Humanity Behaving Badly

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The third tenet of Distilled Harmony is Distill Complexity. I do not, at least have not, written about it often because, well because it’s complicated. However recent experiences with “news stories” seemingly arising on different planets force me to address this oft neglected tenet. So be patient with this post. Take notes, draw diagrams. Walk around, talk back. OK. Here we go. 

In order to distill complexity so as to arrive at a clearer, more accurate, more precise understanding of any issues under consideration in order to proceed wisely as individuals, or as society, we need first be able to grasp the nature of, and the details that define, the complexity. I said it was complicated! Sadly, I am becoming convinced that if such a definition has not already slipped through our fingers, it is in imminent danger of doing so.  

The optimistic view of the Information Age is that we have at our command all the information necessary to solve humanity’s challenges. A more pessimistic take is that there is so much information available that one can construct, and support, virtually any version of “truth.”  The complexity, rather than being the raw material from which we can distill truth, becomes a vast array of data points from which we can distill whichever version of truth fits best with our personal perspective, beliefs, attitudes and values. 

Presented with an assertion, position or policy, any well-trained graduate of our universities, or post graduate schools of law, medicine, or business, - or perhaps a facile high school student - needs only access to any of a variety of today’s powerful search engines to create a persuasive, well-documented refutation of that assertion, position or policy. And yes, I realize that one obvious conclusion of this train of thought is that a couple of disconcerting casualties of the Information Age may be reality and truth.  

Alternatives to that depressing conclusion may lie in paying close attention to the notion that there are differences among the related concepts of information, knowledge and wisdom. Briefly: 

Information is the Dragnet, Joe Friday, view of the world. (For those of you younger than, oh, say 65, Dragnet was a TV detective show that ran from 1951 - 1959. Joe Friday, the head detective would alway confront a witness, usually a woman, with the phase, “Just the facts, m’am. Just give us the facts.” Apparently still available via Sling TV.) Hence, information is “just the facts” - the data. 

Knowledge is the process by which we assemble those facts into logical, cohesive, “if - then” statements about the world we live in; if I/we do this, then this will be the result. Knowledge is knowing how the world works. 

Wisdom is choosing which flavor of knowledge we put in place as individuals, societies, nations to most benefit those individuals, societies and nations. 

To do that, to determine what you consider “the most beneficial knowledge narrative,” one must clarify one’s own beliefs, attitudes and values. A word of warning here. I suggest that you do make a list of your core beliefs, attitudes and values. But make sure that each item on your list begins with “I,” not we. “I” believe so and so. “I“ value such and such. “We” statements tend to reflect adherence to a group norm. Which is often OK, but your list needs to be personal and need not always mirror the norms of any group to which you belong. Then, make your list, check it twice or thrice to see if it really does reflect your intellectual and emotional core concepts. 

The objective, obviously, is to personally live according to the narrative most consistent with those core concepts. (My “Foster Harmony, Enable Beauty, Distill Complexity, Oppose Harm.”) The alternative is to accept the psychic whiplash that accompanies the dissonance and stress made possible by the constant clash of competing versions of existence residing in the overwhelming stream of data that underlies the Information Age. 

In conclusion, it is only responsible to consider one’s inevitable interactions with those adhering to alternative narratives. We have been conditioned to consider “fight or flight” as our primary choices. But while being the source of the current reportage in both main stream and fringe media, fight or flight are not the only options. Perhaps it is time we all gave more credence to the idea of observe, consider, and tolerate. Contrary to the “fight or flight” perspective, tolerance is not a bad thing. Tolerance is not an indication of weakness. Perhaps tolerance is the flavor of wisdom that can most benefit us all. Tolerance is merely an acknowledgement and acceptance of difference. Something we could all use in these new, but troubled, times. 

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What's up, doc?

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OK, so I just don’t have the psychic energy to follow the news anymore. I know they are just following their old mantra “If it bleeds, it leads!” But really.  I, on the other hand, am hankering for something that allows me to feel good about our world and who we are. To that end I’m spending more of my screen time differently. 

No surprise, I am guided in this screen odyssey by the tenets of Distilled Harmony, particularly the first two: Foster Harmony and Enable Beauty. Being a nature junky and photography geek, it wasn’t long before I stumbled upon the Netflix series, Night on Earth, sort of the progeny of the earlier Netflix series, Planet Earth.  But shot entirely at night with cutting-edge, low-light and infrared video technology. Both the new series and it’s older ancestor speak eloquently to those first two tenets and set me off binging on whatever pops up when I enter “nature documentaries” into the YouTube search engine.  

