Dave Pollard's environmental philosophy, creative works, business papers and essays.
In search of a better way to live and make a living, and a better understanding of how the world really works.



August 29, 2010

Brief Notes on David Abram’s “Becoming Animal”

Filed under: _ Uncategorized — Dave Pollard @ 21:47

baraka

image from the film Baraka

I‘ve just finished Abram’s follow-up to his Spell of the Sensuous. The earlier book is one of the most important I have ever read, and didn’t feel the new book, Becoming Animal, added a lot to the earlier message. But here for the record are my marginal annotations as I worked through it:

  • I liked his term for what Joanna Macy calls the healing and self-healing Work That Reconnects — it’s recuperation. We all need to do this heart-and-soul work if we are to be able to contribute effectively to the marathon transition humanity is now starting to make to a new post-civilization society.
  • Amazing description of the sound of a flock of ducks flying overhead into a fierce headwind: “What had sounded like a single repeated utterance now varies subtly in rhythm and volume according to whether the duck speaking is testing the wind with its muscles or simply holding the status quo. Each voice alters its feel when the speaker is blown off course by the gusts, each duck using its quacks to inform the others about the state of the blast just in front of it while also apprising them of its precise location at that moment (since they’re unable to glance around without ceding ground to the wind), each also replying and reassuring the others, so that a whole array of nuanced meanings is passing back and forth above me.”
  • The contrast he draws between humans who normally, when they think, temporarily take their consciousness into their heads and out of their bodies, and “other animals, in a constant and mostly unmediated relation with their sensory surroundings, [who] think with the whole of their bodies.”
  • An interesting listing of the 9 ways oral cultures differ from our modern “written language” culture:
    1. oral awareness is more informed by place, more local in its orientation
    2. the act of perception is more of a two-way communication
    3. each entity in the place of which one is a part is ascribed its own active agency in the world
    4. all things are seen as expressive, intentional
    5. oral cultures are more aware of their lack of knowledge, of the uncertainty and mystery of everything
    6. the world is articulated as a story rather than as an organized collection of data; it is “verb-al” rather than “noun-al”
    7. time is circle and rhythm and cycle, rather than rectilinear and vectored
    8. the world is the product of its collective imagination, with everything a player in the dream of its creation, fluid rather than static or conceptual
    9. there is an acceptance that we cannot ever perceive of the world the way any other human or creature does; within the a-part-ness of our individual lives there is a pluralism, a collective appreciation of the difference and uniqueness of each entity
  • The final passage of the book speaks powerfully again of the grief we all feel for gaia, the collective organism of all-life-on-earth. It is written as prose but works better, I think, in more poetic form (somewhat condensed by me):


Tonight is the winter solstice, the dark of the year.
Too many species have slid into extinction, too many forests felled
and wetlands filled;
so much beauty’s fled the world.
Life’s become cheap: with more and more of us piling in,
humans keep bashing each other in ever more creative ways –
car bombs bursting bodies
and missiles dropped from unmanned drones
splintering families, searing the land
and spattering it with blood.

An addled and anesthetized numbness
is spreading rapidly throughout our species.

There are those, however, who are not frightened of grief;
dropping deep into the sorrow, they find therein
a necessary elixir to the numbness.
When they encounter one another,
when they press their foreheads against the bark
of a centuries-old tree,
or their palms into the hand of yet another child
who has tasted prematurely of wrenching loss,
their eyes well with tears
that fall easily to the ground.

The soil needs this water. Grief is but a gate
and our tears a kind of key
opening a place of wonder that’s been locked away.
Suddenly we notice the sustaining resonance
between the drumming heart within our chest
and the pulse rising from under the ground.

The stars glimmer in the solstice dark, their faint light
mirrored in glints off the crusted snow.
Far below these blanketed fields, deep beneath the bedrock
a lustrous power slumbers, fitfully,
like a bear in its cave.

