Pluribus: The Resistance of the “I”

Costantino Esposito - Pluribus, the extraordinary Apple TV series created by Vince Gilligan (the first season ended on December 24), harkens back to an ancient theory developed in the 12th century by the Arab philosopher Averroes.

His theory posited that, despite empirical appearances, individual human beings do not actually think or know. Instead, there is a general, unique, and separate intellect to which individuals connect—much like the relationship between users and the web centuries later. In this view, individuals merely provide the supra-individual intellect with images derived from their senses. But to truly know—to communicate universally so that all men understand the content of a concept—we would need an intellect or soul that is no longer inside, but outside the individual.

Averroes could never have imagined that this would become the existential crisis of Carol Sturka, the show's protagonist. She is grappling with the unresolved drama between the self and others—not only the people we are inevitably related to but the entire human race. If we belong to the whole of humanity just as animals belong to a species, the question arises: If we are merely part of the whole, what remains of the "I"? Is there anything that cannot be reduced to generality—to the universal community—that belongs to us, and only to us, personally?

Carol is a fantasy author whose massive success cannot shield her from perpetual dissatisfaction. She feels constantly out of place, possessed by a consuming restlessness that her partner and agent, Helen, struggles to contain. In short, hers is a "normal" existential condition in an age defined by the loss of the ultimate meaning of life—what we call "nihilism."

But a shocking twist triggers an unprecedented narrative, where the dissatisfaction of the "I" transforms into a rediscovery of the self. A remote signal picked up by an astronomical station alters the destiny of humanity: a strange, alien RNA sequence spreads like a virus. At first traumatic, then almost gentle and idyllic, it transforms all humans into "One." It converts a general mind into a singular reality, turning every "I" into a "We."

The change is so profound that individuals stop using the first-person singular pronoun. The wonderful yet disturbing consequence is simultaneous access to the skills and information of every other person—a fast-food waitress can suddenly fly a plane. Everyone is vegan (though secretly cannibalistic to survive), incapable of lying, and hyper-attentive to the needs of others. Everyone is good, understanding, happy, and optimistic. They are perfect because they are fused into a single biological organism.

"We didn't choose this," says one collective-subject. "It's a biological imperative!"

But Carol isn't buying it. She and—as it turns out—twelve others around the world remain uninfected. These "immune" few endanger the collective "We." If an immune individual gets upset or irritated, the backlash causes paralysis or death for thousands of connected individuals. Consequently, the immune are pampered by the collective humanity, which knows everything about them. The goal is to make them "connect" with the Whole, but the collective can only do this if the immune give their consent.

Soon, the high price of this biological-collectivist harmony becomes clear. The cost is freedom. While everyone enjoys goodness and happiness as a necessary order, the protagonist claims her right to make mistakes and even to be unhappy.

"I have free will, and you cannot interfere!" she shouts in the face of Zosia, a handler assigned to assist and court her. Zosia eventually becomes her lover, though we never know if she acts out of sincere love or to seduce Carol back into the collective "We," perhaps secretly taking possession of her soul through her stem cells.

Attempting to assert the totality of the collective at the expense of individual freedom—whether for ideology or biology, terror or altruism—always leads to violence. Of course, the world claims that true freedom is found in belonging to a supra-individual order where the self finds fulfillment by resolving itself into a quiet totality. They argue that collective happiness is better than personal freedom; otherwise, we are condemned to loneliness.

But Carol discovers that this loneliness is actually an opportunity. It is the chance to understand the kind of relationship the self needs—not to annul itself, but to exist as an "I," unique and unrepeatable.

It is not the charming company of Zosia that will answer this need, but the lasting, difficult, and ultimately free relationship with Manousos Oviedo. Manousos is another "immune" survivor from Paraguay, an unyielding man who, like Carol, wants to find a way to set humanity straight, to "save the world" (the theme of the announced second season).

Why? Because the world cannot be saved except through the freedom of the self. It requires individuals who discover the "We" not as an obligation, but as a need—people who understand that it is not worth gaining the whole world if you lose yourself. The full weight of humanity plays out within a self-aware "I."

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