Thoughts on 2001: A Space Odyssey

04/06/2026

Perhaps I'm a bit too late to share some thoughts on 2001: A Space Odyssey which made its debut in 1968, but on the other hand from cinematic point of view it has aged surprisingly very well. Without hesitation I would say it's a timeless classic. It even fits perfectly in current times, where AI got more present in peoples' heads than ever - its potential but too its risks.

On the Odyssey

Stanley Kubrick, the producer and co-writer of the story together with Arthur C. Clark, portrays literally the evolution of mankind. It covers up the early stages of primats to a species that's able to fly to Jupiter and beyond.
Further, the work raises the question of the role of the human race in the vastness of universe and reflects on how tools shape us and vice versa. In the movie, evolutionary progress is driven by a strangly smooth, cold, alien-looking monolith. Throughout the movie it is never completely explained what it represents, neither its true meaning: Is it a metaphor for human unique ability to learn and think in abstract patterns or a continuation of the pansperma theory, where not only did one non-terrestial interlude change the course of life - namely the settlement of life itself - but evolution, too, was influenced by something like a kind of older civilisation?

Humanity traveled a long way to become a species no longer dependent on Earth. Its ancestors who were still prey to predators such as tigers, lived as gatheres and used their hands as their only tools to interact with the world. They were the first to behold this very monolith. There is no direct evidence of causal cause but a few sequences after the group of primals touched the strange structure, there were the first who thought of using bones as weapons. This had drastic consequences: They become hunters and, thus, were no longer helpless prey.

The next time the monolith become active is different: It is discovered as an anomaly in the magnetic field on the moon surface. As the group of scientists around Dr. Heywood Floyd met up in front of the monolith to take a photo, a high-pitched signal is emitted to Jupiter, where hypothetically is some kind of transponder. Six month later, a science team taking the voyage to Jupiter to study whatever they will find there. This is simutainously the farthest distance humanity has ever been away from Earth which emphasizes the role of the monolith as catalyst of evolutionary events.

But the mission doesn't take place as planned: A HAL-9000 - sometimes sarcastically outspoken as "Hell" - computer, known for never having made a single error, manipulated the mission by firstly spreading misinformation about a damaged antenna, than by taking more drastic options by killing one of the two pilots and the whole scientifc team which was in hibernation sleep during the flight. A known theory to explain this malfunction of HAL is an inner conflict: He was programmed to withhold any information about the objective of the mission - the monolith - to the crew as long as they were flying to Jupiter but has to simutainously process any information correctly and distortionless. So, the logical step for him to solve the paradox was to kill the crew (in his words the error is always on the human side).

The horror of HAL

The story isn't over yet, but I wanted to talk about my opinion on HAL. Personally, I think he is one of the most scariest parts of 2001 besides the ending sequence I will talk about soon. The red lights, which are his eyes all around the Discovery I are so unpredictable and emotionless which make them feel more comparable to shut doors than an entity with feelings - or even human. Combine that with the sterile, ever too friendly, kind of persuasive voice and you want to crawl underneath a blanket. Personally, the shutdown scene of HAL was the climax of creepy feelings I had about him because his last words were parts of the lyrics of the song "Daisy Bell", sung by a deep, highly distorted voice.

"I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I am afraid."

Though, I've said there's nearly no way to feel empathic about HAL, his fear of death and decay is too human to not be affected by it. A machine capable of being concious about his own presence and its way to absence, raises the question when the gap between intelligent organic beings and machines disappear. When is something made of wires aware of itself to feel? Which requirements have to be met? Are humans just the same - thinking computers - but made of carbon?

Another theory what HAL could represent is the human stubbornness and selfishness. A thought subliminal in our brain that we don't make mistakes, that we judge rightous. The other side of the coin, which wants to stay the best in everything and contradicts the thought of being pushed aside by something bigger and beyond comprehension for the human mind.

Whatever he is on, I need this too

It is unreasonable to think that Stanley Kubrick wanted to show a drug trip experienced by Dave Bowman, but to be fair it resembles one too much to not be afraid loosing touch with reality when staring on the screen for too long. The what it feels like never ending scene of Dave Bowman, the last alive crew member, finally reaching Jupiter and transcending into a some kind of transdimensional space in which he visits entirely new galaxies, planets and landscapes, ends in a even more werid, perhaps even haunting scene, which is known as the zoo of the hypothetical higher entities which created or are the monolith.

Awareness of mortality is the highest form of evolution!?

The grotesque, stereotypical, out of place looking victorian room with clinically clean floor, is Bowman's last stop before tranforming to a new kind of being: the "star child". Bowman sees his life literally flashing before his eyes. He grows older and older while discovering the zoo but not as one person, but as the younger self looking at his older one.

So: Is the realisation of mortality and insignificance as consequence of life the highest form of enlightment a species can archive after the several ego-boosts by its own might and technology. Is modesty the the furthest step in evolution? To accept? Maybe it is, maybe it's not: that's up to you. In my perspective and based on what is happening in the world right now, that's a destination worth aiming for.

This work is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0