Chronicles (Part VII): Acquiring Perspective

As I mentioned in the introduction to this site, my departure from England occured some time ago. I’m collecting and sharing these posts now because I have moved past the place of pure frustration and confusion to a place of increased perspective. Again, my journey is not yet complete. But perhaps I’ve seen a sufficient amount along the way that I can now more safely navigate the waters. That said, I don’t want to ignore the fact that I’ve crossed paths with my fair share of dangerous lands- most, if not all, of which were intentionally approached (you can decide for yourself the wisdom of these decisions).

So before I share with you the experience of the seasoned yachtsman, I feel compelled to share the (in)experience of the foolish runaway. Just like Chesterton felt in recounting his voyage, many of these “chronicles” are somewhat embarassing to me now- just as, I’m sure, my current ones will be at a later time. But the point of this endeavor is not to preserve my pride. It is to be honest…

I’ll be posting seven pieces from the early parts of my journey.

10/30/09

When viewing the actions we take as a society, I find myself often wondering what end we are pursuing. We are constantly striving. Seeking. Fighting. Struggling. But, regardless of the fact that we disagree on a large number of things, and regardless of whether we are running towards different finish lines, it seems that we are at least asking the same questions. We generally have the same values (not necessarily in a religious or moral sense, but in the sense of quintessential desires). Collectively, I feel that we have our eyes fixated on a future that we are incessantly striving to realize.

What is it that we are striving for? What is it that we gather together to achieve, electing officials to offices to seek more directly on our behalf? We love to talk about progress. I’d say that progress is a fairly easy thing to achieve as a society. If you put enough people together for long enough, they will eventually realize what things are being done wrong (there’s always plenty in that department) and at some point after that will eventually find a solution to make it right (or at least, a little less wrong than before). I think as humans we are finely tuned to correct our mistakes, to learn from our non-lethal errors. We may be stubborn. History has certainly shown that to be one of our defining qualities. But at some point the wall of stupidity crumbles to reason’s siege.

I have to say that while progress is admirable and reasonably attainable, it’s more of a description than an explanation of mankind’s drive. At the same time, I am hesitant in saying that. The case for progress alone is compelling. We are inspired by the prospect of tomorrow being better than today. We take pride in the fact that, while we still aren’t where we want to be, we sure have come a long way. We look to our past, shake our heads, and thank God we live in modern times. We look to our future, at times with fear, but often with hope.

I really think that’s what it breaks down to. Progress is ultimately a watered down word for hope. Hope that next year will be better than this one. Hope that our children will grow up in a world of opportunities we never had. Hope that the diseases which kill millions will be defeated. Hope that war-mongering dictators will succumb to reasonable, virtuous men. Those are potent, inspiring words. Few can hear them and not be moved. But, at the same time, they can’t explain it all. That argument, in and of itself, is fundamentally cyclical. Powerful? Absolutely. Effective? Entirely. But cyclical. It goes something like this. We strive our entire lives so that our children can inherit a better life, a better world than ours. So that… our children can strive their entire lives so that their children can inherit a better life, a better world than theirs. So that… So that… So that…

While hope is a powerful thing, fear is often present to counterbalance it. Its role is quite similar to hope’s, and often achieves similar (if not a bit less intelligent) results. Those of us motivated by fear (or in those times where we are motivated by fear), we look to the past in the opposite manner of those motivated by hope. We focus on the negative things in the world that (we believe) did not exist in the past. Something new has crept in. We didn’t notice it at first. But it’s gaining ground, threatening life as we know it. Seeking to make our children’s world even worse than ours. And we must fight it. Or something like that. Despite what wise Solomon said millennia ago, we convince ourselves that there are, in fact, a multitude of new things under the sun.

I should say that I am in many ways a pragmatist. I generally care more about what gets done than what motivated people to do it. Whether done in hope or fear, I believe a good act is a good act. However, that’s not really the issue. Man’s inherent “goodness” or “evilness”- whatever those terms mean- is not what I care about at the moment. As strictly a personal opinion, I think those “evil” men in the world have taken what is a good desire and perverted it or taken it to an extent which it was not meant to go. It’s hard for me to think they were simply born with the evil gene, while the rest of us were fortunate enough to receive the dominant allele. So, in that sense, I argue that we are back to the same fundamental question. What motivates us as a people? Throw out the cases where people do really good and really bad things. They are both, I have to believe, acting on what are (or at least were at some point) the same drive. The same ultimate goal.

We can take a purely Darwinian approach, holding that we simply want what is best for us and our offspring. Our genes want us to survive, to reproduce, to dominate. Whatever meets those goals is reinforced (selected for) and persists in future generations. It’s a good argument. It’s nearly impossible to come up with a case where someone acts in pure violation of this theory, where their actions and self interests do not align in any way. Social reciprocity serves as an adequate, selfish basis for all seemingly selfless acts. Any gaps in the theory can be filled in by the panacea that is the normal curve.

I think much of human behavior can, at the very least, be sufficiently explained in this light. We clearly pursue courses of action that lead to the betterment of our group. On any level of life, we strive to increase our status through our group. Countries war over this idea. Who, in the history of mankind, has honestly been okay with the idea that their nation could be taken over by another? The instances are rare. The point is that we don’t care as much about fundamental values as we do what is ours. I doubt many people, including myself, would say that as a personal statement. But, in practice it’s true. Nations across the world, and in every period of time, have differed (often in profound ways) on the core values they adhere to and push for in the rest of the world. Largely, we refuse to accept that someone else’s way is better and more desirable than ours. Logically that doesn’t make a bit of sense.

How can everybody think they’re right when there are always a multitude of options? How is it that we can be so quickly motivated to go to war, to die, for the values of our nation (and I’m not referring to America any more than any other country here)? I’m not for a second saying there isn’t a right answer. But that’s not relevant to the point here. We clearly and undeniably fight for what is ours instead of what is right in most cases. Granted, we generally believe that those two qualities are one and the same. Logically, however, we know that’s often not true.