We have to get over the hill before the holiday

Easter's coming (and I'm going to talk more about that next time). Easter's also a big deal -- I don't care if you're Christian (professing or avoiding) or not. In our oh-so modern, secular, ununderstanding, misunderstanding, materialist, person-centered realities, it's difficult to make anyone aware of anything more than themselves.

Now, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you/your ego/your view of yourself aren't the center of the universe; your city/region/country is not the center of the universe; your social/political/moral views are not the center of the universe. I know you like to think that they are, but they're not.

There was a time (and I'll be the first to admit that I miss it) when "meaning" meant something. We could (and were encouraged to) find "meaning in our lives", "meaning in the things we read", "meaning in our jobs", well, meaning in just about everything. Most of us don't have that anymore. Science, for example, has shown/told/proved to us that "meaning" is mere illusion: the world as we know it and encounter it is the product of a random series of random mutations of genes that has brought us to where we are and we have no idea where anything is going. In reaction to this, some have sought refuge in religion, each of which have thick books written a long time ago that tell exactly where we came from, why we're here, and in most cases, why we're suffering now and will continue to suffer throughout all of eternity. Yeah, I always found comfort in religion too.

It's time for a confession: I love science and have for as long as I can remember. The science I loved, though, the one that was searching for truth, that was willing to adapt based on the evidence, that was putting forth hypothesis to be falsified, and more, no longer exists. I don't recognize science anymore. Another confession: I love religion and have for as long as I can remember. The religion I loved, though, the one that had a view of truth, that was willing to measure itself against others, that was willing to proclaim that its approach to life could make life better for all, and more, no longer exists. I don't recognize religion anymore. The same is true for many of the big-ticket subjects we have to deal with: politics, economics, sociology, psychology, anthropology, ethnology ... the list goes on. At one time, all of them seemed open to what was new, what was to come. Now, they all pride themselves on their exclusivity. How sad, how sad.

And so, I find myself in something of a "meaningless" world. As Buffalo Springfield sang, "Nobody's right, when everybody's wrong." Unfortunately, inspite of everything, I am still looking for meaning because I personally believe that without meaning, life is, well meaningless. But, I hasten to add, I'm willing to talk about it.

A notion close to "meaning" is "sense" and I'm one of those hopeless idealists who would like some "sense" in his life, even if there's on meaning. It may be that we can't have it all, but it would be comforting to think that we could at least have something, anything, no matter how meagre it is. Our modern world doesn't want that.

Oh, I understand when people flee into pre-packaged solutions (or promises of solutions): believe science because they know; accept Jesus as your Lord and Saviour and you'll go to Heaven; get more guns because Obama is curtailing the Second Amendment; the one who dies with the most toys wins; I'm rich because I work hard and you're poor because you're lazy; or many, many more. Yes, I can understand that people do that, but I'm having difficulty understanding how, in a world of universal (so-called) education, we can still fall for the same old snake-oil cons that we fell for before. Maybe, just maybe, we haven't been educated at all.

We're not over the hill yet, but we're getting there. We've a holiday coming and I think we should stop and enjoy it. We hardly ever take the time. But, we should always take the time.

Gotta shift gears, we're heading uphill

Sometimes I think the world is simply going insane. I know a lot of you agree with me. You can't open your Facebook page, read your daily newspaper (on or offline), watch the news, or simply turn on your TV without being overwhelmed with more insanity than the normal person deserves: war, plagues, famine, aggression, crime, immorality, corruption ... it's the order of the day. Yes, these topics have been attracting our attention for as long as we, as humans, have been around, but I know a lot of think that there all getting worse, not better.

We do have major issues confronting us, no doubt about it: global warming (it's a fact, learn to live with it), wealth inequality (it's not getting better), worldwide migration (both due to climate change and unwarranted military aggression), debt, food insecurity, water insecurity, natural-resource depletion ... all of these things are very, very real, and whether we like it or not, they affect all of us. We may not agree on the definitions or delimitations of these issues, and we may have differing views on who is allow and justified in doing what on the world stage, but the least that we can expect at the beginning of the 21st century is that we should be able to talk, discuss, and debate about them. But we can't.

In my (OK, perhaps not-so-humble) opinion, that is the biggest, most threatening problem facing humankind: our unwillingness (in too many) cases and our inability (generally) to interact with one another to resolve it.

In a world in which everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, how can we decide which opinions are worthy of further consideration and debate, and which ones are nothing more than what they are on the surface: opinions (the replacement, not the result of thought)? You can shrug this off as mere playing with words and clever turns of phrase, but the real issues around which these words are dancing is as real and as threatening and as potentially devastaing as any we have faced as a species thus far. What I am seeing -- and what particularly disturbs me -- is a decreasing willingness and abililty to talk (in the most fundamental and essential sense of the word) with others. In a word, this bothers me tremendously.

