“Where Did My Jetpack Go? Other Sci-Fi Tech Questions”

Some individuals enjoy pondering the future with games like “Where is my jetpack?” We relish the sci-fi visions from recent decades and question, “Why haven’t we received all the exciting advancements that were promised?” Certainly, we’ve seen videophones, pocket computers, and robots exploring Mars. Yet, what about jetpacks and flying cars?

It often seems there’s always something missing—an image or concept that once embodied the “future” but now resides in a bygone era. Nevertheless, the pursuit of making jetpacks a reality continues.

When contemplating the absence of jetpacks, I don’t focus solely on lost gadgets. I ponder: “Where is the societal revolution we were promised when we were younger?”

For me, the 20th-century vision of revolutionizing gender equality stands out. The narrative of how future men and women would interchange gender roles captivated audiences. However, that ideology of emancipation now feels as outdated as a Flash Gordon tale.

Recently, I engaged in a discussion with fellow writers during a panel on retrofuturism at the Science Fiction Convention World Concert. This prompted reflection on how past ideas about the future possess significant influence.

Science fiction authors have envisioned female empowerment since as early as 1915 when Charlotte Perkins Gilman published the novel Herland. In this tale, a band of male explorers discovers a country governed by women, thriving in a utopian setting reminiscent of Wonder Woman’s beloved Themyscira.

Iconic films of the late 20th century, particularly Zardoz in 1974, depicted a future of free love where men can even marry each other. Anyone who’s witnessed this eccentric film won’t forget Sean Connery donning a lace wedding dress to tie the knot with a man in a high-tech, bohemian ceremony.

Now, women enjoy voting rights in most countries, and same-sex marriage is a reality in numerous places. Yet, other cultural shifts remain elusive, much like our dreams of jetpacks.

Take, for example, the concept of male pregnancy. Surprising as it may seem, this theme frequently appears in science fiction.

The plot of the 1994 comedy Junior is perhaps the most renowned, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger as the first male to become pregnant and give birth, showcasing how advanced science might render such feats possible.

Moreover, this idea surfaced in classic feminist literature of the 1970s, such as A Woman on the Edge of Time by Marge Piercy, wherein children are born from artificial wombs and can be breastfed by individuals of any gender.

My personal favorite is the truly extraordinary 1985 film Enemy Mine, which explores the unlikely friendship between pregnant alien males and their human counterparts after crash-landing on a desolate planet.

Just like jetpacks are prevalent in certain sci-fi eras, so too is the notion of male pregnancy. While these stories were not completely off the mark, only a few documented instances of male pregnancy exist, alongside a minor number of DIY jetpack enthusiasts. Yet, neither group has reached the popularity that pop culture suggests.

So, what led to the rise of male pregnancy fantasies in the latter half of the 20th century?

Partly due to a sexual revolution, which prompted challenging traditional views on gender and family dynamics. If women can achieve parity in traditionally male sectors, why shouldn’t men find equal footing in domains like parenthood?

The impact of the LGBTQ+ rights movement cannot be overlooked. By the century’s close, the concept of “chosen family” had become widely accepted, with authors envisioning diverse familial arrangements involving multiple fathers, mothers, or even families with robots and octopuses.

Ultimately, if children are nurtured in joyful and stable settings, does it matter that you have a pregnant dad?

In the 1990s, Schwarzenegger opened up the dream of men experiencing childbirth—what a remarkable thought!

Fast forward to 2025, when President Donald Trump issued an executive order asserting only two genders, embedded in birth certificates as immutable identities. Women become pregnant; men do not.

Regardless of what is dictated, you may still be anticipating your jetpack, yet I’m here, still waiting for a pregnant man.