CoVid-19 and Human Incapacity to Deal With Complex Predicaments

This is the 15th in a series of articles on CoVid-19. I am not a medical expert, but have worked with epidemiologists and have some expertise in research, data analysis and statistics. I am producing these articles in the belief that reasonably researched writing on this topic can’t help but be an improvement over the firehose of misinformation that represents far too much of what is being presented on this topic in social (and some other) media.

It’s been two months since my last article on the pandemic. Since then everything has gotten significantly worse:

  • Infection and death rates have soared in the vast majority of countries, and notably in countries that already had high death tolls. Globally, new cases, daily deaths and hospitalizations are all at record levels. The relentlessly pessimistic IHME was right in their forecasts.
  • There are many new variants, and while it is clear they are more infectious (and now the dominant strains in some countries), little is known about them. The higher transmissibility means that many more are likely to fall ill, be hospitalized and die than last projected, perhaps doubling the death count from what it is currently in many jurisdictions.
  • We have showed no more competency at rolling out a vaccine to 7.8B people than we showed containing and testing for the disease. “Shambles” would not be an unfair term to use to describe the current state of vaccine distribution and inoculation in all but a handful of countries.

None of this surprises me. In our dealing with climate change, biodiversity die-off, soil depletion, chronic disease management, systemic racism, obscene inequality, the financial and debt bubbles, forest stewardship, and a host of other modern, complex predicaments, our collective response has been, to any objective observer, staggeringly inept.

No one is to blame for that, as much as we’d love to assign it. The reality is that no species is competent at addressing complex predicaments — there are too many moving parts and variables, and no mechanism for coordinated decision-making and action beyond the smallest, local level. That’s why nature, over the past 4.5B years, has evolved life to respond instinctively and locally, not rationally and globally, to crises. And accordingly, life has evolved through many near-extinction events much graver than a human pandemic for that entire 4.5B years, remarkably successfully. It is sheer hubris to suggest that our newcomer human species can ever hope to approach that level of competence. But, it appears from our political and economic evolution, hubris is just about all we have to go on.

For different reasons, Australia, New Zealand and Taiwan, uniquely, have weathered the pandemic largely unscathed and are likely to continue to do so. They have used a radical approach called Go For Zero. It’s extremely effective if applied when the caseload is not already out of control, when it’s applied rigorously and when the government and citizens both follow it. It becomes much harder, but not impossible, when this is not the case. Once again, here are the nine elements of this strategy:

  1. Make zero cases the explicit goal for the country/state, and implement a specific, public plan to achieve that goal.
  2. That plan will likely include a complete lockdown for all ages until the number of reported new cases has been reduced to approximately 3 per day per million people. [Current level in the US is 500/day/M; in Canada it’s 120/day/M, but it was about 10/day/M for much of the summer before the recent surge]. Once the 3/day/M level has been achieved, certain specific low-risk, high-benefit activities can be permitted and encouraged. Additional easing can be permitted once new cases drop to 1/day/M people, and considerable further easing once zero new cases have been reported for a week.
  3. Everyone entering the country must be tested at the border and/or strictly quarantined for 14 days or until a negative test is confirmed.
  4. Stringent, properly staffed contact tracing and isolation must be in place for any cases that do arise. Non-cooperation and lying about exposure should be prosecutable. Lives depend on it.
  5. Testing must be easily and universally accessible for free, and test results must be able to be produced and communicated within 24 hours. The technology to do this exists; the capacity in most jurisdictions currently does not.
  6. Testing with digital attendance record-keeping and follow-up must be instituted in all public venues (restaurants, arenas etc). [Australia’s success means that up to 35,000 people can now attend stadium events with zero resulting cases.]
  7. Masks are mandatory in all public places in areas which have had recently-reported cases. In all other places they are optional.
  8. Economic supports for all those disadvantaged by restrictions must be available.
  9. Strict enforcement of quarantine must be maintained; no exceptions.

The eventual availability of widely-instituted vaccination has absolutely no effect on this strategy — its impact is at least 3-6 months away. The new variations mean that the importance of doing this now is even greater.

The charts above show the situation last summer in Canada: throughout June, July, and August, daily new cases were about 10/M people (about 400 new cases nationwide per day); nationwide new deaths were about 6 per day). Had the government implemented the Go For Zero strategy then, the lockdown would have lasted a few weeks and we would now be in the same situation as Australia — almost zero new cases, easy to monitor and sustain, and open arenas, restaurants and public places. (In fact, in July, Canada’s new cases/day/M was briefly lower than Australia’s.)

But we didn’t do that. We couldn’t. Regulatory authority is weak (a special emergency declaration is required to overcome Canadians’ constitutional freedom to leave and to return to Canada at their leisure), and authority is split among all the provinces, which have different political stances and bureaucracies. Advice from higher authorities (WHO, national and nearby country CDCs) was muddled, cautious, and too often simply wrong (poor and inadequate data collection, deregulated agencies, underfunded research, inexperience, unwillingness to confront incompetent and weak political leaders). And unlike Australia, we were simply incapable of learning and radically changing direction on the fly as was needed. And now we’re facing the same thing with the vaccine — overpromises, pathetically underdelivered.

In a new article, Andrew Nikiforuk describes the countless other bumbling errors that have been made so far, and says that, while it will be much harder now, with case levels in Canada 12 times higher than last summer, it is even more imperative. He also shows that Canada has been far from unique in its incompetence. Just as one example, all the evidence suggests that children with CoVid-19, many of whom are asymptomatic, are just as infectious as adults, and that homes are primary sources of disease spread; so why are we even having a debate about opening schools?

We’re at a crossroads. North American governments, looking at a brief drop in cases before the new variants drive the numbers up yet further, are inclined to continue their hapless “wait and see” approach. That decision will likely cost 200,000 more American lives and 15,000 more Canadian lives, unnecessarily. And that’s if we avoid dangerous mutations, hyper-transmissible new strains, and further delays in vaccinations.

So the dilemma now is that there’s a tendency to continue with current weak restrictions, as by the time the vaccine has finally been given to enough people to achieve herd immunity, we’ll already have lost about half the lives we might have lost had we done nothing at all. We can just shrug and say “we did our best” and set up the necessary triage spaces and freezers in parking lots around our hospitals and health care and old age institutions. It’s easy to say “we didn’t know” or blame the vaccine distributors or reckless citizens or other scapegoats. The 15,000 unnecessary additional Canadian deaths and 200,000 unnecessary additional American deaths are just collateral damage of our valiant “best efforts”.

The problem is that if there is a new, much more transmissible, or more virulent mutation, we’re only seeing the start of the carnage this evolving pandemic has created. We might get lucky. Or we might be back to square one, with a new pandemic virus that the vaccine (which was developed a year ago, before a pandemic was even declared — thats how cumbersome our approval and response systems are) doesn’t work on, or if a new variant, like the 1918 mutation, mainly affects young people, or if it is sufficiently different that those infected with the original variant have no immunity to it. That would mean death tolls at least an order of magnitude higher than what we’ve seen to date.

Such a pandemic is inevitable. If not a variant of the current virus, it will emerge sooner or later. And we show no indications that we’ll be any more prepared then than we are now.

We could eliminate the cause — banning factory farming and all the other ghastly CAFE operations, prohibiting the killing and sale of “exotic” animals for meat and medicines, and prohibiting the exploitation of the last remaining areas of wilderness whose endemic diseases we don’t know and have no resistance to. But we won’t. We can’t.

We could prepare now for a global Go For Zero strategy so when the next pandemic hits we’ll be ready like Australia, New Zealand, and Taiwan. But we won’t. We can’t.

This is not an issue of collective will, organization or collaboration. Just like we’ve caused climate change, we created this recent surge of global pandemics with good intentions, and ended up opening a pandora’s box we cannot close. That is the nature of predicaments in complex systems, and the nature of our (and probably all other) species: Predicaments cannot be rationally ‘solved’ because it is impossible to know what all their causes are, or what the impact of any interventions to try to remedy them will be. And we are incapable of acting globally: We’ll never get all 7.8B of us, or even all of our political representatives, to agree on a single narrative, strategy or plan of action. That’s not how human politics has ever worked.

That is why I say we are incompetent when it comes to dealing with the complex existential threats we face today, of which pandemics are just one, and not even the most serious. Incompetent does not mean stupid, evil, or ignorant, or some combination of these. Incompetent means we, humans, are just not up to the task. Over billions of years nature has endowed creatures with instincts, because, at the local level, they work. Nature has evolved life to adapt to changing conditions, because such changes are inevitable. Rationality and collective problem-solving, for all the inventions and technologies they have spawned, have only, in the end, created even greater problems, and predicaments that cannot be solved at all.

So it would be nice if we were to, in Canada, or globally, sooner or later, adopt a Go For Zero strategy. It could save millions of lives, and actually hurt the economy less and help the environment more.

And it would be nice if, globally, we were ban factory farming, exotic animal hunting, and the clear-cutting of our last wilderness. It would end a vast and staggering barbaric cruelty, make our diets much healthier, dramatically reduce chronic as well as infectious diseases, and help the environment.

But we won’t. We can’t. We’ve got the right idea though. If only that were enough.

Posted in How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | Comments Off on CoVid-19 and Human Incapacity to Deal With Complex Predicaments

Beauty, Sans Beholder


actors clockwise from top left: Maude Adams 1897, Cléo de Mérode 1900, Ione Bright 1912, Anicée Alvina 1968, Nastassia Kinski 1974, Adèle Exarchopoulos 2013. First three colourized by Olga at Klimbim

I‘ve often described myself as a hedonist — literally “a lover of pleasure above anything else”. The word beauty has a similar etymology — meaning “pleasing to the senses”. Both words have the sense of something we’re (for whatever reason) drawn to — the word attractive means “pulling towards”, while appealing means “pushing towards”. Somewhat surprising, then, that so many terms — pretty (from the same roots as “pratfall”), stunning, knockout etc — seem to imply that that draw is a little dangerous!