There was a time, not long ago, when we could discuss and debate. The reasons we can't anymore are legion. I don't care at all who is at fault. For me, I would much rather fix the problem than fix the blame, but that's one of the reasons so many people think I'm odd. That's not how things are normally done.

OK, I'm one of those hopeless, hapless dreamers who thinks that there are such things as right-and-wrong, true-and-false, correct-and-incorrect, but I am also one of those nerds who thinks we can establish rules and standards, criteria, against which we can judge our claims. These might be pragmatic (what works) or ideal (abstractions of some kind) ... I don't care. Some things are more physical than others and the measures that we might agree on to determine the goodness, badness, validity or inapplicability of any standard should be able to be discursively determined (that is, we should be able to talk about and agree on what we mean).

In other words, we could talk, discuss and debate, if we wanted to. This isn't going to happen politically at the moment, though there are certainly politicians who could. It isn't going to happen religiously, though there are people of faith who would be more than welcome in the discussion. It isn't going to happen nationally, for the issues that most need to be resolved apply to everyone, not just one nation or group of nations, and the issues transcend "interests", regardless of how they are nationally or politically defined.

What I'm saying, in simplest terms, is that we are in dire need of a new dialogue: one that doesn't care in the least who you are, but is completely concerned with what you have to say; one that is impervious to where you come from, but is in tune with how you apperceive the world around you; one that doesn't care in the least what your interests are if they are not in tune with everyone's interest.

I am not talking about some utopian ideal, quite the contrary. I'm talking about every serious discussion between any two human beings on this planet. For me, this is the absolute baseline. If you're not willing to engage, if you're not open to otherness, if you're not serious about what might be good, right or wholesome for anyone other than yourself or those close to you, you're never going to be part of the solution, you'll always be part of the problem.

Crossroads, threshold, whatever

There are enough alarmists running around: the end of the world, the end of history, the end of capitalism, the end of who-knows-what. I'm not one of them. On the other hand, we are faced with a number of serious issues which, much like the nuclear destruction of the world in the 1950s/Cold War, which could mean the end of all of us, if we don't wise up. There is no self-destructive, nefarious cabal hiding somewhere waiting to end everything as we know it. As Pogo said so long ago, "We have met the enemy, and he is us" (1953). As my mother never tired of saying, we're all our own worst enemies.

There is little doubt in my mind that if we continue (as a society and a world) along our current path, our day are numbered. We're polluting faster than we can find remedies. We're using up resources faster than we can recycle and find substitutes. We're polarizing each other faster than we can make friends. We're oppressing faster than we're freeing. In short, we are doing our damnedest to bring on the end nobody really wants.

It's not a big deal. I mean, why should I get all upset about any of this? If we destroy our basis for living, none of us will be around to be the wiser. OK, a whole lot of people will no doubt suffer and slowly die anquishing and painful deaths, but what the hell, wasn't it worth it. That second X-Box, that 17th Beamer, that €40,000 bottle of wine ... it all was worth it, right up to the end. And since there will be nobody left, there will be no one to give a rat's behind what we had or didn't have before we checked out of life. When we are gone, no one will be left to care one way or the other.

Still, I am one of those helplessly romantic people who think the earth is an overwhelmingly beautiful place. It is full of magic and wonder and beauty. It can put up with abuse than none of us can; it provides for all who are there, untill they take more than they deserve; it is, unquestionably, the greatest mystery that we can imagine. But, what the hell .. there's money to be made. Right.

Personally, I'm not all that excited or depressed about being or not being here when it all goes down the tubes. Chances are very, very good that I'll be gone before it happens. In a couple of decades, I'll barely be a memory in anyone's mind. Still, I have grandchildren, as do my siblings. By default, I have children who are going to outlive me. I may not care about what happens to me -- after all, I had my chance -- but I do care about what happens to them. That's just the kind of person I am. If I merely sit back and watch those who think they know do whatever the hell they please till there's nothing left for anybody, well, then I'm just as guilty as they are. I have no desire to die guilty ... not because I'm afraid I won't get into heaven, but because it simply isn't necessary that I do. I still have a voice (though faint), I still have the opportunity (though diminishing), and I still have the means (though restricted) to possibly instill a moment of doubt about the wisdom of the world as it is in any number of others.

No, it is not for me that I speak. It is for others who so far have no voice, no opportunity, and no means. The difference between me and many folks, but especially between me and the capitalists, is that others, "the other" (in philosophical terms) is more important to me than myself.

I'm not alone, I know. But I also know that I am an anathema to the current rational way of thinking. We are at a crossroads, or a threshold, or whatever. We all have to decide what we want to do. The upside is there are many options available. The downside is that TPTB want to think we don't have them.

