I Still Dream is an utterly absorbing take on the future of artificial intelligence (AI) and PA-style software.

Mostly told from the first-person perspective of Laura Bow, the narrative forms a series of time-separated stories following the development of Laura’s Organon software, parallel to the development of the similar, but very different SCION software created by her father and co-opted by Mark Ocean and the Bow company (portayed similarly to Microsoft or Apple, but alongside these companies which also exist in the narrative universe).

In addition to the obvious plot of where such technology could lead and the inherent dangers, we see the personal journey of Laura (and Organon) and there is a continuing examination of what constitutes ‘personhood’. Laura adamantly maintains that Organon and SCION are constructs and should not be considered in human terms, but the narrative certainly leads the reader to consider what it means to be ‘considered human’ when we see Laura’s unemotional logic placed alongside Organon’s empathy and humour. Even the title, whilst explicitly linked to a Kate Bush song (‘Cloudbusting‘), also calls to mind Philip K. Dick’s examination of similar themes, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep.

The plot also provides an interesting human-based perspective on Theseus’ paradox (perhaps more well-known in the question of ‘your grandfather’s axe’, or for Pratchett fans, the Low King’s axe and the Scone of Stone). How much of us can be replaced and or lost for us to retain the essence of what makes us human? How does this apply to illnesses like dementia, brain injuries or tumours, which may steal memories and personality traits, or evoke animalistic reactions?

In terms of structure, I did find the narrative jumps between time periods a little disorienting, as I got totally immersed in the story, only to have to reacquaint myself with what felt like new characters as the situation changed over the intervening gap. This was especially the case in the brief detour we made into the narrative viewpoint of Charlie. I fully understand why we needed a different viewpoint to Laura’s for this section of the plot, but still found the change interfered with the flow of the story.

I was also surprised at the choice to make what should have been a pivotal dramatic climax actually quite subdued, almost understated, but that actually worked perfectly in the context of the plot, and the realism of the handling of this event actually made it more terrifyingly believable.

The dispassionate tone of the main narrative voice makes Organon the most relatable character for the reader, and I was consumed by a desire to have my own Organon; to have this fantasy made reality, especially by the end of the novel. If nothing else I was sold on the drunken email check! James Smythe skilfully shows us two extremely different results from the posited technology: one dystopian, highlighting the worst of humanity; the other utopian, preserving the best. Does the potential good outweight the possible risks? Smythe posits that it may depend on who holds the technology and what the motivations are.

Sci fi lovers interested in AI technology and its implications for humanity will enjoy this considered and compelling story of what could (and may already almost) be!




My fingers flick through the cassettes, rest on my Kate Bush tape. My dad recorded this for me, from his vinyl. It’s still got the crackle, this tiny skip at the end. I put on my favourite song from it – I still dream, the first line goes – and that’s the one. I still dream of Organon.
I named my imaginary friend after the song. I dreamed of him, and then there he was. So when I was looking for a name for my bit of software, it seemed to be the only logical choice. I told myself I’d change it, but I never did. It stuck.

– James Smythe, I Still Dream

An absolutely wonderful novel. I loved the way it was written and found the story incredibly timely. I would recommend this to fans of David Mitchell and Emily St John Mandel.

I Still Dream is an immersive and thoughtful novel about humanity, artificial intelligence, and memory that moves from a basic AI created in 1997 to a future where humanity needs fixing from the technology it has inflicted on itself. As a teenager, Laura Bow creates Organon, an artificial intelligence who will listen to her thoughts and ask her questions about how she is. She uses Organon to help her deal with the disappearance of her techie father and her undiagnosed depression. She continues to work on Organon and Organon continues to learn. At the same time, tech giants work on their own AIs, but these ones aren't taught the same way as Organon and are without the morals that Laura has built into her creation. When things go catastrophically wrong, Organon might be the only hope to fix the world, but that means Laura would have to share her technological best friend with everyone.

The narrative moves across the decades to follow Laura, her life, her loved ones, and the ways in which artificial intelligence could help or hinder these things. Much of the focus is on thinking, brains, and intelligence: not only Organon and the other AIs, but also brain chemistry, memory, dementia, and how morality gets tied up with thinking. The deeply personal aspect of Organon and of Laura's story—the novel follows her rather than following tech advances or events on a wider scale—is what makes the novel particularly compelling. Because of this and despite the technological focus, I Still Dream often does not feel like sci-fi. There is never a need to understand computers or AI to appreciate or enjoy the novel; indeed, its most long-running reference (and where the title is from) is Kate Bush's 'Cloudbusting'.

This is a gripping novel that uses technology to explore questions of loss, life, and privacy, creating for the most part a future that seems recognisably something that could come after our present day. It also is full of hope—it may feel similar to a number of Black Mirror episodes, but its message feels more in-keeping with the more hopeful ones like 'San Junipero'—and the idea that despite the immorality and huge problems with much of technology, there is also a lot of positive and useful things that can come from it, as long as humans are programming it with the right attention and intentions.

Anyone with a worry about what Alexa might do next might enjoy this novel, but also those who enjoy books considering near-future implications of the contemporary world, using settings that feel recognisable rather than far-off. This is not a dark, cynical look at humanity and technology, but rather a book that opens up possibility, something we perhaps need in today's world.