Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

Wow. I read through this novella twice, and after the second time I was all set to start at the beginning all over again. I think it's marvelous. The more I read the book, the more nuance I found.

Rick Deckard is a bounty hunter who 'retires' androids who have escaped the human colony on Mars and travelled to Earth, an earth rendered a wasteland by a terminal world war. The radioactive dust that has contaminated all has not yet affected him biologically, but others who are so contaminated are considered unfit for migration, or much of anything else. Rick and his wife and others are sustained by self-selected electrical mood manipulation and an religion that acknowledges the hopelessness of life but provides a massive and supportive show more circuit of empathy. Androids, however, are missing the ability to empathize, even with each other, and this lack allows detection.

At first I was amused by the mix of futuristic predictions and seeming anachronisms - yes to self-programmed mood machines but also coin-operated wired telephones. But that unevenness in imagination is after all unimportant. More to the point, what is the value of a 'natural' person? How well-engineered does an android have to be before it's indistinguishable from a natural person? Will it someday be possible to engineer an android with all the emotional accoutrements of a human - what then?

Could there be a religion that would support a population witnessing the slow ending of the world? What would it be?

Who has the right to survive after world-wide self-destruction? What would we value in such a devastated world?

And of course, the analagous questions are about our own times: What constitutes a valuable person (especially in 1968, when this was published, and now, alas - do black lives matter)? What is the value of the living world? To what purpose are the various religions we honor, and how real are they, and how real do they have to be to be of value? How pure can our actions be, or are we as imperfect as the androids?

Written in the 60s, there are more than discreet echoes of questions of race, the impact of slavery, ecological danger, religion as opiate, opiate as opiate, denial versus reality, love and despair.

The story is so intense and visual it cries out for a movie treatment, which of course is the film 'Blade Runner' - with many changes. Read the book. show less

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? is Philip K. Dick's most famous work, partly because it is one of his most accessible but mostly because of its association with the 1982 film Blade Runner, which was based on the novel. It covers that most Dickian of themes: whether something is true or false, real or fake. Rick Deckard is a bounty hunter who 'retires' escaped androids (they're called 'replicants' in the film) and comes to harbour existential doubts about his approach. The bounty hunters are compelled to deploy increasingly fine-tuned tests to identify androids; the very fact that they need such precise tests suggests that there's only a hair's-breadth of difference between human and android anyway. Deckard notices, amongst other show more things, that many androids have "more vitality and desire to live than my wife" (pg. 82) and that many seem to have hopes and aspirations. In a post-apocalyptic world where real animals have become status symbols, and all-but-indistinguishable android animals are seen as a shortcut, does the android behaviour that Deckard witnesses mean they have a soul? Hence the searching title.

Dick reinforces this central message with clever allusions to the artificiality of life in the future: characters talk about how the "basic condition of life [is] to be required to violate your own identity" and nature (pp 155, 201) – are we sure this is the future and not the compromises we face in the present day? When an android states "We are machines… It's an illusion that I – I personally – really exist; I'm just a representative of a type" (pg. 164), she could easily be a human talking about the angst and pressure to conform in modern society, and how we are shaped by the circumstances and limitations we live with. Right from the first page of Dick's novel, humans regularly take artificial mood stimulants, and by page 23 we learn that people have organic plastic body parts made for them when they're injured. It's the old philosophical question of the old broom that's been through three new brushes and two new handles. Forget whether androids dream of electric sheep, are humans even truly human anymore? This, surely, is the germination of the theory that Deckard may himself be an android.

It's all fascinating to ponder, and you may be wondering why with such heady ideas whizzing about I'm not gushing with praise for the novel. Aside from his forgivable counter-culture quirks (words like 'thalamic' and 'cephalic emanations' abound in otherwise ordinary conversations) and the odd stuff about some transcendental alien guru named Mercer that I still don't really understand, my reticence about Dick comes from the fact that he doesn't do a great job of leading you in the right direction. He requires his readers to think for themselves, and whilst this is fine – no intelligent reader likes to be spoon-fed – the absence of any guiding light from the author means you only truly appreciate his books' themes when you've finished them and taken a step back, rather than when you're in the active process of reading them. Some of the potential power of the book is, consequently, lost. Even the idea that Deckard may himself be an android – a fascinating twist that deserves to be exploited – is only hinted at once or twice in the novel, whereas we get pages of guff about 'Mercerism'.

