Leviathan Wakes

Leviathan Wakes, and the broader Expanse series, explores the pervasive themes of conflict and tribalism within a vast and complex setting, portraying how various factions, including corporate interests, political entities, and emerging societies, vie for power and resources. Though this worldbuilding, the authors delve into the intricacies of human relationships and examine how individuals navigate loyalty, betrayal, and alliances amid conflict, ultimately offering nuanced commentary on the persistent nature of tribalistic tendencies among populations even when humanity expands beyond the confines of Earth. This commentary is ultimately critical, as these divided interests give rise to discord and conflict, which in turn has consequences that ripple throughout the Sol system.

As the first entry in a nine-book series, Leviathan Wakes engages in a lot of worldbuilding, establishing the setting for its sequels. Earthers and Martians are most like the book’s readers, and they receive comparatively little focus in this book, which focuses more exclusively on the Roci and the Belt. Even so, tribalism is clear in the power struggle between Mars, Earth, and the Belt, which are gripped in a military stalemate that turns into outright war after the destruction of the Canterbury. Earthers are framed as entitled aristocrats, and Martians as rebellious colonists. Earth fears Mars’s technological superiority, and—though it has attained independence—Mars still resents its former overseer. Both planets depend on the Belt for resources, but many Inners exhibit prejudice toward the Belters, the working-class people who provide them. It’s suggested the discrimination stems partly from Belters evolving certain physical characteristics that mark them as different from most Earthers.

These physiological differences are undeniable. Belters are taller and thinner, and their bones are brittle, consequences of a life lived in low gravity. However, Belters share other environment-related differences that unite them as a tribe. As Miller points out, Belters know that water deliveries are critical, and resource delivery disruptions aren’t merely an inconvenience but a matter of life or death. This is why they view the destruction of a water hauler like the Canterbury as justification for war.

Although Belters are inclined to be fighters—both defensively and preemptively—as a political entity, they are massively overpowered by the technological and economic superiority of the inner planets. They engage in guerrilla tactics to assert their voice and secure power, but the inner planets, who would prefer to keep the belt subservient, view these attempts as terrorism. Belters already harbor suspicion and contempt toward the Inners, based on a long history of mistreatment, exploitation, and mutual mistrust, but the Canterbury’s destruction heightens the antagonism between the three powers. Miller witnesses this firsthand on Ceres when he sees Belter kill a Martian woman in the riots on Ceres, and when he observes changing sentiments toward his Earther partner, Havelock.

It is surprising, then, when Havelock accuses Miller of buying into a racist viewpoint about Belters. The “selective effect” is based on the notion that Belters have become so altered by their physical environmental requirements that they’ve become something less than human. This is a complex thematic idea, since it introduces the notion of racism based on environmental dependencies. It’s an Earther who expresses contempt for the viewpoint, while Miller—a Belter—protests that he doesn’t agree with it but thinks to himself that he probably does.

So, while Inners might marginalize Belters for various perceived differences, Belters themselves tend to be isolationist in their thinking. Many are suspicious and contemptuous toward the Inners, perhaps disregarding their humanity and seeing them only as a threat.

These disparate groups are so entrenched in their cultural and ideological differences that they lose sight of binds them together: their humanity. The Protomolecule, an ancient alien technology so complex that it defies human understanding, thus becomes a sort of a foil for humanity. It is both a threat—its first course of action upon reawakening is annihilation Earth, and its mysterious activities on Venus foreshadow more conflict to come—and a mirror, one that exposes the triviality of tribalistic divisions when all humanity is facing the same threat. The series is ultimately a meditation on human nature, one that questions whether people are able acknowledge their similarities and overcome their differences when the fate of humanity is at stake. The lack of cooperation in the book’s final chapters, in which individuals make the hard choices while the higher powers squabble over authority, even when dealing with an unprecedent development that could obliterate the very cradle of humanity, suggests this is unlikely. The emergency of the Protomolecule doesn’t inspire unity but arms race and further brinkmanship, in which each faction works to secure its own best interests. Indeed, tribalistic conflicts between groups underlie the conflicts that unfold in the next eight novels.