‘Foundation’ Season 2 Is A Conversation About Belief and Faith

Image; Apple

Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series, particularly his first three books, was an anthology about a dissident scholar named Hari Seldon using an emergent theory of mathematics called psychohistory to predict the fall of the current Galactic Empire. Hari uses this foresight to establish a countermeasure, the Foundation, that will stave off the chaos of collapse and bring stability to the galaxy. The books are more or less about the first 200 years of that polity’s history as it struggles to meet this objective.

And so Apple+ had the challenge of adapting a series of short stories and novellas spanning across time, place, and characters and trying to make them into one cohesive narrative — at least if it wanted to follow the conventions of popular storytelling.

What came out of this attempt was a narrative not about science triumphing over ignorance but a battle of faith. Hari Seldon’s psychohistory is depicted in religious terms, waging a war of belief against the dogmas of the Empire and other emergent factions (note: YouTuber Just Write has an excellent breakdown of the religious themes in the first season).

The second season doubles down on this theme, and it’s better for it. We not only get better writing and direction this season but also have a more nuanced exploration surrounding faith and belief.

A conversation surrounding faith

From my perspective, the thesis for the entire season is articulated in the episode Why the Gods Made Wine. Scientism High Claric Poly Verisof (Kulvinder Ghir) is talking to Brother Constant (Isabella Laughland) about how she has more resolve in the religion than him, saying:

“I'm not sure what I’ve been clinging on to all these years is faith…When Hari Seldon walked out of the vault, I saw him with my own eyes. All of us there, we had proof. But you and your generation, you only had second or thirdhand accounts to go by. Folklore. That's the difference between belief and faith. I believed what I saw, but faith is a bigger commitment.”

It’s this tension between faith and belief that we see highlighted again and again on the show.

For example, the Empire certainly has belief in its power because its technological and military superiority allows it to do whatever it pleases. The rulers of the Empire — i.e., the three clones of Cleon I, named Dawn (Cassian Bilton), Day (Lee Pace), and Dusk (Terrence Mann), and collectively and individually referred to as Empire — are confident in their abilities because when they act, planets are bombed into oblivion, territorial borders are remade, and grand megaprojects are built.

They can see it with their eyes.

Last season, Day punished a dissident, not by killing her, but by tracking everyone she ever had contact with and then wiping them from existence (see episode The Leap). These people feel they can do whatever they want — at least to a point.

Yet its leaders don’t appear to have faith in the Empire on a spiritual level, as defined by High Claric Poly Verisof. This season, we learn that Empire (i.e., Dawn, Day, and Dusk) have all been programmed to follow a path they cannot deviate from. Cleon rather maliciously ensured that their memories were constantly being edited for compliance, and if they ever stepped out of line, a new version of them was “decanted” so that his original vision continued.

Cleon’s vision is overseen by Empire’s robotic majordomo Demerzel (Laura Birn ), who is programmed to uphold the Empire above all else. She has no control over this directive; in fact, even her emotional reality is dedicated by it. She is the definition of an object whose belief in the Empire is programmed, not cultivated.

Even the Empire’s subordinates follow more out of fear of what the Empire will do over any intrinsic good they believe it will generate. There is one General in season two named Bel Riose (Ben Daniels), and he states explicitly he’s serving Empire out of fear. He tells his lover: “The emperor’s subjects, all these trillions of people, they’re just…disposable to him. So, as the one man who isn’t, it’s my duty to protect them.”

However, as the conversation between High Claric Poly Verisof and Brother Constant highlights, the Foundation seems to have both faith and belief, and the key to the latter is that it’s rooted in a real thing. Psychohistory, at least in the context of the show, is real. The “miracles” delivered by the Foundation are nothing more than dressed-up science. As High Claric Poly Verisof preaches to Empire: “The Galactic Spirit isn’t supernatural. It’s just progress.”

One can argue that the difference between the Empire and the Foundation, and therefore the difference between belief and faith, is force. These two entities both have a longstanding vision for the future that requires intergenerational buy-in, but one requires browbeating all dissidents into compliance, and the other literally shows its math. All the people who work for the Foundation are theoretically convinced to do so through reasoning, not because of a gun that hangs over their collective heads.

It’s that distinction that, paradoxically, leads to blind faith.

A faithful conclusion

In the show, when Hari Seldon was a little boy, he mapped out the migratory patterns of a local species on his home planet with near certainty. He then walked into that herd and stood where his calculations told him he would be safe. He believed in his math and was willing to die for it—something he would ultimately do in his pursuit of psychohistory (kind of).

The math behind psychohistory is fictional, and on a meta-level, I disagree with its underlining assumptions, which is a tangent for a whole other time. Still, I do believe (pun very much intended) that material proof can lead to faith.

In many ways, this is the story of science. A layperson does not necessarily understand the math behind astrophysics or quantum mechanics, but what makes the system of science work (at least so far) is the knowledge that one could, if given enough time. The difference between you and an expert is information and nothing more, and with that can come a certainty of conviction. We currently live in a time where laypersons all over this country have “Science Is Real” signs in their front yards, committed to an ideal of science, even as the comprehension of day-to-day science is beyond them.

That’s an interesting tension being highlighted in this show. It’s so easy to view science and faith as separate entities, but whether on the world of Terminus or the Earth of here and now, sometimes they can very much intersect.