Key differences between The Digital and The Real

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1.  The Digital is highly controllable (at least in theory). Even when it disobeys or behaves unpredictably, the fix seems to be but a few code tweaks away, the initiating cause human error. The Real is organically, unpredictably defiant, with free will working its magic always. Every living thing has its own idiosyncratic ‘agenda’, expectations and plans be damned.
2. The Digital is measurably precise and fully knowable, governed (in theory at least) by pure logic. The Real is irreducibly ineffable.
3. The Digital deceives, bewitches and seduces. The Real inspires profound awe and could not be more authentic, even while it deceives, bewitches and seduces (on purpose).
4. The Digital belongs to us, is in our possession, and can be infinitely adapted to our will. The Real owns us; we are at its mercy and must adapt to its vicissitudes, or perish.
5. The Digital –

Hold on, aren’t I spouting false dichotomies? Aren’t the above words, at best, an idly provocative exercise in click-bait entertainment? (Click bait? I wish!)

Or perhaps they are a playful-but-serious attempt to understand how we now have a couple of lost generations, those around 30 and under, who have grown up enjoying access to Instant Gratification. The few comparisons above bring into relief various observations we can reasonably tease out of the prevailing milieu that are not wildly off target. I believe something like the above has haunted modernity for centuries and is now doing serious damage.

In my eyes, something is going dangerously wrong for the 30s and under; I 4 1 would like to understand and appreciate as much of the causal phenomena as possible. This article is a tentative foray in that direction.

“Welcome to the desert of the real.”

That’s a (digital) meme. I am composing this text (digitally) on a laptop to be shared soon (digitally) across the internet. All digital, all convenient, all easy peasy and isn’t it lovely all this sharing! But are we (irredeemably) spoiling ourselves with Easy Peasy and instant gratification of our ephemeral desires? Have we spoilt ourselves too much this time? 

To balance the above somewhat, how enlightened, how well informed, have we become?

It depends. Certainly it’s both-and.

The internet is an impossibly vast ocean of every conceivable kind of visual and auditory delight: entertainment; trickery, sobriety, deception, and honesty; science, entertainment and news; delusions of grandeur, unintended and blisteringly open honesty; kittens; the monstrous and the beautiful; self-indulgent victimhood and virtue signalling, and so on. We are so spoilt for choice we could browse forever and a day and barely make a dent on the content yet to be consumed. The day after that we’d still feel restless and empty, empty and unwanted. 

Into what strange paradise have we progressed ourselves? A digital paradise of Ultimate Convenience and high-saturation colours, the next thrill or delight or shock a mere click or swipe away. We consume content, we create content: we spend our attention, we clamour for attention. Doesn’t it feel like something is missing, something very important, something frustratingly hard to define, bottle, mass produce, and control? It feels that way to me.

Am I a luddite curmudgeon, you ask? Actually, I kind of love the internet, computing, programming, all that. However, as with any tool, The Digital can be abused, and in being abused, abuse. As you do unto Other, so you do unto Self. We have progressed ourselves into a miraculous toolshed whose power we understand but dimly. Our dim understanding undermines us unseen … partially unseen.

The Digital is powerful. It is in some ways technology’s latest and greatest armoury, and as such entices humanity’s best and brightest to pursue wealth, power, and immortality ensconced within it. Power tends to corrupt, absolute power corrupts absolutely (Lord Acton said that). Fake news and deep fakes belong to humanity now. Movies look utterly convincing, but all they seem to do is bang our bucks into fireworks of glittering spectacle that sometimes become story – as an afterthought almost –, but mostly do not. And when the lights go back on, we wonder, dimly, what remains that we can still trust. Restless and empty, empty and unwanted, it seems like our one remaining ‘power’ is maintaining peace of mind until the next distracting fix can be found. Our abilities in this regard seem to be quickly deserting us.

What’s that gnawing doubt I can’t quite dispel? Have we left something important behind, some ineffable equivalent of smell, taste, caress?

I’ve been musing of late that ‘community’ (whatever that is) might not be The Answer. Indeed, I’m convinced The Answer is not the answer. Looking for such, as variously as we have done, seems to have progressed us here. Persisting with that search continues to lead astray.

Community is to me a complex social context in which humans existentially rely on their fellow community members, people they know very well indeed. Community evolves organically as a result of very intimate life-and-death interdependencies that are the natural expression of human beings, that very social creature. Community is thus, fundamentally, a stranger-free zone. 

The internet, on the other hand, is a ‘community’ of consumable experiences created in concert with other humans who are (almost) all physical strangers to us; it is a stranger-rich zone in which no one really relies on anyone else, at least not existentially. All the other members of this new ‘community’ are deliciously, bitterly replaceable. 

Are we steadily rendering impossible any chance of a return to a situation in which we do rely on each other intimately and existentially? If that is what is needed for community to be community, what might be the costs of fervently trying to recreate the conditions from which true community can evolve?

On the other hand, if the future continues to be more of today – just more intensely –, in how bad a state of affairs are we? How far are we drifting from what is biologically, or organically, appropriate to humanity?

As part of the answer, is it a valid argument to observe, “I look around and see lost, depressed young people almost everywhere”? Or is it more valid to point at the alarming growth of the antidepressants market? Or the drugs designed to ameliorate hyperactive children? For those who’ve looked into this sort of thing, as for those with children of their own, this is familiar but troubling territory. Surely, in light of both our intuitive impressions and research on such matters, it’s not overly dramatic of me to ask whether something is going dangerously wrong.

If it is a Brave New World we are headed for, do we know what we’re doing?

Fundamental error?

While I’m confident some part of our predicament is the pace of technological change clashing with our far slower rates of cultural and biological adaptation, I suspect it’s fair to say that some of what ails us is rooted in fundamental error. Being fundamental, this is error that intrinsically demands correction; it eats at us from within. Some of the quality of our error is, in my view, reflected in the (surface) differences between The Digital and The Real hacked out into the foreground above. And I assert this specifically as someone who argues that The Real (organic, analog) is composed of The Digital (incorrectly understood by most as mechanical, binary); The Digital, I argue, is in fact organic: neither mechanical nor binary, possibly ternary, certainly mysteriously complex. Likely, that’s quite a confusing confession for you. 

Well, I aim to please.

The Digital percolates up to, or manifests into, our field of perception through particular analytical filters that affect our perception as we try to make sense of reality in particular (mechanical/computational) contexts. And yet The Digital we have thus perceived into existence is not, as a consequence of this filtering, outright illusion; it’s just not the whole story. The mythical 0 and 1 of the binary world, though seemingly very literal and ‘real’ when rendered on a page or screen, depict – not are – foundational yes-no decision-making processes, or logical-gate operations that are nevertheless not as foundational as we might think. There are no actual, physically existing 0s and 1s. Different phenomena are leveraged to act as true-false, yes-no, 0-1 binary elements to run systems built atop such logic-driven procedures. And it is all just as ‘real’ as anything else, like all information, but not ultimately foundational. Not until, that is, we add in the missing ingredient: the ineffable.

Nor are 0s and 1s indivisible atoms, nor can physics find any bits of matter or stuff that are finally indivisible (atomic). The search for an Indivisible Something yields “virtual” entities that defy full understanding (quarks and other sub-sub-atomic phenomena) that are co-existent with an array of interdependent forces and rules all required simultaneously for anything – for thingness – to be possible at all. The search for foundational building blocks has instead unearthed webs of information (mathematical rules) that are anything but indivisible lego bricks that can be reduced no further. It’s will-o’-the-wisps all the way down, where each one of which dissolves as soon as you isolate it (notionally) into the palm of your mind’s eye. 

Nothing makes sense in isolation. Or at least, not for very long, nor ever in some complete manner.

This string of non-controversial observations, for me, hints at the organic foundational underpinning of The Digital. Part of our civilisational exploration into the nature of reality has given us The Digital (in fact centuries ago). The way we peer into the nature of reality determines to some unknowable degree what we discover. The journey is the destination, the means are the ends. The Digital is no exception: Way become Goal, unexamined Mindset become Paradigm. The Digital is a useful, powerful, helpful paradigm or perspective, but not the whole story, and not in fact the ultimate foundation, which is, in my view, ineffable. The Digital thus has its roots in the ineffable and could not persist uprooted from it … cannot be uprooted from it.

(There is nothing but God. Everything is God.)

A car appears to be a purely mechanical entity, but it emerged from the organic and is inescapably subject to it, embedded in it, made of it. Each ‘identical’ car that comes off the production line – even if no human hand touched any part of it during its manufacture – faces a unique destiny. It will be subjected to different owners, be driven every single time on a unique, impossible-to-repeat journey, endure unique moments while parked wherever, each moment impossible to repeat. All cars, all manufactured things – be they pencil sharpeners, razor blades or Jumbo Jet cockpits – emerge from the organic, remain forever in the organic, and are inescapably subject to it. 

The same thing goes for computers, software, tiny little bits of code, everything. It is not possible to separate The Digital from The Real in an ultimate way. Notionally, yes, to a degree, and it is helpful to do so, but the separation achieved is just notional.

(Everything is God. There is nothing but God.)

Just as a thought is of consciousness but is not itself conscious, just as it is finally impossible to fully appreciate consciousness and spirit, so The Digital must always escape our grasp and produce unintended consequences our wisdom will never be able to anticipate. Our pseudo-mastery of this powerful set of tools far exceeds our grasp of its ramifications and meanings. 

We leap forward technologically in mighty bounds, but the great acceleration of our advance is breaking us apart. We are puppets yanked this way and that on the strings of our invention. We are dazed and dizzy, lost and soul-sick, but, strangely, can hardly tell this is so; everyone around us is, more or less, in the same condition. Only if we were to pop back in time, say to the early Middle Ages, would our manic state of being become discernible to us. Potentially, anyway; we would need to be there long enough to truly internalise the stark differences, then pop back to the present day and be horrified.

Now what? 

At whom or at what do we point the finger of blame? Where is the cause of our predicament that is simple, weak compared to us, and rectifiable?

Nowhere. No one and nothing is to blame. This is a very very difficult and involved situation. 

Decisions are investments in the future. Our willingness and ability to change course – should a course change be needed – is directly proportional to the amount of effort and energy the required course change would consume. And we tend to drift into our decisions, which takes very little energy: the infamous slippery slope so many of us reflexively prefer. So regardless of any morality or ideology we might impute to a situation, we become emotionally invested in How Things Are simply because changing them is most often an almighty undertaking. That very emotionality then becomes entangled in some ideology or other, which is itself also an investment born of hundreds of tiny ‘decisions’ that produced it, such that the inertial resistance to change grows over time. Despite the fact that nothing lasts forever.

Such is our entanglement with The Digital, and our modern disaffection with The Real. Such are the deeps roots and the deep soil of this false dichotomy.

My sense of what we can do in the meantime, is that the best we’ve got is noticing, talking about what we notice, taking small measures to meaningfully slow ourselves down, switch off, share with each other how the differences between the Infinite Cornucopia of The Digital compare to the Infinite Cornucopia of The Real, and learn how to really feel the beauty and mind-boggling complexity of the latter. The Real tends to seem drab and slow to gadget-addled minds, frustrates with its vital refusal to submit to our whims, always goes its own recalcitrant way, makes a mess of everything, makes our efforts seem puny and pointless. Learning how to see it with more open eyes, with humility, to feel, appreciate and then love it is one part of how to compensate for the breakneck speed with which modernity keeps bursting out of itself – ever forwards and wilfully blind to the past – into ever more spectacular iterations of itself, without ever really ‘nourishing’ anything other than our manufactured hunger for yet more intensity, yet more saturation, yet more stimulation and (entraining) entertainment.

To repeat, this is a very difficult situation. We had best make our peace with this fact. History is bigger and badder than ever, globally interconnected nations and corporations and organisations and habits of thought and academia and media and all of it are incapable of sufficient decoupling to escape history and go it alone, while we individuals, we fish in history’s violently undulating waters, are stuck to it all, embedded as constitutionally in All That Is as words woven into an incredible story. 

But “make peace” does not mean to accept the decadent insanity, it suggests we moderate our expectations. There is most assuredly a Better Way – probably several of them. However, what lies between now and then will be determined microscopically by our individual efforts at peace of mind, at mindfulness, at love and wisdom as they pertain to how we treat each other, in humility, and so discover in the warm lights of our healthy skepticism, courage and openness what this Better Way might be.

Murderer of calm

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow / Out of this stoney rubbish? Son of man, / You cannot say, or guess, for you know only / A heap of broken images – T. S. Eliot, The Waste Land

This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing in from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such a violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress. – Walter Benjamin, On the Concept of History

Introduction

For how much longer must we poor Westerners endure this ever-intensifying turbulence? Change is now so fast, and so profound, reduction of our confusion and fear – as the storm pushes us closer to the edge – feels like an existential need. My own emotional-psychological state craves people who deliver a sense of calm, of balance, of stability. Noticing this as a ‘peculiarity’ of these Interesting Times, I note too, on reflection, that it was always this way – is always this way – though less strikingly in calmer times.

Any supporter of my calm becomes a champion of that calm. Those who provide this essential service must therefore deliver perfect analyses; my need for calm demands it; any slip in rhetoric, any weakness of logic threatens my equilibrium, now fragile and taut. By extension, any criticism of my carefully chosen champions likewise threatens the calm I crave. Criticism is thus emotionally impermissible. 

Caught up in this dynamic of reflexive and fevered construction of those trenches we deem surest for our sanity and survival, ideology can become an unnoticed uniform we don to identify those others who will help us improve our chances, while we identify and do battle with all enemies that threaten it. 

In times of unending uncertainty, fear rules, and understandably so; we’re only human. Uni-Form, one shape, one mind, total: totalising fear dividing and conquering as it stalks the land.

And we are exhausted. What is not in crisis? The breakdown of categories underway all around has sent me from pillar to post, and back again, more times than I care to count. I don’t want to be an ideologue. I don’t want any ideology to have me in its clutches. I don’t want to be left or right wing, or anything other than free and humble in thought and deed. But I do so want peace of mind! Which, clearly, is a very hard thing to sustain solo, especially when that which threatens is as far from my power to control as it is possible to be: History.

So choose a side, likeminded Worrior [sic], and man the ramparts!

History murders calm sometimes. This time, in the 2020s, more divisively, explosively, rapidly and thoroughly than ever before. At least, that’s my dramatic sense of it. I wish I could call it exhilarating. Soul-sickening is closer to the mark.

In my fear and uncertainty and surrounded by the fear and uncertainty of others,  I incessantly revisit and reexamine my position. In addition to noticing my human need for calm and peace of mind, I notice too how my perspective and habits of thought are gradually altered by any material I imbibe. Slowly, I become a proponent (ideologue) of that in which I am currently immersed, and lose sight of the humility such times as these so sorely need. 

This article examines how we might make mindful allowances to ameliorate this process. It is dialogue we need, not tyrannical diktat from on high, or aimed at each other. To effect meaningful dialogue, we must familiarise ourselves with our own inner tyrants so as to become more effective at calming the tyrannical beast in those who (seem to) oppose us.

What are the roots that clutch?

There’s a storm blowing from Paradise, that’s how Walter Benjamin saw it. In Eastern philosophies, however, it is not Paradise that describes reality’s root, but Being itself: a neutral, indissoluble fact from which proceeds All That Is. Westerners typically seem more romantic and nostalgic in their character, see something virginal, clean, and ideal as reality’s Ur-State, its uncaused Initial Condition, and then go on to find everything else wanting by contrast. 

A Westerner myself, my own sensibilities are of this quality. I am a romantic battling valiantly to become a Humble Seeker After Truth, while romantically engaged in that undertaking as if a knight on a Grail quest. Seeing as humility is the quality I perceive as most essential to this task, I accept the need to kill all my darlings, to slay the doe-eyed dragon romance is, to clear my eyes sufficiently that I may know the Grail when she stands before me. Without true humility, how can we distinguish truth from lies, deceptions, untruths? For no matter the origin of deception, though perhaps especially when its origin is oneself, wisdom is, in part, knowing how to keep what is true in focus regardless of historical and personal circumstances. A romantic character surely undermines wisdom by its nostalgic attachment to cherished things. Humility is surely the best antidote, for only it can sustain a mind properly aware of the influence of its own beliefs, opinions and preferences.

