“To act — or not to act.” That is the question posed by the central character in Data, Matthew Libby’s astonishing new play, now in its world premiere at Arena Stage.
That character, named Maneesh, is a somewhat naïve 22-year-old, just out of college and eager to secure the approval of his colleagues at a large, but highly secretive, organization. His dilemma, when faced with the potential consequences of the company’s work, is whether to expose or accept its secrets.
Blown away by the play — and its ability to weave together the classic with the not-yet-happening modern — I cornered the 29-year-old author for a video interview, conducted from the Arena lobby a few weeks before I saw the production.
“It’s a fast-paced thriller set in the sleek, sunny world of Silicon Valley,” Libby began. “And it’s all about the dark underbelly of this world, a bit of a black box, controlling much of our lives and institutions.
“I wanted to get across the excitement of this world, to help people see why it’s so enticing, so full of idealism and wit before you get to the dark core underneath,” he added.
In fact, Libby thinks parts of the play are funny. “I think there’s an inherent absurdity that the play gets into. There’s a lot of F-bombs and a lot of technical jargon, but it’s less about the audience understanding every word than it is about giving a picture of a world in which jargon dominates, revealing or hiding intention.
“In the end,” he added, “I think it’s meant to be an entertaining thrill ride with a lot of highfalutin’ themes baked in.”
The play focuses on four employees at a fictitious corporation called Athena Technologies, a software company for data analytics. (According to Libby, it’s loosely modeled on a real-life company that operates in a highly secretive manner, creating software that allows its clients to identify people or trends that may affect their business or industry — or even, perhaps, society as a whole.)
The central character, Maneesh (played by Karan Brar with a deft combination of shyness and humor), is a brilliant entry-level programmer who is promoted to a secret division at the company. When Maneesh discovers the true nature of the project, he is faced with a crisis of conscience.
The question Maneesh confronts is whether to expose the project — joining another whistle-blower who needs his help — or go on working on it, regardless of the consequences.
“The project itself is a mystery,” Libby explained. Since it’s not revealed until the second half of the play, I’ll leave that for audiences to discover.
Asked whether Maneesh is the playwright’s alter ego, Libby laughed and admitted that there were certainly some ways in which the two were similar.
“I’ve been told by my parents that his speech patterns replicate mine,” he added with a wry grin.
More significantly, both the author and his creation are graduates of Stanford University, with degrees in cognitive science — which is the basis for what is known today as artificial intelligence, or AI — and both are concerned about the potential danger of the data-mining industry.
“It’s a billion-dollar industry, and it’s been a big concern to me even before the AI boom began,” he said, adding that the introduction of ChatGPT — which really set off the boom — has not only magnified his concern but radically increased the relevancy of the play.
On the other hand, the character is superficially quite different from the author. For one thing, Maneesh is Indian American, the son of immigrant parents who risked their lives to escape persecution and see their sons established in a safe new world.
Libby, on the other hand, is from a well-established family, originally from Europe, and many generations removed from the refugees now arriving.
In creating the character, the playwright also chose to turn the role upside down. “So many stories about Silicon Valley are told from the point of view of the CEO, who is typically a white man who holds all the power,” he said.
“Maneesh, on the other hand, is an entry-level employee. Instead of being charismatic and confident, he’s an anxious 22-year-old, just out of college and dealing with the real world for the first time.”
And instead of being white, he’s a person of color, a child of immigrants whose identity is central to the story.
Everyone bullies Maneesh, yet he handles it with laid-back aplomb. Jonah, his entry-level buddy — and constant ping-pong partner — is a belligerent, ambitious, but none-too-bright employee who hopes that company loyalty will offset his lack of talent. Played to great comic effect by Stephen Cefalu Jr., he wears a company T-shirt and an air of aggressive stupidity.
While Jonah bullies with ping pong — creating a syncopated beat for his arguments — Alex, a senior executive who is Asian American, is more sinuous. Instead of smashing a ball back and forth with a paddle, Alex slithers around on the floor, tempting Maneesh with reminders of the hopes of their families.
Alex and Maneesh are both first-generation Americans; they are eager to please their parents, who have suffered harrowing conditions in order to get their sons into the right schools and then into the right jobs at the right companies. Alex, played with wily but credible charm by Rob Yang, is brilliant and sensitive, but an apologist in the end. (His is the voice of the ultimate corporate or government excuse: “If we don’t do it, someone else will.”)
The most sympathetic of the co-workers — and thus the most persuasive — is Riley, the lone female in the group, who knew Maneesh at Stanford. It is Riley who knows about the new algorithm that Maneesh has discovered, and who uses that knowledge to try to propel him into acting on her side. Isabel Van Natta brings a combination of idealism and affinity to the role that is highly seductive.
