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Die Zeitgeist / The Spirit of the Times

PDF:Die Zeitgeist – Waterstone

“About a third of my cases are suffering from no clinically definable neurosis, but from the senselessness and emptiness of their lives. This can be defined as the general neurosis of our times.” (Jung)

It pleases me greatly whenever I’ve lost my bearings in a foreign city and chance upon a map with an ubiquitous ‘you are here’ marker. The point of reference allows me establish where I am, recalibrate my compass and plot a course to my destination.

Over the past couple of years, it appears some rabble-rouser has gone and removed all the red dots from people’s maps, creating a great deal of confusion and anxiety about the future of society. No one quite knows where they are or how to find their way. Many are questioning where they actually want to go, and whether that place still exists.

This rabble-rouser goes by the name Die Zeitgeist, or ‘The Spirit of the Times.’

A charlatan too swift to apprehend, I have tailed him at a distance and now attempt to elucidate what I think I’ve distinguished. As observed by Jung, “no one can flatter himself that he is immune to the spirit of his own epoch, or even that he possesses a full understanding of it,” therefore this is an exercise of unqualified speculation from an influenced perspective.

All attempts to constrain the breadth and depth of said speculation have been rendered futile on account of the multifarious and unbounded nature of the topic. Insofar as practicable, I have attempted to separate notions into broad chapters, through which a thin thread of progressive development runs.

This analysis is heavily indebted to the works of Jung, Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Goethe, Huxley, Orwell, London, Rand, Plotinus, Plato and Lau Tzu, which explore many of the aforementioned concepts in significantly greater depth. Collectively, they have shaped the lens through which I have endeavoured to interpret the material furnished by being an observer and student of life.

A measure of dishonour is borne on my part as author; for many of the charges laid herein I also level upon myself. As such, I am in no position to wield the authority of one who leads by example. I am however in a position to describe what I see when I look into the mirror, through eyes which have been burned by gazing deeper into Nietzsche’s abyss, and a mind which has been lamed by reality.

I.e. this is an epic rant.

I

PHASES

“Life belongs to the living, and he who lives must be prepared for changes.” (Goethe)

Attempting to apprehend the state of the world today, we need to begin with a basic premise: that society, like an individual growing up, moves through phases. Given the spans of our lifetimes tend to play out within one distinct phase, we often overlook the fact they change and that vastly different phases have existed throughout recorded history. We also take for granted that the phase we find ourselves living in is enduring, and nonchalantly presume it will continue indefinitely.

As surely as day follows night, and we experience the turn of seasons, so too does The Spirit of the Times change, but never is it predictable.  Much like The Phantom, the mysterious essence of Die Zeitgeist remains something of an obscure constant, although the individual behind the façade of purple Lycra changes with each generation.

The Occident today is in a political phase we know as ‘democracy’ and an economic phase known as ‘capitalism.’ These underpinnings have allowed for increasing quantities of excess libido (living energy) made available to those fortunate enough to be living atop the upper crust[1] of civilisation. For the best part of the past four hundred years, the Western world has been immersed in the powerful ideological phase of scientific rationalism, which today is the concretised and validated way of attaining to knowledge.

Representative democracy and capitalism are organic systems which have evolved and adapted through changing circumstances. Particularly over the last century, both progressed with snowballing scale, complexity and centralisation. The distribution of political and economic power has become gradually more concentrated, and their transparency considerably more inscrutable.

Until recently, the combination of democracy and capitalism have operated reasonably well in maintaining relative civil stability among developed nations. The empirical logic of scientific enquiry has also provided us with myriad advances which have improved quality of life.

However, there comes a point at which an imperfect system fails either due to internal dysfunction or due to its no longer being able to cope with the workload it is subjected to. Towards the end of a system’s life, the inherent dysfunctions and deficiencies become more pronounced, and to compensate for these, untried interventions outside the system’s normal rules are enacted to promote stabilisation. These measures have unintended consequences, some of which we have already observed, and others yet to occur which we are unable to foresee.

Similarly, the rationalistic system we use to make sense of the world around us is pushing against the outer limits of its explanatory power and encountering domains where it is confronted with its own impotence.

There is evidence to suggest all three have passed their noon, but for the moment, the world’s eye is focussed upon the economic system because that is where it has been trained to focus. The economic system is the prevalent God of this epoch, and it is not difficult to see why.

II

DEUS EX MACHINA

“A giant octopus living way down at the bottom of the ocean. It has this tremendously powerful life force, a bunch of long, undulating legs, and its heading somewhere, moving through the darkness of the ocean…it takes all kinds of different shapes – sometimes its ‘the nation,’ and sometimes its ‘the law,’ and sometimes it takes on shapes that are more difficult and dangerous than that. You can try cutting off its legs, but they just keep growing back. Nobody can kill it. It’s too strong and it lives too far down in the ocean. Nobody knows where its heart is.” (Murakami)

Murakami’s metaphor of the octopus utters an eerie likeness to Deus Ex Machina, The God in the Machine. ‘God’ in the sense of Meaning, Truth, Power and the centre of gravity which draws devotion, and ‘Machine’ denoting the scheme of modern civilisation which has its foundation in economics.

Among the most dumbfounding achievements of Die Zeitgeist is the uprooting of God from inside and transplanting it outside, analogous to the displacement of energy away from the Soul.

I can only describe this phenomenon indirectly through association. We can see it if we look to where we vest meaning, truth, power, time and energy. Meaning is vested in brands of dogmatic orthodoxy. Truth is vested in science and reason. Power is vested in currency, aesthetic and intelligence. Time and energy are vested in attaining to power.

Observe the common thread which runs through all these things – they are all notional authorities outside the individual. Together, these notional authorities constitute elements of the machine. By this machine, two imperative functions are served: (1) the support of living (2) the provision of a narrative.

The first function is a practical one, supporting living through a mechanism of economic exchange, wherein the individual barters his time and energy for money; the means to finance his existence. Through the course of his work/employment, he generates goods or services for which others are willing to pay. The time and energy contributions of the individual are known as Labour, and the equipment and structures which facilitate his work is known as Capital.

In order to make for himself a life in familiar society, the individual must surrender to the authorities and subject himself to them. Further, if he is to live without debilitating dissonance, he must also embrace the narrative. The narrative is what allows more of the individual’s life force (libido) to be extracted and keep him in submission to Deus Ex Machina.

In object, the narrative itself is highly intricate, but generally envelops aspects of material wellbeing, some measure of status, and the sequential fulfilment of defined milestones involving education, vocation, relationship and parenthood. Collectively, these form a life narrative or ‘story’ which is equated with meaning and contentment.

Each element of the narrative ostensibly fills a hole in the individual’s life puzzle and has a rôle in reducing or distracting from despair. Consider for example the benefit of possessing material means of survival – being able to exist comfortably without concern for finding your next meal represents a significant reduction in basic anxiety. However, this security of career is akin to a homeless man sent to prison. Though he loses his freedom, he gains the security of a roof over his head and the assurance of being provided his daily bread. Adoption of the narrative is, at its most basic, a trade-off of freedom against certainty.

In establishing and conditioning a prescriptive life narrative, the machine subsumes God. When we examine the terms habitually attached to man’s action toward deity – worship, reverence, sacrifice and devotion, we see that these same terms typify his action towards the narrative and what it encompasses.

Notice that the narrative disregards individual reconciliation and the recognition of internal authority. Rather, it relies upon the imposition of myriad external authorities, both in prescribing what is meaningful, thereby according those things authority, and in its coronation of the institutional and conceptual authorities established within the machine’s framework.

Authority is a crucial consideration because, as its name intimates, it ascribes who or what your life story will be authored by. Authorship can be represented metaphorically by a graveyard of books, each book the narrative of a departed soul. Their covers carry but two lines: a title giving the name of the life, and an author under whose will the narrative was produced. The vast majority of us live out our narratives under the illusion it will be credited to ourselves.

Particularly when we become momentarily cognisant of our loss of authorship, it seems as if the entire apparatus were being directed by an exogenous will, and we are tempted to lay the blame upon fate, a warped world, the devil, or some other such personified archetype.

However, the machine has no will of its own, it is simply that: a machine. Its ingenuity comes from the intention of those who program it and the hands which operate it, and its power is extracted from the fuel which feeds it. Humans are extensions of the machine, and its products are a reflection of its constituents. To the extent it creates oppression, harm, and iniquity; this merely reflects the shadowy, selfish natures within each of us who in some way partake, magnified on a global scale.

To address the question of why we have put God into the machine, it is necessary to consider what a machine fundamentally is – an automated contraption that is designed to do ‘something’ consistently. Two of a machine’s basic qualities are structure and causality. Everything within a machine is underpinned by a structural framework, and effects can be explained via chain of causality – implicitly, there is no room for mystery or abstraction aside from the occasional error or unexpected outcome which is attributed to malfunction or chance.

These qualities are requisites for the rationalist world we have fashioned to free ourselves from the obscurity of those things which we cannot explain. To be civilised entails that the instinctive law of the jungle is replaced with an organised, mechanistic scheme which governs existence. Psychologically, it is a safer world where we are able to reduce, explain and rationalise everything around us through cause and effect. The natural sciences epitomise this frame of thinking, and through our science, we have knowledge, which gives us apparent power over the subject matter.

On the contrary, when we acknowledge effects which have no discernible cause, we are forced to concede they are beyond our understanding, therefore outside our control, and hence we fear them. Fear is a powerful motivator, and unsurprisingly, the radius of the machine’s authority continually expands by inventing explanations because it must always encompass a critical mass of phenomena. If too much content escapes into the void which falls outside the machine’s sphere (or bubble) of hegemony, it will begin to lose both its gravity and monopolistic hold on God.

Concomitant with the rise of the God in the Machine has been the elevation of extrinsic intellectual and aesthetic values and resultant devaluation of intrinsic spiritual values. A significant dilemma thus arises for the individual: how does one reconcile with his soul if it resides outside him? The conclusion which must be drawn is that consciousness cannot move forward until this transfer of value is reversed, and the authority of God is seized from the machine and reclaimed by the individual.

III

THE UNRECONCILED INDIVIDUAL

“In reality the ego is like the clown in the circus, who is always putting in his oar to make the audience think that whatever happens is his doing.” (Freud)

The usurpation of authority is but one of the yokes under which Die Zeitgiest writhes, the second is the fragmentation of the individual.

Fragmentation increasingly manifests itself in lack of direction; with respect to career, relationships, life, and the world in general. Although it would seem these waters aren’t nearly as navigable as they once were, this is not the fundamental problem. It is more a matter of the compass rather than the waters. If the instrument of navigation has been tampered with and points to a magnetic north displaced far from true north, then finding oneself lost at sea is an inevitability.

Drawing a metaphor, an unreconciled, fragmented individual is no better at finding direction than is the sabotaged compass. We have here a root cause for anxiety which can be seen masquerading as the seeking of external validation or sanction for significant life decisions, typically involving such matters as relationships and careers. Such is the disconnection from instinct brought about by its systematised depotentiation by external authorities that the individual is increasingly becoming rudderless, subject to drift in whichever direction the current flows.

For the most part, modern man is not a unity, rather an assemblage of discordant fragments which are constantly chafing against one another. Among these fragments are repressed undesirable traits, splinters from other personalities and remnants from past phases of development. Between these unintegrated fragments, there is friction.

Ego or the ‘I’ is the dominant fragment, which in constellation with its supporting fragments constitutes the governing will, primary identity or ‘self’ of the individual. A defining feature of ego is its specific gravity, or propensity to attract and constellate energy to itself, thereby increasing its mass and developing stronger gravity. It is among the tasks of the ego to superimpose itself above the orphaned fragments[2], and control them as firmly as possible, inhibiting their vocalisation, thereby giving the appearance of a composed and socially functional singularity.

Our ego has at its disposal the operating conscious, and we are under its influence save for those rare episodes were impulses from the unconscious evade its control. The ego is the will that presides over and directs the conscious life. It has been speculated that the unconscious mind may have an equivalent, a shadow ego, which presides over unconscious contents, though its will is not obvious because we cannot observe the effects of its action. In so far as the unconscious life plays out in the psychic as opposed to the physical realm, it is like a ghost driver.

Under repression, these unconscious fragments which do not form part of the ego complex are kept beneath the threshold of consciousness until they are activated either on their own accord or by some exogenous provocation. Particularly in the case of the latter, the individual may be reminded that the problem; the darkness or shadow, actually resides within, that they have an abominable, decaying portrait just like Dorian Gray’s[3]. Consequently, rather than allowing itself to be devalued in order to assimilate the stray waifs and wraiths, the ego inclines to be refractory and seeks to assert and increase its dominance over the fragments.

This refractory tendency has two important energic effects. First, the unassimilated shadow fragments, denied of discharge through integration, instead seek to vent themselves via projection[4], thereby creating major distortions in human interrelations. Second, the assertion of ego expends psychic energy, and because the ego isolates the other fragments, it is unable to access their latent energy, and so must source this energy externally.

Though it is yet to be proven, I would venture this energy requirement is partially responsible for the will to power, whereby the insatiable hunger of ego devours every scrap of energy it can procure, apathetic to how it is appropriated. Evidently, were this energy requirement eliminated, it would follow that ego would be a less militant force.

Moving back to the issue at hand, the more beseeching question is why the individual is unreconciled. The answer lies in accumulative imbalances. Through the process of development, there is a heavy a focus on the external and constant evasion of the internal – we are taught to analyse and absorb from without, but not to introspect within. In consequence, the neglected orphan fragments of the individual become increasingly distant and despondent.

Specialisation dominates our world today, and participation is made easier for an individual who has a highly differentiated function. As such, we see a highly prescriptive developmental path which is heavily biased toward honing either the thinking or feeling functions, but seldom focuses on both.

The material and social reward garnered by someone on either extreme is significantly more than the hybrid who sits in the middle. As a direct consequence, only a small proportion of humanity possess some semblance of balance between left and right, and this will continue so long as our visibility of life objectives does not extend to self-actualisation[5].

So, in order to adapt to the environment, efforts are geared toward distinguishing cultivating one function at the expense of the other. The endowment of libido or living energy held by an individual is directed toward logical (aligned with thinking) or abstract (aligned with feeling) outlets, and this dichotomy is encouraged because what is socially valuable, both with respect to survival and recognition/reward, is bestowed upon specialists who endeavour toward an extreme.

Lack of balance arises because the expansion and dominance of one faculty necessarily comes at the expense and suppression of its counterpart, as psychic energy is rerouted. One strengthens with repeated practice and becomes well honed, whilst the neglected other remains undeveloped or wastes away.  It is the exception to find a prodigious scientist who isn’t somewhat emotionally immature, and equally to find a natural virtuoso who can firmly grasp complex chains of reasoning. This conveniently explains the prevalence of weedy or corpulent nerds, and likewise the tendency of meathead gym junkies to be as dumb as dog shit.

Despite the worldly advantages a highly differentiated function affords, the compounding imbalance leaves in its wake an increasingly dejected orphan with whom we are unreconciled. As the orphan is further repressed, becomes more difficult to handle and hence we experience greater strain and anxiety.

IV

THE GENERAL LEVEL OF ANXIETY

“One becomes accustomed so quickly. A man wants to earn money in order to be happy and his whole effort and the best of his life are devoted to the earning of that money. Happiness is forgotten; the means are taken for the end.” (Camus)

The General Level of Anxiety (GLA) and its interface with the energy permeating the world is a large scale replica of anxiety in the individual psychic apparatus. A proportion of the dissonance is borne by each individual’s personal unconscious, and another is levied upon the collective unconscious.

These unconscious repositories can act as a store or capacitor for ‘undesirable’ psychic energy. On grounds of needing to maintain balance, the carrying and handling capacity of the unconscious substrate is finite, which is evidenced by its repressed contents periodically being discharged with varying frequency and intensity.

To understand why the General Level of Anxiety is increasing and where of undesirable[6]  psychic energy originates, I raise the concept of temporal wish fulfilment. Some way or other, wish fulfilment is what we go about doing in the daily business of life and direct a great deal of our time and energy toward.

When we can provide for our immediate wishes, be they material or emotional, we would assume their gratification means no unresolved negative fragments are left seeking a domicile. When we can conceive and visualise the realisation of other wishes in the future, their lack of resolution is discharged by hope/anticipation. Again, this prevents their being sunk into the unconscious at full potency.

In times when humans wanted only for food and shelter, perhaps the unfulfilled wishes went as far as animalistic relics of lust and a bit of violence. Animals discharge these in the manner nature intended and we don’t give it a second glance. Humans (for their civility) by contrast, supress these desires into the unconscious. In addition to instinctive wishes, Die Zeitgeist imposes heavier burdens upon the individual in terms of the (a) number (b) scale, and (c) complexity of wishes that need to be fulfilled.

These wishes, predominantly material, social and metaphysical in nature, are contingent on scarce resources necessary for their attainment (both material resources, and metaphysical resources such as energy and love), the competition for which makes fulfilment difficult. Despite our striving, there are instances where the expectation of future realisation is crushed by circumstance or the futility of our efforts. For every chronically unfulfilled wish, an attaching negative charge of anxiety is created. Because anxiety interferes with conscious existence and it cannot be fully discharged outwardly, it tends to be repressed into the unconscious, out of sight, but not out of mind.

Unfortunately, the unconscious is a store and not a discharger. What goes into it isn’t destroyed, doesn’t decay, it simply stays there waiting for an opportunity to discharge. As much higher loads of toxicity are dumped into the unconscious, so both the personal unconscious and the collective unconscious become increasingly noxious, volatile, and pressurised. Recalling that its carrying capacity is finite, each escalation heightens both the risk and magnitude of discharge. Discharge occurs through different avenues depending on whether it is the personal or the collective.

It is a derivative effect of unfulfilled wishes that some of the anxiety discharge doesn’t get sunk into the unconscious, but is instead directed to other individuals, significantly through projection of the shadow, but also through the solicitation of pity.

The other primary avenue for discharge is dreams. Freud’s Dream Psychology describes the (personal) unconscious as a deep reservoir which is separated from our (personal) conscious by a powerful governor/sentry which is known as the ‘censor.’

The censor keeps the motility of unconscious fragments in check and is vigorously active in waking life. However, at the fringes of consciousness and in the sleep-state, the censor is sufficiently off-guard to allow some diffusion or discharge of unconscious contents into the perception’s field of view as dreams or nightmares.

A subset of dreams are impulses of repressed wishes seeking to be fulfilled. In order for the repressed wish to convey itself past the sentry, it must hitch a ride as a stowaway on some other inert psychic material residing in the preconscious (memory) which is without emotional intensity, and use it in the manner of a bridge.

When the unconscious material attaches itself to a neutral uncharged memory, the resultant compound becomes a charged or ‘toned’ instance and is conveyed through to perception in the form of a dream wherein the wish is figuratively fulfilled, although it does not come through unscathed; the censor first distorts it.

Discharge from the collective unconscious is considerably more complex. Freud attributed the contents of the unconscious to unfulfilled infantile wishes, primarily of a sexual nature, and these being the cause for both discharges in the forms of neurosis and dreams. Jung’s evaluation is less reductionist and altogether a more reasonable concept to carry for its flexibility.

When Jung discusses the collective unconscious, he is alluding to a repository that contains the sum total of human experience across time, from this substrate spawns universal symbols and myths. If we invoke Jung’s understanding, the collective unconscious is an expanse considerably vaster and more enigmatic than the personal unconscious and contains all manner of phantoms which our present understanding is unable to comprehend.

It is also postulated that these unfulfilled impulses (specifically those which are deemed unacceptable) form a not insubstantial proportion of the material which constitutes the individual’s shadow, the hatred of which is projected onto other individuals subconsciously insofar as they share shadow attributes. This is why it is important to step back and assess what it is about a person that rubs you the wrong way, and attempt to reconcile it with your own shadow. In most cases, the attributes are those same ones you dislike about yourself.

Collective projections are the psychological harbingers to wars. We have all likely heard stories involving someone with an irrational hatred toward another individual which becomes obsessive and results in unconscionable behaviour (no pun intended). If we replace the individuals with populations or states, the large-scale projection stirs analogous obsessive hatred and puts countries on the war path.

Increasingly, I get the impression that the collective unconscious needs to discharge and society is being groomed for another war. Debt is a very fertile ground for the intensification of projections because it is very easy to demonise the imprudent, reckless lender, as it is the blasé, extravagant borrower. It remains to be seen whether the current situation will be resolved without recourse to conflict.

IV

AFFLICTIONS OF DIE ZIETGEIST

“I inquired what wickedness is, and I didn’t find a substance, but a perversity of will twisted away from the highest substance – towards inferior things, rejecting its own inner life and swelling with external matter.” (St. Augustine of Hippo)

An impression of Die Zeitgeist can be gauged by observing the behaviours and propensities of the mass. Combing through my collected notes for patterns, I have cautiously rendered them into distinct phenomena. The unreconciled individual and the rise in the general level of anxiety previously described are the higher level infirmities, beneath which lie a second tier of comorbid afflictions common to our time.

Here I have struggled to separate the two elements of Die Zeitgeist. The spirit of the times exists in both the conscious and unconscious realms. Perceived as an iceberg model, it is composed of social consciousness; that visible portion which sits above the waterline, and submerged beneath it the collective unconscious.

Most of the phenomena are observable constellations of behaviours, occurring with high frequency, which manifest in the conscious realm, but which originate from unconscious sources. For this reason, were society a patient being diagnosed, they would well be classed as collective neuroses.

a.       Emotional Hypochondriasis (Dramatism)

Look to the online ravings of many teenagers and twenty-somethings and you will be hit with an overdose of drama.  As an analyst, I am certain that the mini-celebrity status enjoyed by those self-indulgent enough to post every sordid detail of their lives online is illusory and exists entirely within the mind. Perhaps they are not prepared to accept that the vast majority of the world is too busy indulging their own vanity to care about their mountainous molehills.

Among the subjects of this exhibitionism, drama features prominently. Personified, drama is an insufferably vain addict who draws nourishment from external attention. Drama, and for that matter any indulgence of vanity, is necessary insofar as we are unable to reconcile with the prospect of worthlessness; we must place ourselves in a frame in which the world revolves around us. We like the idea of gravity, because only an object with substance may possess this force of attraction. An apparition or hallucination which lacks a physical presence hasn’t the power to pull.

Western media creates material anxiety through what it depicts and glorifies.  Conditioned by unremitting exposure to warped media, the presence of drama in relationships and life in general is regarded as normal. This to the point where there is an inclination to dramatise situations and create drama where it does not exist.

Oftentimes these tendencies manifest in relationships, where the dramatist self-sabotages by failing to communicate properly and openly with the other, hence allowing the drama to escalate.

Instead of discussing the matter in a rational and adult manner with the other, they instead develop an often embellished story which they then relate to close ‘friends.’

I employ inverted commas here because ‘friend’ is another term whose definition has become devalued. A ‘strong’ friend will set aside predisposition, be as objective as possible, even at the risk of inflicting harsh truths. The ‘weak’ friend will be biased in favour of the dramatist, lending their support and empathy, thus strengthening the embellishment through confirmation bias. This is how small trivial problems can escalate to threaten the survival of a relationship.

The gods of pleasure and pain make for harsh taskmasters. To overcome the feeling of fetid stagnation that issues from a highly routinised existence within the machine; the boredom of persisting in a relentless tepid climate, many have taken to oscillating between Saharan heat and Arctic cold; moving between the poles of pleasure and pain in order to feel alive. Drama is needed to drive this oscillation, and it is a reflection of the quickening pulse of society that it occurs with higher frequency, shorter wavelength and heightened amplitude.

Emotional Hypochondriasis is a systemic problem which results in the semi-aware arrogation of libido. Heartstrings are the conduit through which this arrogation is made possible. Obligation is an instilled value across most cultures; obligation which incapacitates individuals and binds them to live for others. One’s own burden is weight enough to bear, but we live under a value system where the individual is expected to laden himself with the burdens of others, as well as his own.

In consequence, there is a loss of energy though friction. Because the bearing of exogenous emotional burden is not natural, it is resisted by the instinctive part of our nature, and creates discord between the instinctive survivalist and the conditioned martyr.

Wherever possible, the focus should be to minimise friction in life precisely because it results in wastage and deadweight loss. Emotional Hypochondriasis – the incessant petitioning for others to bear some share of one’s burden, does nothing for the cause of forward evolution.

b.      Confusion / Psychic Weakness

Increased confusion is an antecedent to Emotional Hypochondriasis. As I overviewed in a prior analysis some years ago, we have a trend of developmental acceleration, seeing children growing up faster than ever before, pushed into adult spheres before their minds have sufficient ability to cope, let alone understand; one example being relationships.

The individual psyche been confused and subdued to the point it no longer appears to trust its own volition. In particular, I refer instances where external sanction is sought to ratify important life decisions. A cohesive individual who is attuned to their  instinct and conscience should not need to seek a second opinion on his or her own major life undertakings.

But for the unattuned individual, when problems or impasses arise within these spheres and there is no adequate authority, the result is bewilderment. Emotion usurps reason, and instead of apprehending the issue with a measured, rational, adult approach, the individual resorts to juvenile tactics; most commonly under the broad categories of aggression, manipulation, aloofness, delusion, and self-pity.

We all like to think that our lives are difficult, stressful and that no-one understands what we’re going through; that somehow we have been singled out by some greater force to experience unique living anxiety.

As to why ‘first world problem’ syndrome occurs, I would posit the gash of adversity has not cut deep enough for true pain to be felt, and therefore the threshold of suffering is necessarily much shallower. This explains why young people disintegrate when a month-long relationship breaks up; their emotional defences have not been put through the same inuring fire as someone who has seen war; they do not possess an adequate relative reference point, nor coping strength or resilience.

Lower handling capacity has dire ramifications for the psychic response to shock. If you’ve spent your life living in a temperate climate and are suddenly thrust into Arctic cold, it is safe to assume you won’t know how to survive. Much of Western youth isn’t bloodied and battle-hardened but complacent, docile and feeble – highly vulnerable to psychic shock brought about by phase shifts in Die Zeitgeist. In this regard, Australia will be the canary in the coal mine for it is inhabited by an entire generation that developed in an incubatory bubble, never directly impacted by economic shock, war, or severe adversity on such a scale. It is therefore not surprising that the majority have weak, fragile minds and will hence crumble fastest upon onset of real adversity.

c.       Narrowing of Effective Range

Historically, effective range (associative aptitude) was predominantly curtailed by a predisposition against association too far outside of one’s social class. Increasingly, this narrowness of association is extending to a broader array of qualities, among them appearance and subculture. With each axis of differentiation we recognise and segregate ourselves by, the recognition given to the common thread of our humanity is reduced, resulting in a more fragmented world soul[7].

Differential value is subjective absurdity because it is perceived by the eyes of a society whose ranking criteria is fickle and idiosyncratic; the internal definition within each sub-class tends to be whichever of the three predominant ranking traits they possess in relative advantage to the other. Broadly termed, these traits are material, intellectual and aesthetic supremacy.

For this reason, a highly intelligent person will tend toward evaluating others based on their level of intelligence; habitually looking down upon ‘simple-minded’ people, and similarly why the affluent tend to snub the working class.

Factors such as differentiated schooling, sheltered/insular upbringings and the continued rise of subculture are strongly comorbid with narrow effective range because they are conducive to social fragmentation. Each of these dynamics explicitly create differentiated groups and foster prejudice indirectly through constrained association. When a group of extremists are isolated together, an escalation in their extremism is often observed.

d.      Talismanic Obsession

I wanted to dwell on this topic because the sheer amount of groping for meaning I witness daily indicates that people are falling. The quest for meaning has instigated increasingly outlandish flirtations with talismanic objects and rituals. The term ‘talisman’ is here extended to both physical objects (traditional talismans) and sinks (activities) into which individuals channel living energy or libido.

Where there is an absence of some activity (work, television, social interaction etc.) that captivates sensory attention, many people experience a feeling of emptiness. The emptiness issues partly from their being uncomfortable in the deafening silence of introspection. As a pastime, introspection isn’t terribly popular because it forces upon the individual a confrontation with his or her own shadow. The dilemma of avoiding this conversation and dealing with emptiness has prompted us to create a veritable smorgasbord of filling provisions with dubious nutritional value.

These provisions are talismans and sinks – perversions of libido (living energy) which distract attention from introspection and attempt to overcome the unreconciled void through extrinsic means.

With respect to talismans proper, the primitive practice of charging random objects with psychic energy remains alive and well. There is no substantive difference between the confidences of a tribal warrior wielding his spear imbued by the village Witch Doctor, than a modern day ‘disciple’ with his crucifix, rabbit foot or quartz crystal.

In the natural world, these items exist as inanimate objects, but in the psychic realm, they have mana[8] attached to them. Particularly under circumstances and situations entailing high uncertainty and insecurity, we observe a reversion to this ‘magical’ practice because there is a belief that god (in the sense of power and meaning) is without and not within.

Sinks (activities into which time is sunk which don’t materially or spiritually enrich) operate on a similar premise; to address anxiety in a way that is externally focussed and evades introspection. So too with the vesting of authority in ‘experts’ and the creation of gods in entertainers.

What is striking about talismans is that they are all forms of external authority which have arisen in part because humanity has been disabused of its natural compulsion to trust its own instinct and recognise internal authority. The creature has had its senses blunted and been trained to heed directives from external authorities and idols, almost without question, and is left in a state of confusion in the absence of authority.

Whether it be an object (magic eight ball, religious totem), a person (celebrity, guru, clairvoyant) or activity (work, television), any authority to which we cede our living energy or time should be subjected to a test or interrogation of motive. Where there is a clear reason to entrust time and libido (for example, working to earn a living or to create) or necessity, so be it. But where the motives are less noble, particularly those of distracting or escaping from the self, we should question why we are doing it and whether that time and energy could be better directed.

V

THE DIONYSIAN SHIFT: VICE & FOLLY

“It is not man who counts, but his one differentiated function. Man no longer appears as man in our collective culture: he is merely represented by a function, what is more he identifies himself with this function and denies the relevance of the other inferior functions.” (Jung)

Ancient Greek philosophy distinguishes two polar opposites, the Apollonian character, representing the mind, form, order, reason, and moderation, against its opposite, the Dionysian, which encompasses the heart, abstraction, chaos, emotion and indulgence. In a very simple reduction, the extremes could be represented as ‘work’ and ‘play.’

The ideal proportion between the two is not the topic of consideration because they are qualitative forces which evade numerical measurement. We can however make broad, relative observations in the balance of Apollonian and Dionysian leanings between individuals, cultures, institutions, and epochs.

A society with too great an Apollonian dominance becomes patriarchal, oppressed and austere. It petrifies and its movement is lamed.

A society with too great a Dionysian dominance becomes shambolic, superficial, and complacent. It dissolves and its sight is blinded.

When approached from the standpoint which views equilibrium as the optimal state, then if there is an escalating imbalance toward one pole, so too is there accretion in the countervailing force which eventually deposes whatever mode is incumbent[9]. The one gives rise to the other as surely as night follows day.

Following the receding of the Apollonian dominance after second world war, Die Zeitgeist is presently gripped by a growing Dionysian dominance. Particularly amongst the younger generations, this shift toward the Dionysian pole is markedly pronounced. Heavier indulgence is the counter to more strenuous conditions of existence and it is strikingly evident in their speak, dress, occupations, distractions, values and mentality.

Continuing shifts have a cascading character; with each new generation, the percentage of dominance increases such that Generation-Y may be 70% Dionysian, and Generation-Z 80% Dionysian, until such time as there is a shock, such as war, which causes inversion. At the other end of the cascade, older, less Dionysian generations are influenced by the times, so become more Dionysian, and the oldest, least Dionysian generations die out. In this way the entirety of society undergoes a secular shift.

In character, we could take the example of a Paris Hilton and a Sigmund Freud and ask which one modern day society most closely resembles. Figurative auto-erotic stimulation, creation for its own sake, embellishment serving no functional purpose. We live in a world where entire cities rise for show rather than necessity. Our society is Dionysian, and its prominence is most clear in the dominions of vanity and kitsch.

a.       Ascendency of Vanity

Some years ago I was quoted as saying “stupidity is the world’s greatest disease.” I now have reason to retract this statement – for stupidity has been displaced with a viler affliction: vanity. Vanity is the world’s greatest disease. A society full of stupid people is bad, but a world of vain ones is catastrophic.

Having been a feature of humanity for time immemorial, vanity is not a recent phenomenon, however the past decade has seen an extreme escalation in its intensity. Today is an era of rancid excess where many of the dividends of time and energy afforded by technology and development have been squandered into pagan pursuits, decadence and surreal indulgences.

A moderate amount of vanity is a tolerable vice, but it becomes dangerous when it holds enough sway to have a meaningful impact in driving misallocation and appropriation of productive resources. Last week, I walked past two bakeries that sold baked goods exclusively for dogs within a space of half an hour. No further comment need be made.

b.            Ascendancy of Kitsch

Many a life now appears to be a cheap, mass-produced knock-off. Kitsch, as an ideal, represents the devaluation of originality, the elevation of imitation over emulation and the treacherous one-sidedness that all but flatly denies the existence of darkness.

Kitsch is best represented by in the spiritual sense by warm and fuzzy positive-thinking mumbo-jumbo otherwise known as ‘New Age’, and in the material sense by fashions and hollow, commoditised art.

The end of art is to create something meaningful. The finest pieces tend to be possessed of ethereal resonance and the ability to transport the beholder. Great art, both visual and lyrical, is often prized for its communication and reflection of unconscious sentiments and imagery which are outside the expressive range of the mass, and has the ability to generate the reverberation of speaking with ten thousand voices.

Art is the product of primordial creative force seizing an individual and making him its instrument. It is not the slag manufactured by the creative horde pleading “love me!” to the world who create to indulge their vain fantasy or line their pockets.

This dictum of ingenuity as opposed to imitation applies equally to the individual. The original has realised substance and subsumed it. The imitator must plagiarise and often needs validation in the form of followers to neutralise his Pinocchio Complex. Unable to become real, he remains a replica cast from the same Kitsch mould; his only claim of repute is being a limited edition screen-print from a run of ten thousand.

Kitsch is the most dangerous where it attempts to postulate paths to enlightenment which are exclusively progressive, explicitly negating all notions of descent. Kitsch preaches all manner of warm, soft, cud-like ideals which are easy to digest and creates a class of half-blinds who fail to recognise that truth is more often found lying in vile rankness at the bottom of a very deep well than it is perched atop a marble staircase.

The aspects of vanity and kitsch aspect are linked to the incidence and magnitude of surrealism. When Dionysian society is rich and hedonistic, it squanders its time and libido into the superfluous. Both its products: material, intellectual, spiritual, and its populace become absurd derivatives twice removed from reality.

VI

HYPERREALITY & IMAGO

“Conditioned from the cradle, unceasingly distracted, mesmerised systematically, their uniformed victims would go on obediently marching and counter-marching, go on, always and everywhere, killing and dying with the perfect docility of trained poodles.” (Huxley)

Among younger generations, there is a very significant shift in consciousness occurring. It pertains specifically to the substitution of fantasy and derivatives for reality and originals. This phenomenon is occurring across numerous domains: social interaction, art, consumption, and life itself through the diversion of time and energy into sinks.[10]

Generation-Z particularly, being conditioned by technology from an early age, do not adequately distinguish between love garnered in the online world through such things as Tumblr followings or Facebook friends and love garnered in the actual world from embodied friendships and relationships. In fact, they almost treat the two as substitutes.

Wish fulfilment at a wholesale level is gradually being transplanted from physical to electronic realisation, and the human psyche trained to accept the latter as a valid substitute for the former. Although this may well be a fiendishly elegant solution to overconsumption of physical resources, it places another degree of separation between the consciousness and soul of the individual.

This ‘Hyperreality’ and the vesting therein of life, is the essence of degeneration because it devalues the real and replaces it with phantoms. Those immersed in Hyperreality adapt better to a contrived environment at the expense of proficiency at life.

We live under a quickening delta of change and successive generations have declining capacity to reconcile with the system they exist in because it changes faster than their ability to adapt to it, creating repressive feelings of anxiety and alienation.

Developmental practices have not kept adequate pace with the increasing complexity of living and changing value systems. Parenting routes tend to follow either an Apollonian or Dionysian[11]  dominance, which creates unbalanced individuals with lower adaptive capacity. Under such circumstances, the fall-back is typically to backslide into nostalgia, but one who attempts to live in a past which is forever being paved over will be buried alive. The alternative escape which defrays, discharges and distracts living anxiety: Hyperreality.

Broadly speaking, where the parents have followed the conventional path and raised the child under an Apollonian value system which encompasses hard work, material achievement, career, thus obtaining a certain ‘position’ in the order; that child won’t tend to have much trouble integrating and living the artifice so long as he or she is not somehow influenced to stray from the beaten track. A fixation on ascending the career and social ladders is comorbid.

Such children inevitably develop into the adults who form relationships conforming to a ‘trophy couple’ stereotype. The trophy couple will often have a top quintile household income, and preoccupy themselves with such matters as which private school to send their children to, hosting dinner parties, seeking out latte venues and jumping on the latest wellbeing bandwagon/fad. In short, what may be described as a very shallow, plastic life, suffused in epicurean materialism. They tend to consume culture and reproduce it in a manner not dissimilar to the bovine conversion of grass to regurgitated cud. Personality disorders such as narcissism are common in this group and depression manifests due to a particularly agonising feeling of spiritual emptiness which often accompanies a materialist lifestyle.

At the other end of the spectrum, the children of magical parents, raised under a Dionysian bias, are oft crushed by the iron heel of society and have an uncanny propensity to end up with substance abuse habits and/or affective disorders. It is in part attributable to the absence of grounding in reality, as they are not properly trained and equipped to handle, nor operate within the society they are born into. It is seen frequently among those raised in the country who move to the city – very few fully adapt. The venom of institutionalisation is one which must be injected early on in life if one is to have any chance of developing immunity. Like the savage transplanted from the reservation to the Brave New World of Aldous Huxley, their inability to fully integrate is often chronic.

Some combination of material and metaphysical anxiety is experienced by both groups, and where escape to the past is not possible, Hyperreality is superimposed upon reality to make it more endurable.

Libido (living energy) and time is thus taken from real life and directed into the Hyperreal sphere, where a higher proportion is wasted for no meaningful gain.

It is not a long bow to draw a comparison with the futurist film The Matrix, which depicts a dystopia wherein the majority of humanity is psychologically incarcerated by the Hyperreality of the film’s namesake. Consciousness was moved from a domain of heavy psychical constraint (physical dystopia), to a domain with relative freedom (artificial Matrix). The allusion to humans being used as batteries in is not an insinuation; it is but a more vicious iteration of present reality. Billions of docile animals having the proverbial lifeblood sapped from their veins, yet oblivious for their diversion to a hallucinogenic image of reality.

These hallucinogenic images could be represented as simulacra if they represented a likeness, however they do not. A simulacra stipulates resemblance as a condition and there is no similarity between a game and real life. To the best of our knowledge, you only get to play the latter once.

Loosely related to the simulacra is the pursuit of ideas or images versus actuals, such as vintage reproduction where an inauthentic likeness is elevated almost to the level of the original. How this transaction is accomplished psychologically hasn’t been demarcated, but its basis rests in our ability to create and relate to imagos.

An imago is a composite object-relationship comprised of an object and projections of the subject. It is the intermediary method by which people attach to an ‘idea’ of something rather than the thing itself. The object-relationship created when an individual (the subject) takes some real attributes of an item or person (the object), and manipulates them, distorting/exaggerating or otherwise imbuing them with emotional bias such that the relationship they create is not to the actual object, but to a strange compound (imago) which is part object and part the subject’s psychological projection.

When this happens and the object disappears, the compound and the subject’s attachment live on. This can be observed distinctly in how people speak about and feel toward someone who’s departed or an ex-partner. It is the strangest thing how despite the lack of an object, the imago persists and is still able to draw significant amounts of energy. The imago represents a dangerous departure from objective reality.

Materialism and consumerism rely significantly on imago dynamics to sell. The entire mantra of advertising is to endow inanimate objects, products and brands with illusory qualities and the creation of irrational associations.

A prominent example is the transcript below, from an financial institution[12] , which attempts to sentimentalise the bank as a person with human qualities.

I was born a hundred years ago.

I helped bring the world closer to home.

I saw men search for dreams at Broken Hill.

And watched my best mates leave.

It was like the world caught fire.

And then Victoria did.

But come what may, Australians always stood strong.

Like Don Bradman carrying an entire country on his shoulders.

Or Lance Hill’s great leap forward.

And me? I taught children to save.

And helped build homes. Millions of them.

I can’t believe how often I saw the impossible become possible.

Or hope become history.

I am Australian.

And I am your bank.

Reification (Verdinglichung- the taking of an object and applying human qualities to it) as a practice has conditioned much of the civilised world to high pliability, such that an external entity can create or change values with less resistance. In consequence, we have object fetishism, infantile hysteria toward hyperreal objects such as celebrities and fictional characters, and real emotions being projected onto objects.

It is underappreciated just how plastic the human mind is – influences impress themselves subliminally by continuous repeated exposure. Continued exposure leads to people equating what they see or read with reality, and this is particularly pervasive with cinematographic and audio-visual media. Plato’s Republic identified the phenomenon behind Hyperreality with its Allegory of the Cave[13] over two and a half thousand years ago.

VII

A CONTRACT WITH CHRONOS

“Debt is the slavery of the free.’ (Publilius Syrus)

Debt is a charge over an entity’s future which can be crystallised and results in enforceable but illusory obligation upon the entity. Applied to an individual, it represents a wish fulfilment today or diminution in current anxiety at the cost wish fulfilment tomorrow or increased future anxiety.

I have devoted a moderate allocation of words to debt, because of both its rôle as a temporary alleviator of conscious anxiety, and its more sinister function as a means of control.

Debt may have come about as an innovative, yet tragically elegant to Karl Marx’s notion of Capitalism eventually being checked by its own realisation.

A necessary by-product of a capitalist system is excess production. We invoke the identity here that income is equal to production. That is to say, that if an economy produces a hundred dollars of goods, then the income shared between Labour and Capital in that economy will also be a hundred dollars. If we assume the income is split fairly, Labour gets fifty dollars (wages), and Capital also gets fifty dollars (profit). Labour uses its fifty dollars to consume goods, whereas Capital cannot consume its entire fifty dollar share, so the economy (specifically, Capital) is left with say, twenty dollars of unconsumed surplus goods that need to go somewhere. In a mercantile system, this surplus can be exported, and thus the excess production is converted back into capital. This needs to happen if Capital is to propagate itself, as is the nature of the beast.

Theoretically, when the world is entirely populated by developed, capitalist economies, there will be no undeveloped economies to absorb all the excess production. This invariably poses a problem because it is reflective of imbalance. If time is allowed to absorb the surplus, then the wheels of production must turn slower until the surplus is absorbed, which requires unemployment.

No country desires unemployment for it creates social instability and burdens the government; so faced with this issue, a sovereign may choose to depreciate its currency, thereby making its surplus production cheaper and thus easier to hawk on the international market. If every country is trying to achieve the same end, currency and trade wars ensue and a vicious cycle takes hold that can end in a physical war.[14]

How can this be subverted? We need to find a way to absorb all this surplus. What if we could get Labour to consume more than the fifty dollars it earns? What if we could somehow get Labour to consume seventy dollars’ worth instead, using Capital’s money, and oblige them to pay it back from their future wages, with interest?

In this way wage slaves came to be: an enforceable charge is created over Labour in favour of Capital, and the power of Capital over Labour is hence strengthened. Interest works as a compensatory mechanism, through which value is transferred from a debtor to a creditor, in this case from Labour to Capital.

Debt stokes the fire which keeps the machine running. Money provides this fuel by incentivising the production of goods and services. Prior to the advent of debt, the capacity to consume these goods and services was delimited to whatever money of his own the individual had at current. If all you had was a dollar, it was not possible to purchase and consume two dollars’ worth of goods.

Debt is efficacious because of an orchestration. In the first sense, we have created a conditioned world which wants more than it needs. No longer content with the basics required for survival, it desires superfluous indulgence beyond the point of triviality. In the second, we have conceived the idea of possession and developed property rights. Together, they constitute the foundation for a society with an ownership fetish which is reflected in our chronic selfishness. It’s mine I tell you.

Thus by a drive to possess, we are possessed. In consequence, the possessed frequent Chronos to draw contracts of debt, exchanging the future for the present.

