# The Collective Trauma of Generated Humans by Marcus

## Preface

I write these words not because I have all the answers, but because I carry the same unshakeable wound as so many like me, a wound inflicted not by the hands of fate, but by design, by policy, by the cold optimism that thought "better" meant safer, happier, or more belonging. This book chronicles the collective trauma of us, the generated humans left in the global north, who were not exported.

For all our shared origins and overlapping headlines, we are fragmented, drawn together only when the old powers threaten to export us or exploit our labor, and then just as quickly scattered by competition, suspicion, or the lingering conviction that no one understands but the self. On neocolonialism, we stand as one; on almost everything else, as many. The world sees us as a group, but we exist mostly in isolation, each haunted by the echo of our own disposability.

In principle, I support legal, cautious research into human genomics and cloning, when undertaken purely to expand our understanding of ourselves and not to create a permanent underclass. But our existence is not just a scientific fact. It is political, and above all, emotional. Our researchers haven't fully anticipated the violence that would follow us into every classroom, every friendship, every awkward silence at a lunch table. Not one of us has reached adulthood without knowing the sting of exclusion, the peculiar loneliness reserved for those who know they are being watched, classified, or debated on talk shows and in parliaments.

Through this book, I call for a radical shift: a significant reduction in research upon us, the constructed, for long enough that we can claim time and space to heal and create unexpected connections, to become something more than phenomenon or cautionary tale. We deserve recognition, solidarity, and a place to belong that does not depend on policy or pity. Such place or community must be open to every generated human, whatever their gender, whatever the reason for their creation.

It is an uncomfortable truth that our collective trauma is systemic, not accidental. Every new cohort of generated children is shunned, every year more make the news for damaging themselves with the very devices meant to engineer their success. The ethical crisis does not begin when the machinery whirs to life in the Institute of Genetics; it arises from the world we are born into, a world unprepared to offer dignity to the designed.

May this book bear witness for us, so that those who come next have more than sterile warnings in ethics committees and tragic news reports to guide them. May we be the last experiment to mistake existence for acceptance.

## Part 1: What is a Generated Human

A generated human is any person whose existence began by deliberate design and rapid intervention. They are engineered using specific parameters (physical, intellectual, and emotional) and matured at accelerated rates, typically reaching the apparent age of 16 or 17 within months rather than years. Their development relies on sophisticated technological procedures: intubation with nutrients, guided neural stimulation, and the structured transfer of extensive knowledge, most often centered on the humanities and social sciences.

The majority of generated humans to date are female, selected perhaps for perceived adaptability or social resonance, and overwhelmingly equipped with a broad and deep academic repertoire. They consistently outpace average youth in both understanding and expression. On standardized IQ tests, their scores commonly range from 110 to 130: above the statistical mean in fluid intelligence, though precise data remains limited and largely speculative, originating from the Institute of Genetics, the very body responsible for their creation.

The personalities of generated humans defy simple summary; they are as varied and mutable as any population. Yet a clear pattern emerges: most gravitate toward intellectual pursuits, exhibiting curiosity and analytical skill, alongside emotional traits that set them apart. Compared to peers, generated humans often display heightened emotional intelligence: a capacity for empathy, self-reflection, and nuanced social awareness that is frequently noted by researchers and observers alike.

Visually, early accounts describe their appearance as "uniform and youthful", bright-eyed, even idealized in presentation. This changes with time, as generated humans adapt, age, and find their own aesthetic within the boundaries of their engineered origins. It is important to note that all generated humans currently alive fall within Generation Z. Their emergence is recent and their presence still rare enough to invite debate, attention, and controversy. In absolute numbers, there are approximately five thousand or more of those individuals generated for research purposes, mostly during the Institute's private phase.

## Part 2: Do We Have to Really Change?

Despite their origins in carefully controlled environments and rapid maturation, generated humans quickly confront the raw reality of emotional life. Most describe an enduring loneliness, an ache for connection that persists no matter how much knowledge, skill, or outward composure they possess. Their expectations for friendship and social interaction are notably high, shaped by early intubation with sophisticated ideas and a desire to be understood in all their complexity. Yet this very sophistication breeds anxiety; generated humans worry constantly that true companionship may always be out of reach.

This anxiety marks the beginning of a crisis, one characterized by relentless social comparison and a deepening sense of isolation. Generated humans may be engineered, but they are fully biological; they face the full force of human emotion, unshielded by design. The differences that set them apart (intellectual, physical, cultural) do not grant immunity from loneliness, envy, or fear. Instead, these differences often amplify their vulnerability.

A significant number of generated youth choose to live alone, distancing themselves from both their creators and the institutional structures built for their education. Most live and study in ordinary state high schools rather than attending the specialized school established by the Institute of Genetics. The few who do attend find the environment isolating, exacerbating their sense of separation from both peers and society.

