Reprogramming the Future: What “Terminator 2” Can Teach Us About Existential Anxiety

I was seven when Terminator 2: Judgment Day hit theaters on July 3rd, 1991, and even now, I can still feel its visceral impact—the pounding theme music, the crunch of a robot foot crushing a human skull, and the haunting image of a nuclear blast reducing bodies to ash. For my childhood brain, T2 wasn’t just about robots and explosions. It was a slick, candy-coated reality check, planting the terrifying seed that the world could unravel, that adults might not have all the answers, and that technology could spiral out of control.

Decades later, that same dread feels even more relevant. AI is no longer science fiction—it’s actively reshaping our reality. Add to that the existential weight of climate breakdown and institutional collapse, and it’s no wonder that so many of us are feeling a palpable anxiety—dare I say, terror—about the future.

You’re Not Alone: Existential Anxiety Is Everywhere

Existential anxiety is a deep, pervasive unease about life’s biggest questions—meaning, purpose, mortality, and the unknown. Left unexamined, it operates like a ghost, defying the laws of logic and leaving us vulnerable to forces beyond our control. Using T2 as a lens, we can explore these modern anxieties while also uncovering ways to stay grounded in the face of uncertainty.

T2 crafts a world teetering on the edge of collapse, where fears of technological, institutional, and environmental destruction are woven into every frame. Tech companies, embodied by Cyberdyne Systems, recklessly pursue progress without considering the catastrophic consequences. The police are powerless against the AI threat, often making things worse. And the Los Angeles traffic—endless congestion, the city suffocating under its own weight—paints a picture of human overreach. These early shots juxtapose the present-day chaos with the apocalyptic wasteland of the future, creating a sense of urgency: If humanity could only see the future, would we change course?

Lessons from T2: Confronting Existential Anxiety

The ultimate message of T2 is that AI, in the wrong hands, is too dangerous. The film’s climax sees the Terminator sacrificing itself to prevent AI’s rise—a metaphor for the need to control technological progress before it controls us. The film presents a spectrum of characters that offer us different insights into how existential anxiety operates and how we can navigate its fears: the T-1000, an unfeeling sociopath; the Terminator, programmed to protect but still bound by logic; Sarah Connor, hardened by trauma but fiercely human; and John Connor, the vulnerable yet hopeful child. Their struggles mirror our own—how do we retain our humanity in a world increasingly on the verge of collapse?

The Ultimate Fear: T-1000 as Unchecked AI

The T-1000 is the embodiment of existential horror—an AI with no guardrails, endlessly adaptable, unstoppable, and emotionless. Or environmental collapse spurred on by unchecked fossil fuel consumption. Or the collapse of democracy into oligarchy, driven by a fearful, overwhelmed electorate. The T-1000 liquefies through jail bars, mimics loved ones, and erases obstacles with cold efficiency. The fear it evokes is the fear of an intelligence beyond our control, an environment rendered uninhabitable due to human greed, and a government that dehumanizes its citizens.

A Vision of Hope: Reprogramming the Terminator

Unlike the original Terminator (1984), where machines are purely evil, T2 introduces the idea that AI can be reprogrammed for good. The reprogrammed Terminator protects John Connor, offering a vision of AI aligned with human values. Here too, we can imagine how we might begin addressing climate change by diversifying our energy infrastructure, or revitalizing democracy by redistributing resources more equitably and building systems that truly support collective well-being—through healthcare, education, and democratic reform. This raises an important question: Can we face the challenges of our time and move toward a beneficial future, or are we on an inevitable path toward destruction?

The Weight of Impossible Expectations: Sarah Connor

Sarah Connor is a working-class woman thrust into an impossible role—saving humanity while being dismissed as insane. She embodies the stress of bearing knowledge too heavy for one person and the burnout of fighting a battle no one else acknowledges. Her experience amplifies the feeling of helplessness: How do we fight for a future when the very systems meant to protect us are accelerating our downfall instead?

Her hypervigilance, paranoia, and exhaustion mirror the way anxiety can shape our lives, keeping us in a constant state of readiness for disaster. We see this in the activists and those fighting against systemic issues today, who often carry the weight of urgent, unacknowledged crises. Sarah reminds us of the toll of living in a world that often denies or downplays impending threats—be it climate change, AI risks, or institutional injustice.

The Children Are Our Future: John Connor

John Connor, a street-smart hacker and reluctant hero, represents the next generation raised in a world on the brink. He’s resourceful, adaptable, and deeply affected by the machines around him. This reflects the struggles of Gen Z and Millennials facing climate anxiety, AI disruption, and economic instability. While he finds fatherly guidance in the reprogrammed Terminator, he also faces the terrifying reality that his fate has already been shaped by generations before him—often with little regard for the world he’ll inherit. Doomscrolling through natural disasters, political upheaval, or watching deepfakes distort reality, they’re left wondering: Can we still change course when the road ahead feels set in stone?

Together, these characters and their journeys offer a blueprint for confronting existential anxiety in an age where technological, environmental, and institutional fears loom large. Whether it’s Sarah Connor’s hypervigilance, the T-1000’s embodiment of unrestrained AI, or John Connor’s struggle to find agency in a world that seems pre-written, T2 reflects the same challenges we face today. The film invites us to examine how we respond to dread—whether we give in to fear, like Sarah’s initial paranoia, or seek to reclaim our humanity by grounding ourselves in connection, creativity, and purpose.

In the face of overwhelming uncertainty, the message of T2 is clear: the future is not set, and while we may not be able to predict what’s ahead, we can choose how to respond. By bringing our fears into the light, questioning the systems shaping our world, and remembering what makes us human, we can resist the pull of hopelessness—and perhaps even rewrite the future.

A Call to Reflection—and Action

I can still see us that summer—my friends and I, acting out T2 scenes in the sun-bleached grass of my front yard. At the time, I didn’t understand why the movie stuck with me so deeply. Looking back, it wasn’t just the fact that it was an extraordinary action movie—it was the prescient message to wake up, acknowledge our fears, and fight for the future we want instead of succumbing to the terror of the unknown.

T2 reminds us that the future is not set—it’s shaped by the choices we make today. In the face of overwhelming uncertainty, we can reclaim our agency by grounding ourselves in what makes us human: creativity, connection, and purpose. We need to get off our phones, connect with the communities and causes we believe in, and actively engage with our fears to make the world a better place. And when those fears feel too heavy to carry alone, therapy can offer a space to process them, build resilience, and imagine new possibilities.

After all, as John Connor reminds us: "There's no fate but what we make for ourselves."

And maybe the first step is just naming what we’re afraid of—and choosing to face it together.