Humanity Gets Defined Again In The Humans Season Finale

Throughout its first season, Humans has raised a lot of questions about the coexistence, in the show's science fiction (near-)future, of biological humans and synthetic ones. A woman who has a synth essentially sprung on her in her own home is unsettled by her interactions with her/it, and that's well before there's any sign that there's anything special or strange about this particular model. What's it like to live with a person/item who seems to hail from the Uncanny Valley? Some biological people know that conscious synths exist. What threat do they fear will be visited upon humans if the conscious synths aren't detained and deprogrammed? Anti-synth sentiment tends to dismiss synths as "things." After getting to know George Millican's synth Odi over seven episodes, would we say he's more like a thing, or like a person? Humans purchase synths and mostly control them, with some limited autonomy. What's the best analogy for the human/synth power balance? Is a synth most like an appliance, in that it lessens human labour? Is a synth most like a pet, in that it relies on human indulgence for its existence? The finale takes a stronger position on this than any other episode this season: a synth is a slave. And if humans have anything to fear from their emancipation, it's because of conditions humans created themselves.

There have been moments when this has felt more obvious than others, as when Hobb initially tracks Fred down at his first post-Leo posting.

Here we have a dark-skinned person picking produce on a plantation, his skin marked with a brand denoting his ownership, programmed to be cheerful and, above all, deferential to his masters. Fred tries to run and is quickly put down and removed to a laboratory, where he is forced to undergo experiments and tests. Knowing our history means there is much here to recognize, shamefully, as ways a dominant race exerts control over those it has subjugated. Over at the Hawkins house, "Anita" experiences another one.

Early on, it seemed as though we viewers were supposed to draw a sharp line between the standard synths and the conscious ones we were getting to know, and to think of the latter as people while the former were basically no better than automated voice message systems who'd been given bodies to walk around in and, occasionally, annoy us with. (For all the grief Laura gave Anita in those first couple of episodes, at least we can give her credit for not responding to "I'm sorry, Laura, I'm afraid I don't understand the question" with "Agent. AGENT.") But if that's the case, why did we spend so much time with George and Odi? George knew perfectly well that Odi didn't possess consciousness; at first, George didn't even know any synths could. And for the entire run of the series, Odi has been physically breaking down: dribbling synth fluid out of his nose; glitching when he tries to speak; getting distracted while driving and running George's car into a tree. Social Services have furnished George with a new carer synth, Vera, and the order is for Odi to be recycled. But even though Odi is no longer "useful" to George in the way he was when he first joined the Millican household, George can't stand the idea of Odi's destruction, and shields him from his antagonists by hiding him in the shed. Our own Mark Blankenship has used this space to argue that George's one-sided relationship with Odi is dehumanizing for George, but with all due respect to my esteemed colleague, I feel like we're supposed to think people who hide their persecuted friends to save them from being killed are actually on the right side of history.

Complicating matters is the existence of Karen, seemingly the Uncle Tom of conscious synths. But as she explains to Leo and the others at the climax of the season finale, she actually has a pretty good reason to try to stop the project of granting consciousness to more synths: she doesn't trust humans. "If I help you, you will have David's power," she tells Mia. "Hundreds of millions of new minds waking up across the world, wanting a freedom the humans will never give." This is in line with what she'd told Niska at George's house in the season's penultimate episode, right after asking Niska to kill her: "I've lived too long among the humans. There's no place for us here....We're a mistake, Niska. Consciousness can only bring us suffering." She says the same thing to Leo in Hobb's lab in the finale: "Our existence can only lead to pain." In Karen's experience, humans have been poor stewards of synths, and "passing" as one has only solidified her belief that synths like her would have been better off never having been "born." And as I said up top, it's hard not to be empathetic to Karen's view when the proof has run through the whole season -- synths being created to provide cheap and uncomplaining labour in the crappiest and most menial jobs, when they're not being physically assaulted (including by Mattie) for human entertainment, or sexually molested by clumsy teens and dads alike.

Leo still has hope for his family, though, even Karen, and when he begs her to link up with her siblings, he says he knows she has no self-interested reason to do it: "I'm just appealing to your humanity." "But I'm not human," she says. "Humanity is not a state, it's a quality," Leo replies. "Max -- he's a machine, but he's got more humanity than anyone." (I feel this description applies to Odi too, particularly at the end. The story of Mary, and Eggs Benedict, and the oranges George ate from a tree in Spain can't just be a glitch: something deep in Odi still remembered how to say something that would comfort George in his final moments.) And when Karen finally does link her mind with the rest, she abandons her plan to sabotage them and corrupt all their code because Mia appeals to Karen's humanity too. She must have a lot of it after all.

The story ties up a bit neatly from there, though I can imagine that was due to no one's knowing at the time the episode was written whether there would be a second season, necessitating that more loose threads remain. One that's been neatly snipped is the one about Joe and Laura, and I am not a fan of the way the finale equated her deception about her mother and deceased brother with Joe's having had sex with Anita/raped Mia. Laura's was a lie of omission that, it seemed to me, stopped being one of the stories she told about herself well before she even met Joe and that didn't really have anything to do with him. Joe waited for everyone to leave the house he shared with his wife and children and then clandestinely activated her for sex. These are not equivalent crimes. But then, it seems very possible that the second season might not include the Hawkins family at all, which would be fine: they've served their purpose.

The synth stories that remain to be told are much more compelling, anyway. What kind of life will Leo, Max, and Mia build for themselves if the threat to their existence truly has passed? Has this experience changed Karen's mind about whether happiness can be possible for a synth in a human world? How receptive is Drummond to having his consciousness raised with regard to synth integration? What will happen when Fred is discovered? Will he be lucky enough to find his way onto an Underground Synth Railroad by a human ally, or will he be returned to his master primary user? Or does anything at all matter other than all of us supporting Niska as she raises an army of freed slave synths and kills all humans? I won't even be mad. We are REALLY overdue.