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07 Apr 2025
5 Min Read
Ruka Nakamatsu (Student Writer)
We explore how the sci-fi genre can reimagine a more sustainable future on screen—and maybe inspire one off-screen, too!
In Ready Player One (2018), nature is nowhere to be seen—only endless rows of makeshift homes, neon signs flickering against dark clouds, and the hum of machines replacing birdsong. The Earth outside is so bleak that most people escape into the OASIS, a limitless virtual world where they can be anything and go anywhere—except, ironically, to a place where nature truly thrives.
This isn't just Ready Player One's vision of the future—it's a recurring theme. From Blade Runner (1982); Blade Runner 2049 (2017) to Interstellar (2014), sci-fi often imagines a world where technology thrives, but nature has all but vanished. But why does the future always look like a concrete wasteland? And more importantly, does it have to?
Sci-fi's vision of the future is often anything but green. Instead of thriving forests or flowing rivers, we get sprawling megacities, artificial lights cutting through the smog, and landscapes dominated by glass and steel. But this isn't just an aesthetic choice. Hollywood's dystopian storytelling has long painted a future where progress and nature can't coexist.
Many sci-fi films frequently lean into the idea that as technology advances, nature fades into the background. From Tron (1982); Tron: Legacy (2010) to Ghost in the Shell (1995); Ghost in the Shell (2017), there is a fascination, maybe even an obsession, with technology. The more we automate, innovate, and digitise, the less room there seems to be for forests, oceans, and rivers.
Some sci-fi films take a more direct approach, using environmental destruction as a flashing warning sign. In Dune (2021), the universe is arid, and water is scarce, especially on the unforgiving desert planet of Arrakis. It portrays a future where nature isn't absent but overpowering. WALL-E (2008) envisions an Earth so overrun with waste that humanity abandons it entirely. These films don't just speculate—they reflect fears that if we keep ignoring the environment, reality could start looking a lot like fiction.
Then there's the simple truth—dystopian worlds just look cool. Sci-fi films thrive on visual storytelling, and extreme contrasts make for striking imagery. A planet-sized space station/ weapon (i.e., the Death Star) in Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope (1977) or a sunless metropolis in The Matrix (1999)—these backdrops aren't just settings; they're symbols. The absence of nature instantly feels unnatural and dramatic, amplifying the tension and weight of a broken future. In short, natureless worlds aren't just a creative choice but an emotional shortcut to making a story feel high-stakes.
But if we only imagine worlds where nature disappears, what does that say about our own expectations for the future?
The films we love don't just entertain us—they shape the way we imagine the future. When that future is constantly depicted as a lifeless, dystopian wasteland, it reinforces a sense of inevitability. Instead of inspiring action, these narratives risk normalising environmental collapse, making it feel like a future we are doomed to accept rather than one we can change. If sci-fi keeps picturing nature as the price of progress, it's easy to believe that we don't have much of a choice when it comes to shaping our own future.
But the future doesn't have to be a choice between concrete or conservation. Innovation isn't, or shouldn't, be about building bigger cities or faster machines. It's about designing a world that thrives. We have the power to rethink what progress looks like and create solutions where technology and nature strengthen each other. The best sci-fi films don't just warn us of what could go wrong; they challenge us to imagine what's possible because the most exciting futures are the ones we've yet to build.
However, not all visions of the future are grey and lifeless. Some stories prove that technology and nature don't have to be at odds. Studio Ghibli's films are a prime example. Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984) presents a world where nature fights to heal itself after human greed, while Castle in the Sky (1986) imagines advanced technology seamlessly blending with lush landscapes. Even in Avatar (2009) and Black Panther (2018), we see civilisations that integrate nature into their futuristic designs rather than replace it. These films offer something rare in sci-fi: the idea that progress doesn't mean destruction. If they can imagine a world where technology and nature thrive together, why can't reality?
The answer isn't just in fiction—it's in engineering. The way we build the future determines whether it looks like Blade Runner or Castle in the Sky. Green engineering is already proving that sustainability and innovation can go hand in hand.
Take vertical forests, like Milan's Bosco Verticale, where skyscrapers are wrapped in greenery, serving a dual purpose of improving air quality and cooling urban spaces—an idea brought to life by architects and environmental engineers. Biomimicry, inspired by nature's designs, is led by engineers and material scientists to construct energy-efficient buildings, self-repairing materials, and waste-free systems. Sustainable architecture is redefining cityscapes, with city planners designing smart cities powered by renewable energy and infrastructure that prioritises both human and environmental well-being.
So, while sci-fi may struggle to imagine a green future, our engineers, architects, and visionaries are already building it. The question is no longer whether technology and nature can coexist—it's how soon we'll embrace it.
Right now, the question isn't just about what the future will look like but who will lead it. Rethinking the future isn't exclusively for innovators; it's also for creators. Filmmakers, writers, and storytellers not only shape audience perceptions—they inspire the very people who will design our cities and engineer our technology.
At the end of the day, the future isn't set in stone—or steel and concrete. It can be green, sustainable, and alive. But it starts with those daring enough to imagine it and those bold enough to build it.
Ruka Nakamatsu is currently pursuing a Bachelor of Psychology (Honours) at Taylor's University. A voracious reader with an insatiable curiosity, she constantly delves into diverse topics, always on the lookout for the next great story to write.
