Originally written Thursday, March 17, 2005

Last night, my good friend Wayne picked me up at my house and we went up to the Hamilton Gun Club, a local shooting range. Wayne has been enthusiastically telling me about how much fun he’s been having shooting trap and skeet with his two shotguns. He got his firearms license last year and bought his first gun a few months ago. I was curious to go, because I’ve never really been around guns, and I’ve never fired anything more powerful than an airgun. This was my opportunity to see what it was really all about.

The Hamilton Gun Club is a modest structure that looks like a large house, situated in a sprawling field on the outskirts of Hamilton. Colourful shotgun casings and chunks of clay litter the property. The inside of the club is utterly mundane – linoleum floors, cheerful overweight women cooking up roast beef in a large kitchen (dinner is included with the Night Shoot), and fold-up tables with a mix of Hamiltonians sitting around them. The crowd was mostly middle-aged men, with a few women shooters, and a few younger people as well, mostly in their twenties.

Wayne signed me in as a guest and we were ready to go. We went back to his truck to get the shotguns. He had already filled me in on some basic gun safety rules (the most important: don’t point the gun at anything you don’t plan to shoot), so after teaching me how to load it, use the safety, and eject the spent casings, we stuffed our pockets full of ammo and went off to shoot some trap.

Trap is where you stand behind a small concrete dugout, facing into a large field. Five people shoot at once. Each person has their own station where they fire five rounds, and then everybody rotates to the next station. You load the gun when it’s almost your turn to go, but you don’t cock it until it’s your turn and you’re ready to fire. Slamming the pump action forward and yelling “Pull!” – which is what you say when you want the operator to send out a clay, the little discs they use as targets – is a satisfying feeling. Because it’s a night shoot, they use white clays that shine brightly as they fling forwards in a long rising arc. “Snap!” I fired and missed. When you hit, the clay breaks up into a shower of fragments.

I say “snap!” to describe the sound the gun makes because that’s what it sounded like – a high-pitched pop. I had been expecting a loud boom and a significant kick, but it wasn’t like that at all. I didn’t realize that was because we were using trap-shooting rounds, which are light competition rounds designed simply to shoot clay. It wasn’t until we were shooting skeet with some younger guys, and one of them used a hunting round, that the gun really made noise – a loud “Boom!” with a big blue-white flash.

After shooting trap, we went in and ate a roast beef sandwich, prepared for us by one of the aforementioned women. A roast beef sandwich on white bread doused in gravy and some previously frozen mixed vegetables did the job of filling us up. Then we hooked up with a group of three young guys, two brothers and one of their friends, along with a girlfriend (I wasn’t quite sure whose girlfriend she was), to go shoot some skeet.

You shoot the same white clays in skeet, except that instead of flinging out from in front of you into the distance, they come from two towers on the right and left of you, and travel across your field of view instead of away from you. This is more difficult, since the lateral motion of the clay is so much greater. The other fun thing about skeet is the double rounds, where a clay is fired from each tower at about the same time. For that, you put two shells into the shotgun. “Shhh-click-load and fire, shhh-click-load and fire again!” Having to fire, then pump the shotgun and fire again immediately afterwards is a challenge. It’s exhilarating when you actually hit the second clay.

***

In my last blog post, I criticized the American military and the “justice” they apply to their soldiers. Wemi left a comment and said, “Is it hypocritical for someone to be radically against the American military/violence and then shoot guns at a range for pleasure?” [Edited].

One of the reasons I decided to go last night was to educate myself a bit more about guns, so that I could answer this type of question, and some other questions of my own. After all, guns are weapons that take thousands, maybe even millions, of lives each year. What is the connection between guns in the context I was in last night, at a shooting range, and guns used to murder, intimidate and oppress?

I think guns are what you could call a “dual-use technology”. This is a term used to describe a technology that can be used both for positive uses and negative, violent uses. Nuclear technology is a prime example: it can be used to generate power, or it can be used to create weapons of mass destruction. You could say that nuclear technology can be a tool or a weapon. Guns fall into the same two roles.