The story is told in a series of rapid-fire scenes, separated by screeching sounds and light effects bordering the stage. The shadows cast upon the walls are stark and threatening, stemming from the lighting design (by Amith Chandrashaker) and the extraordinary set (by Marsha Ginsberg), which looks like the inside of a corrugated metal box.
Much of the credit for the taut pacing of the show is due to its director, Margot Bordelon. Called in at the last minute, to replace someone who had a scheduling conflict, she turned out to be the perfect choice.
“Margot and I have known each other for years,” Libby said. “She knew the play, she knew me, and she’d worked at Arena. We even have the same agent!” He shook his head in amazement.
“It was a perfect solution. She agreed to do it in just 72 hours.”
Turning back to the subject of data mining and AI, Libby mused over the question of whether the brain is in fact a computer.
“Even before the AI boom, we were asking what it means to be human in an increasingly technological world,” he explained. “Ask yourself, What does social media mean? What is smart about a smartphone?”
“Those questions are inherently dramatic,” he added.
“What’s interesting is that this play predates the AI boom. I started writing it six years ago, in 2018, at a time when the play had a kind of five-minutes-into-the-future bent. But now that AI is here, it’s five minutes after the event.
“That’s because the technology described in the play actually exists. The use to which it’s put — which becomes the mystery at the center of the play — doesn’t exist yet, but it probably could!”
In fact, every time he went back to the play, often after a break of only a few months, he found that what he thought was the future was in fact the present or the past.
“The question was, How do you write something that feels like it’s current but is probably going to be out of date by the time the play actually opens?” he asked.
The solution, for Libby, was to look at the philosophical and moral questions that underlie the story. In other words, “To act, or not to act…”
The main reason that the play is relevant today, he added, is that it looks at the issue of AI from both a human perspective and a political one.
The political question is paramount. For Libby, the biggest concern about AI is how the legacy institutions — such as the U.S. government and its law enforcement agencies — will use AI as a tool.
“There are many ways in which the proliferation of data can be used to predict or streamline human behavior, and that’s a good thing. The problem, for me, is when these things are done in secret.
“The technologies themselves have no inherent value, good or bad. But there’s an incredible amount of data out there, about every single one of us, regardless of whether we’ve opted in or out. And once the information is out there, as the saying goes, there’s no putting the genie back in the bottle.”
Stunned, I asked, “Is there anything that cannot be touched by an algorithm?”
“That’s a very relevant question right now,” he responded, “both for us personally, as individuals, and politically, as a country.
“There’s some scary stuff that a president could do, using this technology,” he warned.
“Are you saying that these tools can either illuminate or destroy?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered, “Yes, I think the data created by AI can be tools of abundance and illumination, but they can also be tools of oppression. They can be used to make people’s lives better. And they can be used to make people’s lives worse. It really has everything to do with the intention behind them.”
What should audiences expect when they see Data?
“Bottom line, it’s a thriller. And it’s got a lot of fast dialogue, which young people like. Young people, more than others, have a real sense of the power they have — the power to look behind the curtain and see a world that really does not want people peering in.
“There’s a lot of Gen Z anxiety in the play,” he added.
At 29, Libby is not much older than the leading characters. And although he’s won dozens of awards for plays presented at college readings and workshops, Data is one of his first plays to be professionally produced. (Another, Sisters — written later than Data but mounted a few weeks earlier, at Northern Stage in Vermont — is also about AI and its consequences.
“Data was originally supposed to have had its world premiere three years ago, but it was canceled due to the pandemic. So it’s been a long time coming,” he said ruefully. But he’s thrilled now to have it at Arena, with a longer run than most new plays are given.
We’re thrilled, too, since that’s a little over three weeks more in which to see it.
Data plays through December 15, 2024, in the Kogod Cradle at Arena Stage, 1101 6th Street SW, Washington, DC. Tickets ($75–$149) may be obtained online, by phone at 202-488-3300, or in person at the Sales Office (Tuesday-Sunday, 12-8 p.m.). Arena Stage offers savings programs including “pay your age” tickets for those aged 35 and under, student discounts, and “Southwest Nights” for those living and working in the District’s Southwest neighborhood. To learn more, visit arenastage.org/savings-programs.
Running Time: Approximately one hour and 40 minutes, with no intermission.
The program for Data is online here.
COVID Safety: Arena Stage recommends but does not require that patrons wear facial masks in theaters except in designated mask-required performances (December 1 at 7:30 p.m.). For up-to-date information, visit arenastage.org/safety.
SEE ALSO:
Driving new drama ‘Data’ at Arena Stage digs into ethics of big tech (review by Bob Ashby, November 10, 2024)