I increasingly wonder why Elon Musk is bothering trying to establish himself on Mars, and not just because it looks like a complete dump up there. (Seriously, if you think that’s beautiful, I have around a hundred thousand disused quarries I’d love to show you right here on Earth.) Watching Hurricane Milton play out on Musk’s platform and elsewhere cemented the notion that the goal of being on another planet along with millions of people had already occurred. The only problem is that this whole other planet is here, sharing meatspace with what we used to call “reality”.
Once upon a time, relatively recently in the scheme of things, a looming natural disaster would have felt like a fairly ineluctable fact. You couldn’t “debate” a natural disaster any more than you could disagree with gravity. There is a point, we used to say, where you really can’t argue with reality. There is a point where shit gets real. But is there, any more? Certainly that point has receded much further over a still-darkening horizon than we might even have imagined back in, say, 2016, when people were warning of attempts to destroy the very notion of shared reality. In fact, it was already receding back in 2004, when a Bush administration official (widely believed to be Karl Rove) spoke disparagingly of what they called “the reality-based community”.
In the aftermath of Hurricane Helene last month, and in the days leading up to Hurricane Milton’s landfall, it was possible to see the truly grim extent of the slippage in recent years. It wasn’t just in senior politicians using phrases such as “politicising the storm”, a way of talking about a terrifyingly destructive natural phenomenon that would once have seemed like a quote from a satire, but now seems a long-unremarkable part of daily discourse. Nor was it in the widespread questioning that the storm was even a natural phenomenon at all, with huge numbers out there on the platforms declaring it to have been literally “created” and “engineered” by the other side. It was the sense that whatever happened, people had a version of reality they would be sticking to. Their views are battened down and not even a hurricane is going to shift them.
“Yes they can control the weather,” explained the Republican congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene (on X, of course). “It’s ridiculous for anyone to lie and say it can’t be done.” One customary reaction to Marjorie is to remark that it’s as if she’s on another planet. I so wish she was. The problem is that she and her fellow settlers are here, walking among all the agency officials and disaster experts and emergency workers who have to deal with reality as it presents itself – and not reality as whatever rubbish advances your cause that day.
But on she sails, because the civilisation of Another Planet is considerably advanced. You no longer ask if life is sustainable on this planet. It is not just sustainable – it is sustained. Not only does it have well-established communications systems, but also a rapidly spawning language where words can mean their opposites. Another Planet has a thriving media, and a social media presence actively boosted and financially incentivised by the likes of Musk – which arguably had its coming-of-age party over these past weeks. Musk himself shared what he said was a note from a SpaceX engineer falsely claiming that the Federal Emergency Management Agency (Fema) was “actively blocking shipments and seizing goods and services locally and locking them away to state they are their own. It’s very real and scary how much they have taken control to stop people helping … ” Don’t worry, only 41m people have viewed the post.
In addition to oligarchs such as Musk, Another Planet has its own politicians who advance its interests, most notably Donald Trump, who has had what the polls suggest was a good storm. And don’t forget the foot soldiers. On TikTok, you could scroll through miles of fake videos of flooded Florida cities before Milton had even hit the areas purporting to be shown. After Helene last month, Fema launched a dedicated “rumour response” page. Barely two weeks on, the scale of the task has already overwhelmed defences. Rumour response pages were instantly rebranded as government cover-ups (the Jews were behind this one too, would you believe). According to an urgent dispatch from the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, just 33 posts containing claims debunked by Fema, the White House and the US government had already been viewed more than 160m times before Helene hit.
Meanwhile, Another Planet has harnessed sophisticated technology in the form of AI. When told an AI image she’d shared of a sobbing child in a canoe with a puppy was entirely fake, RNC committee member Amy Kremer said she didn’t care and was leaving it up because it was “emblematic”. We’re now in an era when Another Planet feels confident enough to let you behind the curtain, because you’ll still believe it anyway. Kremer butching it out is just the latest version of JD Vance’s insouciant declaration last month that, of course, he creates false stories such as pets being eaten by Haitian immigrants. He does it, he says, so that the media “actually pays attention to the suffering of the American people”.
Maybe most worryingly, Another Planet constantly suggests it will defend itself by force if necessary. One way to fight a “weather weapon” is by making a death threat against a meteorologist. Or, indeed, multiple death threats against multiple meteorologists. Another way is call for militias to attack Fema for “withholding aid”. Another way is to threaten to shoot first responders. Again, honestly the only problem with this community is that it’s right here on Earth. I’m sure they’d say that we in the world’s reality-based community are occupying them – but it’s pretty finely balanced. Ask me again in a month, by which time it might feel as if they are occupying us.
Marina Hyde is a Guardian columnist
A year in Westminster: John Crace, Marina Hyde and Pippa Crerar. On Tuesday 3 December, join Crace, Hyde and Crerar as they look back at a political year like no other, live at the Barbican in London and livestreamed globally. Book tickets here or at guardian.live
