#uggggghhhhhhhhh

On the small scale of the drama between Jack and Sarah Steel, we see this played out in Jack’s assumption that everything will work out for the best if he steals Sarah’s work because: a) she cannot handle the responsibility of being the only writer at North Star and b) he can just give her the money needed to support herself when he makes a success out of her work.

Even as an elderly man long after this drama has played itself out, we can hear O’Flaherty’s frustration and lack of understanding for why Sarah didn’t accept the money to support herself--the money that would’ve made everything he did alright. O’Flaherty doesn’t understand that Sarah would never have accepted money in exchange for the beautiful thing she invented, a beautiful thing that it became clear that O’Flaherty doesn’t understand when the movies he makes not based on Sarah’s work flop.

O’Flaherty thought that if he could figure out the most utilitarian way to act, to make everyone happy, then it was any means necessary, any stealing of freedom and authenticity necessary, in order to make the world its optimal, “happiest” version. That’s how he can steal Sarah’s work, get her fired, for the good of the company and all the people who work there, and think Sarah will just accept his money.

On the large scale, we see this sacrificial utilitarianism in his plan for the people Hyperion city as enacted in a test run on the denizens of Old Town (namely, Mickey). Both the audience and Juno can’t help but feel that maybe these chips controlling people (like Juno’s once eye) really are the best options for people like Mickey. If they help him decide to curtail his dangerous behavior and live a happier life, that he legitimately feels happier about, isn’t that enough? Isn’t that what we all want, a society where we can’t harm ourselves and each other?

But this thinking ignores that life isn’t worth living, or at least aren’t human, if things aren’t choices, aren’t a free part of the world. We’ve always been singing about butterflies, but being given a shitton of butterflies in our nice cage doesn’t make our songs come true. Because those butterflies, that happiness, isn’t something we struggled and fought and grasped blindly towards.