Perhaps humility requires strong roots above all else. Perhaps roots stabilise us enough to give humility a chance to flourish. As we strip ourselves of that which we idly cherish in pursuit of true nobility of spirit, we suffer pain, disorientation, regret. To weather such trials, we need to know how to plant our roots in good soil. In other words, we need to identify and accept sound fundamentals, and to recognise and reject the “broken images” that lead us astray.

Well, what are those sound fundamentals? We’ll start by probing some earthly possibilities.

Three earthly possibilities

1. Money: It makes the world go around, and waged labour is its engine

Source (Jeff Snider, Eurodollar University)

Over the last three decades or so, the percentage of the available US workforce actually in work has never reached even 66%, and is currently at around 60%. One could argue this equates to a US ‘unemployment rate’ of 35-40% over the last 30 years! And yet despite this eye-watering ‘unemployment rate’ (unused labour), there is no shortage of goods, no starvation, no Great Depression. Life is good, materially speaking. Why even the poor are fat and happy in the US of A! Of course manufacturing of tech, automotive, and white goods happens overseas, primarily in China, but nowadays the percentage of any nation’s workforce needed to manufacture all these goods is low and getting lower: technological advance proceeds apace, increasingly so, as automation (now with AI) continues to make its presence felt. 

Yes, technological unemployment is a real thing, though obviously somewhat mitigated by the services sector, consumerism, and state-based employment, not to mention the money’s systemic need for waged labour.

My phrase for the corrosive effects of technological unemployment (“TE”) is this: “Humans don’t need humans economically like we used to.” If I am right and waged labour is needed for today’s money systems to operate stably, the gradual effects of TE – a societal pressure steadily transforming how we need each other – means we need a profound cultural evolution in how we ‘measure’ and relate to value itself, something I have argued often.

Now please imagine how far below 60% the employment-population ratio would fall were there no consumerism, no advertising, and consequently all goods were built to last. What would such a world look like, economically speaking? And then ask yourself whether consumerism and advertising are foundational requirements, without which humans could never be happy or content.

Could money be one of the foundations we’re looking for?

2. Historical momentum: The world is global and getting globaler

The West is in obvious demise, and the non-Western world agitates to occupy the West’s vacated spaces, albeit fitfully. Meanwhile and as usual, all nations and peoples remain joined at their economies in great and increasing complexity. National economies must fit together to a significant degree for trade to be adequately efficient to eke out needed profit margins, and, in theory at least, to be mutually beneficial. 

By extension, then, when a major nation’s GDP suffers, likely all people globally suffer along with it to some degree. Further, while TE is potent in its effects primarily where technology has advanced and can continue to advance, where it has not and still cannot its effects are nonetheless felt due to disadvantageous national technological disparities on the one hand, and on the other downstream suffering from Western TE and other demand-suppressing factors (of which see more below).

Can any nation escape history’s powerful, interlocking momenta? The oft attractive idea of national autonomy is currently experiencing something of a resurgence in several countries, but how viable a pathway out of what ails us might this be? If, through technological means, a nation were able to decouple from fossil fuels, build vertical farms and produce enough of all foods for its population, not to mention enough white goods, automobiles, telephony and communications gadgetry, etc., would it then master the deep challenge of technological unemployment? And how many nations could accomplish such a feat? Further, what economic and geopolitical turbulence would this unleash and how would that turbulence disrupt those very efforts at achieving self-sufficiency? 

I don’t know the answer of course, but a resurgent Donald Trump (and even RFK Jr), the AfD in Germany, to a lesser degree Georgia Meloni in Italy, more significantly Farage in the UK with his fightback against having been debanked by Coutts/NatWest, the Farmer’s Party in Holland, Putin’s now very self-sufficient Russia, and no doubt other nations, all seek to varying degrees to decouple from certain global interdependencies – become more self-sufficient – while forming new types or qualities of alliance and partnership (BRICS++) to counterbalance their remaining economic/geopolitical weaknesses. These developments represent a mighty geopolitical upheaval that is gaining in force.

We can view this interconnectivity from another angle. Global lockdowns (with too few national exceptions) – that bizarre, hysterical experiment on all human society – was as a giant asteroid striking the ocean of the global economy. The resultant waves are still mighty, still turbulent, still radiating out and changing everything in their wake. And this on top of the ravages of The Fourth Industrial Revolution outlined above. 

The inflation that has bedevilled the West of late is the result of: lockdown-caused supply shocks, The West’s xenophobic and cynically avaricious attitude to Russia, its ‘elite’ and professional-managerial hubris and stubborn sense of entitlement, and lockdown-driven over-stimulation of Western economies, all of it into the teeth of the technology-driven turbulence touched on in point 1. Consequently, when China finally ended its insane zero-covid policy to great expectations, it proved too little. We see no robust recovery of global economic activity, let alone of China’s; as argued, all nations are joined at the economy (evidence below from Jeff Snider’s Eurodollar University YouTube channel):

Together, these charts tell a tale of diminishing global demand, but, more importantly perhaps, how enmeshed in each other’s economic successes and failures the nations of the world have become. They suggest the global system has every nation in its grip. The question this begs is an obvious one: Who has the global system in their grip? A second might be: Is the “global system” a distinct and knowable entity that can be in anyone’s grip? After all, history’s powerful interlocking momenta move where they will, and we are all, tiny and mighty alike, blown about by their winds.

Historical momentum is indeed mighty, but its wild gyrations tell us all we need to know: it is not foundational, just inevitable once civilisation is up and running.

3. Banking: The more globally interlocked nations become, the more power banks demand to keep our global Ship of State afloat

We tend to establish the equivalence with cash, and there is a huge difference there. For example, in cash we don’t know, for example, who’s using a 1,000 dollar bill today, we don’t know who’s using a 1,000 peso bill today. A key difference with the CDBC [Central Bank Digital Currency] is the Central Bank will have absolute control [of] the rules and regulations that will determine the use of that expression of Central Bank liability [aka money]. And also, we will have the technology to enforce that. Those two issues are extremely important, and that makes a huge difference with respect to what cash is. – Agustín Carstens, General Manager of the Bank of International Settlements

It is authority alone which is the true and unique power of law. Compulsion is only an expedient to which one takes recourse in order to remedy a lack of authority. Where there is authority […], there compulsion is superfluous. – Anonymous, Meditations on the Tarot, 1972 (2019), transl. Robert Powell, pp77-79.

Commercial and central banks across the world are pushing CDBCs as if their lives depend on it. To my eyes, of the types of people we might group together as the professional-managerial class, its subset of bankers would be the most exemplary. One of their leading lights, Mr Carstens (pictured above), is quite clear about why CDBCs are their current darling: Banks “will have the technology to enforce” spending behaviours they approve, and inhibit those they frown upon. 

In two words: TOTAL. CONTROL. 

Despite Carstens’ openly expressed ambition to seize tyrannical control of the world, I argue the following (as a conspiracy theorist!): I don’t think bankers reach for this power cynically, nor even primarily with greed in their hearts; witness Agustín’s earnest-teddy-bear features! I feel he bureaucratically expresses what is natural to him professionally, but not evilly. It is surely non-controversial that bankers’ group-based or collective darlings are also children of bureaucracy: measurement, hard data, predictability, stability, control. Controlling the Wilds Out There, taming the madness of crowds, managing animal spirits and gyrating markets are thus to them High Goods. Whole societies depend on bankers’ competence and expertise. Governments of every possible hue come and go, but banking is the mountain range that stands tall through human history implacable, resolute, dependable! They are that state of the world more permanent than the now infamous Permanent State; they are the very bedrock on which civilisation stands.

This depicts something foundational, but it’s a veneer. The bureaucratic ‘soul’ that cannot see living human beings, that must instead see statistics to analyse and problems to rectify, seeks to make us its puppets. What value can free will have, or the pursuit of wisdom, or self discovery through devotion to higher truths? In bureaucracy’s calculus it must surely equal zero.