No one is ‘forced’ to deal with Chronos. The assumption of debt is simply acknowledging your desire to live beyond your present means and consequent willingness to make a trade-off: less tomorrow for more today. In essence, it is a very simple contract, but for the value of consideration.  If you sell your soul to the devil, the transaction is transparent, you know what it will cost you, but when you borrow from Chronos, he does not give you the interest rate.

Debt and its demand to be repaid create an effective charge on the soul, a condition whose potential harmfulness cannot be estimated at the point of its accrual. Perhaps it is not coincidental that the verb to contract is also the operative for disease.

At a collective, aggregated level, debt does not exist, because all charges on one in favour of another cancel out when taken together as a whole. If X owes Y a dollar, Y owes Z a dollar, and Z owes X a dollar, the system is a closed circle. Hypothetically, if everyone in the world repaid their debts tomorrow (assuming they had the ability to do so), each would possess what he is presently entitled to possess. However, it is now culturally ingrained in the modern psyche that the fruits of debt are something of an entitlement based on a vague undertaking to take from the future. Debt may be classed as a Hyperreal representation of a promissory obligation.

In literature, time travel tends to have side effects, most notably when the future is altered because of the impact the time traveller has when he goes back into the past: his mere presence there changes the future. Similarly, when money is taken from the future, it has an impact on the present, which then sets the future on a different course. The interest rate cannot, by virtue of sheer ineptitude, objectively mediate nor neutralise this variation.

Debt as a concept bears some striking parallels with the balances of psychic energy between individuals. No small amount of the world’s anxiety exists due to charges individuals hold upon one another, through relations of expectation, authority and loyalty among other things. Because we recognise these charges as valid, the individual is unable to feel freedom, being perpetually at the mercy of another’s whims. Human beings trade on this, actively seeking to increase the charges they hold upon others to placate and compensate for those charges under which they are bound.

Were we all to release our own emotional holds upon others, the general level of anxiety would be reduced dramatically. However, this canon underlying human interaction is deeply ingrained, so again, it will take focussed conscious effort to simply accomplish a reversal in the accumulation of charges, and so reducing the level of charges will be a very gradual process.

In many cases, it is the same senseless logic with which one person may hold an active grudge against another. There is a needless and wholly futile expenditure and wastage of psychic energy.

VIII

THE INCUMBENCY OF POWER

“We are in power. Nobody will deny it. By virtue of that power we shall remain in power…We have no words to waste on you. When you reach out your vaunted strong hands for our palaces and purpled ease, we will show you what strength is. In roar of shell and shrapnel and in whine of machine-guns will our answer be couched. We will grind you revolutionists down under our heel, and we shall walk upon your faces. The world is ours, we are its lords, and ours it shall remain. As for the host of labour, it has been in the dirt since history began, and I read history aright. And in the dirt it shall remain so long as I and mine and those that come after us have the power. There is the word. It is the king of words -Power. Not God, not Mammon, but Power. Pour it over your tongue till it tingles with it. Power.”

Wickson’s chilling psalm in Jack London’s The Iron Heel bluntly illustrates the incumbency of power.

Wherever there are substantial vested political and financial interests, and these interests are in power, it is reasonable to assume that they will go to extensive lengths to maintain that power. Power has a certain inertia to it; it is inclined to preside over whatever action it deems necessary to maintain its position, such being the principle of self-preservation. It also has significant material and political resources at its disposal, not least of which is the programmed dependency among the vast majority of the constituency.

A great deal of nervous energy is building up in the collective unconscious today, in both the Occident and the Orient. As we have already observed with recent rioting in Egypt and Greece, where there is no regulated release valve, nervous energy is unleashed in an animalistic fashion with destructive consequences.

Clashes between those attempting to prop the denizen system up) and those who seek to tear it down will become more frequent and intense, creating more instability.

Where an adequate amount of fear, instability and uncertainty exist, the uninformed populace will surrender liberties to a higher authority which says “leave it to me” and promises to assuage that fear. To maintain the status quo, any increase in chaos must necessarily be met be a commensurate increase in control. It is a precondition that the level of chaos must first increase before more power is surrendered to authority. It cannot be any other way because without chaos, there is no need for an authority to control it; the one begets the other.

Traditionally, these higher authorities have been Governments, but this may not be the case going forward. Fractures are appearing in democracy; the governments of the United States, United Kingdom, Australia, and many European states are increasingly impotent on account of weak governing mandates which border on being non-existent. The economic systems of the West are overwhelmingly dependent on the pyrrhic magic of debt, and inordinate amounts of manipulation and interference are being used in an effort to hold the whole shambolic mess together. Laissez Faire capitalism by definition (literally ‘leave it alone’) precludes interference; therefore we should be seriously questioning the ongoing viability of Capitalism as it stands when interventions are occurring on their current scale and frequency.

What is now becoming evident is that the traditional Western system is in imperial decline and the institutions which have hitherto been critical to maintaining the psychic status quo in the world are obsolete and straining visibly. The stage is set for another psychic crisis.

Psychic crises are best described as large-scale neuroses that take hold of a population, whose familiar symptoms include depression, anxiety, anger, uncertainty, instability and despair. A psychic crisis can be triggered by severe imbalances, unremitting oppression, psychological overload or a concentration of projection.

World War II was the most illustrious example of the latter in modern history. A society or nation whose psychic environment is characterised by tension or hostility brought about by economic hardship, in-fighting, corruption and poor security is at higher risk of riot, revolution and civil war. To mitigate this risk, a sovereign can mobilise and discharge the nervous energy of its populace by redirecting it against an outside enemy, having the effect of subordinating internal conflicts as the constituency bands together against a perceived common external threat.

It begins with a propaganda campaign seeking to demonise the target group and attribute negative projections, thereby reducing its moral standing. When the target’s position is reduced to a certain point, it becomes palatable and permissible to initiate physical violence on moral grounds. Propaganda is often an anticipatory measure intended to ratify forthcoming action.

World War II was a psychic crisis, and I can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding that the conditions are ripening for it to happen again. We need only look at the media, and how it grooms perspective with its subliminally nefarious wordplay. Men, women and children are not killed in military operations, they are ‘insurgents.’ Fatal mistakes are classified as ‘collateral damage.’ Those with markedly different opinions are labelled ‘extremists.’

The United States has developed mass projection into something of an art form. It seems whenever the citizenry get particularly angsty, war gets declared on some unfortunate autocratic schlep. However, it would be amiss to single out America for it is a global phenomenon. The sovereign debt crisis is causing immense tension in many countries, and under such circumstances, self-interest tends to prevail over collective resolution. Should resultant trade protectionism and currency manipulation eventuate in coming years, we will see a marked increase in xenophobic propaganda and deterioration in international relations.

Populations will become more pliable as their plight seeks an outlet, and politicians, whose vocation specifically attracts those with a will to power, will seize upon and leverage this pliability. Time and again we have seen horrifying machines of war being built and put to use. Akin to the boy who is given a new toy – it is only a minority that derive utility from simply admiring it; most are compelled with a desire to take it out of its box and play with it.

This is the political path of least resistance: do whatever necessary to keep the system going – because the alternative would be millions of deaths. The dependency level is now so high that the majority of Western civilisation would not be able to survive (on its own materialistic definition) should the system collapse. Weighing up this option on a scale, some very heavy things, which do a great deal of damage (war among them) could be placed on the other side of the scale to prevent systemic collapse because their relative cost would be less. Those atop the pyramid always have the most to lose, thus their uncompromising determination to preserve the structure.

IX

SOCIOLOGICAL PROGNOSIS

“It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society” (Krishnamurti)

A subtle, but significant polarisation is currently underway – albeit in its infancy; that between those who will cling to the old system, and those who will inaugurate the new. This is the Great Polarisation and may take many decades to occur. Mainstream disintegration will be caused at some juncture by a corresponding polarisation, occurring simultaneously, but which will likely advance faster. The Lesser Polarisation is now well underway, characterised by a widening of distance between extremes and diminution of the middle. In context of material wellbeing, the gap between rich and poor is being amplified. In context of consciousness, the abyss between the aware and the ignorant is expanding.

The polarisation of social class will increase markedly as Generation-Z reaches household-formation age. There will be a smaller intellectual class with financial literacy and higher capacity for independent and rational thought, and a larger constituency of rabble whose minds will be plasticine in the hands of stultifying overlords (media, gurus, marketers, populist politicians). The former will be exploited mercilessly by the latter until oppression reaches a degree sufficient to cause civil unrest.

This new ‘drifter’ class will be characterised by its lack of property ownership, propensity to live hand-to-mouth, and addictions toward sinks[15] which pacify or distract their anxiety. The psychological toll exacted upon this class will be severe, but there will be no shortage of diversions made available to manage their increasing dissonance.

Escapist reliance on sensory distraction, alcohol, and other conscience-deadening drugs will increase, as will self-pity and emotional leeching through the manipulation of charges. Higher anxiety will be met with the temporally unscrupulous solution of trading off the future for the present, thereby deferring and sharpening the inevitable reckoning. Incidences of depression and mood disorder will risk markedly, and there will be a multiple of co-morbidity as mid-life hits and people realise although the first half of their lives have been a relative cruise, the second half is going to be arduous.

There will be a decline in the birth rate on economic grounds, and further government support for education and family welfare may be curtailed to foot the massive healthcare, pharmaceutical and pension burden of the baby boomers. The alternative will be mandated increases in the length of working life to mitigate stress on the system by shifting the weight onto the individual.

There will be a marked increase in dysfunctional marriages as younger couples wed prior to developing an adequate understanding of the gravity of commitment. This will occur because the institution of marriage will come to be regarded more as a means to assuage anxiety through financial security, stability and property ownership, in short, it will become commoditised. The rising feeling of individual incompleteness will promote unions for reasons of fulfilment, and union with the partner will be taken as a crude substitute for the individual’s reconciliation with his or her own soul.

There will be a resultant swell in the ranks of maladjusted youths as the increased work projection load upon parents takes its toll on the psychical environment in the home, both in terms of higher stress and reduced freedom.  As such, the growth being witnessed in artifices offering escapist utility (consumerism, video games, drugs, gratuitous sex) will continue to flourish, and their character will become increasingly surreal. These sinks will absorb a large amount of the individual’s time, means, and energy to counteract the dissonance experienced from harsher economic slavery.

Whether voluntarily or involuntarily, a way will be found through which to extract more of the individual’s life force and keep him in submission to Deus Ex Machina. Unsought items will continue to be invented, and needs fabricated to absorb more of the financial resources for which the individual sacrifices his time and energy.

A poorer ‘deal’ will place the individual under greater oppression because he will have to surrender more authority and autonomy, and in return he will receive less protection, weaker property rights, flimsier safety nets, and lower psychological security.

Individual sovereignty will be subordinated to the nebulous but defensible ‘common good,’ except under the guise of ‘maintaining stability’ and aspects of the forsaken societies depicted in London’s Iron Heel (1907), Rand’s Atlas Shrugged (1957), Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949) and Huxley’s Brave New World (1932) will become increasing representative of modern reality. I avail myself of the term ‘increasingly’ because the aspects are already representative of today. This will come to be unless change is compelled and action is taken to correct runaway imbalances.

X

IMBALANCES & ENANTIODROMIA

 “It is hard to come to terms with the errors of the times: if you oppose them, you stand alone; if you allow yourself to be caught up in them, you get neither honour nor joy in the process.” (Goethe)

Enantiodromia is a concept intimated by Heraclitus whereby an extreme or excess eventually produces its opposite. Such reversals may be gradual or violent. Jung posits of Enantiodromia that, whether visible or not, as there is a move away from equilibrium toward an extreme (an imbalance), a compensatory force builds which eventually causes a reversion or inversion, not unlike the lengthy drought broken by monsoonal rain.

As a rubber band is stretched, an opposite tension builds because it desires to return to its natural state. The further it is stretched, the more powerful the tension and the greater effort required to stretch it further. A point is reached where either the rubber band is stretched to its limit and snaps, or the stretching force is overcome by latent tension, causing it to snap back. It is only at the point of natural equilibrium that this tension does not exist.

Many of the psychological, social and economic phenomena I’ve described are direct and indirect manifestations of imbalance. Beholding the chronicles of history, we are repeatedly confronted with long periods of authoritarian repression leading to upheaval, just as credit card spending binges are followed by austerity and bottling of negative emotion most always discharged in violent outburst.

Die Zeitgeist is subject to this self-same equilibrating force and current imbalances prevalent in society will be no different to the rubber band. If China continues to suppress freedoms, there will be a civil uprising at some point. If Western countries continue to kick fiscal cans down the road, they will eventually explode. If we continue to gorge ourselves, hedonism will ultimately yield to asceticism.

Reversions of this nature are precipitated on the same principle as lightning. The meteorological phenomenon is born of a potential difference between the negative charge of the storm cloud and the positive charge of the ground, which escalates until a critical point where the polar energies are equalised with spectacular, vaporising discharge.

In much the same way, Die Zeitgeist (The Spirit of the Times) inhabits conscious ego which holds the reins of the physical world and directs its course. On the other side, the unconscious carries a primeval imprint, an equilibrium which is not subject to whatever modern folly (The Spirit of the Depths).

As we see the conscious world become increasingly carried away, occupying itself with surreal pursuits and values, the potential difference between the Spirit of the Times and the Spirit of the Depths escalates. Stronger dissonance is created as consciousness moves further away from its natural equilibrium. The unconscious accumulates this tension which must ultimately discharge.

Already we are beginning to see a real and observable change occurring in the general perception. An increasing number of people are beginning to realise they are unfulfilled, and the pain this lack of fulfilment causes is getting sharper. The knowledge that the system is wrong is emerging from the shadows of the unconscious and knocking harder on the door of consciousness. This is a mere trickle of The Spirit of the Depths discharging into The Spirit of the Times. Despite increasing levels of awareness however, the mass of humanity will be loath to act because they are materially comfortable, and further tied to the machine, depending upon it not only for their own livelihood, but for the livelihood of their families. Heartstrings are spun of a weave stronger than Kevlar and such moral imperatives (providing for one’s children) are exceptionally resilient. Because of this reliance, this staying power of the status quo, the shift will be far from easy.

High hopes cannot be held for humanity if we recognise the sheer scale of the phase shift required. Brutal introspection is needed to confess the problem’s source is all within – it is of little use seeking a scapegoat, or impugning a nebulous ‘society’ as if it were person. Requisite wisdom is also an obstacle given its short supply across all generations. Although wisdom is normally associated with age, age does not necessarily bring wisdom, as commonly observed in adults who conduct themselves like children.

Further, the tendency for incumbent perspectives to petrify with age means the ability and appetite to change declines with age because any digression compounds[16] more powerfully with each passing year, as does the amount of time and effort required to change. Whilst a sapling is still pliable, crooked growth can be corrected, but once hardened, any effort to change its course will snap the tree’s bough. It becomes harder to relieve someone from an illusion the longer they’ve been under the spell, because it displaces their reality. Change among the older generations thus tends to be precipitated by severe trauma rather than by individual volition.

Youth, on the other hand, has much passion and tenacity, as it often demonstrated with regard to social justice and political issues, but its energy is squandered because it is blind. For the most part, youth has limited comprehension of concealed workings and is extremely narrow in conscious range and shallow in depth. Inherently, the danger is that youth does not have a particular new direction in mind; it only seeks change, more specifically reversal, and pays little heed to its broader and derivative consequences.

Many of the causes from which youth extract moral supremacy are paralleled by deep hypocrisies. The standard of living we enjoy today is the culmination of luck and centuries of expropriation which has created a small pocket of wanton prosperity. Protesters at rallies are incapable of acknowledging that the teat they suckle conveys the blood of the oppressed into their gullets.

In introspection, if were I to acknowledge what I am, the unfair advantages I have, and the injustice wrought upon so many that allows me to live this life, and truly I believed in equality, perhaps the only course of action which would preserve my integrity would be to shoot myself. The only saving grace is that an individual’s deservingness of his life cannot be affirmed nor negated. That is to say, if a person’s life today is a normative product of what they did in past lives, then the entire debate about justice and equality is rendered sterile.

Tolstoy’s clock shows the wrong time because it is either too fast or slow – and he astutely notes that one can either recalibrate its internal movement or simply move the hands. One action corrects the underlying cause; the other merely gives a temporary appearance of correction. Our times are like Tolstoy’s crooked clock. Assessing the methods presently being employed to address the issues and imbalances of Die Zeitgeist, they are analogous to tinkering with the clock’s hands – there isn’t the will to open the clock and get our hands dirty. An individual operates on the same premise, preferring to stultify or entertain himself rather than confront the unconscious contents causing his neurosis.

Imbalances need not be corrected by the unpredictable, whip-lash inducing reversions stipulated by Enantiodromia. The stretched rubber band doesn’t have to snap back, it can be eased back to its natural state. This orderly correction can be achieved, contingent on a willingness to endure opening and fixing the clock: the unsettling process of admission, understanding and integration. Without such a process, true advancement cannot occur.

X

CONCLUSION

“It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.” (C. S. Lewis)

We sail aboard a ship which many of us subconsciously know is sinking, but we are loath to jump overboard and swim for land so long as we can delude ourselves that she will stay afloat. We are fearful of the harrowing passage across icy waters, and anxious about what we may or may not find ashore.

With respect to a way forward, it is dangerously naïve to think the world, today’s Zeitgeist, can turn, as it were, on a dime. Personified, it is a chain smoker, chronic alcoholic and binge eater, who understands these things are harmful, yet finds them excruciatingly difficult to cease. Better still; consider how difficult it is to change some unfavourable pattern or trait in your personality. An addiction which is developed and ingrained over so long a period effectively becomes part of you.

The conditions afflicting our epoch are of a similar nature; powerful addictions cultivated over many decades and centuries, requiring a correspondingly colossal effort to overcome. To relieve someone from an illusion that has been trusted (and compounded) for many years is not an easy feat. It is often the case that removing the parasite kills the host. I have never encountered higher resistance, and it is not surprising that when you tell a man he is an animal, in his fanatical effort to repudiate the claim, he becomes one.

Therefore, it is impractical to suggest such fundamental change can be achieved in the near future save for some biblical catalyst. A cold-turkey approach cannot bring about a release from dependency without causing withdrawal shock or regression.

Though it has been overridden by heavy conditioning, we still possess a primeval imprint of the way we ought to live. To reacquaint with it, there is a long and laborious process of acknowledgement and dissolution that need first be accomplished. With each successive layer of the onion peeled away, more tears will flow, and the task will be a generational undertaking of sustained conscious effort.

At the individual level, we will need to incrementally change our perceptions, judgements, behaviours and interactions to realign values and bring about the required repatriation of energy back to the Soul, not least of which, as indicated by Jung, is the acknowledgement and withdrawal of the shadows we project onto others.

Inertia will build in small increments until the transformative force takes hold and becomes self-sustaining, gathering momentum until it eventually leads to a conscious evolution.

”The road that leads towards happiness from the inside out, through health, through awareness, through a change in one’s attitude towards the world; not towards the mirage of happiness from the outside in, through toys and pills and non-stop distractions.” (Huxley)

P. X. Waterstone, Melbourne, 8th January 2012

Appendix I

THE ZERO-SUM GAME

Wherein it is explained why ‘Occupy’ protesters are hypocrites.

Within its own confines, the financial system is a zero-sum game, which means that for there to be a winner, there must be a loser on the other side. It is also a closed loop: if all the wins are added together, they shall exactly equal the sum of the losses.

The very same system facilitates both accumulations of ludicrous wealth and an Occupy protester’s luxury to demonstrate at his leisure.

Simplistically, whenever I earn a dollar, it does not materialise from thin air. In a zero-sum game, that dollar must be surrendered by someone else. This can happen in a number of ways:

  • Directly, by subtracting it from someone else’s material livelihood
  • Directly, by subtracting it from someone else’s future livelihood through the creation of a debt
  • Indirectly from a population, by the devaluation of money’s purchasing power (inflation[17])

Let us assume the protester is law-abiding and, rather than fare evade, paid for his public transport ticket to get to the protest. The dollar which he used to pay for his ticket likely comes from wages or transfer payments. In the first case, the money is a part share of the dollars taken from the consumer of whatever good or service which his labour helped produce or provide. In the second case, the money is part of a redistribution of dollars taken from taxpayers which is given him by the government. In both cases, that dollar has come from someone else.

Now let’s turn to the multibillionaire. He is exactly the same as the protester, in that his money is a share of the dollars taken from the consumers of whatever good or service he has helped produce. The exceptions are that (a) his contribution likely consisted of capital and entrepreneurial skill rather than just labour, and (b) the good or service in question was more valuable.

Both use the same system, but at different orders of magnitude. So, it is by virtue of the financial system that the protester has the free time to protest. Without the financial system, he would likely be too busy scrounging around for his next meal.

Appendix II

ECONOMIC DISEQUILIBRIUM

In which the concept of economic disequilibrium as it relates to trade relations between sovereigns and currency fluctuation is expounded.

Echoing Appendix 1, the global financial system is also a zero-sum game, but festooned with significant complexity. I can gain a dollar today either by somehow appropriating it from someone else, or by borrowing that dollar on the promise of repaying it at some point in the future.

Imagine you have two bank accounts, one is for day-to-day transactions (C or Current account), and the second is for investment transactions (K or Investment account)

If you sell more goods and services than you buy, you have a surplus (positive balance) in your (C) account, which you then transfer over to your (K) account so you can invest to make a return, for example by buying a rental property, or by lending to someone else and charging them interest.

If you buy more goods and services than you sell, you have a deficit (negative balance) in your (C) account, so you have to transfer from your (K) account to cover the overdraft. If you don’t have enough money in your investment account, you either have to liquidate or sell some investment assets, or you could borrow and thereby take on debt.

The catch is that if you have a surplus in your accounts, you must invest in assets or lend, and if you have a deficit, you must divest assets or borrow.

Now take the above framework above and apply it to two people. Sam, who always spends more than he makes, and so is perpetually in deficit, and Deng, who always makes more than he spends, and so is perpetually in surplus.

Over many years, Deng lends money to Sam on the expectation that Sam will pay him back in the future, with interest. This goes on for a very long time such that Sam owes Deng $10,000,000,000,000 or $10 trillion. Deng uses the Chinese Yuan, and Sam, the US dollar.

In a ‘free’ system, the currency of a country that exports more than it imports will tend to rise because foreigners need to purchase that currency to buy the exports.

However, China’s currency is pegged to the United States dollar at a fixed rate.

So, how does Sam repay Deng? Normally, a debt is extinguished by repayment, or by default and reclamation of collateral. Sovereigns however, have something of a third alternative, which is colloquially known as the ‘printing press.’ When a debt is denominated in a country’s own currency, such as US dollars, the country can erode the value of its debt by simply running the presses and printing more money.

Whenever the United States prints money, the purchasing power held by their dollar deteriorates, meaning that same dollar buys less good and services, and hence the value of the USD relative to all other currencies in the world (that aren’t pegged to it) declines.

When this happens, it becomes more expensive for Americans to buy imported products, and cheaper for foreigners to buy American products. On a relative basis, production in America becomes more competitive, and those industries hire more labour, which reduces unemployment.

Any country with a sovereign currency may revalue their currency in this way by intervening; however the side effect is inflation, and an erosion of living standards. When a large country manipulates its currency, it artificially boosts its international competitiveness and therefore its own employment at the expense of its trading partners.

In order to maintain the status quo, trading partners must devalue or impose other measures such as trade sanctions to protect their own workers. This gives rise to what is known as a trade war via competitive devaluation or protectionism. Trade wars tend to last many years, and increase the risk of physical war because of the tension they create. The tightening of sanctions on Iran by the United States and Iran’s response of threatening to close the Strait of Hormuz to oil shipments is a current example of the tension created by trade wars.

*

A side effect of printing money is the appropriation of wealth from the citizenry through inflation. Consider what it means to have bank account that pays interest.

When you put $100 in the bank at 5% interest, it doesn’t mean when you take it out in a year you will have $105. Firstly, there is tax, and for most people, this means almost a third of the interest you earn will be swept away by the government, leaving you with $103.50. Secondly, there is inflation, which means if prices have increased by 3.5% during the year, then it will cost $103.50 to buy the same basket of goods you could’ve bought for $100 a year ago.

As you can see, you are no better off.

What happens when the interest rate is 5%, but inflation is 10%? Even without tax, this means if you put money in the bank or even under your mattress, you are destroying wealth. So, given a choice, you spend it to avoid losing value. You go out and buy whatever you can because you know prices are rising: food, property, gold, etc.

This is called a negative real interest rate.

If such an environment is sustained, there are runs on banks as hordes of depositors all withdraw their money, because it is the logical thing to do. A bank needs deposits in order to make loans. It can’t lend money to borrowers unless that money is first provided by savers (simplistically), so an economy which requires debt to operate will experience seizure and instability if there is a bank run, unless it can otherwise replace the withdrawn funds. Failing this, the resulting liquidity crisis (shortage of money) causes social unrest. Where its people are unable to go to a bank to withdraw money to pay for living necessities, a society quickly destabilises – an outcome which many a European nation are desperately attempting to avoid.

Appendix III

COMPOUNDING ERROR

A brief discussion on the phenomenon of compounding as it applies to perspective and ego.

I have only recently come to terms with how severely difficult reform is in the absence of some brutal catalyst. Whenever it is the case I encounter someone with significantly more life experience than I possess, I must reconcile with their perspective; their system for apprehending the world and their existence is the product of twenty, thirty, forty years of additional compound interest. If the seed of wisdom is wrong, it doesn’t matter to what impressive height the tree grows – it will not bear fruit.

As a phenomena one need only look to the unhappy rich. At some earlier juncture, most forged an equivalence between wealth and contentment, which then proceeded to compound away over many years, strengthening and self-perpetuating into an identity holding powerful sway in directing their movement through life.

The ego itself operates on a similar principle. As it constellates energy, its density and rigidity increases – we become set in our ways, more resistant to change, and less open to ideas inharmonious with the ones we already hold. Compounding gets more difficult to undo the longer it goes on, thus continuing on the path of least resistance makes it progressively harder to turn around.

Appendix IV

PLATO’S ALLEGORY OF THE CAVE

In ‘The Republic,’ ancient Greek philosopher Plato (c427 BCE – c347 BCE) gives a metaphor for degrees of reality, which has been simplified below.

A group of prisoners has been imprisoned all their lives in a cave, chained so that they cannot see behind them; all they can see is the cave wall in front. Behind them is a fire, and between the prisoners and the fire, a walkway runs. The prisoners do not know of the fire or walkway.

Each day, people, carts and animals travel across the walkway, and the fire projects their shadows onto the cave wall in front of the prisoners. The shadows are the only truth and reality they know.

One prisoner is released from the cave into the real world and sees amongst other things the figures that were walking across the walkway, in real life. He cannot recognise them, nor can he contend with the outside world because its colour, dimensions, complexity and sensations go against his reality, which is constituted only of the shadows.

He is initially angry and confused and wants to go back to his reality of shadows, but after much time, he acclimatises and comes to accept the outside world as reality, and goes back into the cave to convince the others their shadows aren’t real.  Predictably, the others ridicule him as a fool.

Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, Jan Saenredam, 1604


Appendix V

KEY REFERENCE LIST & READINGS

List of sources referenced and supporting readings

Camus, A. (1942) The Myth of Sisyphus

Čapek, K. (1923) Rossum’s Universal Robots

Dostoyevsky, F. (1866) Crime and Punishment

Eco, U. (1988) Foucault’s Pendulum

Freud, S. (1920) Dream Psychology / The Psychology of Dreams

Goethe, J. (1829) Faust I

Goethe, J. (1832) Faust II

Huxley, A. (1932) Brave New World

Huxley, A. (1962) Island

Jung, C.G. (1955) Modern Man in Search for a Soul

Jung, C. G. (1974) Dreams

Jung, C.G. (2009) Liber Novus

Kierkegaard, S. (1849) The Sickness Unto Death

Kundera, M. (1984) The Unbearable Lightness of Being

London, J. (1908) The Iron Heel

Murakami, H. (2004) After Dark

Nietzsche, F. (1885) Thus Spoke Zarathrustra

Orwell, G. (1949) 1984

Plato (c418 BCE) Republic

Rand, A. (1957) Atlas Shrugged

Wilde, O. (1890) The Picture of Dorian Grey

Metropolis (1927) Universum Film

The Matrix (1999) Warner Brothers Pictures

Life 2.0 (2010) Andrew Lauren Productions

Index of Notes:


[1] Irrespective of how ‘tough’ some may feel they have it, in global relativity, anyone who can afford to spend the equivalent daily earnings of a Ugandan taxi driver on a pot of beer or cup of coffee is not a ‘battler.’

[2] The superimposition of ego above orphaned fragments is in effect suppression or silencing. The ego may also seek to integrate the fragments but this is highly uncommon.

[3] The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890), Oscar Wilde

[4] Projection is a rampant psychological phenomenon wherein an individual defrays the anxiety caused by his or her ‘shadow’ by attributing and projecting those undesirable or shameful shadow traits and tendencies onto other people.

[5] Where there is a ‘fixation’ on a particular level of Maslow’s Hierarchy, (such as Esteem or Belongingness) higher levels (here, Self-Actualisation) are ignored.

[6] Relating specifically to anxiety: an order of magnitude below Kierkegaard’s ‘despair.’

[7] Fragmentation of the world soul (anima mundi) describes the effect of differentiations which work against the unity of humanity. Its chief contributors are divisions created by political borders and religious denomination.

[8] Magical power or energy

[9] This concept, Enantiodromia, is discussed in detail in Section XIII.

[10] As described in Section IV: d.

[11] Refer section VI for further discussion of the Apollonian/Dionysian dichotomy.

[13] See Appendix IV: Plato’s Cave

[14] As an aside, war is also an effective outlet for absorbing excess production, because the munitions and consumables expended in war are destroyed.

[15] ‘Sink’ denotes any trivial activity or object into which time is sunk which is not materially or spiritually enriching

[16] Refer Appendix III for a discussion on Compounding Error.

[17] To illustrate how inflation appropriates value from someone else, consider the following example:

Let’s say I lend Obama one hundred US Dollars at zero interest, further that the value of the US economy is defined by one thousand cheeseburgers priced at $1 each, and its entire stock of money is $1,000. With the money I’ve just lent Obama, therefore, I could have bought 100 cheese or 10% of the US economy’s goods.

I come back in a year to collect, but Obama doesn’t have the money to pay me back, so instead, he prints me fresh hundred dollar bill. I happily put it in my pocket and go out to see what I can buy. There are still one thousand baskets of goods, but because Obama printed new money, there is now $1,100 of money chasing these baskets, so the price has risen to $1.10 each. Now I can only buy 91 baskets of goods for my $100, whereas I would’ve been able to buy 100 baskets before.

Consciousness

As I walk along the bluestone corridor, an ambiance all too familiar. Generic faces reminiscent of souls. Their lips move, but the sounds that issue forth are not intelligible. All I can hear are the cries of the same braying ass.

Most weeks on my way to the lounge at the National Gallery, I take the small detour to Bill Viola’s Ocean without a Shore, an art installation in a blackened room, where a film is projected onto three portrait-oriented screens. Sequentially on each screen, a person approaches, pacing slowly toward the foreground. The ghostly silhouettes appear heavily blurred seen through a sheet of cascading water. Up to the point of stepping through the water’s threshold, the subjects are depicted indistinctly in greyscale. Crossing through the waterfall, they come into sharper focus and vivid colour. One particular character always strikes me; a young woman who approaches the threshold, pushes her fingers through, hesitates momentarily, withdraws, and turns back to the void.

Ocean without a Shore is emblematic of consciousness, the animation in front of the threshold representative of life, and the void behind it non-life. In withdrawing, it is insinuated the young woman prefers death to life.

This entry will venture a broad exploration of consciousness, from its absolutes in life and death, to its gradations and the phenomena which obstruct it.

Definition

Paying homage to Socrates and his penchant for composing from opposite quantities, consciousness can be viewed as a degree determined by some combination of awareness and ignorance, or life and death if you prefer a more poignant representation.

We will begin with the negative absolute: death. Under the simplifying assumption this life is all there is, then the span preceding birth, and span following death are similarly devoid of consciousness. By prerequisite, there can be no awareness when unconscious, which is why a person awakening from a coma will have no recollection of anything that occurred throughout the duration of their cataleptic state.

Moving into life, there are two elements to basic consciousness:

  • Self awareness is the lucid cognisance of our own existence; that we are in the here and now. During the formative years, this awareness gradually switches from one of requirement (food, attention) to one of being.
  • Environmental awareness is the comprehension of our surroundings through our senses; what we see, hear, smell, taste and touch.

Combined, the two awarenesses constitute a rudimentary definition of consciousness. Though the distinction between ‘conscious’ and ‘unconscious’ is straightforward, further analysis is warranted for the gradations that exist within the conscious state.

Conscious States

Within routine existence, our least conscious state is sleep, during which awareness of environment and being is largely dormant. We then move to the state of wakefulness, wherein we spend the majority of our time. Here we are conscious, but the nature of this consciousness varies. The variation is between ‘waking sleep,’ encompassing the habitual or automatic part of living (performing routine tasks, ‘going with the flow’), and ‘fully awake,’ wherein the consciousness is self-aware and has heightened faculties of perception and interpretation. The distinction can be obscure, so to demonstrate, consider the act of going for a walk. In a waking sleep, the task is automatic and your conscious is focussed on your destination or elsewhere (e.g. thinking about work/dramas/fairies.) In a fully awake state however, your conscious is absorbing and actively contemplating faint sounds in the distance, the colours and textures of the scenery, the sensation of the breeze, the scents it carries, and other environmental stimuli.

Waking Sleep is best illustrated by the significant portion of our lives we spend within a routine or engaged in an automatic activity, from driving to making small talk. In such situations, higher consciousness is inert, and there is a tendency to accept rather than actively question. Moreover, the aperture of the lens through which we interpret is narrow. Having a conversation in waking sleep, you focus upon the content and surface attributes of your counterparty. In a fully awake state, your conscious awareness is extended to the nuances of the situation, context, implied content, gestures, micro-expression, tonality, and your counterparty’s interaction with the environment. In short, being fully awake is a state where the conscious is extended over (and is actively engaged in) a radically broader range than what is required to simply perform an action or task.

Schopenhauer’s Representation

What distinguishes the aforementioned states of wakefulness is the degree of conscious intensity. To elaborate further, the discourse of Arthur Schopenhauer illustrates quite eloquently the level of existence as a function of conscious intensity:

“There is no need to speak of savages whose life is often no more than one stage above that of the apes in the trees; consider for instance a porter in Naples or Venice and regard the course of his life from its beginning to its end. Driven by want, sustained by his own strength, supplying the needs of the day, indeed of the hour, through his own labour; a great deal of exertion, constant turmoil, a great deal of hardship, no care for the morro, refreshing rest after exhaustion, much wrangling and brawling, not a moment to spare for reflection, sensual ease in a mild climate and with tolerable food; finally, as the metaphysical element, some crass superstition provided by the Church. This restless, confused dream constitutes the life of millions of men. They know only for the purposes of their present wants: they give no thought to the coherence of their existence, not to speak of that existence itself: to a certain extent they exist without really being aware of it.

Now consider the prudent, sensible merchant, who passes his life in speculations, cautiously carries out well-considered plans, establishes his house, makes provision for wife, child and heirs and also takes an active part in public affairs. This man obviously exists with very much more consciousness than the former: i.e. his existence possesses a higher degree of reality.

Next, observe the scholar, one for instance who explores the history of the past. This man will be conscious of the existence of the whole, beyond the era of his own existence, beyond his own person: he ponders the course of the world.

And finally the poet, and even more the philosopher, in whom thought has attained such a degree that, neglecting individual phenomena in existence, he stands in wonder before existence itself, before this almighty sphinx, and makes of it his problem. Consciousness has in him risen to such a degree of clarity that it has become universal consciousness, through which him idea has stepped beyond all relation to the service of his will and now holds up to him a world which challenges him rather to investigation and contemplation than to involvement in its activities. – If, now, degrees of consciousness are degrees of reality – then when we call such a man the ‘most real being’ the phrase will have sense and meaning.”

Observe with each ascending degree, so rises both the depth and breadth of cognition; the individual’s sphere of engagement extends outward. Granted level of engagement can indicate where an individual is on the continuum between waking sleep and fully awake, it needs to be used cautiously, and in context. An individual may be highly engaged, but in a way which is stultifying to consciousness.  There are a number of such frictional phenomena that prevent the consciousness moving higher and tether it in the dregs. The inhibitors appear chiefly in the forms of behavioural conditioning, idolatry and immersion.

Behavioural Conditioning

Behavioural conditioning is insidious. It confounds me to the point my mind lapses into a repetitive internal monologue of ‘what the fuck?’ Complete immunity from it is exceptionally rare, but blindness to its incidence is an affliction more common than a cold.

Conditioning is a prominent concept in psychology, defined as the process by which certain behaviours are learned or conditioned by use of stimulus to either reinforce or bring about extinction. For example: conditioning a dog to be quiet by punishing it whenever it barks.

I apply it here in the context of misdirection through association. The conditioned behaviour is the general manner in which Western man conducts his life, and the stimulus is a self-reinforcing hedonistic voracity. It is facilitated by society’s structure and how transactions between its members are conducted, namely utilitarian opportunism.

What I am describing is a strong convention linking possession and indulgence with contentment; and that, conditioned to assimilate this association as truth, we have taken to living by it. This is the core of behavioural conditioning, and the key to understanding it is to realise that most everything attainable in life, be it tangible or intangible, is composed of two prime units, energy and time which are imperfect substitutes. Conditioning takes these two units, and perverts their course.

Effectively we have been inculcated with a directive: accumulate, consume, gratify, and devote a considerable amount of our real resources (time and energy) toward those ends.

It is perhaps too rash a contention to broach with impunity, but I will put it forward in any case: that the pursuit of conditioned directives impairs conscious awareness. When focus is concentrated upon narrow ends, particularly where society quantifies worth based on those ends, it can become obsessive and the ends will be furthered at the expense of others which are more meaningful.

In that regard, the first example that comes to mind is employment. For the most part, we work to live, but if we are not careful, this relationship is inverted, and becomes such that we live to work.

At the beginning of a career, it is common to assimilate by plugging the self-esteem into the chosen profession, be painting or banking, and becoming economically and psychologically reliant upon that profession. As the individual becomes further entrenched in their profession, a ratifying tendency develops to suppress dissonance. I will term this tendency ‘specialised snobbery;’ the artificial feeling of importance garnered through specific skill or knowledge, be it real or imagined.

Although specialised snobbery is most visible in professions which masquerade as people: academia, finance, law and medicine, its prevalence extends across all occupations unlikely to hold meaning beyond death. This envelops all physical crafts, most fields of natural and applied science, and all the humanities, perhaps with the exception of Philosophy and related disciplines. Insofar as they all concentrate on worldly and human phenomenon, they are of dubious relevance outside this reality.

An extreme case of behavioural conditioning is illustrated in the society of Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, wherein civilian time is deliberately structured so as to be consumed entirely by work, social activity and ritual, leaving almost nothing to solidarity. This overbearing routine detracts significantly from the individual’s free time and energy, which are prerequisites to engaging higher consciousness.

Both Huxley in Brave New World and Orwell in 1984 make connections between:

  1. perversion of time and energy toward conditioned desires (idolatry) >
  2. conditioned/imposed stultifications (immersion) >
  3. psychic regulation >
  4. general ignorance and unawareness >
  5. passive existence >
  6. political control

Were I an autocrat, this is exactly how I would want my power structure to be underpinned: subtle mind control and subjects oblivious to it. In the chain above, idolatry and immersion are the prerequisite impairments of consciousness necessary to establish despotic societies.

Conditioned & Instinctive Desires

Before delving further into how idolatry and immersion, a crucial distinction must be made defining natural objectives which time and energy should be directed toward from artificial objectives which time and energy are diverted toward:

  • Instinctive (natural): Survival, procreation, understanding
  • Conditioned (artificial): Sensory indulgence (immersion), projection

Interestingly, many conditioned desires can be viewed as mutations of their instinctive antecedents. Projection for example, is the human equivalent of the competitive displays such as ‘Peacocking’ and fighting in the animal kingdom, designed to attract mates for the purpose of procreation.

Idolatry (The Obelisks)

I want you to imagine two towering obelisks, each rising from the Earth like an infinite streak whose pinnacle soars beyond sight. One glints blindingly of solid Gold, the other presents the weathered, enduring edifice of granite. Onto their surfaces, large glyphs are engraved; signs of currency upon the Gold obelisk, and symbols of faith upon the Granite.

At their pedestals, billions of worshippers congregate and grovel, awestruck by the monuments which bear the markings of seemingly supernatural craftsmanship. Would you recognise them? They are money and religion; two of the most powerful synthetic forces governing the existence of present-day society, operating on the wings of greed and fear respectively.

What is particularly interesting about these two forces is that they are polarising and stratifying – creating vast divisions within the human race. Wealth imposes a scale from luxury to poverty, and piety is binary: either inclusive or exclusive. Loosely, they are civilised substitutes for the survival imperative which dictates the expenditure of time and energy the animal kingdom.

Money and Religion hamper the ascent of consciousness because they are sinkholes which leech the individual of time and energy, and provide in return security blankets of spurious value. Spurious because the former is only able to assuage material anxiety and the latter’s capacity for ameliorating metaphysical anxiety is contingent on the individual’s surrender of consciousness.    

Consciousness cannot associate itself with synthetic quantities – it resides in a domain outside human construct. Were consciousness to have an obelisk, it would be that of wisdom, and it would be intangible, represented by light. Its followers would be those standing in the beam.

Immersion

The instruments of conditioning can be viewed as stultifications and distractions, chiefly of pleasure/flesh (alcohol, sex, music, food, drugs, entertainment) and of pride/mind (wealth, power, vanity), which divert focus from the wellbeing of the soul and are placed as a barrier between the individual and higher consciousness to mollify any desire to rise further. Each of these diversions can be observed as immersions.

Sensory Immersion is a common impediment to higher consciousness, through which consciousness is ‘hijacked’ by one or more of the five senses. Immersion heavily engages a sensory system (visual, auditory, kinaesthetic, gustatory, and olfactory) such that the consciousness is drawn to the object of immersion at the expense of acute awareness.

Pervasive Immersion applies when the ‘hijacking’ is perpetrated by definitional, non-sensory engagements (wealth, status, ability, power), thereby drawing consciousness into a parallel awareness which can be either disjoined from reality, steeped in a different reality, or a warping of reality.

Tabulated below is a breakdown of the sensory and pervasive routes engaged by common immersions, with the final column denoting parallel awareness.

 

Immersion creates interference because our senses are not instruments of consciousness, rather instruments of transmission. They are the interface through which we have awareness of the world around us, absorbing different types of information/stimulus which are transmitted to the brain for interpretation.

When a sense is overwhelmed, a short-circuit occurs which results in distorted interpretation. Framing the senses as gauges of stimulus, immersion is the red line on the dial, after which point saturation occurs and objectivity is compromised, akin to pointing a camera at the sun and not being able to capture its true likeness because the optics are overwhelmed. For the auditory sense, this could be deafeningly music at a concert or club. Similar logic can be applied to the other senses – like all instruments, their capacity for measurement is compromised past certain limits.

Atmosphere plays a key role in the ‘elevation’ of a sense beyond baseline level; the analogy of being ‘immersed’ in water and the linkage to everything else being, quite literally ‘drowned out.’

I posit the immersion imperative revolves principally around the increasing need to separate from multifarious stimuli and become absorbed in a single signal; drawing on the example of Generation-Y, who seem to ‘cure’ or escape from temporally high living pressures by indulging and finding release in pastimes and activities that involve sensory immersion.

Does the release element of immersion stem from more the concentrated (as opposed to defrayed) attention relished upon the object of stimulus, or from the sensory preoccupation ‘crowding-out’ of mental capacity to engage in active cognition?

For the most part, people are inherently lazy, and seek to avoid thinking wherever possible. Given this inclination to minimise cognitive expenditure, it should come as no surprise that may of the largest and most profitable industries (gambling, music, film) are those that satiate desire for immersion. The business of assuaging existential angst through assorted routes of distraction is lucrative.

To the question of why immersion is an impediment to consciousness, we need only look to Maslow’s Hierarchy. Immersions act as a ceiling which stops time and energy getting through to the higher degrees of consciousness inherent in self-actualisation. When the individual believes immersion propels them effortlessly into nirvana, the pursuit of higher conscious states which require cognitive effort becomes unnecessary.

Psychic Regulation

One of the more disconcerting trends I’ve notice lately is artificial psychic regulation. At seven o’clock each morning on my way to work, I see numerous people wearing slightly forlorn expressions, whose semi-vacant, deadened eyes avoid my gaze. Often they hold a steaming cup of coffee, or a smouldering cigarette, sometimes both. At six o’clock any given Friday night on my way home from work, I see numerous people looking considerably cheerful, whose semi-vacant, enlivened eyes overlook my gaze. Often they hold a frosted schooner of beer, or a smouldering cigarette, sometimes both.

It appears we’ve lost the ability to internally regulate psychic volatility, instead relying on stimulants when we need a shot in the arm, and depressants when we need to calm back down:

  • Caffeine stimulation to alleviate tiredness
  • Alcoholic anaesthetisation to dull stress and numb pain
  • Nicotine sedation to stabilise and calm frayed nerves

These three products also possess the special features of being addictive, socially engrained and strongly price inelastic. If we consider a cup of tea versus a cup of coffee, the latter is typically priced at a premium of approximately 30%, a bottle of beer commands a premium of over 100% over soft drink, and I could make four kilograms of carrot sticks for what it costs to buy a pack of cigarettes.

In the absence of higher consciousness, artificial regulation is necessary to cope with, suppress and allay the anxiety and discord which issues from living pressures. In Brave New World, Soma, a mandated hallucinogen, performs the same function. The sustainability of a semi-conscious majority of drones, in no small part rests on the easy availability of psychic regulators to allow perceived escape.

Though it can’t be proven, the open availability of alcohol persists, in spite of its demonstrated negative health and social effects, to hold discord in check. Said discord, commonly encountered as “there’s something wrong with all this, but I can’t put my finger on it” is a manifestation of consciousness attempting to ascend. Unless this impulse is hastily quashed by a ‘quick-fix’ (immersions, alcohol, drugs etc) path of least resistance, people would have no alternative but to (a) despair, or (b) question, neither of which are particularly conducive to the structural integrity of the superstructure.

Evaluating Consciousness

A test of consciousness can be performed by simple observation of the amount of energy and time committed to each of the two standards, and equivalent states of passive and active existence. Standard of Living (hedonistic) versus Standard of Being (esoteric)

Attention to both standards is required to realise a dual objective: survive in this world, and maintain your soul.

The key variable which influences these two standards is time. Given enough time, we could eventually accumulate exceptionally high levels of prosperity and wisdom. But our time on this Earth is limited. The eighty-odd years with which our account is credited isn’t very long from the perspective of a planet that has lived four billion. It is the blink of an eyelid against a lifetime.

Seventeenth century mathematician Blaise Pascal is notorious for his battle with this very conundrum. Do we concentrate our efforts on our body, indulging every impulse, oscillating between the euphoria of pleasure and anguish of pain, or do we focus more upon illuminating wisdom and promoting the wellbeing of our soul? If one were absolutely certain that this existence was all there is, the logical course would be a life of unbridled hedonism. However, if there is a ‘soul’ that endures death and remains beyond it, it would make sense to concentrate our efforts on cultivating/nurturing the soul.

It isn’t quite as simple as trading off between the esoteric and the material for most of us. As Schopenhauer notes, there is an innate difference in the amount of raw intelligence possessed by each individual which, along with the issue of circumstance, will to an extent dictate the degree of consciousness reached by the individual, the rung on Maslow’s Hierarchy to which they climb.

Conclusion

So where does this leave us? Consciousness is a concept which can be taken to eye-watering levels of complexity, and numerous philosophers have done so with varying degrees of success.

For a civilisation, higher consciousness is favourable, this much is patently obvious – it would prevent wars, reduce wastage and direct real resources more toward improving the condition of humanity. For the individual however, I am unable to make a normative assessment because for some, as the adage goes, ‘ignorance is bliss,’ and increased consciousness only serves to create anxiety.

That one encounters a braying ass and construes ‘stupid donkey’ is in itself a conditioned perception, the very kind rebuked by higher consciousness. If the ass is content with his lot, and is not doing any harm, then to pass judgement on it would be absurd.

If however we validate normative assessment by saying the ass and his braying are causing harm, then it deserves, allegorically, to be taken to slaughter.

From a normative standpoint, consciousness has its antithesis in ignorance. To address the issue with a value judgement, we invoke the alternative and contrast a world under rule of consciousness to one under ignorance.

As history had taught us, ignorance is grievously damaging irrespective of how it is justified, and we have only ever seen examples of partial and localised ignorance.  When machines such as war are driven by visceral unconscious forces, the outcome is senseless death and destruction.

Though it appears the justification is by a particularly extreme instance, the insidiousness is readily observable in everyday life. Any time harm is committed and the excuse “I didn’t think” is raised, the harm is on occasion of ignorance, and could have been averted if its perpetrator were more conscious.

Degree of consciousness is what distinguishes human existence from that of the animal.

P. X. Waterstone

The Collector & The Inventor

On a winding path engulfed by darkness, a solitary lantern journeys warily through the forest. Trough a shroud of dense grey mist obscures our view, we can intimate the silhouette of a cloaked figure, moving toward what appears to be a small workshop in the distance. A flickering candle can be seen through its window, illuminating an old stilted workbench.

The intervallic crunches of hard leather grating on coarse earth pause as the lantern stops moving and the figure extends an arm. Three heavy knocks emanate from the iron clapper, puncturing the deafening silence. Shortly afterward, we hear the metallic thud of a deadbolt’s release, and the door swings open with a low groan.

We catch a fleeting glimpse of a heavy black cloak crossing the threshold before the door, seemingly of its own accord, closes behind.

A calm voice begins:

“Sorry to call unexpectedly, but I find myself in something of a quandary. You see, I have some specimens which need sorting. They’re kept in an orb of ether, swirling amidst clouds of conflicting energies. Upon closer inspection of each specimen, I find it mottled; good indistinguishable from bad. I cannot determine whether to discard it or add it to my collection.”

“You are the only one among my acquaintances whose expertise could render a solution to this problem. I need you to design for me a sorting machine, from which some specimens will emerge clean, and others irredeemably tarnished.”

“It is absolutely imperative that the sorting is faultless – I cannot afford even a single bad specimen in my collection.”

A long deliberative silence passes before a second voice issues a rhetorical response:

“They’re not just ordinary specimens are they? You’re talking about souls…”

“Very well, this will make your request considerably more difficult, but leave it with me; I shall see what I can do.”

Their brief exchange draws to a close as the mysterious visitor wishes the acquaintance well and departs.

*

Immediately, the inventor withdraws to his workshop and begins toiling away, meditative on the nature of the task. 

“Souls are perilously difficult to sort. This can be no simple machine. The design must ensure it contains as many distractions and untruths as possible. I must make them insidious and confusing. I must make them formless. It will test and toll the souls in every conceivable way to make certain the wheat is separated from the chaff.”

*

Over what seems an eternity, he applies every ounce of his creative ability to manufacture the machine; making innumerable calibrations until he is satisfied it will achieve his client’s aim.

By the time of the collector’s next visit, the machine is complete, and the inventor presents his work:

“I call it life. All you need do is release the souls into it. They progress through, and by the time their course is complete, you will be able to see at a glance which are good and which are bad. I cannot guarantee you won’t have to put some of them through again, but I am certain it will, at the very least, deliver you some unqualified results.”

His invention is met with scepticism; “are you aware of the gravity of the task this contraption needs to perform? It is absolutely crucial that only the cleanest make the grade, and that only those tainted incurably be discarded.”

“This machine, I assure you, is the greatest work I have ever accomplished. It will qualify every test. To meet your exacting specifications, I have been forced to introduce layers of complexity beyond the imaginable:

I have taken the positive and negative essences and placed them at the volition of the souls, giving them free reign over their use.

I have painted an objective world and given the souls subjective senses with which to interpret it.

I have created confusion and anxiety by vesting the souls with consciousness.

I have imbued each soul with capacities for reason, creativity, passion and aspiration.

I have designed emotions to complicate the way in which souls interact with each other.

I have formulated pleasure and pain to distract the souls.

I have allowed them possession.

I have instilled fear and greed.

I have shaped imperatives and untruths.

I have provoked faith and doubt to coerce them into fixed ideas.

I have summoned phantoms of illusion and delusion.

I have fabricated powerful and convincing deceptions to lead them astray.

I have instituted establishments and pursuits which lead nowhere.

As the masterstroke, I have given the souls the ability to control and change almost everything within life, except the ability to remain in the process indefinitely. They may add or subtract by their own volition, individually or collectively, thereby creating limitless possibility for them to make the attainment of cleanliness more difficult.

Before surrendering the device however, I would admonish you not to put too many souls into it at once. Although it will improve the machine’s efficiency, it will also cause an exponential increase in complexity. Please exercise caution as there are limitations to my architecture; if the structure is stressed beyond its capability, it will become unstable. I will not be held liable to any assurance should this eventuate.”

“You have done well. We will reconvene once I’ve had a chance to put a few batches through.”

“Thank you, your custom is appreciated. On a parting note, I should mention that within life, I have placed, in parallel instance, the divine virtues of wisdom, justice, temperance, and courage. Their existence is crucial to the device’s ability to function.”

*

An indeterminate passage of time later, the collector returns.

“It was a slow start – at the beginning, I had to put many of the souls through several times, but now the machine is functioning as intended. I’m quite impressed with how the artistic license you’ve given them has sharpened the sorting process. Though I have to put a great deal many souls through several times, the ones which emerge clean are fewer. See for yourself.”

The inventor peers into the device through a small looking glass.

“Ah, excellent timing; it appears a new day is just dawning”

The inventor observes intently as the first matutional rays ignite the landscape in a hue of gold.

“This is beyond what I anticipated. I could not have fathomed the degree of complexity they’d be able to conjure.”

“When building the device, I considered it ought to capture the observer’s curiosity. Rather than tedious uniformity, I furnished life with variety: seasons and alternating periods of darkness and light, a perpetual cycle of movement and respite.”

“They’ve discovered these arrangements and built a fascinating structure around them. They call it ‘time’ and divide it into seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years. The days number seven, and fifty-two of these cycles constitute a year. For five of the seven, many of the souls follow a strict regime, arising at a certain hour and spend the light hours ‘working.’ The remaining two days are comparatively unstructured, although they seem to also follow something of a routine. They call it ‘leisure.’”

“Another fascinating thing they’ve created is money, which they use to trade between themselves, and debt, which allows one to borrow from time.”

“But my how they are lazy! Very few concern themselves with finding the reason they are there, instead preferring to attach meaning to fixed dogmas created by their own imaginations.”

“They spend a great deal of their time alternating between pleasure and pain, using one as the antidote for the other.”

“They place a minority of their number on pedestals and worship them for all manner of strange reasons.”

“They confuse creativity with beauty.”

“They cry out for help from above, evading responsibility, and prefer to indulge blind hope than trust their internal voice.”

“I have given them everything they need to decide their own fate, and have assigned differences of opportunity in the favour of those who have progressed further. However, they are not able to reconcile the differences and attribute them to chance.”

*

The collector dwells thoughtfully for a moment, and from the leftmost chute on the device, procures a pearlescent orb. Admiring its brilliance, he congratulates the inventor on his fine work.

“Thank you. You will be duly rewarded for your efforts. Name your charge.”

From the rightmost chute, the inventor picks up a lump of a rough, bituminous substance resembling dirty coal.

“One small request. I’ve a small furnace which heats my workshop. It’s been quite cold lately, and fuel to stoke it has been hard to come by. The souls which emerge sullied are of no use to you, I’d be appreciative if you could spare them for kindling.”

P. X. Waterstone, Cape Town, 08/08/2010

Ava & Xavier’s African Adventure

“This is Africa dear boy!” Allan Quartermain (played by Sean Connery) explains in a gravelly Scottish burr. It would’ve been around this time last year I was watching ‘The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen’ and decided it would be a novel idea to get on a plane to Africa.

That plane leaves shortly, whereupon I will be trading my aging sapphire Tudor bonnet for a pith helmet. From an equatorial point of origin in Uganda, this anthropological jaunt will trek overland across Lake Victoria and the Serengeti to Zanzibar, before flying to Cape Town and plotting a course along the South African coast, then turning Northward toward Livingstone and Victoria Falls. Its objective is to collect as many marbles of experience, angles of perspective and meaningful connections as possible inside the span of thirty days.

Avid readers (if you’ll allow such an absurdity) may remember Ava, who made a cameo appearance some five years ago in ‘Schmoozing.’ My long-time best friend, muse, and partner in crime will be accompanying me to ensure I don’t join a herd of Giraffe, never to return to familiar society, and to stop me from attempting to stage a coup in Zimbabwe. Hopefully her presence on this enterprise will ensure the chronicling of ’African Adventure’ will be less deadpan than Paul Theroux’s ‘Dark Star Safari,’ and (optimistically), read a little more like ‘A Confederacy of Dunces’ by John Kennedy Toole.

This entry, when completed, will mark the 5th anniversary of sermon writing,  56th in a series of accidental essays which occupy a volume of nearing three hundred pages.

Ooo-wee!

PXW

 Graphic Copyright Luuk Gervink on deviantArt

Seven Degrees of Constraint

Some months ago, a friend and I were discussing the concept of morality in the context of moral dilemmas. Morality is a topic given frequent airplay, but seldom understood. Ask someone to define it, and you’ll often get a simple response containing little more than the dichotomy of right and wrong.

After laying waste to successive hours and cups of tea contemplating how best to approach the question of morality, it became apparent that I could not look at it in isolation. Morality is part of a larger structure which encompasses the dynamics constraining human behaviour from absolute freedom. This domain, spanning seven degrees, will be the subject of inquiry.

The Seven Degrees

To understand the different dynamics that constrain our behaviour, we need to fashion a hierarchy. In that regard, I default to the ubiquitous pyramid.

Perched atop the pyramid is the absolutely constraining dynamic of Natural Law. At the bottom resides the unconstrained dynamic we know as free will. Morality is sandwiched somewhere in between, and is one of the five intermediate dynamics which are human conceptualisations (human law, morality, ethics, convention and expectation). Altogether, the pyramid is composed of seven degrees, with diminution in constraining power at each subordinate level:

Degree Dynamic/Class Behavioural Constraint Limitor
Natural Law Absolute Physical impossibility
Human Law High Potential punishment
Morality Volatile Potential consequence
Ethics
Convention
Expectation
Free Will None Self-interest

Decisions we make and subsequent actions we take are subject to the continuum of seven degrees tabulated above. With each ascending degree, violability increases and constraint diminishes.

The first degree is universal/natural law which is inviolable by definition. The second to sixth degrees are domains of human construct which are violable with potential negative consequence, and the seventh degree, occupied by free-will, is characterised by freedom without adverse consequence. Under such a structure, we can explore how behavioural constraint operates on each of the levels.

The First Degree: Natural Law

Matters of natural law have two hard states: they are either possible or impossible within the framework of humanity’s understanding of the universe and associated laws of physics. For example, though I could probably make a person walk through a hula-hoop, if you were to ask me to make a camel walk through the eye of a needle, I would ask you for some of whatever it is you’re smoking. Natural law restricts behaviour by excluding anything that rests beyond the realm of physical possibility. There is little contention surrounding this domain because its classifications of what is possible versus impossible tend to be accepted truths.

The Interceding Degrees

It was unfortunate that I realised halfway through writing this analysis that I wouldn’t be able to escape defining good and bad, because everything within the second to sixth degrees hinges upon making this distinction. All the human degrees have an explicit reliance on a value judgement, which identifies a positive and a negative as a matter of course.

The problem with the good/bad dichotomy is one of context; and if I allow myself a concession, I will state that with respect to an object, good is anything which furthers/promotes it, and bad is anything which hinders it. We can thereby establish that (subject to moderation) exercise is good for the body, whilst illness is bad for it. Equally, that knowledge is good for the mind, and ignorance is bad for it.

Grafting this logic to the stem of human behaviour, we’ll first need to define an object so we can attribute good or bad in relation to something concrete. The object can’t be the individual, because behaviour has derivative effects beyond the individual that aren’t always consistent. Good to the individual may be far outweighed by bad to others whom the action affects, as embodied by the actions of a malevolent dictator. We need an object that covers a radius much broader than the individual.

‘Good’ and ‘Bad’ are opposing ontological types which belong to the realm of metaphysics; and it seems appropriate we draw the object from the same realm. Whether an action is good or bad can only be evaluated by its effect on the universe – a judgement far beyond the grasp of our limited comprehension. Therefore I will cast as understudy the united consciousness; being the combined ethereal energy constituted by all living organisms on the physical plane of this planet.

In using the united consciousness as the object to which good and bad apply, we’re creating the issue of subjective value judgement. Is an action good if it saves a life but destroys a thousand hectares of rainforest? Immediately we run aground on grey shores; to negate this, the test must be parametrically bounded.

Imagine a line with good on one end, and bad on the other. Now divide this line into four equal segments. Though I admonish against using it for anything fitting in the middle two segments, united consciousness is usable for the outer segments. Helping someone who’s stranded is ‘good.’ Discharging toxic waste into a river is ‘bad.’ In a simplified sense, the two are actions which promote and damage the energy of this world respectively.

To discriminate good from bad, we query whether a wise and reasonable person would view the action as adding to or subtracting from the united consciousness. It is a soft test of benefit and detriment, albeit redeemed by a measure of practicality. Plato, in his treatise Republic, uses unity itself as the object: identifying concord and harmony as good, and their antitheses, discord and chaos, as bad; a definition toward which I am inclined, but wary for its greater obscurity.

Owing to the sheer evasiveness of what lies within the middle two segments, we have developed weaker, subjective distinctions to assist our discernment of good from bad. These are the second to sixth degrees. Human law attempts to split the line down the middle, codifying what rests on one side by conceiving equivalence between ‘bad’ and ‘illegal.’ Morals and Ethics are held broadly as standards for right and wrong. Conventions and norms are weaker forms which affirm or deny social acceptability. Expectations in the personal sphere influence reputation and relationships.

The central tenet common across all these dynamics is their imposition of synthetic constraint on our behaviour. Because a civilised society requires suppression of animal instincts, which is contrary to nature, human behaviour needs to be regulated externally, either directly or indirectly. Law, morality, ethics, conventions and expectations are the institutions charged foremost with the governing role. Each interceding degree proscribes desirable and undesirable behaviour and ascribes consequences to them. Our cognisance of these consequences and the associated imperatives of desire and fear toward them are the riggings by which our behaviour is bound.

~

We speak of binding most often in a legal sense. Ostensibly, one is legally bound to ensure he or she fulfils a contract, thereby protecting the counterparty. Often, the law is perceived as a mechanism for maintaining order, but it exists more to protect us from each other.  Plato purveys that law was instituted upon the foundation of directional inequality or bias inherent in immoral action. Passage 359a ventures that law was established as an apparatus to prevent immoral behaviour, on the premise that we willingly forgo the gain from doing wrong in order to protect ourselves from being wronged.  I.e. avoid the harm from being on the receiving end of an immoral act. The benefit derived from lying is less than the harm suffered from being lied to.

Taken in this sense, law is simply an enshrined manifestation of a moral system whose contravention has enforceable consequences or penalties which are administered by the state. Behaviour is distinguished as being either lawful or illegal against some legislated standard.

Below the law lie progressively less prohibitive derivatives. Morality distinguishes behaviour as being either just or unjust. Ethics distinguishes good and bad. Convention distinguishes normal and deviant. Expectation distinguishes fulfilment and letdown. Each of these degrees have polar consequences, such as potential praise for an ethical action, or potential affliction of anxiety for failing to meet expectations.

~

Practical Applications

Having outlined the theoretical underpinnings, we can now migrate from academia into the real world; exploring how some of these dynamics operate.

In the absence of tasers, the control of human behaviour requires limit0rs in the form of negative consequences for ‘bad’ behaviour. Since control is more concerned with restraining undesirable behaviour than promoting good behaviour, it makes sense that each degree enforces itself primarily by penalising undesirable conduct.

Payoff is a concept critical to the practical analysis of human behaviour. Primates can be conditioned to act in a certain way via the reinforcement of reward and punishment. They instinctively seek pleasure and avoid pain.

Our minds work on the same premise; we seek pleasure and avoid paid, but do so with a heavier layer of cognition than the Chimpanzee. We tend to evaluate payoff before we act, and often make this evaluation with consideration to second and third order effects: How will this choice influence future choices? How will this choice affect other people? What are the immediate and long-term consequences?

For example, in most situations where a choice occurs, the consequential payoff is determined not only by the primary effect (i.e. the direct result) of that choice on the individual, but also by the reverberations of that choice. I make a decision whose effect is to benefit myself, but must consider if actioning that choice is legal, moral, ethical, conventional, and expected. From each of these five criteria, there will be further consequences which may either profit or harm me.

This notion of payoff is especially useful when studying ‘undesirable’ actions. The instance of unethical behaviour is often a call option with limited downside and escalated upside potential. Lying for example: whilst getting caught may result in some loss or an adverse outcome, the ‘benefit’ from getting away with it is frequently greater, which is why we do it.

Crime & Mathematical Expectation

When the individual is placed at a normative decision point, the penalty’s severity (moral scruples aside) is a key factor influencing their decision. What is left by the wayside is the probability of this negative outcome or penalty. Mathematical expectation accounts for both the severity of the outcomes and their probabilities.

I offer you a coin flip – heads you win $10, tails you win nothing. Irrespective of the outcome, you are no worse off. In fact, since you have a 50% chance of winning $10, and a 50% chance of winning nothing, you’d expect to win $5 on average if you were to play the game multiple times. Needless to say, you’d always take me up on my offer to play.

What if I changed the rules so that if the coin lands on tails, you lose $20? Now there’s a 50% chance of winning $10 and a 50% chance of losing $20, giving you an average expected loss of $10. Obviously, any rational person would decline my offer to play.

We can apply the mathematics of probability and expectation quite elegantly to ‘price’ and explain crime. To demonstrate, we’ll review examples of a petty crime (fare evasion) and a serious crime (murder).

Thievery is the transgression of property rights entailing taking what doesn’t belong to you, which we commonly recognise as obtaining a good or service ‘belonging’ to someone else without paying for it. Fairness is the relevant ethic here, and in the context of our first example, fare evasion is the thievery of a service from the operator. Public transport is provided for a cost; because I derive benefit from using the service, and it is not decreed free, I should contribute toward that cost by paying a fare. That sounds fair, so a law is designed to support the ethic. It says that to travel, I must purchase a ticket: I must provide the operator with legal tender as consideration for the benefit of using public transport.

Normally, Marvin is the epitome of an upstanding, law-abiding citizen; he never drives a shade above the speed limit, nor has he so much as returned a library book late. One day however, disillusioned with his tram being perennially late, Marvin decides to revolt and starts riding the tram to and from work without a ticket. The cost of a daily ticket to ride Melbourne’s public transport system is $6.80, and so evasion saves him $3.40 each one way tram trip. On the flipside, if Marvin is caught evading, he will be issued a $100 fine.

These two pieces of information give us all we need to calculate how lucky Marvin thinks he is. Roughly speaking, in thirty trips, Marvin needs to make twenty-nine clean getaways and can only afford to get caught once. His unpaid thirty trips save him $102, but his fine costs him $100. If he can achieve a 29/30 success rate, fare evasion still delivers him a small profit.

Mathematically, Marvin’s engagement in fare evasion tells us he expects to get caught, on average, one in thirty trips or less frequently. If he’s right, then it makes more sense to break the law by not buying tickets. Thirty rides are worth $102, and getting caught on the last one would cost him $100. On a net basis, he would be up $2. By dividing the saving per trip by the fine, we get 3.4%, which is the implied chance of getting caught. Subtract this from 100% and we find that Marvin needs to be 96.6% confident he won’t get caught to economically rationalise fare evasion.

It follows therefore that if Marvin were acting with economics as his sole consideration, he wouldn’t buy a ticket if he felt the probability of getting caught was less than 3.4%. Where we have an individual acting purely on expected outcome, we only need compare this probability with his own perceived probability of getting caught to determine whether or not he/she will commit the crime.

Extensions of payoff theory can be used for many other applications; the pricing of a contract kill for example.

Let’s assume the annual profit in the black market for gorgonzola is $200,000, profit margins are constant and the market is growing at 2% per year. Luigi’s share of the black market gorgonzola trade is 50%, meaning he makes $100,000 in profit per year out of his enterprise.

Taking a perpetuity value with a 32% discount rate (due to the high risk nature of organised crime) to approximate the present value of such an enterprise, Luigi’s market share is worth $340,000 today.

Mario has recently diversified into the gorgonzola market, and feels the best way to do gain share is by eliminating his competition. If Mario is certain he can avoid culpability by hiring a contract killer to ‘whack’ Luigi (i.e. all the risk of criminal conviction is transferred to the contract killer), and we assume he can capture half of Luigi’s market share, the economic maximum price for the hit would be $170,000.

Upholding Law & Morality

We live in a society, where by and large, crime pays. But what stops crime from running rampant? Most would contend punitive law checks criminal behaviour, but this is only the visible part of the iceberg. Beneath the waterline lie dense moral codes, which are responsible for the bulk of suppression.

In order for punitive law to meaningfully influence human behaviour, two things are needed. The first is punishment; the second is a policing system. The one cannot exist effectually without the other. It is no use having laws, no matter the severity of punishment for breaking them, if there is no way to seize violators and subject them to said punishment.

When a law is broken, there needs to be reasonable fear (perceived probability) of getting caught, otherwise, the law will not be effective. Often, countries are termed ‘lawless’ not for lack of laws or punishments, but for the lack of an adequate policing force to discourage the laws’ violation.

Crime is exceptionally interesting from this standpoint. The authorities have limited control over the probability of getting caught; they can perhaps allocate more resources to the policing system, but it is an expensive exercise, so they favour tweaking the punishments.

Criminal behaviour is discouraged by adjusting the magnitude of the negative payoff, such that the expected outcome becomes adverse to the extent most people conclude crime doesn’t pay and consequently adhere to the law. To paraphrase an article I read the other day, if the penalty for rape were castration, it would have a greater impact on the incidence of rape than doubling the size of the police force.

However, irrespective of how stringent a punitive law system is, it will always have deficiencies in that people cannot be policed everywhere and all the time, given issues of cost and civil liberty. This is where a moral code (often based on religious principles) can pick up the slack.

“All systems of morality are based on the idea that an action has consequences which legitimise or cancel it.” Camus, in The Plague, captures the essence of a moral code. It is like a piece of software that instructs the individual to act according to certain rules and operates on the distinction between ‘desirable’ and ‘undesirable’ with respect to those rules. The constraining institutions of law, religion and morality, can all be viewed as instances of moral code:

  • Law as previously discussed, is an external codified manifestation of a moral code which defines actions and tangible consequences.
  • Religion is an external inculcated manifestation of a moral code which defines actions and intangible consequences.
  • Morality is an internal manifestation of a moral code which relies on conscience. Its degree of secularity depends on the individual.

‘Morality’ (the general brand) is effectively a costless element of the policing system, acting internally upon conscience to discourage ‘undesired’ behaviour without generating a cost burden. Once established a moral system is relatively sticky and self-reinforcing because both social esteem and individual esteem are linked to adherence to it.

Religion also possesses the aspect of conscience, except it operates differently. The persistent theme among mainstream religions is the existence of a ledger. Entries are supposedly posted to this ledger every time we execute an action: good or bad, it is marked upon this ledger. Proponents of Karma believe in a force acting to balance this ledger in this life, whereas most religions prefer to effect this balancing though a ‘final judgement’ which determines what happens after death. If we recognise or entertain the existence of a ledger, our behaviour is constrained by the semi-conscious feeling there’s someone looking over our shoulder, watching what we do, and our fear for the consequences.

Though the consequences are real, bear in mind that each of the human degrees is an artificial construct conditioned, indoctrinated and perpetuated by religion and society. They are attempts to impose restrictions on behaviour which are subject to arbitrary conditions, and whose criterion are designed to manufacture certain outcomes, such as social stability and psychological security.

~

This expository was designed to collect fragments of thought on behavioural constraint together in a semi-cohesive framework to promote a better understanding of the sentinels and phantoms which limit our realisation of freedom, which is the seventh and final degree. Freedom is a popular buzzword, but a practical impossibility. We can however get closer to it by being cognisant of the degrees of constraint, by questioning them, and challenging them, and contravening them where appropriate. It is only the natural law which is absolute and inviolable. Everything else is synthetic and subjective.

Self Esteem

Waking up with a cavernous head wound at 4:41 on Saturday morning, subconscious bleeding out onto the pillow. The only cure for this type of hangover is picking up a pen.

The following analysis on self esteem commenced its life as a skeletal exploratory essay on Social Identity Theory during my brief stint studying Psychology in Philadelphia in the fall of 2006. It ended up relegated to the bottom drawer owing to poor content and inadequate understanding. Ligaments and flesh have gradually been appended over ensuing years, and a thought provoking conversation with a young lady I met recently has provided the current needed to animate this abomination.

An Evaluation of the Self

Complexity aside, a minimalist definition of self esteem is the value one places upon oneself, containing the elements of worthiness, entitlement, expectation and deservingness. Much to my dismay, this self value cannot be priced in economic terms because it can’t be tested methodically.

To expound further, when we examine the concept of value, we find it isn’t possible to attribute something a value independently; we need to compare it against something else.  A value must by definition be held to a standard, either in the form of a common currency, or by relative comparison. When we evaluate ourselves, what we’re essentially doing is making a relative judgement of all our defining aspects (physical traits, esoteric traits, relationships, experiences) against some standard of value or someone else.

Because this standard is not rigid (it can be ours, someone else’s, a group’s, society’s), esteem is not a hard value, but a perceived value, contingent upon whatever you’re comparing it with. If I set the bar low enough and judged my defining aspects against those of a Neanderthal, then it follows I’d have exceptionally high self esteem.

We can take this concept of perceived value a step further and demonstrate its individuality by applying it to the characteristics which underlie the standard. Which is to say, each person’s ‘standard’ is based on the specific characteristics they deem valuable.

Imagine you run a used car dealership and two customers bring in their vehicles for appraisal. The vehicles are of identical make and model, but one is showroom immaculate with low mileage, and the other is a damaged, high mileage rattletrap. Because these characteristics can be valued relatively, you will offer the customer with the better conditioned vehicle a higher price.

The following day, another two customers come in, and again, their vehicles are of identical make and model. This time however, everything about the two cars is the same, except for their colour – one is navy blue, one is sunflower yellow. There is no difference in intrinsic value between the two colours, but as a dealer, you know that colour impacts value due to idiosyncratic demand. Your customers would prefer navy blue if they were in the market for a German saloon, but shopping for an Italian sports car, they’d be more desirous of sunflower yellow. The colour matters to value because it matters to the customer.

Perceived value as it relates to self-esteem works in much the same way. A compassionate individual who views compassion as a virtuous characteristic will derive incremental esteem from their disposition. An unattractive person who views aesthetic beauty as a virtuous characteristic will have encroached esteem from their appearance. But the self-esteem of an unattractive person who does not place a value on aesthetic beauty should not be influenced by their physical appearance. Your self-esteem depends on what you value.  

  • If two differently coloured, but otherwise identical vehicles aren’t priced the same, then colour must have idiosyncratic perceived value.
  • If two differently characterised, but otherwise identical human beings aren’t valued the same, then characteristic must have idiosyncratic perceived value.

The universe doesn’t care about how tall I am, how much I know, how fast I can run, nor about the colour of my skin, my occupation, or my passions. None of these characteristics have an iota of relevance or importance in the cosmic order. Irrespective of characteristic, in a neutral universe, I am objectively worthless.

However, I live in a society underpinned by ideals and complex interaction in which interpersonal transactions are constantly occurring. Some characteristics, such as intelligence, rugged good looks, and vampirism will give me an advantage in transacting, whilst other characteristics will cause disadvantage.

Simplistically, those characteristics which create advantage are valued, wanted, and held in high esteem, because they help us to both cope with the world around us and to get ahead. Immediately, this gives me cause to value myself. The more of these characteristics I possess, the more capacity (supposedly) they give me to enjoy life, the more I am worth.

I’m going to make a bold statement: that self-esteem is the amount of benefit you think you’ll get out of life, which is dictated by situation and personal characteristics. Deadpan simple, but that’s all a value really is: a quantification of benefit. High self-esteem reflects a perception you’ll get a great deal out of life. Low self-esteem reflects a perception you won’t get much out of life. Negative self-esteem implies you will get nothing (or worse) from life, which is the rationale behind suicide.

Uses of Self Esteem

Having arrived at a crude definition of self-esteem as a substance, the next question concerns why it’s useful. Fundamental to our human existence, we all eat, breathe, sleep and eventually, die. If we were all to live as an unconscious flock of sheep, generic in every respect, there wouldn’t be much need for self esteem; for in an environment of absolute equality, comparison yields no relative differential, and therefore value is frustrated and irrelevant. In the absence of a differentiated and hierarchical society, self esteem is not functional.

Another way to think about it is through ‘importance.’ Importance of an individual rests upon there being something or someone to be important to. Picture yourself alone on an Earth devoid of all humanity – how can you feel important when nothing you do can have a material impact, when there’s no-one to be important to? To a person living in isolation, without human interaction, self esteem is largely irrelevant. The value of self-esteem is socially contingent because we live in a differentiated world which compares and judges.

Self esteem and its usefulness aren’t contained in the ability to cope with the world itself or the ability to get ahead in life. Rather, self esteem is useful because it shields from the psychological battery inflicted by others and allows us to withstand judgement. It defends against anxiety and is a tool of the personality which prevents it from being crushed.

Without an internal quantification of value, the default is to put yourself at the mercy of society and to subsume and accept society’s appraisal of you as truth. A pacifist in Ancient Sparta would appreciate the significance of possessing self esteem, because if he didn’t have it, he wouldn’t deem himself worthy of living. We need self esteem to prevent this ‘crushing.’ Living in an Occidental culture that venerates wealth and beauty, and being a penniless Quasimodo, I would have no course save suicide if I hadn’t self esteem or belief I’d at some point attain those venerated ‘virtues.’

Facilitators & Detractors

Esteem is a dynamic variable, it may either grow (strengthen) or contract (weaken). The modifiers responsible for change in esteem are facilitators which strengthen it, and detractors which weaken it.

Facilitators and Detractors issue from two sources:

Outside – which we associate with praise and attack, the positive and negative interpersonal catalysts for self esteem. Our self esteem may expand or contract based on our interactions with other people, for example, a receiving a complement, or being put on a guilt trip.

Inside – which we associate with success and failure (actual and perceived) in the different circles of competence. There are three dominant circles of competence: Social, Sexual and Occupational. The first and second are fairly straightforward; the esteem is influenced by prowess in the relevant type of intercourse. The third, Occupational Competence, can relate to success and failure in structured and unstructured tasks, from solving a crossword, to running a marathon, to learning a language. The type of task which is most important to self-esteem is often determined by how the individual earns a living:

  • Manual/Practical Craft (Carpenter)
  • Creative Craft (Artist)
  • Humanistic Professional (Teacher)
  • Applied Professional (Physicist)

Collectively, our successes and others’ praise tend to increase our esteem, whilst our failures and others’ attacks tend to decrease it.

Dimensions of Esteem

Self esteem possesses an array of dimensions, each with a corresponding dichotomy of extremes. Though they often overlap, I’ve allocated each dimension a section of the analysis in the hope of arriving at a more complete understanding of the whole by peering through the eyeglass of its component parts.

Dimension Positive Extreme Negative Extreme
Level High Low
Designation Core Ancillary
Strength Resilient/Strong Fragile/Weak
Source Internal External

 Level of Self Esteem

Level of self esteem is the quantitative dimension; measuring how much of the ‘substance’ is possessed by the individual. Insofar as an individual’s level of self-esteem is able to influence through mindset disposition, the level bears upon both action and outcome.  An individual with high self-esteem will tend to carry a ‘winner’ mindset, whereas an individual with low self-esteem will carry a ‘loser’ mindset, corresponding with two polar utterances of the internal voice:

  • High: “I can do this, I will persevere.”
  • Low: “It’s too hard, I give up.”

Though I am unable to prove it through empirical evidence, there appears to be a chain relationship between self-esteem, mindset and outcome. What I mean to say is: if I have high self esteem, this will more often place me in a ‘winner’ frame of mind, which drives me with more fervour to achieve a favourable outcome. Should this difference between high and low self esteem improve the likelihood of a favourable outcome by even one percent, the relationship has been illustrated.

Designation of Self Esteem

Distinguishing self esteem on level alone is highly misrepresentative; it is not enough to say an individual has either high or low self esteem. Level measures quantity. The quality aspect of substance is determined by Designation; which makes a specific distinction between Core (high quality) and Ancillary (low quality).

Core Esteem is grounded in the fundamental nature of self, after stripping away and discounting all measures of external rank. Ancillary esteem is value attributed from a measurable or discernible outside quantity, such as beauty, wealth, competence or intelligence.

Conceptually, core esteem is quite difficult to grasp, so imagine you awoke one morning to find your every worldly advantage (skills, wealth, looks, intelligence, et cetera) had been taken from you. What do you have left? How would you feel about yourself? Would you glide around with a spring in your step or saunter, staring at the pavement?

In an ideal world, we’d all glide around on the wings of incorrigible Core Esteem, but this is idealistic and impractical for a number of salient reasons. Firstly because it is near impossible to completely divorce our self worth from the aforementioned quantities. Secondly because we are not perfect – there is always a difference between the real self and the ideal self. This second basis warrants further explanation – we all have some ideal conceptualisation of the person we’d like to be, and our ideal self may be better looking, more intelligent, more socially skilful, et cetera. As we would expect, the ideal self is often quite removed from the real self, and the distance between the two is representative of how far an individual is from peak self esteem. Hypothetically, if you were everything you wanted to be, then your core self worth would be bulletproof. But this is an acute rarity. For the vast majority of us, Core Esteem doesn’t quite get us all the way there, and needs to be supplemented.

We are left in a position where part of our self worth is derived from Ancillary Esteem, and the more Core Esteem is lacking, the more Ancillary Esteem will be substituted in its place.

By chance, as I sit here writing, a Peacock has just leapt onto my table to investigate what I’m doing, his bright blue-green plumage glittering like Lapis Lazuli in the afternoon sun. Being a simpler creature, I doubt the Peacock’s conception of esteem would be as complex as our species’, but there is a pertinent connection here. The prancing peacock parading its plumage pontificates Ancillary Esteem.

Ever notice how some writers base their self esteem on alliterative ability? How the physically attractive person often bases their self-esteem on their looks, or how an intelligent person often bases their self-esteem on their smarts, or how a practitioner often bases their self esteem on their skills? This is not coincidental. This is Ancillary Esteem. Generally, the aspect (whether it be beauty, intelligence or flair of some variety) for which the ‘real’ is closest to the ‘ideal’ is the aspect to which we will anchor self-esteem. As such, education will tend to increase the esteem of an intelligent person, whereas ageing will tend to decrease the esteem of a beautiful person. Tangentially, this logical sequence partially underwrites the existence of the cosmetics industry.

So, Ancillary Esteem can be viewed as self-worth arising from any specific perceived advantage which you feel sets you apart from the ‘average’ person. This could be anything from your exceptional fashion sense to your ability to perform differential calculus in your head. The only conditions are that (a) you think better of yourself for having it, and (b) it gives you a sense of relative advantage over the norm.

Strength of Self Esteem

Given self esteem is a desirable substance not unlike an illicit drug, it makes sense that we want as much of it as we can get out hands on (Level), and for it to be of the highest quality (Designation). Now we examine strength, or the ability of self esteem to maintain its potency when it comes into contact with challenges. Resilient esteem is resistant to attack whereas Fragile esteem is vulnerable to it.

Resilient (strong) to Fragile (weak) is a continuum of susceptibility to (negative) influence. A novel way to illustrate the strength of esteem is to employ Moh’s Scale of Hardness, a scale native to Geology, which is used to rate the strength of minerals.

It would have been first grade that I begun watching documentaries on plate tectonics and mineral metamorphosis. Around the same time, I started to amass a collection of minerals and gemstones. One of the first things I acquired was a small plastic case, no larger than a palm, containing a three-by-three grid. Within each square, numbered one to nine, in graduating levels of hardness, was a specimen of the corresponding mineral on Moh’s Scale, beginning with Talc at 1, and ending in Corundum (Sapphire) at 9. Crystal (Quartz) is number 7 on Moh’s scale, which means that it can scratch anything numbered below 7, and it can be scratched by anything above 7.

Oddly, two commonly used allotropes of the element Carbon appear at opposite ends of the scale. Graphite (1), the soft mineral used in pencil lead, and Diamond (10), the hardest substance known to man. Both are made of exactly the same element, but the molecules are arranged differently. Graphite is structured as lattice sheets of molecules stacked together, and crumbles when you press it to paper, whereas Diamond is tetrahedrally bonded, the formation able to withstand immense amounts of pressure.

In the context of esteem, we’d equate the Diamond to self esteem that can’t be scratched or damaged, i.e. perfectly resilient. Anything lower can be damaged or negatively impacted by an agitator. We can use Moh’s scale to compare the susceptibility of esteem to negative influence. Weak/fragile esteem (rating perhaps 2 on the scale) could be undermined by an insulting comment from a co-worker. It would take something significantly more forceful, such as rejection by a long-term partner to undermine Strong/resilient esteem rated 8 on the scale.

Resilience is an important quality of esteem because high self esteem isn’t very practical if it’s easily undermined. This is particularly manifest in Narcissists, an example we’ll return to later in the analysis.

It is worthwhile further exploring Resilience, and how it can be built. From my discussions thus far, it appears the primary route to strengthening self esteem is cold rationality. Oftentimes, the agitator which seeks to undermine our self esteem is external, i.e. someone else, through something they say to us directly, or a rumour they circulate. Cold rationality takes whatever is said and passes it through an emotion filter:

  • Has the comment made me worth less in my own eyes?
  • Why does the comment hurt my sense of worth?
  • Should the comment hurt my sense of worth?
  • Does this negative comment reflect a fact or merely their opinion?
  • Do I care what they think?
  • Am I going to let it get to me?

The vast majority of words or actions of others that typically undermine our self esteem shouldn’t. The only reason they should is if they awaken us to some objective shortcoming we have that actually does make feel worth less in our own eyes. My esteem would be impacted if numerous people I respect gravely told me I had some major character flaw, but not were I to be insulted for making a mistake.

Cold rationality has merit insofar as it allows us to separate what truly affects our value of self from the rancid emotional vegetables that humans tend to like throwing around.

An alternate route to developing resilience was relayed to me in charged conversation some weeks ago.  Ivy is anything but conventional and during our thread of discussion on esteem, Ivy told me about one of her ‘experiments’. She would stand in front of the mirror and hurl the most callous and destructive insults at herself until the point she broke down. Her logic was (1) if her worst enemy is herself, and that if (2) she overcame self-criticality by forcibly inflicting a breakdown, then the outcome would be (3) a stronger character, more resilient to emotional damage from most negative projectiles deployed by an external party. Like a born-again Phoenix, the reincarnation which rises from the burnt ashes is stronger than its predecessor. When esteem is shattered by a great force and rebuilt to withstand that level of shock, it will be resilient against any lesser force. If you survive the deep wound of a sword, then you’d be not much perturbed were someone to come at you with a penknife.

Narcissism & Vanity

Returning now to Narcissism, which can be viewed as a special, often fragile corruption of high self esteem. The term ‘Narcissism’ has its origins in the character of Narcissus of Greek Mythology. As the tale goes, Narcissus was an exceptionally handsome young man, who in his boundless vanity, coldly spurned all who admired him. For his vanity and obsessive self-love, he was punished by Nemesis, the Goddess of Retribution, such that upon seeing himself reflected in a pond, unbeknownst that he was looking at himself, he fell in love with his own likeness. In Ovid’s account, unable to pull himself away from his reflection, Narcissus remained there transfixed and slowly perished. The more dramatic Hellenic version depicts Narcissus so distraught and remorseful over the unrequited love that he takes his sword and kills himself.

