed life into its inhabitants, intelligently designed a kick-ass video game?
Great post!
No, no, Dave. The Wasteland is just to random and wicked to have any sort of designer. It just must have emerged by chance. You have to get your mind out of such primitive, superstitious thinking.
I too am having a hard time seeing a God in this wretched wasteland. As Katie said, if there is a God, he let the bombs fall. He lets the raiders and the mutants torture and kill with little consequence. And what does he give us, the wanderers, when we save a settlement or bring an old woman a family heirloom? We get a fist-full of caps and an “atta-boy” from someone we’ll never see or hear from again.
It seems that the wasteland rewards evil far more often than good. The raiders are great in numbers and seem to survive fairly well. The mutants are powerful and only truly matched by the Brotherhood. Those ghoul-hating bastards at Tenpenny Tower are living out their days in a life of luxury. Even Dukov, the playboy by the shore, seems to be enjoying himself while he abuses the women under his ‘protection’. Megaton, on the other hand, struggles just to keep itself operational. Rivet City seems to be the only place worth visiting. Even Rivet has it’s dark side. There’s a lot going on there under the surface. Though I’m sure you knew that already. Don’t get me started on the vaults – 101 was bad enough. The others are their own individual circles of hell.
Despite its dominance, evil still doesn’t feel right to me. It may be the best way to survive out here, but I can’t knowingly be a part the horrors I have seen at the raider camps and mutant strongholds. The bodies, bloody messes strung from hooks. They tell terrible stories of torture and death. These wanderers were like you and I, just not as lucky I guess. I prefer to do good, or at lest not to be evil, because I need to live with myself after everyone else leaves. Out here in the wasteland I’m alone more often than not. After a while even the radio fails to keep me company. My dog, the faithful companion that he was, died long ago and I find no friends among the wasteland’s many mercenaries. As I wander, the only thing that matters to me is whether or not I can live with myself. It’s for this reason that I keep fighting the good fight.
I’m becoming more hopeless by the day though. I’m tired of searching for my dad, if he’s even out there. With each step I take in his direction, he seems to take another step away from me. I fear we’ll be playing a friendly game of cat and mouse until one of us dies, probably me. As I follow him I’ve been trying to help little groups of people here and there – though this doesn’t make me any more hopeful. Despite all my efforts I still see death and destruction strewn across the wasteland. Yesterday I rescued some villagers near Big Town only to have them killed shortly after by mutants attacking the town. Some good that did. Last week I thought I’d do the world a favor and get rid of that asshole Dukov. Instead of thanking me for their freedom, the girls he was keeping prisoner attacked and I was forced to kill them as well. It seems that no matter how much good I do this place spits it right back at me, taunting me to keep trying and keep failing. I’m getting tired of accomplishing nothing in this wasteland. With nowhere else to go I’m beginning to think death is my best option.
I’ll leave you with one final anecdote that explains my sorrow. A few days ago I discovered a home under ground in an abandoned sewer system. I’d been through these sewers many times and never seen this place. The walls were covered in florescent colored paint and decorated with unusual patterns. It was almost beautiful in it’s chaos. As I examined the artwork I found a button on the wall. Hoping to find more of the artwork I pressed the button and waited. The floor in the middle of the room suddenly sunk down and became a set of stairs. To my horror, the stairs led to one of the most gruesome places I had ever seen. There was so much blood, so many bodies, the air smelled awful. I threw up in the corner and made my way back up the stairs as fast as I could unwilling to glance back at the raiders’ basement. Just like this home, the wasteland seems to lure me into doing good only to throw me into something all the more terrible. How can there be a God in that?
[Awesome contribution, Sam! Wow—gives me chills.]
Holy crap it’s a game. You are the reason people say gamers can’t differentiate between games and real life. Thanks for screwing over 99.9% of the gaming population.
Whatta noob, you can find your dad in like, 4 hours
I am on Level 17 and i for one don’t feel as if i need to find my father at the moment. I’m having way to much fun completing other quests i have had only one problem though, i can not seem to find Agatha’s Song. Any help would be Great=]