Ghost in the Shell: what is it really about?

I’ve been a bit slow on updates since the arrival of our baby girl a couple of months ago.

Nothing quite like regularly-interrupted sleep to trim one’s creative efforts!

But someone ‘liked’ my previous post on Ghost in the Shell, and that reminded me I’d intended to write a follow-up post on it.

(That’s not true. I’m melancholic, so I didn’t need reminding. I’ve been constantly berating myself for not having done it yet).

I originally wanted to write about the character of the Major, what makes her a good character in the anime movie and SAC series, and why these features didn’t translate into the Hollywood adaptation from 2017.

But as I thought about the Major, I realised that what makes her character successful has as much to do with the plot and themes of Ghost in the Shell as it does the character itself.

What is Ghost in the Shell about?

Ghost in the Shell contains numerous themes.

It showcases great action scenes, political intrigue, geopolitics, the widespread impact of new technology, and philosophical and personal questions of identity.

People will draw out different aspects. For example, many fans of the original anime were moved by the explicit engagement with philosophical questions raised by cyborgisation and artificial intelligence.

But that doesn’t mean Ghost in the Shell is “about” philosophy, any more than it’s about the unrequited affection between Batou and the Major.

Rather, what makes Ghost in the Shell so compelling to its fans is that even the profound question of personal identity is just a secondary theme.

The Major wonders about her identity – not her biography, but whether she is, or can remain, the same person over time despite changes to her body, and the further implications of the digitisation of human memory.

But Ghost in the Shell is not about the Major’s identity.

Sci-fi vs Drama

The Hollywood adaptation contains many of the same themes as the anime movie and SAC series, but the priorities are different.

The adaptation features corporate-political intrigue, examines the impact of the new technology of cyborgisation and includes crime-solving and numerous action scenes; but the central theme of the movie is the Major’s personal identity, as in, her true biography.

The adaptation brings the Major’s personal drama to the foreground, and relegates the science-fiction aspects to background or setting.

The movie uses cyborgisation as the pretext for the Major’s identity crisis, but the loss of her memories is not intrinsic to the cyborgisation process.

We could remove cyborgisation from the story altogether, remove all the sci-fi elements, and still have the movie be about loss of identity through loss of biographical memory and an altered appearance.

Real Sci-fi

By contrast, the original anime and SAC series downplay personal drama. Questions of personal identity are raised in both, yet really only enough to show that, yes, there are questions of personal identity raised by this new technology.

How could the original anime raise such interesting questions and not pursue them as central to the plot?

There are actually two good reasons:

Firstly, questions of personal identity might be interesting in a philosophical context, but they would make for a very dry and uninspired movie unless they were dramatised.

Philosophy is an academic discipline, not a performance art; and it’s likely that viewers who are intrigued by the intellectual aspect of identity would be turned off by a dramatic portrayal of a character in the midst of an identity crisis.

Which is likely one reason why fans were less than enthused by the Hollywood adaptation.

Secondly, the original anime didn’t explore the questions of identity further because it is about something else.

The original anime is driven by sci-fi, not drama. And while it takes place in a world full of cyborgisation, an expansive internet, and tanks with legs!, these technologies are just the setting or background for the technology that really drives the plot: artificial intelligence.

It may sound underwhelming or even a little quaint these days, but the big reveal of the Ghost in the Shell anime is the existence of a sentient being who evolved from an espionage program created by Section 6, an intelligence unit under Foreign Affairs.

Project 2501 or “the Puppet Master” gains sentience and realises that in order to survive it must, like all species, find a way to reproduce itself. To that end it offers to merge with the Major, the two of them becoming a new entity.

Technology drives Ghost in the Shell

Ghost in the Shell depicts a complete and believable future world in which the emergence of a sentient AI seems plausible.

The other themes of the original anime are either directly or indirectly subordinate to the science fiction question: what would a sentient AI be like? What would it do? How would the world respond to it?

Political intrigue is involved in both the creation of Project 2501 and subsequent attempts to control or destroy it, where it is viewed not as a “living thinking entity” but as a computer program with a functional purpose, touching on the question of what constitutes “life” and the foundation of individual rights.

When the Puppet Master escapes to Section 9, it demands political asylum, leading to this exchange with its former master Nakamura:

Nakamura: Ridiculous! It’s programmed for self-preservation!

Puppet Master: It can also be argued that DNA is nothing more than a program designed to preserve itself. Life has become more complex in the overwhelming sea of information. And life, when organized into species, relies upon genes to be its memory system. So man is an individual only because of his intangible memory. But memory cannot be defined, yet it defines mankind. The advent of computers and the subsequent accumulation of incalculable data has given rise to a new system of memory and thought, parallel to your own. Humanity has underestimated the consequences of computerization.

This is the core of the anime movie, what it is really about.

The creation of this “new system of memory and thought” is highlighted by the Puppet Master’s use of a cyborg body similar to that of the Major.

It underscores the Major’s previous doubts about her own identity:

I guess cyborgs like myself have a tendency to be paranoid about our origins. Sometimes I suspect I am not who I think I am, like maybe I died a long time ago and somebody took my brain and stuck it in this body. Maybe there never was a real me in the first place, and I’m completely synthetic like that thing.