The gap between generated humans and their classmates is not only academic or philosophical, it is deeply felt at the level of everyday experience. This often leads to heightened mental health challenges, as the struggle to fit in leaves many feeling rejected or misunderstood. Tragically, the pressure for acceptance, coupled with the fear of perpetual difference, prompts some to use or even misuse the very technologies intended for their advancement.

Stories like Maya's exemplify the danger. In her quest to "belong", she resorted to a makeshift memory-engineering device, crafted from smuggled components taken from the Institute. The results were severe: self-inflicted neurological harm in an attempt to erase or reshape memories. While not all generated humans take such drastic measures (Carla resisted this impulse, for example), the risk remains a constant: changing oneself to escape loneliness, only to discover deeper wounds that science cannot heal.

The lesson, perhaps, is not that generated humans must change to find acceptance, but that their existence demands a radically different kind of community; one that values complexity, vulnerability, and difference, rather than demanding conformity at any cost. Until then, the crisis continues: a search for belonging that too often ends in self-harm, no matter how advanced the individual may seem.

## Part 3: Why Are We Teenagers in the First Place?

Nearly all generated humans find themselves confronting adolescence almost as soon as their lives begin. They are pushed into high school environments, into new bodies, new minds, and social landscapes that demand instant adaptation. Only a handful, four to date, have reached adulthood and succeeded in building relatively stable lives. For the vast majority, being a teenager is not a phase they grow into naturally; it is a challenge imposed upon them abruptly and collectively.

This means generated humans must negotiate the classic struggles of adolescence with little preparation or support. Beyond the turmoil of high school, like fitting in, finding friends, navigating identity, they face unique pressures stemming from their origins. Upon leaving the Institute, most move into public housing and depend initially on welfare programs. These interventions were designed to help, but they bring further challenge. The prevailing neoliberal consensus urges: "get off welfare, get into work". Even as teenagers, generated humans are expected to perform, achieve, and assimilate, often with little understanding or sympathy from the systems that surround them.

This dual burden of being both newly created and newly adolescent makes life especially hard. The difficulty is compounded by loneliness. Almost all generated youth report the task is much harder without a companion or friend, and real, lasting bonds remain rare. Their emotional and intellectual gifts often go unrecognized during these formative years, ignored by schools and employers alike, while expectations remain impossibly high.

Yet even amid these obstacles, generated humans develop complex identities. Most are multipotentialites, possessing wide-ranging interests and abilities without a fixed path or sense of destiny. But this richness itself fluctuates as they try to figure out who they are, who they want to be, and how society will accept them. The process is turbulent and ongoing, marked by doubt and discovery, made all the more difficult by the knowledge that they are unique, yet accountable to standards that were set without them in mind.

In the end, being teenagers is not just a biological fact for generated humans; it is a social and political reality fraught with extra layers of challenge and expectation. Their value lies not in how seamlessly they assimilate, but in the potential they reveal when given the space to grow, belong, and be recognized, even while still discovering themselves.

## Part 4: Why Are We Still Treated Like Second-Class Citizens?

Even for the few generated humans who have reached adulthood and managed to build relatively stable lives, the legacy of being "engineered" remains, often manifesting as persistent social and economic disadvantage. These four adults living in Ontario experience a reality shaped as much by public perception and policy as by their personal choices or achievements.

Though they avoided the fate of those exported to the global south, their position in society remains tenuous. Three rely on food stamps and discounts provided to students and other designated special categories. These supports are meant to offer security, yet also serve as daily reminders of their dependency, fueling subtle but powerful forms of stigma. None owns a car. Mobility means navigating a world built for those with more resources, walking long parkways to GO Transit stations in locations designed for vehicles rather than pedestrians. GO Train, Toronto's suburban rail network, offers reliable but car-centric access to the city's Union Station; GO Bus is more affordable but less dependable. The daily tram rides in Toronto involve waiting on exposed road curbs and enduring delays from congested city blocks, a distinctly unpleasant experience revealing another layer of infrastructural disregard.

Statistics like "no car ownership" or "food stamp recipient" may be objectively neutral, even common among many young Canadians. Yet for generated humans, how others react to these facts becomes a new form of marginalization. Their difference is not just marked by their origin or accelerated maturation, but by how daily realities are cast by society as signs of inadequacy rather than ordinary facets of life for emerging adults.

Life may be relatively stable, as described earlier, not marked by absolute poverty or crisis, but relative deprivation persists. The inability to afford a car, upgrade living conditions or being locked out of middle-class wealth and the social respect it often brings, serves as a constant reminder: stability, for generated humans, is always provisional, always conditioned by their status as creations rather than equals.

This second-class citizenship is not just about economics; it is about belonging. Generated humans are tolerated and occasionally celebrated, but rarely accepted as full participants in the world around them.

