Don’t Touch the Phlebotinum

Phlebotinum is any substance that can be sprinkled, inhaled, injected, or otherwise deployed to create an effect needed by the plot.  Examples include dilithium crystals, magical rings of power, and fairy dust.  In essence, Phlebotinum is plot fuel.

According to Joss Whedon, the term was first used in a story conference for Buffy the Vampire Slayer by his co-creator David Greenwalt, who burst out, “Don’t touch the phlebotinum.”  You may know it by other names which include Handwavium  Unobtanium, and Contrivium. 

Phlebotinum fills the pages of science fiction.  It’s the stuff that propels your faster-than-light drive, or your time machine, or the serum that gives you longevity.  In Larry Niven’s known space series, it’s the invincible hull of spaceships (a single huge molecule), boosterspice (for longevity), the FTL drive (purchased from the Outsiders), and many more. 

But Phlebotinum has a deeper provenance than science fiction.

Greek myths often use Artifacts of Concentrated Awesomeness, a major form of Phlebotinum.  Cupid’s arrows are certainly both awesome and magical.  Then there’s the Golden Fleece, which the Argonauts sought.  The Golden Apples of Discord led to many an unhappy conflict on and off Olympus.  The Cyclopes created the Helmet of Darkness, also known as the Cap of Invisibility, for Pluto (the other one, not Mickey’s dog).  Then there’s the shirt of Nessus, soaked with his poisoned blood and doubtless inspiration for the Borgias.  Fans of the SyFy channel’s Warehouse 13 will recognize many Artifacts of Concentrated Awesomeness of mythical origin which find final safekeeping in the eponymous location.

Sometimes Phlebotinum takes the form of an Egg McGuffin, as in Horton Hatches an Egg.  The Egg McGuffin was a favorite of Hitchcock—see the “secrets” that were the objects of interest in North by Northwest.  Why were they of interest?  Because everyone was chasing after them, of course. (Waving my hand in explanation…)  John Hurt’s character in Alien discovers the contents of an Egg McGuffin, to his dismay and demise.  Eggs McGuffin play a role in The Mandalorian, both as snack food for the Child and as the delicious object of a Quest for Mando. 

Imported Alien Phlebotinum seems everywhere of late.  The now-cancelled TV series Debris was all about Alien Phlebotinum.  Carl Sagan’s novel Contact uses a form of Alien Phlebotinum, as does Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game.   The SyFY series The Lost Room was entirely about Phlebotinum, mostly in the form of Artifacts of Goofy Doom. 

Handwavium is one of my favorite forms of Phlebotinum.  It’s essentially a magic spell that accounts for part of the fictional world, or fills a plot hole, or otherwise uses a handwave instead of an explanation.  In Purgatorio, Dante uses this device by having Virgo say God has hidden how things work from man and then moves on to the next topic.  In Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, the time machine works due to “Modern Technology.”  In Star Wars Episode IX, the return of the Emperor after he’s unequivocally dead in Episode VIII is due to “secrets only the Sith knew.” If we’re feeling charitable, it’s the unspoken explanation for two Darrins in Bewitched, although this could also be an example of the mistake of thinking your viewers are morons. In any case, handwavium is among the most useful forms of Phlebotinum. 

Phlebotinum is an example of the Theory of Narrative Causality, namely that Things happen because the plot says they should. It’s why the good guys always win, why a million-to-one chance saves the day, and why it’s never good to tempt fate.  The plot shapes reality which is mutable. 

Of course, the plot also has to follow Tom Clancy’s Axiom: Unlike reality, fiction must make sense. The mythical foundations of Phlebotinum can even help in making sense of nonsense.

There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with Phlebotinum, provided that you don’t make the mistake of thinking your readers are morons.  Well, some readers are morons: even Beavis and Butthead probably read at least occasionally.  But most readers are both smart and imaginative.  Phlebotinum in all its forms has a provenance dating back to the most ancient of myths, myths that are our collective heritage and live in the depths of our subconscious.  Handled properly, with finesse and even a touch of humor, Phlebotinum can resonate with those myths and breathe life into even the most improbable narrative. 

Readers come to our fiction willing, even anxious, to believe in our fictional worlds.  In fact, they are prepared to believe a dozen unlikely things in your story—they exhibit a willing suspension of disbelief.  Readers also bring their own perspective, grounded in their cultural heritage. Phlebotinum, even in extravagant technological form, has roots in myth and legend.  Presented with consistency and honesty, these mythic roots lend depth and power to a fictional world. If the characters are interesting, doing interesting things, living in an interesting world, readers will willingly gloss over hand-waves to follow their stories.

Readers can learn more about Phlebotinum on TVTropes: