"While it is in progress, life may be a neurotic search for ever greater fulfilment, even if that is only imagined. Future promise, it seems, always surpasses experience. When it is ended, however, life seems inconsequential. We live, we love, we dream, we die. And we are soon forgotten, even the turbulence of the journey is soon smoothed. Those with whom we have shared our lives may remember us for a while, but even memory, it seems, is founded in self-interest. Perhaps memory of a deceased is the livings' mechanism of coping with their own future."
mmm... nicely put, eloquent and concise... but...
...it might trouble some people to reflect that however removed, their motivations ultimately stem from Dawkins' 'Selfish Gene'... just as (for those who, like Dawkins, insist on evidence) a universe without meaning might trouble them. But then, if the impetus for human progress originates in genetic evolution, maybe the drive of the universe originates in molecular evolution - which perhaps ultimately stems from the 'Selfish Atom/Molecule'?
Either way, these 'origins', these 'motivations', have become so remote from experience that it takes unusual insight - such as that of Dawkins - to spot them. We are so immersed in and preoccupied with the detail of our lives... of food, relationships, entertainment, work and so on... that most of us spend an entire lifetime oblivious of reasons and causes and the great beyond from where we originate, forever unaware of why we are as we are and do as we do - our noses forever at the grindstone of everyday living. The question is: if we fail to reflect, then can we regard ourselves as any more than mere biological machines at the mercy of a genetic tyranny?
Before a true civilisation can exist, a crucial part of everyone's experience must surely be to consider their - all of our - existential predicament... and be informed and edified by it (at least as much as by anything else). Otherwise, how is it possible to genuinely evolve - that is, psychologically? No fanciful myths or superstitions here, no fictions of saviours or monsters dredged up from the gamut of religions, faiths and whatever other weird figments and ghosts have haunted and corrupted primitive cultures through the ages. Here we have pure evidential reality. Which is not to say we shouldn't acknowledge the existence of a collective unconscious - this, diminishing as it is, remains part of reality, and should be understood for what it is, and for its influence.
What I'm saying is that to move closer to genuine autonomy we need to be aware of more than what has traditionally preoccupied us. Always a few exceptional individuals have this awareness, which can be seen to operate through innovation, through relentless questioning - especially of one's culture and upbringing - being ready to overthrow accepted ideas that prove specious, flawed or in some way logically inconsistent or problematic, and seek new approaches - but above all to observe one's situation from outside oneself. These were once exclusive to the privileged, the educated, the intellectual elite: Socrates, Goethe, Voltaire.... Not nowadays - not when half the planet has access to virtually unlimited information on virtually any subject, and to a whole menagerie of new and fast-evolving technologies.
Anyone older than about 40 will have witnessed the unfolding of this phenomenon - the emergence of an era so replete with a potential that just six decades ago it would have seemed inconceivable - except maybe to a well-informed sci-fi geek. Now everyone can see it. Moreover, like a fabulous aroma after a while, they've grown used to it - so used to it, in fact, that they hardly notice it anymore. Instead of astonishment, each new turn-up evokes almost a yawn of indifference.
It's an era, though, that really began around 1948, when the transistor was invented. By the 60s - some 15 years later - the future looked sealed, huge technological changes loomed enticingly and as imminent as sunshine. Progress, however, seemed agonisingly slow through the next half-century. But as with a plant, growth at the beginning is inclined to be slow - and a little painful perhaps, sprinkled with sticking-points, misapplications and other diversions. Yet compared with former times, advances have actually moved fast, and signal, in effect, the start of an unstoppable torrent of developments. So far, this is no more than a trickle. Soon though, beside it, the industrial revolution will resemble a mere drip.
Even so, who can say in what direction these changes will take us? Who knows how we as individuals, or as a society, will respond and be altered by them?
I glance at my own situation and contrast it against the thousands of generations gone and thousands yet to emerge... and when I reflect, I'm left wondering what the picture will look like in, say, a millennium from now. Will people - if we could observe them - still be recognisable to us in how they live/behave? How about society? Will we today appear more remote than those a millennium ago do to us now? Might we eventually, having reached some kind of technical hiatus or limit, cede technological evolution exclusively to 'androids' (whatever form they take)? Might, over subsequent aeons, those 'androids' (evolved by then beyond recognition, perhaps integated/merged into everything else) populate and even 'engineer' the galaxy as new manifestations of the 'Selfish Atom/Molecule'... the evolution for which we'll have played the essential primal catalyst?
Are we, in fact, simply unwitting instruments in an extraordinary evolutionary process that follows some invincible eternal mandate, embedded like DNA, in the fabric - within the very essence - of matter itself? (the ultimate in Universal-Darwinism)
And if so, what then?
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