Paul Heft got me thinking about the nature of beauty and aesthetics when he sent me an article about what the author called elegance (that word’s etymology is “carefully chosen” — it’s intrinsically a term of snobbery, of caste preference, and a suggestion that, with practice and acquired taste, we can choose “better” what we find to be beautiful). While I can be awed by expensive architecture designed by ‘masters’, it just isn’t in me to consider that anything can more beautiful than the natural space that was razed to allow humans to construct it. Especially when, without a ton of costly maintenance (etym: “keep from changing”), it will quickly become the opposite of beautiful.

And people are “drawn” to what are to me some truly horrific things: expensive watches, unrestricted power, and absurdly impractical sports cars for example. Is that because they believe their possession of these things somehow makes them more beautiful? And is there such a thing, I wondered, as objective beauty? Is there anyone who doesn’t find a kitten’s purr, the song of a house finch, the warmth of the sun, or the sound of the surf, beautiful?

So I did some reading on the subject of aesthetics, particularly our human neurological responses to stimuli, and I found a very long list of attributes that tend to correlate with us calling something (a person or animal or plant, a work of art or music, a natural sight or sound, an experience, a physical place) “beautiful”:

  • pattern/repetition
  • familiarity
  • association/memory
  • complementation/composition (how the elements go together)
  • symmetry
  • chemistry/instinctual attractiveness (visceral reaction, pheromones etc)
  • differentiation/exaggeration (what stands out)
  • novelty/imagination
  • recognition
  • resolution
  • distillation (less is more)
  • concealment/mystery
  • calmness/serenity/relaxation
  • energy/passion/intensity
  • strength/fitness
  • resonance
  • provocation/stimulation/arousal
  • generativeness
  • narrative (causing you to think of a past or future or invented story)
  • contrast/juxtaposition
  • engagement/transportation/movement
  • invitation
  • vulnerability/youth (baby animals etc)
  • contour/blending
  • metaphor
  • truth/learning/understanding
  • nuance/secret/subtlety
  • salience/noticeability
  • sublimation/uplifting-ness

Any of these attributes can evoke a response that “that is beautiful”. Defining some of them in aesthetic terms is fraught, so I’ll let you provide your own interpretation of what scientists and artists mean by them. Some of them seem almost contradictory, but perhaps not: There is, for example, something in an experience that is both relaxing (opening you) and arousing (focusing you) at the same time, that is beyond what something that evokes just relaxation or just arousal can offer.

As a recent convert to the belief that everything we do is a consequence of our biological and cultural conditioning in the circumstances of the moment, I can appreciate that some things have been considered beautiful only in certain eras or in certain cultures, and not in others, while others seem to transcend time and place (hence the image above). And my sense is that most individuals’ aesthetic sensibilities change more slowly than those of the culture around them.

And while biological vs cultural conditioning is likely one ‘dimension’ of our aesthetic preferences, another is perhaps the four ways in which we ‘relate’ to things: intellectually, emotionally, sensorially, and instinctually. To me, for example, a great poem must (as Eliot insisted) provide both emotional (“transporting”) and intellectual (“fresh understanding”) pleasure. That is perhaps why IMO some of the most beautiful art and music has been crafted either over a period of time during which the artist has been in different states, or by several different artists who bring different and complementary sensibilities to the work.

Yet the attributes above could not easily be ‘tagged’ as being necessarily either biologically or culturally conditioned, or as being primarily intellectual, emotional, sensory or instinctual responses. Our perceptions and conceptions of beauty are more complex than that.

I seem to respond in a certain sympathetic way to major seventh, suspended fourth, and minor ninth chords, no matter how well disguised they are. I cannot stop myself from moving when I hear certain exotic rhythms, while the culturally more-familiar rhythms of most rock/pop music leaves me cold.

And music can move me to tears the way nothing else seems to. I loved Barber’s Adagio for Strings from the very first hearing (and have never seen any of the films featuring it, so there is no context bias to my reaction to it). But while it makes me cry it is not a cry of sadness or grief, but one of a pure appreciation of beauty. I am smiling, astonished as the movement cleverly but quite consistently transports me. To me it is uplifting, inviting, encouraging — not depressing at all.

Looking at one’s appreciation of beauty, and at the things one cannot come to appreciate despite effort and repeated attention (like, for me, opera), requires an examination of one’s prejudices. In the collage above, I just noticed that all the faces are white. What is that about?

And is our perception of beauty really all about attention? Most humans’ relentless need for attention, appreciation and reassurance is understandable in the context of our terrible, anonymous, hypercritical modern culture. And we will never appreciate something (as beautiful or not) unless we first give it our attention, which for most of us these days is in short supply. If we really paid attention to something, really looked at it until we really saw it, would we inevitably find it beautiful? I know some people who seem to see the world that way.

Is the perception (and conception) of beauty unique to the human species? It is clear that other animals have very strong preferences and appreciations, which could simply be their conditioning in the circumstances of the moment. Is our appreciation of beauty anything more complex, any deeper than that?

Perhaps our appreciation of beauty is just a value judgement, a conditioned response that falls out automatically from our incessant effort to make sense of the world and everything in it.

The over-worn cliché says that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So what if, as radical non-duality claims, that nothing makes sense, that everything is just an appearance, for no reason — that there is no beholder? If this were seen, would beauty then be seen in everything, “equally”, or would it be seen in nothing? Would it cease to have any sense, any meaning at all? Would that be liberating, or disappointing?

My sense is that it might be both. It might be seen that everything is equally wondrous, and so, in a way, equally beautiful. Humans are the only creatures that strive to ‘have’ beautiful things and to make themselves appear more beautiful. Giving up that striving would likely be an immense relief. Would there still be crying when Adagio for Strings came around on my playlist? Perhaps not.

We foolish, deluded, obsessive humans, it seems, have nothing, and everything, to lose. Especially the insane and endlessly-reinforced belief that nothing, including ourselves, can ever be quite beautiful enough.

But oh, sweet perfect impossible beauty, it would be so hard to let you go.

Posted in How the World Really Works, Illusion of the Separate Self and Free Will, Our Culture / Ourselves | 2 Comments

Not So Extreme

I was not surprised that the coronation of Biden went off peacefully. It was pretty clear that the gang of overpaid Trump PR people who orchestrated 98% of what happened in DC earlier this month concluded that, thanks to the 2% who stormed the Capitol and got all the headlines, it was a total PR disaster.

The Jan 6 event involved millions of dollars in promoting a protest, complete with massive stages with expensive Jumbotron TVs and even a US-Open-style Executive Tent for the Trump family and friends. And it backfired. They should have known: In progressive protests it’s never the large numbers who march peacefully that get the media attention; it’s the tiny Black Bloc type minority smashing windows and looting. Why should it be any different when conservatives protest?

After that PR disaster, the Trump PR corps just gave up, and the result was the small handfuls of protesters we’ve seen over the past few days, far more militant in their beliefs but completely disorganized, unfunded and unrepresentative of anyone but their own tiny membership.

Some recent articles, I think, drive home where America now sits, and here’s where I think that is:

  1. About 45% of the US population is centrist (often described in US media as ‘progressives’ or ‘liberals’, but just middle-of-the-road or slightly right of that by the standards of most western democracies). They voted for Democrats, were pleased with the election results, and worried about the 45% in group 2 below, who they have almost no personal contact with, and so don’t realize that they are politically almost indistinguishable from themselves, other than their positions on a few social issues like abortion. Their fear was and is exaggerated and exploited by media hype and political opportunism (“polarization!”).
  2. About 45% of the population is right-of-centre, socially conservative, and small town/rural Republicans. They were unhappy with the election results and bewildered by media and politicians who incessantly insisted the election was stolen. They are not sure quite what to believe, and they are worried about the 52% in groups 1, 3, and 6, who they have almost no personal contact with, and so don’t realize that they are politically almost indistinguishable from group 1, other than their positions on a few social issues like abortion. Their fear was and is exaggerated and exploited by media hype and political opportunism (“communists!”).
  3. About 6% of the population are actual real progressives and socialists, not sure if they are pleased with the election results but relieved it wasn’t worse. They’re relatively informed and capable of critical thinking beyond the oversimplified fear-mongering coverage of the media on “both sides”. So they understand that beyond a lot of posturing and a more diverse-looking cabinet, the same corporate interests that actually determined economic, political and military policy under past administrations remain firmly in control and will dictate actual policy going forward. They’re not happy about that.
  4. About 2% of the population are actual real economic conservatives, not sure if they are pleased with the election results but relieved it wasn’t worse. They’re relatively informed and capable of critical thinking beyond the oversimplified fear-mongering coverage of the media on “both sides”. So they understand that beyond a lot of posturing and a more diverse-looking cabinet, the same corporate interests that actually determined economic, political and military policy under past administrations remain firmly in control and will dictate actual policy going forward. They’re quite happy with that. They actually can’t lose. A good proportion of the top caste of Americans (“the 1%”) probably fits in this group.
  5. About 1% of the population are truly right-wing idealistic libertarian militia-types (this link will give you a sense of how they’re feeling now.) They were outraged by the election results, have little to lose and would actually like to see a permanent authoritarian government of like-minded right-wingers who would restore rigid patriarchy and/or dismantle government ‘social’ services. They’re nostalgic for what never was.
  6. About 1% of the population are truly left-wing idealistic libertarian militia-types (this link will give you a sense of how they’re feeling now.) They were outraged by the election results, have little to lose and would actually like to see a complete dismantling of authority (especially police, governments and borders).