Yes, of course, those of us not privy to the data central bankers amass and analyse – now including data harvested from our social-media blurts and rants –, those of us not of the right character to man ships as complex and unwieldy as nation states, multinational corporations and international organisations may well moan and protest about how unfair it all is – such is only natural to our class –, but we ordinary folk cannot know what needs to be done, nor, if we did know, would we have the stomach to do anything about it. It just isn’t in us.

So they will ignore our protests, as is ‘right’ for them to do, and push on with what must be done.

From the tension between bureaucratic and unaccountable overlords, and us normal folk, all manner of historical momenta flow. To return to the point I raised in the introduction; I read Mr Carstens’ words and want to fight that which he champions, just as I have been fighting this obsession with Total Control since about 2010. Albeit very fitfully. 

But more and more I wonder which of my darlings I need to kill, which of my own Champions of Calm I must abandon to see more clearly. I mean, I still have to make a buck every now and then, right? And there – oh boy! – is the rub.

We are back to money, which, if my reasoning above is sound, cannot really be considered a fundamental. However, there is something about the constancy of banking as an institution that enables the trading that creates and brings nations together, which in turn is the stuff of historical momenta, that strongly seems foundational – inevitable to civilisation. Does this make the above two possibilities foundational, too? I’m really not sure. This is one difficulty of analysing phenomena in isolation; it always produces misleading findings.

So are our granite-grey technocratic overlords right in their ambitions? Does their lofty perspective – afforded by unimaginable amounts of data and IT wizardry we can but dream of – present them with a picture of sufficiently accurate detail and nuance to justify their impending control over all we do? 

Perhaps not. Perhaps something deeper is afoot, something truly foundational that lies beneath civilisation. 

But I would say that, wouldn’t I! In my case, it’s not bureaucratic control that motivates; pursuit of wisdom is my folly, my lonely calling. I see things very differently to the bankers and other professional-managerial people of this world.

The desire that rises in my heart in response to the above three (asserted) fundamentals is to penetrate beyond the earthly, the ‘dismal’, the ‘data-driven facts’ (whose data, interpreted using whose models and assumptions?), a desire fed and fired by the observation that the professional-managerial class have been screwing things up royally for a long time now. They too are human, after all. And all they have left nowadays, it strongly seems to me, is perception management, NLP, and behavioural nudging (increasingly behavioural bludgeoning). That, and heaps of money and power.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had about enough of this crap.

Non-earthly fundamentals

It’s the non-earthly that riles people. Most just don’t want to admit it into their calculus, especially when times are as tense as they are now. It’s certainty we crave, peace of mind, not unmoored speculation on ontology and God!

However, my central point is this: fear hyper-accelerates and stiffens us – sustained too long it plunges us in panic. We flail around for something solid, at the societal level it leads to authority figures who tell us what we want to hear. We have seen how ugly that can get, both in recent history and, in my view, today.

I know the need well; this age-old dynamic is the focus of the introduction above. But though most often we think we shouldn’t, though most often the very idea of admitting the non-earthly into our calculations threatens to invite in woo-woo and wishful thinking, it remains true that developing our inner stillness, improving the sobriety of our thought and building robust balance into our emotional-psychological state are the surest routes to a genuine and lasting transformation – not just of us as individuals, but of society as a whole. This cannot be accomplished scientifically, nor can it be mandated, legislated, or taught.

My sense is that we can only mature into true adulthood once we have welcomed both the earthly and the non-earthly into our being; wisdom, that other exquisite immeasurable, is what adulthood is all about. When we remain as children throughout our lives, our societies will remain childish too: volatile, needy, easily divided and conquered – the perfect playground for tyrants, where tyranny itself is an infantile relationship with power. Eternal vigilance, the price of liberty, can only be sustained by a society of adults; the eternally childish (I do not mean young at heart) cannot handle freedom wisely. Instead, it’s FreeDumb they demand, and with it the distracting pleasures of consumerism that are its empty heart.

In the image I chose to head this section, a snail sits almost dead centre on a painting my eldest daughter and her friends created many years ago. We are about to throw it away; it’s been waiting beside our front door for us to take to the bin. But then, lo, a snail became the final touch! Nature completed the painting, and I was moved by this happy accident to use a photograph of the event for this article. Now strangers will see this ‘art’ and perhaps ponder the meaning of its backstory. 

Was all of this predictable from the Big Bang? If we could account for every single detail, could the sequence of events that led to me posting this article, with this image and these exact words, each have been precisely predicted from the moment of the Big Bang? 

No way. No matter how all-inclusive our data gathering, no matter how accurate our models and methods for making predictions based on that data, we will never be able to predict everything. 

Why on earth not? Because reality is not mechanical, and this ‘fact’ is of fundamental importance. This is not a mere frippery for salon, academic or religious pontification; if we have our foundations wrong, all subsequent calculations will produce errors. It is thus highly advisable that we get our foundations right.

For example, how should we value – that word again! – this “Snail, the Artist” story? (Note we tend to be underwhelmed by predictable stories.) Pondering value in this very particular context, is it not right to ask how fundamental to reality value itself is? 

If reality is fundamentally mechanical, value is a very downstream phenomenon, and obviously of mechanical origins (to me an impossibility).

If reality is fundamentally organic, or living, or of God, value – in essence subjective reactions to perceived phenomena – becomes foundational.

Which is why I chose possible economic fundamentals for the earthly variety, rather than those of physics or chemistry. I wanted to draw our attention to value again, that exquisitely subjective thing. Economics asserts it has identified societal processes that objectively measure value, namely those of market-based price discovery. This is a powerful discovery (or identification) that itself has much value, and yet it is a particular type of value (exchange) rooted in particular societal conditions that are each mutually fundamental to the very economics that studies scarce resources clashing with infinite human demand, and how the resultant tension is handled by homo economicus. 

But its foundational assumptions are rooted in civilisation, not reality itself. Humans are far more complicated than the economics caricature homo economicus, scarcity is in fact in the eye of the beholder – look at how important advertising is –, and humans are not vessels of infinite demand. Lots of demand, yes, but not infinite; that’s too colourful, too provocative a word for the dismal science. Economics’ foundational assumptions are thus erroneous, which means the calculations and methodologies erected upon them are likewise erroneous, or at best temporarily applicable in a limited way. 

Which is not to say, of course, it’s all without value. Money, markets, price and the economics that describes and examines them are real phenomena rooted in the reality of civilisation. But things change. Not only do civilisations come and go (250 years per experiment on average), technological development is cumulative, despite (and because of!) the consistency of money and its valuable influences across civilisational time.

Cumulative change – what else – has led us to our current set of epochal challenges, each of which feeds into each of the others to form a dynamic web, an ‘organic’ constellation of factors that apply inexorable and unceasing pressure on existing institutions and power structures. Primary among these factors are:

1. No elite is wise or intelligent enough to handle societal complexity as it now stands, even (especially?) with the advent of AI. The professional-managerial class, no matter how expert, cannot be up to the task.

2. Money and power tend to corrupt, and we are highly corruptible beings, especially while infantilised. Corruption corrodes society wherever it takes hold. Money accumulated is power accumulated.

3. Consumerism is neither a High Good, nor a fundamental without which civilisational life could not function. Neither is economic growth as currently understood, neither is advertising.

4. Biospheres have a carrying capacity, very difficult to calculate, but there as a constraint to one degree or another. I don’t mean this in a Malthusian sense – humans are endlessly inventive – but more in the sense of a Law, like gravity, that must be taken into account to some extent. Besides, abusing everything around us cannot produce endlessly good outcomes.

5. The scientific method is pivotal but has limited applicability; there is far more to reality than that which can be measured. We should make best efforts at a kind of generalised humility in this and all other regards such that openness and skepticism are culturally familiar to, and appreciated by, all of us. As we begin to notice that Western civilisation has fallen prey to the religion of Scientism and its asinine mantra “Follow The Science”, so spaces open that slowly generate a cultural thirst for Something New.

6. Technology advances cumulatively and thus accelerates over time. Watershed developments are disruptive to existing institutions. Robotics, automation and AI, as part of the information revolution, are about as disruptive as it gets; they are crumbling the foundations of modern orthodox economics and power politics as that percentage of a population needed to manufacture and provide us with both necessities and luxuries steadily shrinks. Humans don’t need humans economically as we once did. Which means we need to learn to need each other in some other way. Or handle wisely this dangerously seductive possibility: we don’t need each other all that much any more. Robot slaves will take care of it.