As tools, guns play an important role for many people that could hardly be replaced. In Northern Canada, guns are used as protection from dangerous animals such as bears while in the wilderness. Guns are used to hunt game, providing food for families and culling animals that are harming the ecosystem because of overpopulation (in the Hamilton area, deer that no longer have natural predators such as wolves are a prime example of that type of problem). Guns are also used in a sporting context, like at the shooting range, as a safe (safer than snowboarding, for example) and harmless hobby.

As weapons, guns also play an important role in our lives, whether we like it or not. We entrust our police officers with guarding the peace and protecting the innocent, and to do so we give them the use of deadly force. We protect our country against hostile invasion and attack with the same deadly weapons. It could be argued that if no guns existed at all, we could protect our country with bows and spears, medieval-style, although that type of thinking is pointless. Bows and spears have also taken their share of lives in their own deadly efficient way.

Being anti-war and opposed to unjust American military practices and learning how to use a gun is not a contradiction. As I’ve said, guns are tools used for various legitimate purposes in civilian life. When it comes to guns as weapons, used against people, I should point out that I am not a pacifist. I believe that violent resistance is a legitimate right against a violent oppressor. I believe that taking up arms against a hostile invader who threatens the safety of my family and friends is not just a right, it’s a duty. It’s a duty that many Canadians have answered, and died for, as they fought against the Hitler regime in World War II.

I think it is hypocritical to criticize guns used as tools to hunt game for food and for clothing, but at the same time to eat meat and wear leather. The automated violence that kills the turkeys, geese, chickens, sheep and cows that we eat every day and whose skin and feathers we use for clothes, boots, purses, pillows and cosmetics is no less a violent tool for killing than a gun. Lopping off a chicken’s head with a sharpened industrial blade is no different than lopping it off with a well-placed load of birdshot.

You could claim that by purchasing guns, you are supporting the same industry that manufactures them for the American military, where they are used unjustly, and you would probably be right. But if you feel that way, you ought to stop driving American cars, because their manufacturers also produce American tanks. You ought to stop flying on American planes, because their manufacturers also make American fighter jets. You ought to stop buying appliances made by General Electric, because they make the engines that power those fighter jets. Or you could just buy your guns from an Italian or German manufacturer and not worry about that at all.

Comment from wemi:

I understand however the personal choice of a driving a car or buying a toaster oven are not DIRECTLY contributing to the loss of so many lives, ie: gun violence that exists everwhere in the world!

Alevo:

More than anything, I think this debate illustrates the value of being an informed consumer. It is not the ownership of the item (in this case a gun) which facilitates or propogates a potentially violent application of its technology elsewhere – it is the support of a manufacturer who may contribute to activities you find unethical or problematic. Certain firearms manufacturers produce specific calibre guns which are clearly intended for taking human life, violence and intimidation. These are armour-piercing weapons, or large calibre, long-range weapons ( I say weapons here to highlight the difference – a gun is not, de facto, a weapon). Personally, I would avoid giving my money to a company that is involved in developing this form of firearm. It is a purchase decision I have the luxury of making. Wemi, for a good portion of people in the world – those who are not ensconed in the luxury of Western concrete – a gun is not a weapon. If you are familiar with our own provincial north, you will know this is the case. It is more of an issue that we ensure they are able, and want to make ethical purchasing decisions like you or I. Firearms manufacturers in the business of making weapons are big problem. Firearms manufacturers solely making safely operating, utilitarian calibre guns are not, in my opinion, contributing to gun violence.

Originally written Monday, February 28, 2005

My friends Niall and Jim and I moved in together a few years ago. It was the first time I’d lived on my own, an observation that could be made easily by anyone who noticed my tremendous lack of useful possessions: no pots, pans or kitchen appliances, no end tables or couches, no lamps or pictures. In contrast, Jim had lots of useful possessions, as well as an overwhelming abundance of junk (a retinue of belongings that follow him to this day) and a great many plants.

My bedroom had an enormous window, and Jim’s did not (an unlucky coin toss on his part), so my room became the home for several of Jim’s plants. Although I suppose he would have looked after them if I hadn’t, I was soon watering and taking care of them as though they were my own. And oddly enough, I started to develop an attachment for them.

