As an activist doing outreach with the Zeitgeist Movement,
it is inevitable to come across those individuals who believe that the human
race is simply incorrigible. The message
gets communicated in such responses as, “I’m just waiting for the mushroom cloud,”
or “All humans are psychotic,” or “Humans are a virus that needs to be
eradicated.” These are actual statements
that have been told to me, as if they are the cold hard truth that I must come
round to submitting to.
I could speculate endlessly about why people come to these conclusions, but that’s not my purpose here.
Rather, I want to look deeper into this sense of resignation. It’s easy to write people off saying that they
are delusional, unaware, or silly. But,
that is an approach employed by those who don’t have the energy to investigate
further. If there’s one central idea I
took away from the book, Immunity to Change, it is that “bad habits” continue
because they serve some underlying need.
An example from the book is that CEOs (the researchers worked with large
companies needing to develop their organizational leadership) explicitly state
their need to delegate more often, but do not do so because having their hands
in all projects makes them feel indispensible to the company’s operations. The underlying need is to feel important and
assured that their contribution matters.
The recurring problem is that they cannot effectively balance their duties and
priorities to maximize their contribution to the organization.
So, what is this need that is being met by the mushroom
cloud guy? Does he really feel better
“knowing” that the end of humanity is nigh, especially with such a horrific
vision of how that end will come about?
Does the girl’s assertion that all humans are psychotic relieve any
sense of fear or paranoia? People who
act as though these situations are real in their daily lives generally exhibit
symptoms of anxiety and schizophrenia.
My guess is that these beliefs only surface when confronted with the
difficult challenge of how to fix the world, which seems inescapably tethered
to misery. The problems are vast and
broad. They seem to crouch unexpectedly
in every corner of the world, and certainly in every place where humans find
themselves. Because of the universality
of misfortune, the only answer to “how to fix this mess?” is, of course, that
it cannot be fixed. Humans are wretched evil creatures who can only be saved by
a dose of atomic energy, or perhaps a magical beast that hands out miracles and
benevolence as happily and frequently as a rich man pays his taxes.
What are the benefits of this kind of thinking? The impulse to reach a conclusion quickly is
sort of like Energy Star for the brain.
As I mentioned earlier, it’s easy for me to brush off doomsayers by
labeling them “silly” or “crazy.” That’s
my inner cognitive couch potato talking.
To sum up all of humanity as “psychotic” or “suffering from sin” is a
nearly effortless way to resolve the discomfort caused by witnessing persistent
misery. The problem is essentially
solved by saying “it can’t be solved.” I
remember coming across math problems in grade school to which I screamed out
red-faced, “It’s impossible—stupid book!” “Those dumb authors don’t know
nothing!” I would vent. (I still have
moments like these, but I’m too embarrassed to give examples.)
That reaction gives us a break from the perplexing challenge
of how to solve our self-generated problems.
And that break gives us time to do more important things like taking a
shower, going shopping, and eating. It’s
so nice when society is set up to function in a way that we don’t have to think
about it! (Yes, this is a snub to those
who can’t bear the idea of economic planning because they think it is a trap of
totalitarianism.) It’s ironic how our
unwillingness to consider these deeper problems actually makes life more
challenging, which requires more energy, than if we had systems set up to
function efficiently and sanely.
Besides the benefits of cognitive recess, the other
reinforcing aspect of this dead-end thinking (literally, dead-end) is that
taking on any responsibility is unnecessary.
Since nothing can be done to correct the problem, then no effort is
required to implement the needed changes.
The non-solution basically begs you to “sit this one out” and that
definitely appeals to the outer couch potato. However, there’s always that nagging feeling
that you should do something, no matter how much you try to convince it that
any effort is a waste of time. It may also be that this defeatist attitude stems from an internalized sense of inadequacy, but let's leave that for another discussion.
None of us knows what will happen to humanity, on earth or
anywhere else. It is arrogant to assume
otherwise. Because that’s the case, we
can’t “sit this one out;” we are already part of life. Our actions affect the flow of society,
whether we intend to or not. By not
putting effort to the problems, we allow them to perpetuate and multiply. So, “doing nothing” is not possible. Doing nothing really just means doing what
the status quo demands. It means conforming.
It means subjugating oneself to a dreaded idea of “respectability.” Doing nothing is an illusion. Even if you kill yourself, that is still
“doing something,” with effects that may last generations. The question isn’t
to do or not to do. It is, “what needs
to be done?” To start, we can notice
the problems around us and be compelled to act compassionately. Nature endows us with the hardware—mirror
neurons—to do this, so the beginning of change is to stop the mind from resting
on the simple-minded sofa. If we can
create our own catastrophes, we can figure out how not to create them. We may have to try completely novel
solutions, but with the best of human wisdom, we can likely get to
“better.” What we do know is that “doing
nothing” just means we won’t get to better.
And most likely, we’ll just get to “worse.”
