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Finding Yourself in a World That Wants You to Fit In: What Sci-Fi Reveals About Identity and Connection

Award-winning author Christian Hurst on why loneliness is the price of authenticity—and why true connection only happens after you pay it.



You can lose loved ones when you become your true self. Friends might not understand the person you're becoming. Even family can struggle to recognize you. The internet and algorithms have already decided who you are based on your behavior, your clicks, your patterns. So why would anyone choose authenticity over acceptance?


According to Christian Hurst—bestselling author, creative director, and former Mormon turned humanist—it's the only path to real connection. In this KAJ Masterclass LIVE session, Hurst unpacked why storytelling serves as the bridge between isolation and belonging, how sci-fi provides a sandbox for interrogating your identity without judgment, and why the loneliness you feel when being true to yourself is temporary—but the connections that follow are real.


Key Insights


Identity isn't what you collect—it's what remains when everything else is stripped away. Most people build identity from external pieces: job titles, family roles, relationships, possessions. But Hurst argues those are decorations on a foundation that must come from within. When life challenges those external markers—losing a job, relationship changes, questioning beliefs—people break because they built on sand. Your core identity is what survives when the rug gets pulled out from under you.


"When you build your foundation on the expectations of others, that's when you start to cling to things that are dangerous—like absolutism. People say 'I know this will happen' with such certainty, and when it doesn't, it wrecks their world." — Christian Hurst

Growing up Mormon in Harrisburg, Hurst watched people declare absolute certainty about their beliefs every day. When doubt crept in or expectations weren't met, their worlds shattered because certainty—not self-knowledge—was their foundation. He sees the same pattern in modern culture: people clinging to predictions about elections, markets, or outcomes because certainty feels safer than acknowledging they can only truly know what's inside themselves.


Storytelling lets you interrogate yourself without the uncomfortable confrontation. You don't need to sit down and have literal conversations with yourself about who you are. Fiction does that work subconsciously. When Hurst read sci-fi as a kid—Star Trek episodes, classic space operas—the stories asked questions that naturally broke down barriers his parents, church, and society had constructed around acceptable beliefs and behaviors.


This doesn't mean rejecting everything handed to you by family or institutions. It means questioning and picking apart those inherited values to see what actually resonates with your core. Sci-fi creates a safe sandbox where your imagination can explore alternate realities, testing different versions of yourself without real-world consequences. The best stories force you to analyze aspects of yourself you might never consciously examine.


The trap of modern tools: AI and algorithms promise connection but deliver isolation. Technology democratizes everything. AI says you can be an artist without the journey, create beauty without expression. Social media promises connection while delivering endless scrolling. Hurst warns against constructing bubbles of artificial reality where you pretend to control everything. Having extreme wealth or power doesn't buy happiness if you don't know who you are—we watch billionaires embarrass themselves in real time because no amount of money substitutes for authentic self-knowledge.


The real danger? Mistaking entertainment for connection. Scrolling Instagram isn't connecting with people. It's consuming content. True connection requires showing up in physical spaces with emotional presence—whether that's dropping your kid at school or managing people at work. Hurst asks a pointed question: Do you use your sphere of influence to make someone's day heavy or light? That's where real connection happens, not in your feed.


Loneliness is the price of authenticity—but connection is the reward. This forms the thesis of Hurst's debut novel, Lily Starling: The Voyage of the Salamander. The main character loses her memory, stripping away all external identity markers. As she rebuilds understanding of who she is, she experiences profound isolation. Young people especially feel this—tunnel vision that makes darkness feel permanent, sometimes leading to tragedy.


"Yes, it feels very lonely when you are true to yourself. You can lose loved ones, feel isolated. But if you are true to yourself, connection will happen. It's not magic—it's better because it's real." — Christian Hurst

The book starts with Lily explaining this philosophy in first person before the story shifts to third person. Both reader and character enter the narrative at the same point of confusion—neither knowing what's happening. This structure mirrors the actual experience of finding yourself: disorientation, isolation, gradual clarity, and eventually authentic connection with others who see the real you.


Why sci-fi for exploring identity? Hurst deliberately set his story starting in 2010—pre-smartphone era—because he wanted to show a character from our recent past thrust into a future where connection has evolved. Lily brings empathy from our time that future humans have drifted away from. Different species, spaceships, wars, politics—all the trappings of classic space opera—but with modern themes: diverse characters, queer representation, complex morality.


Lily isn't a perfect hero. She helps a kid out of trouble, then immediately steals food because she's hungry. Hurst wanted to show complicated morality—someone who does heroic things but also takes care of herself without moralizing about it. She's emotionally intelligent but deeply flawed, and her mistakes have real consequences throughout the story.


The Sphere of Influence Problem

Modern connectivity creates a paradox. We carry "boxes of doom" in our pockets—constant access to every world problem. Well-meaning people drive themselves into depression trying to change everything because they feel responsible for all suffering they see. This heightened sensitivity to information overwhelms without boundaries.


The solution: Recognize your actual sphere of influence. Who do you encounter dropping kids at school? How do you show up managing people at work? What attitude do you bring to daily interactions? You can't fix global crises from your phone, but you have genuine power to impact the people you physically encounter. Focus there. Use technology for real connection—like this conversation between Pennsylvania and India—not doom scrolling or obsessing over things you cannot change.


Why This Matters Beyond the Story


For young people navigating identity in an algorithmic age, Hurst's message offers a roadmap: expect loneliness when you stop performing for others, but trust that authentic connections will follow. For anyone feeling trapped by expectations—workplace culture, social pressure, family traditions—his work demonstrates how fiction provides safe space to question inherited beliefs without rejecting them entirely.


For leaders and managers, the "sphere of influence" concept reframes responsibility: you can't solve everything, but you profoundly impact how people experience their days. Choose to make them lighter.


What Else We Covered


The full masterclass explored Hurst's 20-year journey developing Lily Starling from concept to bestseller, his transition from Mormonism to humanism, and why he includes diverse and queer characters in classical space opera settings. He also discussed the danger of absolutism—Victor Hugo and Ursula K. Le Guin's shared warning about certainty as humanity's biggest threat—and how that shows up in his fiction.


Hurst explained why the second book shifts into more cinematic sci-fi territory, what Earth looks like in his future timeline (spoiler: not what you'd expect), and how bringing a pre-smartphone perspective into the future creates unique narrative opportunities.


Watch the complete KAJ Masterclass LIVE episode on YouTube



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