Forgotten Forgetting

Every so often I come across two prevailing beliefs in conversations. One is that humans are innately selfish, prone to violence, and/or nasty. The other is that our hunter-gatherer ancestors often beat each other up to steal scarce resources. The two beliefs are linked. They are both highly debatable, and most likely false.

The common imagery associated with the second of these beliefs is that of opposing groups of hunter-gatherers coming into contact and, using clubs, spears, and other weapons, attacking one another. Such imagery supposes that one group may have just killed a deer, and the other group wishes to steal the deer for their own use.

A further image of hunter-gatherers is that of the males going off and taking a woman of another group by force and dragging her (many images show by the hair) back to his own cave.

These images are palpably untrue.

Yet, these images, and the beliefs themselves, are likely to be the source of the first belief – that humans are inherently malicious and horrible creatures - or perhaps stem from that belief themselves.

Over the years these images and beliefs have had their adherents, sometimes advanced by high profile, and influential people. One of the most notable was the 17^th century English philosopher Thomas Hobbes. In his book, Leviathan,¹ Hobbes curtly and bluntly summed up the belief that humans are innately unpleasant by stating that the ‘life of man (is) solitary, poor, nasty, brutal, and short.’

Hobbes’ solution to this condition was to enter into a social contract by which citizens give up their freedoms to powerful individuals and/or parliaments in exchange for safety. By expanding upon this notion Hobbes became known as the father of political philosophy.

Hobbes’ summary is a very bleak assessment of the nature of humanity, isn’t it?

Yet, I hear and read versions of this assessment constantly from many people; from esteemed authors to those I share a coffee with. Our culture seems to have adopted this view uncritically. Perhaps, more likely, we have simply forgotten how things were before we took to agriculture in a big way. Daniel Quinn calls this The Great Forgetting; the ‘fact that before the advent of agriculture and village life, humans had lived in a profoundly different way.’²

Over the past 10,000 years or so, not only have we forgotten how things were, but we have also even forgotten that we have forgotten. So that nowadays we assume that our hunter-gatherer ancestors lived ‘solitary, poor, nasty, brutal, and short’ lives, because that was the way Hobbes and others saw the world of their time. This judgment by Hobbes and others has entered our cultural belief system and worldview, so much so that it goes unquestioned.

Yet, research by palaeontologists, archaeologists, and anthropologists challenges the belief. This research shows that our ancestors roamed over large expanses, yet when they encountered other groups, the contact was not one of distrust or aggression. More often it was to trade, to re-acquaint with friends or relatives, to find mates (outside of one’s own clan), to learn new skills, and to participate in ceremonies and rituals. As the authors of one review paper claim, hunter-gatherers ‘moved because they were part of a mobile society that was large, complex, and distributed.’³

Our hunter-gather ancestors did not live in isolated small groups according to these researchers. Hunter-gather society was complex and interrelated. This is what we have forgotten.

During Hobbes’ time the research techniques of palaeontologists and anthropologists were not available to him; consequently, he was unable to remember life thousands of years before. He most likely assumed that what he saw of British society of his time was how things had always been. His words became explanations without evidence. Today, as I hear and see these same images and beliefs repeated, they sound and look more and more like justification, rather than simply explanation. If not outright justification, then at least tolerant credibility.

Today, we try to find ways to overcome aggression, violence, poverty, and harshness, because we think these arise from our innate human nature. But, if we have forgotten our state of nature as it was for 95% of our human existence, then we do not need to find ways to overcome our nature: we simply need to stop forgetting.

Notes:

1. To give its full title: Leviathan, or the Matter, Forme, and Power of a Common Wealth, Ecclesiastical and Civil. First published in 1651. (They were prone to protracted book titles at that time.)

2. Daniel Quinn, Have You Heard of the Great Forgetting? An excerpt from his book The Story of B. It used to be on his Ishmael.com website, but with the shift to Ishmael.org it has disappeared. However, the article is still available on the Films for Action website - https://www.filmsforaction.org/articles/the-great-forgetting/  accessed 16 October 2024

3. Cecilia Padilla-Iglesias, Why do hunter-gatherers refuse to be sedentary? University of Zūrich, March 2024 https://aeon.co/essays/the-hunter-gatherers-of-the-21st-century-who-live-on-the-move  accessed 16 October 2024

Wisdom Overshoot

On the front cover of his masterful book Overshoot¹ William Catton succinctly defines overshoot as ‘growth beyond an area’s carrying capacity.’  Carrying capacity, he defines as the ‘maximum permanently supportable load.’