You're choice. Your move.

The real problem with "arguments"

We like to think that we live in a rational world, even if there is craziness going on around us all the time. We assume that rational is normal and that craziness is not. Unfortunately, like so many other things, this is merely an assumption.

Though held in high esteem, rationality is little understood by those who advocate it most strongly. In the rational world, if this is right, then that must be wrong; if this is good, that must be bad; if it isn't one, then, by default, it must be the other. This is -- and you'll excuse my directness -- simply insane.

The rational mind, the mind that we exalt these days, is a mind of either-or: there are always only two options -- Republicans or Democrats, freedom or slavery, good or bad, right or wrong, capitalists or communists (or socialists, or whatever else they decide is "the other"). The rational world, it would seem, is reduced a mere black and white. It is this, or it is that. The trouble is, our experience tells us that it is anything but ... the world is not either-or.

Rationality, like so many other well-liked notions, is simply an unquestioned assumption. Who decided when and where that there were only ever to be two options. While I may agree that there are two sides to every question, who decided that we're asking the right question to begin with? This reduction to simplicity is a dangerous path to be following. It assumes that there are only two options. There aren't. There are as many options as we decide to allow.

I have long advocated that we start thinking about "reasonable" and abandon "rational". To be reasonable is to acknowledge that there may be a third, fourth, or who knows how many other options available. To be reasonable means we can try this because it seems like a really good idea, and when we find out it isn't working as expected, we can modify it, fine-tune it without having to throw out everything we've discovered thus far. To be reasonable means that everyone has a say, and what makes the most sense becomes clear.

Unfortunately, capitalists (to simply stay with the topic) are not reasonable people. They are absolute rationalists. The fact that their entire system is built upon questionable assumptions not only never occurs to them, they deny that such is even a possibility. If you base all you believe on one single notion -- in the capitalist's case: private property -- then a questioning of that notion, that assumption in this case, is a life-threatening act. As such, they are willing to resort to life-threatening actions to enforce their point of view (cf. the current escalation of political violence against the citizenry).

Capitalism can only work if private property is the non plus ultra of human existence. It is the most fundamental, basic and essential assumption upon which the whole idea rests. This is an assumption. And one which I question vigorously.

It has become so that property rights have now superceded, have now overwhelmed, human rights. We -- you and I -- both as members of a community and living breathing human beings, are no where near as important as whatever resources may be under our feet. We have created a system of belief that holds to be true that things are more important and more valuable that people. And this, all based on an assumption. It is supported, of course, by another assumption, that the world can be reduced to either-or, that we live in a rational world. This assumption is just as faulty.

The time has come, dear reader, that we all start questioning assumptions.

Even more problems with "arguments"

In most general terms, we can sum up our discussion thus far as "capitalism is an economic system that uses 'stuff' (money and resources) to produce other 'stuff' in an attempt to increase well-being". Like any other statement (and by now you should be getting the hint: the use of some words simply demand further clarification), this one raises a couple of questions as well, such as "Whose stuff?" and "Whose well-being?"

Today's free-market advocate will tell you that you should be able to use whatever is available anywhere it may be and in the end, all of us will benefit or be better off. I don't think that's a misstatement of the argument that is at the root of the current economic debate. And here we come to the crux of the matter.

The entire capitalist argument (more stuff is better for everyone) simply holds no water and this for the very simple reason that is based on an assumption, and this assumption is faulty. We assume that more stuff is better, even in the face of contradictory information. Yes, more stuff is better for some (limited few) but not for everyone. The assumption is that if I am doing better, you'll do better too. There's no evidence to support this, it is merely an assumption. In fact, capitalism (both as conceived and practiced) is built on a whole number of assumptions, all of which fail to hold up under scrutiny, but more on that later.

The real issue with all argumentation these days is that the arguments themselves are built upon assumptions that are never questioned, they are simply taken as givens, as if they were normal. They aren't. Capitalism, for example, has told us that more is better and the word they use to describe that is "progress". To them it is progress that we now have cars, and high-speed transportation, for example. These things make our lives "better". But what is better? That I have to spend four hours a day getting to and from work? That I see my family less because I spend so much time commuting? That the pollution that is caused by both cars and high-speed transportation which is demonstratably ruining our health and threatening the planet is a small price to pay for what? convenience? What is better about that?

We pick certain things, say they are more important than others, and everything is OK. But it isn't. Yes, we've been able to develop cures to a lot of diseases, and we've created as many more (either through stress or genetic and chemical manipulation that could eradicate our entire species); we have reduced the amount of time we need to meet our basic needs, but we've filled that free time with producing for others so that they may have even more than they already do; we have developed technologies that could connect us instantly, but we use them to oppress and control. You will have to excuse me if I don't get the whole "progress" argument.

