What will Australia be like in 2058? A new novel imagines division, unemployment – and activism

Maggie Garewal believes in the possibilities of change. She lives in 2058 Ngunnawal-Canberra, and works in politics for a progressive-aligned “proxy harvester”. In this near future Australia, all legislation must be passed by plebiscite. Anyone not keen on constant voting can delegate to a proxy.

Some might call Maggie naive, but she genuinely believes with the right ideas, communicated effectively, she can make a real difference. When the progressives win office for the first time in almost 20 years, it looks like she’ll finally have her chance. She gets to work spearheading the implementation of a Universal Basic Income.

2058 Australia is an alienating place to be. Automation and artificial intelligence (AI) have devastated employment. Climate change has resulted in a surge in the arrival of refugees. The country was divided during the Surrender, the northern tips given over to a United States military protectorate and Indigenous self-governance. And then there’s the Shroud, a biometric implant that layers the virtual over the real world, blending reality with illusion.

Review: Here Are My Demands – Andrew Roff (Wakefield Press)

Maggie believes the Income will restore a level of dignity and purpose to a troubled population. But not everyone agrees, and to get it across the line she will have to negotiate with pragmatic public servants, skittish politicians, aggressive right-wing talk shows, religious fundamentalists and a violent underground resistance.

All of whom may or may not be manipulated by something deeper and more sinister: a foreign entity, or generational vested interests who will do whatever it takes to maintain power. As they have always done.

Here Are My Demands is the debut novel from Andrew Roff, whose short fiction has been published, collected and awarded widely. As a work of literary speculative fiction, it feels concerned more with the now than an imagined future. It looks forward, yes – but the view is remarkably familiar.

A sense of box ticking

Maggie provides a sympathetic perspective for experiencing the future Roff has created. Despite living in a world of cynics, she genuinely believes in the work she’s doing. At the same time, she’s a flawed human like the rest of us. The book gets its drive from the tug of war between her strengths and her weaknesses; the times she steps up (such as holding her own on a right-wing talk show) and the times she falls flat (when she attempts to flush out a mole in the ranks).

Where her point of view is limiting, however, is that Maggie knows how her world works, providing little opportunity for it to be explained to the reader. One of the ways Roff gets around this is to begin each chapter with an introductory extract from imagined articles, interviews, user guides and more. These are effective, succinct tools, which demonstrate key aspects of the future. My favourite is the children’s guide to getting your shroud, from the beginning of chapter three:

Congratulations! Your parents have decided that you are ready for a shroud. Getting a shroud installed is part of growing up and becoming a dult. Q.? Whats a shroud? A. A shroud lets you use augmented reality. These days, shrouds are implanted around your eyes.

The downside, for me at least, is that they add to a sense of box ticking. We can plot the future of Here Are My Demands quite cleanly from the present – and that’s because it’s built on trends. List the key drivers of change happening in the world today, and you might get: the impact of AI and automation on jobs, the risks of our increasingly online existence, the effects of climate change, a push for First Nations sovereignty and the realignment of international alliances.

Here Are My Demands has thought about these – and it makes sure to address each one.

Tension between the real and virtual

While Maggie is working to get the Income over the line, her brother Tez embodies the very people she is trying to help. Trained as an architect but trapped in unemployment, he whittles his life away playing games in shroudspace when he should be completing applications for a job market that has become a literal competition.

Tez’s story is a powerful counterbalance to Maggie’s. Left in the cold by the very system she works for, he’s courted by shady shroudspace activists who open his eyes to a world of resistance: protests both peaceful and less so. Even as it becomes apparent they are using him to get to his sister, even as he’s horrified by their methods, there’s a part of Tez that understands them – and why they’re fighting.

We only get glimpses of Tez’s world; I would have liked to experience more of his point of view, particularly towards the resolution of his arc.

There’s a tension between the real and the virtual in Here Are My Demands. It encourages us to examine what is flexible, what is immutable, who knows the rules, and who can break them. From the chaos of real bombings in virtual spaces, to the terror of someone hacking into your brain, the most potent moments of intersection involve a chilling melding of illusory and physical violence that made me feel this future.

Imperfect, but worth it

I’ll be honest: I was sceptical at first that a book about the legislation of government policy could be an engaging read. I need not have worried. Between Maggie and Tez, the augmented world of the shroud and political machinations in the shadows, Roff has created something engrossing, if a little heartbreaking.

Having said that (and, I’m aware, probably due to my experience writing science fiction and creative futurism), I struggled to fully commit to his near-future world. I kept being reminded of the machine behind the curtain – the levers and drivers he was building on – and was unable to fully immerse as a result.

But that doesn’t negate the importance of such imagining.

In his acknowledgements, Roff admits “trying to chart the near-future is a foolish undertaking” and it’s only getting harder as events overtake even our more “outlandish predictions”.

Over the course of Here Are My Demands, it becomes increasingly obvious that the odds are stacked against our earnest protagonist, and Maggie just might not win this fight. Not cleanly, at least.

Which begs the question – why do either? Why write science fiction? Why fight for change?

For me, at least, Here Are My Demands provides an answer, too. Maggie’s story demonstrates the value of small steps. It shows us helping someone, even if you can’t help everyone, still makes a difference. Maybe the key is not to give in to cynicism, but to make art and imagine our futures and work for change – regardless of how imperfect it might be.

Joanne Anderton does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.