William Catton made a coherent and irresistible case for overshoot being at the heart of our present-day environmental disasters. In attempting, via technology, to use our ingenuity and innovative powers to increase the Earth’s carrying capacity we have succeeded only in reducing it. We have way overshot the Earth’s carrying capacity, manifesting that in species extinction, climate chaos, and air, land, and sea pollution as just a few examples.

Behind the technological reasons for overshoot we can also identify another category of overshoot.

Our collective ability to innovate, invent, and fabricate systems, technology, and facilities has overshot our wisdom. What do I mean by this?

When we innovate, invent, and fabricate we ask ourselves questions such as: How can we make this happen? What resources do we need for this?

These are questions that call on our intelligence and our knowledge. These questions are framed within paradigms of progress and human exceptionalism.

They are not questions that ask us to reflect upon the consequences of our innovations, inventions, and fabrications.

They are not questions that call upon our wisdom.

Wisdom would ask, in each and every case: Should we do this?

There are innumerable instances in our past where we have not asked this question, or if we have, have ignored the answers. In just the past 200 years, we have failed to ask such a question of innovations such as: the internal combustion engine, atomic fission, weapons development, artificial intelligence, mobile phone systems, monocultural agriculture, “green” energy, the private automobile, …

Yet, if we were to honestly and robustly look into the outcomes of each of these, we would find disastrous effects and results.

Towards the end of his book, William Catton asks: ‘What must we avoid doing to keep from making a bad situation unnecessarily worse?’

His question has to be answered with – avoid our desire to continuously innovate, invent, and fabricate.

In the place of these we must give greater emphasis upon wisdom and the willingness to seriously consider the consequences of our actions, not just for ourselves, but primarily for future generations. Furthermore, within those future generations must be included birds, fish, mammals, insects, trees, fungi, ferns, rivers, mountains, sierras, and all the other phenomena that go together to make up the natural world.

We cannot afford for our intelligence to continually overshoot our carrying capacity of wisdom.

Notes

1. William R Catton, Jr., Overshoot, University of Illinois Press, Urbana & Chicago, 1982

Magic Wand

At the end of his interviews with guests, one of my favourite podcasters¹ asks of them each the same question: ‘If you could wave a magic wand and there was no personal recourse to your decision, what is one thing you would do to improve human and planetary futures?’

As I listen to his guests’ replies I sometimes wonder how I would answer that question.

I’ve come up with an answer.

Get rid of mobile phones. And all the surrounding paraphernalia that goes with them.

The label phone is out-of-date these days. For sure, the very first ones were phones, but nowadays they are also, inter alia; a camera, a news service, a video recorder, an entertainment centre (movies and music for example), a dictionary and encyclopedia, a calculator, a calendar and appointments diary, and ….

Getting rid of mobile phones, to my mind, could significantly improve human and planetary futures. Consider a few of the issues that would derive from a world without mobile phones.

There would be less anxiety and depression in the world. Research indicates that mobile phone use can become addictive (it even has a name – nomophobia) which in turn leads to greater levels of anxiety and depression.

Excessive use of mobile phones has been shown to result in eye swelling and other eyesight problems.

The “blue” light of mobile phones interferes with the ability to fall asleep and increases the chances of insomnia.

Many people use earplugs with their mobile phones. Excessive use of these has been shown to cause ear problems.

Ironically, since phones are supposed to be communication devices, mobile phone use leads to less communication between people. In turn this leads to greater levels of social isolation.

Cyberbullying is a term that has had to be invented to describe the bullying that becomes possible with mobile phones and other electronic media. A Headspace² survey in Australia in 2019 found that well over 50% of young Australians experienced cyberbullying.

Mobile phone use contributes to less physical activity, resulting in a number of health issues.

There is some (albeit inconclusive) research indicating a connection between mobile phone use and cancer.

The use of mobile phones whilst driving increases the risk of an accident by four times.

More than 5.3 billion (yes – billion) mobile phones were thrown away in 2022. Stacked flat these would form a pile that would rise 1/8^th of the way to the moon – further out into space than the orbit of the International Space Station.

Mobile phones get replaced once every 18 months, on average globally. Only 12.5% of these are recycled to some extent.

E-waste (of which mobile phones are a significant quantity) contribute 70% of all global toxic waste. 80% of the e-waste produce in the US gets exported to Asia, where workers (many of them children) get exposed to the toxic fumes when the waste is burnt following the extraction of the precious metals.

Between 400 litres and 2 million litres of water is required to produce just 1 kg of lithium, and essential mineral in making mobile phones. And that is just one of the many minerals required.