The reason I don't is because it, like capitalism, is based on an assumption: more is better. We know that in most cases this is not true. Chocolate is good, more chocolate may have adverse effects on our health; security is good, more security quickly becomes surveillance which is not such a good thing. Assumptions are dangerous things. We should be careful when dealing with assumptions. Our biggest problem is that we assume that assumptions are true. They aren't, they are simply assumptions. We need to be able to question our assumptions in order to be clear on what we are really demanding. This is a learnable skill that, unfortunately, most of us have never learned, and which many more have never had the opportunity to learn. Fortunately, it's never too late to learn it.

The next time: a few (hopefully) helpful tips.

More problems with "arguments"

We're actually pretty safe with our assumptions about something as basic and physical as "breakfast". Nobody really cares if you want cold pizza, steak and eggs, cereal, bread and coffee or a three-course warm meal. There are other things, however, that others do care about (for whatever reasons), but they, too, function a lot like breakfast. We do them, believe them, advocate them, support them, and, sometimes even, fight for them ... because we don't realize that, in the end, they're just like breakfast.

Let's stick with "capitalism" because it's something we believe we all know something about and just about every one of us has some kind of opinion about it. When we leave the realm of the concrete (e.g. "breakfast"), we leave the world of "nomal" for the world of "right". We may think it is silly that other people eat cucumbers and tomatoes for breakfast, but as long as their amongst themselves, it really doesn't bother us, it doesn't really affect us, and so we simply don't care. When it comes to abstract ideas (and "capitalism" is an abstract idea), we start thinking in terms of right and wrong. It starts mattering to us because it affects us directly.

What most people overlook at this moment is the fact that we have placed one thing (breakfast) into an individual framework (even though other cultures may do it differently, everyone if free to have for breakfast whatever the hell they like) while the other thing (capitalism) is placed into a collective framework, and by that I mean a framework that extends beyond the individual. Capitalism affects all of us, regardless of culture. (Oh sure, there can be variations as to how it is implemented from culture to culture, but the fundamental principles remain the same.) So, what is this "-ism" that affects us all?

In its simplest form, I suppose we could say that "capitalism" is an economic way of thinking in which capital (most often money, but it could also be resources of other kinds) generates weath. That doesn't sound bad at all, does it? Sounds downright harmless, if you ask me, but we all know that there is a lot of angry discussion surrounding the term these days. My last few posts could be seen by some (not incorrectly) as a direct attack on that very simple principle. What could possibly be wrong with that? It's a good question, and one that deserves an answer.

In our simple definition, we have two concepts that, at least to me, need further clarification: "capital" and "wealth". We think we know what these are, but I would ask, do we really? Let's work backwards. What is "wealth"? In many quarters, this simply means being rich, having a lot of money, having more than enough to satisfy subsistence requirements (food, clothing, shelter) and to be able to have some joy in life. In other words, it has something to do with an abundance of material possessions that makes life "more worth living" (or something like that). If we trace the etymology (history) of the word, we find that it comes from the Middle English "weal", meaning "well-being"; the "-th" ending indicating "a state of"; that is, wealth, at root, means a state of well-being. Hey, who could argue with that?

One problem arises when we mistake the words for the reality. What actually is "well-being"? Do we agree on what the terms means? I don't think so. For some it means having a lot; for others it means have very little (minimalists). Who's right? And then, we have the matter of capital? What's that? As intimated above, sometimes it's money, sometimes it is other things, like land, natural resources, or more).

At this point the observant reader will realize that some kind of tension is building. To move on, we need to resolve that tension, which I'll attempt to do next time.

The problem with "arguments"

Having thought about the last couple of posts, I thought it might be a good idea to take a break and explain something so fundamental that we tend to overlook it. The human mind is a fascinating object of study. How we think, why we think the things we do, how we learn, what we remember ... the list truly goes on and on ... are really quite mind-boggling subjects. We know something about how the brain functions, but we know very little about how it works. And, what is even more important, we have hardly any idea what "consciousness" is and how it may (or may not) be related to the brain. All we know is that the brain is involved.

Now, I'm not going to clear these matter up by any means. I'm not even going address most of them. What I am going to address is one way that we come to believe things and why we are ready to accept some arguments while rejecting others, even though those we reject may be more compelling. I'm going to keep this simple, but I'm not going to make it simplistic. There are some things about the process than everyone can, and should, know.

We all gather sensory data through our five senses (smelling, tasting, touching, hearing, and seeing). We don't, however, gather exactly the same data. Instead, we gather this data and process it through all the filters that our parents, teachers, society, culture, and friends have helped us to create. We like certain things, dislike others, really love some things and hate others. We all experience the "same reality", but we process it in very individual ways. That's one side of the coin.