But this adventure requires a bit of explication. First of all these programs are not Disney, the Muppets, or Toy Story. These programs are not animation of any sort.  The programs I select - I have just finished a couple on the National Parks of Africa, and a National Geographic winsome piece on a barn-owl’s search for a new home - are “real life” stories that feature prey and predators. And so adults need to preview before sharing with little ones. Remember, the harmony of nature really is a “circle of life” and that includes death. So to foster harmony we must learn that true harmony results from complex notes scored not solely in concert with, but also rubbing up against, one another. Nature, especially when captured fairly and artfully in these documentaries, does just that.

The treatment of second tenet, Enable Beauty, staggers the imagination in these new works. And here I must truly give the new technology its due. One of my favorite all time nature documentaries is Yellowstone in Winter, shot in 1984. Sadly it is one of those things, like Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, treasured best in memory. With the original Yellowstone in Winter I found myself vainly trying to adjust the focus on my iPad. You can’t do that. I noticed that there are newer HD versions, and I will give them a try. But it was my disappointment with the original that prompted me to include the word “new” in my nature documentaries searches. Incredible. Now I often have to view each video twice, as all through the first screening I am saying, often to the chagrin of anyone who happens to be watching with me, “How can they get that shot?” “Where is the camera?” “Why doesn’t the gator eat them?”  Then someone says, “Will you be quiet and let us watch?” So we start over.

But there is something far more important than the astounding technical quality of these documentaries, and that is what they reveal about harmony and beauty. I must admit that most often when I think about harmony and beauty, the dual cores that support Distilled Harmony, I think about the arts; music, painting, sculpture, literature, architecture - those tangible manifestations of our species at our creative pinnacle. However, a few hours of peering at our world, our universe, through the incredible lenses and microphones of today’s nature documentarians reveal that far deeper layers of harmony and beauty can be discerned in the quiet contemplation of realms external to, or relatively untouched by, our species. As Shakespeare said, “There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horacio, . . .”

Well, I find that I have written myself into the proverbial corner. I’m trying to use words on a screen to describe experiences that we need to experience through our eyes and ears. I hear tell that some creatives are making significant headway in revealing these worlds through virtual reality platforms. That is truly exciting, and I look forward to the experience. But in the meantime, I will content myself with binging on “best new nature documentaries.” Come on in! The water’s great!

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I think, therefore . .

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Ah yes, Descartes “I think, therefore I am.” He was a biggie that we all had to read back in Philosophy 101. He helped keep philosophy departments stay afloat in the face of the STEM inundation, and was the source of one of my favorite philosopher jokes: 

Descartes was sitting in his favorite bistro when the waiter realized the philosopher’s coffee cup was empty.

“Professor Descartes, would you care for more coffee?”

Descartes looked up, replied, “I think not .  .  .” And vanished!

Well, maybe you had to be there. 

Anyhow, I don’t know how Monsieur Descartes would feel about the current ascendency of “magical thinking” which might possibly be traced to his famous quote, only twisted to read “If I think it hard enough, I can make it true.” Some of the most widely cited current examples of this logical fallacy can sadly be traced to the White House’s assertions regarding COVID-19. From Trump’s initial assertion that it was “Only one guy in China,” to his more recent claim that “99% of all COVID cases are harmless” we see magical thinking running rampant: “If I think it hard enough and shout it loud enough I can make it true.” Would that that were true.

Anyone who has taught school has encountered more than their fair share of the illusory certainty that accompanies magical thinking in the young: Santa is real. Elvis is alive. Human beings existed alongside dinosaurs. The earth is flat. When pressed for evidence they will often assert that “everyone knows that” or they have known that “all their lives.” A droll assertion in the mouth of a teenager. I fondly recall the response of a pithy older Baptist preacher, a guest speaker in a class on Constitutional Law, to a student who had opined that only the members of his tiny church would be allowed in heaven; “Young man, did you check your brains at the door?”

Magical thinking in the young is, perhaps, inevitable. An occasionally amusing intellectual aberration that they will outgrow as they move through life and education, encountering the idea of truth, of proof, and the scientific method. Those tools that gave us penicillin, knee replacements, lasik surgery, open heart surgery and the iPhone! But among chronologically mature adults in positions of power, like our current President, magical thinking is a dangerous adolescent mental deficiency leading to policy decisions that endanger millions.

So how did we get here? I am currently reading Fluency, by Jennifer Foehner Wells, an entertaining sort of Calamity Jane in Space sci-fi romp. I have also re-read most of Frank Herbert’s Dune series during my pandemic induced literary frenzy. So I have been thinking about how science fiction - touted by many practicing scientists as an early influence in their career choices in pure science, physics and all those other STEM fields - might drive one instead into the arms of magical thinking. Think about it. Writing fiction is an act requiring a rich vocabulary, a fertile imagination, boundless creativity and energy, and a slavish dedication to the craft of writing. If you point those characteristics at the task of creating narratives that unfold in imaginary worlds from long ago in galaxies far, far away you often end up either with science fiction, or with fantasy. And there is a significant difference between the two.

