This novel begs a lot of questions. Questions like: What is a yatto-gram? A misspelling of yotta-gram or just a nonsense word? Why did no one bother to inform Miss Winterson that Social Darwinism has been discredited since the 19th century, and that even than it was only believed by racist businessmen? Does anyone really think words sound more futuristic if you prefix them with space- or laser-? Why does the protagonist keep referring to herself as a "scientist", when in fact she is in fact a social worker/farmer? Who's actually managing the farm when she spends all her days doing social work? Why is there a pristine farm on a planet dying from pollution, anyway? Were all the robots deigned by twelve-year-olds? Lesbian sex-robots?
It calls to attention important social issues. Issues like the failing education system, which obviously failed to teach Jeanette Winterson about important concepts like evolution and gravity, and that air isn't actually synonymous with oxygen.
But in all seriousness, this novel is quite terrible. It is preachy, overbearing, sappy, and quite possibly the most poorly researched piece of fiction I have ever read. I would recommend it to people who laugh at critical research failures and enjoy watching trains derail.