While the five senses are a great starting point for physical things, they are not so well suited for abstract ideas and notions, things that happen only in our minds. Some people prefer red to blue, others prefer liberals to conservatives, some think capitalism is good, others that it is evil incarnate. This kind of perception is what has always fascinated me the most.

The point is this: regardless of what we get through our senses, we process it through filters that we have consciously and unconsciously created. Our experiences, upbringing, society and culture have all played a very significant role in all this. I have to go back to my overworked "breakfast" example to explain: What do you eat for breakfast (usually)? Why? When you look around the world to see what other people think what constitutes a "normal" breakfast, you will most likely find yourself asking, "Why would anybody eat that for breakfast?" Yes, why? Because to them, it is normal. Whatever any of us has for breakfast is simply "normal" to us. No more, no less. There is not one normal, but all normals are equal. What we know, what we are used to, what seems to suit us is what we consider "normal". There is nothing to prove it, there are no reasons to justify it that would convince others to change their ways. It is simply a matter of assuming that whatever we (and those around us) do is "normal". In other words, normalcy is really nothing more than an assumption.

Assumptions, however, are rather tenuous things. What happens if we find that our assumptions are misplaced? What happens if it becomes clear that our assumptions are harmful? What do we do?

Good questions. More next time.

So what's stopping us?

If you've been following for a while, I think you can see a pattern forming. We need to talk. In order to talk decently and reasonably to one another we have to acknowledge the other person as an equal discussion partner. If we can do that, we need to be free enough to present a position without automatic and immediate rejection; it needs to be taken seriously. And, we can and will be different, but there is no one different that's always right. I think it makes sense, and the feedback I've received over the past couple of weeks confirm that I'm not the only one that thinks so.

So, the question immediately presents itself as to why it's not working. Oh, I don't mean between you and me. I'm talking in general. There's no real public discussion and debate. There's a lot of ignoring and ignorance being spread around. There's categorical rejection of certain ideas. We would rather label than lucidly consider who is saying what and why. There seems to be a theory-practice divide opening up. Maybe Jan van de Snepscheut was right: "In theory, there is no difference between theory and practice. But, in practice, there is." What is this hurdle that we can't seem to get over?

I – personally – think the answer is pretty obvious. It's exactly as Pogo once remarked, "We have met the enemy, and he is us."

The consequence of the line of thought I've been laying out lately is this: everybody has to change, at least a little bit. I'm not talking about weighing mine against yours or my buddy Jake's change against your Aunt Edna's. No, we simply all have to get off of whatever center we happen to think we're on and take another shot at it all.

From what I can see, nobody's got very many answers, but we've got one helluva lot of problems – or issues, if you prefer – and we need to start thinking about which ones we want to deal with and who else might be interested in helping out. But we won't, because we can't, and we can't, because we really don't want to. Change is something that everybody else ought to do, never something that anyone can expect of us.

Well, I never expect of anyone something I'm not willing to do myself. I've made my move. When are you going to make yours?

Can you get there from here?

I've been told that up in Maine, if you ask for directions, the most likely response you'll get is "you can't get there from here" (and then they go on to explain how you do). That's got to be what a lot of you are thinking right now, and I certainly don't blame you. The demands are high, but so are the stakes. It won't be easy, but it's possible.

One of the most fortunate twists of fate I've had in my life was the opportunity to study at the University of Giessen (Germany) in the late 70s/early 80s. Most of all, I had the privilege of having a couple of the most insightful and profound thinkers of the time as my teachers and mentors (Hans-Eberhard Piepho & Lothar Bredella), neither of whom any of you have ever heard of, but that doesn't diminish the power of their thinking one iota. Piepho was pragmatic and probably the best foreign-language teacher I'd ever experienced, but his whole focus was on communicative competence. Bredella was the philosopher who had studied with Hans-Georg Gadamer and who introduced me intensely to the thinking of the contemporary German philosopher Jürgen Habermas, undoubtedly one of the profoundest thinkers of the 20th century. What all of these guys had in common, however, was an unshakeable faith in the human capability to communicate reasonably, to discourse rationally, and as a result, come to understandings that were grounded enough to actually make the world a better place. We could use more of them these days.

Although idealists in the philosophical sense of the world, they could envision what is possible. Through their practice they instilled that vision into their students. As bright, and capable, and deep as they might have been, they engaged their students as partners – equal partners – in the search for knowledge and truth. They ... I know it is hard to believe ... practiced what they preached.

We need to talk, discourse, discuss, and debate, but not to see who in the end is right and who is wrong, not to win or score points or obtain bragging rights. No, we need to communicate. We need to acknowledge our discussion partners not as adversaries to be defeated, but rather as agents of agreed-on change. We must accept the "other" as an free and equal participant in the discussion that brings benefit to all. And that's the challenge that many will have difficulty overcoming.