Authors who opt for science fiction often obsess about retaining scientific believability. The written forms tend to carry long lists of acknowledgments of scientists who kept them on the scientific straight and narrow. In video versions the list of scientific advisors in the credits takes several minutes to crawl down the screen. The message is clear: This is science fiction, but science fiction nonetheless in which science is writ large. Authors who opt for fantasy probably have more fun because they just make up their worlds. And so we get dragons and wizards, hobbits and Harry Potter, magic and, seemingly unintentionally, the seeds of magical thinking. Winter is coming, because I say it is. Winter is coming because I believe it is.

Hence, The White House fantasy narrative: COVID-19 will soon disappear on its own because I want it to. Most COVID-19 cases are mild, harmless, because I want them to be. We are winning the fight against COVID -19 because I want us to.

Old man, did you check your brains at the door?

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This Isn't Our First Rodeo

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I was going to call this post “This Isn’t Our First Date.” That might be more accurate, but somehow “This Isn’t Our First Rodeo” felt better. Maybe more nuanced? I’ll let you decide.

Anyhow, this post springs from the fact that my bride thinks I am anti-social. Not in a bad “hiding in the basement” way, just as sort of a neutral descriptor. I, naturally, take exception. I would rather say that I am less social than she. She has been raised in that tidewater tradition of Southern gentility that enables her to skim over the surface of oft repeated conversations in which many words are spoken but nothing truly revealing is said. You see where that first date analogy might come in?

I, on the other hand, was raised in an academic home in which if you didn’t have something new and interesting to add to a conversation nobody paid any attention to you. Way past the first date. Which really brings me to the real point of why I spend hours of effort composing these Wall posts. The rationale is especially germane here in the midst of the pandemic when we may well have run out of interesting conversation material with the folks - over five years old anyhow - with whom we are sheltering. 

If you can think back to those first dates, the reason - hormones aside - that there were 2nd, 3rd, 4th, etc., dates was because that person was interesting, fascinating even. They made you think. They listened to your stories. Maybe they even made you laugh. You (and I use the singular Northern form as opposed to the collective Southern y’all, because when I write these posts I usually think of you as the other side of a two-person conversation) and I have, for the most part, been together for a long time. The Wall is pushing into its third decade, and some of you have been here that long. Others of you are still wondering what you have wandered into.

But regardless of your time on The Wall, each individual post/conversation is way past first date surface chatter. When I write to you I am unabashedly exercising the privilege that made university teaching such a delight for much of my career. I get to set the agenda. “Yes, the kids are fine. Wasn’t that cute? How about that Wolfpack? And now, what do you think about . .  .” And I take off from there to whatever I want to talk about.

Hopefully each Wall post allows me to ruminate on something interesting. In the classroom, or in the last decade, online, with my college students I often asked them to think about the relationship between their beliefs, attitudes and values and the important people in their lives. This was often an “invert your assumptions” moment for them. They were often under the illusion that their friends and celebrities of various stripes determined, or at least shared, their beliefs, attitudes and values. The reality, of course, is that each student’s beliefs, attitudes and values should determine who they choose as friends and whose careers they should support. For many of them that was their first intellectual rodeo.

But, as the title of this post indicates, you and I are way past that. We are hopefully at that quiet, feet propped up with a beverage in front of the fireplace, late in the evening, but strangely not tired place, when one of us says, “Have you ever wondered about . . .” We are at the place where interesting thoughts unfold. The place where hopefully we both come to better understand what it means to foster harmony, enable beauty, distill complexity and oppose harm.

I am really only beginning to realize how incredibly fortunate I am to have you there across the firelight from me. You see, unlike social media, you can’t sign up to be on the Wall. There aren’t any self-declared Friends or Followers. I have to put you on the Wall. And as a result everyone I truly care about is on the Wall, gazing at me through the flickering flames. That doesn’t mean that everyone on the Wall fits that unique category of someone I cherish. You see, I started the Wall about 25 years ago. And in the early days I would sometimes invite my students or folks I had met at art classes, galleries, etc., to give me their email addresses and I would put them on the Wall. As a result there are probably 70 or 80 addresses on the Wall list. No doubt a fair number of the “Here’s the link” messages zip off to addresses long since turned off as lives and careers shifted. However, and this is the wonderful part, still among those addresses are virtually everyone I truly care about. A couple still need help figuring out how to get the post up on their screen. But for the most part, there you are, sitting across the fire. Amazing.

So, am I anti-social? Not really. I do occasionally enjoy chatter and “first date” level interactions. But only in limited doses. Hence, in a way I guess I am a touch anti-social in the sense that I have trouble doing those “first date” conversations very often. I really prefer the fireplace, here on the page, just you and me.

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