That’s one of the first things I noticed about my relationship with plants. It was a relationship. They provided me with decoration and the illusion that I was outside, even though I was trapped indoors studying for exams or working. I provided them with water and ensured they got sunlight. They took care of my mental wellbeing, and I cared for their physical wellbeing. A relationship based on mutual trust developed.

It’s odd when you realize that you care about a plant, that you have a favourite plant, that you feel sorry for a plant that is suffering because someone else is not tending to it. While buying smokes with Wayne one Saturday night before going to the bar, I noticed a small plant languishing under the feeble fluorescent lights of the store. It looked diseased and lonely and sad, somehow, so I bought it. It had begun. I was falling in love with plants. I was becoming a herbophile.

My friend Wayne, on the other hand, is a plant sociopath. To him, a plant is a colourful piece of furniture, no more desirous of water and attention than his couch. I imagine that when Wayne walks into a nursery, plants cower into their pots like Dalmations near Cruella DeVil. His apartment is scattered with the dead and dying remains of his purchases. Those that still cling to life do so because of my infrequent visits, when I always make sure to give them some water.

That’s one of the most remarkable things about plants: their incredible tenacity. Plants cling to life like nothing else. When Wayne bought a large cactus, with two main spiny trunks rising from the soil, and parked it near his perpetually covered window, I did not expect it to live. Although cacti can make do without much water, they certainly need light, or so I thought. Somehow, it stayed alive. I would water it each time I visited. After a long period of no water (I hadn’t been by in a while), the cactus could not go on without moisture. Instead of dying, it made a sacrifice: it took all the water out of one trunk, and put it in the other. The dehydrated trunk died, but the cactus lived on, and as far as I know, it’s still alive.

The ability of plants to renew themselves, to find a way to keep going, is encouraging. When I was making dinner on an exceptionally cold day this winter, I opened the window because it was getting so hot and smoky in the kitchen. The air entering the kitchen was so cold it froze the leaves of the plants that were near the window. The leaves of the plants promptly wilted, turned brown, and fell off. Weeks later, the plants are showing finally signs of rejuvenation. Small new green leaves are appearing. Each new leaf is a visible sign that the plant will live in spite of its scars:

This plant should be taken into protective custody.

Under the right conditions, plants grow incredibly quickly. One of my favourite plants here at home was just a single stalk, six inches tall, when I gave it to Casie. A couple years later, the plant is a many-stalked five-foot tall giant of a plant, and Casie and I are married. You could say that our relationship has grown like that plant. That’s why to me, plants are a symbol of hope, determination, and life. They are a daily reminder that survival is possible even when times are tough, and that growth and vibrant life will happen when something is carefully tended to.

This is the plant I gave Casie.

Poinsettias are the plant no one waters, because they expect them to live over Christmas and that’s it. Faced with no water, this plant shed most of its leaves.

But after a regimen of Beethoven and aromotherapy, it is showing signs of recovery in the form of tiny new leaves.

One of my favourite plants, this Norfolk Pine was given to me by Casie’s grandmother “Nanny”.

Originally written Monday, March 07, 2005

So, What Should Canada’s Priorities Be?

I received some interesting feedback to my post entitled “Consequences” last week, which pointed out that Canada ought to be fulfilling an active and meaningful role in the world instead of just reacting to the United States. niallking asked “when was the last time that Canada did anything of consequence in the international sphere?” and said that Canada, while a member of the G7, is “far from the 7th most active country in taking active roles in solving international crisis”. alevo agreed and said that “taking an active role in the world doesn’t mean giving up independence, but it does mean crafting a coherent strategy”.

The “anybody-but-Bush” strategy failed for John Kerry in his bid to win the presidency. I think an “anything-but-America” strategy will likely fail for Canada too, and it certainly won’t be good for relations with the US. But what exactly should our role be in regards to the United States? In a Toronto Star article, Rick Anderson addresses our relationship with the US by saying we need to decide what is important to us, like:

Open and fair trade, where disputes are more quickly and fairly resolved; a healthy partnership in North American security (the continental approach that outgoing U.S. ambassador Paul Cellucci advocated, only to be cold-shouldered by Jean Chrétien); collaborative forays in selected areas of international affairs, such as spreading freedom and democracy, peacekeeping; modernizing multilateral institutions (the U.N., NATO, G7, G20); countering terror; fighting HIV-AIDS and helping Africa develop.

