This sentiment - of shared humanity, of the looming nihilism - is a familiar one to me. There is a horrible truth that reality sometimes forces us to face. We, in the "civilized world," have gone for well over a century not having to face many horrible truths, thanks to technological advances, scientific discoveries, relative political stability, and in some cases the willful censorship of that which was commonly public witness (i.e. the public execution).
As an amateur urban "farmer" (more of a gardener, with bents into high-intensity aquaculture and hydroponics), I find myself facing some challenges that then cause me to wonder about the glorified greenhouse that humanity itself lives in. Sometimes the wastes overwhelms the system, and there is a need to intensely clean and purge. Sometimes the pests take over, feasting with predation and in spite of whatever other biological controls I can throw at the situation. The complex interacting systems thrown into disarray, their balance lost and opportunistic upswelling of ultimately self-destructive elements leads to one inevitable course of action, again and again: tear it down and start over.
Nature will rebalance itself, once given the chance. When we plant what does not naturally thrive without human intervention, and induce it thrive, we throw it out of balance (admittedly to our selfish benefit). With such action, we must recognize the eventualities we will face. There are many, not all will come to fruition, but they are there nonetheless, waiting. A crop of producing plants that is kept too long invites illness, decline, opportunistic invasion. Clinging to them out of sentiment, in hopes of getting one last good batch of beans, means we pay another price when the stems are covered with larvae and we must now work to interrupt a different set of life-cycles - namely, those which will be waiting to feast on new plants, new crops, sooner than they otherwise would.
We face in our sociopolitical world the growing threat of pestilence. It is of a mental kind, and therefore more difficult to find and mitigate. The pestilence isn't one of strange, new ideas, but of the adoption of closed-mindedness, of a selection of ideas to the utter exclusion of all others. But can people really afford to enjoy a variety of ideas? Ideas in the mind are all well and good, until they're put into action. Then they, and their consequences, become very real.
I had once read a quote that only the rich could afford to be atheists. It struck me as strange, but as I've watched the world devolve around us, it makes more sense to me now - albeit in a pessimistic, ennui-inducing way: to evaluate various ideas with the care and skill necessary to successfully identify the risks and benefits of each idea - to sift out the wheat from the chaff, so to speak - requires a state of mind and a level of intellect that I'd have thought would not be uncommon. I must wonder at this now, and it fills me with dread.
Suppose we take as an axiom that thought-leaders are generally dangerous, because those who follow them will follow generally uncritically, and such power most often (or eventually) tends toward evil. Then ideally the majority of the population would not follow thought-leaders, but would form their own opinions and beliefs based on careful analysis, experience, a wide breadth of varied knowledge, and good tenets that align with what we would find in good science. Is this too idealistic? Is this too fantastic to hope for?
The reality may be that human society itself does not scale well. The additional reality may be that this is not necessarily a bad thing. In our smaller enclaves, there may be homogeneity of ideas and beliefs. Amongst them, however, can live a vast variety. This was, I believe, the intent of the Founders (whether they realized it or not, but certain insofar as their decision to NOT assign a state religion). This is, for lack of any better term, true freedom. However, such freedom as what works for the individual requires that the state itself not be free to dictate how the individual should live. How do we handle the "evil" of society, then?
The delicate balance is one that, like all other systems of ideas, requires a care and wisdom that seems rapidly diminishing from the general populace. The best we may be able to do, is to select a line beyond which our lawmaking and controls no longer occur, such that we retain as much individual freedom as possible while ensuring enclaves of values can blossom in their own localities. Again, this may be foolishly idealistic.
Where any individual one of us is concerned, and myself among them, I try to keep in mind that I should try to live in the world that I would want to live in, and act accordingly where possible. It's a world where skin color is but another physical attribute (and nothing more); that culture is something a person grows up with, embraces, leaves behind, explores, chooses; that how we treat one another is important; that we ourselves are undeserving of another's attention or kindness, so we should be thankful when we receive it; that respect is a spectrum, and should start at a modicum and vary from there; that communication is foundational to all relationships, and therefore the greatest effort and concern should be taken when partaking in it; that we are all human.
Not knowing who else shares these values means having a guard up, carrying a firearm, locking doors, being wary. Yet if given the chance, I'd like to hope that should I encounter someone of similar values, we will get along just fine; and if I don't, at least my values will inform how I respond to whatever they may submit to our interactions - that I will not sink to their level if they are beneath me, or that I may learn from them if they are above me. If there is nothing else I can do in the world, I know at least I can do this; I know I can teach this to my children; I know that maybe, just maybe, I can inspire others to do the same.
Where the alternative is tearing everything down and starting over, with no guarantee of coming out the way we'd like, I think this is certainly one way forward. It is strange for an atheist to refer to faith, but it's probably the only word that applies to this kind of belief. I still can't bring myself to use it, yet I am determined to soldier on. I hope there are others who will as well.
