It Shall Not Be Forgiven You

All that comes into being will someday pass away.
—Aristotle

All that is subject to change, is subject to impermanence, and that which is subject to impermanence is subject to suffering.
—Shakyamuni Buddha

You may kill us if you like, grandchildren, but understand that without us, and the need to replace old things, there will be no need to create new things, and no progress.
—The Things-Wearing-Out People, Where the Two Went to Their Father

The entropy of an isolated system which is not in equilibrium will tend to increase over time.
—The Second Law of Thermodynamics

So. Post-Scarcity Economies. Cradle to cradle rather than cradle to grave. People motivated not by economic necessity but by self-improvement.

Horse flop.

I was reminded of this subgenre of SF, Transhuman SF, where mankind has attained some form of economy where scarcity, in the economic sense ("not enough pies to go around") has been overcome, usually by some combination of socialism and holy magic science (which is also wholly magic science). But—because such a world would be utterly dull, and not worth telling stories about, the characters still, inexplicably, want to work and do things. Usually they've made whatever they do their hobby, and are quite enthusiastic about it.

That is, it's an entire society of meddlesome rich people—indeed, worse, it's an entire society of independently-wealthy hobbyists. And yet, contrary to what someone who's read...y'know...a paragraph of history (or seen how hobbyist subcultures act) might expect, they're not mind-bogglingly decadent dystopias.

One recalls Chesterton's quote about utopias: "They first assume that no man will want more than his share, and then are very ingenious in explaining whether his share will be delivered by motor-car or balloon." Johnson's quote about the only good things being written for gain comes to mind, as well.

There are limits to geek wish-fulfillment fantasies, and this subgenre has passed that limit.

You cannot have a story about utterly worthless people, and you ask too much of your reader if you try to make the story be about the hobbies of such people. So sometimes, they do something worse, crossing the line between "crappy writing" and "morally reprehensible"—in an effort to make the reader care, the protagonist's hobby will be something more important. For instance, some people's "hobby" is making contact with other cultures, and offering them membership in the (utterly worthless) utopia...and destroying recalcitrant civilizations from the inside. Yes, that's right, our heroes are genocidal cultural imperialists...as a hobby. And people actually consider Starship Troopers unsettling? It's Little Women compared to this.

Of course, while the artistic, moral, and sociological objections to this kind of nonsense are more important, there's also the scientific one. You simply cannot have a Post-Scarcity economy; the moment you eliminate the scarcity of one resource, you will discover scarcity of others, usually whichever ones you used to get more of the old ones. We've eliminated hunger in the developed world, but we're a little hard-up for the chemicals we use to grow food, and the fuel we use to ship it. Anyone who thinks there's an easy way out of scarcity just announced "I'm a rich idiot who doesn't understand what things cost, because everything I ever had was handed to me on a silver platter."

"Post Scarcity stories" are the answer to the question, "What if the Lensman series had been written by Bertie Wooster?" Except Bertie's a nice rich idiot.

Late addition #1: I forgot to add that the other problem with a post-Scarcity economy would be that, as a form of Super Socialism, it would have a similar weakness to normal socialism, only worse. Namely, the lack of incentives for achievement or progress (the Things-Wearing-Out People pointed that out to the Hero Twins, in the quote above). Now, there would still be ego—always a great motivator, and indeed the thing that kept the medieval Guilds' standards up when they all earned the same. But people in Post-Scarcity stories never have anything to prove; they're like a stereotype of modern schoolkids, dripping with unassailable self-esteem. And unlike real-world socialist systems, they're too well-off—getting special extra goodies, a motivator most socialist systems retain to some degree, is meaningless, since Post-Scarcity people can basically get whatever they want, without having to earn it. Does anyone think there would really be any incentive to any kind of excellence, if mediocrity feels just about as good?

Late addition #2: Should have mentioned that another thing these stories tend to involve, a limitless manufacturing capacity, is not only ruled out by that economic principle I mentioned (that scarcity is, ironically, the only thing not subject to scarcity), it's also physically impossible. You cannot recycle resources infinitely (a common aim of the Transhuman movement in general); the Second Law is an iron one (being a special case of the principle of impermanence that's troubled philosophers for millennia). Certainly we could stand to be a hell of a lot more efficient than we are (which is what "regenerative" manufacturing should mean), but the nonsensical "Cradle to Cradle" appellation is evidence that its proponents actually seek—and think they can find—infinite creative power. But then again Transhumans also want to do away with "involuntary" death—another of the Four Last Ills who made a good case for himself to the Hero Twins.