The problem with this list of issues is that it seems, in good part, to be dictated by the issues that are most important to the US. Sure, “open and fair trade” connects to mad cow and softwood lumber, but it also meshes nicely with US desires, such as the Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA). Or how about “spreading freedom and democracy”, a phrase pulled word-for-word from Bush’s last State of the Union address. Anyone care to join the US in the next Iraq?

Given our unique and dire planetary circumstances and the central role the US plays in them, the stakes are high. That’s why I think Canada needs to adopt a strategy that helps us – all of us, not just Canadians – pull out of the mess we’re in. This is going to mean countering a good many US policies, simply because of their destructive nature. I think the best way of doing that is to lead by example. If we politely decline to participate in any US idea that is bad for the planet, even if it might be good for us in the short term (e.g. BMD), and pursue policies that are beneficial to the planet and to Canadian citizens, we can provide an example to our neighbour down south that it is possible to be internationally helpful, environmentally sound, and socially just, and make it work.

This means putting money into domestic policies that make us better – education, environmental protection, health care, research and development – and cooperating with other countries to pursue international policy achievements. We’ve already started by ratifying the Kyoto Treaty, and now we need to show the US that it can work and it can make life better for Canadians. Similarly, if there are international efforts led by other countries underway to resolve disputes diplomatically instead of by force – the efforts of France, Germany and Britain to negotiate with Iran over nuclear development, for example – we ought to lend a hand.

By acting internationally but with a global conscience and by acting domestically with a Canadian conscience, we can turn Canada into an example of what is possible when the politics of fear and profit are discarded. That’s what real international leadership is all about.

Comment from Alevo:

Agreed. It is much more consequential to disagree with someone in principle when you also have an alternative. To simply disagree is, well, simple.

Niallking:

I support free trade in almost all forms (even FTAA), and I don’t think that anyone has the right to block 3rd world laborers from competing in the labour market.

Of course, I do not support exploitation either, but suggesting that corporations should be blocked from starting operations in South America because they [i]might[/i] exploit the workers serves no ones interest except the North American unions (who conveniently cloak their true motives as civil rights values).

It is also incredibly naive to assume that there is anyway to develop the economies of 3rd world countries without the participation of the worlds largest employers. Of course, many will argue that the wages paid in those markets are inherently exploitational (by western standards), but that is the reality of supply and demand. Self sustaining economies can not be built with handouts (look at Russia); the only way to develop the wealth of 3rd world countries is to allow them to compete in the world market whereever they can (i.e. cheap labour).

It is my opinion that the majority of the left should focus their influence on finding ways to encourage corporations to take a more constructive role in the development of the countries they enter, rather than stonewalling, and blacklisting, any that attempt to do business there. Ultimately, the left are doing as much damage (if not more) to the economies of South America as the capitalists are.

Alevo:

Let me get this straight. In your opinion niallking it is the duty of the political left to encourage constructive corporatism; blocking exploitive labour practices in South America benefits no one but North American unions. Where would you ascribe some degree of corporate resposibilty? Is development at any consequence acceptable for you? Let me pose that another way: if the Canadian government developed a pilot program to have the sewing of Canadian flags done by the Innu at Natuashish for 1/100th of minimum wage – you would say: “I have no problem with that, it is naive to assume they could be helped otherwise. I blame Jack Layton and Buzz Hargrove.”

Niallking:

Firstly, in order to put your question in the correct context, one would have to assume that no one else was willing to employ the Innu – or they would not accept the jobs period.

In that situation there are two possible outcomes/analogies:

1) The Canadian government recieves such bad publicity (spread by Jack and Buzz) from the ‘flag affair’ that it pulls out of Natuashish leaving them with no jobs at all. Futhermore, the government cancels an initiative to open up the Natuashish market to private sector development destroying any hope of other employers entering the market in the near future. This assumes that most Canadian don’t consider the Innu as their responsibility – similar to the attitude of the rest of the world towards South America.