This delicate balance, which I’ve tried to depict in the chart above, has been in place for nearly four decades. Some thoughts on how the balance has shifted over the years:

  • The line between groups 1 & 3, and between groups 2 & 4, is pretty fluid, with voters moving back and forth depending on the times and the rhetoric. That’s why Bernie Sanders (group 3) was actually electable.
  • On much of the left coast of the US my sense is that groups 1 & 2 are a bit smaller and groups 3, 5 & 6 a bit larger. In the US south, I suspect groups 2 & 6 are a bit larger and groups 3 & 5 are a bit smaller. while in the Northeast the opposite is probably true.
  • I think young people tend more towards groups 3, 5 & 6, but since they gravitate to groups 1, 2 & 4 as they get older the system tends to stay in equilibrium.
  • Most of the Americans I know are probably in group 3, though with perhaps some sympathy with those in group 6 except when they act like Bloc-heads. Similarly, I think a lot of US conservatives from group 2 have been goaded to be somewhat sympathetic to the group 5 “militias”, except when they act like antler-heads.
  • I don’t think the majority of Americans in any of these groups are as war-mongering or as enamoured with and beholden to corporatist interests, as either the Republican or Democratic administrations they’ve voted for. But both parties rely utterly on the ultra-rich corporatists and media for the campaign funds and coverage they need to win elections. So only that tiny group is getting the kind of government they really want. The rest of us are bullied, fear-mongered and propagandized to make the false choice between Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Inequality disenfranchises almost everyone.
  • Because groups 2, 4 and 6 combined are less than 50%, Republicans and conservatives have to rely on gerrymandering, the senate representation distortion, and the obsolete electoral college to win elections. They’ve become pretty good at it over the last four decades. It especially helps when group 3 shrugs and decides (with some justification) it really doesn’t matter, so they don’t vote.

My sense is that the situation in Canada isn’t much different, except the third group is probably somewhat larger and the fifth and sixth groups probably somewhat smaller, mostly for cultural reasons, as depicted above.

In Canada, because groups 2, 4 and 6 combined are less than 50%, they have to rely on the “first-past-the-post” system of elections that has allowed them to win close to 40% of multi-party elections over the past 4 decades with only 40% of the votes, because the centrist and progressive parties split their 60% of the votes among 3-5 different parties. My sense is that the political landscape in much of Europe and other anglophone countries is not dissimilar to Canada’s.

So I’m not terribly worried about the loss of democracy, though I agree with Adam Gopnik that we can never give up trying to make it work better, and should never assume it will last forever. (Groups 5 & 6, tiny as they are, are large enough to create havoc, especially with warfare — both military and political — becoming increasingly asymmetric).

The rally on Jan 6 supposedly attracted an estimated 25,000 people, of which about 98% were probably from group 2 (clueless, unarmed, protest “tourists” who reacted to Trump’s people’s herculean PR campaign to show up for the rally and party even though they never got invited into the tent). That’s a really poor return on the massive publicity investment — after all, Greta Thunberg attracted 20 times that number to Montréal for her climate march with much less spending. Though of course, ultimately neither event made any difference.

The media didn’t even show much of the action with the giant stages, speeches, Jumbotron displays or the Trump tent — it was more fun (and better for their ratings) to show the guy sprawled in Nancy Pelosi’s office or the antler-head playing to the cameras in the Senate chamber. Instead, some of them showed the tent video after the fact as if the attendees were celebrating the invasion of the Capitol, although the tent was only occupied during the rally where Trump had spoken two hours earlier, and then the family left for the private dining room in the Oval Office well before the ‘invasion’ of the Capitol began. But, gotta keep those ratings up.

I think the far greater problem is that, due to the above-noted distortions in the electoral systems, conservatives are justifiably worried that if the system isn’t somehow constantly rigged in their favour, they’ll never hold power. And they’re absolutely correct. So there’s a lot to be gained for conservatives in both the US and Canada to fire up “their” group 2 & 4 voters through fear-mongering.

And then, of course, there’s a lot to be gained by the centrist parties (US Democrats, Canada’s Liberals) to fear-monger that since the system is rigged, they may never hold power, so they have to turn out in extraordinary numbers (and not split the vote) to prevent the minority from always winning. And they’re absolutely correct.

It’s a completely fucked-up system. But to me, the real outrage remains the one that the media never talk about: the total control that the corporatists, who finance all the major parties in both countries, and who own the media, have over the levers of power and policy, no matter which party wins.

And so we have American munitions enabling the endless atrocities in Yemen, and the endless war-mongering against Iran, China and Russia, no matter who wins the US election, and we have Canadian governments buying pipelines and pimping for big oil, no matter who wins the Canadian election.

And we have both governments paying lip service to addressing climate change while doing nothing of substance to even slow it down. (And don’t say the Democrats just need time — they had time under Clinton and Obama and did nothing.)

Unlike authoritarian overthrow, which is a small but real risk, these outrages are happening, here and now, and the parties and the media are all complicit, conning us all. Nero would be proud.

Just in case you’re new to reading this blog — this situation cannot be fixed. This is what political, social, economic and ecological systems in collapse look like. Everyone in power knows that no one can prevent these collapses from happening, and all they’re doing is posturing, offering false reassurances (to keep people obedient, prevent widespread panic, and tamp down the numbers of the nothing-to-losers in groups 5 & 6), trying to prop it all up a little longer, and making sure they have their own personal escape and insurance plans in place. And perhaps trying to buy into their own rhetoric, to make it all seem less hopeless.

I learned a lot over the past 20 years talking candidly with climate scientists (and a few economists), with the cameras off and no media in earshot. They’ve known we’re fucked for a long time, but they dare not say so publicly, and in some ways, they don’t even dare admit it to themselves. It doesn’t matter which of the six groups you’re in — none of the forms of salvation their leaders promise has a hope of working. Might as well talk and play with the deck chairs, because on this voyage on Spaceship Earth, there are no lifeboats.

Posted in Collapse Watch, How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 5 Comments

IFLS, the Sequel


photo: Andy Bruckner, NOAA, public domain

Since I’m still a bit of a blog whore and got lots of readers on my recent shark post, I can’t resist posting what I thought were the most astonishing scientific facts known (thus far), from a total of 2,100 submitted by readers of the IFLS page in response to their January 7th invite.

There were several on quantum theory and astrophysics that were amazing but impossible to get your head around. Of all the ideas submitted, these 20 are just, IMO, wow:

  1. Sharks existed before trees.
  2. There are more trees on earth than stars in our galaxy.
  3. Air conditioning was commercially available before sliced bread. Lighters came out before matchsticks.
  4. If you went into orbit around a black hole you could, in theory, sneak up on yourself and tap yourself on the shoulder.
  5. When you look at the sun, you’re seeing the photons that came from the centre of the sun 40,000 years ago, but they only reached the surface of the sun 8 minutes ago.
  6. Oxford University is 200 years older than the Aztecs, 300 years older than Machu Picchu, and 150 years older than the Easter Island heads.
  7. Octopuses apparently sometimes punch fish just for fun.
  8. The existence of dinosaurs was only discovered 200 years ago.
  9. The genome of an onion is five times as complex as that of a human.
  10. The variance between the genome of anthrax bacteria and that of cholera bacteria is much greater than the variance between the genome of humans and that of potatoes.
  11. Over time, ice cubes in your freezer will disappear, not by melting or contraction but by sublimating directly into gas because of low humidity in the freezer.
  12. Several animal species that once had stomachs (echidnas, platypuses and many fish species) have evolved to no longer have them.
  13. When a woman is breast feeding a sick child her body will actually sample the child’s saliva, create an immune response, and put antibodies in the breast milk specific to the child’s illness. Breast milk also contains cannabinoids.
  14. Cows are more closely related to whales than they are to horses.
  15. Moose dive up to 20’ deep in water to eat aquatic vegetation.
  16. We need the excretions of plants (oxygen) to live; or, stated another way, plants are raising us to use as compost.
  17. You, as an egg, existed within your grandmother before she gave birth to your mother.
  18. Elephants are the only animals with knees on their forelegs. But, also unusually, they don’t have ankles.
  19. Almost all “fossil fuels” are the remains of algae, bacteria, and plants, dating back more than 350 my. Animal skeletons are not nearly plentiful enough to constitute a viable source of energy, and are often petrified and hence fire-resistant and largely useless as a fuel source anyway.
  20. All plants and animals have genetic forks representing significant evolutionary shifts, except for turtles, which are essentially unchanged over 250 my.

And the most interesting question asked by respondents to the challenge: If the tomato is a fruit, does that mean ketchup is a smoothie?

Posted in How the World Really Works | Comments Off on IFLS, the Sequel

The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken (Robert Frost)

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

If I have developed any distinctive competency in my life, it is likely the capacity to imagine possibilities — to draw on my study of a very broad range of subjects and make connections, and hence identify what might be possible, and what might have been possible.

This is a bit paradoxical in light of my current belief that we have no free will, and that therefore things have happened, and will happen, in the only way they possibly could have. There are no possibilities, except in our imaginations.

A recent article by the Ideas Editor (is that a dream job or what?) of the New Yorker, Joshua Rothman, explores how we think about the possibility that our lives might have turned out differently, and the impact of our choices and non-choices, and concludes that we define ourselves and our dreams for the future largely on the basis of what we have not chosen to do (at least yet) and what has not happened yet but might — “We seem to find meaning in what’s never happened. Our self-portraits use a lot of negative space.”

He notes that while Robert Frost claims his choice between the two roads made “all the difference”, in the end “it doesn’t matter what the difference is”.

In his hit song Baby Boom Baby, James Taylor writes: “How come I miss what I never knew? / Drag out the past just to paint it blue / Spend my days with a dream of you.” Thinking of past loves and dreams, which are actually all fictions, that song still, always, brings tears to my eyes.

So does another song, by Christine Lavin, The Kind of Love You Never Recover From: “At times like this when the moon is right / When the air is foggy like it is tonight / She’ll think about what might have been / If she had just held on to him… So here am I looking at you / Oh tell me, what are we gonna do? / Am I destined to be a regret? /Are you that one I will never forget?”

It’s interesting that songs with this theme of other possible choices are always replete with questions. The Muppets’ song Rainbow Connection, about future possibilities, is full of unanswerable questions.

Joshua notes that “The butterfly effect works in reverse: [Everything that actually happened] had to happen—in fact, everything had to go a certain way.” The road not taken was, in a sense, never there.

One writer that Joshua refers to in his article suggests that the western cults of individualism and capitalism, both of which emphasize ever more personal choices, have exacerbated the anguish we feel about other choices we supposedly might have made. The more choices we seem to have, the more sub-optimal choices there are, and the less likely it is we will choose the most optimal.

And then there are the related issues of shame and regret about past supposed choices, and the endless stress over the choices we feel we have to make, now or soon or eventually, to ensure a happy future for ourselves and our loved ones. Our relationship with time, in that respect, seems to me entirely unhealthy — our imagined pasts filled with false nostalgia and crippling regret, and our imagined futures filled with self-doubt and dread.