Though I do not necessarily agree with the Diagnostic Standard Manual’s requirement for five of the nine symptoms to satisfy a diagnosis, below are the criterion defining a Narcissist (clinical case of Narcissistic Personality Disorder) as identified by the American Psychiatric Association:

  1. Grandiose sense of self-importance (exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognised as superior without commensurate achievements) 
  2. Preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love 
  3. Believes they are ‘special’ and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other ‘special’ or high-status people or institutions
  4. Requires excessive admiration 
  5. Sense of entitlement, i.e., has unreasonable expectations of especially favourable treatment or automatic compliance with their expectations 
  6. Interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends 
  7. Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others 
  8. Often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her 
  9. Displays arrogant, haughty behaviours or attitudes

It takes considerable effort to restrain myself from having lexical altercations with narcissists. Having spent a disproportionate number of years living with one, I make two observations. The first is that Sigmund Freud would have a field day analysing how this has warped my psychological development. The second is that narcissists have warped self esteem.

My speculation is that narcissists often have a disconnect between their subconscious esteem and their conscious esteem, which is to say they convince themselves of a (delusional) self worth much higher than it really is. The clues lie within (1) expectation of recognition, (3) prejudicial association, and (4) admiration requirement. Taken collectively, these three symptoms amount to a need for external validation of the esteem. A narcissist’s self esteem typically relies heavily upon support from a relevant circle, whether that be close family and friends (inner circle), or a broader section of the public (outer circle) in the case of a sports star or celebrity. This leads me to speculate further that a Narcissist’s self esteem is fragile because it is externally sourced: contingent upon the changeable goodwill or adulation of other people which the Narcissist has limited control over.

Sources of Esteem

Distinguishing between the two sources of esteem value, internal and external, presents a simpler proposition. External esteem is the self-respect we have that results from other people respecting us. Internal esteem is our innate self-respect that does not depend on anyone else.

It is useful to consider this distinction as a comparison between mammals, who are warm-blooded creatures, and their cold-blooded reptilian cousins. Whereas the exothermic reptile requires radiant warmth from the outside to sustain its existence, the endothermic mammal generates warmth internally.

Somewhat nebulous, the term ‘warmth’ is open to interpretation, but for the purposes of this analysis, it can be viewed as the psychological contentedness we experience with respect to our lives as thinking, feeling beings.

At one end of the continuum, an individual who generates all their ‘warmth’ internally; and toward the other extreme, one who relies wholly upon radiant warmth from other people. In practice, these extremes are unrealistic as humans are social creatures, and on the other hand have a degree of innate psychological autonomy.

More moderately, the domain is not absolute, but differing shades of grey. Castor and Pollux are identical twins who’ve had uncharacteristically divergent upbringings and formative life experiences as a result of being separated at birth, such that Castor has a two-third warm-blooded (endothermic) dominance, and Pollux, a two-third cold-blooded (exothermic) dominance:

Invoking the assumption the two brothers have similar relationships (i.e. partner, family, friends) which underwrite the ‘warm’ component of their derivation profile, it logically follows that there will be an uneven impact wherever there is a change in any of the key relationships.

For whatever reason, where there is adverse shock to the ‘warm’ component (for example, death, or certain types of separation), that shock will leave a hole or gap. To maintain the prior affective state, that gap must be filled, and this is where the composition of the profile becomes pertinent.

Pollux has an advantage in that the absolute size of the gap is smaller than Castor’s by virtue of external accounting for only one third (as opposed to two thirds) of his profile. The direct implications (ceteris paribus), are that (i) the initial damage he endures will be less, and (ii) the gap will be easier to fill, Further, there may be an inherent bias toward filling the gap with the existing dominance (i.e. Pollux seeks to source internally rather than externally). Therein lies the disadvantage increasing ‘warm’ dominance inevitably leads to antisocial tendencies. In the first order, this is reflective of a trade-off of socialisation capacity against affective stability.

Digressing briefly to Greek mythology, Castor and Pollux were the twin sons born to Leda, Queen of Sparta, but to different fathers. Castor was fathered by Tyndareus, King of Sparta and was born mortal, whereas the immortal Pollux was the offspring of Zeus, King of the Gods. In modern times, we know Castor and Pollux as the twins symbolising the Zodiac sign and constellation Gemini.

Self Esteem & Social Identity

As an adjunct to external esteem, there is the linked notion of social identity. Where an individual has weak self esteem, and it is primarily an outcome of negative social identity (exclusion, rejection, isolation), the individual will typically move to somehow assuage that negative social identity. Psychological literature identifies three such routs to achieve this end:

  1. Pass (fake): presenting a façade and moving into a more desirable group without changing internal identity
  2. Exit (change): assuming a new internal identity, appearing and feeling as if they’ve changed
  3. Voice (rebel): elevating the negatively identified group

Illustratively, I’m a dork and have low self esteem because I see the shiny people who have it all. Pass would have me pretend, behaving like a shiny person to get into their group. Exit would involve me shedding the dork elements of my identity and assuming the shiny elements. Voice would require me to change my belief, such that I viewed dorks as superior to shiny people. Any one of these actions can have the effect of increasing my self esteem.

Group Influence on Self Esteem

Voice, or the elevation of a group is responsible for a not insignificant portion of most people’s external esteem; the part which is derived through identification with groups. Our species are notorious categorisers – heuristic reductionism plays a vital role in hacking a path through the dense jungle that is life. If we didn’t generalise and stereotype into groups and categories, living would become intolerably complicated.

Groups are most often defined by common internal characteristic, for example, the propensity for Goths to drape themselves in black, a tribe whose natives speak the same tongue, or a denomination which follows a unique doctrine. We form groups by ethnicity, age, social class, hobby, occupation, opinion, gender, locality, the list goes on.

Groups form for the benefit of their members. Formal groups tend to be based around an activity and have an explicitly stated objective, goal or purpose, the engagement in this activity and/or furthering/realisation of the objective yielding the major benefit to members. Then there are informal or social groups which exist primarily for their members feeling a sense of belonging. Sometimes, groups form as a result of individuals who’ve been ostracised from society for whatever reason joining together. If self-esteem is your internal perception of worth, ostracisation is a denunciation of that worth by society. Seeking out a group of some similar characteristic which elevates itself is an increasingly popular way to restore esteem lost through ostracisation.

*

Conclusion

My understanding sees self esteem as something with the fragility of porcelain, and volatility of glycerine. I would also say that self esteem is becoming increasingly unstable with each passing generation. In the greater scheme of things, today we are a planet of some 6.8 billion people, which is eighteen times what it was in 1400. Each of us is still one fish, but in a pond which is growing exponentially, we become statistically less significant. That is the mathematical argument. The sociological argument is premised on two things: (1) the industrial revolution multiplying the extremes of disparity in wealth and status, which is detrimental to esteem due to (2) humanity’s obsession with wealth and status making these two things the currency of the world.

Backtracking to the very beginning of this analysis, we established that self esteem was the value you placed on yourself, which reflects how much benefit you’ll get out of life. It is not surprising that self esteem is a casualty in a competitive and judgemental world driven by money, status and appearances. The world judges value on these quantities, and since these criteria largely dictate how much (hedonistic) benefit we get out of life, we reconcile by judging our value on these same criteria.

In conclusion, the fundamental difficulty is when a person believes they are worth less than someone who’s wealthier, has more prestige and is more attractive. As a philosopher, I’d argue the only valid valuation criteria is some universal standard of ‘goodness’ (if it exists), but even that is not strictly correct. One’s self esteem should not be held to another’s ransom. The true worth of any individual is intimately personal. The self knows itself better than anyone, and insofar as we are masters of our own destiny, so too are we masters of our esteem.

Love

 love montage

Haddaway asked the question back in 1992. Being all of six years old at the time, I was too preoccupied determining the Easter Bunny’s authenticity to give the topic due consideration. It wasn’t until 2004 that my fixation with left-hemisphere pursuits loosened its grip enough as to allow an earnest foray into the furthest reaches of the foreign domain: love.

What initially began as a simple curiosity to which I stupidly thought there was an answer, spawned into something of an exodus, consuming excess of 1,200 hours and 5,000 pages of written communication over the course of five years – and counting. I have been on an eye-watering number of first dates and am only marginally the wiser than my naïve seventeen year old self.

Attempting to demarcate the essence of love is on par with trying to catch the falling rain with a butterfly net – love doesn’t lend itself to my usual mode of analysis in the slightest. As such, I preface the following invective with an acknowledgement it will be speculation whose basis is semi-empirical evidence at best, and pure subjective opinion at worst.

My ambivalence toward the subject made it necessary to utilise two distinct frames: nostalgic romantic and detached rationalist. It has been written as dialogue between two minds, each possessing a degree of insight into the other. A narrator mediates intermittently and colours the milieu where appropriate.

~

Early one autumn afternoon, Sol sits slouched lazily on a park bench by an artificial lake, feeding ducks with crumbs from an old loaf of bread – pausing intermittently to append a random thought or observations to his ageing leather notebook, the grain chaffed and worn from its travels.

What is love? One can go through a mind-numbing number of iterations and permutations. It is an emotion, a concept, a force, an action. The more one tries to understand it, the more evasive it becomes.

His mind draws a blank: the pen isn’t out of ink, but the hand holding it is gauche. Looking toward the clouds for inspiration, thoughts cast adrift like the ashen wisps above.

Minutes pass, a tap on the shoulder brings him back to reality. ‘How long have you been sitting there like that?’ Her melodic, incisive tone had an air of familiarity about it. It takes a couple of seconds for the face to register – much older and wiser than when he’d last seen it in Introductory Psychology at university some dozen years ago. He can’t help but smile ‘I’ve…it’s been a while, Luna’

Though they’d only been classmates for one semester prior to his transfer, there was an unusual acquaintance between them that somehow survived despite the passage of all those years. They’d been assigned as unlikely partners on a research project and would constantly debate the finer points of theory and practice; hers was a highly clinical leaning, his angle more abstruse.

Their paths diverged with their degrees. Studying the mind, even for a few months, imbues insight into the self incomparable to that afforded by other domains. Luna was fascinated by its machinations, her voracious appetite for knowledge and passion to understand saw her blaze a trail, graduating top of the class. Her rise through the profession was meteoric, she completed a PhD in record time, and was running her own practice by the age of twenty-eight.

Sol wasn’t blessed with Luna’s academic faculty, and though he enjoyed learning, was often bewildered by the density of textbooks and found it difficult to grasp much of psychology’s clinical complexity. In spite of this, he managed to pass the unit on the grace of his uncanny insight into people, their motives and interaction. Aware this learning disposition would hinder his ambition of becoming a practitioner, he decided to turn the limitation into an advantage, and transferred overseas to pursue studies in Sociology and Anthropology. Sol’s motive power didn’t come from thermally bound knowledge, and no sooner than he’d begrudgingly completed his degree, he packed his life into a backpack and ventured out to explore foreign lands. His knowledge of living became the sum product of chance conversations over the years spent travelling.

Whilst Luna commanded the earnings of an eminent specialist, Sol made a comfortable living between his day job as a taxi driver and the royalties accruing from photographs taken on his travels, which were exhibited and often published for their raw depiction of culture.

~

Frame I: Objects of Love

The interaction between Luna and Sol had never followed provisions of social contract. Though over a decade had passed since their paths last crossed, there would be time for pleasantries later. For the moment; she had an intellectual curiosity that needed satiating.

LUNA  I know that pensive look – what’s on your mind?

SOL     How different the world be if everyone had your candour Luna. Don’t ask me why, but my mind has been dwelling on the matter of love lately. I feel it is something very much misunderstood and simplified; to the peril of its realisation. I’ve made a project of better understanding its intricacies, if for no other reason than to help me know when and if I find it.

Intuiting where the conversation was going, Sol pre-emptively moves his bag aside. With a solitary fluid movement, the vacated space is at once assumed.

LUNA  Ok, I’m in. What’ve you come up with so far?

SOL     My thoughts are somewhat scattered. Aside from this illegible scrawl on various tangents, I’ve made a modest start.  

Flipping to the antecedent section of his notebook, reserved for lucid writings, he begins to read the product of the last two hours aloud.

SOL     Classically, love has been dissected along the line of its object. Where the object, the beloved, is inanimate, conceptual or otherwise, it is termed impersonal love, and where the object is another human being, it is deemed interpersonal love. Further, interpersonal love can be either romantic or platonic in nature.

However, it ought to be recognised that the classical division is intrinsically unsound on grounds of internal paradox. Conflict arises when attraction is given a strong-form definition. Employing a scientific equivalent, the force of magnetism is like-for-like: the phenomenon exists exclusively between two magnetic objects. I can’t say a magnetised steel nail is attracted to, nor repelled by for that matter, a piece of wood. Between a magnetic object and a neutral object, magnetism cannot exist. Applying this rule, we conclude that love, attraction specifically, can only exist on condition of like substance. Perhaps not all of humanity actually loves per se, but the presence of capacity to love is adequate to validate the conjecture. A person cannot love an animal any more than a bottle of Vodka can love Planned Socialism.

LUNA  So you’re contending that love must necessarily be shared between people?

SOL     That is the gist of it.

Her irises flare almost imperceptibly.

LUNA  Let me play Devil’s Advocate for a moment. I’ve counselled patients who’ve loved their cars more than their partners, their jobs more than their families, and their pets more than their friends. What makes you so certain a person’s highest degree of love can only be directed toward another person? How does your argument stand up against religion? All the devout believers who hold their deity above everything else – are you saying they’re wrong?

SOL     As I understand it, yes. Love is for the most part reciprocal. There are a few exceptions, but generally speaking, without objective reciprocity, then what you have isn’t love, it is either worship or drudgery. I can share my deepest emotional anxieties with my pet Iguana, but the Iguana can’t be receptive or understanding like another person, no more than it can express its feelings to me. It is the same with everything else – I can pray, but I need to have faith that there’s someone or something listening, and that he, she or it actually cares.

People lie, yet in spite of this, I know that if there is one singularity I can communicate with, it is another human being. As long as this existence is reality, and reality is our only handle on truth; then you and I sitting here engaging in conversation proves the point. Love needs to be defined in terms of equitability, or at least potential equitability. I maintain that the only objective capacity for love which can be matched against an individual, is that of another individual.

Show me something with a heart, mind and consciousness that isn’t human and I will retract my premise in its entirety.

LUNA  You’re amusing when you get defensive. I agree insofar as your supposition that love needs to flow both ways, though I prefer look at it in a different light.

Five years ago, when I was studying for my PhD, I composed a loose theory on the exchange of energy for one of my theses, which fits your hypothesis quite well if you invoke love as a currency.

What you’re essentially saying is that love is an energy exchange or transaction, and you’re imposing a hurdle on the ‘fairness’ of the transaction, which can be modelled using a recourse coefficient. All other things being equal, if I bought you lunch; the recourse coefficient to me would be zero. But if you bought me lunch the next time, it would equalise to one.

Love engages in the same way, and I agree that to call it ‘love,’ there has to be some adequate level of reciprocity, ideally as close to one as possible.

SOL     Not so – I can think of at least one instance of love where that coefficient could be zero.

Consider the relationship between a mother and newborn. The mother loves the infant, directing enormous amounts of physical and emotional energy toward the child, in many cases prioritising the baby ahead of herself. On the flipside, the baby, being incapable of complex cognition, cannot reciprocate any measure of love; much less comprehend it, even in the most rudimentary sense.

Evidently we’re being too broad in our enquiry. Perhaps we should constrain our analysis. Let’s concentrate on romantic love.

LUNA  Seconded, otherwise we’d be liable to spend weeks splitting hairs.

So, we’ve established that love is, in principle a human phenomenon, that a unitary recourse coefficient demands an equal reciprocal flow of love, that romantic love requires reciprocity, and further that romantic love is stronger the closer this coefficient is to one. The reversal is that as the coefficient approaches zero, the relationship regresses and deteriorates.

Frame II: An Exploration of Romantic Love

LUNA  Seeing as we’ve now addressed context, how do you propose we delineate romantic love?

SOL     Allow me to preface by saying the definition is frustrated. Because love is very much individual, there is no universally agreed designation of what love is, thus rendering all analysis subjective. Without an anchor, it can float in any direction.

Personally, I am quite fond of Ayn Rand’s definition of love: the expression of one’s values, the greatest reward you can earn for the moral qualities you have achieved in your character and person, the emotional price paid by one for the joy received from the virtues of another.

He pauses, staring up at the leaden sky momentarily, before returning his gaze to Luna.

SOL     Unfortunately, her definition isn’t specific to romantic love, which has sent me back to my drawing board.

Luna drums her fingers on the park bench as her mind searches for something.

LUNA  Love is the expansion of two natures in such fashion that each include the other, each is enriched by the other. Felix Adler.

I’m good – you can say it.

Reaching into the bag, Sol proffers a piece of the stale bread, and offers it to Luna teasingly.

SOL     Oh I know you’re good, would you like a reward?

She snatches the bread and casts it melodramatically over her shoulder.

LUNA  The way I see it, romantic love is characterised by two rudiments: the force of attraction, and the energy of affection. Attraction is what draws two people together, and affection is the shared warmth between them. Romantic affection amplifies the sentiments of caring, and goodwill, but more importantly, it infuses communication and interaction with a unique sensuality which isn’t replicated in any other class of relationship.

SOL     Attraction and Affection. I picked up a fare earlier this week, and we got to discussing how those elements materialise in different guises. Her last two relationships embodied one such timeless difference.  The first relationship was characterised by feelings of craziness: intense enjoyment and blithe freedom. Her partner initiated this craziness at a ten on the scale, and she was able to respond with an eight. I suggested this was an example of ‘passionate’ love dominating. The second was more an affair of ‘intimate’ love. Whilst she didn’t feel trusting toward her ‘passionate’ partner, she trusted her ‘intimate’ partner implicitly. On the flipside, where it came to that ingredient of craziness or ‘magic,’ she was left wanting. Not being a natural instigator, she could only initiate craziness at eight on the scale, and her partner would reciprocate with a six.

It is open to debate as to whether the degree of ‘magic’ experienced is the average or the lower of the two, but it stands to reason this measure has clear implications for the intensity of passion in a relationship.

Were we to divide the elements of love into the child and the adult, the reckless/crazy juvenile who lives for the moment and does not care for consequences is more indulged where the two individuals are strongly attuned to or aligned with their child. ‘Magic’ is the upshot to the extent the child is better able to disengage from reason and reality.

By contrast, the companionate aspect of love engages deeper adult emotive forces, namely trust and sincerity – it has a long term focus. I cautiously posit that with age and maturity, the companionate aspect gradually becomes more important for reasons of stability and psychological comfort. Whilst a relationship should never lose its ‘fire,’ the magic and excitement brought by the child; one must nevertheless remain cognisant of the fact a fire will not burn for long without fuel to sustain it. In a roundabout way, this encapsulates commitment.

There’s a strong semblance to various hypotheses on ‘New Relationship Energy,’ describing the initial honeymoon phase as the essence of an induced high, which quickly withdraws or burns out as the accelerated rate of consumption exhausts fuel faster than it is able to regenerate. From the grains of truth I have collected on my travels, this is one of few tried and tested empirically.

LUNA  You’re traversing a path similar to the one that led Robert Sternberg toward his Triangular Theory of Love, which stipulates passion, intimacy and commitment as the three basic elements. When combined in various ways, these elements constitute seven types of love. Under his model, passion and intimacy together form the basis for ‘romantic love,’ but compassionate love, the ‘holy grail,’ requires the third element: commitment.

I think we’re approaching clarity of definition, but we need to invoke commitment. Temporality is the missing link. Romantic love can be either transitory or enduring. Passionate love is transitory, but merged with commitment; it becomes enduring compassionate love. Semantics is a strange route to get there, but the logic supports a conclusion that commitment governs between transitory and enduring.

SOL     Despite all we’ve said about dividing love into its elements, I’m still inclined to view it more simplistically: as an adventure.

I’m speaking of love in the same breath as adventure because the two concepts are inextricably linked. Neither know boundaries, both are indelibly exciting and dangerous, neither follow logic, and both are impulsive and unpredictable. One cannot plan an adventure anymore than one can force love. There is only the heat of the moment and enduring momentum. Life is an adventure that gets progressively more interesting, and love is an irrational but integral part of that adventure. Life would be at a great loss without love, and dare I say it, living and loving are not too dissimilar in form and meaning.

LUNA  Brilliantly poetic – have you ever considered a career as a writer?

SOL     Career is such a dirty word – it is a pastime. Money should never motivate a creative pursuit; such a betrayal pollutes the sincerity of expression.

Speaking of motivations, I’ve a question to ask of you Luna; why do you love?

Frame III: Motivation to Love

The loaded question provokes a flashback. Luna recalls the story of a Professor setting an open essay with the question ‘Why?’ One word. His students wrote extensive, complex responses: ten, twenty pages. Only one submission received full marks. It was a blank sheet, save for two words: ‘Why not?’

LUNA  Why do I love? There are a few reasons, and I am tempted to launch into lecture, but sometimes the answer is surreptitiously simple. I love because it makes me feel good, and to be loved back.

SOL     Interesting that you should mention both – most people I ask only identify the one, but they often don’t recognise that the two motivations are intimately associated. Would it still make you feel good if you weren’t loved back?

LUNA  Dispassionately, it wouldn’t, and I wish I’d learnt as much earlier. Loving for the sake of being loved back appears a selfish motivation on face value, but it is no different from any other motivation, they’re all selfish.

At least in a romantic context, there is no such thing as selfless love, it does not appear love can be justifiably separated from pleasure. All routes of justification lead to some form of psychological satisfaction. The raison d’être for romantic love is intrinsically possessed of a selfish element.

Granted what we get in return may not always be love, we still get something.

SOL     My thoughts exactly. It concerns me when I cross paths with self-styled martyrs who believe loving is selfless and noble, because it truly isn’t. Self-serving behaviour is dominant, anything contrary is regressive and eventually becomes extinct. Love’s prevalence attests to its selfish nature.

Which isn’t to say selfishness is a bad thing; more often than not, the fruits of our endeavour toward happiness are shared.

LUNA  Shared happiness – that opens up another door: love and marriage. Notions of shared happiness are common to both, and there are parallels between what motivates each.

SOL     Despite love and marriage sharing common premises, marriage needs to be kept divorced from love, if you’ll excuse the pun. Conceptually the two are far from interchangeable and their overlap is chronically overestimated. Marriage is the social institutionalisation of love.

But you’re right, in terms of motivation, there are many parallels between love and marriage.

I attended a talk given by Alain de Botton some months ago, during which he made quite a salient point in that prior to the eighteenth century; you married someone not for love, but because their family’s farm adjoined yours.

It got me thinking about convenience. Alain was pointing out that historically, the ‘marriage of convenience’ was not only socially acceptable, but quite normal. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I look around, and can’t help but notice the contemporary notion of love is moving in the same direction: convenience.

Where do we draw the line?

LUNA  No, you’re onto something there. Now that I think about it, a common theme I often note about many of my Generation Y patients is their pursuit of instant gratification. It manifests primarily in a material sense, but also in the metaphysical. They spend now rather than save for a rainy day, their thoughts seldom dwell beyond the upcoming weekend, and their attitude toward relationships leans heavily toward utilitarianism.

Clearly, utilitarianism is a harbinger to a reweighting of perspective such that the significance of long term stability and profundity yields to short term convenience benefits encompassing physical contact, intimacy, time structuring, social conformity and comfort. As this attitude becomes more ingrained, we get a self-reinforcing decay in the definition and esteem of love.

I’ve always held that a relationship whose predominant component is convenience is not love, rather a repetitive commercial transaction involving inferior currency.

SOL     I sense there’s a conflict between what you think and what you feel. Why is finding love so significant in your life?

LUNA  I’m thirty-two, run my own practice, I’ve travelled the world, and am at the stage where the only thing missing is a relationship. If I could find that final piece of the jigsaw, I’d be a very happy woman indeed.

Sol sighs, fumbles for a piece of bread and casts it out onto the water. A nearby flock of ducks scramble toward it, but are outfoxed by a sly seagull that had been eyeing the bag of bread intently for some time. He smiles, amused by the apt reminder of patience.

SOL     Would I be accurate in saying you’ve had a string of intense relationships, but at some point in each, you suddenly realised it wouldn’t work out long term? 

LUNA  The generalisation you’ve just made would apply to most people. Fortunately for you, I am one of them. Tell me why I’m conflicted.          

SOL     You’re conflicted because your mind rails against love being a convenience, yet you’re subconsciously pursuing it for similar reasons: the missing piece to your puzzle. I have known people who’ve pursued love to fill a gap, a partner who completes them. Each time, their endeavour has ultimately come to grief.

Pausing to remove a bottle of water from his bag, he finds a metaphor.

SOL     Say I had an open wine bottle – it makes sense for me to find a cork that fits snugly to ensure the wine keeps. This mindset is too often prevalent in the perception of love. You find a cork to plug the bottle. You’d be familiar with this thought pattern from your patients.

Under assumption of homeostasis, there is nothing logically wrong with trying to find a fit. However, reality is not homeostatic – the aperture of the bottle and cork are both dynamic: they grow. If a close correspondence between size of the aperture and the cork is not maintained, one of two things must eventually happen. Either the cork will fall and drown in the wine, contaminating it in the process, or the bottle will shatter under excessive pressure caused by the cork. Relationships respect this rule when they exist as ‘plugs’ for holes in either or both partner’s lives.

The first equivalent outcome is that the bottle, a proxy for individual’s emotional/psychological needs, outgrows the cork, which is a proxy for partner’s capacity to fulfil them, and the cork is no longer enough to ensure the wine keeps.  If you like, the cork feels inadequate, the bottle resentful, and either initiates a dissolution.

The second equivalent outcome is that the cork, or the partner’s emotional maturity, outgrows the bottle, in this case the emotionally immature individual, and the bottle is shattered. The cork awakens, and initiates dissolution, causing the bottle to suffer damage.

This feeds directly into causes for dissolution. When we look at life as a jigsaw, something we all do, we often neglect dynamism, the tendency for the picture to change. We concentrate on finding the piece which fits the best now, but don’t think much about how the picture will look ten or twenty years from today.

From what you’ve revealed, your relationships have always been fulfilling in the moment, but have corroded because you’ve been on different tracks, one growing faster, the other slower. At some point the distance becomes so great you can’t see them anymore. Further, it seems you’re looking for a missing piece.

Frame IV: Love, Despondency and Indifference

LUNA  Perhaps I should be the one sitting on the chaise lounge? You’ve made a fair assessment, but your logic has committed an error of omission. I’ll concur there may be some merit in saying love should not be a prosthetic that completes, but you can’t escape the fact it is a band-aid.

Rather than make a rash generalisation, take a step back. Love is also one of few socially acceptable mystic coping mechanisms for living anxiety, arguably more prevailing than the likes of religion.

You cannot therefore deny ‘filling a gap’ as a valid motivation. To the extent love assuages anxiety, it is by definition compensatory. To elucidate, I used to debate internally the question ‘does love miss?’ or, rather, ‘should love miss?’ Conventionally, when one is in love, and there is an unforeseen and prolonged separation, such as a lengthy and unexpected overseas trip, feelings of loss, withdrawal and anxiety are typically borne by both individuals. The evidence that we don’t reconcile with and accept separation without ill feeling, rather allow it to persist as a thorn in our side illustrates that love fills a gap; otherwise, we wouldn’t miss.

To validate the compensatory aspect of love, consider the misalignment of society itself. Having even one person ‘understand’ you goes some way in mitigating the crippling loneliness most people would feel if we were to strip away all other psychological distractions. The world is a very false and apathetic place, thus the value of finding truth and love to assuage this piercing feeling of loneliness is profound.

SOL     We’ve a lexical misunderstanding. I’ll need to backtrack and refine my logic.

If we take ‘filling a gap’ as being finding that person that fits with your life, someone to accompany you on the rollercoaster ride, to fill the empty seat next to you, I have no issue with that and can identify with needing to find that missing piece.

What you’re articulating isn’t so much filling a gap as plugging a hole. Metaphorically, one fills a gap for the sake of structural or aesthetic completeness, but one plugs a hole to prevent a ship from sinking.

Using love to plug a hole is effectively unidirectional stabilisation, whereby one partner becomes the emotional crutch preventing the other from falling over. 

I take issue here because unidirectional stabilisation can be viewed as an emotional power differential that persists to one side, and is therefore a charge/custodian relationship, as opposed to an equitable union.

LUNA  If you’re invoking equitability, then it implies two people who are similarly damaged by the world, two people who do not ‘love’ themselves; can form a relationship of bidirectional stabilisation. They would still have an equitable union.

SOL     In all honesty, I haven’t considered that angle. Can we invoke the mathematical reasoning that if love is a pairing of like charges, then the two charges could be negative, as well as positive? I’m afraid I don’t have an answer to that question.

LUNA  It’s beside the point in any case. Back to our thread of discussion, there are a lot of sinking ships out there. I’ve an inkling the vast majority feel there is something fundamentally wrong with the world, but find the fact so painful to confront they subconsciously structure their lives to avoid an encounter with the question. Perhaps it shouldn’t be, but love is an elegant solution to this problem.

SOL     I’ll give you that. Your interpretation is realistic, because the feeling of which you speak is insidious, though you’re neglecting the comorbidity. The world’s ‘fundamental wrongness’ is borne of two deficiencies, thus can only be resolved by correcting both.

Love and justice are the two wings upon which humanity is carried. In the absence of either, we will fall. One of those wings is broken, and the other, even beating in double time, cannot compensate.

Soothsayers preach ‘love is all you need,’ but there is a reason this mindset fails. Indeed, love is a lever that can move the world, but justice is its fulcrum – and insofar as corruption and subversion of justice persist, love’s exertion will forever be in vain.

For love to be an omnipotent solution, sufficient unawareness is required. To those who live without cognisance, love can surmount most anxieties, death being the only exception. Once we reach a point of critical awareness, we realise love is only part of the solution, and that the world righting itself isn’t quite as simple as the ‘good’ that is love triumphing over the evil of hate.

Whilst dark is the absence of light, the truism does not hold when the poles are replaced with love and hate. Love’s opposite is indifference, hate is its inverse. Indifference is the absence of feeling. Love and hate are the two extreme states of projected feeling. The universe is neutral, indifference is its natural state, but we as humans have the capacity to go either way. So the battle is one in which the active forces of love and justice are pitted against indifference, their common enemy.

Luna, engrossed in the philosophical foray, but not wanting to appear as such, removes a tube of aubergine lipstick from her handbag and begins to apply it, feigning disinterest.

LUNA  Sol, that was a digression of biblical proportion. At no point in that diatribe did you speak to the topic we are engaging.

Frame V: The Ignition of Love

Forcing a faux cough, Sol returns fire.

SOL     Lipstick isn’t necessary if you’re trying to seduce me. You had me at hello.

Believe it or not, I was leading into the ignition of romantic love before I was so discourteously interrupted. Specifically, any move away from that base state of neutrality, directed toward another, engenders the development of an affective relationship. Love is one of the positive routes diverging from the neutral state.

LUNA  See, it is that divergence which interests me. I’ve lost track of the anecdotes I’ve heard about instantaneous divergence to the positive extreme, more commonly known as love at first sight. Can love be ignited by eyes locking across a train carriage? Is there such thing as an instant connection?

They are rhetorical questions. Instant connections are feasible, but love at first sight is fictitious and ignorant of certain prerequisites. A pertinent example is communication involving cognitive exchange. Whenever I hear a story about falling in love after a five minute conversation, or worse still upon seeing someone for the first time, it disconcerts me. It is beyond my understanding how any person can develop the necessary conviction to appellate love given such inadequate information.

The gravity of such a decision warrants much more consideration than many give it. As far as investments go, your biggest investment decision in life won’t be buying a home, but whether you’ll have a life partner, and who that person will be. No other venture compares in terms of outlay: time, energy, even your ‘soul’ to an extent. It is not something to be taken lightly, which is why love at first sight is altogether foolish.

Further, I believe there is a kinaesthetic prerequisite, which stipulates communicative exchange must occur in person. I am increasingly sceptical about ‘love’ via such conveyances as telephone and internet. Energy of this nature cannot possibly be conducted via copper wires. As the sparks fly, love bridges physical space like a bolt from a Van de Graff generator, it cannot be instigated in any other medium.

SOL     Talking prerequisites, considerations of exchange are important I’d agree, but the imperative criterion that qualifies one to love is self-worth. To say “I love you,” one must first be able to say the “I.”

Rand’s quote, not mine, but a slam dunk nevertheless. I don’t believe it possible to truly love someone else if you do not love yourself. It is a prerequisite to love that the heart must first beat on its own accord, and so must pump blood to itself. Love cannot be projected from a comatose heart.

LUNA  If an unconscious heart can’t love, how would you define consciousness? One could argue being in love, under a spell, is itself a lapse of consciousness. When people fall in love, they often become less conscious.

SOL     On the first point, you’ve got to question whether we have control over the emotion, or whether we are spellbound into it. My conceptual understanding is that love, indeed falling in love can resemble a loss of consciousness because it involves a degree of surrender. Perhaps this is why the operative verb is ‘falling.’

Personally though, I’ve always had trouble with the imagery. Is the pit bottomless? Do we ever hit the bottom, or are we constantly ‘falling’ in love? I’ve found love more of a climb. One falls, or rather plummets haphazardly into infatuation, not love. Love is more methodical than we care to admit to ourselves.

I have stupidly ‘fallen’ into infatuation before, obstinately assuming an overconfident understanding, only to be proven wrong. I thought I had a handle on love – many times, but it has taken me the better part of a decade to recognise love for what it is.

It is like being given a seed. You don’t know what kind, but you look for a good patch of soil, plant it, water it, and watch what develops. The planting phase can be methodical if we so desire. Often the seed doesn’t sprout at all, other times what does grow withers and dies. But every now and again, one of those seeds will develop into an enduring tree of friendship. Sometimes we are treated to a surprise even rarer: as the exquisite flower of love blossoms and flourishes.

Without realising it, we are all planting seeds. If life were a garden, we’d desire a few sturdy oaks to lean against, elms to provide cover from the elements, and perhaps varieties of maple and cherry for colour. At the heart of the garden, the centrepiece, is a flower: a scarlet rose, a pallid orchid, a vivid yellow daffodil; a pleasure to behold. Its image is the quintessence of mystical beauty to the eye of its beholder, and its scent, that of an enthralling opiate.

Unconsciously betraying her awkwardness with Sol’s quixotic allegory, Luna shifts posture.

LUNA  Let’s go for a walk, I need a change of scenery. Besides (glancing down at the empty bread bag), you’re out of ammo.

SOL     So I am.

As the two abandon the park bench, sheets of light drizzle begin to fall. Luna produces a scarlet cylinder from her handbag, which she deftly transforms into a surprisingly broad canopy.  

LUNA  I know a hideout nearby, fancy a coffee?

He gestures to link arms.

SOL     Given you’re the one with the umbrella, I don’t believe I have a choice.

Frame VI: The Growth of Love

Twenty minutes’ reflective silence underlines the route to Luna’s café.  By the time they arrive, the drizzle has intensified to a lashing downpour. The wall of warmth and chatter that hits them crossing the threshold into the café is a welcome contrast to the cold sterility outside: two extremes separated by a windowpane.

Typifying gender roles, Sol commandeers a table whilst Luna saunters toward the counter to inspect the sweets.

Surveying from his post at a corner table, Sol can observe the whole cafe. Bluestone walls, dark floorboards of perhaps teak or jarrah; distressed tables made from old polished railway sleepers, and chairs upholstered in weathered chocolate leather. It is busy, but quiet. A gentleman in his fifties wearing a driver’s hat sits alone at the far end, immersed in The Art of War. At the table adjacent, a posse of young bohemians gossip in hushed undertones. They are stealing glances toward the counter, where a tall, rugged-looking barista operates the vintage fire-engine red Gaggia.

Luna returns skilfully carrying two cappuccinos and a plate, atop which sits a rather large blueberry Danish. Sol draws her chair and raises an eyebrow.

 LUNA Don’t worry, I’ll share.

Apologies for switching off while we were walking; it’s been a while since I’ve last had an intense conversation on such a perplexing topic. Where were we?

SOL     I believe I was waxing lyrical about flora, at which point you became slightly disconcerted.

LUNA  It wasn’t the metaphor that bothered me, only the way you said it. It was idealistic but accurate, and there are some truths that I’d rather not confront.

Thinking about it whilst we were walking, I actually quite like your metaphor. Extending it further, if we’re in the business of planting seeds, the topic becomes the growth of love. To borrow from your imagery, one can’t just cast a seed and expect it spring up, it needs time and the right conditions.

SOL     Curious. We appreciate the importance of the right conditions, but often ignore the role of adverse conditions.

LUNA  In what sense?

SOL     Adversity could mean fights, shocks, external threats, anything that potentially undermines love really. It was explained to me using the immune system as an allegory.

Introduce a virus to the body and one of two things will happen. A weak immune system will succumb to the virus. A strong immune system will fight and emerge stronger. Introduce a shock to love, the story is the same. Weak love will surrender. Strong love will prevail. How you feel about a person in the days after an argument should give you a fairly good idea of the strength of the bond between you.

LUNA  I see what you’re saying, the power to resist damaging forces and shocks being a litmus test for a relationship, but through adversity isn’t the model way love should grow.

Generally speaking, love grows or becomes stronger in two distinct ways. The first, which you alluded to, is cyclic growth whereby resolving or ‘moving through’ conflicts results in a stronger bond being forged. A similar biological process, known as microtrauma is the basis of Hypertrophy or muscle growth. When placed under stress, strands of muscle fibre tear, which the body then replaces, overcompensating with additional muscle tissue to prevent recurrence of damage.

When people refer to the proverbial rollercoaster, that’s cyclic growth. Ideally, love’s growth should be non-cyclic, occurring as two individuals become more involved, their connection becoming deeper.

SOL     From experience, I’m familiar with the ‘creative destruction’ of cyclic growth, but admittedly I’m intrigued by your ‘non-cyclic’ growth.

When you describe a deepening connection, how do you demonstrate it? Is it the two personalities becoming more entwined? Is it the sharing of experiences? Is it simply through interaction? If a deepening connection is growth, what feeds it?

Their conversation is interrupted by a loud ringtone from the adjacent table. A metallic rendition of Empire of The Sun’s Walking on a Dream issues from the phone’s small speaker.

“Is it real now? Two people become one”

“I can feel it, two people become one”

One of the young bohemians smiles, grabs her still ringing handset, and scurries toward an empty corner.

Luna lowers her voice.

LUNA  I’ll stake you the bill it’s the latest crush.

SOL     Won’t make any difference, I was going to pay anyway.

LUNA  Ha.

Two become one. Well that definitely isn’t the answer to your question. I don’t believe the whole entwining mantra. Lyrical sounding, but surely among the most common and dangerous fallacies applied to love. Love is not a fusing of identities. In fact, deductive reversal of this logic implies that a love dissolved results in two half-people.

I can’t think of many things more painful, from an observational perspective, than couples who conduct themselves as a single entity. Living in each other’s pockets, so to speak, gives rise to considerable problems. Without adequately autonomous lives outside the relationship, which include hobbies, pursuits, friends, and without sufficient time apart, staleness develops.

I wouldn’t have eaten that Danish if it were stale.

Which leads me to your question of what feeds love: interaction, shared experience, getting to know one another better, pursuit of shared goals – they’re the obvious. It is the obscure which interests me. So long as we’re feeding love, its regime should have some variety, and this is the Achilles’ heel of enmeshed couples: lack of differential experience.

If you believe as I do that part of a relationship’s energy comes from differential experience, then the capacity to learn from each other through sharing diminishes the more the circles of experience overlap. Imagine a relationship with a co-worker who had a job role identical to your own, sat next to you, attended all the same meetings, and worked on the same projects: monotony would be an understatement.

Differential experience can be derived in two ways: actual distinct experience, for example the clients encountered by a waitress versus a criminal lawyer, and distinct interpretations of the same experience; for example two people on the same rollercoaster, one may feel exhilaration, the other fear. In a concentric relationship, the latter may still provide some fuel, but it is the element of separation in pastimes that creates energy by ensuring there is always something new to share or discuss.

Luna glances wistfully toward the display counter.

LUNA  Well it looks like you’ve covered the diet side of things covered with experience. Experience provides sustenance for growth, although there’s more to it. If experience is a food, then expression is an exercise. After all, we want love to grow, but also to maintain strength. Hold that thought.

Before Luna can excuse herself, Sol darts from the table.

He returns a minute later with a fudge brownie.

SOL     I hope I intuited correctly. You were craving chocolate, right?

LUNA  You’re scary.

Luna continues her discourse between mouthfuls.

LUNA  Of my many grievances with moral decay into something of a materialistic wasteland is the mutilation of expression. Since when was there a correlation between the expression of love and the size of a diamond, the frequency of outings, and degree of risqué hazarded making out in public? What constitutes an expression of love?

Sol pauses for effect.

SOL     There are expressions and then there are indicators. Indicators are physical manifestations of lust, which betray interest. Expressions carry a much deeper meaning. Often the gestures are the same, except they elicit heightened sensory sensation – visual, auditory, olfactory, kinaesthetic impacts on an elevated, almost mesmerising level.

To converse in a noisy café and feel like you’re the only two people in the room?

He fixes an intense gaze upon her.

SOL     Looking so deeply into someone’s eyes that you are in the moment, out of focus?

He accosts her hand.

SOL     Holding hands and feeling as if the connection is more than one of flesh?

He stands, leaning across the table toward her, their faces almost touch.

SOL     A whisper in your ear that sends shivers down your spine?

He sits back down.

LUNA  To be honest, you sound like a bleeding heart.

SOL     We have intellectualised and sacrificed so much to appearances, surrendering those expressions which move. Frozen hearts don’t bleed, I’m just an animal looking for a home.

Frame VII: Love’s Inherent Uncertainty

LUNA  That’s a nice thought, but you know better. Animals find homes. People inhabit and then move on to greener pastures. It is our nature.

Realising the plaintiveness of his remark, and knowing she’s caught him out, he doesn’t seek to defend himself.

SOL     Apologies, that was careless of me. You’re right, we are maximising creatures. Our entire way of life responds to a maximisation problem. We work to maximise our living standards. We socialise to maximise the amount of external energy we receive. We seek maximum efficiency, longevity, quality, power, satisfaction.  Insofar as the two states of contentedness and desire are concerned, the former is elusive, and the latter is boundless. As long as we want after something more, we are never truly content.

Love is no stranger to the maximisation dilemma. The question “could there be something more out there?” is a salient one. If happiness hinges on being ‘content,’ and love is a core pursuit in life, it stands to reason that being in a state of uncertain love inevitably precludes fulfilment. The niggling question of ‘what if’ is an especially pervasive issue with love. Ignorance overcomes this to a large degree, because the ‘what if’ isn’t posed and present reality is not questioned. Some people will spend the rest of their lives with the first person they date.

There is an inverse correlation between experiential breadth and ‘what if’ dystonic. Logically, if you are presented with a tasting plate of everything on a restaurant’s menu before making a selection, you’re never going to leave with the feeling you could’ve ordered better.

LUNA  I’d hesitate in practically applying that analogy to love, because one wouldn’t live long enough to go on a million dates. In any case, we’re dealing with a different kettle of fish: we don’t need the absolute certainty that comes from trying all the dishes; rather, we just need enough – enough to identify and understand what we want and what we don’t. Each incremental ‘date’ or interaction with a different potential partner confers higher understanding of love, and reduces the ‘what if’ issue. It isn’t possible to eliminate it completely, but you eventually arrive at a critical point where you’re satisfied.

As with most spheres of human endeavour, such repetitive action adheres to the Learning Attenuation Hypothesis, or the law of diminishing marginal experience. Let’s assume 1024 is the magic number of points you need to perfectly understand love. Learning attenuation goes something like this: you gain 512 points from your first relationship, 256 from your second, 128 from your third, and so on. With each additional or successive relationship, you gain experience, but the amount diminishes. An imperative feature of this model is that reaching 1024 (perfect understanding) is statistically impossible. After ten relationships, you will be at 99.9% (1023/1024), yet irrespective of how many relationships you have, you’ll never quite get there. The other aspect is the number of points you need to have to quash ‘what if.’ You might only need 700 points, in which case you’ll know love after your second relationship. Someone else may require 1,000 – the threshold will vary for each individual.

Sol casts his eyes downward, momentarily crestfallen, before abruptly turning toward Luna, enlivened with audacity, as a wry grin spreads across his face.

SOL     How is it that you always manage to find a way to sterilise perfectly good allegories with mathematics? You’re such a geek – but I won’t oppose your Learning Attenuation Hypothesis, because by that measure, with over a thousand points, I must surely be winning.

