A world where the machines got better and the people did not.
Both of these are from 1927. The word "cyberpunk" would not exist for another fifty-six years.
Bruce Bethke wrote a short story called "Cyberpunk," published in Amazing Stories in November 1983. He was not naming a movement — he was naming a story about teenage hackers.
Editor Gardner Dozois then took the word for a 1984 Washington Post article, "SF in the Eighties," and applied it to William Gibson, Bruce Sterling, Lewis Shiner, Pat Cadigan and Greg Bear — also called the "mirrorshades group." The word was lifted from a story title and pinned on writers who never asked for it.
This is why "punk" is in the name — the protagonist is technically capable and socially disposable.
Every later -punk keeps this shape and swaps the machine.
Technology advancing does not mean life improving; cyberpunk splits those two lines apart and lets them run in opposite directions. The phrase circulates as the genre's shorthand with no single agreed first user — credit it to the genre, not a person.
Between them they settled the genre before most of its books were written.
Cyberpunk's city is not invented; it is Hong Kong, photographed and then darkened. Kowloon Walled City: roughly 33,000 people in a single block of interlocked buildings, effectively ungoverned, demolished in 1993–94.
Repeatedly cited as the source of cyberpunk's dense vertical city and a direct reference for Ghost in the Shell. Ridley Scott said he wanted Blade Runner to look like "Hong Kong on a bad day."
The most futuristic-looking genre of the twentieth century was largely a documentary of a neighbourhood that no longer exists.
In the 1980s Japan was expected to become the dominant economic power. Cyberpunk absorbed that expectation and never updated it — Japanese signage, zaibatsu, Tokyo streets, one decade's anxiety frozen in place.
Akira (1988) and Ghost in the Shell (1995) then made Japan an author of the genre rather than only its setting.
Its central fear largely arrived: corporate power exceeding state power, surveillance as infrastructure, private data as the real currency, a comfortable interface over an uncomfortable system.
What it missed is stranger — it expected the body to be modified far more than it has been, and never guessed the network would be dull, social and advertising-funded rather than a black cathedral of data.