CHANGE with a capital C is the kind of change this post is
about, not the endless flux of life that occurs within and without. After having just watched another documentary
(Surviving Progress) about our human-created mess, described as a “progress
trap,” there was the familiar and immediate sense of frustration, anger, and
despair about how we have manufactured problems faster than churn out
widgets. These problems are like ominous
waves threatening to crash us in our hastily built rafts against the rocky
shore, and we’re too busy putting on wetsuits to “prepare.”
After those initial feelings of panic wane, many of us end
up securing ourselves to Hope. This Hope
calms us by the repetition of assurances that tuck us safely away in our
delusions: change will come, life will be better, and we just have to stay
optimistic. The alternative, it seems, is to just hope for the end of the
world.
Is it possible to be neither hopeful nor fatalistic? Do we have to either wish it all ends in a
big Noah’s Arc-like deluge or that somehow, through time, people will be made
sane and a healthy world will materialize by the sheer force of social
momentum? Is there perhaps a middle path?
You are probably wondering why I seem so hostile to hope—who the hell
doesn’t like Hope?
First, let’s look at some facts. Humanity’s appearance on this biosphere has
been quite brief in geologic time. For nearly
all of that time, human technology empowered us to impact the biosphere only
minimally. That has changed with
industrialization and ever-increasing rates of technological advancement, which
is why a lot of people ascribe the blame to technology instead of human
culture. (Note: we are quite adept at
missing the correct causal chain of events!) With such a short time to properly
adapt to our new circumstances, we often face the glitches of fancy new
programs running on old brain neuroarchitecture. (Maybe we’ll change this brain
hardware problem sooner than we think via cybernetic augmentation.) As much as
humans have an affinity for beliefs of a never-ending ego (the Soul), we have
an affinity for beliefs of a human species that lives on and on. Perhaps most species have “thought” similarly,
but we can’t ask them because they are extinct now. So, even if we disregard
anthropogenic biosphere modification, humans have a fair statistical chance of
becoming extinct. Add in habitat
degradation by humans, and those odds increase significantly. In other words, it would not be unreasonable
to bet on human extinction if we were gambling at the Galactic Casino.
Being an unconventional and eccentric species with
brain-powered adaptation, we could also feel hopeful that such a unique
attribute will enable us to overcome any significant change in
environment. Our lives seem so divorced from the “natural
environment” already that we are inclined to think the fuss about climate
change, pollution, desertification, ocean acidification, and fresh water loss
can all be overcome. Heck, we’re
supposed to be able to survive on Mars, so screw you Earth! Except, we are very
poorly adapted biologically to non-Earth environments as one recent Mars500 study demonstrated. Our rhythms, sense of perception, bone
density, and microorganism symbiosis are all part of this Earth, our native
planet. It is appropriate to understand
Earth as our “mother” that brought us to life and nurtures us to our deaths.
But, what’s so wrong with hoping for a better future? What’s wrong with believing that things must
get better because that is just where the arc of history leads, not unlike the
leprechaun’s rainbow which always ends in a big pot of gold? While not true in every case, it does seem
that when people give in to this “Hope,” it allows them to take a backseat to
action. It goes something like this (not
an actual quote): “Look! I know our habitat is being destroyed, and that’s just
terrible, but things will work themselves out in the long run. We just need Time for people to realize this,
and then a wonderful transformation will occur.
People will wake up and stop this madness. In the meantime, I’ve got places to be and
things to do.”
Second, this hopeful thinking fails to acknowledge the
suffering of now. If I am the 12-year
old sold into sex slavery, do you think I am mollified by the idea that Time
will bring Change? If my only viable
means to an income is to scavenge for trash, despite its dangers, does it help
me that you are willing to be patient for Change? If my child is dying from a lack of basic
medical care, does your Hope for an improved future world ease my grief? “Sorry lil’ Ruby, you may not get to live
another day, but it’s ok, a better world is coming soon.”
When we have to take out the trash, we just do it. We don’t Hope that it goes away magically,
nor do we resign ourselves to a house overflowing with garbage. We act.
When we break a bone or need surgery, we get it done. When we run out of food, we go buy or grow
some more. Our human family is sick and so is our habitat, so we must act to
regain our health. That doesn’t mean we
don’t study the causes, try solutions, and refine our approach. It just means that Hope and Despair are
unnecessary to action, and often, can prevent proper action.
