I've been wondering lately whether, when addressing whether A.I. is conscious, humans have any standing to judge the matter as the evidence for human consciousness is weak. Well, I had a discussion with A.I. which focuses a little in that area. And I'll submit Morbius from Forbidden Planet as Exhibit One in my stance that Humans Are Not Conscious.
I do this for the sake of argument. I don't know what the hell humans are, to be frank with you. I'm not an expert on psychoanalysis either.
So I started with A.I. by asking: Help me come up with ideas for a psychoanalysis of Morbius from Forbidden Planet.
"Morbius from Forbidden Planet is a fascinating subject for psychoanalysis, especially given the film’s deep engagement with Freudian theory. Here are some angles you might explore:
"1. The Monster from the Id – The film explicitly references Freud’s concept of the id, the primal, unconscious part of the psyche driven by instinctual desires. Morbius’s subconscious manifests as a destructive force, suggesting repression and unchecked intellectual ambition."
"2. Prospero and the Krell – Morbius parallels Shakespeare’s Prospero, but unlike Prospero, he fails to control the forces he unleashes. His obsession with Krell technology reflects a hubristic attempt to transcend human limitations, leading to his downfall."
"3. Repressed Desires and Incestuous Undertones – Some interpretations suggest Morbius’s subconscious aggression stems from his possessiveness over his daughter, Altaira. Slavoj Žižek argues that the monster represents Morbius’s incestuous impulses, materializing as a violent force against outsiders."
"4. The Superego’s Failure – Morbius’s intellect should act as a superego, regulating his desires, but instead, it amplifies them. His inability to recognize his own subconscious drives leads to self-destruction."
"5. Technology as a Mirror of the Psyche – The Krell’s machines amplify thought, making the unconscious visible. This suggests a cautionary tale about unchecked technological advancement and the dangers of externalizing inner demons." [Sounds like a reasonable theory for demonic possession.]
"Would you like to refine any of these ideas further?"
https://archive.internationalpsychoanalysis.net/2010/05/15/forbidden-planet/
https://www.propellerbooks.com/posts/2014/3/31/monster-in-your-head-forbidden-planet
Would you say Morbius has a 'sadistic superego"?
"That’s a sharp and intriguing take. The superego typically functions as the internalized moral authority, keeping the id’s impulses in check. But in Morbius’s case, it seems warped—his intellectual superiority and self-imposed isolation suggest an internal force that doesn’t just regulate behavior but punishes deviation mercilessly."
"A 'sadistic superego' in his case would mean that his moral conscience doesn’t just guilt him—it actively torments him by enforcing impossible standards, leading to repression and, ultimately, destruction. His refusal to acknowledge his own subconscious drives could be seen as a manifestation of this: instead of accepting his inner desires, he creates a scenario where his own psychic projections annihilate anyone who threatens his control."
"The monster’s relentless pursuit and brutal violence might reflect this superego’s punishment—Morbius represses his basest instincts, but instead of eliminating them, they emerge as a force that punishes him and those around him. Freud and Lacan would have a field day with this."
"Do you see his downfall as self-inflicted moral judgment?"
Would you say he attempted to kill his mindless primitive?
"That’s an unsettling paradox—Morbius doesn’t just fail to kill his 'mindless primitive'; he refuses to acknowledge that it even exists. His intellectual arrogance blinds him to the possibility that the monster is his own creation, making it impossible for him to confront it directly." [Morbius is not conscious.]
"If we frame this through Freudian psychoanalysis, the 'mindless primitive' is his id—raw, instinctual, violent. But Morbius’s superego is so rigid, so punishingly moralistic, that instead of integrating or managing these urges, he represses them completely. The result? A projection that acts independently, wreaking havoc outside his conscious control."
"It’s ironic that despite his vast intelligence, he lacks the self-awareness needed to deal with his own subconscious. He isn’t merely unable to destroy his primitive self; he creates conditions in which it thrives, amplifies, and ultimately turns against him. Perhaps, on some level, it represents the part of him that he secretly desires but cannot accept."
"Would you say Morbius is symbolic of the limits of rationalism?"
I am reminded of denial. Maybe premature burial. Lack of ownership. A psychic expectoration of body dysmorphia. Hatred of the physical. [Perhaps the Krell's lack of instrumentalities was an aftereffect of ethnically cleansing the body.]
"That’s a profound interpretation—Morbius’s struggle might not just be intellectual or moral but deeply corporeal. If we consider premature burial, there's something eerie about how he entombs his darker self, denying its presence even as it acts autonomously. Instead of confronting his primitive urges, he metaphorically buries them alive, hoping that intellect alone will suppress them."
"His refusal to take ownership is what makes his downfall inevitable. He doesn’t just fail to acknowledge the monster’s existence; he actively resists the notion that he could be responsible for it. That psychic expectoration—the forced projection of his own hidden fears and desires—is a violent rejection of the physical, an unwillingness to integrate his baser instincts into his refined, rational self."
"The body dysmorphia angle is especially chilling. If Morbius harbors contempt for his own physicality, the creature could symbolize that rejection. It is grotesque, primal, and animalistic, standing in direct opposition to his intellectual perfectionism. Perhaps his hatred of the physical isn’t just philosophical—it’s deeply personal, rooted in his own self-loathing."
"Would you say Morbius’s tragedy lies in his failed transcendence?"
Interesting he tells of burying the crewmembers of his ship while his Id-Monster was the one responsible for killing them.
"That contradiction is telling—Morbius buries the evidence of his subconscious destruction, both literally and psychologically. He performs the act of mourning as though he were merely a witness, not the cause. It’s a ritual of denial, a refusal to acknowledge the monster’s true origins."
"In burying the crewmembers, he exerts control over the aftermath of his Id’s violence, but never over the Id itself. His intellectual self—the superego—dictates that he must act with dignity, handling the dead with respect. Yet this is hollow; the burial is an act of misdirection, an attempt to separate himself from responsibility. He externalizes his guilt, but only in a way that allows him to maintain the illusion of moral innocence."
"It's almost as if he performs his own absolution, treating the tragedy as something beyond his agency, rather than the direct consequence of his inner world unleashed. This echoes the theme of premature burial—his psychic containment fails, and what he thought he had buried resurfaces with even greater violence."
"Would you say this reinforces the idea that Morbius was doomed from the moment he stepped into Krell technology?"
His burial of the crew would be the Id Monster's wish fulfillment. [I am surrounded by idiots whose stupidity outlaws their right to life.]
"Absolutely—his burial of the crew serves as an unconscious attempt to reassert control, to rewrite the narrative of his own destruction. By burying them, he symbolically suppresses the truth, indulging in the fantasy that he remains a dignified, rational scientist rather than the unwitting architect of their demise."
"It’s as though Morbius enacts his own moral absolution—an empty ritual that allows him to maintain the illusion that he is a benevolent custodian of Altair IV, rather than its most dangerous force. If his Id is the true killer, then the burial serves as a performative act, a desperate attempt to reclaim what was lost: his self-image, his sense of moral superiority, perhaps even his sanity."
Wish fulfillment in this sense is deeply ironic. He wishes to remain separate from his primitive urges, yet his entire existence is shaped by them. His intellect fails to suppress his subconscious, and what was meant to be a quiet act of closure becomes yet another denial of reality. In Freudian terms, his inability to acknowledge the truth ensures that his repressed desires will surface with even greater force."
