Time & Perspective Quote by Frederik Pohl

Pohl slips a quiet grenade under the idea of an authoritative past. The setup is almost domestic: a writer “thinking of writing a little foreword,” modest in scale, casual in tone. That smallness is the point. He frames a radical claim as a polite preface, the way science fiction often smuggles philosophical contraband through familiar storytelling rituals.

The line pivots on “after all,” a phrase that pretends we’re merely acknowledging the obvious. But what follows is destabilizing: history isn’t a ledger of facts; it’s an evolving collage of memory, and memory is plastic. “People’s recollections” foregrounds the human chain of custody behind any official narrative. The past doesn’t just get recorded; it gets re-told, rehearsed, and retrofitted to suit new identities, new politics, new shame, new pride.

Pohl’s intent feels twofold. As a craft note, he’s warning the reader: don’t expect a single, stable account; treat what you’re about to read as contested testimony. As cultural critique, he’s pointing at the machinery of legitimacy: states, institutions, and even families rely on the myth that memory is a reliable witness. If recollection changes, then “history” changes with it, which means power gets to negotiate the past in real time.

Coming from a 20th-century science fiction writer who lived through war, propaganda, and the Cold War’s competing realities, the subtext is unmistakable. The future isn’t the only thing up for grabs. The past is, too.