As this power sleeps, it dreams, pulsing,
its vigor radiating outward in waves,
through the slow solidity of rock,
through thickets of feldspar and quartzite and stratified soils,
outward through stems of dandelions and trunks of sequoias,
through blossoms and budded leaves
and through the craft of our fingers,
through the gleam in your lover’s eye

and the fluted music
upwelling now from the beak
of a blackbird.

August 28, 2010

Consent vs Coercion

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 01:09

I recently had the pleasure of attending a presentation by Betty Martin on how we often allow ourselves to be coerced into something in the mistaken assumption it is consensual, and how we often misconstrue something we do to another person as something we do for them, effectively getting the giver and receiver precisely backwards. She presented a brilliant model of the power politics of personal relationships (including sexual politics) that can be generalized to represent the power politics of all relationships. Here’s the basic model:

consent vs coercion

The idea is that in any transaction in a relationship there is a giver and a receiver, and someone doing and someone being done to, but the giver and person doing are not necessarily the same person. When they are the same person, the giver/doer is a server, and the receiver/being done to is an accepter. When they are not the same person, the doer is a taker and the person being done to is an allower, but in this case it is really the allower who is giving (the gift of consent, or more) to the taker.

All of these relationships can be consensual. When I give someone a massage, I am the server (giver/doer) and the person getting the massage is an accepter (receiver/being done to). But when I steal a kiss without asking, I am the taker (receiver/doer) and the person I kiss is an allower (giver/being done to). My action, her gift. Provided it is consensual. It is possible to simultaneously or alternatively serve and accept, or take and allow. The green area in the chart is therefore called the Circle of Consent.

When any of these actions is not consensual (i.e. is coercive), the roles are actually different, as shown in the red area in the chart. If I am giving something and doing something to someone without their consent, I am a pusher and the person I’m pushing to is an addict. If I’m doing this against my own will, I am a martyr. Likewise, if I take something against another person’s will, I am a thief, or an assaulter, and the person I am doing it to is a victim, unwillingly giving to me. In a pathologically co-dependent relationship, it is possible to be simultaneously or alternatively pusher (or martyr) and addict, or thief and victim.

The challenge is to identify when what appears to be consensual (inside the green circle) is in fact coercive, when either one party or both parties misinterpret it (or pathologically try to portray it, to the other person or in their own mind) as consensual. The edge of the circle can be fuzzy, and may not be symmetrical. When there is clarity between both parties on who is doing, who is giving, and whether or not it is consensual, then the relationship is healthy and reciprocal. Without that clarity, it may not be.

Example: Two hours of non-stop oral sex, taking turns five minutes at a time, might appear to partner A to be a consensual and pleasurable alternating server/accepter transaction, but to partner B might seem to be a tedious martyrdom to partner A’s sexual addiction. Likewise, partner C’s recurring declarations of love for partner D, with the expectation of a reciprocal declaration or more, might seem to partner C to be an ideal reciprocal server/accepter transaction, but to partner D might seem obsessive and forced, to the point the reciprocal declaration or other expectation causes them to feel the relationship is a martyr/addict one. And partner E’s high expectations (say, for sex, or financial or emotional support, or unsolicited gifts) from partner F might allow thief/assaulter/victim or martyr/addict transactions to be perceived, by either partner E or F, or even both, as transactions within the Circle of Consent when they are not.

As useful as this model might appear, it requires the parties in a relationship to have a high level of emotional intelligence, courage, empathy, self-knowledge and self-awareness, to use it effectively. Those in coercive relationships are often in denial, or ignorant of what is going on, and even if they realize that someone’s behaviour is not consensual, they may not be able or prepared to change that behaviour if the emotional or other rewards of coercion are high.

As I studied this model I came to appreciate that it applies not just to personal relationships but to all kinds of economic, social and political relationships. Most business transactions are, ostensibly, two-way reciprocal server/accepter transactions: the seller is the server and the buyer the accepter of goods or services, and then the buyer is the server and the seller the accepter of money in return. Those in the gift economy trust that reciprocity will occur, eventually, without the need of money as immediate enforcer of that reciprocity.

