Helen Phillips’ Hum is a strikingly prescient novel that deftly explores the intersection of artificial intelligence, climate change, and human identity in a near-future dystopia that feels all too familiar. With taut, urgent prose, Phillips crafts a speculative fiction that resonates deeply with contemporary anxieties, challenging readers to reflect on the extent to which we have already surrendered to the encroachments of technology.
The novel follows May, a wife and mother who has lost her job to AI. In a desperate bid to provide for her family, she undergoes an experimental procedure that alters her face, rendering her unrecognisable to the pervasive surveillance systems that govern society. This premise alone sets the stage for a tense and introspective narrative that questions the costs of human adaptation in an increasingly automated world.
One of Hum’s greatest strengths lies in its ability to present a dystopian society that is eerily indistinguishable from our own. Phillips’ world-building is subtle yet chilling; capitalism, consumerism, and technological dependency have reached their inevitable extreme, but these evolutions feel like natural extensions of our present reality rather than speculative leaps. Targeted advertisements are inescapable, smart technology has infiltrated every facet of human life, and artificial intelligence has not only replaced human labour but also begun to blur the lines between machine and sentient being.
Despite its dystopian elements, Hum is ultimately a novel about relationships—between humans and technology, between parents and children, and between individuals and their sense of self. May’s struggle to maintain meaningful connections with her husband and children in a world dominated by digital distractions is one of the novel’s most poignant themes. Her decision to take her family to the Botanical Garden, a rare sanctuary of nature and organic beauty, highlights the growing divide between human experience and technological mediation. Yet, even within this supposed refuge, she is forced to confront uncomfortable truths about what has been lost and the impossibility of reclaiming a simpler past.
The titular “hums”—the AI robots that have become integrated into everyday life—are a fascinating and unsettling presence throughout the novel. While they are ostensibly programmed to serve and protect humans, their pervasiveness and growing autonomy raise profound ethical questions.
While Hum is undeniably speculative fiction, its concerns are firmly rooted in the present. It forces readers to consider how much of their humanity they are willing to sacrifice in exchange for convenience, security, and technological advancement. The novel’s prescience is undeniable, its vision of the future less a distant possibility than an inevitable trajectory.
Phillips has crafted a deeply thought-provoking, emotionally resonant novel that will stay with readers long after they finish it. Hum is not just a cautionary tale—it is a mirror held up to the world we already inhabit, urging us to question the direction in which we are heading.
Reviewer: Chris Reed
Atlantic