There are no working artists in Vince Gilligan’s Pluribus. Carol Sturka (Rhea Seehorn), the show’s protagonist, used to be a successful romantasy novelist, but then a virus of unknown origin swept across the globe, killing millions and uniting its infected survivors into a kind of peaceful, planetary hive mind. Carol was inexplicably spared, along with 12 otherwise unrelated individuals, but she hasn’t really been in a writing mood since the end of the world/dawn of the utopia. The hive mind—which is what I’ll call the shared consciousness of most of the other people on Pluribus—is keen on advancing scientific research as well as pursuing innovations in logistics. But, at least in our limited view of them, it doesn’t seem that the hive mind has any interest in composing symphonies or painting landscapes or, say, writing prestige streaming series. Members of the hive mind methodically gobble up the nutrients they need to survive; the individuals order food and products and services from an essentially limitless menu that the hive mind is eager to fulfill for them. But no one is creating anything. Everyone on Earth is a pure consumer now.

If there’s no new art, that means there are also no critics. This is a point the show spends a relatively significant amount of time demonstrating to us. In the fourth episode of Pluribus, Carol sits down with a hive mind member named Larry (a perfectly cast Jeff Hiller). “Do you like my books?” she asks. And Larry replies, without hesitation, “Oh, we love your books.” But Carol is unsatisfied:

Carol: What do you love about them?
Larry: Everything. Your books are an expression of you, and we love you.
Carol: Need you to be more specific. Character arcs, plot turns …
Larry: Oh, yes, yes, we love the character arcs and the plot turns …
Carol: Which ones?
Larry: All of them.

Understandably, this exchange makes Carol suspect that the hive mind hasn’t actually read her work. But Larry easily demonstrates that he’s done the reading. The problem isn’t that these pod people are inattentive or disingenuous—quite the opposite!—it’s that they don’t have any kind of taste at all. As an amalgam of every consciousness on Earth, they are a single, networked being comprising every opinion, experience, and memory anyone has had, but no sense of discernment. Larry explains that when they think about Carol’s writing, they “experience it through many eyes, many hearts.” The only thing that matters, to the hive mind, is that somebody, somewhere felt something about Carol’s work. “How would you say my work compares to Shakespeare?” Carol asks. “Equally,” Larry replies. “Equally wonderful.”

Like many things about the world of Pluribus, it’s unclear whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, it’s a utopian fantasy about a world governed by acceptance........

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