2) The Canadian government is pressured by the people to increase wages; which it does only to the point that the cost benefits of flag sewing in Natuashish remain profitable. Other employers note that it is possible to run a successful manufacturing business in the region, and industries develop. Competition for the Innu labour market rises (as well as wages) and the region is eventually on the path to 2nd world status.

Unfortunately, the attitudes of many leaf leaners towards trade with South America falls in-line with the blindingly myopic ‘corporations are evil – block them in everything they do’ chorus that seems more inclined to produce outcome one than outcome two.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Religion is something that has affected me a great deal in my life. I was raised in a very religious family – more accurately, I was raised by very religious parents. They follow a conservative, traditionalist version of Protestantism generally called “Calvinism”, and believe that all Biblical accounts are literally true – for example, they believe that the universe was formed in seven days, that Adam was created first and Eve was created from his rib bone, that “the flood” actually occurred and submerged the entire earth in water, etc.

From a religious perspective, my parents, although they carefully instructed me in religious matters, taught me the “truth” as they saw it, took me to church and even sent me to a private Christian school, made one major mistake: from the beginning, they encouraged me to read, to seek out knowledge and information, and to think for myself.

I don’t think they ever intended that I would read what I ended up reading (science, mostly) or that I would analyze the religion they taught the same way I analyzed everything else. This might seem surprising (why wouldn’t they expect that?) but it’s really not. They believe what they believe so strongly, in the same way the American Declaration of Independence is phrased – “We hold these truths to be self-evident” – that I think they were caught unawares when as a young adolescent I vigorously questioned everything that until then I had accepted. After all, they believed so strongly that they would not even acknowledge logical fallacies like circular reasoning in my arguments with them, a reasoning they fell back on again and again, saying that “the Bible is true because it says it is true”.

Religions are specifically designed to grip people’s minds this way. In an essay called “Viruses of the Mind”, the author, scientist and famed atheist Richard Dawkins points out that religions share characteristics that help perpetuate the religion and minimize criticism: “[a] deep, inner conviction that something is true, or right, or virtuous: a conviction that doesn’t seem to owe anything to evidence or reason…[what we call] faith”, “a positive virtue of faith’s being strong and unshakable, in spite of not being based upon evidence” and “the conviction that ‘mystery’, per se, is a good thing”.

Looking at Christianity in particular (simply because I am most familiar with it, I am sure all religions have their own examples), this is quite evident. Faith is defined in the Bible as the “assurance of things hoped for, a conviction of things not seen”. Doubt and skepticism, which I view as valuable traits, are not acceptable, as the story of Doubting Thomas makes clear. It is important to religion that its adherents believe unquestioningly, for the most basic reason of all: self-perpetuation. In this respect, religions are similar to self-perpetuating corporations and other “entities”, a concept I unfruitfully tried to flesh out in a previous blog post.

Because religions are based on belief, they perpetuate and grow by causing others to believe. This is accomplished in various ways. Evangelism is one important method, especially for religions that are trying to grow in regions previously closed to them, the way that Islam and Christianity are growing in China, for example. The other major way they grow is the way that failed on me, which is that parents teach their children to believe. This works more often than not, I think. What’s interesting about this is that it illustrates why people hold the beliefs they do. My parents have stated that they believe what they do because it is (I will paraphrase) the “best” religion, the “only truthful” religion, God’s “true word”, the “only religion based on God’s works and not man’s works”, etc. In fact, the truth is they believe what they believe because that is what their parents believed and taught them, just like that is true for most religious people in the world.

If a single religion were the truth, then the followers of that religion ought to feel comfortable with presenting their children with various belief options: Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, etc. and then letting their child choose which seems best. Religions don’t spread like that, however. Children (and adults for that matter) will only believe something if we tell them it’s true, or if they see it for themselves (impossible in this case).

A religious person might counter what I’ve written by asking if I’m an atheist (which I am) and then saying that a belief that there is no God is no less a faith, devoid of evidence, than their religious belief. They would be correct if that’s what being an atheist meant. In fact, although denying the existence of God makes one an atheist, lacking belief in God (or a god, or gods) also makes one an atheist. If the hypothetical child in the previous paragraph were to decline to make a choice at all, they would be an atheist. I fit into this latter category.