7. Power and control are seductive illusions. Life will always slip out from under our attempts to control it.

Given the above (limited) list, which I hope includes the major facets of a broader organic constellation working its magic on us all, it is hardly surprising that historical turbulence is mightily afoot, that power players are jostling for position as they variously interpret the writing on the wall. Conspiring is part of this; ignorance, fear and incompetence are part of this; ego is part of this. Outcomes are not predictable in detail, though they are perhaps somewhat predictable in general outline. 

So there is no comforting certainty to be found anywhere externally; these are difficult times one way or the other. To return to the question at hand: What are folk like me to do? 

Try to fear a little less, try to dehumanise others less to learn how to see things from other people’s point of view. Learn how strength and confidence are soils for the humility that is itself the soil needed for strength and confidence to blossom. And learn, experience, taste how all such processes work together to advance us in our wisdom, our capacity for love. 

The way out is not escape – there is none –; more beneficial outcomes will be the reward of a different kind of engagement with history and environment, of a new way of being in The System that introduces fresher, more vital perspectives on value, wisdom, love, consciousness and, yes, the nature of reality, which is organic and vital. All this to prepare good soil for the necessary redistribution of power away from the ‘elite’ professional-managerial class and its institutions, down to a more individual granularity as far as is practicable and healthy. Away from the broken images of mechanistic nihilism, technocratic bureaucracy and scientistic hubris. This is the healthier vector for the fourth industrial revolution. The far less healthy vector is towards Panopticon Planet run by bankers and intelligence agencies on behalf of mega-corporations nudging (bludgeoning) our behaviours along lines they deem best from their lofty, patrician disdain.

For me, the change here is my tentative but strengthening conviction that there is no outside The System from which to accomplish this. Only dialogue and exchange can bring the healthier vector to prominence.

Finally, we must accept, as happily as we can, that this undertaking is not easy at all.

There can never be certain success; success cannot be measured, it is an organic outcome of how we interact with ourselves and others that must remain adaptively wise and resolutely humble. And while we all like hearing that this or that external solution will deliver prosperity and peace, on the whole it’s up to us to do our bit with whatever courage and wisdom we can bring to the table. We all have a part to play in preparing our many cultural soils for the new roots we need to put down, but can never know the value of our role in full detail. With luck, we will get to feel that value as we become more accomplished at being healthy contributors to the whole. 

In the world there are therefore two different kinds of arriving at a conviction: one can be illumined by the serene clarity of contemplation, or one can be swept away by an electrifying flood of passionate arguments aiming at a desired end. The faith of the illuminated is full of tolerance, patience and calm steadfastness […] [The] faith of those who are swept away is, in contrast, fanatical, agitated and aggressive – in order to live it needs conquests without end, because it is conquest alone which keeps it alive. The faith of those who are swept away is greedy for success, this being its reason for existence, its criterion and its motivating force. Nazis and communists are of this faith, i.e. that of those who are swept away. True Christians and true humanists can only belong to the other faith, i.e. that of the illuminated. – Anonymous, Meditations on the Tarot, 1972 (2019), transl. Robert Powell, pp271-272 (emphases in original)

Wise up, humanity!

 

There’s something profoundly disheartening about the politics of our countries right now. The deep madness, I’m afraid, is British imperial thinking that has been taken over by the United States. My country, the United States, is unrecognisable now compared to even 20 or 30 years ago. I’m not sure – to tell you the truth – who runs the country; I do not believe it is the President of the United States right now. We are run by generals, by our security establishment. The public is privy to nothing. The lies that are told about foreign policy are daily and pervasive by a mainstream media that I can barely listen to or read any more. The New York Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal and the main television outlets are 100% repeating government propaganda by the day, and it’s almost impossible to break through.

What is this about? Well, as you’ve heard, it’s about a madness of the United States to keep US hegemony, a militarised foreign policy dominated by the thinking of generals who are mediocre intellects, personally greedy, and without any sense, because their modus operandi is to make war. And they are cheerled by Britain, which is unfortunately, in my adult life, increasingly pathetic in being a cheerleader for the United States, for US hegemony, and for war. Whatever the United States says, Britain will say it 10 times more enthusiastically. The UK leadership could not love the war in Ukraine more. It’s the Great Second Crimean War for the British media and for the British political leadership.
– Professor Jeffrey Sachs in a 5 July 2023 speech to SHAPE (Saving Humanity and Planet Earth). Hat tip to Alexander Mercouris

Introduction

I watch on in growing hope as establishment figures from the highest levels of society slowly morph into “conspiracy theorists”. Of course they would not call themselves that, but those invested in and thus loyal to establishment (aka ‘mainstream’) narratives would not hesitate to label them so. RFK Jr., US presidential hopeful, currently doing surprisingly well in the polls, strikes me as an honourable man on a journey quite similar to the one Professor Sachs is walking. Both are men with open minds, a clear positive that, nowadays, will quickly get you labelled “conspiracy theorist”. And that the knives are now clearly out for Biden tells us The West knows Biden cannot win. With no one viable to replace Biden, and with RFK Jr. playing the independent-media circuit with aplomb, Kennedy may well be the next President of the United States.

In times of historical decadence, it seems, dark ambitions kept hidden – because not quite ready for prime time, because still held somewhat in check by institutions established to that end – are suddenly forced into the open by a combination of hubris, ignorance, and event-driven desperation. Conspiring is but one facet of this revelatory process, incompetence another. How to precisely weigh the relative importance of each – and other factors – is beyond my pay grade, though I do hope to appeal to your hearts by drawing attention to interconnections between the bleeding obvious but wilfully ignored, the not-so obvious, and the mysterious.

In that vein, this article is a counterbalance to my previous musing.

A blitzkrieg recap of recent times

The seven most amazing events of my life: 

1. Because of a virus, the constitution is suspended and an emergency regime of curfews and general psychological terror is established.

2. Anyone who questions this state of affairs is no longer a citizen, but a “Schwurbler” [transl. someone who talks rubbish, used synonymously with “conspiracy theorist”], or even a Nazi.

3. The suddenly omnipresent slogan "New Normal" is accepted uncritically, almost fervently. A return to the Old Normal – one hears and reads everywhere – will never happen. (How do they all know this with such certainty?)

4. A leaden silence settles over the country. Those who think the new situation is wrong better keep their mouths shut, otherwise their social status will immediately drop to that of doggie doo-doo. People talk behind closed doors and meet conspiratorially.

5. When a vaccine is rolled out, there is no general sigh of relief; instead we get the next mass hysteria. Those who, upon sober reflection, decide not to take the jab are mobbed in public, have to fear for their jobs and become social lepers.

6. And then, just like that, the whole thing is over. Compulsory masking, compulsory vaccination, compulsory testing are but a distant memory, a disturbing dream receding into the shadows.

7. Did anything even happen? Was there something? Everyone is acting as if nothing happened. Now there’s a war, and in the media disaster always travels alone. As if triggered by Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, suddenly there is no more reporting of infection rates in the newspapers, and no one wants to be reminded of Corona.

The Old Normal indeed returned. 

’Twas a mere trifle of billions of euros spent? Sure looks like it. 

But you can't just pull off a stunt like that and pretend everything is normal again. History judges mercilessly. Slowly, but mercilessly.

I, for one, will never forget what happened and what an extremely ugly side society put on display. And I will share what I know. In books and films and wherever I can. My bet: this affair will be dealt with.

Maybe not for decades.

But it will happen. 

Because the critical mass of those who had to watch on aghast as the world around them went mad is large enough. I notice it every day and everywhere I go.
– German text shared anonymously on Telegram

The WEF / WHO / Davos Crowd bet the farm on their desired utopian/dystopian vector set in motion with covid lockdowns. Part of that was of course continuation of preceding shenanigans, doings that include sufficient control of midwit ‘leaders’ – the Build Back Better Brigade – placed in positions of ‘authority’ across the Western world by this malicious grouping of deranged, wannabe Global Rulers. 

Despite their best efforts, their plans fray and unravel all around us.

