How the 1992 Movie Toys Predicted the Rise of Modern Drone Warfare
The Premise of Toys
When Barry Levinson’s Toys was released in 1992, it was regarded as a quirky, whimsical film with a surreal aesthetic and a unique mix of comedy and drama. Starring Robin Williams as a playful toy manufacturer fighting to protect his family business, the movie delves into unexpected territory: the militarization of toys. What seemed like a fantastical concept at the time has, in retrospect, proven eerily prescient.
Today, drones priced at around $400, armed with grenades or other makeshift weaponry, can destroy multi-million-dollar tanks. This reality echoes the central premise of Toys, where harmless playthings are transformed into instruments of war, challenging traditional notions of defense and power.
In the movie, the Zevo Toy Company falls under the control of a militaristic general who develops weaponized toys for combat purposes. Remote-controlled planes, miniature tanks, and other seemingly innocent devices are repurposed into lethal tools of destruction. The film explores the moral implications of this shift, emphasizing the dangers of blurring the line between play and war.
A Vision of Modern Drone Warfare
Fast forward three decades, and the world has caught up with Levinson’s vision. Commercially available drones, often marketed as recreational devices, have become central to asymmetrical warfare. In conflicts like those in Ukraine and the Middle East, affordable consumer drones have been retrofitted to carry explosives, reconnaissance equipment, or other payloads.
These low-cost devices have proven devastatingly effective. A $400 drone can destroy a $3.5 million tank, creating a stark imbalance in cost and strategy. This mirrors the dynamic in Toys, where inexpensive and seemingly innocuous creations become unexpectedly potent in a military context.
Why the Prediction Matters
The film’s prescience lies in its understanding of how technology democratizes power. In Toys, advanced weaponry is no longer the exclusive domain of governments or wealthy nations; instead, it’s accessible to anyone with the means to purchase or modify a toy. This democratization has become a defining feature of modern drone warfare, where non-state actors and smaller nations can challenge traditional military powers.
Even outside of drones, other consumer electronics like video game controllers are being used by the military. The U.S. military has adopted Xbox controllers for operating various high-tech systems due to their familiarity, affordability, and ease of use. These controllers are used to pilot drones, control robotic vehicles, and manage weapon systems on ships and submarines. Their intuitive design reduces training time for personnel already accustomed to gaming technology, while their widespread availability makes them a cost-effective alternative to custom-built control systems. This integration of gaming hardware into military applications highlights the crossover between consumer technology and advanced defense operations.
Toys also grapples with the ethical dilemmas of this new landscape. By weaponizing playthings, the film asks whether technological progress is always beneficial. In real life, these questions have become more urgent than ever. How do we regulate technology that can be easily weaponized? How do we balance innovation with responsibility?
Conclusion: A Warning for Our Time
What seemed absurd in 1992 now feels chillingly plausible. Toys serves as both a time capsule and a cautionary tale, warning us about the unintended consequences of technological advancement. The rise of $400 drones capable of disabling multi-million-dollar tanks underscores the film’s enduring relevance, reminding us that sometimes, the most profound insights come wrapped in unexpected packages.
As we grapple with the realities of modern warfare, Levinson’s playful yet pointed vision stands as a prescient reminder of the complex relationship between technology, power, and morality.