The Overlords, with their vast knowledge and incomprehensible technology, are the epitome of scientific rationalism, existing in tension with any form of mysticism. They represent the potential of science to create a better future for Earth, while at the same time showing the limits of such development in the way that it diminishes one’s openness to the spiritual, supernatural, and paranormal. This resistance prevents the Overlords from achieving any form of transcendence beyond the physical world by joining the Overmind.
The Overlords also contribute heavily to the religious undertones of the story. Their physical appearance is that of the Devil of classic religious imagery—black-skinned, barb-tailed, leathery-winged, and horned. This appearance relates to their character and function in the story in a number of ways. On the one hand, it is ironic that the Overlords look like devils, since they effectively take up the role of guardian angels—they step in to stop humanity from destroying itself with nuclear weapons or latent psychic abilities, and they miraculously intervene to rescue Jeffrey from the tsunami. At the same time the descriptor is fitting—as paragons of rationalism, the Overlords bring down organized religion (though unintentionally) and usher in a materialist utopia. Due to their rationalism, they are unable to join the Overmind, who figures as both a god-like entity and a transcendent, non-religious version of heaven. The Overlords, like the Devil and his aides, are cut off from “God” and barred from entering “heaven” for eternity, doomed to die in darkness.
The Overlords, as the proverbial devils, both protect humanity from self-destruction and offer it a utopian Earth to live on, and yet, by the stagnation that comes with utopia, rob humanity of its soul. In effect, the Overlords represent a Faustian bargain: humanity can have health, wealth, and prosperity, but only at the cost of their spirit—that is, the thing that drives them to grow and progress.
The Overlords Quotes in Childhood’s End
He felt no regrets as the work of a lifetime was swept away. He had labored to take man to the stars, and now the stars—the aloof, indifferent stars—had come to him.
“Can you deny that the Overlords have brought security, peace, and prosperity to the world?”
“That is true, but they have taken our liberty. Man does not live—”
“—by bread alone. Yes, I know—but this is the first age in which every man was sure of getting even that.”
With the arrival of the Overlords, nations knew that they need no longer fear each other, and they guessed—even before the experiment was made—that their existing weapons were certainly impotent against a civilization that could bridge the stars. So at once the greatest single obstacle to the happiness of mankind had been removed.
“I can understand your fear that the traditions and cultures of little countries will be overwhelmed when the world state arrives. But you are wrong: it is useless to cling to the past. Even before the Overlords came to Earth, the sovereign state was dying. They have merely hastened its end.”
Fifty years is ample time in which to change a world and its people almost beyond recognition. All that is required for the task are a sound knowledge of social engineering, a clear sight of the intended goal—and power.
Man was, therefore, still a prisoner on his own planet. It was a much fairer, but a much smaller, planet than it had been a century before. When the Overlords had abolished war and hunger and disease, they had also abolished adventure.
The human race continued to bask in the long, cloudless summer afternoon of peace and prosperity. Would there ever be a winter again? It was unthinkable. The age of reason, prematurely welcomed by the leaders of the French Revolution two and a half centuries before, had now really arrived. This time, there was no mistake.
Yet among all the distractions and diversions of a planet which now seemed well on the way to becoming one vast playground, there were some who still found time to repeat an ancient and never-answered question:
“Where do we go from here?”
“It is a bitter thought, but you must face it. The planets you may one day possess. But the stars are not for man.”
Suppose, in [the Overlords’] altruistic passion for justice and order, they had determined to reform the world, but had not realized that they were destroying the soul of man?
The universe was vast, but that fact terrified him less than its mystery. George was not a person who thought deeply on such matters, yet it sometimes seemed to him that men were like children amusing themselves in some secluded playground, protected from the fierce realities of the outer world.
Twenty years ago, the Overlords had announced that they had discontinued all use of their surveillance devices, so that humanity no longer need consider itself spied upon. However, the fact that such devices still existed meant that nothing could be hidden form the Overlords if they really wanted to see it.
Nothing in [New] Athens was done without a committee, that ultimate hallmark of the democratic method […] Because the community was not too large, everyone in it could take some part in its running and could be a citizen in the truest sense of the word.
“Everybody on the island has one ambition, which may be summed up very simply. It is to do something, however small it may be, better than anyone else. Of course, it’s an ideal we don’t all achieve. But in this modern world, the great thing is to have an ideal. Achieving it is considerably less important.”
This was a thought that had never occurred to [George]. He had subconsciously assumed that the Overlords possessed all knowledge and all power—that they understood, and were probably responsible for, the things that had been happening to Jeff.
“All of our sojourn here has been based on a vast deception, a concealment of truths which you were not ready to face.”
“And do you not resent being used as a tool by the Overmind?”
“The arrangement has some advantages: besides, no one of intelligence resists the inevitable.”
That proposition, Jan reflected wryly, had never been fully accepted by mankind.
For all their achievements, thought Karellen, for all their mastery of the physical universe, his people were no better than a tribe that has passed its whole existence upon some flat and dusty plain. Far off were the mountains, where power and beauty dwelt […] And they could only watch and wonder; they could never scale those heights.