Dick's novels are like a Meccano set: he provides the material but the reader has to work hard to piece it together. This, paradoxically, can be one of the joys of reading Dick, for one reader may end up with a construction and an interpretation far different from that of another. It perhaps explains why Dick's stories have been mined so thoroughly by Hollywood: he provides the raw material and film-makers can distil it through their own medium without being accused of distorting it. But, with Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, it did mean that I'd already been exposed to a powerful interpretation of the story in the film Blade Runner. This made the themes of the novel much clearer through the lens of the cinema and it is strange to recognise that much of Dick's reputation rests on the popularity of film adaptations of his works than the works themselves. Nevertheless, for all their acquired taste, Dick's books contain ideas which firmly establish him as one of science fiction's most original minds. show less

This is classic Dick at his best. World War Terminus left many cities empty, the radiological fallout destroyed most of the animal life. "In addition, no one today remembered why the war had come about or who, if anyone, had won". Off-world colonies on Mars provide refuge for those who emigrated. The story follows a two characters who remained on earth: Rick Deckard, a bounty hunter for the San Francisco police department, and J.R Isidore, a truck driver for an electric animal repair company. The plot, in broad strokes, has Deckard searching for six androids who fled from the Mars colonies, while J.R befriends them. Deckard is driven by his need to own a living animal. Retiring the six androids will earn him enough money to realize his show more dream. But things get complicated when he develops empathy for some of his targets.

The story deals with multiple social issues and introduces us to a variety of futuristic devices that are plausible yet fictional to this day. The story aged well in this regard. You will no doubt empathize with some of the characters, this is a story where the underlying theme is, also, empathy.

I recommend this book if you enjoy futuristic science fiction.


To incentivise emigration to Mars, android servants are offered to families. These androids were originally Synthetic Freedom Fighters, machines of war. They "had become the mobile donkey engine of the colonization program", and "as body servants or tireless field hands". The idea that androids are less than human is repeatedly made clear. Through the eyes of Deckard and J.R. we empathize with the androids. We realize that the humans who stayed behind on earth are just as outcast as the androids. Staying on earth means isolation and exclusion from humanity. People that don't meet the minimum mental or physical faculties for emigration are termed "specials", "chickenheads" and "antheads". A social hierarchy exists within the outcast society of earth dwellers. A further divide among social status exists between people who own living animals, versus those that own none, or own electric replicas. In fact "To say, 'Is your sheep genuine?' would be a worse breach of manners than to inquire whether a citizen's teeth, hair, or internal organs would test out authentic".

The Penfield mood organ is a device that emanates a wave that induces an artificial mood in the user. If our empathy is the vehicle of our humanity, then our moods are its driver. By introducing a device that allows humans to electrically and artificially change moods, Dick has lowered humanity near to that of androids. The reader can then more easily compare humans and androids, often blurring the line with regards to morality and behaviour. We think of people without emotions as "robots", and similarly people with programmable moods could be thought of as robots too.

Mercerism is a kind of communion shared by the people through means of a device called the empathy box. The experience is seen through the eyes of Wilbur Mercer and his endless suffering in the tomb world, and then, his climb uphill while getting hit with rocks. Injuries sustained while fused are manifested in reality; they persist after fusing ends. This makes the experience very real and undeniable. Despite its purgatory-like nature, everybody fused are aware of each other, offering encouragement which brings them together.

Later the mainstream media (TV and radio) reveals that Mercer was an actor hired to play a role, it claims Mercerism is fake. The story does not reconcile that claim against fact, the reader is left wondering: Is Mercerism fake? Is the media portraying Mercerism in a false light to subjugate it? Are androids in control of the media? We are told that the act of fusing with Mercer is not understood by androids because of their lack of empathy. Perhaps if a large enough portion of the population stops engaging in fusion, empathy in humans will drop to a point which would make the Voight-Kampff test unreliable?

Later in the story a point is made that androids would make good bounty hunters. They don't have empathy for other androids after all. We learn that Deckard also has some trouble fusing, or at least does not undergo fusing as regularly as others. Deckard is also posed the question whether he has taken the test himself - he says it is a requirement to joining the force and he has, but this is countered by the idea that since joining he could have been replaced by a replica. These questions cast doubt on the character's reality, and in doing so, our perception of his reality. Deckard's doubt reinforces his will to own a living animal, with the belief that an android is incapable of caring for another living thing. He is vindicated when buying a goat, but only briefly. Rachel Rosen kills the creature as revenge for not having her affections returned.

The electric sheep is reference to the sheep Deckard owns. Animals are a commodity, and Mercerism says that owning an animal is a moral duty. When his sheep died he had it replaced by an electric replica. Deckard later questions whether androids dream, and if so, do they dream of electric sheep? This alludes having ambitions and wants, like a real person.
show less

I have always sort of wondered about whether or not I should read this book, as Blade Runner has been one of my favorite/most-fascinated-by movies ever since I saw the (now alien-to-me) theatrical cut on UPN's Sunday Afternoon Movie (there's some self-dating for you) with Harrison Ford delivering his monologue over an eternally nocturnal Los Angeles. I found it for $4 at Green Apple Books and said what the hell.

Dick's writing is sparse, but deeply fascinating. Deckard here is a much more troubled man than the noir protagonist in Blade Runner, the decaying San Francisco(!) just as fascinating as, but entirely different from, the movie's LA. I was sucked into this book somewhere around the halfway point and couldn't stop, and the ending's show more revelation was like a hammer blow to the head.