About a year and a half ago, The West’s specially selected ‘leaders’ (narcissistic, ambitious, controllable, not very bright) have managerially, obediently doubled down on that bet, this time giddy with the belief that Russia is weak, corrupt, a paper tiger, a gas station masquerading as a country. This particular exciting venture is the neocons’ Grand Obsession, or more accurately that especially visceral gaggle of ideologues among them who Hate Russia! so blindly, they seem ready to destroy humanity in pursuit of their grubby Eurasian dreams. 

Despite their best efforts, their plans fray and unravel all around us. 

Their panic is now plain to see if you but look.

What now characterises The West as a result of all this is the ideologically fanatical leading the vain, ambitious and shallow on ugly missions of destruction, with the bought-and-paid-for Western media acting as stenographers amplifying the ever deepening madness that has the West in its grip. Currently, most of the West’s peoples are some combination of too busy, too tired, too cynical or too paralysed by their angsty Stockholm Syndromes to respond with robust, meaningful protest. And of course there’s the vast institutional inertia grinding on and on and on.

And yet the fact that Professor Sachs, among several others, has noticed and is speaking out, and also that there are multiple grassroots and professional fightbacks underway in the UK and US, as indeed across the world, is part of the evidence I draw on when arguing that the cultural soils beneath the now-panicked clown show propagated so garishly by Western media outlets are – though still mostly out of sight – now richly fertile, ready to birth new forms of governance in the West.

Meanwhile, we find ourselves confronted with a tragic mess of epochal proportions, utterly devoid of charm, grace or glory. I will never be able to convey how disgusted I am by what I am witnessing. After earnest and repeated promises to do “whatever it takes”, The West slammed NATO’s doors in Ukraine’s face at the recent Vilnius summit. They may enter those hallowed halls after they beat Russia. But if they can beat Russia, why would they so desperately want NATO membership? 

The West ‘wants’ (needs) a way out, but the only way out appears to be the blunt correction of abject defeat. It will try to stealthily shift the narrative away from Ukraine to The Next Scary Monster, or it will escalate yet again; perhaps today’s the attack on the Kerch bridge was that escalation. My gut and intuition tell me, however, that if they do indeed risk escalation, they will be thwarted by an adult response from Russia/China that stop events boiling over into WWIII.

Ultimately though, the quality of The West’s madness is so tawdry, so malign, so devoid of decency and compassion, it is simply beyond comprehension. The non-Western world watches on, incredulous, trying to keep as far from our crazed insanity as it can, and assiduously gets on with the business of setting up alternative international systems in which one day – I hope – a healed West will participate.

The evil that men do

What The West has primarily squandered is its authority. Grown spiritually bankrupt, materialistic, pompous and narcissistic, The West has come to confuse raw power for authority. Blinded by its hubristic error, it has seduced itself into catastrophic overreach and destroyed yet another nation. It is also destroying itself. Its power, no longer rooted in true authority, is simply the repeated application of brute force, which is now visibly waning brute force.

It is authority alone which is the true and unique power of law. Compulsion is only an expedient to which one takes recourse in order to remedy a lack of authority. Where there is authority […], there compulsion is superfluous.
– Anonymous, Meditations on the Tarot, 1972 (2019), pp77-79.

Where there is authority, there compulsion is superfluous. 

And yet perhaps The West’s malfunction is not evil, perhaps it is something duller, less romantic than that. It is a very human madness of vain pride whose roots clutch deep into decades, centuries of entitlement and privilege, drawing on dynastic belief systems spawned in the slow heat of too much power, too little corrective feedback, too little wisdom.

The “evil spirits” which deprive man of his freedom are not at all beings of the so-called “hierarchies of evil” or “fallen hierarchies”. Neither Satan, nor Belial, nor Lucifer, nor Mephistopheles has ever deprived anyone of his freedom. Temptation is their only weapon and this presupposes the freedom of he who is tempted. […]

[P]erverse human tendencies can deprive us of our freedom and enslave us. Worse still, they can avail themselves of our imagination and inventive faculties and lead us to creations which can become the scourge of mankind. […]

Resist the devil, and the devil will be your friend. A devil is not an atheist; he does not doubt God. The faith which he lacks is faith in man.
– Ibid, pp61-63.

Resist The West, and it will crush you without mercy. Its vanity demands total obedience, the total subjugation of your free will to its demands.

This is the pivotal question: What, in all this noise, has become of our faith in ourselves? How persuaded are we by the unceasing waves of dogwhistle messaging informing us we suck; we are vermin; useless eaters; greedy, porn-addicted breeders procreating too much, but producing nothing of value? How deeply have we internalised this cruel siren song? 

Should we go under? Should we allow ourselves to be culled like Marvel’s Thanos wanted? What are your thoughts on this oddly titillating moral conundrum?

In my previous post, I presented that part of me that forever vacillates, forever ‘progresses’ from one seemingly solid analysis to another. Like all such traits, such vacillation is boon and bane. 

We need faith and skepticism both. The former without the latter leads to fanaticism and machine-like obedience. The latter without the former leads to Hamlet-like inaction and erodes our courage.

My own faith, my knowing, is that humanity is here for a reason, and is on the cusp of rediscovering this truth. We are not pointless. But because free will is sacred and we are trusted with it, we are free to go wildly astray. Astray, our adventures teach us much – though very slowly at the collective level –, and one means of their teaching is great suffering. Sadly – cries the ego – it is a rinse-and-repeat process.

Note, however, that it is “great suffering”, not “great pleasure”! Something in us yearns for nobler lives, something more fitting to our destiny. As the saying goes, “Respect existence or expect resistance!” We resist because something noble in us must resist. We resist because we perceive something profoundly dysfunctional in tyranny. Of course it is never all of humanity resisting as one, but enough of us do resist, and ever more fiercely as times grow ever darker. Human nobility is a flame that can never be fully extinguished. We will always find a way to fight back.

What we need to understand, is what we are fighting for.

The dilemma of dilemmas

Apparently, it costs $20 to $30 to recycle one solar panel, but $1 to $2 to leave it in a landfill to rot. This factoid is a numerical reflection of the image that heads this article. The reason we ‘value’ the latter over the former method for dealing with old solar panels is because we measure value with numbers. In other words, we appreciate value in too coarse, too cumbersome a way at the cultural level. 

A science rooted solely in intelligence seems to tend to destructive technologies. Rooted also in wisdom, it would tend to the constructive. Consequently, one could argue (as I do) that some kind of return to God, to the primacy of consciousness, to the ineffable, is required to afford a shift of emphasis, a shift in the cultural value systems that direct our science, economics and politics. In my analysis, in my intuition, it is precisely this quality of shift that characterises the evolution underway in the cultural soils just beneath our collective perception.

My argument is that this is but one manifestation of that old dilemma, quantity versus quality. It is a very specific dilemma that is not easy to resolve. Or, better perhaps, is a dilemma we should not try to resolve. Part of the Western way seems to me to be a dialectical need to tease out dilemmas in order to choose one side at the expense of the other, as if compelled by an unseen urge to put one half of reality to shame while idolising the other.

Etymologically, a dilemma is a choice between two accepted assumptions or propositions. Positing such between “quality” and “quantity” is usefully illustrative, precisely because one should not want to shame the one and idolise the other. But isn’t this precisely what the West has done these last few centuries? 

Quality is ineffable, unmeasurable. Quantity is its ‘opposite’; we love to grade everything, set endless milestones and benchmarks, we worship precision, admire suspension bridges and internal combustion engines, respect the hard fact of money in the bank and solid trade surpluses, etc. But feelings about these things? Subjective impressions about what it all might mean? 

“Commit it then to the flames”! 

If a thing cannot be measured, if it contains “nothing but sophistry and illusion”, it is a thing to be banished from our attention. This 18th century call to action from David Hume is surely emblematic of how the West has treated reality for about three centuries. This approach has produced engineering marvels and astonishing increases in material wealth, but also much to lament. There is plainly more to reality than that which can be precisely measured. Dignity springs to mind, as do love, honour, friendship, trust, wisdom, to name but a few. None of these could be thought of as unimportant. None can be measured.