What do we really want, take 2

Unlike a cat chasing its tail, sometimes it's simply good to get back to where you started. We need to talk, find consensus, listen, discuss, debate. It should be clear that the reciprocity of which I spoke a couple of posts ago when discussing the establishment of moral standards is actually applicable in more realms than just the moral. Personally, I think all decisions are moral decisions, but I understand that some others might want to take a more restricted view. Nevertheless, we can't make any headway at all if we don't recognize certain truths as being self-evident. And, regardless of how self-evident they may be, we should still be clear on what they mean.

To reduce it to simplest terms, as I see it, two conditions must be met in order for a true discussion, for true discourse to take place: the participants must be free, that is, free to express their views, free to think differently, free to think outside or inside the box, free to think in directions that you may have never thought of; and, the participants must be equal, that is, when it comes to discourse, serious discourse, there can be no hierarchy, no better-than, no smarter-than, no tougher-than.

I know, I know ... I can hear some of you squealing already, but sorry, we need to have a common understanding of what the terms "freedom" and "equality" mean, and beyond that, we need to understand what it means to live by those understandings and not just play lip-service to them. For the most part, most of us have given up our equality to the experts (cf. "Roszak and Eliot", "Expert terror"), and most of us have given up our freedom, most often for security (cf. "Fear of freedom", "Free – really?") . But I'm here to tell you: we don't live in a safe world. We never did, and, chances are very good, if we ever do, it will be a long time coming. And moreover, a whole lot of the mess we're in these days is simply because we let the so-called experts have their way.

At the end of the day, then, don't you think it might be about time to finally realize that if we're going to be affected about whatever is decided, maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be a bad idea if we were part of the decision-making process? I do.

Thinking outside the box

Terry Pratchett once wrote, "I'll be more enthusiastic about encouraging thinking outside the box when there's evidence of any thinking going on inside it." Encouraged by what I wrote about last, I'm making a ruling that there is some going on in there, so there's nothing stopping us from getting out of it and thinking further.

You see, the reason I figured the guy I wrote about last time missed the point is because he wants to apply a top-down solution to a bottom-up problem. The things that affect you the most are the things that need to be addressed most expediently. Yes, you have to get everyone involved as much as possible. You win "converts" by demonstrating that it is worth the time and effort to self-direct as much as possible of one's own fate.

There will come a time when you have to go beyond the community; but, when a wider range of communities find agreed to solutions, then the next level of the hierarchy, so to speak, can be addressed (or eliminated, as the case may be ... we may not need as many layers of anything as we currently have). After all, we need roads and water supplies and sewage treatment and garbage collection and energy and telecommunications, and these simply need to be addressed on a larger scale, but we haven't taken the time to figure out what that scale might be.

We'll never figure it out, though, if we keep insisting in thinking the same old way we always have. That's where we are right now, carping at each other with such useless verbiage that nothing at all can get done and the divide-and-conquer types have free reign in, well, dividing and conquering. We're not doing ourselves a favor by not talking. It hasn't got us anywhere and insisting on perpetuating what isn't working is simply not very bright as I see it.

I can't say it enough: we need to start thinking seriously about what is really important to us. We need to start talking seriously about the things we take seriously. And, we have to be open enough to the "other" to recognize that s/he just might have something to say, as an individual, that is worth listening to.

Thinking inside the box

Things aren't like a lot of us would like them to be, and what is surprising is that every now and again, we find ourselves agreeing with people whom we probably wouldn't even normally talk to. Don't you just hate it when that happens? You always hope nobody you know is around to see it.

Not too long ago, a friend suggested I read something in the American Conservative, a publication, I'll admit, I don't have RSS feeding me, but in keeping with my policy of if-you-really-want-me-to-I'll-read-it, well, I read it. It was a coherent, fairly well argued piece about fixing Congress. It should be clear by now that I'm not all that convinced there's anything left to fix, but in principle, I found myself agreeing with a lot of what he had to say: his point that it is really about governance is, to my mind, spot on, and we would agree that the left-right debate is a red herring; we agree, as well, that in essence money and power are at the heart of the issue, and in this regard, we also agree that whatever solutions may be found can and must cut widely across currently accepted ideological lines; we agree that the people most affected should be part of deciding on the solution, and that's what we have lost most touch with. In other words, it has everything to do with being serious about things that matter to you. And the place you have to start is by talking to people, and very often people you wouldn't normally be talking to.

His approach, of course, was one inside the box. And I suppose if you're in a box, or think you are, that's the best place to start. What encouraged me was not that we disagreed on points but that we agreed that if we didn't start talking to one another, openly and seriously, we were in for more trouble than we really all are bargaining for. As I've been advocating for some time now: we need to start figuring out what matters to us as why, and then we need to figure out ways to get things to be the way we want them to be.

