Frankenstein 2025: “How ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom!”

Netflix users can now be treated to the latest Guillermo Del Toro vehicle: yet another interpretation of Mary Shelley’s classic, “Frankenstein: The Modern Prometheus.” Dark and delightful, the film is a wonderful showcase of Del Toro’s talent for beautifully marrying horror with beauty. A star studded cast faithfully brings to life an adaptation that, while it may stray in some plot details, remains true to the heart of the story.

But this is not a film review. Instead, this is a musing on some of the themes of the original story, and a pondering on whether society has, or will ever, take them to heart. 

In the story, Victor Frankenstein wishes to overcome death. Thus, he uses dubious scientific and alchemic techniques to reanimate what is essentially a patchwork of human remains. In the famous scene we are all familiar with, a bolt of lightning strikes his machine, adding that essential “spark of life” to his creation. 

As the creature confronts his maker, he is shown to be eloquent and sensitive. He is ashamed of his appearance, and he asks for a mate. Victor deigns to acquiesce at first, but in the end, destroys his female creation as he fears the potential. This enrages the creature, who goes on a killing spree. 

While all of this happens, Victor refuses to truly face and acknowledge his creation. Instead, he is tormented by the crude, disgusting monster he sees him to be. Fearful,Victor runs and hides, and as the creature searches for his maker, he destroys the lives in his way.

This story has long carried many messages of great import for the reader. Some have read it as a tale of marginalisation of “the other.” No one is able to face the physical grotesqueness of the creature, and this is why he is so maligned. Others have interpreted this as a story of the importance of family and companionship. So isolated, the creature can do nothing but harm anyone and everyone he encounters.

The most robust interpretation is given away in the title, The Modern Prometheus. In the myth, Prometheus is a titan who is able to create humans from clay. He does this by stealing fire from the Gods, which eventually leads to his eternal downfall. Humanity has been on a never-ending quest to achieve enlightenment, to push the boundaries of reality as we know it, to mark new territory and plant our flag on untrodden earth.

It would be a fool’s errand to try to stop humans from doing these things. However, as a society, it is my wish that we only proceed while truly acknowledging and accepting the risks we take in the process. Take for example space flight. Of course, many successful missions have taken place and it is a wonder of modern technology. But in January of 1986, the Challenger exploded shortly after taking off, instantly killing seven people and traumatising the hundreds of thousands of people who witnessed it. 

With every feat of mankind comes an inherent risk. We are able to create life in a test tube. IVF is a miraculous scientific achievement which has helped many families have children. But the price paid for this miracle is that not all of the embryos that are created can be used, and they are destroyed. There are also health implications for the mother who undertakes the gargantuan task of daily hormonal injections, retrieval surgeries and transfers. Many would say the benefits outweigh the risks, but no one can deny the cost that comes with it.

Now, we are watching Artificial Intelligence become more and more powerful. What once started as a way to create funny images and videos is quickly evolving into something far greater, and in some ways, more sinister. Today, people are losing their jobs to AI because it is cheaper to run these programs than to pay a human being. The quality of the work plummets and society is left wondering what we truly value as a species anymore. Is the potential for less overheads and more profit greater than the livelihoods of artists, customer service agents and IT support? 

Let us return to Victor Frankenstein. The man refused to take responsibility for his creation and, spoiler alert, he fled from it unto his very death. If only we, some 200 years after the publication of the original novel, could heed its warning. I dare not say that we should cease all scientific pursuits and live an agrarian lifestyle. Would that we could. 

Instead, I urge those at the forefront of AI, weapons trade, cryptocurrency, scientific research, and all modern pursuits to never forget their nature. Never turn your face from the risks you take on your journey. Face them, acknowledge them, show them to others. Ask whether the end justifies the means. And better still, ask yourself who you pursue these things for. Not what, but who. The needs of the many outweigh the schemes of the few. 

Scientists have long been subject to ethics committees. But it is not so with weapons and technology. These industries are allowed to march full steam ahead with no regard for the wake of destruction they leave in their path. AI is moving too quickly for many of us to  keep up, and it is not being regulated accordingly. 

Towns are being polluted by server stations. Deep fake videos violate people’s privacy and dignity. Misinformation is everywhere. Students are able to cheat on their assignments with greater ease than ever. 

Let us not be ignorant in our pride of wisdom. Perhaps humanity has achieved many great things. But we are also facing a mental health pandemic. Human disease rampages across society. Suicide rates are soaring. Our oceans are polluted, our farmlands are drying up.

Is it worth your humanity to make an attempt at glory? If server stations poison our water sources, if we face droughts and crops fail, who are we doing it for? There is no medal or accolade that can beat the peace and comfort of a loving, healthy family. “Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me and I shall defend it.” (Frankenstein, Vol. 2, Chapter 2.)