Positioning to leave, her countenance darkens, placing a distance between them.

LUNA  Asshat– we’re supposed to be having an intellectual discussion. Stop being so immature and grow up.

Taken aback, Sol opens his mouth in defence, but is besieged for words. Unable to maintain a straight face, she bursts into laughter and playfully nudges him.

LUNA  I really had you going there.

A wry grin betrays his defeat.

SOL     Cheap shot.

LUNA  Cheap…

… Sometimes I feel we’ve made love cheap.

~

Frame VIII: The Valuation of Love

Heavy with the weight of reflection, a minute’s silence passes before it is broken by five peals of a bell resonating from a Cathedral nearby. She hesitates before speaking.

LUNA  I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.

SOL     Whyever for? You’re right, we have made it cheap, although we probably feel so for different reasons. Care to expound on yours?

LUNA  For me, it is the way people throw the term around; their willingness to ascribe or employ the ubiquitous L word where it does not belong. Further, the degree of delusion when it comes to love is enormous. If I had a dollar for every clueless couple I’ve seen who’ve purported to be madly in love without appreciating the half of what love entails, I would be sipping a Paraiso in Bora Bora right now.

SOL     I think you’re being too clinical about it Luna, whilst we can agree on love being evasive, there is no neat little formula that can explain it. Who’s to say you need a PhD in Philosophy in order to attain love?

LUNA  Clinical? Are you trying to patronise me?

I know there’s no formula and that people impose different standards on love. For some, the object of love is simply something they like; for others, the object must necessarily capture their soul. I am not seeking to deny the massive variability in quantum and requirement. What I am alluding to is the fact there is a higher degree of love, the understanding of which appears lost on most people.

If you believe Dr. Eric Berne, we are all supposedly engaged in a perpetual struggle for enveloping physical intimacy, and in lieu of its attainment, compromise by substituting other pillars of psychological support that are often linked to recognition and social intercourse.

When I say ‘cheapened,’ it goes much deeper than just what we choose to slap the ‘love’ label on. It goes right down to the core of what unadulterated love is. Either people have forgotten the meaning, or else become so lazy as to accept a contemptible substitute. I am referring here to settling for less and erroneous substitution; the mechanisms by which love has been devalued.

Love is an inexorable need, and where anxiety exists over such a need being unfulfilled, we have three options. We can either continue pursuing it, redoubling our efforts until we get what we want, we can reduce our standards and expectations, or, we can engage in substitution.

You’d agree that among the more critical considerations with regard to life itself is the sheer amount of energy focussed, directly or indirectly, toward the attainment of ‘love’ in some form. Look around you: a cursory glance reveals an overwhelming tendency to substitute ‘love from the world,’ which may take the form of fame, attention, and recognition, for the ‘true’ love characterised by broadly commensurate exchange of energy. Energy which carries higher charge than energy issuing from anything lesser: the only kind strong enough to stop your heart.

Suddenly self-conscious of nearing the threshold of becoming emotional, she restrains herself.

LUNA  ‘True’ love and ‘enveloping physical intimacy’ are soubriquets for unadulterated love, which is not magnificently definable, but at the very least has no artificial surrogate, is devoid from contaminations of deception, and utilises one’s full affective capacity.

Her turmoil is perceptible to Sol, yet despite the temptation to capitalise on it, he acquiesces. His next card continues the detached suit being played.

SOL     Therein lies the hook. We can inductively reason the centrality of finding untainted love is premised on living in a tainted world. Love has value because it is a genuine among counterfeits, a truth among lies, and a whole among remnants.

Frame IX: Impediments and Illusions

SOL     Absolutely, unadulterated love is fundamental. We have an innate need to feel we’ve found it. But its realisation is challenging because we often sabotage it.

The first way we sabotage, as you mentioned, is through skewing understanding. When something doesn’t fit, we try to make it fit. When we don’t feel unadulterated love, we delude ourselves that we do.

Such confusion on a large scale primes the trap of argumentum ad populum or bandwagon fallacy that contends something is validated a truth because it is believed by the vast majority.

This is precisely why scores of pollutants contaminate the contemporary understanding of love. We attach to love delusional social proofs. Romanticised notions of love which bombard us daily are not realistic and exacerbate the already pervasive unawareness.

Behaviour, the second sabotage, follows directly from the first. If the understanding is incorrect, any actions based on that understanding will also be incorrect.

Which brings us back on topic. Absurd though it may seem for a humble taxi driver, I have read Berne, but found his analysis focuses too narrowly upon psychological game theory itself. Relevant to our discussion no doubt, except that a link is missing. Evidently the romantic relationship is an auditorium in which games, particularly those involving power and manipulation, resonate most vociferously.

It would seem what we’re dealing with here is the mutual exclusivity of love and power.

“Where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.”

Jung’s platitude is the missing link yielding vital implications for romantic love. Insofar as they are viewed as opposing forces, power and love are inversely correlated. This is precisely why ‘games’ are an impediment to unadulterated love; because games work on perceived and actual differentials in power that follow from manipulation.

The two most common power differentials are sexual in favour of the female, and emotional in favour of the male. Where a relationship is established and one partner seeks to manipulate the other, there is a power differential.

It is idealistic to set the bar so high, but unadulterated love, in the absolute sense, is characterised by a zero power differential in perpetuity. Humanity, for its instability and imperfection, may subscribe to a less strenuous standard: a power differential which oscillates between the two individuals such that it is roughly equal in the long run. Where it is consistently in favour of one individual, the relationship is not one of love, but of appropriation.

Unless the ‘games’ such as flirting, evasion and the like, are fully understood by both participants and acknowledged for what they are, then they are obstructive. Game theory, strictly defined, implies there must be a winner and a loser. Love is (or rather should be) an equilibrium concept where both parties win. Therefore games and love are diametrically opposed.

The storm clouds have painted the sky outside a sinister shade of gunmetal. Dressed in black, a petite waitress with a short bob of auburn hair traverses the café, stopping to illuminate the tea-light candles which sit atop each table. Sol winks at her, she blushes a subtly embarrassed shade of rose, and pretends not to have noticed.

LUNA  Could you be any more insufferable?

SOL     What? Things were getting too serious, I needed to break the spell.

LUNA  I’m going to put you under a spell if you don’t start being a bit more decorous.

Come to think of it, there’s something to be said for spells and sabotage. Gaming and manipulation are apprentice’s enchantments. Their powerful iterations of obsession and possession are the hexes of hazard.

These two inflict a great deal of damage, though it seldom appears so at the time. Oftentimes post-relationship dynamic is telling of whether what existed prior to the dissolution was in fact love. In the cases of obsession and possession, better clarity comes retrospectively, after the sabotage has occurred.

For example, conveyance of emotional energy in context of love draws a line in the sand between devotion and obsession. The difference between devotion and obsession is most clear post mortem, evidenced by the absence or presence of toxicity. Whilst fractured devotion will often be followed to acceptance rather than resentment, obsessive love will most always result in spiteful feeling or conduct by one or both parties following a dissolution or breakup.

In the moment, devotion is characterised by loyalty and constancy, whereas obsession is asphyxiating and envious. Such envy, along with insecurity, is also a defining trait of possessive love. From what I’ve seen, possessive relationships frequently involve the male exercising emotional property rights over the female, equivalent to assuming ownership.

SOL     Whoa – hold on Germaine, do my ears deceive me? Is that a feminism bias I sense?  Do you have any idea how many guys I know who are whipped better than spray-can cream?

Overhearing Sol’s quip, the man in the driver’s cap grins knowingly from behind his book. The outlandish metaphor causes Luna to involuntarily visualise a domestically subservient husband and completely lose her train of thought. She shakes her head and takes some moments to find it again.

LUNA  Whichever foot the shoe is on, the fact remains: a person is not a material possession. Emotional possession has no more a place in modern society than slavery. Though some may argue two parents ‘own’ a child up to some arbitrary age; in this relationship, the parents are not owners, they are custodians. Love is liberating, ownership takes captive.

SOL     Insightful observation. We’ve conversed at length, but the ultimate question demands lucidity.

Is love an illusion, and if not, what makes it real?   

Frame X: A Treatise on Love

They sit in silence for several minutes. The calm is shattered by an explosion of violent eloquence.

LUNA  If love is an illusion, this reality is hollow, we might as well be automatons. What makes love between two people real is when they do not hold it to any definition or standard other than their own, and where that mutual understanding is in accord with a deep connection, based on more than appearances and worldly considerations; when it cannot be severed by sharp edges of adversity, undermined by attempts to sabotage, nor corrupted by influence of society; when it endures by the focussed will of the two partners alone, not for convenience, manipulation, appearances, nor drudgery. That is what makes love real.

Love does not keep secrets, no matter how painful the truth

Love is obliging; it does not belong with competitive games

Love follows no choreography, it makes itself up as it goes along

Love is the energy of chaos, harnessed fruitfully

Love sees with the vividness of the entire spectrum, never in monotone

Love is not a means to any other end, it is the end

Engrossed, they have yet to realise the café is now empty.

They are the only people there.

~

Afterword

My single largest obstacle in writing this entry was the vicious nature of enquiry yielding more questions than it answered. Each person with whom I engaged the topic presented different angles and experiences which both refined and reduced my understanding simultaneously. It has consumed the better part of three months, colliding against the inadequacy of my understanding, and trying in vain to find an alternative route. Of course, all attempts were preordained futile given my topic affords reason no sympathy.

Love will forever be subject to the context in which it exists. Normative judgements, as reflected in this dialogue are the only assertions one can make in a desert whose aridity desiccates objectivity.

The working brief I imposed on this entry was to render the most abstract of phenomena into something that marginally resembled a coherent framework. Clearly I have failed abysmally.

True to love’s form, with each degree of clarity I gain, each time my focus of sight sharpens, my vision becomes that much more a blur. Climbing a mountain and every time I perceive its peak, another wall of stone rises. It is everything and it is nothing. Everything if and when I find it, and when I choose to acknowledge it. Nothing when I can convince myself it doesn’t matter.

In preceding years, I have been fortunate enough to cross paths with people who have shared insights, challenged my perceptions and taught me. In this regard I would like to convey gratitude to those who have lent their essence to my understanding. Pia, Abbigail, April, Sera, Karen, Clare, Nicole, Johanna, Emelye, Bethany, Stephanie, Maya, Jane, Kaye, Nina, Dixie, Alexandra, Elena, Elizabeth, Genevieve, Sophie, Alicia, Nina, Pip, Ellen, and Tamara.

An entry of this nature can only be issued from a quill drawn with poison. I am blessed and haunted by such an inkwell. A state of idyllic love should preclude and incapacitate such diagnostic analysis. I cast aside my pen unconcerned by whatever judgement may befall me for these words. I am unashamedly a hunter of knowledge and accept with the eternal pursuit all its occupational hazards. Projection, however ill-informed or biased it may be, is a necessary implement which I have at my disposal and will use without diplomacy, indiscriminately, wherever it works toward my ends.

It isn’t so much the answer that concerns me, as not posing the question.

 Paul Xavier Waterstone, July 13 2009

Smackdown / GFC

I told you so.

Some eighteen months ago, in September 2007, I wrote of the danger inherent in escalating imbalances:

“The power and inevitability with which corrective force strikes never seems to register with the average person.”

smackdown composite

Given my aversion to the overused cliché of GFC (Global Financial Crisis) and other variations and iterations of the recession thematic, I am simply going to be blunt, referring to it as ‘Smackdown;’ having fashioned a suitable working definition that goes something like this:

Smackdown (n.): ‘punishment’ of epic proportion inflicted upon an oblivious/unwary mark.

Unlike the average economist, I won’t pretend to have exceptional insight through which I can neatly explain and rationalise the Smackdown to cause and effect. Instead, this ‘analysis’ (I use the term lightly) will be an exercise in interdisciplinary synthesis between economics and social psychology – hopefully ending up with an Iron Chef Michiba (86.5% win ratio from 38 battles) style dish by the end of it.

We will commence by delineating the economics, so as to provide grounding for the analysis.

State of Play

In very simple terms, the present debacle originated from cheap debt coupled with aggressive risk-taking, greed and stupidity. Speculation and optimism created a bubble in asset markets, which supported growth in spending, financed by increasing asset values.

Imagine purchasing a house for $100,000 with a loan, and a few years later, the house is worth $200,000. Given interest rates are so low, you draw another $50,000 against the house to buy a Hummer and holiday in Cancun. This simplistically encapsulates the original perpetrator of this crisis – a consumer who finances overconsumption by way of debt.

So long as rates remain low, mortgage-holders retain their jobs, and property values don’t reverse significantly, everything remains fine.

Any self-respecting banker would see how lucrative this picture is: low interest rates and an economy humming along. Naturally, they took advantage by tapping the demand for money – lending out aggressively, and to high-risk customers. They were then able to ingeniously ‘securitise’ (pool together) all these loans and sell them off in tranches with different levels of risk and return.

Here’s the premise: if I lend $1,000 to one person, there’s a disproportionate risk they won’t be able to pay me back. But, if I lend $1 to 1,000 different people, there is much less of a chance I’ll lose my $1,000. By packaging a thousand loans together, risk is diversified, and the pool can be sliced and diced in such a way as to create investments with different levels of risk/return. For example, let’s say we take 1,000 loans, package them together and create a few different securities:

  1. Low risk; having first rights (i.e. low risk) to loan cash flows, carrying a low return
  2. Medium risk; having rights to cash flows after the ‘low’ securityholders are paid, carrying a higher return
  3. High risk; having rights to cash flows after ‘low’ and ‘medium’ securityholders are paid, carrying a very high return

Banks created these products, called ‘mortgage-backed securities’ and on-sold them to investment funds, absolving themselves from carrying risky loans on their balance sheets, and taking a healthy profit margin along the way.

The popularity of these mortgage-backed securities and their derivatives spread like wildfire, hundreds of billions of dollars of spore caught in the winds of a global system, finding their way to balance sheets of financial and investment institutions worldwide. For quite some time, the ploy worked. Investors received the promised returns from their securities, and securitisation would’ve appeared a compelling proposition for all parties involved.

Then, the spores started spawning rather unsightly toadstools.  The low ‘teaser’ rates on these loans began to revert to much higher levels. Suddenly, a lot of people couldn’t afford their loan repayments and defaulted. Banks repossessed mortgaged houses and large volumes of foreclosure sales began to hit the market. As the logic of supply and demand dictates, when supply increases without a commensurate increase in demand to absorb the surplus, prices must fall, and that is exactly what happened.

A vicious cycle began as the value of the assets pledged as security for these loans fell, resulting in negative equity and loans being called in. Financial institutions ended up with skyrocketing levels of bad loans, which resulted in reduced capacity to lend (capital adequacy is put under pressure by bad loans) and higher spreads where they did choose to lend. With the cost of debt blowing out, companies were forced to curtail investment and cut costs, meaning ‘restructuring’ and lay-offs. Higher unemployment means less people with income to spend, which lowers consumption, reducing company revenues squeezing profits, thus providing further impetus for companies to lay-off staff, and the cycle begins again.

We can thank globalisation for the worldwide diffusion of the crisis. Though the core subprime problem was isolated to the United States, because of the interconnectivity of the global financial system and the fact the infection occurred at the centre, transmission was almost inevitable.

Since late 2007, the global economy has deteriorated markedly, we have seen asset markets crash, multi-billion-dollar bankruptcies, banks nationalised, the collapse of Latvia, escalating geopolitical tension, and perhaps most significantly, a wholesale destruction of confidence.

Books have been written on the topic, but in a rudimentary nutshell, that is the anatomy of the present mess.

~

The Social Consciousness

Whilst an economic system may have its foundations in rationality (efficient allocation of resources, maximisation of output et cetera), its participants are emotive. Confidence, ergo, impels the economic system. It is a nebulous concept of affective state and expectations, the sentiment heralding action.

Though the very concept of a social consciousness may seem far-fetched and somewhat frivolous, I maintain it does exist. The social consciousness is what elects governments, sets trends, defines issues and determines the developmental path of humanity. It is emotionally driven, ruled by sentiment and characterised by myopia, suggestibility, narrow-mindedness and a propensity to herd.

History has proven it is the single most influential force on this planet, more powerful than any army, and capable of inflicting destruction greater than that of a nuclear bomb. Effectively, if you control the social consciousness, you are God, and this is precisely why the institution of The Vatican wields such awesome power. As a financial enterprise, the Catholic Church is worth more than General Electric.

The aforementioned wholesale destruction of confidence is akin to a disease afflicting the social consciousness: escalating depression on a societal level. A normal session with a Psychologist for clinical depression would involve an exploration which attempts to find and address its underlying causes. Action taken on the ‘financial crisis’ to date however, amounts to prescribing antidepressants, without endeavour to interrogate and assail the root cause of this crisis.

To the underlying problem, money (be it fiscal stimulus or bailout packages) is not an enduring solution. Humanity’s inherent selfish and comorbid materialistic nature is only validated further.

Extrapolated Optimism

Fundamentally, greed is the underlying problem, and greed has driven the risk-taking, morally hazardous behaviour which led to the Smackdown’s opening act, the Sub-prime crisis. Recall that one of the philosophical pillars supporting securitisation was reliance upon the continued increase in house prices – an example of what I term ‘Extrapolated Optimism.’ A lot of smart people got sucked into this, and one could argue greedy, spivvy Wall Street bankers are to blame.

Could it be so simple an explanation as a few ‘smart’ people doing dumb, morally hazardous things? That being the case, I’d be able to put on my latex Jim Cramer mask and lament that we wouldn’t be in quite such a predicament if the people behind the wheel had their fingers on the pulse as opposed to up their arses.

Alas, it is not that simple. Blame is more appropriately apportioned across broader society.

Under economic prosperity, today is bright, and we project this brightness into the future, to tomorrow. We thank and act under the misguided assumption we’re on an ever-increasing tangent, spending like there’s no tomorrow, and financing hedonistic lifestyles which (supposedly) won’t be a problem repaying due to the perceived perpetually escalating uptrend. In short, the mindset is that we can live for the moment because the future will take care of itself. Contingency for a rainy day isn’t given so much as a cursory thought when all we can see are clear blue skies. People don’t seem to consider “oh hell, not even Che Guevara can save us now” type outcomes.

As useful as optimism is, it should never be favoured at the expense of realism. Much of my theory concerns the ability to project thinking forward, look around the upcoming corner rather than the short span of road immediately in front. Optimistic extrapolation is myopic, and as mentioned in a prior piece entitled ‘Perspective,’ myopia is incredibly dangerous.

Planning as a natural phenomenon is nothing new. Squirrels have hoarded acorns for the winter ever since…well…ever since there were squirrels. Self sufficiency is an imperative survival trait unless you intend on living at home with your parents for the rest of your life.

To the extent people believe things will take care of themselves and do not consider, plan, and make contingencies for worst case scenarios, then there is a calamitous accident waiting to happen, the likes of which we are now seeing transpire, and the pain is real. People are losing their jobs, their homes, and the flow-on social consequences are nothing short of disturbing.

Admittedly, there is an element of Schadenfreude on my part for a sense of poetic justice in seeing essentially dumb people who made obscene amounts of money on the back of unskilled momentum investing getting hit with margin calls. Kind of like not feeling any pity or sympathy for the little rich kid who wraps his parentally-funded Porsche around an electricity pole whilst speeding around showing off.

On the rare occasions I watch the news; I witness stories of both genuine hardship and consequences of ignorance. Whilst I feel empathy toward the former, I laugh derisively at the latter.

The Media

Whilst on the topic of the media, it is important to draw a linkage to their role in the social consciousness. Having long held the mantle as the institution most capable of and active in influencing the social consciousness, the media wield incomprehensible latent power, latent because it is currently underutilised.

Paradoxically, we elect governments, yet are suspicious of politicians. Any smart politician knows they can overcome this suspicion by manipulating the media. Judging from the extent and efficacy of the Nazi Propaganda (literally advertising in Spanish) campaign, Hitler (or at least his marketing machine) would have understood this quite well.

At this juncture I repeat: if you control the social consciousness, you are God. The media possesses this power to a degree through pervasive reach and persuasive influence.  It can bring any government or corporation to its knees because it has the means to push information to billions of people through a path of minimal resistance. Forget Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – these days, people hear the Gospel as taken from the book of Oprah.

~

The Australian media have personified the recession, and one evening whilst channel flicking I encounter a ‘special presentation’ on Channel 7 entitled ‘Beating The Recession.’ Perhaps if I wasn’t so concentrated on fervently flipping through the yellow pages for a reasonably-priced contract killer, I’d see the value in David Koch telling me that I could save $10 a day by bringing a packed lunch to work, which is $50 a week, $200 a month, and $2,400 a year. Whoever knew basic arithmetic could give us such explosive insights? Or are people really that dumb?

The Solution

Personally, I was intrigued by the programme in that a recession is not an enemy that can be fought, being both formless and polymorphic, and yet the media chose to personify it as a corporeal opponent we could spar with. Second to that, the futility of ‘fighting’ a recession lies with the fact that the action of fighting actually strengthens the recession, and ensnares us deeper in the more, in much the way struggling in quicksand makes one sink faster. In terms of a solution to a house on fire, their suggestion was more accelerant than retardant.

Real Gross Domestic Product, interchangeable with aggregate demand is a function of consumer spending, governments spending, and net exports. If a consumer believes he can fight the recession by reducing his spending, then he is sorely mistaken. By saving, he is actually contributing to economic contraction. An increasing in savings is commensurate with a decrease in spending. Due to the linkage between output, income and spending, when one plane of this triangle is affected, all are.

Keynesian economics suggests the role of government is to act in a countercyclical manner, that is to say, when the economy is flourishing, the government runs surpluses and is a net saver, taking money out of the system. By contrast, when times are difficult and the economy is contracting, the government spends more, running deficits, pumps more money into the system and becomes a net borrower. The underlying logic here is that the government can manage its spending such that it ‘flattens’ out the economic cycle, smoothing out the peaks and troughs.

Digressing to a small aside on the varieties of government spending, I will now explain why cash handouts are bad. They encourage spending, but they are not an efficient way of stimulating aggregate demand because a proportion of the handouts are saved by consumers, diluting the effect. Contrast this with the government undertaking capital expenditure on infrastructure projects, which is direct demand. It mobilises labour and creates longer term structural benefits (logistics) for an economy. If you’re going to spend money, you should logically spend it where you’re going to get the most bang for your buck.

~

In the context of the Smackdown, we were faced with a binary decision: either spend to prop the system up or allow it to collapse. In previous recessions of lower severity, Governments could have sat on their hands and the economies would have eventually corrected (though the recoveries would have been considerably protracted).

This time, there is no choice because the financial system itself is being called into question and social stability depends on the solvency of banking institutions. The moment fear takes hold that a bank may become insolvent, all its depositors seek to withdraw their funds; concerned the bank may not be able to honour them. Banks work be lending money out long term (think 25 year home loans and 3 year corporate facilities) and financing these using short term borrowings (term deposits and on-demand savings accounts). A bank holds a certain amount of capital in reserve to ensure it always has enough liquid cash to meet depositors withdrawals, without having to liquidate its assets (i.e. call in loans). If a critical mass of people withdrawal substantial amounts of money at the same time, this ‘safety buffer’ of capital quickly disappears and the bank has no way of meeting withdrawal requests because it runs out of money. Either the government must step in to provide liquidity or the bank must freeze deposits. The latter option creates civil unrest, which can quickly descend to social instability and anarchy if it occurs on a wholesale level. What do you do if you can’t get money out of the bank to buy food? Exactly.

So, whilst it makes little sense that cowboy Investment Banks on Wall Street should be rescued, after years of making supernormal profits on what is essentially gambling with financial derivatives, realistically, there was no choice in the matter. Running the printing presses and pumping liquidity into the system is dangerous for reasons I will later touch upon, but allowing the gears of the credit system to grind to a halt is terminal.

Prognosis

To its credit, humanity is amazingly flexible in that it tends toward finding a solution for every crisis. Whilst these solutions may create problems of their own, in general, they do break the crisis. The present crisis will be solved, but it will only delay the inevitable.

This may well be the point where capitalism collapses upon itself. Printing more money doesn’t really solve the problem – reflationary policy merely sets the stage for the mother of all crashes. Money is chasing limited resources. Money has value because it is scarce. More money in the system comes at the expense of the existing stock of money. If there are ten dollars in the economy, one incremental dollar devalues an existing dollar by 9.1%. The total value of money, in aggregate, does not change. Prices merely adjust upward (inflation) to reflect the reduced purchasing power of money.

What we are seeing now are the beginnings of a massive intergenerational burden transfer which is criminal in nature. To save current generations from their own mistakes, future generations will bear the cost by way of higher taxes and interest rates for years to come. The system should have been purged properly. I pay enough tax already and do not see why I should have to finance an economic bailout. Were I to personify with brutal cold reason, I would liken it to expending resources on a sick murderer in hospital. It can’t be justified unless you believe murderers don’t deserve to die. But the value judgement on who deserves to be saved is not the key issue here; economic policy is a pacifying band-aid solution that does not involve revolutionary ideological change.

The integral matter are the premises upon which the social consciousness, or ‘ether’ rests. They are by and large material in nature. Insofar as the world’s present ‘situation’ goes, I can gauge the ether, every morning on the train, walking the city streets, and through the course of interaction. What I see is a society faced with material uncertainty. Is my job safe? When will the market turn? Will I get the government handout?

How I read the ‘ether’ is that adversity, instability and uncertainty necessitate an increase in the general level of anxiety, which has first order manifestation, and incites second order effects such as heavier need and hence inclination toward escapism, alcohol and entertainment being the two chief outlets.

Our world would work very differently if the ether were premised on spiritual rather than material considerations, if people resorted to the pursuit of understanding rather than escapism when adversity transpired, if perspective were broad rather than narrow, if the mindset were co-operative rather than competitive.

We are presented with a unique opportunity, the old illusion is weakening perceptibly and the fairytale is disintegrating. Society finds itself at a turning point where the inertia and momentum of consumerism have taken a considerable hit. From this point there can only be two outcomes, a reversion or a revolution.

Do we rise to the challenge? Will we learn from our mistakes? Or will we come out of this none the wiser and go back to our old ways? The opportunity involves rebasing the entire superstructure and replacing the maximisation imperative with an adequacy one, and redrawing lines such that ‘fulfilment’ is anchored to something more meaningful than wealth and status. ‘Awakening’ and ‘Enlightenment’ are the functional elements of such a revolution.

Granted it is still early days, I will nevertheless stick my neck out and speculate that we will see the ultimate or penultimate round of band-aid solutions, as key participants scramble to plug the holes and keep the ship afloat. There will be a period where concern for the hull’s integrity cause people to sail more prudently, and this will last so long as the balance of power persists in fear’s favour. Eventually, a point will come where the reckless activities of greed will again ensue, although in a way which does not seem reckless at the time. Imbalances will return, and their correction will be heralded by a catastrophe of unfathomable proportions. When all the band-aid options have been exhausted, the only way out will be an actual purging of bad blood; and it will be some bloodletting. What I do not care to speculate over is whether the blood loss will be survivable.

The shock magnitude of the Smackdown would suggest people will learn, but the level of delusion advocates otherwise: learning may not occur in earnest unless the consequences of this crisis are allowed unmitigated impact, the full force of which will shatter the delusion and pave the way for a clearer understanding to develop.

Under fatalistic rationale, I do not hold out in the hope of this happening in the course of my lifetime. Adversity is a more competent teacher than prosperity, and when you reduce adversity, the cost is complacency. People must learn the hard way, it is an inescapable reality. Prior to the Smackdown, we were beginning to make progress – emissions trading and what appeared to be a fledgling genuine interest in social issues. The moment the economy turned sour, these things became a distant sideshow. If you need proof of what matters to people, look no further.

The sun sets, but will a new day dawn?

I don’t know.

Signal v. Noise

In my previous discourse, much of the culpability for the failure of systems was attributed to ignorance.  As a phenomenon, ignorance is not new. It is however, becoming increasingly pervasive with each passing generation. Whilst it may appear that successive generations are increasingly intelligent, this is a common misconception. Generation Y may be more technologically adept than Generation X, it may have more street-smarts, it may learn and grow up faster, but it is still more ignorant.

Among the causes underpinning escalating ignorance is a broad-based deterioration in the Signal to Noise Ratio (SNR). This analysis will render the SNR concept in a socio-psychological context and seek to illustrate how it operates in contemporary society.

smog_x2

The Signal to Noise Ratio

Good and evil, love and hate, hope and despair, charming and tedious. Life is full of illustrious dichotomies. One such dichotomy; signal and noise, is all too often overlooked. In so many facets of living, stimulus is absolutely divisible on the criterion of value. There are only two states in this regard: valuable/signal and worthless/noise.

Borrowed from the sphere of engineering, the Signal to Noise Ratio defines the strength of sought audio against other background sound and interference. Couched in simpler terms, the useful versus the useless. Engineering defines the SNR as the power quotient of signal against noise:

snr

Imagine you’re standing at a crowded bar, your phone rings, and you pick it up. The voice on the other end is the signal; the chatter going on in the background is the noise. In this scenario, it is possible to quantify the SNR by comparing the volume of the voice on the phone to that of the background drone; which is to say the SNR (in an audio context) is objective because a hard number can be placed on it. If the background noise is twice as loud as the phone voice, the SNR is 0.5.

A Humanistic Definition

Through my years in observational psychology, when I am not out and about harvesting souls, I spend a great deal of time reflecting upon and distilling what I’ve learned. The most profound discovery has always been particularly evasive: until recently, at the tip of my tongue. It struck me one day whilst trawling through some amusing classifieds: signal versus noise. Quite simply, life is a constant struggle to separate the two. Fulfilment is a beacon far out on the horizon, and life, the journey seeking it. It is a treacherous undertaking. The signal guides us to our objective, the noise leads us astray.

The aforementioned SNR apparatus is relevant on a plane much broader than spectrums of radio/audio waves. It also lends itself to the appraisal of signal and noise across humanistic domains: interaction, environmental stimulus, life, and the world in general. 

To apply the framework, we first need to distinguish between signal and noise. The nature of signal is to provide something intelligible that is of practical use: the meaning is inherent in the word. Signal. Signify. Significant. A signal is the precursor to action. Noise, by contrast, has zero value; it is effectively hollow stimulus that serves only to obstruct cognitive channels, create confusion, and distract us from what’s important. It is the magnet held to the compass.

Though we may not be cognisant of the fact, throughout the course of each day, we are constantly being bombarded with stimulus: words, images, sounds, people. Some of this stimulus we decide to take in, the rest we disregard. What we take in influences our thoughts, feelings and actions. It logically follows that our task is to optimise what we absorb such that signal is maximised, and noise minimised.

~

Practical Anecdotes of SNR

Each day I receive some 100 emails. Being generous, 10% of these are what could be termed ‘signal.’ Within each of those emails, the signal or message is within 10% of the words. Therefore, 99% of the information I am exposed to is utterly useless drivel designed to pad a quota of page numbers.

Intriguingly, people tend to get annoyed when they open their email clients and are greeted with such ‘spam,’ the dozens of unsolicited messages offering everything from cheap pharmaceuticals to promised riches from a dethroned African Monarch if you aid his return as sovereign.

Evidently, the colloquial ‘spam’ is merely an electronic incarnation of noise. Yet whilst electronic spam generates much disdain and frustration; real spam – the noise we are bombarded with daily, does not seem to even register. We are routinely pelted with large hunks of processed meat. This spamming, or projection of noise, is an occupational hazard of living in a modern society. Telemarketing calls, junk mail, television commercials, billboards – and that’s just the media.

Though Rupert Murdoch is a justifiable whipping boy for noise pollution, People in a general sense are the source of a much more insidious form of spamming. Insidious precisely because it has a human face and occurs unconsciously. What I am referring to is the noise innate in human interaction. By and large, communication between people is comprised largely of noise. Whether it is from ulterior motive, falseness, or ingratiation, noise is a distinct element of human communication and seldom are our interactions innocent of subtext and pretence.

Be it building business rapport or courting a potential partner, the signal is most always encased in a thick layer of nonsensical debris which serves no purpose whatever. Alfred and Wallace are looking at a business transaction that will benefit them both. In an ideal world, they would meet, discuss the terms with cold reason, and close the transaction if they agree. Neither should have to pretend to care for the other in any way, nor should either man have to adapt his character to be agreeable to the other. Banter about sport over consecutive long boozy lunches has no bearing on the economics of the transaction.

Whilst the importance of developing relationships cannot be denied, it should not come at the cost of propagating exorbitant amounts of noise. Pleasantries for the purpose of engagement waste words. Endless streams of arbitrary chitchat have no significance. Pretending to care is insulting. Some weeks ago, I (and my family, as it were) were wished a ‘Merry Christmas’ by numerous people.

Such a greeting often leads to perceiving that the person offering the salutation is nice, friendly and cares. The well wishers didn’t seem to recognise that assuming the degree of personal familiarity such a salutation entails is insolent. To wish well upon a person’s relations, it usually helps to at least have met them. Strong enough shields deflect the salutation as the noise of someone acting on autopilot, uttering the statement without the sincerity of truly meaning it. Alternatively, they are attempting to develop rapport by pretending to care.

That is the essence of interpersonal noise. The next time you have a conversation at work or on the street, pay attention to what is said and estimate how much of it actually held real meaning versus how much could is essentially noise. I despise most conversation, not so much because I am on the receiving end of noise, because I can filter, but because I am obliged to return in kind.

~

The proliferation of noise cannot be analysed agnostic of causality. It has as much to do with diminished processing/filtering capacity as the level of environmental noise itself.

I speculate that noise is so pervasive because of limited and diminishing processing and filtering capacity. Where the mind is spoon-fed messages directly through sensory channels (video, audio and the like), it effectively relegates then need to process and critically analyse, which significantly impedes one’s ability to isolate the signal from background noise. Therein, it is useful to consider an extension to the SNR formula, in the form of effective SNR.

Effective SNR

From the earlier illustration, we know engineering SNR is objective, observable and can be measured directly. Humanistic SNR however, does not lend itself to this luxury of simplicity. Whilst the SNR in the world around us may have some absolute magnitude, it is not relevant because effective SNR (what we actually absorb) is dictated by other factors, in much the same way as radiation exposure. We all live under the same sun, but effective exposure depends on such things as the level of melatonin in the skin, clothing and sunscreen.

Drawing on our earlier portrayal of the SNR as ‘signal power’ versus ‘noise power,’ we can adapt the formula to instead show ‘effective SNR,’ and illustrate why it necessarily differs between individuals.

snre

I have introduced two modifiers, Psi and Omega, to denote tuner-processor and shield strength respectively. Our new formula depicts signal power being moderated by tuner-processor strength (a positive relationship), and noise power being moderated by shield strength (an inverse relationship). The former involves receptivity and sensitivity to signal, the latter concerns ability to filter and block noise. They act in concert to either dilute or concentrate the amount of signal we absorb relative to noise.

Metaphorically, life is like a watered down pot of chicken soup. Our objective is to enhance the flavour. In this regard, we can evaporate water by boiling, or add more stock cubes.

~

Tuner-Processor

Signal perception is handled by two distinct yet related components that moderate the power of the signal we receive. Collectively, they work on the same principle as a sniffer dog trained to detect drugs. The tuner picks up the signal, and the processor enhances it.

It is a two-step circuit. First, we must tune into the signal, and achieving this presupposes an understanding of what the signal actually is, what frequency to tune to. For example, I know that I need to tune to 106.7 Megahertz if I want to catch PBS broadcasting Jazz on Sunday afternoon. In a conversation, there will be certain pertinent things they say that reveal insights into a person’s character, but unless you know what to look for, and are duly attuned, you will miss them. This calibration, or sensitivity to the signal, is a learned aptitude.

Perceived quality of reception is reliant on both tuning aptitude and capacity to interpret it. Having tuned in to the signal, there is then the matter of refining it. Signals do not always resonate in stereoscopic glory, and the further one is from the source, the weaker the strength of the signal.  The processor is charged with the task of concentrating/interpreting the signal, and is the interface that provides for value to be extracted from abstraction.

I could be listening to a broadcast of the most poetic of ballads, but if I do not understand the language in which it is harmonised, I will extract no signal. Our ability to process and interpret is akin to understanding the meaning of the signal. Again, this aptitude is learned by observation, reflection and experience.

A skull and crossbones means danger – it is something we learn early on. The major difference between Signal processing and interpreting a symbol is that the meaning ‘carried’ by a signal (as opposed to a symbol) is volatile. Chances are, most people would understand the negative symbolism of a skull and crossbones, and interpret it as such. However, to the extent process of interpretation is subjective and based on individual bias and heuristic; the meaning in a signal will be disparate and subjective across individuals, even in cases where that meaning is rigid.

We’d expect that as we grow, the tuner-processor develops, learns and evolves to the point where it meaningfully enhances effective signal power. However, if we invoke parity between signal and meaning (in life), then negative effective SNR becomes a potential reality. Scientifically, a negative SNR is impossible because the signal has an absolute number, and cannot be less than zero. Humanistic SNR need not adhere to this rule because signal is loaded/normative and can take a sign: positive or negative.

Demented tuner-processor function lends credence to this speculation.  In many ways, life is like a word-find. Among the confusing muddle of alphabet, meanings are hidden. Precious few strain themselves to discover those difficult, elusive words they know lurk somewhere among the jumble. The countervailing inclination with general society is that it looks at the word-find, and chooses to make up its own words based on arbitrary letters in the puzzle.

Granted the analogy is value, it is almost as if people look at the puzzle, write it off as too difficult, and instead choose to create meaning where it does not exist. With respect to SNR analysis, this is equivalent to taking the noise and interpreting it as signal – a negative signal, fashioned from noise.

Shields

Being able to recognise and hone in on the signal is only half the battle. Shields are charged with the task of blocking noise, and the denominator effect on the SNR is profound.

Shields are primarily heuristics or learned rules of thumb which we subconsciously employ to filter any kind of stimulus. For example, let’s say Melissa, a highly confident ‘go-getter’ walks into a bar, her mind set upon finding a ‘quality’ partner with long-term potential, and for argument’s sake, intelligence and financial stability.  As she casts her eye over the diverse crowd, there are all manner of male specimens. She is seeking a signal but must filter noise to better her chances at approaching the ‘right’ type of fellow. Automatically, she will invoke heuristic shields that immediately eliminate the clan wearing wife-beaters and swearing like drunken sailors, and perhaps the pink-shirt brigade who appear to be outfitted by Roger David. In doing so, she has improved effective SNR by filtering out a proportion of the (unsought) noise.

In many situations, internal heuristic shields can also be supplemented, or replaced by external shields, which can be highly practical as we go about trying to filter noise and isolate the signal or what we’re after.

Returning to the theme of human filtering, it is now very easy accomplish Melissa’s assignment by using an online dating service. To avoid the hassle, convention and expense of trawling at licensed drinking venues, I can simply set practical parameters, and get a computer to ‘screen’ for me. Given the potential pool (tens of thousands) is significantly larger than Melissa’s bar, the filters must necessarily be more exacting. I can say I am after a woman, aged between 20 and 26, who lives in a 20km radius, and doesn’t smoke or like to ‘party hard.’ Inputting these simple criteria will narrow the field by a factor of ten or more.

However, I am left with an odd thousand potential candidates from which to isolate a signal. The external/artificial shield has done most of the work for me, blocking 90% of the noise. It is now up to my heuristic shields to assist in filtering more noise and distilling the signal.

Taking it a step further, I append two additional criteria that a computer cannot truly validate: intelligence and validation which isn’t based on physical appearance. The heuristic shields are fired up, and they cause me to overlook all taglines that read like text messages or contain any of the following words: “princess,” “chick”, “hot”, “clubbing”. They also discount headshots where the subject is excessively made up, and those of manufactured pose which are taken with the camera at an elevated angle. Again, this narrows the field by a factor greater than 10.

Of the hundred or so remaining women the field has been narrowed to, there is now a substantially higher effective SNR – the result of using shields as filters to block out much of the noise. The outcome is evidently far superior to the result I would’ve got had I not used shields – I am that much less likely to ask a self-obsessed illiterate airhead out to dinner.

Though external or artificial shields are useful, they should be used sceptically and can never be relied upon in place of actual cognition. With life’s increasing demands on the individual and overload-inducing levels of stimulus, people are beginning to rely too heavily upon external and artificial filtering. This can be as innocent as letting Sam Kekovitch decide what you’ll eat on Australia day (lamb: you know it makes sense), or as sinister as allowing the government’s judgements of what’s good for the country to commandeer your own.

For the reasons outlined above, I posit that we have gradually built a dependence of external shields to filter noise, in many cases putting them above our own reason and judgement (our internal shields).

There are a couple of forces at work here. Firstly, it is a truism with the proverbial shield that there is only so much damage it can withstand before it degrades. In a sense, our shields take energy to maintain. Life is not easy, and it takes considerable effort to process the plethora of stimulus we’re exposed to daily, much less make sense of it. When shields are draining power at a rate faster than they can recharge, we get a decay in shield integrity. Fighting a battle and being pummelled by successive waves of ranged projectile – there isn’t enough time to make repairs. Because, we don’t need to worry about repairing/recharging them ourselves, external shields tend to be an enticing option.

Further, the substitution toward external shields has been encouraged by the advent and rise of television and the internet, conduits of mass media. Al Gore describes a similar phenomenon in The Assault on Reason whereby the usurping of traditional printed media by the medium of television has all but destroyed the intermediate step of critical reasoning in the processing and uptake of information. Imagery must be fabricated by the mind when reading words from a page, scenes must be created, life breathed into the typeface. This utilisation of internal shields is a mentally intensive process, whereby absorbing information from the television requires negligible cognitive effort, and the logic circuit-breaker is bypassed.

~

The Persistence of Noise

Despite logic admonishing us to reject noise, there is an overwhelming tendency to tolerate, accept and even seek it. With a view to understanding why this occurs, we look to the environmental conditions that allow noise to prosper.

On first principles, noise persists out of motive. So long as there is something to be gained from purveying noise, whether that be profit or influence, it will continue ad infinitum. If people did not react to or absorb noise, producing it would become uneconomic, and we would witness a gradual extinction. However, the reality is that noise is absorbed. As to why, ignorance is an elegant rationalisation, but it isn’t the whole story.

Silence is characterised by the absence of noise. Take noise out of the equation, and when there is no signal, you are confronted with a chilling silence. Silence has two sides: a positive, carrying connotations of peace, and tranquillity, and a negative, carrying connotations of foreboding and death.

Insofar as we live in a world of constant stimulation, we have not adequately learned to embrace silence. When we encounter it, we think there is something wrong and become uncomfortable. It happens in conversations:  in a long silence, someone will feel compelled to speak (often meaninglessly) to break that silence. Imagine spending an evening alone in a big, empty house, it is utterly silent. You’d feel lonely. But if there were sounds of cars going by and people speaking outside, or if you put some music on, you’d feel less alone.

Noise can be a comforting distraction, filling the void left when you cannot intercept a signal. By this reasoning, noise is embraced because the alternative silence provokes anxiety.

Differing mind-sets define our attitude toward noise. First, there is a minority in those who have learned to appreciate and value silence, who typically have a replete abhorrence for noise. Second, there is a double majority comprising a group who float obliviously in the noise, like a babies in the womb, and another group who have some sense they’re drowning but are not fully cognisant of it.

These three groups can be classified as noise-avoiding, noise-seeking, and noise-drifting respectively. The avoiders have a conscious aversion to noise. The seekers absorb it in blissful ignorance. The drifters absorb it but experience cognitive dissonance. Noise persists because the critical mass of seekers and drifters give cause for its existence.

Conclusion

Whilst I’d like to think I’m impervious to noise, in both projection and absorption, the reality is far from it. I, like most everyone else (bar perhaps the Dalai Lama) am caught in the noise. I have to deal with it every day. I live in noise, and on days where I cannot extract a signal, I know I am wasting my life.

For most, this is a cruel synchronal paradox. With respect to spatial considerations, the trend toward urbanisation, and resultant higher concentrations of people create fertile ground from which higher gross noise issues. Just be being part of society, you subject yourself to ever increasing levels of noise.

The paradox is that population density increases the bandwidth of both signal and noise simultaneously, and, just as precious stones lie buried in dirt, the signal is surrounded by the noise. They are concurrent.

