Determinism and Purpose in Player Piano
Unless the reader is deeply fascinated by changing views on technology, Player Piano will likely disappoint.
This is not a review. See why. Spoilers ahead.
Context
Paul Proteus is a doubt-ridden manager at Illium Engineering Works, which makes almost every product the residents of Illium, New York could possibly want. He got the position largely due to his father’s fame, which is why he wonders whether he really deserves it. The job comes with relatively high pay and great prestige; only those with high IQs can study to be engineers or managers. Almost all the other men are doomed to either the manual labor of the “Wrecks and Reeks” maintenance crews or the army. Poverty has been eliminated—apparently, the mechanization of the economy has reduced the cost of production so much that the state, which controls all the major factories and means of production, can easily provide everyone with basic necessities, entertainment, and a variety of appliances to make their lives easier, such as machines that cook food and wash clothes in seconds (the issue of where the raw materials for this come from is never addressed).
Despite this luxury and privilege, Paul feels a vague sense of unhappiness. He fantasizes about leaving his job and learning how to farm. He is deeply upset by the story of a young man who, after learning he cannot be an engineer because his IQ is slightly too low, commits suicide. The story is shared by a leader of a resistance movement who recruits Paul’s best friend. The recruiter and the friend then push a reluctant Paul into the role of double agent. Those who want to rid the society of its “corporate” masters want him to be the face of their rebellion, whereas his bosses want him to spy on the rebels for them. Paul is torn between the rebels, the only security he’s ever known, and his own desire to leave it all behind.
Key Ideas (Overall evaluation: negative)
People need purpose, and mechanization steals that from us
Humans are doomed to make technology
Human nature is inherently bad
People need purpose, and mechanization steals that from us
Though Paul (who is not great at introspecting) never puts it in these words, the fundamental reason he’s unhappy is that he lacks purpose. His job could be done by several others (his secretary sometimes does her work and his own without anybody noticing), and he didn’t choose it, so he doesn’t care about it. Further, there’s the fact that people who are good at streamlining processes sometimes automate their own jobs, making themselves redundant. Paul’s friend does this, but Paul knows his abilities are not on the same level as his friend’s. Other characters face similar problems, since jobs are mostly assigned and many people are prevented from being able to do what they actually want to do—such as write novels—by government institutions.
This omnipresent problem is based on a genuine human need: People need to choose and pursue their own central purpose, otherwise we will feel that our lives are meaningless. The error that Player Piano makes is in assuming that more mechanization will somehow steal purpose away from us. After all (the argument goes), if the housework can be done in under ten minutes a day, what will housewives do? The novel was published in 1952, when such fears were common as the United States was starting to transition away from a manufacturing being central to the economy and labor-saving domestic appliances such as washing machines were becoming more common.1 In the real world, that shift has meant more people are working in safer, more flexible jobs that depend on people skills (service jobs), intelligence (“knowledge work”), or creativity (for example, American art collectors and dealers contributed heavily to the growth of the visual arts industry).2 Nowadays, many new jobs depend on digital technology and the Internet. These tools haven’t meant that people have lost their purposes, but that the purposes to choose between have expanded. Machines are just tools; no matter how many there are or how good they get, only the use of force can stop people from choosing and pursuing a meaningful purpose.
Humans are doomed to make technology
The rebels argue that technology has reduced people to something semi-human. Paul’s employers seem aware of this sentiment because each year they put on a propagandistic play illustrating all the benefits of the rigid society they’ve helped the government create. One would assume, then, that the rebels want nothing to do with technology, but in fact they are divided. The mob want to destroy all the machines, whereas the leaders recognize that doing so would lead to total chaos and urge the destroyers to have restraint.
But perhaps the most puzzling episode comes right at the end, when the rebels begin to repair the technology they have just destroyed. Vonnegut seems to be saying that humans are naturally attracted to the benefits of technology (and the exercise of their minds that’s necessary to create it) and thus will ignore any evidence that it might harm them and construct it anyway. In other words, humans have no free will but will act against their own interests regardless of any experiences or beliefs they have that would guide them away from such behavior. Of course, if we are determined in such a way, then there is no point writing a semi-dystopic parable such as Player Piano, because we will all act as we are hardwired to act regardless of what we read or what we think of it.
Human nature is inherently bad
Sympathetic characters in Player Piano are conspicuous by their absence, though there are a few who seem like decent human beings at first glance. Paul’s wife, for instance, obnoxiously tries to promote his career by sucking up to his boss and his boss’s wife, but this makes sense when you realize that her whole life depends on his job. But then she cheats on him with his more ambitious colleague, proving that she really didn’t love him, but viewed him as a means to a materialistic end. Similarly, the rebel leader seems interesting and insightful, but proves to be cynical and emotionless.
There is never any indication that Paul, supposedly the protagonist, is anything more than an average guy with little to recommend him, and only once does he initiate a chain of events, rather than merely reacting to what goes on around him. Those who represent the company and the government often deliberately deceive others, whereas those who rebel against it are doing so out of blind frustration. Paul concludes that most people are inherently bad, publicly declaring, “I suspect that all people are motivated by something pretty sordid. . . .That’s what it is to be human, I’m afraid. . . . I’m no good, you’re no good. . . we’re all no good because we’re human” (317). Vonnegut clearly takes a negative view of humanity, choosing to ignore any instances of goodness he has witnessed or experienced in real life.
The Vibe
The mushy moral grayness of the characters, combined with Paul’s purposelessness, chronic self-doubt, and cowardice make the book vaguely unpleasant to read. I felt as though I were surrounded by politicians who have long since forgotten any principles they once held and are blindly struggling to keep their heads above water while pretending to be champion swimmers.
Conclusion
Unless the reader is deeply fascinated by changing views on technology, Player Piano will likely disappoint. Vonnegut sees people as lacking moral principles and doomed to repeat the same self-destructive errors as their parents and grandparents, making for an uninspiring and distasteful read, especially for readers who are motivated not by anything “sordid,” but by beautiful, life-serving values.
Why does fiction affect us so deeply? Why is it so key to human culture? How can we get the most out of it? I’ll be presenting some thoughts on these questions in my talk “Fiction as Soul-Fuel: Why Stories Move Us” at LevelUp Orlando on July 18. Day passes are available, and you can save 20% by registering with the code fictionosophyLU25
Manufacturing jobs as a percentage of total US jobs peaked in the late 1940s and began to decline in the 1950s. They’ve been on a fairly steady decline ever since, and make up about 8% of American jobs now. See Felix Richter, “Can Trump Turn Back the Clock on U.S. Manufacturing?” Statista, April 16, 2025, https://www.statista.com/chart/34316/share-of-manufacturing-jobs-in-us-employment/. Washing machines were practically nonexistent in the United States in 1930, but by 1950, 60% of American households owned some form of a washing machine. See Emily Barnes, Ellianne Jacques, and Jordan Rogers, “Washing Machine,” Omaha in the Anthropocene, accessed May 22, 2025, https://steppingintothemap.com/anthropocene/items/show/30.
“Art Market in the 20th Century,”Britannica, accessed May 22, 2025, https://www.britannica.com/money/art-market/The-20th-century.