But many people in volunteer and non-profit work burn out because what began as service evolves into martyrdom. Many businesses use additives to their products, oligopoly, and advertising, to push their customers into dependent relationships and even addiction. Employees allow employers to dictate and take a lot from them (control of their lives, how long they work, even where they live) because the reciprocal gift of job security seems fair, but often that security is illusory and employees become victimized wage slaves.

At a more global scale, the poor, the sick, struggling nations, farmed animals, the natural environment and future generations are all systematically victimized by war, theft, desolation, deprivation and other abuses by the rich, the powerful, war-mongering imperial nations, corporatists, polluters and greedy, thoughtless and idealistic short-termists. In many cases these thieves, assaulters and abusers genuinely thought they were engaged in consensual, reciprocal win-win taker/allower transactions. The mainstream media, for reasons that are complex, frequently encourage that misconception.

This is a fascinating model at all levels of application. But it suffers the same shortcomings of utility when applied at the larger social, political and economic level as it does when applied to personal relationships. It requires enormous honesty, courage, self-knowledge and self-awareness for people to get past denial of the coercive and destructive nature of the systems that industrial society has built, and which sustain us, for now, at our current level of economic prosperity. We mostly don’t know of and can’t imagine another, more consensual system, one based on fairness, reciprocity, openness, sustainability, responsibility, generosity and long-term thinking. Because modern corporations are inherently psychopathic, and because the existing systems are so global, endemic and entrenched, creating a level playing field where new systems could come to prevail is almost inconceivable.

Nevertheless, this model is a powerful way to think about power politics at every level, from personal relationships to global corporatism. It is a common framework that could be used to portray the perceived realities of relationships and transactions, in a way that can lead, eventually, to understanding, appreciation, and remediation of coercion. If only we’re all smart enough, and aware enough, to use it.

August 24, 2010

Dream for Generations

Filed under: Preparing for Civilization's End — Dave Pollard @ 00:12

sunset-jun19-2010

In my dream, there are forty of us, gathered together, holding hands in a large circle. As a noted guest of the group, I am asked to say a few words before… I am not sure what — a meal, a conference, a departure? This is what I say:

Thank you to the organizers for your invitation, your welcome, for bringing us together.

As I look around this circle, I am struck by the fact that most of us here were around when the song The Times They Are a-Changin’ that we sang a few moments ago, was first written. We sang these words when we were preparing to shake the windows and rattle the walls, to end the war and usher in a better way to live:

Come mothers and fathers throughout the land
And don’t criticize what you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin’.
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’.

And as I look at us, now mostly grey-haired and rapidly agin’ ourselves, I wonder: Where are the voices of anger and protest and determination of those who are now the age we were then? Why are those in their teens, twenties and thirties not angry, not protesting, not pledging to smash the system that is desolating our world and pushing our fragile civilization to the brink of collapse and precipitating the sixth great extinction of life on Earth? Are they just uninformed? Too busy struggling with their own needs of the moment? Hope-less that change is possible, or that they can precipitate it? Complacent that someone else will solve the problems for them, and do so in time? When will they be ready to fight the exhausting fight that we are still leading after all these years?

John Gray, in his astonishing book Straw Dogs, tells us that our idealism was understandable but misplaced. He writes:

We can dream of a world in which a greatly reduced human population lives in a partially restored paradise; in which farming has been abandoned and green deserts given back to the earth; where the remaining humans are settled in cities, emulating the noble idleness of hunter-gatherers, their needs met by new technologies that leave little mark on the Earth; where life is given over to curiosity, pleasure and play. There is nothing technically impossible about such a world…A High-tech Green utopia, in which a few humans live happily in balance with the rest of life, is scientifically feasible; but it is humanly unimaginable. If anything like this ever comes about, it will not be through the will of homo rapiens

Homo rapiens is only one of very many species, and not obviously worth preserving. Later or sooner, it will become extinct. When it is gone Earth will recover. Long after the last traces of the human animal have disappeared, many of the species it is bent on destroying will still be around, along with others that have yet to spring up. The Earth will forget mankind. The play of life will go on.