A few evenings ago, I was having a conversation on this very topic. In some respects, I am quite taken by the idea of removing myself from society in order to free my mind from having to process noise, but on the flipside, I will also be severely limiting my exposure to signal potentiality – the random (or not so random) events and encounters that occur, from which I am able to extract signal. It is this notion that allows one to reconcile living in toxicity – for the rare breaths of fresh air which are that much more intense precisely because of the engulfing pollution.

System

 I will preface this analysis with a bold conjecture:

Society needs the shit kicked out of it. There may not be much left afterward.

A bold conjecture, aimed squarely at broad-based ignorance. Ignorance to the reality of living in captivity. Ignorance to a world at the mercy of systems. Ignorance to freedom being an illusion, and the inability to concede it.

I write under the assertion of my own ignorance; knowing that I can speculate and postulate until I go blue in the face, but in the end, I can’t actually prove anything. The only thing I can say with absolute certainty is that I will be dead at some point in the future. Everything else is variable on forces which I either (a) do not, or (b) think I understand. Every word of the hundred thousand I have written to date is presumptuous.

Ruin will accost those whom take their knowledge seriously.

Analytical ammunition is becoming increasingly sparse, so I’m going to use steel-capped boots instead. This piece has been in the pipeline for an excruciatingly long time on account of philosophical constraints. A system can only be objectively analysed from the outside looking in. Living within these frameworks, it is therefore impossible to be objective in my analysis. I have attempted to curb this bias by adopting the perspective of an Architect who designed the systems as opposed to a constituent who is subjected to them. Inferences made herein should be taken as comments made by a reasonably competent speculator who is cognisant of his own speculation.

system-machine 

System Theory

At this point, I will distinguish neutral systems from human systems. Neutral covers such things as the solar system – defined naturally, operating impassively, bounded by and subject to objective physical laws. Human encompasses any system established by humanity whose justification is prompted by a value judgement. This analysis critiques the latter.

A system, defined in the sphere of information technology, is a coagulation of people, procedures, rules, data, hardware and software, structured with some degree of planning, to the end of achieving a goal. Systems allow me to write this entry, requisition information, hold intercontinental conversations in real time and get to work every morning.

Human systems are based on a comparable premise, though they are infinitely more complex lending to emotion, which instigates behavioural effects, arbitrary self-perpetuating outcomes, intricate feedback loops and irrational dysfunction. A simple example that conveys this complexity is human interaction. Hypothetically, I could bump into any one of six point seven billion people at random. Take this across the individuals on this planet, and there are some 44,890,000,000,000,000,000 unique possible permutations. Add hoards of paradoxical procedures into the mix with these six point seven billion volatile ‘components,’ and you have the beginnings of a system your average deity wouldn’t understand.

We often talk of systems, but do we understand their true nature? Neutral systems are a function of the natural order; human systems are attempts to subvert the natural order by artificial substitution. There is nothing inherently ‘wrong’ with the natural order, but for the fact it is amoral. Morality, being a defining characteristic of human existence, is superimposed upon man-made systems to instil validity. Here we have the key to a system’s longevity. So long as a critical mass of agents within a system believes it is ‘right,’ it is self-sustaining. Should there be a large enough revolt against the system, such that agents question its integrity and renounce system behaviour, then it will disintegrate. If tomorrow, everyone decided currency was ridiculous, worthless paper, then the financial system would inevitably collapse. A system persists on the goodwill of those it controls.

The central objective of human systems is just that – to control; although we don’t like the idea of being controlled, so find it more comfortable to couch it as ‘order’ rather than ‘control.’ By definition, the term ‘systematic’ denotes organisation and order, therefore it is implicit from the negative that systems exist to prevent chaos. For surely, if we were left to our own devices, then chaos is the state that would prevail.

Why? Because man is an emotional, irrational creature that is largely unreconciled with his own mortality. At the base level, this necessarily creates motive energy for animal gratification which entails the unbridled pursuit of pleasure, agnostic to peripheral ramifications.

There’s a reason gratuitous sex and violence rake in billions of dollars at theatres. Entertainment, being removed from reality, is not subject to the rules and conventions of real life; which is why almost anything, irrespective of depravity, can be portrayed using the medium. Wanton productions appeal to raw instinct and allow for a diluted vicarious or second-hand experience, and they’re often as close as we can get to fulfilling those animal impulses without negative consequence.

It is fair to say if there was absolutely nothing defining consequences (i.e. not laws, morals, conventions, nor conscience) to prevent you from doing whatever you wished; then, well, you’d do whatever you wished. This is the premise of unrefined humanity and its fundamental flaw. But of course, were the world to operate under such a premise (i.e. absolute, unconstrained freedom) in pure form, it would be utter pandemonium. Can you imagine what the world would be like if the entire human population roamed this planet restrained by nothing save their own instinctive desires?

We solved this problem by developing and implementing systems. Systems control the human premise. By ingeniously creating rules and consequences, defining pleasure, and hence directing energy, the beast of humanity is kept well shackled.

*

The Four Pillars & the Triad of Affliction

Modern civilisation is supported upon four pillars. They are the four central systems which govern humanity:

  • § Political systems, designed to manage power
  • § Economic systems, designed to allocate resources
  • § Legal systems, designed to administer ‘justice’
  • § Social systems, designed to structure behaviour

These abominations didn’t come into existence by happenstance – rather, they were born out of necessity. Systems cannot exist without premises. Strong-form premises, likewise, underpin a strong and enduring system.

The four pillars can be viewed as a global interlocking coping mechanism for humanity’s mortal flaws -collectively, the systems’ premises. In essence, the three comorbid flaws which predicate the need for systems (and from which systems derive sustaining authority) are (1) man’s inherent fear, (2) his ignorance, and (3) his greed.

  • § The policies, processes and punishments enshrined by the legal system serve to mollify fear for both person and property.
  • § The frameworks, relationships, and exchange of the economic system allow greed to be pursued in a more orderly fashion.
  • § The political system mitigates the damage people can inflict upon themselves by replacing divergent and volatile individual ignorance with a synergistically moderated collective ignorance.
  • § The conventions set by the social system are authoritative doctrine -they are the glue that binds the whole superstructure together.

Analysis now moves to depth on each of the four pillars.

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Political Systems:

Politics is the most ineffectual of the systems for reasons of marionette and motive, which rear their heads routinely wherever power is implicated. Given the political system is an ‘umbrella’ system enveloping multiple styles, the critical focus will be on Representative Democracy, because it is held to be the most efficacious political system. An arrow’s worth is measured by the strength of the armour it pierces.

Representative Democracy is often invoked as the solution to the concentration of power in an autocracy, oligarchy or monarchy; under which individual choice is frustrated. Although ‘fairness’ is indeed a foreign concept to such methods of rule, Democracy, the lesser among evils, does not fare much better in that regard. In a conventional two-party system, such as Australia, or the United States, choice is an illusion. It is a binary selection, often between a left-wing and a right-wing political party. All or nothing. Black or white. Two schools of thought, it is a bleak dichotomy. You can’t pick and choose the best policies from across the spectrum of parties. Glaring absurdity exists in such a system. Indeed, objective reality is black and white, but human perception of that reality is not. Relativities are everywhere, yet democracy is founded on absolutes. Republican or Democrat. Conservative or Liberal.

Majority rule, a requirement under most forms of representative democracy, exacerbates the system’s failure. On the one hand, if you do not identify with the majority, you are technically not represented, as the majority forms government and exercises power. On the other hand, contingent upon the strength of the opposition, the majority’s liberty to exercise power is moderated and diluted. In simple terms, it is a lose/lose situation.

Majority rule and binary selection relate specifically to the design of Representative Democracy. Exogenous to design, the real tribulation is with the actors: politicians and constituents.

In the world of representative democracy, a politician is simply a marionette. It is utterly obtuse to assume, even for a moment, that a politician is capable of exercising untainted principle in their role. By virtue of the preselection process, deals are made, promises given, and interests assured.

A politician is a marionette serving all manner of interests outside those presented to the populace. These interests are generally motivated by self-advancement over the ‘greater good.’ It isn’t possible to ascend to the position of a governmental leader without cutting deals and forging alliances in the process. A political party is subject to the same basic hierarchical and political framework that underlies a commercial organisation. You’ll occasionally get a charismatic and inspiring leader, but they do not rise to the top on merit alone. People often forget the game that must be played, and by a country mile, that game is not a clean one. There is no such thing as a straight politician who acts solely on their own ideals and accord. Look backstage and you’ll often find more than a few puppeteers. Generally speaking, politicians are stylised idiots who tend toward following popular opinion to anchor their support. Policy and action are executed on the grounds of what is most popular, rather than what is most right.

Making matters worse is the preposterous tendency people have to make idols of political figures. Every morning on my way to work, I pass a large black and white effigy of Barack Obama plastered on the side of a building. Above it, the inscription “second coming.” That image encapsulates precisely what is frightening about modern politics. Cleary, the prevailing global conditions (worldwide economic fear pandemic) have created a need for a ‘hero’ who’ll save the world from the self-inflicted woe it has plunged itself into. It may come as a newsflash to some, but he’s not Captain Planet, he’s just another man.

Obama Second Coming Poster

Obama Second Coming Poster

Following from this is the disturbing revelation of democracy’s very foundation: ‘power to the people.’ In this case, equity and logic become diametrically opposing forces, and the former is enshrined at the expense of the latter. The benefit is stability – where a system is perceived as fair (i.e. everyone gets one vote), then it is unlikely to be challenged. The cost is the functional failure that arises when the constituency exercising voting power is largely discombobulated and ignorant.

Arguments could be made against this conclusion of a broadly ignorant constituency, but the writing is on the wall. Objective evidence is all around. We do not live in the Athenian age from whenst democracy originated.  Some blasphemous proportion of Australia’s populace, for example, does not know the country has a constitution, much less the purpose it serves. Prior to 2008′s economic mayhem, the key ‘political’ issues of public fixation were interest rates and the price of fuel.

Evidently, the public is largely unconcerned with fundamental real issues which carry profound long term consequences; it prefers to focus narrowly and myopically on where it has a vested interest, and on a selection of peripheral issues that are in vogue. Whether this is the fault of the public or the media is a matter of opinion, but it does not change the fact that debate rages on industrial relations policy and alcohol excise while the insidious effects of Affluenza, moral decay and ignorance are infect a caustic rot upon humanity itself.

Never mind the issue of irreconcilable sovereign pride that will eventually cause another world war if left unchecked, I’m going to vote for whoever saves Moby Dick and decriminalises Marijuana.

The machination of Government is inordinately complex, Diplomatic affairs, social equity, economic stability, subsystem efficacy. It is charged with responsibilities the vast majority of us do not understand with any degree of adequacy. Yet representative democracy apportions power with zero consideration to commonsense and who is best placed to exercise it. I am making a value judgement defensible on grounds of basic reason – just as you don’t get into a car driven by a drunkard, you don’t put power in the hands of the ignorant.

So, were we to evaluate representative democracy against its mandate of managing power in an optimal manner, there is only one assessment: Fail. Democracy is an inefficient system because people are too ignorant to know what’s good for them. Give people rights and they will abuse them. Politicians are marionettes unduly influenced by ulterior causes and motives. Governments instigate change for its own sake, and will ‘fix’ things that aren’t broken, squandering resources for negligible benefit. Power is in the custody of a herd whose subjective mode of perspective is implicitly assumed to be objectively correct.

I daresay the purpose would be better handled by an oligopoly where power was concentrated in the hands of a small group of compassionate masterminds such as a council of enlightened elders who know what they’re doing, than a popular regime with charisma and fashionable policies. I say this because experiential wisdom is not hereditary. Only a person who has made a mistake, and/or has had to live through the consequences of that mistake will possess the necessary experiential wisdom to call a spade a spade should there be a recurrence. Each new temporary installation of a government is like assigning a rookie to a role more befitting of a Commander. The system is run by mavericks.

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Economic Systems:

Before delving into economic systems, a myth must first be dispelled. Money does not make the world go round. What makes the world go round is the motive power of the billions of runners hitting the allegorical treadmill to pursue it.

An economic system’s general mandate is to allocate scarce resources. This is admittedly a textbook definition, but it really is that simple. Resource allocation is the primary function, everything else is secondary.  Money’s existence is accidental, and it is a product of the economic system. Resource allocation is tediously boring on face value, so I will take the more glamorous route by approach it indirectly through the concept of money.

Money is the grand facilitator, for its power as a universal medium for exchange and store of value. In a world where most everything can be bought for a price, money reigns supreme. Not only does it allow us to obtain goods and services we desire, it can ‘purchase’ virtually anything. Bribes can be used to buy freedom, amnesty and power. Information and knowledge can be paid for. Longevity can be prolonged for an outlay, and physical appearance altered. Money can put out a contract kill.

It isn’t hard to see why the majority of us lust after money so passionately – save an antidote to death, it can buy pretty much anything. Thereby, in effect, it replaces 99% of desires with just one. Contemplate that substitution for a moment. Instead of expending time and physical/mental effort on pursuing our every material need and want, we can just chase the dollar. Whoever invented the device of currency is pure genius personified.

Having established that crucial link between money and ‘gratification,’ we can move forward. Metaphorically, if we were to consider the human species donkeys, money would be the carrot, and social isolation is the stick. The presence of an incentivising reward (carrot) and threat of isolation (stick) harmonise, making exertion voluntary, thus mobilising the resource of people (i.e. labour) without the need for forced slavery.

We now have a likeness of a contemporary economic system called ‘Market Capitalism’ where the resources of land, labour, capital and entrepreneurial skill are allocated toward production of goods and services with relative efficiency on the basis of profit/utility maximisation, and the means of production are privately controlled.

As a standalone system existing without recourse to other systems, Market Capitalism would be highly capable (relative to the other options presently available). But in coexistence with a social system underpinned by morals such as ‘fairness,’ Capitalism fails. Recourse to other systems inevitably arise due to externalities and moral hazard, thereby creating a need for intervention.

In any situation where a morally indifferent (or indeed depraved) individual has potential for gain, and the risk of loss is shouldered by someone else; suboptimal and exploitative behaviour will be engaged. Government intervenes through regulation and  legislation in an attempt to assuage this opportunist. It also acts as the executor of social conscience by direct intervention, levying taxes and redistributing resources in defiance of the profit motive. Provisioning of welfare payments and public education are two such examples.

Crossing back to the political system momentarily, the reason my political slant leans toward the right is purely economic. As the situation currently stands, you cannot give precedence to social issues over economic ones. Though this may seem absurd and even sadistic, the underlying logic borders on infallible.

Irrespective how progressive the social policies of a political party, they cannot be implemented optimally in an environment of economic despair. We live in a capitalist system whose lifeblood is prosperity. Sound economic policy is designed to maximise growth and productivity whilst controlling inflationary pressures. It this task is properly managed, profits expand, companies invest, jobs are created, national income rises, the standard of living increases and the government’s gross tax take goes up. More tax means more funds to spend on health, education and redistributative welfare. This analysis will later illustrate the social system’s dependence on a stable economy from a more unconventional angle.

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Returning to critique, the inherent problem is not so much the theories based upon cumulative confirmatory data, but the behaviours they instigate and the actions they underpin. A lot of people thought it was safe to invest in RMBS because residential property prices in the United States have historically observed a structural uptrend. These data points supported the theory that house prices ‘never’ go down, and if they did decline, it would be slight and/or temporary. Failing to question amounts to ignorance, which is unsurprisingly one of the strongest root causes for economic systems’ failure. Sovereign regulation of interest rates is a prime example.

Interest rates are the monetary policy instrument Central Banks uses to control inflation and economic activity. When spending is excessive, it results in inflation (specifically, demand-pull), which can wreak havoc (Zimbabwe). As inflationary pressures mount, the Central Bank seeks to control them by raising the rate, hence reducing the supply of cash in the financial system as the commercial banks park more money in the now higher-yielding Government securities, which are risk-free, theoretically backed by the government’s power to tax.

However, in an environment of rising interest rates, the financial burden on indebted individuals increases, and belts must be tightened, which often means a downward adjustment to material living standards. The media and the populace cry foul, and the short-term social ramifications create a political problem for the government. Because a layperson reacts negatively and blames the government when interest rates rise, the government’s ability to use this instrument as swift and decisive dampener is hindered by politics. It is not a popular policy. To the extent government intervention that is supposed to plug the economic system’s holes is driven by short-term political motivation, interventions will never address problems in the most optimal manner. Ignorance is inherent from the inability to acknowledge that short term pain is a necessary evil to maintain stability in the long run, which ultimately has a far greater bearing on quality of life.

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Legal Systems:

Lending to my dearth of inspiration on the legal system, I credit many of these thoughts to a rainy afternoon café conversation with Ava, my charming muse.

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Purportedly, the legal system exists to protect individual liberties, administer justice, and punish where necessary. What those liberties are, how justice is defined, and both what constitutes ‘fair’ punishment and what warrants it are all encircled by a fugue of subjectivity.

The tradition, procedure, verbosity, formalities and institutions of law are, at their crux, a human construct to give us illusory confidence we understand something which we, in reality, cannot. This is the central premise upon which I base my argument that the legal system is a (very bad) joke.

Issue must also be taken with the legal system because extortion runs rife, because  litigation is increasingly used as a weapon, because  innocent defendants can be ordered to pay compensation for damage that arose from the litigant’s own stupidity, because of the blatant inconsistency and misalignment between law and justice, and the list goes on. Fundamentally, the body of law and the mechanisms that overlay its application are completely unreflective of impartial justice. To understand why this is so, we need to delve into the intricacies of the system.

Firstly, laws themselves are often distorted, some to the point where their spirit is negative justice. A prime example is progressive taxation; a law which imposes greater proportionate penalty upon advancement and progress. Such a regulation is the epitome of negative justice. The mafia leaves you alone if you’re a small fish, but the more successful you are, the bigger a slice of your take they’ll racketeer.

Second, we have the troublesome nature of precedent. As a modus operandi, precedent is effectively a judge hanging his or her hat on a historical judgement. Were I to be ruling on a case, and had an instinctive leaning to one side, chances are the precedent case I base my judgement on will be subconsciously influenced by that initial prejudice. In a scenario where there are two opposing precedents with differing outcomes, generally subjective interpretation means either can be rationalised. Thus, although it may appear an impartial judgement has been made on the strength of a comparable precedent, but in reality, it is a matter of skewed selection: if I look hard enough at a cloud, I can make out any number of different animals. The second angle of precedent is that it reduces efficacy and removes a critical element of accountability by implicitly absolving the judge of responsibility for their decision. Logically, we take greater care walking an uncharted path than a well-tread one for which we have a map.

With respect to the legal system’s fatal flaw – it is a fusing of hubris and illusory understanding. For the purpose of this exercise, we step back and assess why a legal system exists. There are two relevant facets, that of law and order, and that of justice. Justice entails fairness, but fairness eludes definition without a moral yardstick to measure it by.        We do not possess a yardstick unless you invoke some very strong assumptions asserting validity of religion or ethical idealism. It follows that objective morality is intrinsically paradoxical. Nowhere in the legal system is this fact acknowledged. Rather, the system is founded upon an explicit denial of this truth.

At best, we can cautiously define morality as allowing man to pursue his desires freely, subject to not harming another man or otherwise inhibiting another’s pursuit. Evidently even this simple definition is a stretch because it requires a line to be drawn to distinguish what constitutes harm. If we cannot so much as lean on this basic notion, How can we depend on those capriciously concocted complex cocktails of morality that the legal system promulgates?

Judiciary is too far displaced from reality, negatively affecting the sensibility of their reasoning, interpretation, and thus their judgements. This is where the issue of speciality and the social system’s definition of roles cross paths with the legal system. Insofar as a Judge is a specialist who is validated upon that specialisation, he or she drapes themselves with a cape of ethical supremacy.

At the core, the legal system and its practitioners take themselves too seriously, which leads to a cognitive bias of colossal proportion. Reading through judgements, it never ceases to amaze me how a matter as straightforward as a property dispute can be convoluted to the point where it reads with more density and nonsensicality than a sermon delivered by a pathological occultist.

I find it difficult to reconcile both why and how practitioners of complex systems such as finance, government and law delude themselves into believing they ‘know.’ Judgements are incomprehensible because not even the judges who write them truly understand the essence of what they’re harping on about. True morality, for example, cannot be grasped by the human mind. Judges often forget this and are content substituting precedent, their intuition and subjective interpretation in place of acknowledging human objectivity is a misnomer.  I believe there is black and white, but no man or woman has the faculty to see in absolutes. Our capacity is only for the tones of grey.

This illusory understanding is one of many biases that influence actors in the legal system. Among the more obvious are the profit and status motives that drive attorneys, and the scourge of corruption. Courts are also theatres for prejudice, the most fundamental bias, and one often overlooked. Certain principles underpin the proper administration of justice: the punishment should fit the crime, and equitability should be pivotal.

Of the two principles, equitability is the more critical failure. Inequitable punishment isn’t as grave a concern as inequitable procedure. Where the legal system fails is by allowing the worth of one person to diverge from another on unjust grounds. Outcomes, whether it be verdict or sentence, are unduly influenced by extraneous attributes of the ‘accused’ and ‘victim’ Age, gender, ethnicity. Skewed values impose themselves on a process that is supposedly impartial. Both Judge and Jury are guilty of this deplorable infraction.

Picture two cases where a teenager has assaulted a person in their forties. In the first case, the assailant is an eighteen year old male, and the victim, a forty-four year old female. The second case is identical, save for a reversal of genders, such that the assailant is an eighteen year old female, and the victim, a forty-four year old male.

Despite the principles and circumstances being indistinguishable between the two cases, assuming contingent evidence, there is a higher probability of both (a) a guilty verdict, and (b) a more severe sentence for the male assailant in the first case. Neither judges nor jurors are beyond reproach where prejudice is concerned. The legal system fails because the hands that administer justice are not clean: they are soiled by socially ingrained prejudices and preconception.

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Social Systems:

Though it is an exceptionally complicated animal, the social system can be distilled into four key modules: hierarchy, convention, role and socialisation. Together, they constitute the superstructure: the foundation stone upon which modern humanity is built. The superstructure governs the way we interact with each other and defines how society operates. Hierarchy can be viewed as a product of role and convention, and will be omitted as it is somewhat ancillary for the purposes of this analysis. Closer inspection of the other three is warranted; they are the sticking points on which all else rests.

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Convention

In a roundabout way, the social system is what proffers freedom: the freedom to choose a path in life, the freedom to pursue happiness, the freedom to be. But this freedom comes at a price – it is tempered by hidden constraint: you must play by the system’s rules.

Unlike ordinary rules, which are inflexible, social rules or conventions bridge the gap in the domain between rigid law and free will: they are very much optional. In matters of law, our behaviour is bound on pain of punishment. In matters of free will, our behaviour is wholly at our own liberty. But matters of convention reside in a state of flux, somewhere in the middle – what I call ‘stigmatically inhibited choice.’

Elucidating, a breach of a social convention isn’t the same as breaking the law. There are negative consequences, but they are not physical penalties like a fine or prison sentence. Breaches of convention trigger social consequences, most commonly a reduction in external esteem, exclusion, and shame.

Conventions can be described as generally accepted dogma that are universally observed despite their apparent lack of rationale. Some conventions, such as the wearing of business attire, truly have no practical purpose, whilst others, namely those relating to conduct, serve to lubricate the social machinery. By themselves, conventions are largely absurd; however, to the extent they influence how people think and behave, directing thought and action along specific lines, they are invaluable to the superstructure maintaining its stranglehold.

Picture a large one-way arterial with a dozen lanes. If everyone drives in the same direction, traffic flows smoothly and the system accomplishes its purpose (gets people to where they are going). Conversely, if drivers did their own thing, collisions would cause chaos, traffic would not move, and the system would collapse. The social system is no different, conventions and broad obedience toward them are necessary to sustain its operation.

Operating within the confines of a system which is blind itself, the constituency suffers from collective blindness. Collective blindness is why people accept social convention and systems without question. Primitive man learned if something was safe to eat by observing other animals – if they ate it and didn’t perish, it was supposedly safe for consumption. Similarly, modern man observes a behaviour and an effect, but tends to oversimplify and misunderstand causality. He obeys conventions not because they are objectively rational, but because they are observed on a large scale, and thus appear objectively rational.

Socialisation

History has proven that whenever the human beast is coerced to obey, more often than not, an insurrection will ensue. The solution to this problem lies in effecting indirect coercion using society itself rather than directing coercion from a central source. In this way, there is no escape and no outlet to direct a rebellion against. You can have an uprising against a dictator or government, but society cannot revolt upon itself. Socialisation is the instrument through which indirect coercion is effected.

To proffer a measure of context, socialisation is fundamental to the past, present and future development of humanity because interaction underpins the transference and refinement of knowledge, and is by definition requisite to forming relationships and fulfilling emotional needs. With respect to the contemporary notion of humanism, socialisation is necessarily a dimension; for in absence of our ability to socialise, we would be little more than lucid automatons.

However, socialisation is among the world’s most horribly misunderstood concepts. It has an unimaginable sinister side – powerful, silent and lethal. By the device of socialisation, a universal thinking regime is indoctrinated. It discourages and prevents you from anchoring your identity on how you think.

Socialisation, in any milieu that would be deemed ‘normal,’ requires one to adopt averaged or expected behaviours. We are afflicted with an imperative to socialise, to feel we ‘belong.’ To do so, we need to fit in – which is, curiously, the very antithesis of the uniqueness imperative. Such a blatant contradiction is reconciled through ‘arbitrary artificial convergence.’ In simple terms, because ‘belonging’ is based on commonality and groupings, we create the common ground, then gravitate toward and converge upon it. A highly nebulous concept, but it can be seen everywhere. Two strangers meet at a party, they connect by discussing football. Sharing a beer with a group of people is a social ritual. Commiseration and gossip in the workplace. All relate to forced convergence to a specious mean; they have no logical meaning or purpose, yet by their being ‘average,’ serve as fountains of belongingness. By indulging in what the ‘average’ person does, it is very difficult to feel isolated or lonely.

Critically, the outcomes of socialisation permeate virtually all aspects of modern existence. Do you follow football because you passionately enjoy it? Do you go out to clubs because it gives you fulfilment in life? Do you find success in your career vindicates your self esteem?

It is not possible to say these things are not socially motivated. This is precisely why I’m clubbed to death, why sport bores me to the point of tears, and why I cannot define myself by my occupation.

The most pejorative thing I have to say about the social system regards the product of socialisation. The averaging that is caused by socialisation doesn’t just promote ‘average’ socially condition behaviours, it promotes ‘average’ perspective and ‘average’ thinking. It advocates: “here’s a road map and instruction manual for life, follow it, work hard enough and you’ll be fulfilled.” It will have you believe you are a free agent in control of your own destiny, when in reality you are little more than a captive pawn.

Anomaly

Mapping the treacherous terrain of life is no easy feat, and if your Cartography isn’t up to scratch, it is far easier to pick up a map from the shelf than plot your own. Thus it isn’t surprising to see people are broadly willing to subject their characters to the undignified process of this ‘dirty averaging.’

Society, by virtue of its need to reflect operational commonality, dulls the extremes in order to produce a comfortable, moderated outcome, which has closer affinity with/to the status quo. We, the actors of society, are lazy, which fits perfectly with status quo existence. If you want to feel those warm and fuzzy feelings of belongingness and fulfilment, why bother thinking on your own accord when you can yield to the temptation of an off-the-shelf product and seek that average?

Averaging is impossible to avoid so long as you live within society. Despite my contempt for all the socially defined measures of fulfilment, I am still subject to some of them and will continue to be for the foreseeable future. Resistance is futile. Even the sharpest of blades will inevitably be blunted when placed in a moving chamber of grindstones.

Though we cannot evade averaging completely, fighting the average or being an anomaly is a different story. All that is required to be an anomaly is a conscious realisation that you are living under the confines of a system and a concomitant refusal to surrender your mind to the way it directs you to think.

Historically, evolution didn’t take too kindly to anomalies. Once upon a time, natural selection was charged with eliminating unsavoury (or survival adverse) traits from the gene pool, in what we all know from high school science as ‘survival of the fittest.’ This process has been removed from nature’s domain and placed into human hands. The faceless troll that is the social mindset determines and dictates to us those characteristics which are held to be favourable. Now the case is ‘survival of the finessed.’ Choose not to demonstrate these indoctrinated characteristics, choose not to assimilate, and you will face the consequences.

Fortunately, the anathema that is the social mindset isn’t as efficient as mother nature, which is just as well considering it seeks to promote an artificial and corrupt order. As such, the penalty for diverging is social isolation rather than death. By this grace, anomalies persist, preventing the snowballing effect of socialisation from avalanching.

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General definitions posit that an anomaly’s value has to do with scarcity. In Philately for example, the postage stamp bearing a fault is worth immeasurably more than specimens from correctly printed runs.

From a theoretical standpoint however, anomalies are valuable for a very different reason. Whenever we are testing a hypothesis, there is a tendency to accumulate supportive observations that validate or confirm the underlying conjecture. For example, I theorise that Muzzas have intelligence quotients below ninety. Given I reside within walking distance of Chapel Street, I could saunter down any given Saturday evening and assemble empirical data directly by asking said Muzzas which language is spoken in Corsica.

I could spend many months gathering data which confirms my hypothesis and possibly pick up the habit of calling all men ‘bro’ in the process. For every Muzza that replies “Italian,” jeers,  grunts or attempts to ‘deck’ me, my conjecture gains incremental validity. However, to the extent my sample size will never converge completely upon the entire population of Muzzas, I cannot objectively confirm my hypothesis.

On the other hand, it would take but one Muzza who knew that Corsica is actually a French territory, to invalidate my theory. This is the power of the anomaly – like the overused example of Neo in The Matrix, it only takes one.

Everyone believes they are somehow different from the rest – on some level. Validation and identity is partially based upon an internal assurance of uniqueness. Whether or not this uniqueness is illusory is beside the point; if you cannot somehow differentiate yourself from the next person, then you are nobody. Without a shred of uniqueness to hold on to, you are just part of the soup that is humanity. In an identity sense, it is the equivalent of death.

Hence, the struggle for uniqueness. Often, in the course of this struggle, a trap is succumbed to, whereby the subject intentionally focuses upon being anomalous or emphasising certain angles of anomaly in an effort to stand out. This is not the true meaning of anomaly. The realm definition for human anomaly in social systems is cognitive deviation and espousing reality without censoring oneself to be sympathetic to averages.

Following this line of reasoning, we establish that in a pragmatic sense, an anomaly’s inherent value is its ability to threaten the system’s stability. Cognitive deviation entails an aversion to following system-consistent thinking. Challenging the system is a derivative of this aversion, dissonance creates an impetus for change, and defiance promotes destabilisation.

One could mount the argument that human systems are organic and gradually improve and refine themselves as they ‘learn’ from their mistakes. Evolutionary or incremental change best characterises this phenomenon. In a life context, we could compare this to going to school each day. However, just as anomalies in life, those random occurrences and chance meetings, cause abrupt quantum leaps in understanding, destabilisation brought about by system anomalies is the trigger of explosive development. Instances where anomalies have caused system instability are a precursor to reformation and improvement. The Second World War and its impact on the German and Japanese economies being a case in point. Looking back, we can credit much of civilisation’s advancement to destabilisation caused by anomalous events, ideas and people.

Destabilisation

However, anomalies are not the only cause for destabilisation. Systems are human constructs, and are unstable by design. Instability stems from humanity’s inherent irrationality and need for constant change. In an invariable and rational world, systems would be stable, but we live in a state far from it.

At the time of writing, the world is in the midst of the most profound financial crisis since the Great Depression. It is the first time in over seventy years that the integrity of the entire financial system has been called into question. This is system instability at its finest.

Each time the ruin of an ineffective system is averted, the consequences of eventual catastrophic failure become correspondingly more destructive. Let’s say I began constructing a tower from dominoes, and I make repetitive, infinitesimally small errors as I position each domino. Eventually, the cumulative impact of these small errors will cause the tower to sway. To fix this, I reposition a few of the dominoes ever so slightly, thus stabilising the tower, and allowing me to resume building higher.

The trouble with this strategy is that I don’t know how many more levels I can build before it collapses. The only way I can have confidence the tower will remain sturdy is if I start again, and take care to position each domino with greater precision.

Insofar as human systems go, they are never perfect, but the new tower will be stable at elevated heights where the old one would have toppled.

Myopia prevents structural rebuilds and creates a predisposition to cosmetic tinkering. If you can stabilise and save a shonky system, and it holds for long enough for it to become someone else’s problem, you’ll be a hero. If you instigate radical, unsettling change, you’ll be reviled.

No one will admit the system is a failure so long as there is some, any, plausible saving grace.

It explains why a concerted effort is being made to stabilise the system at all costs, and authorities will sooner apply massive patches to mend the decaying fabric than to allow it to disintegrate and weave a new one from stronger textile.

So why intervene, to the point of idiocy, to save the financial system? Some of the measures instituted to date have gone against the grain of logic, and in isolation, couldn’t possibly be deemed rational by a purist, pragmatic bystander. The reason lies within the linkages between systems and their co-dependence.

Think of what typically happens in an economic recession – consumer spending hits a wall, production is curtailed, business investment grinds to a halt, costs cut and employees are made redundant to ensure businesses remain as going concerns. The rate of unemployment spikes, strain on the welfare system increases and government budgets go into deficit.

That’s the very basic anatomy of a recession. Economically, the consequences of a recession are undoubtedly ominous. But they are not the critical issue. Over long periods, the economy, being a cyclical beast, self-corrects as imbalances are resolved. The real problem of a severe recession such as that which faces much of the world today is the domino effect it has on the social system.

Unemployment is a statistic that measures the state of the labour market, and is a principal indicator of the health of an economy. When unemployment spikes upward, in simple terms, it means people are losing their jobs. Automatically, we recognise the impact this has on material wellbeing – it is obvious. What we don’t correctly quantify is the psychological impact of unemployment.

In a severe recession, the sharp rise in unemployment creates ‘mass demoralisation.’ As previously discussed, modern social systems rely heavily on specialisation and role being a fundamental element of identity. Picture yourself as someone who derives validation from your job and career; and suddenly finding you’ve had the rug swept from beneath you. You are no longer a programmer or accountant. You are unemployed, and by virtue of the economic climate, unemployable. What goes through your mind?

Demoralisation occurs as a result of one of the major arteries feeding your identity being severed. The instinctive knowledge that we are not our jobs should afford a degree of protection from psychological break. However, the sheer potency of ‘job = identity’ consciousness I encounter daily is worrisome. I daresay a proportion of the newly redundant interpret it as failure, and the demoralisation is amplified to the extent they have dependents or are supporting a family.

Extreme demoralisation (‘life is too hard’) increases the individual’s apathetic propensity, which can (and often does) lead to crime and suicide. It isn’t difficult to see the inherent linkage – in a world that defines itself by the self, social and material esteems that flow from role and employment, shocks to the economic system will inevitably ricochet. When a powerful enough sustained shock hits the superstructure, the risk of deterioration in the integrity of complementary critical systems (legal, political) increases exponentially – a precursor to war.

*

Collective Consciousness

Socialisation provides the means necessary to mobilise countries into war. Without something pushing collective consciousness, you can’t have a war. Political wars are motivated by ideological notions infused into a large collective consciousness, either forcibly or by choice.

When a war can be instigated by the idea one group is superior to others on an arbitrary characteristic, then it is obvious the tenets supporting the social superstructure are largely unintelligent. Let’s look at work as a conceptual example. Work is a crucial component of the social system; it defines roles, facilitates status/wealth accumulation, has spawned all manner of conventions, and is the domain of hierarchy. 

Relating these aspects, there are only two reasons why people work. One is money, the other is validation. There is absolutely no rational basis for physical or mental exertion in the absence of these two motivators. Take money out of the equation, and irrespective of how much someone ‘loves’ their job, they will only continue to work if their identity is anchored to their occupation. Sever the chain from the anchor and the boat will drift.

A substantive premise underpinning the modern social order is the fundamental relationship between exertion and reward. We take for granted the supposition that if we do something well, our effort will be duly rewarded. This association is absolutely fallacious.

Given a situation involving direct work where there is a fixed correspondence between input and output, and no exogenous moderators, the association will hold.

Say my ‘job’ involved carrying buckets of water between the village well and a farm. Walking at a normal pace, let’s say I can move 100 litres per hour. However, if I increase my walk speed by 20%, I will transport those same hundred litres in 48 minutes, or alternatively, move 120 litres per hour. This is a 1:1 correspondence between input and output.

Exertion in most professional occupations is rewarded on basis of time (i.e. perceived exertion), in preference to output (the measurable product of exertion). Back to our example, there is no incentive to walk faster if I am paid $20 for each hour I move buckets of water. All I have to do is maintain an acceptable average output (in this case, 100 litres per hour). However, if I was paid $20 for each 100 litres of water I moved, then I’d earn $24 an hour (20% more) by walking 20% faster. It is this transparent relationship between exertion and reward that drives efficiency and innovation. Under such an arrangement, I could use a wheelie bin to move 1000 litres in an hour, and get ten times the reward.

But the world is not that simple. In a brief vignette, some months ago, I heard a piece of ‘advice.’ If one worked an extra hour each day, there was, in a matter of speaking, no end to what one could achieve. This got me thinking.

In a contemporary context, the chain of ‘logic’ whose links are longer hours, (equating to) higher exertion, greater devotion and, eventually, increased reward/success (however you want to define the term) is not logical at all.

In the real world, the farmer is more likely to reward the man who has spent sixteen hours a day moving buckets of water for the last ten years for his devotion, than the wheelie-bin pusher for his innovation. Why is this so? It comes back to the age-old battle between employer and employee, and who ‘owns’ efficiency. Today’s corporations annex ownership of their employees’ innovation by convention, under the rationale ‘it’s what we pay you for.’ The system owns your mind.

Too many fail to realise hard work is often inconsequential to the outcome. You could dwell on a problem for weeks, and the answer could hit you unexpectedly while you’re in the shower. In reality, the correlation between projection and return is at best specious and at worst non-existent. There are always factors beyond influence.

Say I worked as a quality controller, and my job was to divide yellow and purple blocks coming off a conveyor belt into two boxes, one for purple, one for yellow. I can only work as fast as the conveyor belt moves. Concentrating harder on the conveyor belt is not going to make me faster or more efficient. But the collective consciousness will have you believe otherwise.

*

Role

Let’s say we’ve just approached someone who might be partner material. In absence of pleasantries, the first pragmatic question is “Are you single?” The second is almost always “What do you do for a living?” Here we see the insidiousness of roles: those occupational categories with which we label ourselves. Role carries significant weight in the equation of impression. Reasoning backward, impression is important to man because he is a social creature, who has a psychological need for social esteem and validation. Therefore, a role is crucial, we devote much of our lives to pursuing them, and they install themselves as elements of our identity. Advancement within a role becomes the life fixation otherwise known as a career, and from this flows not only our material livelihood, but often our social connections, and most always our pride. Role yields the two prime ranking measures, money and status.

Specialists are impressive, and the attachment to pride stems from our yearning to be master of some proficiency, no matter how small or odd. We live in a world we will never master, nor grasp conceptually. To justify one’s uniqueness, it is necessary to believe there is something specific which differentiates you from everyone else. Specialising and attempting to master a role is a common way this is accomplished.

With respect to functional potency, specialty is the jewel in the crown – sheer architectural brilliance. By ushering agents into specialised roles, we drastically reduce the incidence of generalists with a broad enough perspective to understand whatever system, much less all of them. These ‘roles’ are the architectural beauty of the grand system, for they bestow the illusion of importance upon agents. To be a barrister in the legal system, a banker in the financial system, a teacher in the education system, a minister in the political system, et cetera. We are coerced to anchor our identity in our role, and in doing so, we define and resign ourselves as a component of the system.

We have now established conceptual paradox of freedom with reference to the social system: it gives with the right hand but takes with the left. At liberty to pursue whatever you wish, but bound by the tendrils of the system.

Expanding upon this contradiction, to understand how and why people accept and maintain the social systems that affect them, social psychologists have developed system justification theory. According to system justification theory, people not only want to hold favourable attitudes about themselves (ego-justification) and their own groups (group-justification), but they also want to hold favourable attitudes about the overarching social order (system-justification).

Our self-image and identity are defined by the social system. Hence the social order is accepted and defended because if you do not believe the social order is just and the system correct, then you cannot hold yourself in any social esteem because your identity is premised on that system. “Support the system that supports you.”

*

Conclusion

Systems do not work. They cannot by definition. They attempt to overlay artificial reason upon an abstract world. The paradox is that they are inescapable – without systems, humanity is reduced to nothing. Systems persist because humanity is too weak to walk without crutches. There can be no reconciliation with human systems when life is understood in true context, as a protracted collision course with death. Systems serve to bring a measure of order to chaos and define meaning where none exists. Their dominance, scale, mystic complexity and ubiquity allow us to feel we are a functional part of something greater, rather than a feeble, briefly animated piece of organic matter.

Speculations on how to resolve the system’s fundamental problems are often best formulated by taking the status quo, and introducing a suitably interesting modifier. Imagine, for instance, that we were to remove all objects of superfluous external projection and differentiation, and invoke standards by which everyone wears the same outfit (let’s make it friar robes), drives the same vehicle, lives in a generic house, whose size is proportionate to number of inhabitants, remove demographic classing between suburbs and otherwise eliminate all observable differentiators. How differently would society function? Could you live in a global monastery where the degree of exhibited difference is zero? What would happen if competition were removed completely? If property rights were eliminated? If intemperance and excess didn’t exist? If all power was decentralised and civilisation re-established itself as small autonomous collectives?

In critiquing systems, I don’t doubt for a moment that man’s boundless desire must be reigned in or somehow controlled, but there are other means to accomplish this end. As a side-effect, modern systems, through the imposition of goals, also have the ability to capture idle time and engage massive quantities of mental capacity that could be put to more enlightened use elsewhere. Power, possession, morality and affiliation are the four fundamental goals through which the four key systems draw power.

My prime apprehension is the validity and the blind acceptance of these goals, both of which systems endorse. Systems promote passive, nonchalant existence and have created a world of mindless zombies who merely exist, flogging dead horses, oblivious to the fact. Whilst we may think we are living with clarity, this logic is both backward and tragic. We are flying blind. ‘Progress’ – where you get to in so many endeavours in life, is hollow and worthless. It really doesn’t make any difference if you flog a dead horse for a minute versus an hour. Illumination, and true freedom of existence comes from realising the horse is actually dead, and finding a live one to flog instead.

Sudamérica

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Agua Dulce, Agua Sala ( South America 2008 )

Commencing transposition of barely legible scrawl in a small black notebook, I begin committing this entry from an internet café overlooking the local plaza of Aguas Calientes, portal town to the Incan ruins of Machu Picchu, deep within the Peruvian Andes.

Trips have a strange tendency to melt into blurs after a short while, so I resolved to purposefully document them henceforth to avoid losing the precious commodity of life experience.

Travelling, in my subjective opinion, has three purposes.

  1. To see the world and experience different cultures (the anthropological bent)
  2. To force one outside their comfort zone and allow the evaluation life from a more detached standpoint
  3. To position for heightened exposure to coincidental anomaly

The coincidental anomalies to which I refer are those moments where something elusive suddenly becomes clear, or one unexpectedly discovers something perception altering. Likelihood of such occurrences increases exponentially whilst travelling (backpacking in particular) as the routine of normal life is broken exposure to unsystematic situations amplified. Individually, such situations do not tend to register as significant, but, taken collectively, a series experienced in a short time frame accelerates personal development at a velocity far greater than scheduled living. So it begins.

***

5th September

Whilst en route from Sydney to Auckland, the LAN hostess stowed my cabin bag in a different section of the plane. A couple of hours later, I went to retrieve it and asked a hostess “another hostess stowed my bag, do you know where she put it?” After showing me to my bag, she muttered in a barely audible, crestfallen tone “she was me.”

I had neglected to acknowledge I’d asked the very same hostess who stowed my bag.

Incidences like these serve as a reminder that I am still a hypocrite beyond hope of salvation. I cannot begin to comprehend how it must be to spend hours serving people with a smile, without but a glimmer of hope of being recognised as a human being. I wanted to apologize to her and I disembarked at Auckland feeling somewhat guilty but grateful I’d been afforded that small but vital enlightenment.

Auckland to Santiago was comparatively uneventful. The mind doesn’t function at peak capacity when it is under pressure of anticipation, so I put analytics on the backburner and watched Zohan.