I'm still a little reading-loopy from finishing this (see also my Little, Big review), but I'll sign off by saying that this is a classic for a reason, and that I like to think I now have some kind of psychic connection to Philip K. Dick (as I have walked by the Mission Street SFPD station in San Francisco a bunch of times, and it has always given me a weird feeling). show less

Great Sci-fi piece!

The world is dead after World War “Terminus”. Those who remain in Earth deem life as sacred, to the point where it is considered immoral not to care for an animal. Most humans however have migrated to Mars thanks to the terraforming done there by Androids. Now the Androids serve as humanity’s slaves in Mars... and many want to escape their destiny. Those who do are chased by Bounty Hunters dedicated to locate and “retire” these “illegal aliens”. Enter Rick Deckard, bounty hunter... and his electric sheep.

Phillip K. Dick immerses his readers in a philosophical work that makes us question how we see and value life. What does it mean to be alive? What kind of life is worth living? What kind of life is worth show more terminating?

Profound, intriguing, and very fun to read... especially for one who grew up watching the Harrison Ford movie and playing the video game by Westwood Studios; I find myself admiring and loving this franchise a lot more after reading the source material.

9.5/10 show less

Most folks engaged in conversation about Blade Runner, the movie version of Philip K. Dick’s [Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?], are obsessed with which version is best: the version with Harrison Ford’s voice over or Ridley Scott’s Director’s Cut. The real conversation should be about what is the essential quality that defines humanity, as that is what Dick intended.

In a post-apocolyptic world choked with radioactive dust, humans must pass tests to determine if they possess the level of intelligence for immigration to colonization efforts on Mars and other worlds. One of the perks of immigration is the gift of a human-like android. But androids are illegal on Earth, and they are hunted by bounty hunters like Rick Deckard. show more Deckard identifies illegal androids who have returned to Earth by giving them an empathy test, measuring their natural capacity to feel for other living things, especially animals.

Dick’s quirky novel can pass for merely science fiction if that’s what you’re looking for. But just under the surface, Dick probes issues of social control and moral absolutes. The philosophy coursing through the veins of the story demand repeated and close reading.

Bottom Line: A quirky and fun science fiction read on one level and a deeply philosophical treatise on the nature of humanity on another level.

4 bones!!!! show less

I read this book because Blade Runner went completely over my head. I now have to watch it over again, because reading this book did absolutely nothing to enlighten me.

My friend insisted that I had to see the 1998 Harrison Ford/Ridley Scott hyperdepressing cult classic, and I didn't get it. Granted, this may be largely because I watched it with a bunch of friends at 11 PM while the guy next to me tried not to pass out from post-finals crazy, and we demolished at least one bottle of good red wine in the process. Also, Lore kept making text-referential jokes about the movie, which means I missed a lot of the dialog in addition to having no idea what she was talking about.

Basically, I was bored. I couldn't follow what was happening, didn't show more like the characters, and was disinterested to the point that I do not remember the plot. I remember Space. I remember Harrison Ford Angst. I remember something with friggin silver metal unicorns. I remember thinking just how much I disliked Philip K. Dick adaptations, having been subjected to two in four days by the same bloody woman.

You know what I don't remember from the movie? Sheep. I definitely would have remembered the sheep.

The electric animals are heart-wrenching. Surrogate animals, despised at first, used as a facsimile of life as the future's tech wars/space race. Instead of coveting the latest technology, the people of the post-apocalyptic world revere all living organisms and dub spiders sacrosanct. I can get behind that world, in all honesty. Not to the extent that I want to mortgage my property to put a goat on the roof, but okay.

With the introduction of electric sheep, this transformed from something I was reading because I was, for no apparent reason, in a mood to read Philip K. Dick, to a book I couldn't put down. I read this almost straight through. It's a book about civil rights, but more interestingly, about what it means to be alive. At one point, Rick Deckard -- an infinitely more interesting human being in the text contrasted with the movie, I might add, where he was Indiana Jones with some serious manic depressive issues -- starts thinking about his electric sheep and wonders why he is compelled to care for it. The tyranny of an object.

At the same time, you have parallel images of Deckard hunting down androids and a delivery boy who picks up the electric animals to take them to be repaired. Some people, it seems, become attached to their electric animals despite the stigma against owning a mechanical bird.

Then there's a lot of stuff about God and some clever roundabout references to a God Machine. Heh.

It's... I don't know. I was less interested in the androids than I was in the electric animals. Even though they were clearly supposed to be two sides of the same coin, I felt more empathy for the circuit board livestock than the non-empathic (but sentient) humanoid robots. Maybe it's just what the animals represented that got to me.

And that's why I didn't like Blade Runner. They didn't have electric sheep. show less