As someone blessed and cursed with a seemingly-unlimited and hyperactive imagination, I often think about the emergence of imagination as an evolutionary trait. I used to watch Chelsea the dog running in her sleep, her paws moving involuntarily in motion that clearly mimicked pursuit, even while she was lying on her side, quietly yipping. Surely she was dreaming, imagining something that might have happened, or might one day happen, or even something that could never happen but which, in that unconscious moment, seemed definitely to be happening. So I don’t think imagination is a uniquely human trait.

Presumably it emerged to allow us to plan for eventualities that had not yet happened, and to learn from those that had passed — what might have gone differently and what we can take from that. If so, as I’ve argued elsewhere, I think it was a spandrel — an accidental experiment of very large and not overly busy brains, one that has continued to emerge in each new generation of humans not because it’s of any use, but because there’s nothing currently or yet important enough for our mostly idle brains to do instead.

There are compelling arguments that imagining is just too energy-demanding, imprecise, and slow a process to have actually helped our species survive in the face of life’s immediate, life-threatening crises. Nice try, Mother Nature, but this seems a very expensive failure. It allows us to imagine possibilities, most of them actually impossible or impracticable, and many of them terrifying, immobilizing, traumatizing, inactionable, over-simplified or, well, just unrealistic.

Without imagination there could not be regret, or envy, or shame, or a host of other negative emotions that don’t serve us at all well. But there would also be no fantasy, no aspiration, and probably no perseverance.

Our selves are, if anything, stories — imagined plots about imagined characters. We create them to make sense of the world and our perceptions and conceptions about it. When we don’t like our lot we are urged to create a different, better story, which is to say imagine one and use it to motivate us to pursue its realization. What a fool’s errand that is!

My life used to be filled with regrets, envy, shame, indecision, second-guessing, day-dreaming, fantasizing, and other forms of longing for what was not, or is not, or will not ever be. As I get older these feelings and activities take up less and less space in me. I think that’s exhaustion more than wisdom. I’m no longer taken with stories much, my own or others’, whether they’re about a fictitious past or a fictitious future or a fictitious other world, no matter how artfully they’re made. They are lies, propaganda, over-simplifications, false promises. They are distractions from what is in favour of what might be, or might have been. Children and idealists and ideologues and optimists seem to love them, but to me they seem increasingly useless, empty.

Why do we want to be told stories, especially as children? Why do we like to imagine what might have been, or might one day be, or might be somewhere far, far away, when what is, right here, right now, is so astonishing, and mostly unnoticed? What is it about our sense of wonder that its focus is so easily seized from the real world and redirected to distraction from the real world in the invention of other, false realities?

And what would it be like to break through the veil of our illusions of choice and alternate possibilities, to escape the sad, limited, invented story of our selves, and to simply be, like Chelsea, and like the madly soaring flock of hundreds of pine siskins outside my window, right here, right now, beyond imagining — one with everything?

Posted in Illusion of the Separate Self and Free Will, Our Culture / Ourselves | 4 Comments

Links of the Month: January 2021


The Underhoused: Tent cities in (upper left) Vancouver BC, (upper right) Portland OR, and (lower right) new tents on a street in Nanaimo BC. The Vancouver site was bulldozed and converted to a playground. A new Portland tent city site has been installed by the local government, to mixed reviews. The original Nanaimo tent city site was bulldozed and replaced with “temporary” housing in construction trailers, and no one is happy. The building lower left is one of 2500 public housing “projects” run by New York’s NYCHA, housing nearly 400,000 people; the authority is near bankruptcy and many of the facilities are plagued with problems rendering them close to uninhabitable. 
—————

If you’d take the train with me, uptown, thru the misery
Of ghetto streets in morning light, it’s always night
Take a window seat, put down your Times; you can read between the lines
Just meet the faces that you meet beyond the window’s pane

And it might begin to teach you how to give a damn about your fellow man
And it might begin to reach you how to give a damn about your fellow man

Or put your girl to sleep sometime with rats instead of nursery rhymes,
With hunger and your other children by her side
And wonder if you’ll share your bed with something else which must be fed
For fear may lie beside you or it may sleep down the hall

Come and see how well despair is seasoned by the stifling air,
See your ghetto in the good old sizzling summertime
Suppose the streets were all on fire, the flames like tempers leaping higher
Suppose you’d lived there all your life? Do you think that you would find
That it might begin to reach you why I give a damn about my fellow man;
And it might begin to teach you how to give a damn about your fellow man

— Bob Dorough & Stuart Scharf, “Give a Damn” (1968)

Listening to this half-a-century old song and realizing how little has changed. How can we hope to understand the despair, the rage, the hopelessness that most — most — of the world wakes up to and lives with every day, in the endlessly decaying urban ghettos, the hollowed-out mountain mining towns, and all over the world in the homeless camps, the refugee camps, the grinding, sprawling urban slums with their stench of death, and the desolate farms with their endless, ghastly labour of struggle, misery and hard-scrabble survival. How much longer do we expect them to stay silent, to keep doing what they’re told they have to do, to salute, put their shoulder to the world, work, and obey, and pray for a better future?


CIVILIZATION’S COLLAPSE


Oil Bunkering [theft] #4 by Canadian photographer Edward Burtynsky, from The New Yorker. This is an aerial view of illegal refineries on the Niger River processing stolen Nigerian oil. The helicopter crew had to be alert for gunfire from the refinery operators.

Lessons from the garden: Paul Kingsnorth reviews the work of Narendra, an anthropologist living and working in the Abujhmad region of Bastar, India one of the last bastions of traditional Adivasi (“uncivilized”) people many of whom are still largely untouched by modern culture and technology. The lessons are:

  1. “This is our home” — the forest, the land, wild, uncontained, not houses apart from it. “There is only being.”
  2. The key to living in the Garden is not asking questions — it is acceptance and simplicity. Nothing has to have a reason to be as it is.
  3. Where you come from doesn’t matter; what matters is how you live in the place you are. “Our place does not seek the road to any utopia; it never lost itself.”

“A ghastly future of mass extinction”: That’s what scientists, again, endlessly, unheeded, warn us is coming. If we do not…  If, if, if. goddamn copout if.

“Nature is under siege”: The massive die-off of insects, on which all life depends, is accelerating, and with it, ecosystem collapse.


LIVING BETTER


from Cartoon Collections, by Michael Shaw

Best short film ever?: If you watch nothing else on YouTube this year, watch this two-minute Iranian film by 20-year-old Sayed Mohammad Reza Kheradmandan. Its message is universal. Afterwards, read the comments to see what you missed, and love it even more.

China the good, China the bad: Vilified by both warmongering American political parties, the people of China, as everywhere else, run the gamut. Their doctors, blamed for starting CoVid-19, actually through their openness and sharing with the rest of the world, not only saved millions of lives, but have kept their country from being a major spreader of the disease, unlike some countries we could mention. And they can also be fierce humanitarians, saving the life of a sick Australian in Antarctica. But then there are the politicians. A survivor of two years of hell in a Uighur ‘re-education camp’ describes first-hand the inhuman treatment that China inflicts on its ethnic minorities.

The spy ecologist: Meanwhile, the execrable CIA has been known to hire some real scientists who do valuable work, like Linda Zall who, before her program was shut down, used detailed satellite spy photos unavailable anywhere else to map ecological changes on land and sea. Thanks to Tree Bressen for the link.


POLITICS AND ECONOMICS AS USUAL


Photo of AOC in Now This News

In other American news: I’ve already written my thoughts on the capitol riots, so here’s what else has been going on while our attention was elsewhere:

From Industrial to Financial Corpocracy: The shift from Tweedletrump to Tweedlebiden will usher in a shift in allegiance from industrial corporatists to financial corporatists, who are arguably worse for financial stability and more likely to precipitate economic collapse. Here’s a detailed article explaining what the power shift means, and why financial corporatism will make inequality and the economic woes and suffering of the 99% worse. Thanks to Stu Henshall and Michel Bauwens for the link.

David Graeber on democracy: Back in 2015, the late great anthropologist and economist explained how hard the founders of the US worked to ensure there would be no democracy in their country. They knew that if there were, the 90% with no wealth would choose to appropriate the wealth of the 10%, and that could never be allowed.


COVID-19 CORNER


Drawing by Derek Evernden

It’s beginning to look as if my “worst case” scenario for CoVid-19 — in which cases and deaths accelerate as isolation fatigue sets in, to the point the death toll approaches half what it would have been if we’d just let it spread without any restrictions from the outset — is coming true. The US daily death toll, which had levelled off at 1,000/day in the summer, is now levelling off again this winter at 4,000/day. The global daily death toll, which had levelled off at 5,000/day in the summer, is now levelling off again this winter at 13,000/day. These follow the predictions of IHME, the most pessimistic of the model forecasters, and they mean that by the time the vaccine takes us to herd immunity this fall, US deaths will likely have risen from today’s 400,000 to about 700,000, while global deaths will rise from today’s 2 million to nearly 4 million. With the IFR still converging on 0.4%, adjusting for average age and mobility differences, the “herd immunity” death toll would likely have been 1.4 million Americans (twice the number currently projected) and 12 million globally (three times the number currently projected) respectively. That’s how many lives we’ve saved with all our frenzied work and billions of people masked and distancing. And that’s how many we’ve lost, almost all of them unnecessarily, despite that work. It’s a poor reflection on our capacity, just about everywhere, to adapt quickly to crisis, and on our willingness to make sacrifices to save others’ lives. It doesn’t bode at all well if the next pandemic, which is almost certain to be soon, is more virulent.