Having a mobile phone continuously at hand dumbs us down. The convenience of looking up information requires much less thinking than does undertaking honest and sincere fact finding. Those that would manipulate our minds know this well, and hence we become exposed to false news, misinformation, and downright lies.

What if mobile phones did disappear? Would that improve human and planetary futures? Maybe.

The mental health of young people might improve, or at least not get worse.

Our sense of community might return.

We might find a renaissance in the pleasures of one-to-one conversation and the return of the art of letter writing.

The Earth would be less exploited and may be able to cope better with the amount of waste we produce.

The health of workers in Asia (and elsewhere) might increase.

We might start to enjoy simple pleasures of outdoor activity again.

Does anyone have a magic wand?

Notes

1. Nate Hagens, https://www.thegreatsimplification.com/

2. Headspace is a non-profit organisation dealing with the health and wellbeing of young people in Australia.

Voting: Same As It Ever Was

Where I live has recently had elections for its city council. People have voted for one mayor and eight Councillors. The people have spoken. Or have they?

These nine members of the Council will be making decisions for the almost 80,000 people that live within the city’s boundaries.

They will be doing that in their first week.

But, here’s the rub. There will be 156 weeks of decision making before the next election. It will be the same nine people in the first week as it will be in the final week. The same nine!

Yet, we call this representative democracy.

It is one of the biggest falsehoods we tell ourselves. It defies reason to suggest that the word “representative” can be applied to a system whereby 0.01% of the people in an area make decisions for the other 99.99%, every week for 156 weeks (3 years) on end.

The pattern gets repeated in the more than 500 districts in this country. The pattern is repeated in other so-called representative democracy countries throughout the world.

But, here’s a further rub. At the end of that 3-year term (or whatever length it is) many of those nine will put themselves up for election again. And most will get re-elected. Representation from the 99.99% is highly unlikely.

If the word democratic comes from the Greek word meaning common people, and the word representative derives from the Latin word for to show, exhibit, set in view, then our modern concept of representative democracy is a cover-up of its essential meaning – to set the common people in view. And what is a cover-up? A sham.

Let us be honest. Let us name it for what it truly is. Representative democracy is a sham.

So, what then?

Winston Churchill is reputed to have said that ‘democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others that have been tried.’ Perhaps Churchill had not studied in depth the democracy of ancient Athens.

Ancient Athens used a system that selected their decision-makers via sortition – essentially by lot. Thus, the chances of anyone (whether from the 0.01% of the population or from the 99.99%) had an equal chance of being selected. Plus, having been selected once did not give that person a greater chance of being selected next time.

I will not cover sortition any further here. I have written extensively about sortition in this blog. In the topics section on the right side of this blog can be found the entry “Sortition” Clicking on that will show numerous items.

‘But, but,’ I can hear the objections. “But, we need the best to represent us. Voting is the best way to get the best representatives.”

We must ask: what is best? Who are the best? The best decision-makers? If getting the best decision-makers is our objective then surely, voting is not going to do that. Unless. Unless the best decision-makers are the voters. Citizens must be the best decision-makers if it is they who we trust to make the best decision (via voting) as to who are to be the representatives. So, why not simply trust citizens right from the start and do away with voting altogether.

Sortition is simple and a lot more representative.

Women Who Run With The Wolves: A male reading

Occasionally within a group of men I hear the plea of ‘I don’t understand women.’ Sometimes plaintive, sometimes angry, and just about always perplexed.

Reading Women Who Run With The Wolves¹ may help. But, before I suggest how, there are a couple of caveats.

Caveat 1: The desire to understand is complicit in the not understanding. To understand means to fully grasp the meaning, significance, or nature of something. It means to be able to explain it and categorise it. Understanding is inherently a mechanistic perception. Women (and men for that matter) do not conform to such classifications. The desire to understand is (if I may be so bold) a male notion.

Caveat 2: Because of caveat 1 there are no answers, for men, to the appeal to understand women. Hence, this book can help but it cannot answer.

Having outlined these two caveats, let me delve into (at least some of) the book through a male reading. Although the book is now more than thirty years old, and although I have come across reference to it dozens of times during those 30 years, I have only recently read it.

Men – do not be put off by the title. It can look as though Clarissa Pinkola Estés intends the book solely for women; much of its contents apply to men also.

