The year is 2051. Being attracted to a natural-born human is illegal; one may be attracted to semi-sentient AIs or pleasure robots. No one is allowed out in public unless accompanied by a robot minder.
Travel five miles beyond your designated and assigned home (a windowless 75m2 pod) is verboten without special and difficult-to-get permits. Everyone has enough to eat — that is, if you like bug slurry. And you better like bug slurry, because that’s all there is.
The old and sick just disappear after a while. No one is sure what happens to them. Sometimes the bug slurry has a different color, causing people to wonder.
The liberals declare it “utopia.”