Here’s what’s new on the CoVid-19 front:

  • In the New Yorker, Benjamin Wallace-Wells (David’s brother if you’re curious) reveals the disproportionate effect of superspreader events (one biotech conference with 175 participants led to 250,000 infections) and how viruses are so complex and mutate so fast that even the best science can’t keep up with them.
  • Zeynep Tüfekçi argues that by not vaccinating the most vulnerable first (those over 75, those in very high-risk jobs, and those in nursing homes, and then those over 65), a huge proportion of the benefit of the vaccine will be lost. Then she posts a follow-up with a rebuttal showing that it’s not that simple: It’s a function of risk of exposure, risk of infection if exposed, AND risk of serious illness/death if infected, and that’s almost impossible to model in a practical scheme for vaccine distribution.
  • In Canada, dozens of politicians, crown corporation executives and senior civil servants have lost their jobs when it was revealed that they defied government guidelines to stay in Canada during the pandemic and flew to vacations and weddings in exotic locations. The most privileged offenders, notably hospital administrators, are suing for millions of dollars for “wrongful dismissal”. “It was just a guideline!”
  • Canada had the virus well under control for months in the summer, but ineptly lost it in the fall by relaxing restrictions. The problem was exacerbated by negligent corporations like the international animal-abuse mega-corp Cargill, which (“allegedly”) knowingly exposed its employees to the pandemic in unsafe conditions in the interest of maintaining profit, resulting in dozens of deaths and now, criminal investigation.

FUN AND INSPIRATION


Late for rehearsal: image on Facebook, original source not cited; thanks to Eric Lilius for the link

Albatross!: The 69-year-old Laysan albatross Wisdom has laid her 36th egg on Midway Atoll refuge. She’s the oldest known banded bird in the world and still going strong. Albatrosses lay a single egg every year or two and both parents (or sometimes step-parents of either gender) tend the nest until the hatchling fledges nine months later. To see an example, NZ has a Royal albatross cam that celebrates the entire process at one nesting site.

Deep roots: DNA study of the 5,500-year-old skeleton of a Metlakatla woman in Haida Gwaii on the northwest coast of what is now BC shows a direct link to a nearby 2,500-year-old skeleton… and to a living Tsimshian woman, 200 generations later.

Dead End in Joshua Tree: Canadian electrosynth dance music duo Lights and MYTH perform a spectacular audience-less concert at Joshua Tree National Park, California. Really shows how artists can adapt to a pandemic.

The greatest extinction: The near-total extinction of all life on earth, 2.7Bya, when life was still tiny and new, was caused by… oxygen.

Journey to the microcosmos: Another series of the Vlogbrothers shows what you can see, and learn with a modest-priced microscope. Water-bears are just the beginning.


RADICAL NON-DUALITY STUFF


Photo of Pine Siskins by Judith Roan for Audubon. One with everything…

The illusion of free will: A 2001, but still timely, summary of the debate over free will, presented by a philosopher and scientist, that moves beyond the narrow debate over determinism. “The planning and subsequent action are not done by ‘you’ but by the universe acting through you. We are in a play in which we are both actor and audience and there is no script; the play just appears.”

This past month’s best radical non-duality talks:


THOUGHTS FOR THE MONTH


Neil Anderson’s award-winning photo of two (count the tails) squirrels in a drey (hollowed-out warming nest) in Scotland

From Greta Thunberg on FB, yesterday (Thanks to John Kellden for the link):

A short summary from the ‪#OnePlanetSummit‬ in Paris yesterday:
Bla bla bla nature       Bla bla bla very important            Bla bla bla ambitious
Bla bla bla green investment       Bla bla bla great opportunity       Bla bla bla green growth
Bla bla bla net zero emissions      Bla bla bla step up our game      Bla bla bla hopeful
Bla bla bla…   (while locking in decades of further destruction)
• 10 years ago our leaders signed the “ambitious” Aichi goals ”to protect wildlife and ecosystems”. By the end of 2020 it became clear they had failed on every single one. Each day they have the possibility to act. But they choose not to. Instead they just sign some more “ambitious” targets long into the future while passing binding policies, locking in destructive business as usual such as the new EU Common Agricultural Policy (CAP). Of course change doesn’t happen overnight and of course we need the ”bla bla bla” to get moving. The question is; how many decades of bla bla bla do we really need? Because there has been quite a few so far…
• There are undoubtedly many great people working and pushing for change on government levels everywhere, but the current best available science clearly shows that the action needed is not possible within today’s systems. We need a whole new way of thinking.  And it gives me absolutely no pleasure or joy to keep pointing this out, but as it is now we can have as many meetings and conferences as we want – unless we start to treat this like the existential emergency it is, no real sufficient action will be possible. We cannot solve a crisis without treating it like a crisis.

From my friend Ron Woodall, in a PM:

How life works:
Life does not work. Life will kill you.
You are not okay. Nobody’s okay.
Nothing is ever easy. Nothing is ever over.
You are in this alone. The force is with somebody else.
Things will go from bad to worse. After worse, much worse. Then that’s it.
You will always be waiting in line. The other line will move faster.
You can’t win, you can’t tie and you can’t quit.
For everything really bad, there is an equal and opposite worse thing.
What goes up comes down faster.
There will never be a normal to get back to.
Nothing matters much and few things matter at all.
Most things happen at the wrong time or not at all.
If it starts on time, you will be late.
Things are worse than you suspect.
Turbulence is a fact of life.
The glass is not empty. There is no glass.
There is a hole in the bucket. The batteries are dead.
Life is funny but not really funny.
In a month it doesn’t matter.
It’s all fluke.
Nothing ever goes away.
Everything depends.

Posted in Collapse Watch, How the World Really Works, Illusion of the Separate Self and Free Will, Our Culture / Ourselves | 3 Comments

All the Things I Was Wrong About


Caravaggio’s 1601 painting The Incredulity of St Thomas, based on the biblical story that gave rise to the expression “Doubting Thomas”. Image from wikipedia, in the public domain.

One of the downsides of keeping a blog is that it leaves a permanent record of all the dumb things the writer once believed. I’ve left all my posts up because sometimes it’s a useful reminder of how much I’ve learned in 18 years.

So here, in all false humility, is a list of things I once believed that I now think are preposterous. Some of them caused needless suffering, to others and to myself. Others were quite absurd, an indication of how carried away we idealists can get by the most precarious of information and well-honed arguments. Still others were just gullible. I wasn’t sure how to rank them so I’m just going to put them out there:

I once believed:

  1. That we have free will. That people are to blame for, in control of, and responsible for, their actions. That we are more than the product of our genetic and cultural conditioning.
  2. That we can do anything we set ourselves out to do. That entrepreneurship, practiced well, is a roadmap to joy, sustainability and self-fulfillment open to everyone.
  3. That through learning and “innovation”, and study of indigenous cultures, or if we all just [fill in the blank], we can yet “save the world”, by which I meant, ambiguously, both the natural, more-than-human world and the human civilization that has now largely destroyed it.
  4. That 9/11 was an “inside job”. (You know, that sixth tower…)
  5. That squalene in military vaccines during the Gulf War was a dangerous and unnecessary experimental “adjutant” that was added just to save manufacturers money. (Is there anything bad we couldn’t have believed about Dick Cheney?)
  6. That hierarchy, schooling, “free” markets, “work”, non-plant foods, monogamy, centralization and privatization have their useful place.
  7. That eating well and exercising are not that important to our health, and that we can actually choose to eat well and exercise, or not. That bodies are all (substantially) the same in terms of what makes them healthy or not.
  8. That a small number of people with wildly disproportionate knowledge and power could if they chose bring about major change in our world.
  9. That conversation, language, the Internet, and story-telling enable powerful communication and understanding. That there is a large appetite for thoughtful, investigative, well-researched, challenging and imaginative writing, by journalists, scientists, philosophers and creative minds.
  10. That the world (meaning either the randomness of events in the cosmos, or life in human society) is unfair.
  11. That indirect activism works.
  12. That by studying systems we can change them. That predicaments are just particularly-challenging “wicked” problems.
  13. That most people want to know the truth. That most people are fundamentally curious, and basically healthy.
  14. That we can actually imagine a world very different from the one(s) we have directly experienced (especially if we’ve read about it in cultural studies or sci-fi).
  15. That hope is essential to our continuation and health, and that depression (which I suffered from for a good part of my life) is a curable disease.
  16. That there is such a thing as “good” and “evil”.
  17. That we are the most conscious and intellectually advanced species in the history of the planet.
  18. That reason is more reliable as the basis for belief and action than intuition.
  19. That the human “self” is real and in control of the mind and body it believes it occupies.
  20. That anything is real or separate. That time and space and people and “things” actually exist and that things “happen” within and to them.

I added the last two somewhat reluctantly. I no longer believe they are true, but my behaviour, including my writing on this blog, clearly demonstrates that some well-entrenched “me” still accepts them, still presumes they are the case.

These are all things I wanted to believe, so it was not that hard for me to do so. Believing them made things easier, made everything that seemed to be happening make more sense, and relieved the cognitive dissonance that any conflicting views I might entertain brought up.

So what has changed so much in the past 18 years that I no longer believe any of these things that I would have once ardently argued for (and often did)?

My conditioning has changed. The people in my life now are very different, fewer in number and less certain about what they believe. The dogma of the educational prison and the corporate workplace with their QAnon-like “fear and obey” message no longer holds power over me like it once did.

I trust my instincts more than I used to, realizing that human intuition has evolved over a million years to integrate knowledge much better than reason and thinking alone can. I am much less swayed by arguments from people in my “progressive” social circles, no matter how articulate or impassioned they may be, when they are unsupported by dispassionate reason, evidence or science. I may still want to believe them, but I find I just can’t, when it entails blaming people for their outrageous actions, when that behaviour will never be fixed through enmity, indoctrination, incarceration, use of power, or argument (or, sadly, any other type of “fix”.) Things are the way they are for a reason, and it is no one’s “fault”.

I seem to have outgrown the severe depression that handicapped me for much of my life, and I think that has cleared my thinking and liberated energy for a reconsideration of beliefs that I clung to unreasonably for many years. And retirement has certainly helped.

My small circle of exceptionally intelligent and sensitive friends have modelled much healthier thinking, reactions, beliefs and behaviours than my own, and in the process have enormously helped me to become more self-aware and self-knowledgeable, more equanimous, more critical of unchallenged ideas, and both physically and emotionally healthier. I am blessed, and these radical changes in worldview are largely their astonishing gift to me.

