Arc, a new magazine from the makers of New Scientist, explores the future through cutting-edge science fiction and forward-looking essays by some of the world’s most celebrated authors, alongside columns by thinkers and practitioners from the worlds of books, design, gaming, film and more. Edited by acclaimed author Simon Ings, Arc explores the endless vistas opened up by today’s science and technology and the possibilities these raise for the future.

United Kingdom
New Scientist Ltd
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ned beauman

Ned Beauman was born in London and lives in New York. His second novel, The Teleportation Accident, was longlisted for the Man Booker Prize, and his third, Glow, is published by Sceptre in May. His work has been translated into more than 10 languages. In the future we'll be buying a lot of sriracha to make the fried crickets go down easier. Matthew De Abaitua Matthew De Abaitua is the author of The Red Men, shortlisted for the Arthur C. Clarke Award and republished by Gollancz in 2013. Shynola's short film Dr. Easy, adapted from the first chapter, can be watched at www.created-to-help-you.com In the future we'll be buying the farm. M. John Harrison M. John Harrison reviews fiction for The Guardian and the Times Literary Supplement. His novel Climbers received the Boardman Tasker Award in…

attic civilisation

You won't get far in the present unless history is on your side. But when it comes to the future, the side of history is the wrong place to be. Change is good and disruption is even better. The future is nothing if not different – so as far as the future is concerned, what's not different is nothing. Asking what won't change sounds obtuse, querulous, passively aggressive. This is because the future is nothing but a play of visionary possibilities. The imagination lights up at the idea of the new and the different, not the familiar. Whether they are paying for a movie ticket or a briefing about business trends, people want images of things to come, not things they already know about. The future that emerges is a sheaf of…


Ryan was going, “One hundred thousand pounds, one hundred thousand pounds,” and my stomach was sloshing like a washing machine. I'd never been off the estate before. My mum was crying and I told her I'll be back in two weeks. The car was a cool retro shape but silent, auto-driven, and when you're in among a bunch of them shooting along the toll passing and repassing it's fun. But I didn't see those hills and fields and that you see on TV. The toll was sunk too low in the ground. Never saw London either, not the famous stuff, only streets of high old joined-up houses. Ryan said it's where we're gonna live when they pay us. It's ancient on the outside but inside it's all smart. Self-cleaning, automatic,…

sonic acts 2023, amsterdam – forgotten futures

Anika starts with broad brushstrokes. A swipe of her hand is enough to brush away the initial debris on the face of the billboard, the hastily scrawled felt-tip pen tags and random stickers, cartoon monkey faces and ironically pixelised icons, until the surface is clean, nothing interfering with the now pristine Volkswagen advert that fills the huge twenty-by-ten-inch space. She pauses for a second, not knowing where next to focus her efforts. She's only reached back a matter of days now, the VW branding still relatively fresh. Undisturbed topsoil. Pulling this first layer down completely would take too long, a noob error. Better to let an element of chance in, to make seemingly random exploratory digs. She reaches out to the far right-hand side of the board, her hand physically falling…