Consider Phlebas

Consider Phlebas is the first book in the Culture series, a sci-fi space opera in which the titular “Culture”, a post-scarcity, hedonistic, transhumanist civilization, plays a central role. The Culture is a highly decentralized society that produces more resources than it needs. Its citizens enjoy immense freedom and pleasure, having transcended many human biological limitations through advanced genetic engineering.

However, this review focuses only on Consider Phlebas, not the entire series.

The story follows a character named Horza, a member of a species called the Changers; shapeshifters capable of altering their appearance to resemble anyone. Horza works for the Idirans, a religious, warlike species in conflict with the Culture. He’s sent on a mission to a forbidden planet, one off-limits to both the Culture and the Idirans, to recover a stranded Culture AI (a “Mind”) that crash-landed there after a space battle. Only Changers are allowed on the planet, making Horza a suitable candidate for the mission.

I absolutely hated the book for several reasons.

1. Horza is a Passive

For at least the first half of the novel, Horza has almost no agency. Things simply happen to him. A quick overview:

• The story opens with Horza imprisoned and nearly dying, only to be saved by the Idirans.
• He’s brought aboard an Idiran ship, which is promptly attacked by the Culture — he escapes in the chaos.
• He is then rescued by a group of mercenaries and taken onto their ship.
• Forced to fight for his life against another mercenary (again, he reacts rather than acts).
• He passively follows the mercenaries on two missions; neither of which he initiates.
• The second mission goes wrong, their ship crashes, and he ends up on an island inhabited by cannibals; again imprisoned.
• He finally escapes: the first real initiative he shows, and we’re already a third into the book.

Even after he starts becoming more active, by then Horza is so unlikable and unrelatable that it’s hard to care about him anymore.

2. His Motivations Are Weak and Unconvincing

Horza gives several reasons for working against the Culture:

1. He was bored. This is revealed in a flashback involving his ex. He claims to have become a spy simply because he was tired of his life. While boredom can be a motivation, especially in lighter adventure stories, it doesn’t fit the gritty tone of the novel. Moreover, this motivation isn’t developed into a meaningful character arc. It’s just a throwaway line.
2. He dislikes machines. He claims to oppose the Culture’s reliance on AI and machines. I have nothing against a good space racist (see Warhammer 40K for how to do it well), but Horza isn’t convincingly written as one. When he encounters Culture citizens or drones, he doesn’t treat them with any real hostility. He treats the drone well, respects its wishes, and refrains from killing a Culture agent even when he has the chance. His supposed anti-machine sentiment is barely present in his actions.
3. He hates the Culture’s ideology. This is perhaps his strongest stated motivation, yet even this falls flat. When asked if he’s had any negative experiences with the Culture, he says no. His reasoning boils down to: “The Idirans are on the side of life, and the Culture is on the side of machines.” There’s no deeper philosophical argument or explanation behind this.

A particularly glaring contradiction occurs when a woman tells Horza she’s pregnant and leaves the decision about keeping the child up to him. This is a perfect moment for him to express his distaste for Culture values (messing with nature and life), but he reacts calmly and respectfully. His hatred of the Culture seems to disappear whenever it’s inconvenient to the narrative.

3. Horza Is Never Seriously Challenged

It’s frustrating that Horza’s beliefs are almost never seriously questioned by other characters. And when someone does challenge him, it’s brushed aside with a single sentence, never to be brought up again. A character like Horza, who is meant to stand in contrast to the Culture, should be confronted, challenged, and forced to reflect on his values. That never happens.

4. The Story: Missed Potential and Shallow Execution

The story feels like it jumps from one scene to the next with no real consequences or reflection. Scenes come and go rapidly, without deeper character development or thematic payoff. A lot of potential is wasted.

Take, for example, the cannibal island, also called “Eaters’ Island.” This could have been a brilliant moment to challenge Horza’s loyalty to the Idirans. The cannibals, like the Idirans, are violent religious fanatics. After surviving the ordeal, Horza could have reflected on the dangers of fanaticism and drawn parallels between the Eatery’s madness and his employers’. But this never happens. The scene ends, and we move on, as if nothing happened.

I’m of the opinion that every scene and every fight should matter. When something significant happens, a character should change, either positively or negatively. But that doesn’t happen here. Events pass without impact. There’s no real arc or evolution.

5. Hollow Emotional Beats and Fake Relationships

I never felt like there were genuine emotional connections between the characters. When reactions occurred, they felt hollow and unearned. For instance, why are the mercenaries so devastated when their temple raid fails and several crewmembers die? We’re told that people regularly die or rotate out of the crew, it’s part of their job. Why does this incident matter more than the rest?

No one seemed particularly upset when Horza brutally murdered one of their crew members shortly after arriving on their ship. Suddenly, later in the story, they’re all crying and emotionally broken? It’s not that mercenaries can’t feel sadness, of course they can, but the book never establishes a meaningful bond between the characters, so their grief comes off as performative. It feels like theater, not emotion.

Another scene that broke immersion was when the crew goes to Schar’s World. Horza, who had killed their captain and assumed his form (why was this even necessary? He could’ve gone alone), suddenly reveals that he’s a spy for the Idirans in an intergalactic war, and asks them to help him. What follows is baffling.

A group of third-rate mercenaries with poor equipment, whose only notable achievement is robbing unarmed civilians, just… agrees? To take part in a mission tied to an interstellar war? With the man who murdered their captain and deceived them? Even worse, they’re transporting a prisoner from the Culture.

And the justification? One crew member wants to see the legendary train atop Schar’s World. That’s it. It could have been a valid reason, if the character had been properly developed or shown a deeper connection to that goal earlier. But it comes out of nowhere, and thus feels completely hollow.

6. Lazy Writing and Wasted Themes

Some have defended the book by saying Horza is meant to be unlikable — that the author wants us to come away with a positive view of the Culture by contrast. But that’s a lazy approach. Instead of writing Horza with weak or nonsensical arguments, the author could have made him a genuinely compelling critic of the Culture. Imagine if his views had real weight, if his concerns were understandable, even if ultimately flawed.

There are fascinating positions that could have been explored:

• That the Culture’s hedonism is misguided, and that a meaningful life is based on virtue rather than pleasure.
• That absolute freedom can be paralyzing, when anything is possible and nothing is required, one might lose all sense of direction.

Another defense I’ve heard is that Horza’s bad reasoning is due to indoctrination by the Idirans, that he’s simply a weapon shaped by their ideology. This would be a valid interpretation if it were actually shown in the book. Aside from a dream sequence near the end, there’s little to no indication that Horza is brainwashed or even struggling with indoctrination. If this was the author’s intent, they didn’t do enough with it.

7. Conclusion

In the end, Consider Phlebas is intellectually uninteresting. The characters are static, there’s no meaningful development, and the book avoids serious exploration of the philosophical conflict between the Culture and the Idirans. It’s a plot-driven book, and that’s fine if that’s what you enjoy, but I expected more from a series hailed as one of the greatest in science fiction.

The only moment I genuinely enjoyed was the ending, when both Horza and Yalson die. Their deaths felt earned, not because of tragedy, but because both of them had shown little concern for the rest of the crew. This is highlighted by their callous decision to let the old man stay behind in a radioactive zone, just because he was angry at them for leading the crew to ruin.

And finally, what was the epilogue with the Culture agent euthanizing herself supposed to be? Was it meant to show the emotional burden of war? If so, it was never properly built up or characterized.