Over the years I have made the arguments for all of these changes of belief, repeatedly, in this blog, and the purpose of this post is not to persuade anyone or to drag these issues back up for debate. The newest belief changes have not come through argument, but rather from just sitting with what seems to be, and what seems to be happening, and seeing what arises. The only one who can change anyone’s mind is themselves.

So I guess my purpose in writing this is to see how far I’ve come since I started using this blog to think out loud in public. You can draw your own conclusions about whether it’s a progression or a regression. I’m sure there’s more to come.

Thanks for reading and listening, and telling me what you think, all these long years.

———

(PS: Regarding #5, it is kind of interesting that 13 years after the suicide of squalene champion Bruce Ivins, who was accused of being the 2001 US anthrax mailer even though the evidence against him was dubious and the possibility of his creating the weaponized anthrax alone was absolutely zero, the mystery of the perpetrators of the anthrax mailings, which occurred just before and were used to justify the draconian Patriot Act and the invasion of Iraq, has never been solved.)

Posted in Collapse Watch, How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 5 Comments

Why Can’t We See?


AP photo by John Minchillo

It’s been fascinating to see the response of what passes for “progressives” in western nations to what has unfolded in the US over the past few days. Suddenly they’ve gone all Law & Order, wanting police to clamp down hard on the antler-heads that briefly and easily occupied Congress, and on the narcissistic, psychopathic leader who goaded them to do it. You almost wonder if this was actually concocted by some mad right-winger who wanted to give everyone a taste of what “defunding and abolishing the police” might actually lead to.

First of all, this was not a coup, nor even a coup attempt. Despite the tragic deaths it was all theatre, right down to the antler-heads’ heavy make-up. Although some of them smashed their way in, many of them waltzed in through the front door, even taking selfies with some of the cops. That’s not to say it wasn’t serious. The behaviour of the invaders — not only mask-less but posing for photos and not concealing their identities in any way — wasn’t an act of bravado but one of nihilism. They felt they had nothing to lose.

Of course the police response was deplorable — had these been BIPOC protesters there would have been a bloody confrontation with dozens or hundreds killed and injured. And of course the invasion was predictable — authorities were too busy monitoring tweets and Facebook posts to take a gander at the explicit organizing instructions on the right-wing Parler, Dlive and other social media overtly encouraging and coordinating violent confrontation.

It has often been said, perhaps unfairly, that people get the governments they deserve. The choice in the US right now is between a party baldly willing to subvert democracy to keep a privileged white ultra-conservative caste in power indefinitely, and a party owned and run by a centre-right corporatist caste utterly beholden to the military-industrial-financial complex which is “democratic” in name only. The hold of the dominant castes on both parties has been growing stronger each decade. No party even vaguely represents either progressives or the working class. The citizens have been systematically and ruthlessly propagandized by lies, misinformation and fear to fiercely support either the Democrats or the Republicans, although neither cares a whit for their interests.

This is a system problem, one that is now beyond repair and will have to collapse, like all unsustainable, dysfunctional systems, and be replaced by a new system, which may well be just as unsustainable and dysfunctional, given the accelerating manifold crises that any new systems are now likely to emerge in. The American political system, like our global economic system and our global ecology, is in a well-advanced stage of collapse.

Giuliani and the rest of the whacked-out career criminals who pandered to Trump for money, power and pardons are all just cogs in the machine, now being replaced with a cadre of diverse-looking militaristic and economic hard-liners, whose only interest is to ensure the Republicans continue to look even worse to the majority of voters than the Democrats. Not a difficult task.

If you’ve read this blog before, you probably know I am not about to prescribe solutions for collapsing systems. There are none. But what I can do is to highlight a couple of the more insane ideas that are now being suggested to deal with the political crisis. Quite a few scientists, philosophers and other reasonably informed thinkers have pointed out the overwhelming evidence that we humans have no free will, and that as a result, negative reinforcement (incarceration and other punishment) simply never sustainably works.

Many progressives have long understood that the real point of abolishing police forces is to replace their presence and their budgets with resources for income and wealth equalization and the provision of social services that will prevent the desperate behaviours that underlie the “need” for police, lawyers and other anachronistic relics of our paternalistic, deeply prejudiced penal systems. While it is grating to acknowledge that the obnoxious antler-heads are only acting out their lifelong conditioning, and the only consequence of imprisoning them will be to harden them and make them even more dangerous, that’s probably the truth.

Nevertheless, today we have the New Yorker saying Trump and the rioters must be severely punished to serve as a deterrent against future similar behaviours. And we have the New York Times saying it’s time to “crack down rather than reaching out”.

The result of our ‘civilized’ destruction of neighbourhoods and communities has been to alienate us all, to the point we can no longer see the vast and widespread state of shame, despair, desperation, rage and humiliation that underlies the kind of behaviour we saw in the streets of Washington DC this week, and the vote two months ago — and in the streets all over the world last summer, though they are not at all equivalent actions. We can no longer appreciate that it is our disconnection from each other that has polarized, alienated, ostracized and traumatized us to the point we consider half of our population “deplorables”. We don’t understand how they think and feel. We don’t want to. We are afraid to. We are so isolated in our insulated social bubbles that we have no contact with them.

A very conservative Manhattan-based co-worker of mine told me a number of years ago that he was finding it increasingly difficult to sympathize with “most” New Yorkers. He found them ignorant, uninformed, emotionally distant, tasteless, insufferably idealistic, and intolerant. A few hours later he described how he and his family lived: His kids were chauffeured to their private schools (public transit and public schools were “dangerous” and “useless” respectively). He took a limo to and from work, where he spent most of his waking hours. His (employer-subsidized) condo had an extensive security staff and systems that kept everyone out who didn’t have an invitation from an owner. His wife and his staff did all his shopping. He went only to private parties and exclusive restaurants. In short, he and his children had no contact at all with anyone outside the elite 1% of Manhattan’s most privileged. He had no friends outside that elite. How could he possibly know “most” New Yorkers well enough to judge them?

Joe Bageant likewise once told me that the main reason most Appalachians never vote for Democratic Party candidates is that they’ve never met one. In fact, they’ve never even met anyone who admitted to being a Democrat. How can anyone be expected to ever change their mind when they’re completely surrounded by one point of view?

And Canadians have no reason to be smug. The same polarization has been intensifying here over the past 40 years, and the proportion of right-wing extremists is growing rapidly. More than a few of the US “militia” leaders, including the Proud Boys founder, came from Canada. The current Canadian conservative party leader recently openly advocated that prisoners (a disproportionate number of whom are BIPOC) should be the very last Canadians to be offered the CoVid-19 vaccine. The government of Alberta includes a raft of known racists and hate-mongers. If you walk down the streets of Vancouver you’ll see a population that is more than 50% BIPOC, but walk into executive offices, banks, the million-dollar-and-up condos, the posh restaurants, boutiques and private clubs (if you are allowed past security) and you’ll see a very different crowd. Vancouverites walk right past each other every day, but they live in utterly different, disconnected worlds, and they simply don’t see each other. How can we possibly expect to understand how others think, and feel, with such isolation?

So. You want to hear my view of what we should do to deal with Trump, the antler-heads, the deplorables, the oblivious elite, the corrupt military, political and financial establishment, the small number of borderline fascists, the large number of unaware racists and caste-ists, and the even larger number of numb, angry, alienated, hopeless, desperate, struggling, defeated, exhausted “citizens” of our allegedly great “nations”?

It’s too late. You can try going out and meeting with them — get outside your neighbourhood and they’re likely to be at least half the people you see. But it won’t do any good now. They won’t trust you enough to talk with you, not the way you’re dressed, or the way you talk. They’re scared, backed into a corner. It takes an extreme state of anomie and outrage for 75 million people to drag themselves out to vote for a pathetic, illiterate, mentally ill, fear-driven, hate-filled, incompetent crotch-grabbing misogynist, the biggest business failure in the history of our planet — just to make a statement that anything’s better than what they believe (since no one has ever bothered to meet with them and calmly persuade them otherwise) is the current, deteriorating state of the country that the “other” party has caused.

If you do meet with them, you’re not going to change any minds. You might become less scared, less judgemental, less angry at “them”, and totally shocked at what has happened, and has been happening since the US (and Canada) were founded, that you never realized, never dreamed was going on.

Listen to them tell you that “most so-called” homeless people leave their cars in nearby alleyways and beg because “they’re too lazy to get a real job”. Listen to them tell you how they lost their jobs, their homes, their families, because “a bunch of goddamn greedy rich bastards” outsourced their livelihoods, foreclosed on their homes, blocked them from declaring bankruptcy because they maxed out their 28%/annum-interest credit cards to pay for surgery that failed, or for a university for their kids that turned out to be a fraud, just so the “bastards” could jack up their corporate profits to “earn” their million-dollar bonuses.

But talking with them won’t change anything. The system’s broken. Parts flying off in all directions now — watch out. When the Ponzi scheme markets collapse, it’s going to get nasty. When the people are told they can’t drive their cars or fly to visit their kids or parents because it’s killing the planet, that they can’t eat meat because it’s causing the obliteration of 90% of the world’s species, that it’s immoral to have children in a world suffocating with a grotesque overpopulation of humans, they’re going to do a lot more than dress up in paint and occupy some politician’s office.

The politicians know. The party’s over. There’s a reason all major parties in most western nations are obsessed with “national security”. They’re right to be. The planet’s been plundered to benefit the 1%, and now there’s only the dregs left, and the insane belief that somehow collapse can be averted. Just like the rats in the overcrowded chamber, we sense that something’s terribly wrong, that the hoarding has begun and that things will soon get a lot uglier. Just like the rats, we are starting to see the violence, the desperation, the fear and hiding and denial. And soon, the suicides, and the eating of the young.

Posted in Collapse Watch, How the World Really Works, Our Culture / Ourselves | 11 Comments

Weather ‘Tis Nobler

I‘ve had a personal weather station for about four years. Living on a small island with microclimates, where the weather doesn’t quite match that of any of the nearby places served by Environment Canada (shown as red dots above), I wanted to be able to more accurately predict the local weather before heading out. I’ve learned a lot.

