History
From The Difference Engine, by William Gibson and Bruce Sterling.
There is nothing to history. No progress, no justice. There is nothing but random horror.
Seems like I read a lot of SF set in an apocalyptic London.

From The Difference Engine, by William Gibson and Bruce Sterling.
There is nothing to history. No progress, no justice. There is nothing but random horror.
Seems like I read a lot of SF set in an apocalyptic London.
From Surface Detail by Iain M. Banks, emphasis mine:
It was a truism that as a scientific society progressed, its ships gradually ceased to be strictly utilitarian designs in which almost every part was in some way vital to the running of the craft. Normally they went through an intermediate stage where the overall conception was still limited by the necessities imposed by the environment in which the vessels travelled but within which there was considerable opportunity for the designers, crew and passengers/inhabitants to fashion them pretty much as they please, before – usually some centuries after the gross vulgarity of rocket power – simple space travel became so mature a technology it was almost trivial. At this point, practically anything not messily joined to lots of other important stuff could be quite easily turned into a space-capable craft able to transport humans – or any other species spectacularly maladapted to hard vacuum and the somewhat industrial radiation environment generally associated with it – to (at the very least) different parts of the same stellar system.
Now I want you to think about how almost everyone (in the US) has a so-called smartphone, how even teenagers take this technology for granted, how that technology has become “almost trivial.” And then think about our inability to travel to different parts of the same stellar system.