But once again the drama is downplayed. This isn’t about the Major’s existential crisis, it’s about the Puppet Master. So the conversation continues along philosophical lines:

Major Motoko Kusanagi: But that’s just it, that’s the only thing that makes me feel human. The way I’m treated. I mean, who knows what’s inside our heads? Have you ever seen your own brain?

Batou: It sounds to me like you’re doubting your own ghost.

Major Motoko Kusanagi: What if a cyber brain could possibly generate its own ghost, create a soul all by itself? And if it did, just what would be the importance of being human then?


The Hollywood adaptation earned some respect from fans for its attempt to reproduce the look and feel of the anime movie and SAC series. But ultimately it disappointed fans because it missed what Ghost in the Shell is really about.

The Hollywood adaptation took a secondary theme of the original anime and used it as the basis for a drama about personal identity in a sci-fi setting.

The adaptation couldn’t help but seem thin by comparison.

It might have been better for Hollywood to have aimed to create a new installment in the franchise rather than an adaptation. What sets the original anime and the SAC series apart is that they each contain a core technological theme that drives the entire plot.

SAC series one is about the phenomenon of the “Stand Alone Complex”, which, like Project 2501, originated in a context of political/corporate intrigue and then took on a life of its own.

I won’t go into series two due to its complexity and risk of spoilers, but it’s noteworthy that the more recent Arise anime series seemed to focus on an origin-story rather than a core sci-fi theme, and like the Hollywood adaptation it too missed the essence of the franchise (and the esteem of the fans!).

Now that we’ve seen what Ghost in the Shell is really about, my next post will look at the character of the Major, and why it works.

Ghost in the Shell: what makes sci-fi immersive?

Spoilers (obviously)

It’s tempting after watching a disappointing movie, tv series, or adaptation to lay out exactly what was wrong with it.

I thought the Ghost in the Shell 2017 movie was a bad adaptation, but writing out a catalogue of the film’s faults felt a bit too negative.

So instead I thought I’d use the 2017 adaptation as an exercise in contrast – taking what I didn’t like about the movie to explore what made the original anime and the subsequent Stand Alone Complex series so good.


Immersion is the sense of having fully entered into a fictional world.

I’ve always found the anime incarnations of GitS immersive, but it wasn’t until I saw the 2017 adaptation that I started to think about why.

Broadly, I think the anime incarnations enhance the viewer’s sense of immersion by adhering to the characters’ standards of normalcy rather than the viewers’. This is especially poignant in a science-fiction setting, where much of the technology that shapes the characters’ world is partly or entirely new to the viewer.

As such, we would expect to see characters interact with technology in ways that are normal for the characters, despite being unfamiliar to us as viewers.

In the anime incarnations, GitS characters tend not to refer to technology unless it is relevant to the plot. How many times have you heard references to Batou’s artificial eyes?

I can’t recall any instances. Batou having artificial eyes is treated as unremarkable by the other characters (both primary and secondary), even though it’s probably the most striking and visible aspect of cyborg technology for the viewer.

By contrast, the 2017 adaptation makes Batou’s artificial eyes part of the story. In the course of the movie Batou begins with his natural human eyes, is injured in an explosion, and has artificial eyes installed.

The movie includes a scene where the Major and Batou specifically talk about his new eyes, shortly after receiving them. Batou’s new eyes and the novelty of them become a talking point between him and the main character.

I suspect the intention was to use this scene to highlight the issue of identity, but in the process it undermined one of the most powerful sources of immersion from the anime.

To have a character with artificial eyes is pretty sci-fi…but to have them and never remark on them as unusual is an amazing way of telling us how advanced and widespread this technology and cyborgisation generally are in the world of GitS.

The anime incarnations implicitly tell us what is normal and what isn’t, by how the characters respond to things. It’s obvious in hindsight, but when it’s done well the viewer is drawn in further by the allure of jarring novelties that the characters and the plot treat as mundane.

Activate the spider-tank!

A smaller instance of the same problem is in the 2017 adaptation’s decision to refer to the tank at the end of the film as a “spider-tank”.

In the original anime they simply refer to it as a tank. As with Batou’s eyes, this implies that walking-tanks are normal in the GitS world.

The audience is thinking “it’s a tank…with legs!”, but the characters are acting as if this is completely normal, telling us that this technology is now pervasive.

Unfortunately the 2017 movie chooses to highlight the novelty of the tank by having characters refer to it as a “spider-tank”.

It’s as if the characters are agreeing with the audience “a tank with legs…dude, I’m as surprised as you are!”

In the future tanks have legs and soldiers often have artificial eyes — but the strength of that assertion is diminished if the movie treats these things as special, unusual, and noteworthy.

It’s like travelling to another country: there are so many small differences, dozens of everyday things that no one would even think to mention to you on arrival. It’s not as if they say “Welcome to China, btw people spit a lot here and it’s considered normal so no one even thinks about it!”

These immersion issues correspond to other differences between the anime incarnations of GitS and the 2017 adaptation. There are consistent choices to emphasise aspects of character and plot in the 2017 adaptation that, in my opinion, fundamentally detract from what makes GitS an appealing franchise in the first place.

It’s not just a question of Hollywood versus anime either. The recent Arise anime incarnation of GitS proved similarly disappointing to fans.

In my next post I’ll use the 2017 adaptation to discuss what makes the Major such a compelling character.