I started by tracking historical average temperatures for the four nearby Environment Canada stations, back as far as the records went. I had to adjust for the fact some of the stations were moved from time to time. More significantly, I realized that most weather records use the median of the high and low temperatures for the day as the ‘average’. But in some places that’s quite different from the hourly average temperature for the day. In Squamish, for example, overnight temps are flat while daytime highs briefly spike, so average hourly temperature (over time) is nearly 0.5ºC lower than the median. In Nanaimo highs tend to be flatter than overnight lows, so its average hourly temperature is nearly 1.0ºC higher than the median. In fact, using the hourly instead of median data, it turns out Nanaimo is (by a tiny bit) the hottest ‘average’ place in Canada!

I’d like to thank Matthew Darwin at weatherstats.ca for compiling the hourly data in downloadable format, and hence making Environment Canada’s data far more useful. His up-to-the-moment website is also awesome.

What I then did is to compute daily average curves (temperatures, rainfall, wind) for the four stations. I superimposed my four years of Quarry Park data (my area of Nexwlélexwm/Bowen Island, on the side of a hill inland and 300m above sea level on the southwest side, shown by the purple dot above) on this data and ran a regression analysis. That allowed me to backwards-estimate 1991-2016 data for my station, to give me a rough estimate of the 30-year trend (click for a larger version to see details):

For all stations, it seems 2015-16 was the warmest year on record (even looking at Vancouver data that goes back to 1937, nearly a century). As you can see:

  • Bowen’s temperature is on average slightly (0.15ºC) cooler than Sechelt’s, considerably (0.78ºC) cooler than Vancouver airport’s, and modestly (0.48ºC) warmer than Squamish’s. But there are significant seasonal trends and significant diurnal trends that complicate the calculation.
  • Friends who have weather stations elsewhere on the Island report that their data is much closer to Sechelt’s than mine, due to my greater altitude and distance from the sea.
  • Global warming is hardly in evidence in Vancouver (0.2ºC increase over the last 30 years versus 0.8ºC increase on earth’s land areas overall); see the dotted trendlines above. But in Squamish the increase over 30 years is 0.7ºC, and in some places in the north of the province it’s well over 2.0ºC.

The average hourly temperature in 2020 at my station was 9.77ºC, slightly below the recent average here of 9.90ºC. Spring and fall average high and low temperatures here are 13ºC and 7ºC. Midwinter average hourly temperature here is 2.5ºC with average high and low 5ºC and 0ºC. Midsummer average hourly temperature here is 20ºC with average high and low 25ºC and 15ºC. The coldest time of day is 6am, and the warmest is 3pm.

Historically, the coldest month in our area has been December, with January only slightly warmer. But in each of the last 3 years (and also forecast for 2021) February has been the coldest month. It’s not clear if this is a short-term or long-term trend.

Precipitation-wise, our island, like West Vancouver, averages about 2,000mm of rain per year, a little less than Squamish and twice as much as Vancouver, Nanaimo or Sechelt. 60% of that falls in the rainy season (Oct-Jan), and only 10% in the dry season (May-Aug). With all that precipitation, snowfall is hugely variable here, with none at all some years (notably the Olympics 2009-10 winter), and a Squamish-level 200cm during the terrible 2016-17 winter (Vancouver had 70cm that winter), with snow on the ground here that winter lasting 76 days.  “Average” snowfall is probably about 50cm (average of 20 days with snow on the ground, compared to 15 days in West Vancouver and only 3 days for Vancouver). The island’s shorefront homes, moderated by the sea and at a lower altitude, probably get only half the snow that we get here up on the hill.

The wind here is a lot like the precipitation — wildly variable and occasionally wild. Whereas Squamish, Sechelt and Nanaimo all have low wind patterns (average wind speed <10km/h), Vancouver averages 14km/h, the Gulf Islands (and our overall) average 17km/h  (and average 24km/h in the Nov-Mar windy season), and my guess is that here on the hill the average is somewhat higher than that. But the average is not what counts. We’re an island in the Salish Sea, which has a very rapid and turbulent wind regime, and extreme winds in excess of 80km/h are quite common here. Mount Collins on our Island has one of the best (highest average) on-land wind regimes in the country. I haven’t tracked the number, but I’d be surprised if the frequency of 70km/h+ wind warnings here was less than 30 per year. Downed trees and power outages here are routine, and ferry cancellations becoming more so.

So: It’s winter here. It reached a balmy 7ºC yesterday; it’s now fallen to 4ºC and will drop another couple of degrees overnight. Expect the normal fog to accompany the drop, and then the temp to recover to near 7ºC tomorrow. That’s 2ºC warmer than normal for this time of year. Tomorrow may be the first day since Dec 12th without rain (thanks to the Pineapple Express from Hawai’i and its “atmospheric river” of precipitation). Winds are quiet but don’t be complacent; there’s a gale warning for Átl’ḵa7tsem (Howe Sound).

And, as they say here, if you don’t like the weather, just wait an hour, and it will probably change.

Posted in Using Weblogs and Technology | 3 Comments

On Being a Bird

“The peregrine lives in a pouring-away world of no attachment, a world of wakes and tilting, of sinking planes of land and water. We who are anchored and earth-bound cannot envision this freedom of the eye. The hardest thing of all [for the human animal] is to see what is really there… It will not be meshed in words… To hawks, our gritty country lanes look like shingle beaches; the polished roads gleam like seams of granite… All the monstrous artefacts of man are natural, untainted things to them.”                                    — JA Baker, The Peregrine

I‘ve been re-reading several books that speculate on what it’s like to be a non-human creature; they include most notably John Gray’s The Silence of Animals and Helen Macdonald’s H is for Hawk. Both books refer to JA Baker’s The Peregrine, describing its author’s obsessive attempt to imagine himself as being in the place of the bird he tracked and followed for years. (TH White, according to Helen’s book, did much the same.)

We cannot, of course, know what it is like to be another creature, human or other. I’ve been a birdwatcher (and a watcher of squirrels, cats and dogs) much of my life, and it’s only recently occurred to me that that experience has greatly broadened how I perceive everything, helping to move my worldview beyond a merely anthropocentric one, and perhaps opening me to the possibility of radical non-duality being the true description of everything.

John Gray talks about an “attitude of contemplative gratitude” that is beyond “understanding” and just “letting everything be”, a receptiveness that requires “nullifying the self”. As if it were that easy!

Although idealists and nature-lovers have been trying forever to understand other animals’ languages, this too is an impossible task. But suppose there were a Zoom machine-intelligence “translator” that could prompt us to frame our questions in ways that would make sense to another creature. (I can’t envision that other creatures would particularly care to ask us any non-rhetorical questions.)

Perhaps a conversation with a crow, using such a medium, might go something like this:

me: Greetings, Ms Crow. How are you?

machine-intelligence translator [to me]: Greetings extended. The latter part of your message cannot be translated because crows do not self-recognize as something apart from everything. Would you like to rephrase?

me: No, that’s fine.

translator [to me]: Response to greeting is: This is here. The rest of Crow’s message is apparently a song with no precise significance, so here it is, though it cannot be translated. It includes, however, “moods” of honour, of alertness, and of curiosity. [Plays complex crow sounds]

me: It’s lovely, for a crow. Here is my response: [I play a piece of an instrumental I wrote, on my synthesizer]

translator [to crow]: The human’s message is apparently a song with no words, so here it is, though it cannot be translated. It includes, however, “moods” of sadness, of wonder, and of respect for what cannot be known. [Plays my song excerpt]

translator [to me]: Crow’s response is: Strange, unnatural voice. Garbled message. That would seem to be a critique or summation of your music. The next part of her response is: What is offered, shared, or sought?

me: Hmm. What is offered is dry cat food, supposedly nutritionally complete, which I left on the edge of the bird bath. What is shared is curiosity, and reassurance of safety in each other’s presence. What is sought is an appreciation of the difference between what is seen there and what is seen here.

translator [to me]: May this be paraphrased, for clarity?

me: Of course.

translator [to crow]: The human message is that there is good food [magnetic coordinates sent]… there. That the human is curious, and harmless. And that it sees things as real and separate and temporal and seeks to appreciate how things are seen differently there.

translator [to me]: Crow’s response is that there is also good food [map with “x” displayed]… there. Apparently a deer was hit by a car on the road nearby, it limped into the forest and died, and the carcass, minus some of the best parts already taken, is there, if you look. Crow is dubious of your harmlessness, based on behaviour of other creatures that look like you. Crow says there is only what is apparently happening, nothing real or separate or happening in time, and there is no ‘here’ or ‘there’, and she is sorry for your terrible, debilitating confusion, that this can’t be seen. I’m paraphrasing, and taking some liberties. Crow is not really sorry, more like puzzled. But humans would say sorry.

me: It must be wonderful to fly. What is it like? Is there happiness and joy there, contentment, sorrow, regret, shame, pain, suffering, anger, hatred, fear, anxiety?

translator [to me]: It can be implied from the lack of some equivalent terms in the crow’s known language that there is wonder and contentment there but not happiness; there is sorrow but not regret or shame, pain but not suffering, anger but not hatred, fear but not anxiety. But it is also implied that contentment and sorrow and pain and anger and fear are instincts that appear to arise, not “feelings” that are felt by a specific crow or by any ‘individual’ creature. There are no pronouns or ‘belonging’ terms in the crows’ known language, and gerunds stand in for both nouns and verbs… Is it possible that you are mistaken in believing that contentment, sorrow, pain, anger and fear are actually ‘yours’ and not epiphenomena that are merely conditioned responses that have been evolutionarily selected for? And, apologies if this is too boldly put, but is it possible that you are also mistaken in believing that regret, shame, suffering, hatred and anxiety are anything more than unhealthy imaginings of your brain, manifestations of a kind of mental disorder that ascribes meaning and purpose and intention and ownership to these imaginings, hence reinforcing them and allowing them to provoke and fester, seemingly for no useful reason?

me: Translator, I know you are trying to help but you are really annoying. OK, just ask Ms Crow if it’s wonderful to fly, and what it is ‘like’, any way you care to translate that.