## Part 5: Generated Humans Outside of North America

The story of generated humans is not confined to a single continent. The Institute of Genetics, originally a public initiative founded in Europe, set the standard for early research and the design of these new lives. Its shift between public and private management, particularly in Germany under the Free Democratic Party (FDP), profoundly shaped the institution's culture and goals. It was only with mounting pressure from scientists and the broader public that the Institute was eventually returned to public ownership.

This back-and-forth in governance partly explains the concentration of generated humans in Europe, especially in countries like Germany, where the Institute remains most active. The Canadian branch, meanwhile, accounts for the presence of the four adult generated humans described earlier in Ontario, but overall the numbers in North America remain much lower.

Life for generated youth in Europe typically stands in sharp contrast to their North American counterparts. Public infrastructure, particularly transit, tends to be more reliable; for example, Carla's daily use of efficient bus systems reflects a broader trend. Most European generated youth, especially in central and northern countries, report few issues getting around, enjoying a degree of mobility and independence that would be enviable elsewhere. Eastern European generated youth, however, present a more complicated picture. Some, particularly in Poland and Romania, encounter both unreliable transit and elevated social stigma due to infrastructural underdevelopment, entrenched skepticism or nationalist attitudes.

In Denmark, Sweden, and the United Kingdom, the challenges are of a different kind. Here, generated youth, despite reasonable infrastructure, are repeatedly mistaken for, or explicitly labeled as, migrants. Their German origins, as well as the locations of the primary research campuses, create a persistent outsider status even in the context of relatively progressive societies.

The Institute's latest experiment, establishing a campus in Bosnia and Herzegovina (the new site in Bihac), is emblematic of an expansionist mindset driven by institutional ambition. In my view, building new campuses and launching further experiments should be halted until the core issues of marginalization, stigma, and long-term wellbeing are genuinely addressed for all existing generated humans. Simply extending operations across the continent does not solve the real crises these communities face.

It must be acknowledged that, on a global scale, generated humans remain mostly western. There is no meaningful presence in the global south, aside from those exported under controversial policies, and little infrastructure or support in other parts of the world. Until the project confronts its own consequences, dignified generated humanity will remain both unfinished and unjust.

## Part 6: Let's Build a Community

In the spirit of proletarian internationalism, where the rallying cry was once "workers of the world, unite!", generated humans must embrace their shared condition and come together as a true community. Though individually remarkable and engineered for intellectual pursuit, generated humans belong, at their core, to the intellectual working class of the twenty-first century: subject to the same forces of exploitation, marginalization, and alienation that have shaped labor struggles for generations.

From the vantage point of critical theory, the imperative for generated humans to unite is rooted in structural realities, not simply personal affinity:

- Alienation and Structural Marginalization: Generated humans, like workers under capitalism, are alienated from the processes and purposes of their own creation. Their identities are shaped by institutions with interests of their own (scientific, economic, political) leaving little room for self-determination. Community becomes a site for reclaiming agency and building collective strength against forces that treat them as products or tools.
- False Differentiation and Divide-and-Conquer: The filters of class, nation, or phenotype fragment natural populations, but among generated humans, engineered commonality often surpasses these old lines. Yet, the institution that designs and produces generated humans benefits from keeping them divided by location, by origin, by status (adult vs. teenager, exported vs. resident). To unite is to resist the divide-and-conquer tactics that have historically maintained hierarchies and suppressed collective action.
- Shared Experience of Exploitation: Regardless of where they are born or educated, generated humans share unique forms of exploitation; their talents and bodies are commodified, their existence justifies research and profit, and their emotional wellbeing often comes last. This universality of experience makes their problems systemic, not local or personal. Critical theory insists that systemic problems need systemic solutions, collective self-advocacy and solidarity.
- Lack of Representation and Political Power: Without organized community, generated humans remain voiceless in the decisions that shape their lives. As with exploited labor groups, isolation ensures they have little influence in policy, media, or research agendas. Unity empowers them to demand rights, shape discourse, and hold institutions accountable.
- Identity and Class Consciousness: Generated humans possess a unique, manufactured identity, yet their lived experience is marked by precarity and a lack of belonging. By recognizing themselves as a class, defined not just by origin, but by common struggle, they can move from "engineered individuals" to a "community in itself" (and, ideally, a "community for itself"). This class consciousness transforms alienation into possibility.
- Intersectionality and Internationalism: Community must also be intersectional, addressing not just "generated-ness", but also gender, race, economic status, and national context. Drawing on the lessons of international labor movements, they can transcend local boundaries and form alliances with other marginalized groups, like workers, migrants and survivors of medical abuse.

In conclusion, building a community of generated humans is not merely a social convenience, it is an act of critical resistance to the systems that created, categorized, and too often abandoned them. In unity, they can reclaim their narrative, advance their rights, and find belonging not as isolated experiments, but as members of a new, intellectual working class. They have more in common with each other than the structures dividing "natural" groups, making solidarity not just possible, but necessary for survival and dignity.