Dystopian Sci-Fi

I have been a fan of science fiction for most all of my life. As a youngster I gravitated toward comic books that had a sci-fi bent. These leanings may well have nudged me into a career in science, after college.

Most of the sci-fi that I was reading 50-60 years ago in high school and college were optimistic visions of a benevolent future. The focus was often on all the marvelous inventions we would enjoy, and how exciting they would make life. Isaac Asimov was one of my favorite authors. He had a bright outlook.

In the 1960s, Star Trek entered the SF world, with a TV series. Although many Star Trek episodes featured conflict and alien threats, the series offered us a future of hope—in that humanity will overcome its seemingly endless struggles with poverty, inequality, and wars. Star Trek pointed to a future where society's perennial problems had largely been resolved; thus it could feature a positive future, wherein historically intractable human demons were quelled.

More recent sci fi (over the last few decades), however, seems to be much more dystopian in its depiction. Many current writers appear to have been inspired by current pessimistic perspectives of the nature of human society. Today is not a time in which many of us look to the future with a cheerful attitude, as we once tended to, back in the 1950s. Colman McCarthy's novel The Road or the movie series “The Blade Runner” are good examples of current SF writers predicting some kind of “gloom and doom” future. It can be rather depressing.

Another example of dystopian SF is the novel—and later movie—Lord of the Flies. The book described—and the movie graphically portrayed—how a group of boys would devolve to a band of cut-throat monsters, in the aftermath of them having been shipwrecked on an island. Over time they turned feral, and became an isolated society of meanness toward each other. The book offered a gloomy view of how society's baser instincts would drag us down to a nasty existence—absent culture's moral teachings.

An opposing perspective on society's better nature was recently offered, however, by a true incident of boys being shipwrecked on an island. It is a story that belies the dystopian portrayal in Lord of the Flies. In this real case, a group of boys ended up on an island near Australia—and went on to form an equitable community, that was far more supportive of its members. When found a couple of years later, this band of real boys had instead formed a small society of tight-knit individuals who were kind to each other and were thriving.

Is this a case of reality being kinder than fiction? Is it possibly an example of a more accurate and benevolent portrayal of what our future might bring? Could we be a more charitable species than some of our contemporary futurists suggest?

From Simple to State Religion—Part 4 of Big History

This is the fourth of a series of posts on the evolution of human culture—from our nomadic past to the formation of empires—examining the roles played by writing and religion. The world’s first states emerged about 5-6 thousand years ago. How did they differ from the earlier agrarian communities, besides being larger and more complex? A state (1) claims a monopoly on the use of violence, by means of an army and/or police force, and (2) it taxes its citizens to fund its institutions. The very first states were city-states that appeared in Egypt and Mesopotamia.

The state offered several advantages over the small farm communities that had existed earlier: (1) it provided a safer place to live, because people were better able to protect property within its walls, (2) the proliferation of various skills allowed people without land to develop a trade, and (3) large city spaces and buildings provided venues for festivals and other large gatherings. States soon developed military power through standing armies, accompanied by the rise of state religion.

The earlier simple forms of hierarchical religions fit well with the needs of the new states, by providing social cohesion and cooperation. As the size of cities grew, people needed new ways to develop means for collaborating with others whom they didn't personally know. Common devotion to the same god was a good way to foster that cohesion.

As city-states began to merge into ever larger states, a need arose to create a pantheon  of gods that would include a role for each city's main god. The pantheon mirrored the division of human labor and provided a way to hierarchically organize the various divisions of the state apparatus. Thus theology developed, which became a description or doctrine about the various gods and their relationship to humans.

The second innovation of state religion—morality—came into being with the invention of writing. Now the state's moral code could be written down and displayed in public. The state soon solidified its hold on morality by elevating its principles to a supernatural authority. The gods became the custodians of morality—enforcing their standards via a means of divine rewards or retribution.

States later evolved into aristocracies and monarchies, with a ruler—a king—at the apex. The king was often considered to be like a god. States grew larger and  more powerful, later becoming empires, such as Babylon, Assyria, Persia, and Rome. It was helpful that a state’s/empire's armies were made up of soldiers who shared the same god(s); thus they felt superior to their opponents (my god is better than yours), causing them to fight harder and more effectively. As time passed it became clear that states were in a perpetual condition of war—relieved by short periods of peace. Thus the state, its religion, and writing became the powerful trinity that dominated human history.

[Note: many of the concepts I have described in this short, four-part history of humanity came from an online course offered by the University of Amsterdam: “Big History, from the Big Bang to Today.”]