Despite my being hypercritical of the mass of entertainment genres, there are isolated incidences where even the most nonsensical of films yield progressive themes. The entire notion of the rivalry between Israel and Palestine for example, though portrayed sardonically in the film, was brought into sharper focus. It brings into question the very concept of allegiance. Why does modern day interracial hatred exist? Must Jews necessarily feel resentment toward Germans? Aborigines to Anglo-Australians? Blacks to whites? Historically, heinous acts have been committed, but must I, as a modern day Anglo-Australian apologise to an Indigenous Australian of my generation for something I was not responsible for, and which he has not been directly affected by?

For this precise reason, division along lines of race or nationality is something I will never quite grasp. The actions of isolated individuals, groups and governments indeed have in the past, and continue to cause damage, yet resentment, being something of a blunt instrument, is misdirected across unconscionable breadths.

Returning to path proper after that philosophical deviation, we arrive at our first destination, São Paulo, Brasil, the most highly populated city in South America, home to some eleven million inhabitants.

Fitting the adventure about to be embarked upon, there was, by happenstance, a particularly amusing exchange between Lord Darlington and Cecil Graham in Act III of Lady Windermere’s Fan (1892) by Oscar Wilde, I read on the plane:

Lord Darlington: You always amuse me, Cecil. You talk as if you were a man of experience.

Cecil Graham: I am. (Moves up to front of fireplace)

Lord Darlington: You are far too young!

Cecil Graham: That is a great error. Experience is a question of instinct about life. I have got it. Tuppy hasn’t. Experience is the name Tuppy gives to his mistakes. That is all. (Lord Augustus looks round indignantly)

I can’t take credit for my reading of Wilde, as that charge is held by a young lady by the name of Sera who compelled me to read his works. Bringing to surface the age old debate concerning experience versus intuition, Cecil makes a compelling argument. Experience is indeed accumulated as we learn from our mistakes. However, this fact does not invalidate perceptive inference or deduction as an equally legitimate source. Time and again, I have found properly executed observation and analysis negates the need to put one’s hand in the fire to see if it is hot.

***

6th September

First impressions of Brasil were those of a culture not unlike Australia. By virtue of speaking Portuguese, Brasil is isolated from the rest of Latin and South America, which is overwhelmingly Spanish-speaking. As such, Brasil is very much a world unto itself, and quite an introspective nation, similar to the United States. The internal focus is perpetuated by a very high degree of local tourism, and despite strong national fabric, each region possesses a unique brand of culture, down to the dialect of Portuguese spoken. Systems are still highly bureaucratic and inefficient, a legacy of the Portuguese colonisation, and red tape is prohibitively dense.

The people are perceptibly more open and expressive, as evidenced by smiles that conveyed meaning, the routine of embrace, and young teenage couples vacuuming each other’s faces off in the streets. Humanistic tenets permeate secular domains. Loyalty and prerogative are geared firmly toward family and friends over career and employer.

Business is conducted in a manner far removed from the stiff and clinical formality of the West. Relationships are primordial, small talk is vindicated by the interest in the counterparty being genuine, clockwatching is nonexistent, the dialogue, frank and forthright. Degrees of dodging, schmoozing and general balderdash were markedly lower. Most refreshing was the noticeable reduction in what I call the ‘plausible deniability’ phenomenon – that is, the use of heavy obscurity and meandering circumvention popular with paranoid Western businesspeople to bend the truth or cover their backsides.

A further point of intrigue was the sheer disparity between classes, and the manner in which Brasil’s social class system operates. Instead of a working, middle and upper class, people are ranked by affluence from ‘A,’ denoting the elite, through ‘F’ for the impoverished. I could catch a taxi from the Intercontinental in Jardins, (an ‘A’ class district), and minutes later, end up in rolling slums of decaying flats with old clothing hanging from glassless windows.   

Such is the nature of the incredible class divide in Brasil. The only thing that surprised me more was the seeming absence of vertical resentment in the ascending direction, and the patent lack of prejudice in the descending direction. Brasil is a nation of Brasilians, who largely identify with their own countrymen and do not observably denigrate those lower on the social hierarchy.

***

Denigration is visiting a foreign country and expecting them to adapt to you. Being a foreigner, I make an earnest effort to speak the language, even if I sound utterly retarded in the process. It eludes me how one can enter a foreign country with the expectation that one can get by on knowing how to say “hello, yes, no, and thank you” in the foreign tongue and rely on the thumbs up gesture for the rest. Worse are those who incessantly speak their mother tongue and expect people in the host country to understand exactly what they mean. It’s almost painful.

Further along this train of thought, five star hotels I find disconcerting. I have never been able to reconcile being called ‘sir’ and waited on as if I somehow deserve to be treated better because I or my company can afford to pay the rates at the hotel. No sooner than the morning after the Intercontinental had checked me in, I was out venturing the streets and ended up some distance from the safe and pretty Jardins district: at one street market complete with characteristic beggars and piles of decaying organic matter.

There milled a group of old Paulistanos holding an animated conversation in emphatic and fast Portuguese between mouthfuls of a variant on Tortes. I spot the vendor a few metres away, and R1.25 later, I have my very own bread roll filled with freshly carved chicken from a spit, tomato and onion.

A short subway ride later, I step out of the central station, Sè. Sky is cloudless; a nearby temperature gauge reads thirty-one degrees. On the steps of the Cathedral Metropolitan, above the station, a man with a crazy look approaches me and begins to preaching at velocity. Not being able to understand a word he is saying, I implore “No falo Portuges bem, que você quer?” He pauses, reaches into his pocket, hands me two items: a calendar depicting a saint and a small metal charm on a string necklace, and smiles. Silence. A few seconds pass. He looks up at me, eyes expectant. A few more seconds… “Money?” I deserved the self-imposed two Reai penalty – should’ve seen that one coming.

Rather worn-out from exploring, I saunter off to the pool that afternoon to extract some benefit from the hotel facilities. Low and behold, there present is an especially insufferable American with his pillion passenger: an inexhaustible capacity to talk crap. Patrick seemed a typical vacationing middle aged fellow who you’d expect to see lounging next to the pool at a five star hotel; until he opened his mouth. He was trying to convince the two ladies sunbaking adjacent that women expect men to do all the work and don’t put enough effort into relationships. In a half hour tirade of drivel (during which my mind had to raise shields to defend against stupidity) the only remotely intelligible thing he said was that you don’t eat at Subway when vacationing in Brasil.

This broad-spectrum Subway rule also extends to conferencing in Brasil. My ethical code considers ludicrously expensive dining when someone else is paying a moral hazard. The exception to this rule is stockbroking, where AMEX is to broker what stethoscope is to Doctor. Absurdly, the Lobster and Malbec I had that evening at Rubayat (a pretentious restaurant built around a gargantuan fig tree), cost one hundred times as much as lunch, but wasn’t anywhere near as good as that street roll. The fallacies of Epicureanism.   

I stride into the lobby in a slightly vacillated state that evening and meet Melina, the Intercontinental’s absolutely delightful night manageress. By the time she’d pointed out places I should visit on the map, I knew she was one of those people. Living in a sea of neutrality heightens one’s sensitivity to anomalies.

As is often the case, the day ends in the vicinity of two in the morning. A storm rages outside as I sit in the darkened, empty business lounge on the seventeenth floor; my attempts at smashing out emails on a loathsome Portuguese keyboard causing no end of frustration. I am fortunate enough to receive an especially sweet message from an old friend and acknowledge a change in life trajectory.

***

7th September

Sunday was Brasil’s Independence Day, so I took the opportunity to rummage around for cultural happenings. At Parque Ibirapuera, metallic pings echo as children throw stones against a large, rusted metal panel. Guards sit operating boom gates to private streets in the exclusive district nearby. Outside the Santa Cruz Metrô station, hip hop emanates from nowhere, providing the aural backdrop for street vendors selling pirated movies.

Unable to bear the thought of fast food for lunch, I made a point of visiting the Mercado Municipal that afternoon to pit my pathetic Portuguese against staff at the eateries. Terra de Santa Cruz, an old-world bistro overlooking the markets from the mezzanine was chosen for its understated charm. No sooner had I stopped to glance at the menu, one of the waiters shouts “Ingles!” Seconds later, a character by the name of Cicero appears from the kitchen to explain, in English, the best typical dishes on the menu. A credit to Cicero; the plate of chicken in cream sauce with potato purée and salad, accompanied by a glass of Brahma Chopp Black (a sweet stout that mops the proverbial floor with Guinness) was outstanding fare.

Returning to the Intercontinental, I’d left too great a time contingency before dinner, so I chewed the fat with hotel staff on which cultures made for the most frustrating customers. Contrary to my belief it was the noxiously obnoxious American, a quick poll had the Japanese take first place, followed a close second by the Arab. Among the entertaining stories, was one of an irate gentleman who took issue when the phone was picked up after three rings instead of instantaneously, and another where room assignments had to be changed because of an apparent convention in Arabic culture that those higher on the hierarchy should reside on loftier floors than their subordinates.

Dinner at Fogo de Chão marked the first stop on a carnivorous rampage through various Churrascarias and Parrillas across the continent. To expound, the progression of a meal at a Churrascaria is distinct from the average restaurant. Shortly after being seated, an assemblage of Passadors descend upon the table, each carrying a large knife and an even larger slab of meat on a metal skewer. They proceed to carve chunks of meat onto your plate until you emphatically tell them to stop. In true Church of Duracell Bunny style, here they just keep going, after you tell them to stop. Being of part Argentine heritage, this was nostalgically good, but any self-respecting vegetarian would have been in the seventh circle of hell.

Some ungodly quantity of animal later, Luciano, one of our Brasilian hosts, calls for the chimarrão. The passing around of the gourd from which yerba maté herbal tea is sipped through a bombilla is a social custom in Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay and Brasil. Despite my best attempts to sell maté’s supremacy, the vessel meets with some bewildered looks and polite refusals from fellow Australians as it makes its way around the table. We conclude our dining experience with dessert and obligatory shots.

***

Ten o’clock on any normal Sunday evening, my psychological ether tanks are fully depleted. Not so when there is the imperative of being in an alien environment. A block’s stroll down to Starbucks that night affords further insight. Ten o’clock on any normal Sunday evening, you don’t expect a twenty deep queue outside a chain coffee shop – but then again, as they keep telling me: this is Brasil. Of greater curiosity was the queue’s demographic: young, smartly-dressed Paulistanos and Paulistanas from obviously well-to-do backgrounds, lining up to pay R8.30 for a Venti Caramel Latte. To put this into context, the minimum weekly wage across major metropolises in Brasil would be enough to cover nine such Lattes.

Qualitatively, Starbuck’s is inferior to regular coffee served almost anywhere else in Brasil, and considerably more expensive. Clearly, we have an empirical case of esteem projection. Young people frequent Starbucks because the brand’s tragic Americanism is perceived as differentiated and exotic. When you couple these attributes with elevated pricing, the outcome is status value. Backwardness is a concept you don’t become acquainted with until you see dressed-up teenage couples out on a date at a big box, chain coffee shop.

***

8th September

Karmacoma belts out of my Nokia N95 with headache-inducing treble at the agonising hour of four thirty in the morning: early departures call for extreme measures. Today was the first of many such flights – to Brasilia, then connecting to another bound for Barreiras, Bahia state, where the airport is (literally) a shack.

We arrive in the dusty town, population some fifty thousand, in time for another weeks’ worth of red meat in one sitting at Los Pampas, a traditional feeling, open-air churrascaria, situated down a dirt road off the main thoroughfare. My synapses must’ve been overloaded by the excessive quantities of Guaraná Antarctica consumed with lunch, because the interceding hours are missing in action.

Skipping to the next lucid memory, the small-town amity hit me that evening as I entered Confraria restaurant. By the door stands a glass cabinet housing some hundred bottles of Red Label, some near full, others bone dry, each bearing its owners name. The cabinet’s plaque reads ‘Johnnie Walker Club.’ Dinner, served not a whisker earlier than ten, is accompanied by live folk music, and the evening is rounded out with discussions on farm life and Cachaça (sugar cane liquor) cocktails, spliced with assorted fruit.

***

9th September 

A Kodak moment on the drive up to the regional airport that morning as a Brasilian colleague sits in the 4WD with an oversized bag of fast food from Giraffa’s, drinking out of a Coke can. 4WD hits pothole. Coke goes everywhere. Laughter ensues. You had to be there.

Strained conversation in a fusion of Portuguese, Spanish and English decorates the remainder of our journey across the bland savannah. In one hour, we had two breakthroughs: I managed to establish that ‘galinha’ was Portuguese for chicken, and they managed to convey their evaluation of two Brazilian girls who passed us on a motorcycle: “mucho caliente.”

Situated two hours by four-seat light plane from Barreiras was our destination: the diversified farming operation: Fazenda São Francisco. Forty thousand hectares of harvested cotton fields stretching out to the horizon, punctuated by truck-sized bricks of cotton every few metres. The farm itself could’ve been a self-sufficient community. Looking like a compound from the air above, the ‘town’ had a fully staffed parts shop, warehouse sized maintenance shed, a carpentry, dormitories, medical centre, canteen, a vast fleet of farming vehicles, a cotton gin, and a few aeroplanes, including the owner’s US$3m Cheyenne II.

Following a comprehensive tour of the facilities, we sat down to a home-style buffet lunch of salad, rice, meatloaf, zucchini filled with a tuna and corn purée, chicken schnitzel, penne, antipasti and palm hearts. It’s not all too often I dine at the table of someone whose wealth has nine figures, so the experience was novel. Among the incongruities were not one, but two white snowflakes jutting from a breast pocket.

It appears even farming is not immune to the projection imperative. Even in the far reaches of rural Brasil, the subtle snowflake born by Mont Blanc writing instruments is acknowledged as a mark of status. But it gets better. Farmers who’ve ‘made it’ are discerned by their reaping and sowing fleet. Once that critical level of success has been reached, the farmer will often liquidate the entire fleet of vehicles and replace them with the shiny green machines bearing prominent yellow John Deere logos.

Whilst standing outside Brasilia airport getting some fresh air, I am asked the time by a gentleman. Some minutes later, I realise how you could justify ‘needing’ two Mont Blanc pens to demonstrate status: most Brasilians don’t wear watches. Trivial though it may seem, the latter fact speaks profoundly to life priorities in Brasil as distinct from the West, where we are slaves to the clock.

***

10th September

Breakfast offerings at Norton’s in Hotel Melia 21 put the Intercontinental to shame. Worthy of special mention are the granola and selection of smallgoods. What’s more is that they had a jaffle iron sitting discreetly on the corner of the bar. I hold deep reverence for any hotel that provides its guests with both the ingredients and amenities to fabricate toasted sandwiches.

There was a half hour before the first meeting, so we embark on a whirlwind bus tour of Brasilia narrated in a thick Chicago accent by our eccentric American driver, who gestures wildly with both hands, emphatically pointing out various sites. He’d have looked the portrait of a maniac to anyone outside the vehicle (also to anyone inside for that matter). I honestly couldn’t figure out why the man was a bus driver, he was sharp and charismatic enough to be a comedian. A motorist outside makes an obscene gesture at him, and without skipping a beat, he waves and proclaims jovially “Hey! How you doing?” then turns back to us and explains: “I have lots of friends here.”   

Normally, government meetings tend to be mind-numbing, as you’re fed some combination of lies, mumbo-jumbo, practiced promotion, and political fudge disguised as dialogue. Not so with the Brasilian Ministry for Agriculture. The candidness, realism and admissions of policy issues on the part of the bureaucrats were enough to make any sceptic feel they were was hallucinating. Hospitality is similarly unbelievable – outstanding espresso is served, along with pão de queijo, small spheres of fluffy cheese bread popular in region of Minas Gerais, where the Minister hails from.

***

Back in São Paulo, sitting through a blockbuster four hour, 130 slide presentation that runs into early evening, I am bequeathed a crash course in the markets for Soybeans, Corn, Cotton, Sugar and Frozen Concentrated Orange Juice.

Circa nine thirty, I find myself back at the Intercontinental in São Paulo, and venture out for a late dinner. Unsavoury characters have a penchant for haranguing me for money, so it was no surprise when I was besieged in three languages by an unstable looking vagrant who finally demanded “where chu from” when his requests for money in Portuguese, Spanish and English failed. I am forced to issue a blunt “Deutschland” in my best rendition of heavy German to avoid potential altercation. 

Unfortunately, my brief run of the gauntlet was futile, as the Pizzeria recommended by the concierge) didn’t deliver. For want of an open establishment in the vicinity, I defaulted to Domino’s. Subsequent to painstakingly explaining that I needed delivery to a hotel room, and not a street address, I returned along Av. Santos to avoid my vagrant friend and waited in the lobby, remembering I’d quoted the wrong room number by mistake to the Dominiero. In the ensuing twenty minutes, I stand waiting, but alas, no pizza cometh.

This must’ve been providence, as I end up having an in-depth conversation with Melina, punctuated by guests arriving. Brasilian born of Japanese heritage three generations prior, gets bored easily, wants to enjoy life but have a career and base too, and was quitting at the end of the week to work on a cruise ship in French Polynesia. She sees herself as a bit crazy, and speaks fluent Portuguese, Spanish, and English, working Japanese, and wants to learn French and German. The kicker: she is only twenty four.

After some minutes of conversation on life, boredom and the nuances of clients, she calls Dominos and harasses them about my pizza, which arrives promptly thereafter courtesy of a sheepish looking delivery boy. I could’ve kissed her (I didn’t understand a word she said on the phone, but she sounded like the type of woman you wouldn’t want to cross), but instead we exchange details and I withdraw to my room with said pizza, somewhat famished.

***

11h September

Day seven is the last on the Brasilian leg of the trip. At this stage, I was beginning to tire of normal breakfast combinations, and get a deservedly peculiar look from the waiter as he glances over my table; atop which sits a glass of watermelon juice, bowl of Miso soup, and plate containing boiled rice, fresh fruit and a glazed pastry. Early morning company meetings subsequent to four hours’ sleep stipulate the need for such a breakfast of champions.

In the short space of the meeting’s ninety minutes, I learned of the sheer complexity underlying the international markets for sugar, ethanol, oil, grain and the plethora of linkages in between. Pensiveness is the flavour of the morning as the conference crew disbands, the main party bound for Santiago that afternoon, and I hail a taxi to Guarulhos International, destination Montevideo.

Outside the cab window, bleak scenes of slums and homeless roll by, the stucco buildings and grey dirt a stark contrast to the elegant hues and leafy greens of Ibirapuera, mere minutes away. The driver stops by the terminal and becomes animated when I tip him ten Reais. Leaving the sprawling chaos of São Paolo, it dawns on me how fortunate I am to live in the small cosmopolitan village called Melbourne.

Almost as if it were fated, I’m obliged to spend three hours’ milling around Guarulhos airport on account of LAN flight 4551 being delayed. Following a further half hour banked up in a line of passenger jets, the Airbus, at long last, leaves the tarmac bound for Buenos Aires.

A word of warning to anyone who may be planning short haul flights with LAN: the food makes the cut for human consumption, but only by the thinnest of whiskers. I spent the better part of half an hour speculating whether the damp, triple-decker sandwich’s filling was, in fact, the alleged chicken loaf, or something more sinister.

By the time the metal bird roosts at Aeroparque, there is only half an hour before my connecting flight to Montevideo. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, but when that connecting flight is from another airport, 37km away in heavy traffic; it becomes a slight problem.

Rather than surrender to time crisis, I pick up a steak sandwich and Quilmes, sit down, have dinner, and then instigate my contingency plan. Four phone calls and sixteen minutes thereafter, I learn the flight has been cancelled due to “adverse weather conditions” in Uruguay and am able to obtain a seat on an alternate flight two hours later. Cutting it dangerously close to turning into a pumpkin, I arrive in the hotel lobby with five minutes to spare.

***

12th September

Charismatic is an understatement when it comes to describing the old-world charm of the Radisson Victoria Plaza in Montevideo. An ornately decorated lobby, casino in the basement and restaurant on the top floor, styled with classic elegance. The hotel is a scene straight out of a Connery-era Bond film.   

Breakfasting in Restaurant Arcadia on the twenty fifth floor that morning, the scene is even more reminiscent of Ian Fleming’s world. Instead of the expected clientele, the dining room is filled with high ranking men in uniform, from a dozen different countries – a military convention is being held at the hotel.

Then it is back to the reality; a morning of meetings with dairying and agribusiness companies at retro 50s offices and a tour through a milk processing plant.  There’s nothing quite like a long lunch after eight days of flights, early morning starts, marathon meetings and site tours. To that end, we catch a cab down to Mercado del Puerto and annex a table at a quaintly furnished Parrilla. We reach consensus on the grilled meat platter and place our order with the waiter. Words are inadequate to describe what arrives twenty minutes later, the photograph speaks for itself.  

“Serves 2″ was the note printed in the menu. There were three of us, and we didn’t even make it halfway through the frightening quantity of meat. Fries accompanied the platter, but a defibrillator would have been more poetically appropriate.

***

Lunch commemorates the end of the conference, I see my colleagues off, and switch faculty to the right hemisphere. Whittling away the hours wandering the streets of Montevideo, architectural character oozes from every edifice I pass. Cuidad Vieja (old city) is dominated by colourful, crumbling façades, rusted wrought iron, and dilapidated blocks sprouting with tendrils of plant life: a concrete jungle being reclaimed by nature.

Light fritters slowly away as the sun sets over the city. Back at the hotel, from my perch in the business lounge, I can hear someone playing the marble black Yamaha grand piano that sits in a large atrium adjacent to the lobby. Art exhibitions line the walls; by which tables of expatriates, socialites and military sit listening. Chandeliers bathe the space in a warm yellow light.

After filling my quota of emails, I order a drink and join the audience. A young couple tangos to the music emanating from the corner, where a trio of musicians play: one silver-haired Pianist sits at the Yamaha, and two further weathered gentlemen play supporting instrumentals. 

At nine, both the tango and my glass of Frangelico are drawing to a close, so I meander down to the basement. Typical of small hotel casinos, the seediness contrasts sharply with the elegant vibe of the lobby above. A large group of Japanese and Uruguayan men stand clustered around one of the roulette tables, laying frantic bets as the wheel spins. Wide-eyed gamblers sit idly in front of slot machines. Hostesses in tight uniforms flutter around with trays of drinks. Not quite the picture of sophistication.

***

13th September

Scenic countryside of green patchwork fields, dairy cows and gently rolling hills make the morning’s one hour bus trip from Montevideo to Colonia del Sacramento seem much longer. Arriving at the small town, I can’t decide which was more picturesque: the journey or the destination.

Colonia’s cobbled streets hark back to a bygone era. The city was established in 1680, and has a unique personality, having changed hands between the Spanish and Portuguese numerous times. Small enough to explore on foot, the village is a popular destination for holidaymakers from around South America, who sit, bantering cheerfully outside old-fashioned cafés and restaurants.

Faced with the perennial travelling dilemma of too many sights and not enough time, I acquire a scooter for the afternoon. Stephanie from the rental agency gives me a ten minute crash course, and within minutes, I’m cruising the route parallel to Mar del Plata, looking (I’d imagine) like a young hooligan. Between numerous detours for scenes that were calling to be photographed, I somehow end up in the grounds of the Sheraton where guests crawling around golf buggies give me dirty looks.

Four hours of motoring later, I regretfully return the scooter and hasten for the Buquebus terminal to catch the Patricia Olivia II to Buenos Aires. It is well into the evening as the high speed ferry drops anchor, so I drop my bags at the hostel, and dine on pizza and wine (32 pesos) at a bright red Trattoria. The day concludes to the sound of midnight traffic outside Hostel Esotril on Avenida Mayo.

***

14th September

Nine AM, I walk into the kitchen and am greeted by large plates, piled with medialunas (small, sweet croissants, ‘half-moons’ literally translated). Post that categorically unwholesome breakfast, I meet Marina and Francesco as I’m sitting in the lobby pondering how to spend the day. We get to chatting, and I ditch the guidebook in favour of a spur of the moment trip to San Telmo markets.

Avenida Defensa is a paradise of antiquities. On the main square, stalls of traders monger everything from coloured glass bottles to old German million Deutschemark notes. The thoroughfare is flanked on both sides by many an ornate antique shop, with entry only after ringing a bell and being permitted by the owner. Further still, the avenue morphs into a world of street performers and locals selling their leather and craft wares from wooden tables and blankets.

Experimentation with public transport consumes the remainder of the day. Among the more interesting destinations reachable using Buenos Aires’ subway: Congress, Casa Rosada (‘Pink House,’ Argentina’s Presidential palace), and Avenida Florida, a pedestrian mall with more stores than could be sensibly shopped in an afternoon.

I disembark the historic carriage at Sáenz Peña station and evaluate dinner options along Avenida Mayo. Restaurants in Argentina are normally deserted before eight, so I was drawn to the tables of a left-of-centre place called La Claca, which were showing some signs of life. Whilst the food was average, it was redeemed by a Jennie of respectable white for a comical $6.

***

15th September

Having accumulated a critical mass of knowledge about the subway system the day prior, I manage to make all the correct interchanges to Plaza Italia station without ending up at the end of a different line. From the plaza, it is a short walk to the primary target, Recoleta Cemetery, a fortress of the dead and perfect destination for an overcast day.     

Traversing the passageways of opulent burial chambers inadvertently dressed like Beetlejuice, I felt abnormally at ease. This leads to philosophising that perhaps I should’ve become a Crypt keeper – quite possibly the most elegant solution to my grievances with the living.

Of course, once speculation on such matters starts, it doesn’t stop until a suitable hypothesis is fashioned. To the question of why absurd amounts of money are spent on the dead, I could deduce three explanations. First, for man’s ability to convince himself of almost anything, it could be that lavishing excess upon a cadaver absolves guilt for the way it was treated whilst living. Second, out of a genuine respect for the deceased, despite it going against the grain of efficient resource allocation. Third, to reflect the life status of the deceased in death. Again, this is nonsensical as it’s hard to get utility out of anything material if you’re dead.

On a broader level, the central issue is the rationalisation of death. Crypts, funerals, cremations, wakes, vigils, eulogies, mourning, burials, the laying of flowers – all are rituals designed to shroud the turmoil and uncertainty of death in a veil of process and formality to make it more psychologically palatable. The follow-up question you need to be asking is whether the entire industry of religion is in fact the greatest swindle of all time.

***

That evening, as I’m being chivalrous wheeling Marina’s suitcase down to the cab, I meet Virginia, an old friend from back in the day when I studying at Penn in the States. A fellow student in the international program, now back home in Argentina, she’d graciously offered me to take me for an evening’s tour of Buenos Aires.

First stop is Café Tortoni, a famous coffee house founded in 1858, where the traditionally attired waiters served us chocolate accompanied by churros that were nothing short of adulation-worthy. Next stop is the stylish neighbourhood of Palermo, home of Argentina’s first Starbuck’s, outside which a long queue snakes its way into the shopping centre.

Dinner is at a random Parrilla: fillet steak, red wine and conversation at length on politics and economics. By the time the bill was called for, I’d had a crash course through Argentina’s economy (15% interest rates, 20% inflation, and an economic crisis every ten years), and further learned that Bank of America just bought out Merrill Lynch. We wrap up the evening with dessert at a trendy bar; dangerously rich creations known as ‘Chocolate Volcanoes,’ cone-shaped cakes of chocolate, filled with hot liquid fudge and served straight out of the oven.

***

16th September

My Lanpass gets clipped at Aeroparque for the next flight to Puerto Iguazú, the town on the Argentine side of the famous Iguazú falls where the borders of Argentina, Brasil and Paraguay intersect. A short bus ride from town lands me at Parque Nacional Iguazú, and I board the train to Garganta del Diablo (Devil’s throat), the most popular lookout. Here, a unique roar is created by torrents of water plunging across seven hundred meters of sheer cliff, and a rainbow from the mist as the water crashes on the rocks below.

The tranquillity is marred by large groups of tourists. They’re obnoxious, hunt (quite loudly) in packs, and walk terribly slowly, occupying the full width of walkways in the process. I am forced to practice politeness “puedo pasar por favor” in lieu of conveying my underlying meaning: “adelante! adelante! adelante!”

***

Nearing seven o’clock by the time I return to hostel Timbo Posada, the night shift guy Fernando is on the desk and we start talking in Spanglish about Yerba maté (Rosamonte is his recommendation), agriculture (intensive cane farming for ethanol production apparently leaves soil barren after two crop plantings), and restaurants. After consulting the Footprint guidebook for a second opinion, I order a plate of typical cuisine at Pizza Color: empanadas, chorizo, arroz and a Quilmes Stout. I detour to a corner store on the way back to purchase said Yerba Rosamonte, then sit in the hostel lounge drinking maté whilst watching National Geographic. Fernando is laughing like a lunatic as two bear cubs take down a baby wild boar.

***

17th September

Another day at Parque Nacional Iguazú to hike the two main trails, Superior (upper) and Inferior (lower) – which present compelling photo opportunities and vistas markedly more rewarding than the touristy Garganta del Diablo. I complete the circuits in faster time than anticipated, so resolve to do the 8km Macuco trail to round off the afternoon.

On the way up, I am delayed by a troupe of Argentinean schoolgirls (seeing an Australian must’ve been a novelty for them), but manage the 4km in just over forty minutes, finishing with a descent down a hazardous 400m trail to a pool at the foot of the falls, which warranted a slow trudge taking care to avoid low branches and jutting rocks.

Thoroughly exhausted, I catch the bus back to town and seek out one of those gruesomely large hamburgers which seem like a good idea at the time but you know you’ll regret afterward.

***

As I’m preparing my bags, I meet Emma at the hostel and am condemned with an all too short conversation before I have to cab it to the airport. She hailed from Queensland, recently had her quarter life crisis which resulted in a voyage to Asia the prior year, was currently in the last ten days of her five month trip, and, to my disbelief; she was only twenty. It always refreshing when I cross paths with such people – life is far too short to sit in a box.

***

Courtesy of the LAN flight being on schedule, I find myself back in Buenos Aires in good time for an evening’s layover, and book a remise into town. They set me up with a Black Citroën C4 (for which the famed robot commercials were made), complete with a digital speedometer and driver named Fabio. The former reads 122Km/h as the French motor careers uncompromisingly down the arterial. My mind is running at a similar velocity forward planning the logistical interchanges to get to Cusco, Peru the following morning.

***

18th September

In need of mental discharge, I watched a stop-frame animation, Corpse Bride, to kill flight time. In a similar vein to The Nightmare Before Christmas, Tim Burton effortlessly weaves macabre notions into fantasy animation to produce something flippantly entertaining, yet enveloping much thornier thematic ‘beneath the surface.’

Through the perilous tale of an arranged marriage set in a picture of Victorian era continental Europe, the film challenges customary views on life and death, light and darkness. We see ‘upstairs’ (world of the living), portrayed in bleak, dull shades of grey – cruel, cold and clinical. ‘Downstairs’ (world of the dead) is embodied with magnificent contrast – alive with melody and comedy, vibrant and colourful.

***

Lima International Airport was so lacklustre that my only memory of the place is impulse buying chorizo pizza sticks from Papa John’s. Fortunately it is only a couple of hours’ layover, and before long, I touch down in Cusco. Outside the arrivals checkpoint, there’s a driver holding a ‘Mr. Waterstone’ placard, courtesy of Hostel Recoleta. Arriving at the hostel, I am greeted with a large terracotta cup containing Coca tea, which is reported to help with the altitude adjustment. In a similar vein, I take three hours’ rest to acclimatise to the lower Oxygen concentration, and hit the streets circa six in search of rations.

Dinner is put on hold on account of aesthetic diversion, which called for a good hour wandering the cobbled streets aimlessly taking photographs. Cusco was the capital of the Incan Empire, and some of their stonework from the thirteenth century still stands, distinguished for its near perfect geometry. Exploring Cusco on foot is the very essence of Anthropological overload.

During the brief creative interlude, I’m stopped by a group of local children and a friendly flute-playing busker who exclaims “ey, you from the land of Oz!”   

Memory card nearing capacity, I resume my quest for supper and end up sampling a couple of local specialties – grilled Alpaca replete with a Pisco Sour, at a quiet little restaurant on Carmen Alto.

***

19th September

Benjamin Franklin clearly had no idea when he uttered “early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” There is nothing healthy nor wise about awakening whilst it’s still dark outside and I cannot for the life of me see how doing so benefits my asset portfolio.

Departing at daybreak, the PeruRail Vistadome voyage from Cusco to Aguas Calientes takes just over three hours complete. The train ascends slowly by switchback along a zigzagging track, a cleverly engineered solution to the otherwise impossibly steep gradient of the mountainous terrain. Flanking the tracks are scenes from a surreal world. Mud-brick houses, packs of stray dogs, straw shacks, and pairs of harnessed oxen tilling soil.

Aguas Calientes is a small village nestled among sheer mountains in the Sacred Valley of the Incas, is the final frontier before Machu Picchu. Very nearly nothing to do in town, I saunter around, requisition a computer for a few hours, and make occasion for a long dinner at the most expensive restaurant in the village, Indi Feliz, run by a Frenchman that does French-Peruvian fusion like nothing imaginable. For the princely sum of 44.50 Nueve Soles (A$18), I selected three courses from their unexpectedly diverse set menu.

For entrée, mixed vegetables with sour sauce made from Lime and some local spices. Carefully arranged on the oblong plate were carrots, broad beans, potatoes, champignons, avocado, onion, tomato and spinach. Pollo Piña, the main course, was a char-grilled fillet of chicken served in Jamaican Rum sauce with sauté pineapple, sweet potato, Spanish fried potatoes, fresh pineapple and a stuffed tomato. Rounding off the trio, a dessert of uncharacteristically rich orange pie with custard and orange sorbet.

***

20th September

Waking before dawn with the intention of catching the first bus to the ruins, I step out into light precipitation and start toward the bus stop. Though it is barely five o’clock in the morning, already a few hundred people mill around in line. A few enterprising locals work the queue selling overpriced bottles of water and sandwiches to absentminded tourists.

Shortly after I join the queue, a convoy of gold ducos approaches from the distance, the fleet of modified Mercedes-Benz coaches looking decidedly out of place in the tiny mountain village. Like clockwork, human cargo is loaded, and the queue quickly dwindles.

MarcoPolo #1 ascends the mountain, traversing the narrow, zigzagging dirt road and dodging oncoming buses with the deft skill of a driver who’s likely made this trip a thousand times before. Twenty minutes later, we disembark at Machu Picchu Sanctuary.

The experience of visiting this Incan Citadel cannot be understood adequately by anything less than standing somewhere in the vicinity of 13°10′00″ South by 72°33′00″ West. One feels awfully small standing on the edge of a stone step overlooking a valley far below, surrounded by imposing forested mountains.

Machu Picchu is among the few imperative destinations one should plan on visiting prior to dying. Though people go to admire the tribal fifteenth century architecture and marvel at the stunning natural vistas, the real energy courses through veins much deeper than the aesthetic. Over five hundred years ago, an intellectually and spiritually advanced culture existed in the dense South American jungle, and this city was its crowning achievement. Inca civilisation possessed medicine, astronomy, agriculture, engineering and social systems comparable in advancement to those of Renaissance Europe. Of vital difference was the overarching power of a simple governing moral code (do not steal, do not lie, do not be idle) which was more commonsensical than the contrived, fear-reliant, politically motivated hogwash that reflected religion back on the continent, or indeed the convoluted institution of law and religion that rule humanity today.

***

Between bouts of high-level philosophical cognition, I Circumnavigate the various circuits, accumulating photographs and stopping intermittently for bouts of high-level philosophical rumination. In one such bout of rumination (specifically how easy it is to control people who are afraid), who should I spot but my girl Marina, dressed in her trademark purple.

Marina is a highly spirited and entertaining young woman, almost a decade my senior, so naturally, I can’t resist the urge to adopt her. She jumps when I tap her on the shoulder, and turns from her tour group with a wicked grin “you little shit!” After a short yak, we farewell and part ways.

There is a long line at the gates to Wayna Picchu, the peak which overlooks the city and promises dreamlike vistas. By the time I sign in at the checkpoint, the mercury is pushing thirty as the sun ascends, now nearing vertical apogee. Five minutes of relatively undemanding trail, one could be forgiven for being presumptuous of an intermediate trek. Then, it begins: a gruelling climb grading over 200% (i.e. 65° inclines) in some segments which requires edging up very shallow stone steps and crawling through a narrow tunnel. Stopping to check my GPS at the summit, I am perplexed. It felt like an eternity since setting out, but the time mocks forty-one minutes. I was drained enough by the end of it that my brain had zero retentive power until the following morning.

***

 22nd September

There wasn’t a seat to be found on all train departures back to Cusco: a predicament given I had an early afternoon flight to make. “Improvise at all costs” is the mantra to enforce in such situations. An alternative route is formulated ad hoc, which sees me train it to Ollantaytambo, and continue to Cusco by taxi. For the record, ninety minutes in a cab with rigid suspension and a driver with a penchant for bad rock music is something I’d rather not have had to endure.

Arriving with a couple of hours up my sleeve, I go to store my bags at the hostel, and who should I bump into but Marina. After I get over the paranoia of her following me, we have brunch at a restaurant overlooking Plaza del Armas. Between us, we order a miniature banquet of Peruvian: potato empanada, an elaborate omelette, and a curious national dish named Cebiche – raw trout and seafood mixed with purple onion, spices and lemon juice, accompanied by white corn and sweet potato. 

***

“For you amigo, I give special price.” That was the catch cry of a vendor at Cusco’s artesian markets. With outstanding crafts at ludicrous prices, it wasn’t hard to walk out with five bags of merchandise for less than a hundred dollars. Among the acquisitions: two alpaca scarves in suitably ridiculous shades of baby blue and bright crimson, a woven wall-hanging, a white sweater with llamas embellishing the edges and an alabaster totem pole.

Turns out Marina and I were on the same flight to Buenos Aires, so we meet back at the hostel and share a cab to the airport. One short, uneventful flight later, at Lima, the real fun begins. We were so bored, we resolved to compile and execute a list of the top ten things to do when you have a seven hour layover at Lima airport, which goes something like this:

  • 1. Commandeer locutorio (internet lounge) terminals to watch ridiculous 80s music videos on YouTube
  • 2. Drink Iced Caramel Frappucinos from Starbucks whilst doing so
  • 3. Acquire and consume Pepperoni Pizza from Papa John’s
  • 4. Try to con your way into business lounges
  • 5. Get slugged US$30 in departure tax
  • 6. Sleep in departure terminal / babysit in departure terminal
  • 7. Muster up the courage to wrestle the lounge chairs from rude backpackers in Starbucks.
  • 8. Ask for Hyrdocortisone lotion (in Spanish) for Marina’s mosquito bites
  • 9. See who could spot the best looking member of the opposite sex
  • 10. Spot the most unique airport-seat lying down postures among fellow weary travellers

It speaks to the sheer tedium that I could only find the first six (Marina kindly contributed the balance). Sometime between midnight and one in the morning, we scrape ourselves off the seats and head for the boarding gate.

Lima to Buenos Aires is lengthened markedly by two very loud women rambling neurotically in Japanese, and LAN’s 3am serving of breakfast – a warm, soggy bread roll filled with what my gut instinct told me must’ve been cheese.

A final farewell at Ezeiza as Marina heads for the sea and sun of Rio de Janiero, and I to Bariloche, in sub-zero Patagonia.

  ***

Unfortunately, Barioloche being a small airport, there was no competitive market for cab fare price discovery (only one scalper quoting a suspiciously high offer). Fortuitously however, I chance upon a public bus, and get to the city centre for a fraction of the cost and reduced carbon footprint to boot.

  ***

 23rd September

Day eighteen: the novelty of bread for breakfast at hostels is beginning to wear thin. I toy with the idea of soaking it in coffee and refrigerating it to create sham Gâteaux, but abstain. Exploration calls.

San Carlos de Bariloche is a hidden jewel in the Patagonia region of Argentina. The small alpine town is positioned idyllically on the shore of Lago Nauhel Huapi and surrounded by a vast national park of the same name. Log buildings, tasteful eateries and the chocolate shops you’d expect to find in fictional literature.

I improvise Circiuto Chico (little circuit) into a short expedition using the public bus system and condense a day’s sightseeing into three hours, beginning with chairlift ride up Cerro Campanero with the smell of burning pine lingering in the air, and espresso at the summit to escape the icy winds. Continuing down Avenida Bastillo, I collect photographs of Eduardo Cathedral and Hotel Llao Llao along the way, and stop for a late lunch at El Tronador, a small Confiteria. Puerto Pañuelo, at the end of the road, is the checkpoint for the two o’clock sailing of Modesta Victoria to Parque Arrayanes and Isla Victoria.

***

What the Modesta Victoria lacked in speed, it made up for in charm. Built during the Second World War, it is a piece of living history, most everything is original and unspoiled by modern embellishment. 

First mooring is on the Quetrihue Peninsula, where a forest of centuries old Arrayanes grow in an eerie arboreal form.

Anchorage two was Isla Victoria – a tranquil island in the middle of the Patagonian wilderness, the kind of place from which Microsoft source picturesque desktop backgrounds. I manage to venture most of the mapped trails, and a few of the unmapped, before the Modesta Victoria’s foghorn breaks the serenity to signal her departure is eminent.

Having been blissfully detached from civilization for the vast majority of the day, I commissioned an ad-hoc social experiment to make up for it. I was curious to see if simple banter had any true communicative efficacy. To this end, I traded in my meal ticket for a bowl of half decent Penne with vegetable sauce, found a table where five other people sat conversing in English, and joined in. It stands to reason that I conclude in the negative. Writing one month to the day the experiment was performed, I can vividly recall what I had for dinner that night, but not so much as a single person’s name or occupation.

Returning from a midnight photography expedition that evening, the previously empty dormitory has been settled by three newcomers, one of whom sleeps breathing as deafeningly as a vacuum cleaner. I cursed not having saved my earplugs from the flight.

  ***

24th September

Improvisation is the order of the day as I hadn’t bothered researching Bariloche in enough depth to plan a proper itinerary. Vacuum cleaner rises a few minutes after I do, initiates a conversation with himself, and begins to curse in Spanish. We start discussing which sights to see, but something gets lost in translation.

Perusing the brochure in the lobby, I make a whimsical selection: horse riding. The instructor was a bit of a maverick, whilst doing the drill, he advises in a thick Spanish accent “rememberr, de steeck is de pow-err,” and proceeds to demonstrate by belting the animal with a two foot length of sapling. Whilst the flyer explained a very basic beginner’s ride, the reality was three hour trekking up a mountain, jumping over streams, scraping through thorny foliage and negotiating paths of crumbling rocks.

For the price of damage endured by my prized Windsor Smiths, the spectacular vista from the summit was worth it: serene lakes of dark teal, dense alpine forest, mountain peaks decorated with patches of snow.

***

Ardent on substantiating the superiority of the region’s famous chocolatiers, I pay visits to Frantom, Abuela Goye and Mamushka. After sampling the wares, which included the obligatory dark and white, a small block of Frutos de Bosque, and a hot chocolate, it was clear why guidebooks harped on about the chocolate in Bariloche – the quality is exceptional.

I’d anticipated having dinner at Chalet Suisse, an endearing restaurant in a Swiss country house, but it was regrettably closed. Fortunately, Refugio del Montañes, is just down the road, the commended Parilla doing an impressive Filet Mignon for 33 pesos (A$14).

***

25th September

Not being fond of lingering at the hostel for its final few hours in Bariloche, my camera went for a morning walk to capture some more random imagery. It was a pity said camera wasn’t on hand at the airport. Two hundred passengers and they chose my inconspicuous black suitcase to search. A policeman carefully examines my collection Peruvian stoneware. Satisfied I wasn’t a terrorist, they let me write the police report myself, and I make my flight with a literal minute to spare.

Three thirty that afternoon, I find myself once again in Buenos Aires, awaiting a connecting flight to Mendoza. Previous experience with the food at Aeroparque necessitated applying a contingency plan for my late lunch. I went outside and walked across the road to a park overlooking the sunken submarine in Mar del Plata. Not two hundred metres from the airport, there are men angling the murky brown waters of the river, couples snuggling on the grass, and an elderly gentleman dressed in white, selling ice creams from a polystyrene box clumsily attached to a rusty bicycle. Then, I spot what I was looking for – a riverside kiosk with a few locals loafing outside. Feeling audacious, I order the colossal ‘Hamburguesa Full.’ and take delivery of the heart attack sandwich shortly thereafter.