Clarissa Pinkola Estés is a storyteller and tells stories in groups and gatherings in many parts of the world. In this book she recounts numerous stories from various regions of the world. These stories are mythological and the characters in them are archetypes. This is important to note. The characters point to parts of our internal psyche, they are not identifiable people in our outer world. Furthermore, our internal psyche is shaped, in part, by cultural archetypes.

Clarissa Pinkola Estés explores these archetypes, dismantles them, pulls them apart, and then gently puts them all back together again. Her insight in doing so is extraordinary.

Let us return to the plea that began this blog – men unable to understand women.

As I read through Women Who Run With The Wolves one thing is very clearly articulated. Women contain at least two natures, and most likely, many more. Men do too, by the way, and I will come back to this later. But first – the dual nature of women.

As well as being an author, Clarissa Pinkola Estés is a Jungian psychologist, and as such alludes to the Jungian concept of animus. She defines animus as a woman’s ‘internal masculine energy’ and notes that, ‘This psychic figure is particularly valuable because it is invested with qualities which are traditionally bred out of women, aggression being one of the more common.’

Her aim in narrating and examining these stories is to enable women to discover and connect with their inner beings (archetypes) particularly the archetype of the Wild Woman (the wolf.) For the male reader, this aspect of women’s psyche may be hard to appreciate. Even the thought of a wild woman is dangerous, and even frightening. It is there though, and Esté suggests it is present in all women.

In her book Esté does not refer to the other Jungian concept of anima – a man’s internal feminine energy. Yet, reading Women Who Run With The Wolves from a male perspective, this concept is always present. Indeed, within many of the stories it is possible to glimpse the anima.

Women’s animus is an inner energy, and unless overtly displayed, remains hidden in our patriarchal society. As such, it can also be hidden from their male partners who wish to understand women.

There is one story in the book that is worth considering a little further, as it is a story that addresses exactly these matters. The story is called Manawee and is of African-American origin.

In the story Manawee is keen to court twin sisters. The father of the twins will only allow Manawee to do so if Manawee can guess the names of his daughters. Manawee tries and tries, but always fails. He goes away. Later he returns to try guessing again, this time bringing his little dog with him. Again he fails, and again he skulks off home. But his dog goes back to the sister’s hut and overhears the two of them talking about Manawee and calling each other by their names.

The little dog runs off to tell Manawee. On the way he smells a juicy bone and goes searching for it and chews it up. By the time he has finished he has forgotten the twins names. The dog goes back again, and from outside again hears the sisters’ names. He runs off again, and again is waylaid by the sumptuous smell of nutmeg. He forgets the names again and goes back to sleep at Manawee’s hut for the night.

The next morning, the little dog trots off to the sister’s hut and spies them getting ready to be wed. “Oh no!” he thinks, “I have to tell Manawee their names.” He hears their names and this time, even though accosted by a nasty stranger, he doggedly returns to Manawee and tells him the names of the twins. Manawee sprints off to the village where the twins and their father live. He tells the father their true names. The father blesses the marriage, and the twins tell Manawee that they have been waiting for him for a long time.

There is much archetypically in this story. Let me mention just a couple briefly.

·       The twin daughters refer to the dualism within women. In this story, one twin exemplifies the outer woman, the other the inner energy. Manawee is not marrying two women but is marrying ‘one who lives in the topside world, one who lives in the world not so easily seen,’ as Esté expresses it. He must accept both (i.e. be able to name each of them) before he can be wed. (Remember, the twins are archetypes. The story is not to be read as referring to polygamy.)

·       The little dog is what Esté calls Manawee’s dog nature. The little dog shows that Manawee (and all men) have a dual nature: Esté tells it thus: ‘His human nature, while sweet and loving, is not enough to win the courtship. It is his dog nature, his instinctual nature, that has the ability to creep near the wildish women and with his keen listening hear their names.’

Dogs, as we know, have a keen sense of sight, smell, and hearing. With that in mind, the little dog in this story is the perfect archetype for Manawee’s instinctual nature.

Thus, for men who bemoan being unable to understand women, there are some valuable lessons in Women Who Run With The Wolves.

The first lesson is to recognise that women have a dual nature. Perhaps more importantly, it is to recognise that men do also.

The second lesson is to let go the desire to understand. Instead, men must access their dog nature and learn to listen. Not just hear, but truly, deeply listen, and not be distracted from that attention.

Reading the book reveals many other lessons. Any man who wishes to discover them is recommended to read this important book.

Notes:

1. Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With The Wolves: Contacting the Power of the Wild Woman, Rider, London, Sydney, Auckland, Johannesburg, 1992.

Going With The Flow

Every so often we might be given the advice to ‘just go with the flow.’ 