On the basis of overwhelming evidence that I have examined in ten years of study of our civilization, I have come to accept that this civilization, like all those before it, will end, most likely through a Long Emergency that will consume much of this century, precipitated by a series of cascading economic, energy and ecological crises that will be beyond our capacity and resilience to survive. It will be ghastly and grim but it will be a drawn-out, generations-long descent that will be mostly peaceful, and accompanied by no more aggregate suffering than gaia, the collective organism of all-life-on-Earth, is enduring every day now, though most of us are afraid to see it because the grief of that reality, the knowledge of what is really happening in this terrible world, is just too much for us to bear. And post-civilization human society, with much smaller numbers and only rudimentary technology, holds the promise of being staggeringly diverse, exciting, responsible, connected, sustainable and joyful.

So what are we to do, we “elders” still holding the space for future generations who are strangely silent, absent, disengaged?

I would argue that our role, now, is to wait. That doesn’t mean we should do nothing. As we wait for those under 50 to take the torch from us, we should love with all our hearts, we should be generous to a fault, and we should continue to learn the truth of how the world really works, to hold a mirror of that unnatural present reality to the world, and to imagine how it might, if only in our dreams, be better.

Our role, I think, is to wait until the young are ready, because it is their fight now — they will be the ones who will have to face the darkest days and years of civilization’s slow collapse. And one day they will be ready, as ready as they can, to face that terrible truth and to do what they must. When that time comes, we must be ready to listen, to encourage, to counsel when asked, to facilitate. We must be ready to share what we know, to suggest models to help them cope and create a better way to live, to help them fight rear-guard holding actions to mitigate the worst excesses and atrocities of the industrial society we have, through our complicity and complacency and ignorance, thrust upon the world.

And beyond this, our role is to remove the obstacles to their fight, and to stay out of their way, to “get out of the new road if we can’t lend a hand”, because what we’ve shown, and done, for all our shouting and protesting for the last 40 years, is dreadful, beyond inadequate, pathetic. We have made the world, through our action and inaction, much, much worse than it was 40 years ago. It’s time we showed the humility and grace to acknowledge that failure, in our old age, and to accept responsibility for it and cede authority to those younger than we are, in the hope that they might do better.

So this is my plea, my prayer, my fervent hope, that we will stop trying to lead, stop hogging the limelight and the power and the attention of the world. Stop being preoccupied with ourselves and our own damaged egos and selfish needs. Just stop. Let go. And wait. The fourth turning is coming soon, and it’s time for us to yield, to get out of the way, to open and hold the space, to resign from authority and to contemplate and reflect self-critically on what we have done, who we are, what we owe. Listen to the young. Ask humbly how we can help them do what they think must be done. The future, dark and turbulent, is theirs. We must wait here, in the present, until they grasp it, like the string of a kite in a hurricane, and then hold them with every ounce of strength in our exhausted bodies and weary hearts.

We owe them no less.

August 2, 2010

Colonization, from Without and from Within

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 17:58

colonization

“And where will we hide, when it comes from inside?” — James Taylor

Colonization is a loaded word, depending on whether you are the colonizer or the colonized. Throughout the history of our civilization, colonizers (imperialists, conquistadors, missionaries and, most recently, globalization corporatists) have asserted that colonized people were “savages” who needed external rule imposed on them “for their own good”. It matters little whether such assertions were honest, well-intentioned and misguided, or blatant excuses for theft, murder and oppression. The whole world is now substantially a single homogeneous colony, a single culture imposed and enforced by political and media propaganda, economic coercion, and of course, brute force.