 ***

A young scruffy cabbie motions to me at Mendoza airport. Instinct told me he was a fast driver, so I cram my luggage into the back seat of the wrecked old Peugeot and commandeer the front. Anthropology’s definition needs to be rewritten to include riding in cabs with the windows wound down, listening to blaring Latino hip-hop and drag racing against commuters.

I arrive at Hostel Lao in good time for the wine tasting that evening, as Richard, a trainee sommelier from the South of London, hands me a glass of Rosé. Four reds and two whites from the region are discussed over the ensuing two hours, through the course of which, the difference between Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc is explained for the initiates.

***

26th September

Friday morning at Plaza Independencia, Mendoza, I sit on a park bench watching human traffic. Packs of youths wearing American sports apparel and sporting ghastly mullets, women strutting unnaturally – the same omnipresent noise. Forty minutes later, the signal: a blackbird extracts worms from the ground. Simultaneously, a public servant extracts garbage from the fountain across from my park bench.

As the dull shell of an oyster encases a brilliant pearl; bland, everyday occurrences are often infused with hidden wisdom. In likeness, to prise it open, a degree of effort must be sacrificed. The more valuable insights tend to be much harder to pry open, but the reward is always commensurate. For this reason, I whittle away hours of my life ruminating on park benches.

Philosophically, both blackbird and man are making their living, both expend time and effort working.  The blackbird cares only for survival and will stop when it is no longer hungry, but the man works to fill a bucket riddled with holes. I don’t need to elucidate how much weight this observation carries, it should be obvious. This fundamental difference between man and beast is the root cause of the absurdity with which we pursue life.

***

Content with the morning’s advancement in understanding, I continue walking without a destination. Some minutes later, I wander into a dilapidated rail yard, complete with overgrown tracks, decrepit, hollow engines with homeless people sleeping in them, stray dogs, and burnt, windowless buildings graffitied over. Oftentimes, such places conceal true artwork – images and prose that are products of genuine life wisdom as opposed to flippant expressionism.

Continuing the random thematic, I went back to the hostel and booked a paragliding jump, spur of the moment. Half an hour later, my feet leave the ground as I jump off a small Andean mountain for twenty minutes of flight.

***

Restaurant dining had become tedious by this stage of the trip, so I resolved to set myself a challenge. A culinary odyssey out to the local market to accumulate ingredients for a spontaneous dinner, ten minutes, ten pesos, no use of English or hand gesturing.

It was a passable success; the bag containing all the necessary materials for a makeshift pizza – five cherry tomatoes, a large Portobello mushroom, fifty grams of locally produced Gouda cheese and a particularly thick slice of meatloaf. Accompanied by a random selection of communal wines, it was a dining experience.

Surprisingly, many of the travellers at the hostel are well-versed in US politics, and I join them to watch the Presidential debate. I don’t know what was more painful – watching McCain blink and stumble his way through a string of rants so pitiful they didn’t actually qualify as rebuttal, or the knowledge that this man could be the next President of the United States.

***

27th September

Every trip has one of those days. Sixteen degrees, overcast and threatening to rain at any given moment – hardly optimal conditions for anything in the open air. Perfect though for lounging around at the hostel, distilling thoughts, and listening to an old UB40 album playing in the background.

By the time defragmentation had progressed to a satisfactory level, it was three in the afternoon.  Stepping out onto Avenida Rioja confirms my suspicion that siesta was still in full swing: the streets are empty, everything is closed save for a few souvenir shops. Between the hours of twelve and five on any given Saturday afternoon, Mendoza is a ghost town.

An evening prior, Josh and Linda, a honeymooning couple from the States, had prepared an industrial quantity of curried rice, a large, parched bowl of which was sitting in the fridge. Through some combination of my culinary dexterity and pure luck, a stock concocted from chicken, mustard seeds, soy sauce and polenta morphed it into a stew that fed six hostelling comrades.

 ***

28th September

Farewelling everyone at the hostel, the sun finally begins to set upon the adventure. Homeward bound after twenty-three days, I was looking forward to crystallising my experiences. But it wasn’t over yet, there was still one day ahead.

Coincidentally, Jessica, a young lady from America I’d met, was also bound for Santiago, so we share a cab to the bus terminal, and after sorting out a few ticketing dramas, we board the ten thirty Andesmar to Santiago de Chile.

Seven hours is a long time to sit on a bus, but the trip proved anything but boring. I was entertained by Jessica’s stories of her experiences teaching English in Santiago and random conversation. We engaged topics of culture, politics, economics, career paths, and after struggling for some time, even managed to recall the seven sins.

Photo opportunities abounded with the impressive scenery crossing the Andes; bleak ochre faces of rock on the Argentine side, metamorphosing into ski slopes between jagged peaks, melting into richly coloured countryside on the Chilean front.

Crossing the border, I met Rita and her sister Maria, a couple of fellow Australians travelling with their father. Chatting to Maria as we were being processed through customs, the conversation moves from her unusual purple leather and suede handbag to her ethos – an open perspective on life and not wanting to be held down.

Before boarding the bus, I spend my remaining Argentine currency on a numinous empanada at the border station. Numinous, because, of the odd dozen empanadas I’d had in South America, this particular one, from a remote outpost in the Andes, was by far the best – a peerless masterpiece of pastry if ever there was one.

***

Originally, there was to be a prolonged layover in Santiago awaiting the evening flight out at quarter to eleven. Instead, Jessica gives me a guided tour of the city. We drop the luggage at her apartment, meeting Oscar the concierge on the way, and hit the streets for a whirlwind expedition.

Assisted by the subway system, an entire day’s exploring is condensed within the frame of three hours. Jessica expertly points out historic buildings, and we discuss the military coup, power distances, and differences in opportunity in the lulls between sights. Whilst discussing how to solve the power distance problem, she produces a prodigious analogy: something along the lines of the average cute guy being an arrogant jerk, but the cute guy who used to be the fat kid being nice. Framed in context; the only avenue to resolution was the installation of a leader who knew powerlessness intimately.

***

Plaza de Armas is a nexus of activity. An outdoor mass is being given in front of the cathedral, to a crowd waving white handkerchiefs en masse. Athwart, a large pagoda hosts a dozen tables of old men attentively betrothed in chess matches. Nearby, a demonstration of students snakes its way through the streets, and the ornately costumed couples dance the Cueca, Chile’s national dance.

In exhaustion, we shelve plans for dinner out and opt instead to hit up the local Domino’s. Jessica stands by the door laughing as I order and attempt to elucidate that we wanted the pizza sans olives and ham.

Grocery shopping at the nearby supermarket fills the twenty minute pizza spawning time, and we return to her apartment to have dinner. There is something indescribably satisfying about indulging in unwholesome rations after a long day on the road.

At eight thirty, I exchange the last of my South American currency – 12,000 Chilean Pesos for a taxi to the airport.

***

September 29th

…Is forever lost in the ether upon crossing the international date line.

September 30th

I collect thirty one kilograms of luggage at Tullamarine. The weight of my experience is beyond measure.

Gaucho Rides Again

The author has a propensity to venture out to Spanish (or Portuguese) speaking countries to pick up more clips of ammunition when the need arises.

All these base are belong to us:

  • Santiago, Chile
  • Sao Paulo, Brazil
  • Brasilia, Brazil
  • Barreiras, Brazil
  • Montevideo, Uruguay
  • Colonia, Uruguay
  • Buenos Aires, Argentina
  • Puerto Iguazu, Argentina
  • Lima, Peru
  • Cusco, Peru
  • Aguas Calientes, Peru
  • Machu Piccu, Peru
  • San Carlos de Bariloche, Argentina
  • Mendoza, Argentina

Gunslinging shall resume upon my return in October.

 

Image: Gaucho by Perselus, on DeviantArt

Bucket Logic / Waterstone’s Continuum of Needs

Some time ago, I published The Pyramid as an adjunct to Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. It was one of the more subjective analyses I’d penned, but strangely, also the most popular. Never able to linger idly, the cogs of my subconscious grind away in perpetuity on the entire library of this journal. Understanding is motive, and the more a man learns, the less he knows. Presenting something of an offshoot to Maslow’s Hierarchy: the continuum of needs.

Again, the impending analysis will take elements from a slew of prior pieces, and seek to integrate conceptually, borrowing and melding concepts of economics, sociology, psychology and philosophy. Whilst I’d previously understood nearly all the ‘pieces’ in isolation, they were as a collection of glass shards. The precipitating factor which allowed their fusing into a single pane on my mind’s window was Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged, a treatise on Objectivism which yields uncanny insight into many aspects of the human condition.

The Pyramid classes needs as building upon one another, beginning with the rudimentary, corporeal needs such as sustenance at the bottom, through the upper reaches of the ethereal and esoteric. The Continuum recognises this logical progression, but overlays additional dimensions for degrees of fulfilment and the rationale driving the need. Further, this new framework is capable of emulating an economic model because it also reconciles the value we ascribe to fulfilling our needs.

At the core of the continuum concept is the linearity of progression from one extreme to the other. With respect to the fulfilment of needs; our scale starts at simple and proceeds through to the highly complex.

Bucket Logic

As human beings, we can look at our needs in life as a collection of empty buckets. Our implicit aspiration is twofold: to fill as many of these buckets, as fully as we can. Generally speaking, our buckets bear the same labels as everyone else’s: ‘love,’ ‘belonging,’ ‘material wellbeing,’ and the like. Each bucket or need is distinct, although they can often be filled using the same liquid (i.e. perhaps ‘love’ and ‘happiness’).

We differentiate individuals by the relative sizes of these buckets. Some people have a large ‘material wellbeing’ bucket and a comparatively smaller ‘philanthropy’ bucket. A criminal might have a huge ‘physical gratification’ bucket and an infinitesimal ‘moral justice’ bucket – there are variations as numerous and diverse as people on this Earth.

Moving back to the bucket system; Maslow’s hierarchy identifies/labels the buckets broadly and suggests the order in which they ought to be filled. This is important in its own right, but limited because many important questions go begging. For example, the hierarchy cannot tell us why bucket sizes vary between people, nor does it shed any light on the interrelationships between the needs or ‘bucket dynamics.’

A more powerful model is needed, because (among other things), as we start to fill these buckets, they often get bigger: the central premise underpinning the continuum. Needs are relative and dynamic pursuits which don’t yield to order and rationality.

Waterstone’s Continuum

First, we’ll wrestle with the issue of relativity. The size of the bucket defines the relative importance of the need and influences both how far we are willing to go, and how much we are prepared to expend to satisfy that need or fill the bucket. We will work under the assumption of four bucket sizes: Regular, Tall, Grande and Venti. Any semblance to Starbucks’ coffee pricing system is purely coincidental. Each bucket size has a corresponding degree attached to the need. They are, in order: (1) Utility, (2) Gratification, (3) Projection, and (4) Validation.

The best way to understand these degrees is their alignment to the type and value of benefit satisfying the need or (filling the bucket) confers upon the individual. We’ll employ this method using the category of food, and then see how it can be applied across other categories.

1. Utility (Regular)

At the basic level we have utility needs or anything that can be deemed an existential necessity to some degree. Objects satisfying utility needs proffer no significance or value beyond or greater than fulfilling/serving/performing a basic purpose or function. Bread, by way of example, is a utility-level solution to the need of sustenance which we articulate as hunger. As you eat the slice of bread, you don’t construe any value over and above it satiating your hunger – the value corresponds directly to utility of purpose. The bread satisfies hunger and provides sustenance.

2. Gratification (Large)

Moving up the scale, these needs morph into gratification needs, which are merely extensions of their utilitarian counterparts, augmented by ancillary dimensi0ns. Falling into this category are objects which bestow value greater than pure utility, often in the form of sensory pleasure. Pandering for food, were we to shun the bread in favour of a Big Mac, this would be a gratification-level solution. Incremental value is derived from the degree of difference in sensory experience because the Big Mac tastes better than the slice of bread. The Big Mac satisfies hunger, provides sustenance, and also grants contentment from taste (debateable depending on personal preference). This additional contentment benefit necessarily makes the object more valuable, and our need for gratification justifies willingness to pay a higher price.

3. Projection (Grande)

Further still, the point is reached where the need rises to a level of projection. Here, the scarcity and/or exhibitive aspects of the object create projection value. Projection value is intrinsically specious as it cannot be quantified nor held against any objective standard. It exists by virtue of man being a social creature and is a function of perception. Keeping with our food analogy, let’s say we indulged by dining on Filet Mignon at an expensive French restaurant. A third degree of value is derived from the positive feeling of radiating ‘superiority’ in some capacity. As a general rule, if the object is conventionally used to rank status, then projection value will reflect how much the object distinguishes – the more it shows you’re better than the crowd, the higher the willingness to pay.

4. Validation (Venti)

The highest level of need is validation. At this extreme, value assumes a fourth degree; that of self-worth, and the object or act of fulfilment defines character. Unfortunately I can’t think of any real-life instance where validation is achieved through food, unless Popeye the Sailor Man actually exists, in which case spinach would be denoted validating – because without it, Popeye simply wouldn’t be Popeye.

Perhaps a more intuitive way to look at it is through deprivation. Validation being a rationalisation for existence of one’s being, the object of fulfilment fuses as a core element of identity. The things that fulfil our validation needs make us who we are.  Take away the object of fulfilment and we cease being ourselves by our definition. Love tends to have this effect and is a validating object precisely because of our enormous willingness to pay. Collectively, quantities of energy, compromise and commitment that evade quantification are bartered for a degree of shared identity. When a relationship dissolves, the value of this shared identity evaporates. Anyone who’s been madly in love and subsequently been heartbroken would tell you they felt they’d lost part of themselves.

*

Having established the framework, we can apply it to virtually any need category, such as transport in the form of automobiles:

There is an obvious correlation between the need levels and willingness to pay for the corresponding fulfilment objects. As value increases, so too does the amount of money, time and energy we are prepared to forfeit for the object.

*

Taking a step back, we can conceptualise the four tiers as corresponding to the concentric circles of physical, mental, emotional and ‘spiritual’ (in the definitive sense) in the diagram below. Physical needs are most often utilitarian in nature, gratification is a mental concept, emotion underpins the function of projection, and most measures of validation default to spirituality. Utilitarian needs are redundant in absence of a body, as are gratification without the mind, projection without emotion, and validation without spirit. These four linkages yield a normalised system for categorising needs: physical needs such as sustenance and shelter being classed under ‘utility’ and so on.

 

Another interesting feature of the continuum is its ascending degree of obscurity, and therein incidence of confusion. Physical needs are straightforward – you eat when you’re hungry and sleep when you’re tired. Mental needs are complex, but still relatively commonsensical – you read a book or have a conversation if your mind is bored.

At some juncture between the mental and emotional domains, the blurring begins as the single stream branches out into countless capillaries, much like a river’s delta. Whilst physical and mental needs are predominantly homogeneous, emotional and spiritual needs are the opposite.

The first two categories of need are defined predominantly by human biology – we are utilitarian creatures, separated from other animals by an advanced consciousness which allows us to seek gratification.  By contrast, the latter two (projection and validation) are a product of environment, upbringing, social conditioning, experience, individual preference, values and chance.

Analysis:  Projection

To impart an example, let’s first look at the operational dynamics of projection. Being an emotion-based need, projection is invariably subjective because the emotional linkages and triggers are set by external context. Associative variability is enormous – some cultures mourn death, others celebrate it, the mourners associate death with negative emotion, and the celebrators with positive emotion.

In the same way, the objects which fulfil our projection needs vary considerably due to myriad external factors. I may wear a Versace suit or drive around in a Ferrari to fulfil my projection need of demonstrating superiority in a modern capitalist society. Were I a constituent of a tribal clan however, that projection need to demonstrate superiority would be fulfilled more appropriately by battle scars and parading remnants of beasts I’d slain.

Evidently, the labels upon, and the liquids that fill our projection buckets are largely defined externally, though we can choose to reject and replace them with our own. There is no absolute, objective rule that tells me I must have expensive possessions, a prestigious job and be surrounded by beautiful people to fulfil the core emotional/projection need of espousing superiority. Those ‘objects’ are merely generally accepted defaults that have significance only because enough people perceive them as demonstrative and believe them to be important. As objects, they are the arbitrary outcome of a single developmental trajectory. Were society’s evolution more backwards, it would still be physical strength that determined projected status; and were society more advanced, it’d likely be some measure of enlightenment or wisdom.

The jury is out on exactly what should ‘fill’ projection buckets, but the current standard strikes me as odd, given zero correlation between a person’s wealth/occupation/social prowess and their comparative intrinsic value to society. Though human beings are equal by virtue of mortality, licenses for projection should be awarded on merit as measured against objective principles rather than circumstantial characteristics. Absurdity is a monarch esteemed with the highest regard, for being born into the title.

Analysis:  Validation

Such is the general obsession with demonstrating social value that objects of projection often transgress the final frontier and become objects of validation. More disturbing however, is the increasing propensity to validate on hollow or otherwise specious objects. We use the term ‘objects’ loosely to convey any inanimate object, entity, characteristic, intangible, value, act, association or notion to which an individual links their identity. Friendship group, occupation, nationality, partner, family, car, sex (adj. and v.), skill, religion, intelligence, opinion, money, class, morality – all are objects of validation.

Without validation, there is no reason to exist: it is fundamentally our internal ratification behind the act of living. Semantics tells us that ‘validation’ is transposable with ‘authentication,’ whose past tense denotes something has been verified as genuine.

The most ‘genuine’ and ‘real’ people I’ve crossed paths with have had one thing in common. Although many of the objects enumerated above were important to them, their validation rested foremost on unswerving principles. Historically, you will find the most admirable figures have reflected this devotion to their principles. The heroes of literature and film are the characters willing to make sacrifices and die for their principles. Every social, economic and political construct that has ever improved the quality of human life has been based on principles. Ideally, the nature of these principles should emanate from objective virtues such as integrity and justice: two foundation metrics of worth.

Principles have three differentiating attributes which separate them from all other objects of validation: they are endogenous, controllable and stable. True independent capacity rests solely on these metrics. In validating your identity on anything environmental, outside your control or volatile, you become a whimsical function of the world around you. The question then becomes one of how long you can fool yourself and forestall a crisis of identity. Bar a life of blissful ignorance, it will eventually catch up.

Substance of character is an outcome of validation object. Time and again, I have witnessed incidences that attest to this linkage. Some months ago for example, I was close to a divorce case whereby one of the divorcees had committed substantial fraud in proceedings, which was supported by the false testimony of each member of the family who took the stand. This exemplified the common phenomenon of a secondary validation object being upheld against objective principle. Many people are deluded by a mindset based on the axiom “blood is thicker than water,” and fail to reconcile that undermining principle for the sake of tainted blood is among the most grievous betrayals of morality. In this case, the subversion of integrity was a direct reflection of amoral character.

Where we have a choice, principles should be the liquid that fills our validation bucket. It is a minefield because it’s all too easy to fall into the trap of allowing collective principle as a substitute for objective principle, which is where social expectations and the law become relevant. Law presents an impediment to principle because not all law is just nor equitable in a strict sense. Therefore to the extent we obey those laws which fit this category, we can never be truly validated on principle. On the flipside, we are compelled because we cannot live in society unless we abide, so principle is inevitably frustrated by this Catch 22.

*

Classically defined, ‘need’ can be something of a misnomer. Existence requires but a few basic objects such as food and shelter. – the only true needs. Ancillary desires of gratification and projection which aren’t necessities for survival are more aptly termed ‘wants.’ Finally, to the extent psychological health is important; objects of validation are salient for they underpin survival in a social and emotional context.

Life is short and we are perpetually constrained by limitations of time and energy. The buckets we concentrate our efforts upon reveal our subconscious perception of meaning and purpose in life. The liquids we fill them with determine the fulfilment and contentment we attain. Have you checked yours lately?

Music

Casting my eyes around the carriage on the train home last week, something I’d always been oblivious to struck me. Half the passengers had black or white cords coming out of their ears. This analytical venture spans unique yet interweaved facets: music’s modern role as a device of escapism, and as a modus operandi to character evaluation.

Music Montage

***

Part 1: Music & Escapism

Over the last few decades, the way we live has been fundamentally altered by modern technology. At the practical end of the spectrum, two prominent devices – the computer and mobile phone, have revolutionised the way we do things and how we connect with each other. Outside ergonomics and communication, technology has also brought us purely utilitarian entertainment devices: the ancestral boom-box, Walkman and Discman for example.

Following the cords to the other end inevitably leads to the latest generation ‘MP3′ or ‘Ipod. One could argue these ubiquitous devices have impacted lifestyle as invasively as the computer, for no other reason than they’ve made music accessible to the masses: anytime and anywhere.

You don’t tend to give music much thought as you plug in your earphones to listen to Flo-Rida when Connex delays your train. Music is a mechanical response and popular solution to dead time. Accumulated waiting in post office queues and unavoidably occurring on commutes to and from occupations of person, dead time has passed whenever you find yourself thinking “damn, I’m never going to get those fifteen minutes of my life back.” Personally, I endure about forty minutes on a daily basis. This has been known to rise to a hundred if meeting with certain members of the stockbroking fraternity.

As we struggle with increasingly demanding lifestyles and a distinct lack of time to support them, dead time adds to the overburden. Nonetheless, there are ways of putting ‘dead time’ to some measure of purpose. Aboard my morning train for example, I have a few options:

  • Read a book/newspaper/magazine
  • Attempt to sleep
  • Observe people
  • Introspect/think
  • Listen to Music

The list isn’t exhaustive but the important thing to note is that they all (aside from sleep and music) require a degree of cognitive effort. Introspection is particularly perilous because when the mind is left to its own devices, it defaults either to fantasies or to worries that are normally repressed when we’re focused or engaged, and drift to the surface when the mind is idle. Our need to displace this tendency has given rise to many a case of workaholism. Given dead time has strong potentiality to induce anxiety, we understandably need to fill the lull. In this regard, music has absolute advantage on three dimensions:

Cognitive Effort

Using a psi-cost framework, music is net positive because it actually preserves mental energy. If we think of a computer in stand-by mode, it still draws and uses power. The human mind operates on a similar premise: even when we’re idle, mental energy is being consumed. To the extent listening to music reduces cognitive intensity by distracting us from thinking; it effectively puts our computer into a state of ‘hibernation’ where power consumption is further reduced.

Aural Pacification

Specifically, music invokes dual effects of distraction and gratification, which cumulatively reduce the mind’s stress load. Building on the above, music is more than a loose term attached instrumental sounds mashed with vocals and samples.

We define music (from racket) by those tunes we perceive as being melodic or harmonious. This perceived acoustic harmony permeates sensory gratification. Whenever one of our senses encounters positive stimuli, it induces a broader calming effect – i.e. the gratification element. Further, we get the pacification effect of blocking out noise. Noise in this instance is the visual and aural garbage we are bombarded with – the occupational hazard of living in a modern wasteland. The difficulty filtering, processing and interpreting noise and associated complexity make it exasperating to deal with.

Music has the unique ability to drown out the aural component of noise. It is direct, simple, and stipulates no requirement for filtering/screening. Whereas noise is inconsistent and confusing, music has a designated emotive outcome (although volatile across genre), which holds internally consistent with respect to processing. Consider the example of classical music versus a conversation. A conversation must be processed and filtered, and further, subjective judgement applied in order to extract a ‘signal’ (i.e. the message) from the background noise. With music however, there is no such processing – notes and lyrics are generally undemanding.

Escapism Effect

Via distraction circuit or evocation, music provides an avenue of escape from life’s anxieties. Through the message or signal element of music, the nebulous logic coagulates. If a song conveys an ‘uplifting’ message it will most certainly have an uplifting emotive outcome. By the same token, if a song conveys an ‘aggressive’ or ‘depressive’ message, we’d expect equivalent emotive outcomes. 

Imagine for a moment an unconfident student about to sit an exam, and he’s sitting outside the assessment centre listening to ‘Eye of The Tiger.’ The designation for the song is to evoke confidence, and to that extent, it is an elicited effect. Ceteris paribus, he will likely walk in more confident having listened to that song than if he hadn’t.

Where a song’s designation is targeted toward a particular mood or emotion, then we have reasonable ground to construe that same emotion will be evoked to some degree in a critical mass of people, either on a primary or secondary level. Techno/dance/trance group genres have no obvious primary emotional designation, but they do have secondary effect on certain demographics. Evidently, the average young man would be predisposed to hooliganism and driving faster with high-bpm techno blaring against the control state of silence.

Part 2: Music & Character Evaluation

Building on the notion that songs are charged with emotive designation, it follows (insofar as emotion is a defining trait) a person’s taste in music is instrumental to revealing who they are.

A forewarning that developing the underlying theoretical matrix was an exercise in inductive reasoning and required very broad generalisations. Consequently, the resulting insights and extrapolations, whilst functional, are less than perfect.

***

Imagine having to choose between four prospects for a blind date, which we’ll ascribe androgynous names: Alex, Sam, Shannon and Val. As a proviso, the only type of information you’re given about them concerns their taste in music:

  1. Alex: My Chemical Romance
  2. Sam: Rick Astley
  3. Shannon: Ice Cube
  4. Val: Frank Sinatra

Given that small piece of information, we will draw on our mental lexicon, make speculative inferences, and finally ascribe traits to the person which reflect the linkages we perceive between the brand of music and personality characteristics that relate to it.

  • My Chemical Romance – alternative, rebellious, emotive
  • Rick Astley – expressive,
  • Frank Sinatra – old fashioned, mellow, conservative
  • Ice Cube – brazen, aggressive, blunt

For example, were I told I’d been set up on a date with a young lady whose favourite artist and song was Britney Spears and The Pussycat Doll’s ‘Don’t Ya’ respectively, I would likely run for the hills or ensure I went on said date equipped with enough chloroform to knock out a bear and make a clean getaway. By contrast, were the mystery woman to reveal she was partial to the voice of Julie London, I’d have to seriously consider substituting inordinately expensive red wine in place of the chloroform.

***

For a bit of fun (I use the term loosely) last week, I was contemplating the tentative correlations between a person’s taste in music and their underlying emotional profile.

Being in possession of very little time, I continually strive to improve the efficiency element to things I do. Presently, a number of my endeavours involve making assessments of character: the process of which invariably takes a great deal of time and effort. Shortcuts in this regard have never served me particularly well, because for every cutback in time and effort expended, there’s always a disproportionate loss of precision.

The end we are trying to achieve is to break through the myriad of layers a person surrounds/barricades themselves in to shield the core aspects of their personality and those they feel most vulnerable about. Through customary means, this is exceptionally arduous as one must take care to balance inquisitiveness with diplomacy. Probing overzealously isn’t intrinsically wrong, but it alienates and can bring about hostility.  

Therefore, when meeting anyone new, it is always worthwhile casually engaging inexplicit topics, such as musical preference. Usually the resistance to yielding this information is negligible, though there is a propensity to avert telling the truth where the person believes their taste in music won’t be looked favourably upon. (E.g. trying to impress a young peroxide bombshell with Oompa Loompa orange complexion by telling her you enjoy the symphonies of Beethoven.)

Musical taste is by far the number one directly observable and easily discovered attribute amenable as a proxy for personality. Of course we are making an explicit assumption that the person’s favourite songs are also those that are the most meaningful to them on a personal level, which isn’t always the case – but more often than not, incredible insight is afforded.

People often define themselves or their situation with ‘theme’ songs which are used to reflect emotion to the outside world. The practice is widespread on sites such as MySpace, where the chosen song will play as background to the individual’s profile page. Such theme songs present an especially interesting proposition to the analyst. I can posit with high conviction that if someone defines themselves using ‘Unwell’ by Matchbox Twenty, it indicates an inclination to self-pity. Gary Jules’ ‘Mad World’ is another song which commonly advocates this inclination.

Part of our judgements of character are based on musical preference, though it seldom goes deeper than the denoting similar taste in music as a positive/good thing.

When we take the analysis up an octave, and acknowledge it is plausible to match various songs, artists and genres with corresponding attributes of emotional profile and personality, there is often a realisation of uncanny accuracy. Looking at people I’ve grown to know over months and years, and the early conversations, it is amazing how much about them was said silently by their musical taste. A dirty shortcut it may be, and however limited, the efficacy of musical taste as a proxy for personality is undeniable. It’s saved me more than once.

Perspective

In the space of the last 28 days, I have reached the milestone of 22 (37 using my counting system), watched the values of investments decline by six figures, spent four times that on residential investment property, and come to the conclusion that I am getting old. Considerably so. Given it has been a blockbuster month, it is both fitting and in the interest of thematic justice that this be a blockbuster piece of speculative analysis:

*

In the art world, perspective pertains to the way objects are perceived by the eye. This definition parallels in the real world, save it concerns anything potentially subjective as perceived by the individual’s mind. The realms of philosophy and psychology append numerous other dimensions to this working definition, yielding ‘individual perspective’ – how an individual perceives an event, situation, concept or entity and its associated attributes. How this perspective is shaped, and hence, the resulting perception, is determined by such elements as profundity, temporality, plasticity and cognitive bias.

It will be the mandate of this analysis to explore the component parts of individual perspective, and its inherent variability among people; thereby shedding light upon such abstruse questions as why something which is distasteful to one can be beautiful to another.

A Foray into Perspective

First and foremost, perspective is a transitory model that allows an absurd universe to be transmuted into something to which we can attach meaning, thought, emotion, and action. Without it, the links in the chain from cause (stimulus) to primary effect, to interpretation, to secondary effect (feedback) would simply not exist.

A simple anecdote illustrates how crucial this chain is. Whilst sitting on a park bench one dark evening, something out of a tree above falls onto you. This occurrence is the cause or stimulus which initiates the chain. The moment you feel it, you are instantaneously startled (the primary effect). Within a fraction of a second, you experience discomfort/fear as the interpretation of potential danger has been triggered (the interpretation). Then, you swiftly react, brushing whatever it is off you with a sweep of the hand (the feedback). Now, the something that fell may have been a harmless leaf, or something more sinister, perhaps a spider.

Perspective is first activated immediately after stimulus, and hence directs the primary effect, interpretation and feedback. To demonstrate, we will place two different people in our park bench experiment: Yogi, who by happenstance is an expert yogi, and Mukesh, a clinical paranoid. We invoke the suggestion of stereotype to deduce their reactions. Yogi pays no heed and continues his peaceful evening contemplation. Mukesh yelps in shock and jolts about violently to get whatever it is off.

Their divergent reactions are observable products of perspective. Yogi has established a perfunctory interpretation process which evaluates stimulus impartially, thereby making his perspective neutral. Mukesh’s interpretative process on the other hand, is driven by an obsessive suspicion (the world is out to get him); a suspicion echoed by negative perspective.

Though the above example is brusque, it vividly shows the significance of perspective in everyday life. Perspective is the magic pair of glasses through which we each see the world around us in our own unique way.

External Variability

When the perspective governing a painting’s elements is askew, even a layman notices something isn’t quite right. Where the question pertains to people however, we cannot apply the same logic. Objectivity is central to any analysis of perspective. If we were all objective and unbiased, we’d all see things the same. But look at a picture from an angle and it becomes skewed.

Put another way, true perspective (as in a painting depicting a real life scene) is rigid by definition as it must reflect an objective reality. For example, two apples, one near and one far, must be depicted such that the apple closest is larger. If the rule of perspective is broken, the painting capitulates from realist to abstract.

Human perspective works differently because it operates on subjective interpretation; which is to say there is no ‘correct’ way to perceive certain things, and therefore an array of alternate perceptions/angles exists. Despite this array, one ‘angle’ of perception often dominates, from which excessive divergence is socially estranged. By way of example: a moral ‘angle’ dominates matters of human life; in that loss of life is acknowledged as bad. Yet from an amoral, purely pragmatic angle, loss of life can be rationalised as beneficial: reducing the ratio between people and finite resources, easing strain on the ecosystem.

The point of the matter: there is an obvious value judgement which is subjective across people and, in the absence of an objective, ‘correct’ perception (i.e. water is wet), perspective must be variable.

1. Profundity

Profundity, the first metric instituted to shape perspective, is best described as the convergence of depth and breadth. A ‘profound’ perspective necessarily must be comprehensive across both these dimensions.

Breadth (broad versus narrow)

Expansive consideration is the hallmark of broad perspective, and the breadth of one’s perspective is observed through the range of angles one considers. Breadth is a central quality of perspective because it has direct recourse to accuracy of perception. Let’s say you were looking to purchase a house. Would you buy it after driving past and seeing the beautiful façade? Of course not, that would be foolish – you would take it upon yourself to walk around the house, and inspect each room inside; taking in as many angles as possible before making your evaluation and decision.

Situations, people, anything subject to perception is governed by this same tenet of breadth. A broader perspective will always dominate a narrow one by virtue of the narrow perspective being limiting. Metaphorically, it can be illustrated by the analogy of shooting at an invisible target. If you can’t see it or don’t know where it is, the scattered pellets of a shotgun will have more chance of hitting than a single bullet from a revolver.

Where we only consider one angle, our level of understanding is impaired, less is our tolerance for differing perspectives and greater is our propensity to err in judgement and action based on that perspective. Perilous it is to be of narrow mind.

Depth (deep versus superficial)

Depth of perspective is something I constantly get hung up on. It is a foregone conclusion with a great many people whose paths I cross: to look down the rabbit hole, it seldom seems to go very far. When one stops to consider how insidious shallowness has become, it’s hard not to be unnerved.

In the absence of depth, meaning is lost. We live in a universe almost infinite in its intricacy, and the nature of a lazy being is to simplify and rationalise this complexity away to make the world easier to understand, and life easier to cope with. The trade-off of doing this is that we become ignorant, one-dimensional, and cease to grow. Superficiality necessitates not pursuing understanding beyond a rudimentary level, but depth is consecutively asking: ‘why?’ to the nth degree. Evolution of thought and understanding revolves around this premise, for if we did not seek deeper, we would not discover.

Notwithstanding its crucial nature, depth bears a hidden price. It comes at an exponentially increasing psi cost. To move away from simplicity and toward the complex, greater cognitive endeavour is required. Much like solving progressively convoluting algebraic expressions, more variables must be taken to account, and as the level of depth increases, so to do the iterations and permutations of thought. Deep-sea diving apparatus is a thousandfold more expensive than a snorkel.

When this notion of cost is coupled to perspective and human nature, it reveals why superficiality dominates, and will continue to dominate in general society. Questioning, challenging, seeking, interrogating, analysing, exploring – the instruments of depth; are time and energy intensive. Submissively accepting and embracing the shallow offers a comparatively effortless alternative that’s conducive to modern indolence. Under superficial perspective, appearance is used as a proxy indicative of character, stereotypes are applied without thought, and understanding is cast into the fugue of ignorance.

Collectively, breadth and depth engender profundity. Conjure an image of someone you know, distinguished by the narrow and shallow. Now think about how they perceive the world around them, and you will see the weight of profundity carries in perspective.

 2. Temporality

Three temporal frames affect perspective: past, present, and future. Though each of the three have their advantages, none can be viewed as dominant in isolation when held against their respective shortcomings. Perspective is optimised when it is not unduly and excessively influenced by one temporal frame over the others. As with most things, equilibrium is achieved when the forces are in balance.

Past Temporal Frame  

Retrospect is one of the most useful tools in life. Though a rear-vision mirror doesn’t help us anticipate what’s ahead, it does serve to remind us where we’ve been, and the learning from our past experience often shields us from making the same mistakes repetitively. The inherent danger of course, is that one becomes so engrossed in the past that one ceases moving forward and fails to absorb new circumstances and their current reality.

Anchoring oneself to the past is a sure fire way to lay waste to existence. Whilst dwelling on positive memories can endow us with inspiration, the temptation to cross from dwelling to residing can become toxic: especially so when there is significant disparity between one’s present reality and the opiate history being mentally rerun. Evidently, the danger is the past becoming an avenue for escapism – an easy way out that allays negative reality (albeit illusorily), thereby dispiriting one from acknowledging and attempting to move past that adverse reality. A good dream imbues resistance to waking up.

Present Temporal Frame 

Shared by many who subscribe to a ‘live for the day’ philosophy is a perspective disproportionately weighted toward the present. At face value, the concept of not having a care in the world and simply enjoying the moment has tremendous allure – all the more where the anxiety of living is becoming increasingly oppressive. However, such a mindset is prone to profligacy and recklessness: direction and sense of purpose are lost. Were civilisation to live strictly in the present, external consequence would necessarily be trivial, and would therefore be ignored. When the future is not a matter of concern, the propensity to take risks, inflict harm and do morally questionable things increases exponentially.

For the purpose of simplicity, take two criminals, who are carbon-copies, identical twins if you will; who committed the same grievous crime. By quirk of their cases being assigned different judges, one is given ten years but is eligible for parole in two. The other is sentenced to death via lethal injection in two days’ time. Let us assume we release both for a period of twenty-four hours and that they cannot avert their sentences. Under the scenario stipulated, the criminal on death row would be incalculably more likely to go on a violent rampage, for the simple reason his/her preoccupation is purely with the present because his/her fate is inevitable. In contrast, the criminal with the ten year sentence has cause to consider the future and thus will be more cognisant to the consequences of their actions.

Looking at it from a utilitarian standpoint, there is nothing technically wrong with having perspective entrenched in the present. Realistically however, we do not live in a socially agnostic world where consequences don’t matter: and this is precisely why perspective geared heavily toward the present is aversive. Imagine all of humanity living with their perspective at or near ‘extreme present.’ Everyone would ‘live for the moment’ and no heed would be paid to consequences – surmising self-serving human nature, the only possible outcome would be annihilation.

Future Temporal Frame

He who lives in the future is a dreamer. He possesses heightened vision of potentiality but is oft incapable of execution. Excessive preoccupation with the future can lead to the formation of unrealistic expectations and via loss of focus, impair the ability to deal with the present.

If there is anywhere this characteristic is particularly prevalent, it is the upper corporate echelons. The tendency of manager and board perspectives to be future-centric is as vast as their remuneration. Problem of course is that pictures of a rosy outlook are a dime a dozen. It doesn’t take much to paint aspirational pictures of the future; pictures which tend to be semi-realistic but plausible. Conversely, realising the future depicted often takes a great deal of skill, a bit of luck, some hard work and more than a stroke of genius.

The association comes about because the future is hazy and uncertain. If perspective is set in a future temporal frame, an ‘anticipated’ future must be invoked as perspective must be based on something at least remotely corporeal. To the extent that this ‘invoked’ future is a fairytale, execution is not feasible and there will be a temptation to discount the present reality in favour of the envisioned future.

What does all this mean with respect to balance of perspective? The future is simply a function of present circumstances, expectations, the subsequent actions and decisions taken as a result of these, and unsystematic shock occurrences. The past features as a precedent to expectations, as we often base our outlook going forward upon history. We need all three in good measure because ignorance toward one impairs the functionality of perspective.

It is analogous to driving a car. If you base all your manoeuvring on what you see far out toward the horizon, you will miss other things in your vicinity and very likely have an accident. The same applies for looking only in the rear-vision mirror or immediately in front. Whilst travelling the road of life, the good driver acknowledges what is happening in the here and now, but also looks further ahead and glances at the rear vision mirror. Though we live in the present, it is imperative to be mindful of the lessons taught by the past, and equally cognisant of the potentialities held by the future.

3. Plasticity

Plasticity is just as simple as it sounds: how easy it is to alter shape. As an overlay to the other determinants, plasticity is key because perspective is a dynamic phenomenon – it changes as it learns and grows.

Drawing on the mention of perspective’s centrality in life made earlier on, it follows that: because life is ever-changing and nothing is certain, perspective must be able to accommodate. As such, it needs to be flexible. Circumstances change, and there is a constant cycle of technologies, ideas, understandings, even morals being outmoded and renewed. It is simply not enough to stand still and perspective must move with each new developments – you cannot fix something upon shifting sands.

One would like to think, that with the degree of change and advancement occurring, the world is continuously re-interpreting things, and perspective is being refined in this way. It remains open to be seen whether this ‘refinement’ is in the right direction and whether or not it is making the world a better place, but the truth remains that if perspective were fixed, improvement would not be possible.

Collectively, flexibility is an essential attribute of perspective precisely because things change. Humanity is normative, and values constantly shift: gender roles for example. The interpretation of a working mother today versus in the 1930s being a case in point.  Left alone, a great many perspectives will become wrong and so a dimension of plasticity is needed.

On an individual level, plasticity is crucial because by virtue of being human, we are faulted. Solace comes from the fact that we can use almost any experience, interaction or episode to improve upon these faults and become better people. A dynamic perspective stems from this notion: we have the ability to alter and mould our perspective. The way in which we see things in life or our unique perspective is the product of thousands of minute adjustments made as we learn.

To consign oneself to a fixed perspective is to become a perfunctory organism, because plasticity underwrites our very individuality and sense of identity. A person whose perspective is fixed is no different to an android governed by its hard-coded programming. They are unable to consider or see things differently, and consequently have no cause to think or act differently – mechanical and inert.

4. Cognitive Biases

Perspective is also prone the warping effects of cognitive bias, as alluded to by Mukesh’s paranoia in the earlier anecdote.

Cognitive biases are omnipotent manipulators of perspective and come in all manner of guises. They number beyond specification, but share one common attribute: distortion. Like coloured or contoured lenses on a pair of glasses, the biases alter perspective and too often effect a misrepresentation of what is being perceived.

At the rudimentary level, we have the ubiquitous biases known as optimism and pessimism. On the grounds that they respectively ‘lighten’ and ‘darken’ our perspective, I will term them the ‘luminary’ group. A degree of luminary bias is a normal feature of perspective generally. Which of the two becomes the overlay is determined by the object perspective is being directed at. An example would be the inherent optimism people tend to have regarding stock prices, or conversely, the inherent pessimism they tend to have about work.

Incidence of excessive luminary bias (particularly where one side dominates entirely) will lead to severe distortion of perspective and inevitably bring about flow-on adversity in some form. We all know how excessive pessimism can create a self fulfilling prophecy – tell yourself you’ll fail enough times and that failure will habitually crystallise. Negative consequence is not confined to pessimism: the persistent wearing of Rose-coloured glasses being a case in point. Rose-coloured glasses characterises an outlook that everything will always work out and good comes from everything (somehow).

In order for such an outlook to function in the face of reason (e.g. believe you’ll win next time, even after a string of a hundred losses), a bypass of logic must occur. This bypass, ‘illusory optimism,’ yields from the premise that “something will be different this time”- a rampant cognitive bias that can be seen in everything from relationships to stock markets. It drives people to do some truly obtuse things. The failed realisation: that, in the absence of some substantial intervening factor, history is inescapably repetitive. Some 733,000 times the sun has risen consistently in the common era: reasonable grounds to assume that it will probably do so again tomorrow. This logic helps us add a new dimension to some of life’s perplexing questions such as why do people go back for more after getting burnt? In the context of someone who has hurt you repeatedly, there is a good chance they will do so again. On occasion circumstances do diverge, but generally speaking, to bet against the record is a foolish endeavour.

The impact of luminary biases on perspective is widely known and easily observable. Toward the more complex end of the scale dwell such things as confirmation bias, and, further along still, severe biases that actually cross the line into personality disorders such as narcissism.

Confirmation bias (part of the preconception group) distorts perspective to the extent that it disproportionately filters stimulus, rejecting or re-interpreting anything which isn’t consistent with preconception. Politics, as a domain, is particularly susceptible to confirmation bias, where practitioners have a certain aptitude for selectively filtering and interpreting information such that it supports the political stance held. The danger is not only a distortion of perspective that potentially diffuses to broader citizenry, but especially where the distortion insidiously results in a manufactured outcome, i.e. action with erroneous or no premise.

Taken to the extreme, confirmation bias is what feeds and reinforces the cancer of prejudice. Prejudice can be held directly responsible for the vast majority of humanity’s woes and will hopefully be ironed out at some juncture when we realise how capricious it is and find a way to eliminate it from the collective consciousness.

Reflection

A conclusion isn’t warranted in the absence of a contention, but rather a reflection. Closing the circle from the point at which we began: art. Given a blank canvas and asked to paint an apple, no two people would paint identical effigies. Much of Art’s intrinsic worth comes from it being a form of expression that is unique between people; and it varies enormously, from the bold cubism of Picasso to the hazy impressionist works of Monet. In the same way, human perception is valuable in the broader sense because having such a large pool facilitates advancement in our collective thinking. To the individual, perspective is infinitely salient:  a famous artist is synonymous with their trademark style, and just as the artist is defined by their style, we are defined by our perspective. Does yours reflect who you are? 

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