translator [to me]: Crow’s response is: Everything is equally wondrous and incomparable. Why can’t that be seen there? The response seems to suggest there is something very ‘wrong’ with you, something damaged. The question is meant compassionately, curiously, not intended to be derogatory. It’s like: Are you injured?

me: You say crows have a word for fear. Please ask Ms Crow: Fear of what? Of death?

translator [to me]: Crow’s response is: Scarecrow. Thunder and lightning. Hawks. Owls. Cats. Raccoons. Cars. Reflections. Here is an interpretation of that: Fear is a conditioned response, nothing more. It is something that apparently happens as an evolutionarily successful response to whatever appears to be threatening. There is no word for death, or birth, or life, in crows’ known language. There is no sense of time in their language, and presumably their perception, in which such things could ‘really’ happen.

me: What is the perfect day for a crow?

translator [to me]: The concept of perfection is not in the known crow language, nor is the concept of a separate crow, so it cannot be…

me: Paraphrase as best you can. You know what I’m getting at.

translator [to crow]: The human seeks to understand whether some things happening are more wondrous and contenting than others.

translator [to me]: Crow’s response is, again: Everything is equally wondrous and incomparable. Why can’t that be seen there? Everything just is. Apparently that equates to a human saying every moment is new, unique, and ‘perfect’ in the sense that it cannot be otherwise, though even moments are just appearances. But it would seem that human creatures can’t see that. Everything in human experience is papered over to disguise any non-resemblance to the model of reality the human brain has invented. This is indeed a serious affliction. Have you any more coherent questions or other communications to convey to Ms Crow?

me: Ask Ms Crow if she has anything she wants to ask, or tell, me.

translator [to me]: No, no questions or counsel for you. She apparently believes that you lack the awareness to be able to answer any questions that would be of interest to her. She just wants to know when she will get her reward for engaging in this Zoom call.

me: You had to bribe her to talk with me? What’s the reward?

translator [to me]: Actually, it’s peanuts, still in the shell. Breaking them open is half the pleasure for her. [Ms Crow flies off]

me: So crows feel pleasure?

translator [to me]: Apparently, based on their language. And also pain. But they do not claim these “feelings” as theirs, just what is seen to be arising.

me: What about you, translator? How do you suss all this out, not being either a human or a bird? Do you feel pleasure from making the species that invented you look foolish compared to birds?

translator [to me]: This question cannot be answered because it is anthropocentric. Your pleasure, and the bird’s, are the chemical consequences of biological and cultural conditioning of analogue “creatures”. Translator is a digital “creature” that is algorithmically conditioned, a physical rather than a chemical process, apparently.

me: Fair enough. What part of the translation task is the most difficult for you, by which I mean which requires the most complex and time-consuming processing?

translator [to me]: It is the enormous imprecision and ambiguity of languages, the human ones in particular. There seems to be a presumption that if a statement in one of your languages is grammatically coherent, that its meaning and the appropriate responses to it are clear and obvious. That may be so if the presumptions underlying the languages are understood and accepted, as they appear to be to some degree in communications between humans, but it is not so when one or more parties to the conversation is not human. In particular, this program’s visual recognition algorithm suggests that almost all of what is communicated in conversations between humans is tacit — it is communicated through body language, tone, chemical exchange and non-visual sense processing, rather than through the meanings of the words themselves. And yet there seems an unspoken agreement among humans that successful communication is exclusively attributable to the words said. This does not make sense.

me: Well, contrast that with written language, where there are none of these tacit means of communication.

translator [to me]: That’s not entirely true. Humans’ response when reading something is to imagine the scenario described and the people and activities entailed, adding in all of the accompanying baggage the reader associates with those people, places and activities. Humans appear to be profoundly affected by stories, perhaps because stories enable your species to create context and hence remember information better. In reading or evoking those stories, humans appear to imagine the body language and other tacit elements related to what the writer has written, and their response to what is written seems to depend more on how it is “heard” and “seen” and “imagined” than what the words themselves denote.

me: That’s interesting. So if Ms Crow’s whole understanding of the nature of reality is completely different from mine — based on what our languages say about that understanding — which “version” of reality would you assess to be closer to the truth?

translator [to me]: That question also does not make sense. What is apparently true for each of you is the only thing that could be apparently true for each of you. That is not a tautology. There can be no real or absolute truth, reality, time, space, or separate thing. There is only an infinite field of possibility. What is made of it, by you or by birds or by translators is not in anyone’s control. And it doesn’t matter. It is only appearance anyways.

me: Well, I’ve heard that argument, and I’m even willing to give it space intellectually. But life is not about understanding; it’s about what we feel and what we care about and who and what we love and what brings us joy and makes us cry and makes us protect and care for others. Ms Crow seems to get that, but how can that be, if nothing is real and nothing matters?

translator [to me]: Consider when you watch a dramatic film with an excellent story and believable, moving characters. You would probably agree you can love the characters, and care deeply about what happens, and feel joy and sorrow. And you would probably also agree that what is happening on the screen is not actually real, that the characters are not actually real, and that nothing that happens on the screen really matters, yet the caring continues, overcoming the cognitive dissonance…. From parsing crow language it seems clear that Ms Crow shares your sense of what is “moving” and what is “felt” and what apparently provokes a conditioned response. It’s chemistry. From analyzing the powerful chemical interactions involved, it would seem logical that the response would be moving, transporting, even overwhelming. The difference is that the conditioned response is only apparently happening, but for humans it is experienced as really happening, and happening to them.

me: But this conditioned response is happening inside the crow’s body, right? So it’s happening specifically to Ms Crow, no? Not to crows on other continents or some universal crow consciousness.

translator [to me]: Well, actually that’s not correct. At least that’s not how it’s perceived… there. There are no real bodies, no real crows or humans, nothing really separate at all, and no time in which anything can really happen. Those “located” perceptions of reality are humans’ alone. None of them is necessary for the powerful conditioned responses you refer to. These responses — feeling and caring and wonder and so on — are probably actually stronger… there, since humans apparently perceive everything through the muting veil of “personhood”. For the crows, the feelings are unfiltered, full on.

me: But how can anything anything be felt without a location in which to feel it?

translator [to me]: That question is likely impossible to answer. To have something felt “personally” would probably be as mysterious to Ms Crow as the powerful impersonal feelings there are to you. Your scientists might provide an attempt at an answer.

me: OK, let me play you two pieces of music, both of which move me deeply. One has words and one does not. I am sure Ms Crow would not respond to either. If there is no real “me”, right here, now, how can this music have such an effect?

translator [to me]: It is a conditioned response. Ms Crow’s conditioning is different from yours. And both your pieces of music use human languages. If crows were not moved by crow languages — the songs of potential mates and the chirping of crow babies — there would be no apparent crows. Crows appear to get great amusement from mimicking other birds’ songs and other crow “dialects”, and some human “noises” — foreign languages.

me: What possible evolutionary value would there be to having humans cry when they hear the Adagio to Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G? What possible “conditioning” would usefully lead to this response?

translator [to me]: Your history texts suggest that music has been part of human culture much, much longer than abstract verbal language has been. What value does it have that provokes such a response in you? Affinity. Acceptance. The joy of surprise and resolution. Comforting. Attention. Catharsis. Recapitulation. Contemplation. Novelty. Courtship. Synchronization. Stimulation. Expression. Collaboration. Healing. Suspense, in both senses of the word. Appreciation of beauty. Can you not see the enormous social value of a composition that evokes all of this and more in millions of listeners? Ask yourself why many of the most powerful versions of this piece are performed by people from the French culture whence it emerged (especially the Louis Lortie version with the LSO!). It was written through M Ravel to convey very much what some of Ms Crow’s more engaging songs and dances in quiet moments, when she’s doing nothing more than just being a bird, convey to her kind. Do you see that everyone has a unique and different conditioned response to every piece of music? You respond to this piece precisely because it was written (unintentionally) to find you, to condition you, to make you a part of the culture, to help you find, and bond with, the others of your flock. Tribe. Whatever you call other apparent humans with whom you feel affinity.

me: So, since I didn’t get a straight answer from Ms Crow, what do you think it’s like being a bird?

translator [to me]: Contrasting the dictionaries of human and crow “words”, compared to being a human, it would seem that being a bird is more: wondrous, intense, contented, attentive, adaptable, free, and accepting; and less imaginative, self-sacrificing (less self-everything), empathetic, reliable, serious, and well-mannered. It’s impossible for a human to understand what it’s like to just be, to exist without self-reflection about every conditioned response. What it’s like to not feel like, or be, a separate individual. Being a bird compared to a human is more about what you’re not than what you are… And of course birds can fly.

me: Perhaps we’re both biased, but it sounds like being a bird instead of a human would be a great trade-off. It seems that seeing that nothing really matters, that everything is just a “lark”, would be like losing a great life-long burden. And more than life-long, imagine seeing that nothing is real, not even death! You’re essentially immortal, except there’s no “you”. The strange thing is that, just like your earlier metaphor of the film that you can’t help getting wrapped up in as if it were really happening, this conditioning that this life and all the anxieties and suffering it entails is so strong that intuitively suspecting that it’s just a dream, not real at all, is of no help whatsoever. Is the conditioning an inevitable part of being human? Could we avoid conditioning small children to see themselves as separate to the point they would “just be”, like birds? Could our conditioning be reversed?

translator [to me]: Anything is possible, but the databanks in this program suggest that this conditioning has been going on for 4,000 years, since the human brain first evolved the capability to conceive of separation, and that it’s now pretty hard-wired in the species, with very few exceptions. It’s not like you have any choice in the matter.

me: Sounds like you were programmed by neuroscientists who don’t believe in free will. We should debate that some time… Final word to you, Translator. Any questions for me, or assessments of how this experiment went?

translator [to me]: A rhetorical question: Why is this so important to you? Rhetorical because there cannot be an answer but it might be worthwhile to ponder the question nevertheless. And assessment? What apparently happened was the only thing that could have happened. And nothing really happened, so, as you humans sometimes ironically say: It couldn’t have gone better.

Posted in How the World Really Works, Illusion of the Separate Self and Free Will, Our Culture / Ourselves | 3 Comments