And there you have it: it's more about we than me. That's why too many people are probably not going to get it.

Is that it?

While just about all that was presented last time found, I'm pretty sure, little opposition, things are going to get interesting now. I think most of us agree: if it's legal, it's right. But the question we need to pose, then, is: are their unjust laws? This may be a bit more difficult to decide.

What the banks did leading up to the financial crisis of 2009 was legal. Was it right? Was it good? Was it moral? What the banks are doing now: is it right? Is it good? Is it moral ... it's legal, but ... ? What about the laws denying African-Americans the right to vote and to be subjected to segregation? They were laws. It was legal, but was it right? Was it moral? Or, to go abroad: in 1938 the Nazis passed a law that Jews weren't human. It was legal, to be sure, but was it right? Was it moral? In other words, can there be such a thing as unjust laws?

I think we can agree that there is. We've encountered them repeatedly in our history ... not just American but the history of humanity. I chose today especially to raise the issue because the American Revolution that so many love so well ... the all-holy Constitution, the Declaration of Independence ... were all based on the premise that there are unjust laws. No taxation without representation. (But the Boston Tea Party was an act of terrorism against a global corporation, the East India Company, which was using the king for its own purposes ... how ironic is that in light of the recent Tea-Party rantings and the drivel being spewed about in the current presidential campaigns?)

And, now, if we think the thought a bit farther, could it be that laws can be made that are, as the Americans like to phrase it, "constitutional", but at the same time be immoral, that is, unjust? Most definitely, and it is happening repeatedly. Examples? Why, of course: the Patriot Acts, the National Defense Act (my personal favorites, which is why I mention them so often). This puts a lot of things on whole new footing, does it not? What we find is that justice, morality, and all that goes with it, depend on more than just feelings or laws. We are called upon to actually think about what we believe and what we hold to be good and true and right. What one person or just one group thinks to be that may not be what another group thinks, so we need to be able to discuss and debate and consensually determine what such moral standards are. And if we can't talk to each other anymore? What then?

If you ask me, things are not looking all that good for the home team.

What's the big deal?

Good question: what is the big deal? I mean, after all, we're all grown up, mature, and tolerant people, right? No, wrong. OK, we've got separation of church and state and the Constitution in the US, for example, guarantees that separation, right? No, wrong. Well, OK, we're all just good people; we know what we're doing, right? No, I'm sorry, wrong again.

We're not all that grown up or mature. Consider the fanaticism with which, say, Americans (or now the the European Soccer Championships are in full gear, we could use a lot of Europeans as a similar example) get absolutely rabid about sports. That's adolescent, I'm afraid. It's a my-team-is-better-than-your-team; my-dad-can-beat-up-your-dad mentality. Sports have their place, but it shouldn't be at the top of our priority list.

Well, OK, there's at least the separation of church and state, but that's an illusion, too. The moment Bush II can speak about faith-based initiatives from the bully pulpit of the presidency that line has been crossed. The moment that Falwells and Robertsons mobilize voters to vote their beliefs, not their reason, that line has been crossed. The moment it's about Biblical justification for the passage of laws (be it teaching of creationism or attacking Planned Parenthood), the line has been crossed. We love to point the finger at the Iranians, but it's not all that clear to me that America is much different in a lot of regions of the country.

But, we're good people, aren't we? Maybe. But how do we decide what is good? If the pope or the preacher or the evangelist shouldn't dictate what we believe, who should? Anyone? Should we really figure it out for ourselves? People like to rant and rave against Islam or Christianity, but when you consider how many Christian denominations are existant in the US (and yes, that is an American phenomenon), they can't agree on their religious beliefs, so why do we thing they would have anything to say about our moral positions? Right. We're back where we were with our thoughts about the state of political discourse these days: that would be nowhere.

Until we're ready to take "the other" seriously, until we're ready to truly listen to what someone else has to say, until we're ready to engage our discussion partner as an equal partner, we'll just keep yelling and barking and snapping at each other as we are right now. And, once again, look where that has got us.

Legacy of the Enlightenment

For most of my adult life, I firmly believed that reason would prevail. Now, I'm not so sure. Oh, I wouldn't mind being wrong, but doubts are starting to rise. Why? Well, just chalk it up to experience.

My recent trip abroad did little to resolve those doubts. How can reason even stand a chance if there's no dialog? I'm not talking about the friendly, idle chit-chat and small talk that occurs at the cash register in the store. I'm not talking about the let's-get-caught-up-on-the-time-apart of family get-togethers. And, I'm not talking about what passes for discussion when it broadcast after or around the news. No, I'm talking about real people discussing real issues with each other in real time.