This sentiment - of shared humanity, of the looming nihilism - is a familiar one to me. There is a horrible truth that reality sometimes forces us to face. We, in the "civilized world," have gone for well over a century not having to face many horrible truths, thanks to technological advances, scientific discoveries, relative political stability, and in some cases the willful censorship of that which was commonly public witness (i.e. the public execution).
As an amateur urban "farmer" (more of a gardener, with bents into high-intensity aquaculture and hydroponics), I find myself facing some challenges that then cause me to wonder about the glorified greenhouse that humanity itself lives in. Sometimes the wastes overwhelms the system, and there is a need to intensely clean and purge. Sometimes the pests take over, feasting with predation and in spite of whatever other biological controls I can throw at the situation. The complex interacting systems thrown into disarray, their balance lost and opportunistic upswelling of ultimately self-destructive elements leads to one inevitable course of action, again and again: tear it down and start over.
Nature will rebalance itself, once given the chance. When we plant what does not naturally thrive without human intervention, and induce it thrive, we throw it out of balance (admittedly to our selfish benefit). With such action, we must recognize the eventualities we will face. There are many, not all will come to fruition, but they are there nonetheless, waiting. A crop of producing plants that is kept too long invites illness, decline, opportunistic invasion. Clinging to them out of sentiment, in hopes of getting one last good batch of beans, means we pay another price when the stems are covered with larvae and we must now work to interrupt a different set of life-cycles - namely, those which will be waiting to feast on new plants, new crops, sooner than they otherwise would.
We face in our sociopolitical world the growing threat of pestilence. It is of a mental kind, and therefore more difficult to find and mitigate. The pestilence isn't one of strange, new ideas, but of the adoption of closed-mindedness, of a selection of ideas to the utter exclusion of all others. But can people really afford to enjoy a variety of ideas? Ideas in the mind are all well and good, until they're put into action. Then they, and their consequences, become very real.
I had once read a quote that only the rich could afford to be atheists. It struck me as strange, but as I've watched the world devolve around us, it makes more sense to me now - albeit in a pessimistic, ennui-inducing way: to evaluate various ideas with the care and skill necessary to successfully identify the risks and benefits of each idea - to sift out the wheat from the chaff, so to speak - requires a state of mind and a level of intellect that I'd have thought would not be uncommon. I must wonder at this now, and it fills me with dread.
Suppose we take as an axiom that thought-leaders are generally dangerous, because those who follow them will follow generally uncritically, and such power most often (or eventually) tends toward evil. Then ideally the majority of the population would not follow thought-leaders, but would form their own opinions and beliefs based on careful analysis, experience, a wide breadth of varied knowledge, and good tenets that align with what we would find in good science. Is this too idealistic? Is this too fantastic to hope for?
The reality may be that human society itself does not scale well. The additional reality may be that this is not necessarily a bad thing. In our smaller enclaves, there may be homogeneity of ideas and beliefs. Amongst them, however, can live a vast variety. This was, I believe, the intent of the Founders (whether they realized it or not, but certain insofar as their decision to NOT assign a state religion). This is, for lack of any better term, true freedom. However, such freedom as what works for the individual requires that the state itself not be free to dictate how the individual should live. How do we handle the "evil" of society, then?
The delicate balance is one that, like all other systems of ideas, requires a care and wisdom that seems rapidly diminishing from the general populace. The best we may be able to do, is to select a line beyond which our lawmaking and controls no longer occur, such that we retain as much individual freedom as possible while ensuring enclaves of values can blossom in their own localities. Again, this may be foolishly idealistic.
Where any individual one of us is concerned, and myself among them, I try to keep in mind that I should try to live in the world that I would want to live in, and act accordingly where possible. It's a world where skin color is but another physical attribute (and nothing more); that culture is something a person grows up with, embraces, leaves behind, explores, chooses; that how we treat one another is important; that we ourselves are undeserving of another's attention or kindness, so we should be thankful when we receive it; that respect is a spectrum, and should start at a modicum and vary from there; that communication is foundational to all relationships, and therefore the greatest effort and concern should be taken when partaking in it; that we are all human.
Not knowing who else shares these values means having a guard up, carrying a firearm, locking doors, being wary. Yet if given the chance, I'd like to hope that should I encounter someone of similar values, we will get along just fine; and if I don't, at least my values will inform how I respond to whatever they may submit to our interactions - that I will not sink to their level if they are beneath me, or that I may learn from them if they are above me. If there is nothing else I can do in the world, I know at least I can do this; I know I can teach this to my children; I know that maybe, just maybe, I can inspire others to do the same.
Where the alternative is tearing everything down and starting over, with no guarantee of coming out the way we'd like, I think this is certainly one way forward. It is strange for an atheist to refer to faith, but it's probably the only word that applies to this kind of belief. I still can't bring myself to use it, yet I am determined to soldier on. I hope there are others who will as well.
Good piece.
Thank you. I wish I had more than throwing my hands up.