From Records to Writing—Part 3 of Big History

Some 5-7 thousand years ago the first states emerged. The next post will describe how those states impacted the evolution of human culture. In this post I will focus on the invention of writing and the role it played in the further development of civilization.

The first forms of writing—which lasted for about 2,000 years before they transformed into true script—were used for accounting. As societies grew more complex, it became important to create a record of business transactions that could later be referred to. At that time, writing wasn’t yet words—it was characters. Thus, early writing records were a symbolic form of writing—allowing effective ways for bookkeepers to keep track of business, without needing to know or employ the language of either party.

The record-keeping form of transactions was a huge improvement, because it allowed the storage of information, which in turn allowed communication from one place to another and from one time to another. This process also streamlined the task of taxation; thus it met the administrative needs of the state.

It was previously believed that the first true writing began in Sumer (Mesopotamia) and spread from there. Current thought, however, is that the origins of writing independently occurred in (1) Mesopotamia, (2) Egypt, (3) China, and (4) Mesoamerica.

After a couple of millennia, writing began to morph from symbolic to phonetic—allowing it to move beyond just an accounting tool. It was a transformation from symbols to sounds. Because the symbols were not yet particular to a specific language, they could be commonly used for several languages. For example, Chinese symbols are the same across all of China, being common to several different languages. The disadvantage of symbols, however, is that this form of writing often required several hundred signs.

So the next step in writing was the invention of an alphabet, some 3-4 thousand years ago. Alphabetical letters were based on sounds—not signs. The genius of the alphabet is that all sounds of a given language can be described by about two dozen letters. It was a major simplification. Literary works soon followed.

With the new tool of writing, civilizations could grow evermore complex. The affairs of state could now become based on writing. This development also encouraged the further development of religion—as holy scripture could now emerge.

Next time—the last of this series—we'll look at the rise of the state and how it became intertwined with institutionalized religion...

Newly Hatched

This is a newly-hatched sparrow. It awaits the hatching of its two siblings. The eggs are tiny... about 3/8 inch (1 cm). Unfortunately, only one of the remaining eggs opened. Click to enlarge.

From Egalitarianism to Inequality: the Rise of Religion—Part 2 of Big History

Last time I described how humans transitioned from egalitarian hunter-gatherer bands to more complex settled villages in which ownership of property brought a division of labor and a fear of invaders who might confiscate the fruits of that labor. Concurrent with these changes, communities became hierarchical for the first time.

Religion also came into being about that time, largely because it found a home in the new cultures. Specifically, religion satisfied three new needs of society: (1) hierarchy, (2) a sense of community, through solidarity and sacrifice, and (3) a sense of superiority that bolstered the courage of its adherents.

First, consider hierarchical needs. While an egalitarian perspective is mostly horizontal—all people are pretty much on an equal level—religious thought is vertical, from above to below. The gods are superior to us (above us), so we'd best submit to them and follow their orders. Accordingly, human societies became increasingly hierarchical—as leaders assumed authority and power. In fact, those leaders were often priests who claimed to be designated by the gods to rule. Especially when the gods were not available, our ancestors were expected to obey the gods' appointed representatives.

The second need religion met was a sense of community. Religion unites its followers through the worship of a common god (or shared pantheon). This was crucial, because it was necessary to create bonds beyond the kinship of the earlier small, hunter-gatherer bands. Religion literally creates an artificial, expanded family. Unity is further strengthened, as followers connect through a sense of “them” and “us.” We follow the true god(s); they follow lesser god(s).

The third need that religion brought to our settled ancestors was a sense of superiority. If our god(s) is indeed greater and stronger, we become invincible. We therefore will fight harder and longer, and prevail in conflicts that either protect our property or seize others'. Our god is on our side.

The military is a good example of hierarchy that the newly-settled life brought. Standing armies were soon required to protect property. Furthermore, there is no egalitarianism in the military; there is no democracy. Obedience to the vertical chain of command above you is absolutely necessary.

Next time: the rise of writing, states, and state religion…

From Roaming to Residency—Part 1 of Big History

[I recently took an online course from the University of Amsterdam, titled “Big History, from the Big Bang to Today.” In this and the next three postings I will summarize a section of that course; looking at (1) the origin of humans settling down, (2) the rise of religion, (3) the creation of writing, and (4) the emergence of states.]

For something in excess of 95% of our existence as the species Homo sapiens we were hunter-gatherers. We lived in small bands of about a couple dozen individuals. Everybody was closely connected to everyone else—they had to be, in order to survive in a world in which they were far from the apex species. 