The world “colonize” is from the Latin (whose speakers were accomplished at it) meaning “to inhabit, settle, farm and cultivate”. This definition carries no pretense of doing anything for the benefit of the “colonized” peoples. It just means taking over the land and resources, with or without violence and displacement. The words “culture” and “cultivate” also referred strictly to farming activities until, a mere two centuries ago, their meaning was expanded to include the intellectual, political, economic and social activities of civilization.

Such is the malleability of the human mind and conscience, that colonization occurs, to a greater or lesser extent, at four different levels, and the fact that the more interior forms of colonization are less obvious and often sub-conscious merely makes them, and their effect, more insidious. The four levels, depicted in the chart above, are, reading from the outside-in:

  1. External colonization — where people from one land move into and colonize another land (e.g. various recent invasions of Afghanistan; NAFTA)
  2. Internal colonization — where a dominant culture undermines and exterminates another culture within the same area (e.g. the ongoing brutality that the dominant European culture subjects indigenous peoples to, worldwide)
  3. Self-colonization — where a group of people undermines and exterminates diversity within their own culture (e.g. McCarthyism, groupthink and hazing)
  4. Personal colonization — where an individual molds her/himself to better fit in with her/his group and/or culture

External colonization historically occurred when there was insufficient land to sustain a group. Boundaries were tested, and, in Darwinian fashion, the conflict was resolved in favour of the “fittest” — not the strongest, necessarily, but the group that could best “fit” themselves to the types of food and the carrying capacity of the disputed land. Most such conflicts were won by the incumbents, since they “knew” the land better, and since an easier solution for the invading group would be to manage their own numbers to adapt to the carrying capacity of the land they already were familiar with. The same is true for most wild species — it is in the best interests of all-life-on-Earth to avoid massive conflicts and instability, while introducing new variations that, in some cases, will improve “fitness” and resilience, even though they may create a temporary disequilibrium. Resilience is optimized by diversity, which is why, in the absence of catastrophe, evolution tends towards greater complexity and variety of life forms and “cultures”.

Sometimes, however, there are major natural catastrophes that produce sudden changes and extinctions, that may take a long time to find equilibrium again. The fifth great extinction, 65 million years ago, was the result of a massive meteor collision with Earth, which extinguished most of the life-forms on our planet and made possible the emergence of our weak and ill-equipped (relative to the dinosaurs) species. Then, some other unknown event about a million or so years ago knocked the Earth slightly off its axis and precipitated the Ice Ages. Our species’ (brilliant) response to this catastrophe was to invent hunting tools (the invention of the arrowhead and spear marked the dawn of the sixth great extinction), agriculture and civilization. And with these inventions came explosive population growth and the need for colonization. This colonization was assisted (and made more violent) by the discovery that our hunting tools could also be used as weapons against our own species. As our numbers continued to explode beyond sustainable limits, violent land conflicts accelerated. And as our inventions allowed us to move much faster much more easily and learn about life elsewhere, we discovered the need for “preemptive” colonization to prevent the peoples who might resent our invasion of them, or covet our wealth, from attempting to attack us. We also learned that we could colonize without physically occupying the land of the colonized — we could colonize economically or (with nukes or drones) militarily.

With the growth of civilization, colonization became the major economic activity of our species, and it has remained so ever since. But now that we’ve run out of new places to colonize (and space will, despite the dreams of the technophiles, never be colonized by our species, though the bacteria are likely to succeed at it). And, while we continue to recolonize areas that refuse to accept the dominant culture, we are now struggling with the challenge of dealing with the colonized survivors who cannot or will not “fit” into our culture. A popular solution to this challenge has been to exterminate them, and the number of languages disappearing every year on our planet attests to our success at this solution. Physically non-violent attempts at internal colonization, however, have been less successful. As convenient as it may be to blame indigenous peoples for the high rates of suicide, substance addiction, violent crime and unemployment in many of their internal communities and in our cities, these are all artifacts of internal colonization, the failed attempt to force people to adapt to a culture that is not, and can never be, theirs.

