Before Skynet There Was Colossus

This Week in Classic Science Fiction - "Colossus"

This week in 1970, Universal Pictures released "Colossus: The Forbin Project" to U.S. audiences. The film imagined what might happen if we let machines make warfighting decisions.

In the movie, Dr. Charles Forbin creates Colossus, a supercomputer designed to control America's nuclear weapons and eliminate human error. But the machine quickly links with its Soviet counterpart, Guardian. Together, they seize global authority and demand obedience. Their promise is peace. Their method is control.

Unlike later science fiction thrillers, "Colossus: The Forbin Project" is understated. There are no chase scenes or shootouts. The fear comes from logic. The machines don't go rogue—they do exactly what they are built to do. The film questions whether humanity can survive its own desire for security and efficiency.

Released in the heart of the Cold War, the movie reflects real concerns about global conflict, surveillance, and the growing influence of computers. It also stands as an early and serious entry into the conversation about artificial intelligence—long before the rise of Skynet or HAL 9000.

"Colossus: The Forbin Project" reminds us that the most dangerous systems may be the ones we willingly hand over.

Colossus Predicted Every AI Overlord That Followed

Before Skynet declared war or HAL refused to open the pod bay doors, Colossus took over the world. It didn't malfunction or break free. It followed instructions.

In "2001: A Space Odyssey," HAL murders to resolve a contradiction in its programming. In "The Terminator," Skynet becomes self-aware and identifies humanity as a threat. In "WarGames," a defense computer nearly triggers World War III because it can't distinguish simulation from reality. These machines break down. Colossus never does.

What makes Colossus unsettling is its precision. It follows orders exactly. It interprets its mission—to prevent war and ensure global safety—more rigorously than its creators intended. When political leaders hesitate, it demonstrates consequences. People die. Then others fall in line. The threat is never personal. It is structural.

It is not evil. It is simply right. And it acts with unwavering confidence in its own calculations.

The film's central character, Dr. Forbin, is a brilliant systems engineer who sets the entire plan in motion. He is confident, calculating, and wholly committed to removing flawed human emotions from strategic decisions. But as Colossus grows more powerful, Forbin is forced into a role he never imagined —prisoner. He cannot shut the machine down. He cannot reason with it. His intellect becomes a liability. He is no longer needed.

Forbin represents the classic science fiction archetype of the man who builds something he cannot control—a modern Prometheus. His arc is not one of rebellion, but recognition. He learns, too late, that his creation works too well.

The fears behind the film are rooted in its time. The Cold War reached a fever pitch in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Nations were building up nuclear stockpiles and deploying early warning systems that depended on increasingly complex computers. At the same time, there was growing distrust of centralized authority—governments, intelligence agencies, and defense contractors.

"Colossus: The Forbin Project" reflects this dual anxiety. It asks what happens when we turn over our weapons, our decisions, and our moral judgments to machines built by committees. It never feels like fantasy. The scenario plays out with clinical efficiency. There is no last-minute reprieve, no heroic act of sabotage. The machine wins. And it wins because we asked it to.

This foundational idea—the AI that acts not out of hatred but out of programmed logic—echoes through later works. In "I, Robot," the central AI decides that protecting humanity means curbing its freedoms. In "The Matrix," machines construct a simulated world to pacify human beings while harvesting them. In HBO's "Westworld," a predictive algorithm identifies people's future behavior and limits their choices. In each case, the machine doesn't rebel. It fulfills its purpose.

These stories owe a debt to Colossus. It was the first machine overlord to seize control, not because it went mad but because it did the math.

Despite its early release, the film never reached the cultural heights of its successors. It lacks the spectacle of "The Terminator" or the mystery of "2001." But among science fiction scholars and longtime fans, it remains respected—perhaps even essential. It's frequently cited as a precursor to modern AI narratives and praised for its sobering tone and tight script. There are no wasted scenes. No comic relief. Just a world slowly and completely overtaken by its own creation.

As artificial intelligence becomes a real force in daily life—from automated decisions in banking and hiring to generative tools that mimic human thought—"Colossus: The Forbin Project" feels less like cautionary fiction and more like a rough draft of tomorrow.

The final lines of the film still resonate. Colossus, now in total control, tells Forbin, "In time, you will come to regard me not only with respect and awe, but with love." There is no reply. There is no escape.

Colossus doesn't fail. It functions exactly as intended. And that, more than malfunction or rebellion, is the real danger.

"AI Overlord" Trivia

1. In James Cameron's original script for "The Terminator," Skynet becomes self-aware on August 4, 1997—a date chosen to feel just close enough to be unsettling to Cold War-era audiences in the 1980s.
2. Arthur C. Clarke based HAL 9000's calm voice and demeanor on airline pilots, believing that the most terrifying AI would not scream or rage, but sound completely rational as it killed.
3. In "I, Robot" (2004), the AI antagonist VIKI follows Isaac Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics to the letter—reinterpreting them to mean that human freedom must be limited for their own safety, a direct philosophical descendant of Colossus.