Unfortunately, I don’t think that atheists are doing a very good job at encouraging people to critically examine their beliefs. I say “unfortunately” because I think the problems that are either rooted in or related to religion – with its emphasis on unquestioning belief – are worldwide and undeniable. And though I think that the positive role that religion plays in many people’s lives is also undeniable, I think that positive contribution is seriously compromised by the fact it comes from “a conviction of things not seen”, i.e. it lacks evidence or to be even harsher, is based on untruths. I think an alternative life system (I say “life system” because it would not need to be based on belief), based on evidence and not on faith, that underlines the truly amazing fact of our existence and the awe-inspiring truth of our universe, could be an equally positive force in people’s lives, with the major benefit of being based on the truth.

Comment from Alevo:

You tread on dangerous metaphysical ground here. I am actually surprised how loosely you throw around the concept of truth – you put alot of “faith” in “evidence.” Care to comment.

Ade:

Dangerous ground, sure, but I don’t believe I’m loosely throwing around the truth. To me, there can only be one truth, and that which is opposed to that truth must be false. Because religions have opposing and contradictory viewpoints (e.g. Jesus Christ vs. Mohammed, to be flippant), yet each claims to be exclusively true, either only one is true and all the others are false (undemonstrated, at the least), or they are all false. I think trendy concepts like “different truths for different people”, i.e. believe what you want, lack intellectual rigor. The belief in some tribes that the moon is a god is not equally as true as the “belief” that the moon is a satellite orbiting the earth – one is true and one is not, one is based on evidence and the other is based on belief. The one that is based on evidence enabled humanity to put a person there.

I have no faith in that which has no evidence. I accept that metaphysical meanderings like the possibility we are figments of some creature’s imagination may also be true, but since we have no way of determining that, and since there are better and simpler explanations – e.g. what we see and experience is real – I’m not sure they’re worth living by.

Iliafer:

I too require evidence. To my knowledge, there has not been any solid proof, to date, which demonstrates that the Bible and its stories are in fact true. Now, some “biblical artifacts” have been unearthed, and provide some shaky evidence to support the validity of the Bible, but to there has never been any evidence unearthed which would unequivocally prove that the Bible is not some fake story.

I agree with Adrian, in that most religions seem to have arisen out of necessity, in times when we knew very little about the world we lived in. Religion provides a set of life-rules that help to create a more peaceful living situation. Religion is also a means of control.

Bottom line: I can only have “faith” in what I can see, hear, smell, taste or feel. These are the senses which I use to understand the world around me, to make sense of it. If physical proof of a God can be demonstrated, then I would be open to its faith. Simple belief in something that cannot be proved to me…I just can’t see myself devoting so much of my time and energy to an idea, much less go to war with someone else over it.

Ade:

Iliafer, re. “I can only have “faith” in what I can see, hear, smell, taste or feel”, I know what you mean, but you’ve opened yourself up to criticism in terms of other phenomena you probably believe in but can’t detect with your own senses, but that nonetheless have a large body of evidence to support them (magnetism, for example, although the effects of that are obvious. There are other phenomena that make this “point” better but I can’t think of them off-hand). I do know what you mean and agree with you, however.

Iliafer:

Well, I knew someone would say that. In response, the instruments that we use to detect these things are like extensions of our own senses. Many are built upon the physical/biochemical basis of our own senses. For that reason, and because there is a body of evidence supporting their authenticity, I do trust that what they are detecting is an extension (albeit huge) of my own senses.

Alevo:

Ade – you answered me by saying that you weren’t throwing around “the” truth. I questioned your use of the concept. Perhaps this is where we would differ on the subject – I would say truth is relative, subjective even. (read: your different truths for different folks) Evidently, your thinking is more influenced by absolutist religiosity than you admit; since you are perfectly comfrotable suggesting absolute truth exists – further that you can prove it. I can almost smell the Christian hegemony. I mean, if it reasons like a pope . . . it must be a . . .

Ade:

Excellent response, and it made me laugh – I almost spilled my holy water.