The way in which our civilization culture maintains internal order is through the exploitation of self-colonization. With the advent of language, and hence the ability to propagandize through control of the education systems and media, we can effectively allow groups to colonize themselves, to force their members to conform or be socially, politically, legally and/or economically ostracized. At this level it is no longer land that is the battleground of colonization, it is the real estate of the mind.

Despite my liberal upbringing, and being encouraged to think for myself, I was co-opted early (though uneasily) into participating as part of the political, social, legal, educational, technological, business and economic systems of my colony of civilization. It was not “the government” that co-opted me, not some conspiratorial clique or elite. It was the people all around me, the people in the groups I was born into and accepted myself as part of. I really believed that we had to work “within the system” to bring about change. I really believed that the forces that are leading our world to economic, energy and ecological collapse, could be reformed, changed, fixed, and that “together we could do anything”. I really believed that I, as a part of some imaginary “we”, could save the world. Everyone told me so. Everyone told me, when I was overcome by the darkness of depression, that I needed to pull myself out of it and get back to my responsibility to my communities, my society. There was a clear though tacit communication that if I were too radical, if I did not conform, or if I did not live up to my responsibilities, and let down the groups to which I accepted I belonged to, there would be dire consequences.

For the most part, this relentless peer pressure “to be part of the solution”, to accept responsibility, to work hard, to perpetrate all the nonsense about how this was the only viable way to live, was and is well-intentioned. My family and friends and co-workers and neighbours and the other people in my communities genuinely wanted me to succeed, to be happy, to be a part of them. I just needed to accept the terms of doing so. Self-colonization. Seven billion of us, all believing and doing what we’re told. Not by The Man. By the people we love, and trust. For our own good. Trust us, we know what’s best for you. You’ll never be able to get along with people, or get anything useful accomplished, if you think/talk/act like that. Get with the program.

So as I have had the opportunity to become more radical, as I have moved further and further to the edge, I have had to fight self-colonization every step of the way. When I acknowledged on this blog, after reading John Gray’s Straw Dogs, that I no longer believed it was possible to save our civilization, and that I now believed that civilization would collapse in this century, the fallout was enormous. I was labeled a “doomer” and much worse. Many readers assailed me for having “let us all down”. My readership is a fraction of what it was when I was spouting forth about the importance of knowledge management and the process of innovation and extolling happy green ideas. Each move further to the edge has been harder, and led to more push-back, expressions of anger and disappointment, pleas to “come to my senses”, and even threats. Poly, veganism, doing nothing. How dare I? Such sacrilegious talk is too radical, defeatist, “anti-social”. Even harder to take, my arguments are assailed as intellectually flawed, idealistic babble, positions that “wouldn’t survive logical scrutiny”. I was condemned as “unhelpful”. I was told what I was saying was just wrong. Dangerous to the integrity, energy and productivity of the group.  I must be tempered, brought back into the fold, or shunned.

This is where the Borg metaphor fails. The most powerful and persuasive propaganda, the most debilitating constraint, the most compelling and dangerous instruction — comes not from the top or the centre. It comes from our peers.

And finally there is personal colonization, that works integrally with the other three forms. It is the most insidious of all, because it is entirely within us. It is a part of who we are. It is the accumulation of gunk that we have acquired over a lifetime of accepting what we’ve been told, and wanted to believe. It is the self-inflicted propaganda of our own stories about who we are, about our place, about our popularity and loveability and where we belong. It is the terrible fear of being alone. It is the little voice that says “If so many people believe X, and I seemingly alone believe Y, how could I possibly be right?” Of course this is the same voice that allowed Germans to do nothing to stop Hitler’s atrocities. It is the same voice that allowed Stalin to kill 80 million and Mao 60 million. But it is a voice with power.

The four forms of colonization have made our civilization culture, for better and for worse, what it is. They have made it possible, and unsustainable.

And, until it blows apart, unstoppable.

Powered by WordPress