The 1960s TV show Thunderbirds fascinated me as a child. Though it first aired long before I was born, and I have long since grown up, Thunderbirds still resonates with me in a way other sci-fi shows do not. There are many reasons: the machines, music, suspense, heroism, special effects. But above all this, it is Thunderbirds’ optimism for the future of humanity and its endorsement of an ambitious pursuit of technological progress that distinguishes it from sci-fi of recent decades and imbues it with a lasting appeal that persists to this day.
One of Thunderbirds’ defining features, beyond its masterful use of puppets, miniatures, and special effects, is its unrelentingly optimistic tone for the future of humanity and technological progress.
The first time we see Jeff Tracy, the head of International Rescue, he is standing by a picture of the rocket that made him one of the first men to stand on the moon. This image establishes the show’s reverent relationship with technology—particularly the big, noisy, vehicular sort.
The show’s optimism is ironic, considering the plot focuses on disasters. It’s important to note, however, that these disasters are usually framed as honest accidents on the inevitable road to greatness, or sabotages by comical villains. The show rarely tackles difficult subjects like corruption, regulation, economics, or the potential harm of technological advancement.
While these are important subjects, Thunderbirds lack of commentary on them isn’t problematic. Not every show needs to explore the moral implications of events or express its view on real-world problems—especially a kid’s show.
Thunderbirds’ focus on brave people using futuristic technology to mount daring rescues enables it to express a childlike excitement for the future of technological progression that is surprisingly hard to find in modern sci-fi.
Much of today’s sci-fi is rather cynical. Humanity is often near extinction, in the grip of some authoritarian state, losing control of some powerful and dangerous technology, using technology irresponsibly, waging war with aliens, or waging war with itself.
Hard sci-fi often presents us with cautionary tales about the misuse of technology. Social sci-fi often presents us with dystopian futures. Even fantasy sci-fi like Star Wars often features some large-scale war as a major plot element.
The only consistent aspect of optimism in modern sci-fi is the rate at which humanity will colonise extra-solar planets. Sci-fi universes usually have us inventing faster-than-light travel and enjoying quick and easy space travel in a century or two. Optimistic, sure, but the usual reasoning behind this convention is that we like our sci-fi characters hopping between worlds on a regular basis–not that we genuinely think we’ll be able to do this any time soon, if ever.
Optimistic sci-fi stories still get made, but the overall trend is distinctly cynical.
In Thunderbirds, by contrast, we are introduced to a new technological marvel every episode—a new rocket, skyscraper, military vehicle, plane, or high-tech facility. Even if a new invention is doomed, its destruction is framed as a temporary and often blameless setback from which humanity will invariably pick itself up.
Thunderbirds evokes the wonder and excitement many must have felt in the mid-20th century. There was obviously much to be cynical about at the time—poverty, racism, gender inequality, and cold war conflicts. But when you isolate the technological progress being made during this period, it was a very exciting time to be alive.
New technological marvels were being built all the time. Humanity was on a roll. New rockets were being built and smashing the boundaries of what everyone thought possible. In almost every field from planes to cars to ships, records for size, speed, and efficiency were being broken. Diseases were being cured, new medical drugs were entering the market, and revolutionary new surgeries were being performed. This was the age of Concord, fighter jets, space flights, moon landings, orbital satellites and telescopes, coloured TV, and the first computers. It was the golden age of science fiction.
Technology was progressing at a breakneck pace. The world was changing more rapidly than ever before. Sci-fi writers were making predictions that were, in hindsight, rather hasty, though understandably so. Whereas much of the technological progress that occurs today is seen as an incremental improvement over what we already have, at the time of Thunderbirds’ airing, the world was abuzz with scientific discoveries and technological novelties.
This buzzing atmosphere comes across in Thunderbirds more so than any other show from the period I have seen. I assume Star Trek, with its utopian post-scarcity civilisation, comes close, though I have not seen it.
The retro-futuristic designs of the vehicles, buildings, and costumes accentuate Thunderbirds’ optimistic tone. These old-fashioned designs come across as endearingly naïve—as if they expected the world to change technologically but never culturally.
One day, our own style of futurism will be considered retro, but I don’t think it will be looked upon with the same sort of endearment. We can look at Thunderbirds and be endeared to their evident excitement for the future.
Looking at modern sci-fi, there seems to be an overall anxiety about where humanity is headed—robots taking over the world, interplanetary war, governments and corporations using technology to oppress people, architecture looking bleak and sterile and soulless, and AI rendering humanity obsolete and hedonistic parasites.
Perhaps these cynical visions of the future are more accurate, but they’re certainly not inspiring. Thunderbirds inspired many people to take up careers as engineers. I suppose it also inspired some to pursue careers as puppeteers, though I hear they’re still looking for work.
Is modern sci-fi so inspiring? Sometimes, I suppose. But I don’t think any show has a conversion-to-engineer rate as successful as Thunderbirds.