We are therefore faced with what I’m provocatively calling the dilemma of dilemmas, by which I mean a cultural inflection point in which the consequences of having idolised quantity for too long, and of having no cultural means, or wisdom, for taking quality effectively into account, are coming home to roost. We have paired reality into a bewitching array of dilemmas, a process whose advantages – precision, clarity, predictability, certainty – have somehow  morphed into a soul-smothering quagmire whose ugliest poster child is Ukraine, closely followed by the bureaucratic nannying and paranoid fear mongering of lockdowns, compulsory vaccination and medical tyranny. 

Our digital future of 0s and 1s is upon us!

Back to faith, back to reality

How backward and inappropriate this concluding subheading must seem to most. What sort of charlatan, what manner of snake-oil salesman would dare headline a phrase that equates faith with reality!? But I go further still. I dare to advocate a re-embracing of superstition. There be gold in them thar hills, the gold of encoded wisdom.

Wisdom cannot be purchased or stolen. You earn the Holy Grail; you cannot win it by chance. Nor can you, by logical extension, earn it and then gift it to others unearned. Accepting this is so, accepting further that wisdom resists measurement and definition, if we do want to make our culture alert to the value of earning and appreciating wisdom, if we do want to draw attention to wisdom as a most noble quality, generally and across time, we are consequently tasked with encoding the many pathways to wisdom in our initiatory and preparatory customs, habits, rituals and, yes, even superstitions. I suspect this set of solutions to the problem of preserving wisdom across time is broadly familiar to all cultures.

This is not to say superstition and its friends should usurp rationality or the scientific method, rather that it be newly understood, welcomed even, as a valued partner in establishing the many interweaving processes of social governance. 

But our centuries-long focus on quantity has sped us up into a white-noise frenzy of perpetual economic growth, 24/7 entertainment and narcissistic abandon. We are cynical, exhausted, emptied. Slowing down to taste the gentle pleasures of mindfulness, the calm solidity of patience, and more importantly to enjoy them, will be challenging, to say the least. I note, however, that Robert Kennedy’s campaign has wisdom and love as foundational elements. I note too that Charles Eisenstein is one of Kennedy’s campaign advisors. All that I write here is thus finding its way into the mainstream via powerful channels. Seeing as the meat and potatoes of this article are more than a little Eisensteinian, and seeing too that this perspective is, one way or the other, as old as time, I hope you can begin to feel the inevitability of wisdom’s return. 

Unbalance wants to correct, disease to ease. Mysteriously, reality always finds the right vehicles for effecting needed correction. I believe Robert Kennedy is one of the more prominent, though there are tens of thousands of less known advocates of what needs to be done. It is my firm conviction that we cannot be stopped.

Postcard from the ledge

It’s a mess out there. – Me.

Maybe that’s a good thing. – Me.

Introduction

It’s been a while. There has been much for me to do in too little time. 

Today is Sunday. I’m alone in the house, and my project work is done, for now. Though insanely busy these last three months or so, I’ve been deep in thought whenever space and quiet allowed, and while in that quiet noticing further elements of the body of my thought disintegrating with the disintegration of the Western world.

This is a lengthy postcard from that windy ledge.

A breakdown of categories

Charles Eisenstein’s career is aimed at inviting as many of us as possible to notice and then advance “the more beautiful world our hearts tell us is possible”. It is a romantic line, and a romantic vector, one that attracts me deeply. Lately though … less and less. I spy many ‘problems’ beneath its pretty surface.

The first has been visible to me for a while: “more beautiful” on whose definition? Beauty lies infamously in the eye of the beholder. Perhaps this is not a problem, perhaps this is in fact part of the solution, a strength. Diversity is the spice of life, right? But don’t we have that already, anyway, and in abundance? Yes, there is homogeneity and groupthink aplenty, but not to the point of an outright grey-washing of everything Out There. The tensions, the disagreements, the endless cultural fault lines speak of a very spicy, very interesting period of history. Multiple ideas of what we find beautiful are in ‘competition’ right now. Some favour safety, others risk. Some favour escape from limitation into who knows what digital utopia, others yearn for a return to tradition and immutable categories. I am drawn to love as it relates to wisdom and health while others enjoy the creature comforts modernity provides. Some are engineers, some accountants, some are corporate career folk, others mavericks. On and on the diversity goes. There is enough diversity in evidence to occupy whole oceans. To argue otherwise is to wilfully overlook the obvious.

And yes, of course there are terrible, terrible problems, and, yes, it’s very hard to deny that humanity stands trembling and afraid before a mighty historical crossroads – or mighty historical spaghetti junction – but this is not an unprecedented state of affairs.

These simple observations eat at me. They always have. I am by nature a doubter who doubts the very ideas I doubt into temporary existence. There are certain certainties in me – there is nothing but God, for example – but how to honour them, which constellation of ‘solutions’ is practical and fitting to the times … these are different challenges entirely to identifying Good Principles. And while there is nothing more powerful than an idea whose time has come, nothing is more impotent than one whose time lies far in the future.

Categories are indeed in breakdown, and yet our past is riddled with such turbulence. This is nothing new. Well, not 100% new; history doesn’t repeat, it rhymes, as the saying goes. There are, despite such emollient platitudes, very reasonable grounds for concern This Time, such as the complex supply chains and just-in-time delivery processes that, in the event of a broad collapse, would present unprecedented societal challenges. But perhaps this very risk keeps things tied securely together? Perhaps this existentially important complexity – deadly over-complication? – is our best insurance against collapse?

Furthermore, civilisational collapse is a misunderstood creature. Imagination has space to blossom in the dearth of information civilisational breakdown leaves in its wake. Apparently, “collapse” is now seen as too dramatic a word. Affairs simply transition to less documented times in which new ways of doing things have a greater chance of winning out than during more stable periods.

Or perhaps this time will indeed be different, who can say.

Catastrophists enjoy imagined (or real) approaching doom. Which mostly never comes. We have all watched countless dread predictions come and go unfulfilled. Who remembers the buzz around Y2K? Not only does catastrophism sell books and papers and movies, we humans are often darkly fascinated by catastrophe and can magic ourselves into a bewitching array of collective hysteria, when mood and moment permit.

Categories are breaking down once again, but nobody knows where this particular iteration will take us, nor how turbulent it will be, nor how much of humanity is bound up in it, nor how deeply. Some folks love to pontificate – I’m one of them –, but an embarrassingly high percentage of our output is just excited chatter on the wind.

To pontificate, or not to pontificate

The answer is yes. Yes, I shall pontificate. It is my wont.

To recap the core thesis as it once tottered about in my mind:

Money is a cultural technology required by the dissolution of trust that is but one consequence of civilisation-scale ‘communities’. When communities are sufficiently small, when specialisation has not taken hold, when social affairs are intimate and all-including, money (as unit of account and store/measure of value) is not needed. 

But things change. Societal evolution of a civilisational stripe includes the establishment of technologies such as private property and a state of some kind to protect it. This in turn produces class hierarchies, the consequent need for statecraft, and the need for money to glue it all together. As such, money effects trust among a community of strangers where far earlier there were no day-to-day strangers to speak of.

But things change. It just so happens money requires scarcity. This is a technological artefact of money in my view, not an immutable consequence of so-called ‘infinite’ wants dismally abutting finite resources to produce tedious supply-demand-price intersections so beloved of economists.

Things change. Scarcity appears to become ‘solvable’, slowly loses its dark charisma. Meanwhile, consumerism’s charms age and wither. And yet money remains the glue that holds all things together. What to do?

Things change. Digital technologies make (potentially all) information available to everyone at all times. This punches the dark arts of statecraft right in the solar plexus. When your chances of success at a Very Difficult Job Indeed require almost watertight and perpetual control of The Narrative, and that now at virtually global scale, the internet is a beast you must tame, pronto. But how? Censorship is what nazis do, and nobody likes those guys.

Things change. People dumb down because dumbness breeds further dumbness as society iterates forwards generationally. Wisdom cannot be handed over neatly to our progeny. To make matters worse, the danger and adventure humans need to grow in wisdom recedes inexorably as the hunger for ‘safety’ and Predictable Outcomes radiates ever outwards like a slow storm. The human crop harvested to produce the ‘leaders’ needed to usher in the glittering dystopian technotopia that will solve all ills via Change You Can Believe In is not remotely of sufficient quality. The human crop is now almost wholly infected by the narcissism that has been running rampant for decades. Those unaffected are unwanted, and anyway want nothing less than leading us dumbed-down oiks to some New Jerusalem.