I don’t think I am as absolutist or rigid about the “truth” as you might think, or perhaps as what I wrote suggests. I agree that to a certain extent “truth” is indeed relative or subjective, but I would place that more in the realm of the individual, in terms of how we view the world, how we experience things, and so on. I do believe, however, that there is “truth” that is universal, that must be if we are to even be able to communicate with each other. For example, I accept and will defend the “truth” that you exist, for which I have a great deal of evidence, including my wounded pride.

It could be said, then, that since God is an individual experience, that the truth of God may lie in the individual and is therefore relative or subjective to that person. Except that religions do not claim God as a purely individual experience, but rather as a universal, absolute truth that must be accepted in the same way that I accept your existence, or the fact that I see snow on the ground outside my window. Religions are quite clear on that matter, and are also quite clear in saying that other religions are incorrect, even to the point of following them being a guarantee of eternal damnation. Viewed as a whole, then, “religion” is not even logically consistent. I realize that some religions have been modernizing and are more flexible on these matters, with even the Pope making helpful comments about other religions being different paths to the same goal, etc., but I think that’s just the Catholic church grasping at relevance as it is pummeled by science, the growth of Islam and lawsuits for sex abuse.

On the other hand, there are those who are not religious but are “spiritual”, but those beliefs are such a mixed bag I don’t think they can be examined this way, and the concept is flexible enough that I could put myself in this category even as an atheist.

Pontiff out.

Originally written Monday, February 14, 2005

On the weekend, I watched a small part of a speech by Ronald Wright, the author of A Short History of Progress, a book that’s been recommended to me here and that I would really like to read. What I saw of his speech was interesting. He was talking about predictions – some intentionally satirical predictions he had made in a book written years ago that actually came true – and some predictions made by various people (futurists, scientists) and groups (like the Pentagon) for the future.

As we are accustomed to hearing, the predictions were frightening. The Pentagon (“hardly a group of hippie tree-huggers” as he said) predicting worldwide chaos, war, and environmental destruction if the more severe predictions for climate change come true. Other predictions dealt with the consequences of war, pollution, overpopulation and the “onslaught of progress”. He also talked about how this is the century where we have to get it right, that this could be the last century where we have the chance to turn things around. I think he’s right about that.

Unfortunately, the task is monumental and it’s getting harder every day. In fact, instead of things getting better, things are actually getting worse, quicker and quicker by the day. Instead of having a global leader intent on improving our world, we have America intent on driving us to the very bottom as quickly as possible. Instead of the world getting cleaner and more sustainable, we are polluting more and more each day. Instead of more social justice, things are becoming more unequal and more unjust each day.

For centuries, humanity has been hearing warnings of the end of the world (or more accurately, the end of us, which to humans is the same thing). We’re used to proving the doomsayers wrong, even when our escape from doom is “more luck than judgement”, as Wright called our avoidance of nuclear disaster during the Cold War. In spite of previous escapes, there is a certain line in our future that, once crossed, will stop us from ever turning back. Our fate will be sealed. The frightening part is that we will not know when we have crossed that line, and we may have crossed it already.

We have already experienced tremendous loss, and we lose more each day, but we feel immune to it, so powerful is our self-deception. If we were a sane society, we would be in mourning right now. We lose millions of each other each year for no good reason, through war, hunger and disease. We lose priceless links with our past as we carelessly destroy artefacts, languages and cultures – a painful loss, because what we are really losing are other ways of being, living and understanding, ways that might be superior to what we have now. We lose species each day, slamming the door shut on millions of years of slow and painful evolutionary development. We lose the contribution of human intelligence and ingenuity, contributions perhaps essential to our survival, as millions of children are born each year mentally underdeveloped because of malnutrition, with millions more unable to apply themselves because of their poverty.

If we keep losing like this, at some point we will have lost.

Comment from Alevo:

I went to his first of Wright’s several Massey lectures this fall. I believe the subtitle for his series was: every time we ignore the lessons of history the price goes up. His talk definitely gave cause to wonder, suggesting that for centuries technology has been viewed as humanity’s salvation from behavior counterintuitive to survival. If things go wrong – we can invent technology to fix it. If extinction is on the horizon – we’ll drum up some solution. However, we may have very well crossed a threshold. Our Western cultural narrative is too replete with stories resolved in the nick of time. It will be our own undoing. How thoroughly ironic.