How useful is this counsel?

As is, the analogy is only partially complete. It must be extended. ‘Going with the flow’ could suggest a ‘she’s right’, laissez faire, casual, or lackadaisical approach to life.

It can even be interpreted as advocating fatalism.

A kayaker will tell you otherwise.

A kayaker knows the principle of going with the flow well. It is far easier to use the flow of a river to your advantage than it is to battle against the current.  However, the kayaker is not inactive in this endeavour. If the kayak is not actively kept in the flow of the current then the kayak can very easily end up sidelong to the flow, often resulting in the kayaker going for a swim (unless they are adept at the Eskimo Roll technique) or the kayak getting smashed into rocks.

Often an inexperienced kayaker, when first encountering rapids, will stop paddling.  They then find that the river has taken control, forced them sideways and suddenly they are upside down. An experienced kayaker, however, when entering a section of rapids, will maintain their paddle stroke, sometimes even upping the tempo. They know that by maintaining the momentum of the kayak they can remain upright and in the flow of the river.

When a kayaker enters a river, they usually have a goal of some sort. It may be getting to a point further down the river. Although a kayaker has this future goal, they must bring themselves to the present moment in the flow of the river and be aware of their paddle technique and body posture. They need to watch out for the tell-tale signs of rocks, look out for eddies and check the actions and manoeuvres of any other kayakers around them. They may have goals, but to get to them they must concentrate on the flow they are in at the present time. There is no sitting back and just drifting, that would have them upside down or smashed against a rock before going too far.

A kayaker uses the flow, they don’t allow it to use them, nor do they try to control the flow.

This extended analogy has application in our own lives. To remain with the flow we must give up one of our most cherished yearnings – the yearning for control. We must learn to use the flow. We must learn techniques to remain upright and not get smashed against the rocks. We must be on the alert for whirlpools, eddies, cataracts, and other potential dangers.

Occasionally we will get caught up in these eddies, whirlpools, or cataracts.  Fighting these, any kayaker will tell you, spells disaster.

Eddies, whirlpools, and cataracts may turn out to be signs that we need to slow down, be more alert, move to another part of the river, or maybe even get off the river and portage around a particularly nasty obstacle.

When we do get ‘in the flow’ we find a sense of freedom, a sense that everything is just right, that we don’t have to expend too much energy.  When we get those feelings then we can be assured that we may be on the right track, that what we are doing is correct, appropriate and effective.

 

 

No Answers Are Better Than Simplistic Answers

What is the answer to the question of life?

There are no answers to that question. Or, if there is an answer, then the answer is in the question itself.

If there are no answers, then does that mean there are no questions?

Not at all. There are many questions. There are probably more questions than there are grains of sand on a beach.

It is the question that is important, not the answer.

Albert Einstein, one of the foremost questioners of our time, made this clear when he advised; ‘Don’t listen to the person who has the answers, listen to the person who has the questions.’

Our world is huge. Our galaxy is enormous. Our cosmos is vast. Coming up with answers for just our world minimises and constricts our sense of wonder, let alone our galaxy and the cosmos.

Answers contain, enclose, and limit us. Questions open up, expand, and amplify our appreciation and awe.

Questioning in Turbulent Times

It is difficult to claim anything but that we are living in turbulent times. Environmentally we are witnessing cascading disasters – e.g. species extinction, turbulent weather systems, toxic waste pollution … Socially our political systems are increasingly polarising people. Wars seem continuous, shifting from one geopolitical hot-spot to another every few years. Individually we are suffering more and more from anxiety, depression, obesity, isolation, and bullying. All these examples are only a few of the plethora of examples that could be given.

In the various conversations around this topic can be heard the optimistic contention that when people are faced with increased severity and personal harm from disaster that they will ask questions of the systems from within which the problems emerge.

However, history and psychology suggest that instead of people asking questions around these plights, most often simplistic answers are sought instead.

And, where do we find simplistic answers? Amongst the socio-political extremes; where to question is out-of-the-question (if you’ll excuse the quip.)

This, in turn, leads to greater polarisation. Then, sadly, the answers proclaimed by each side morph into righteousness. One side claims to have the right answers and that the other side has the wrong answers. Of course, the other side claims the exact opposite.

In the ensuing shouting match, the ability to question gets tossed aside.

All this leads inevitably to …

… greater turbulence.

What can we do in the face of all this?

Keep questioning, especially questions that open our eyes, ears, and hearts to the wonder and mystery of the cosmos and our world. Yet, understand too, that each question only leads to further questions, not to simplistic answers.