What to do?

Communities R Us?

What is community? I don’t know, but what it once was and what it might be in future are likely two very different things. 

We need each other differently now. In days of yore, we needed each other existentially. Today, it’s as if we need each other as consumer items. Is this a bad thing? I’ve argued repeatedly that it is, that “meaning” is what humans need, not shallow, throw-away pleasures. 

Humans need humans, this is certain, but how? Meaningfully, and in unchanging ways? To raise barns for each other? To harvest each other’s crops? Stitch each other’s wounds? Rear each other’s young?

Or play online computer games together and have endless fun, with robot slaves cleaning up after us?

In a rain forest, the animals and vegetation take care of each other’s waste. One entity’s waste is another entity’s food. There is in fact no waste. By stark contrast, the domestic world brings with it, unintended, the need to clean up after ourselves. This is kind of against the grain, biologically speaking. No other animal does this. So why should we want to? Self-discipline? Maybe, but forever? Foreverever?? Aren’t we always striving to head back to our ‘perfect’ (idealised) jungle-forest home where our mess was cleaned up after us by other beings, whom we often thanked by gratefully eating them? Only this time around, we aim to recreate that ‘paradise’ with robot slaves, and gaze out across forests of mechanised vertical farms from our climate-controlled, sky-high apartments…

So what is the true character of the community humans must have? Play, or self-discipline? Both?

Much of civilisational effort is the manufacture of solutions to this irksome issue of waste and work, from animal and human slaves to mechanical and robot slaves. What’s wrong with that vector? I see a certain beauty in the minimalism of a disciplined life of low waste and simple living, but I’m not ethically against robot slaves. I’m not against ‘solutions’ to the ‘problem’ of ‘waste’. I’m not against technology, at all. I’m not against ‘sloth’ either, except in the context of a civilisational phase that requires its opposite as a matter of survival. After all, the animal sloths that live well enough are not immoral creatures. They’re just doing their thing. And there is a place for their thing.

Another ‘problem’ of civilisation that dovetails with the above is one-size-fits-all ‘solutions’. Because communities that take care of each other disappear as states grow in skill and size, intimate knowledge of each and every citizen disappears, and each citizen grows increasingly dependent on the state. At some point, case-by-case remedies for each and every unique injury are utterly unaffordable. Thousands, millions, pay a bitter price for this harsh reality, which is also the soil of much corruption and nihilism. Bureaucratic, form-based, statistics-based ‘solutions’ predominate. We become Kafka cogs in a dystopian machine, anonymous, meaningless, quietly desperate. As this progresses, so we dumb down, increasingly dependent on remote ‘experts’ who know the best ‘solutions’ to our (infantile) ‘problems’. And it’s horrible. But also not really. We seep into our situation like spilled coffee into an old sofa, to get stuck there forever, too timid to dare anything different. For the most part.

This is the price we pay for the richly complex journey civilisation is. Except “we” is a very wide scattering of outcomes that is far from ‘fair’ to most. But who really knows what “fair” means? And those who claim they do, can they deliver their ‘fairness’ without accidentally spawning yet another dystopia, as the dream-crushing momenta of civilisation’s autonomic behaviours reassert themselves?

And can we really insist on a deliberate return to a context in which we need each other existentially, just so as to recreate the communities that are our healthiest social context? If indeed they are our healthiest social context.

Or can we become mature enough to produce graceful responses to these dull and terrible horrors, this overly mechanical time that is the post-modern era? Is this, my romantic prayer, simply too much to ask?

The more things change, the more they stay the same

And yet and yet and yet…

I am a man who for ultimately unknowable reasons chose a ‘spiritual’ set of ambitions over those on offer from the world of corporate careerism. At least, that’s how it seems to me at the moment; I’m increasingly unsure the dichotomy just implied really exists anywhere but in my labyrinthine reasoning. I am also a man with a family, four cats, and a dog. This rare combination of factors is not without its considerable stresses. So much so, I find myself wondering too much what’s what, repeatedly reassessing everything as the world around me decays. The answers I produce may be logically and rhetorically sound, but they are also wildly at odds with Life Out There. This practical dissonance appears to strip them of (functional) validity. Who’s right here? Yours Truly The Weirdo, or, in the ‘opposite’ corner, The Great They?

Like everyone else, I do not know how to measure success. In the absence of clear feedback, I plod on, do what I can, and struggle manfully to learn from my repeat-pattern ‘mistakes’. All to grow in grace and wisdom. On the whole, I’d give myself maybe a 4 out of 10 so far.

In my eyes, there can be nothing more ugly, more terrible, than the Russia-Ukraine war, nothing more darkly moribund than the WEF’s plans, the WHO’s pandemic treaty, the “safetyism” and compulsive virtue signalling that characterise the burgeoning totalitarianism that is corporatism’s Frankenstein monster. For the love of God I cannot make my peace with any of it! Why not? Have I correctly reasoned and intuited myself to the wiser, healthier take on all this, or am I but a stubborn old goat?

I have a memory that I now believe was one of my first dreams. I used to think it really happened, but my mother never mentioned the event while alive, so I think it must have been a dream. That I had it is incredible, considering who I am and these times the adult me is living through.

I am a toddler at a party, in a room playing with other toddlers. We ‘telepathically’ agree to go downstairs to visit our parents. We toddle and crawl to the stairs in our seeming multitude, but can’t descend them with skill. A small waterfall of screaming toddlers tumbles down the stairs and piles up at the bottom. I am the only one who manages to hold on to a bannister spindle. I hold on for dear life as if clinging to the edge of a cliff. From this vantage point, I see the shadowy shapes of our parents hurrying to the smoked-glass door of the room they are in, and let go. As I start to fall, the memory/dream ends.

Obviously, the tumbling toddlers represent those who just go along with societal moral decay, incapable of mounting any resistance. I am a lone but pointless exception holding on grimly against the flow of events. When I see authority figures about to remedy the situation, I yield and go with the flow, though I think I wanted to hold on until rescued, as if that would have been a noble accomplishment worthy of their praise. 

Am I about to yield ‘in real life’? The pressure of the flow of events is mighty. Resisting it, when you are essentially a lone wolf, as I am, is quite thankless, and draining. For me, there is no community out there that holds any lasting attraction. I have looked around, volunteer all my spare hours to those who want my technical help (IT skills), but am not attracted to fully join up. And it seems to me that no one is. We all like our customised creature comforts too much. We don’t need each other all that much. A little, perhaps, but not much. Aren’t we faking it?

More and more, this does not bother me. But one outcome of this cool observation that people, generally, are happy enough in their own four walls, is a growing conviction that my spiritual endeavours are misplaced, or misapplied, that I have misunderstood their character. Does this mean that I have likewise misunderstood the character of this historical moment? I suspect so.

I suspect that events are going to morph in unexpected ways that are both wildly anticlimactic and yet powerfully subversive, with a mix of contradictory ‘returns’ to several traditions, though as altered by evolved perceptions thereof. At the same time, these changes will produce, almost stealthily, new technologies and solutions that will bring about deep change. Much of what is ‘needed’ to effect all this is likely already embedded, but the wisdom of those ushering all this in is gravely limited, so limited in fact that their expectations will be dashed. Here I’m thinking of AI and its many Kafkaesque applications. 

I am one of those whose wisdom is simply not up to the task of seeing how things are about to play out. There may well be much turbulence across all societies on earth, but also perhaps not. There will be, I suspect, a re-separation of cultures, but one that mysteriously fosters renewed and deeper communications. Our lost youth will want to learn, and be able to do so, the new skills and social-governance methodologies required by changing circumstances. There will be incredible technological breakthroughs that seem par for the course: revolutionary, but oddly seamless. 

Some mix of these and other such things. Our many cultural soils are growing fertile just beneath our perception, their features and cracks opening to new germination and seeding that will prove Just So for how they have evolved, for the wounds that have enriched them.

“Have I not guided you to where you need to be?”

God said that. To me, when I was at my most desperately angry, when I raised my fist against Him like a spear. By “you”, I think He meant us all. And I could feel His deeply disarming smile course through me like a river.

(Note he said “need”, not “want”!)