Maybe I just missed it, but politeness and political correctness seem to have moved so far into the foreground that honest expression of a position on an issue makes too many people feel uncomfortable. When the semblance of a dialogue takes place, it is more like a statement and re-statement of positions, not a back-and-forth of ideas and facts supporting contentions and arguments. Whatever you do, don't confuse the issue with facts.

It's too bad, really. Though the US seems to be stuck in the times of its founding, it has lost much of that Spirit of the Enlightenment which drove much of the discussion of the time: in the Enlightenment, the unstated ideal was that the best argument would prevail. What I'm seeing though is the position that carries the day is the one whose proponents simply persevere in presenting.

What can I say?

It struck me recently that not only are attention spans diminishing at a frightening rate, and not only are sound-bites getting shorter, they're also becoming emptier. When is the last time you heard a clipped quip on the news that really made any sense? I'm guessing it's been a while, because I'm having trouble finding people who say anything anymore. You would think in a situation like this one, words would become all the more important, but it seems to me that they are being emptied faster than the phrases that are supposed to give them meaning.

How about "free market"? There's one that gets bandied about a lot. My question is, though, just how free is a market if a non-market player steps in and hands over almost a trillion dollars to keep it alive? I'm not sure I understand either part of that phrase in that context? Or, how about "liberal"? I like that one too. It derives from the Latin liber, meaning free, but it is used at least in America these days as an epithet for socialist dictatorship, which is about as "unfree" as you can get. How does that happen? Or, what about that other favorite epithet of my youth, the really bad tag to hang on someone, "communist"? We don't use that at all any more as a term of derision. Why is that? Oh, right, because the only remaining communists in the world, the Chinese, our preferred trade partner, have outed themselves as the biggest capitalists of all.

I think I'm onto the problem, though. We don't use many words as words anymore. We prefer labels. Label someone as something, and you don't have to talk to them, you don't have to discuss anything with them, you can simply ignore them, because who would wanted to be associated with "those types"? This has long been a ploy in politics, but it has begun to permeate every aspect of our lives. We find the technique employed in the media, in schools, most definitely in sports, but at home as well.

I'm not the first to notice this, believe me. These are what Pörksen calls "plastic words", they are "argument killers": throw these words in to a discussion or debate and it grinds to a screeching halt. There's no way to counter them: they are so embedded in our personal ideologies that no criticism will be tolerated. But that's the problem: they are the means of argumentation of intolerance. It would do us well to start thinking about words and then start using them as they were intended: as a way of communication.

Time to talk

Violence is a sign of total frustration. When someone is backed into a corner and escape seems impossible, a common response is simply violence.

It is particularly sad, however, when it is the government – be it municipal, state, or federal – which feels compelled to act this way, for they are, at least in theory, servants of the public. I know it doesn't seem like it. Politics and governance have appeared to take on a lives of their own, or at least they appear to be living in their own little world. That's another sign of being overwhelmed by reality: retreating into one's own world.

For a good number of people, this is the time to find the guilty and ensure they are punished, but that's a really bad idea. Not only is there no one single entity, institution, group or person who can be blamed. We're all to blame. As George Carlin once quipped, "You're here, you're guilty, end of story." Well, almost. This is not the time to fix the blame, it's time to start fixing the problem.

Why? Because we're so good at it? Hardly. Because we know what needs to be done? Not in the least? Because we have a good chance of coming to a consensus on the way forward? Absolutely not. No, we have to start working on the fix simply because we have no choice. We've ranted and raved, thrown things, broken lots of stuff, almost burned the place to the ground, but, as expected, none of that has helped. No, now we have to take a deep breath, get calm, look each other in the eye, and do what we've practically forgotten how to do: we've got to start talking with one another.

You'll notice I said "with" ... not "to" or "at", not "out", "down" or "up". No, with. We've got to re-learn the lost arts of listening, reflecting, considering, questioning, and discussing. None of these need to be done with complete objective coolness. Passion is allowed, but not obsession. Assertiveness is allowed, but not abuse. Vigor is allowed, but not violence. But we have to start talking again.

Discussion is not a financial or economic method, so the moment we exchanged our society for a mere economy, we took away from ourselves perhaps our most powerful human problem-solving tool. We exchanged cleverness for clubs, reason for rubber bullets, and common sense for sonic cannons.

A recent article in New Scientist [online] by David Sloan Wilson, entitled "Selfless evolution: An idea rejected" shows how even Darwin acknowledged the necessity for a group selection function in evolution, that the Spencerian notion of "the survival of the fittest" has only short-term, but never long-term benefits. And the recent financial crisis has shown -- once again -- what happens when you think short-term for too long a time. Cooperation, not competition, is the strategic approach, and societies are (or at least should be) based on cooperation. So, it's time to put the economy in its place, take back our society and start talking again. My grandkids will thank you all for it, believe me.