They had few possessions, which fit appropriately with a lifestyle that saw them roaming from one place to another, as seasonal changes brought variations in food supplies. When resources periodically dwindled, a hunter-gatherer band would migrate to new environs—quite likely to return when food and water once again were at hand. This is how our ancestors lived, for 200-300 thousand years.

Just some 12-15 thousand years ago humans began to cultivate crops and practice animal husbandry. As they gradually settled into sedentary communities, they morphed from roamers to residents. This transition brought about a profound change in human groups, as they grew in size from small bands into larger and more complex societies.

They needed to remain near their food sources, to protect them and their livestock from intruders. In their new residential lifestyle, with more reliable food sources, their group sizes continued to grow. Hamlets and villages of several dozen people were formed around their cultivated plots. They also began to acquire more possessions.

As the size of groups continued to grow, people no longer were as closely connected as before. Societies morphed from simple to complex—calling for new ways to establish order and trust within them. Another change was an increasing growth of specialization. Whereas before, each person was a generalist—either a hunter or a gatherer—there were now a growing number of specialty vocations: planters, harvesters, craftsmen, animal tenders, social leaders, etc. It was natural for a chain of command to develop, as some individuals took on leadership positions. Eventually, leadership evolved into seeking positions of power. 

Being wedded to their lands, the early agriculturists found their property became attractive targets for others. Hamlets and towns became fortified, for protection of their property. In the previous hunter-gatherer culture, there was less to fight over, and a small band would be more inclined to move elsewhere when threatened with aggression. For agriculturists, however, their societies transformed into a condition of ongoing warfare to protect their property—interrupted by occasional periods of peace. Conflict had become the default human condition.

Next time: this transition from roamers to residents will be considered from the standpoint of the rise of religion and hierarchy in human societies…

Oriental Poppy

How does Mother Nature choose such gorgeous complementary colors for flowers? Click to enlarge.

High Tech Defects

I have written before about my preference for simple tools that last. They may be crude, humble, and require some degree of training to use them properly, but they usually are durable and are devices that you can depend on, year after year.

However, the lure of acquiring a new, high-tech gadget becomes irresistible at times. The latest fancy tool can often do a simple tool’s job much faster and with an ease that is enticing. A gasoline-powered hydraulic wood splitter can quickly render a pile of recalcitrant logs into a heap of slender splits that make fire starting a breeze. A motorized garden rototiller can quickly churn over a plot of land and render it ready for planting. Both of these devices are incredibly efficient and accomplish their task in a fraction of the time it requires me to split wood by hand or turn over the garden beds with a shovel.

Yet, as I've lamented before on this blog, these complicated high-tech tools have an exasperating way of breaking down—causing one to face an expensive repair or to buy a replacement. Too often the broken machine must be consigned to the landfill. When I surrender to the siren song of a new tool, I often soon regret giving in and participating in this game.

So here's yet another tale of my yielding to the purchase of a neat high-tech tool, and later coming to regret it. Every four days my wife and I luxuriate in the healing waters of an outdoor wood-fired bathtub. It's a simple, primitive process that is rejuvenating to body and soul. The challenge of properly preparing the bath is to get the water temperature close to an ideal of about 101^o F (38^o C). A couple of degrees higher and we quickly overheat. A couple of degrees lower and it's just a bath—not a healing ritual. That perfect 101degree temperature allows me to soak in the healing waters for an hour or two.

I've used an old-fashioned thermometer over the years to achieve that ideal temperature. It works, but it's become increasingly difficult for these aging eyes to read the numbers—especially in the low-light levels of a winter's evening. Thus, I was lured into buying an infrared digital electronic thermometer a couple of years ago. Oh, it was nice! (Notice the use of the past tense “was.”) The readout was illuminated, so I could see it in the dark. It offered large numbers for my aging eyes, and it was easy to use; just point and click the trigger. 

I even had fun pointing it toward many other objects and measuring their temperature. Beep, my dog's ear was 85^o F (29^o C). On a cold winter evening I could measure the ground temperature that, beep, was 30^o F (-1^o C). Beep, the stove pipe was 240^o F (116^o C). Fascinating! I kept looking for targets to beep.

Then one night my high-tech infrared toy failed. Instead of heating the water to 101^o F, it got up to more like 112^o (44^o C). My poor wife nearly scalded her legs, before she leaped back out from the cauldron. So now we are back to the old primitive analog thermometer. I need my glasses and a flashlight to read it, but it is dependable... and has endured for a couple of decades.