Published in 1993, Harvest of Stars is the first volume of a four-book future history on Man’s expansion to the stars, as well as a heavy-handed tract on the author's cherished political (libertarian) themes. The book is divided into two acts vastly separated in space in time. In the first act, space pilot Kyra Davis is sent to a future North America ruled by a totalitarian government. Her mission is to smuggle out the downloaded personality of Anson Guthrie, founder of the private space company Fireball. In spiriting the Guthrie download outside the borders of the North American Union and ultimately into orbit, Davis must evade the fearsome Security Police who want to capture them and send them to political re-education. In the second act, the Guthrie download, now safe, leads an effort to colonize a planet around Alpha Centauri, while Earth is increasingly dominated by artificial intelligences and turns its gaze inward.
When I first read this book around the age of 14, I was impressed by its epic scope. It covers centuries of human history and is ultimately among the most optimistic visions of the future around. But as an adult, and now being familiar with Anderson's other work, its strident political themes grate. For the last couple of decades of his career, Anderson went heavy on the "government bad, private initiative good" theme, to the point that his plots occasionally seem mere window dressing around the political message he wants to get across. Here, for example, a brief scene where a character walks through an improverished neighbourhood seems to serve little purpose except to drop the line "". For all Anderson's desire for human freedom, the good characters’ unquestioning allegiance to Anson Guthrie seems creepy; if the bad side here represent “collectivists”, then the good side consists of a feudal society led by one single superman. Also, in a throwback to mid-century science fiction (with its whiff of lingering scientific racism), the protagonists here are physically beautiful and suave, while the villain is physically ugly and gross.
There is, however, a new twist on Anderson's libertarianism in Harvest of Stars: his hatred of AI. An intelligence more advanced than millions of human beings could lead to a managed market, the bugbear of Anderson's variety of free-market libertarianism. But beyond that, Anderson was concerned that any transcendental intelligence might choose to construct a virtual reality to dwell in or make advances in pure mathematics instead of continually exploring other solar systems. Such a prospect horrified this author, who started out writing space opera in the 1950s when it was just assumed that human colonization of the galaxy would ultimately happen. Harvest of Stars thus sets up the conflict that rules the later volumes of this future history: intrepid space cowboys (good) versus eldritch computer minds (bad). Don't expect any of the imagination – and the acceptance that humanity might be changed beyond recognition – of other science-fiction authors thinking of a coming Singularity.
Anderson's vision of the future is little like the one we live in now just two decades later. That is something one just has to accept from most science fiction published decades. But a major flaw of this book is that even the internal chronology of Anderson's future history seems wonky. Guthrie has been a mind in a computer already for half a century when the book opens, and one would expect any civilization capable of downloading brains would have made concomitant strides in creating purely artificial intelligences in those same computers. And yet, Anderson sets the rise of artificial intelligence well after the thrills of this book's first act. Such sloppy worldbuilding only underscores the feeling that an old man just wanted to warn people of his perennial bogeymen, and the story came second.
The novel shares some of the other downsides of Anderson's body of work. This author was conscious that the future would see a great deal of globalization and international cooperation, with many of Earth's peoples and cultures mixing. Unfortunately, he illustrates this forecast by drawing some of his characters from 20th-century ethnic stereotypes. One of the ways these stereotypical characters give the reader their backgrounds is by occasionally sprinkling bits of their native tongues (i.e. phrases that Anderson plucked out of e.g. a Spanish or Arabic dictionary with no actual familiarity with the language) into otherwise American English. Also, Anderson was also very fond of the Anglo-Saxon culture of a millennium ago, and he has his characters use various obsolescent old English words that would be just ridiculous in our day, let alone a century from now.
Thus, while Harvest of Stars might still dazzle some innocent adolescent out there who picks it up by chance, I simply cannot recommend this to fans of science fiction. And lest you think I’m only hard on this novel because I disagree with its author's political position, Vernor Vinge is a libertarian too and yet I’d point to his writings of this same era as vastly better, both as a vision of the future and just plain good reading.