Ethical Rituals

I do not believe there is or ever could be an absolute universal code of ethics for humans or the cosmos they inhabit. I do believe there is a code of ethics implicit in every civilization. This indicates what should be done even if it is not legally necessary. And cultural rituals enforce and recognize these ethics .

For example as a sign of respect in different places one may offer a handshake, or a bow, or a kiss on the cheek. Customs indicate how strongly one is affected by statements or arguments. Expectations of acceptable behavior when shopping range from blind acceptance of prices to extensive haggling. Beginnings of romances vary greatly. “Telling the truth” means different things in different situations .

Sure, laws are necessary. But the web of “ethical” behavior and its rituals may be the real glue of civilization. In fact, too many “petty” laws trying to enforce former common rituals may be a sign of the decline of any society.

People are, in general, surprisingly social. Amazingly adaptable. And generally quite content to “go native” and “when in Rome .”

A culture which has lost most of its ethical rituals and instead relies on enforced laws is probably not much fun. Rituals have a way of expanding personal freedom, which laws usually do not .

Practical

We inhabit an age of miracles. “Impossible” has become a label only used by those ignorant of possibilities. There is no quicker way to be labeled a curmudgeon than to tell someone their dream or plan is “impossible”.

We also live in a society that dislikes absolutes. Most things are considered “relative.” “Impossible” has about as as much finality as can be expressed. It can only be used when politeness no longer matters. The “impractical” then becomes very useful. Since it only indicates “almost impossible”, “unlikely”, “probably a waste of time”, it is relative and less forbidding. Telling someone it is “impossible” that they saw a fairy flying in the garden is nasty. It is much less combative to say it is “impractical to believe that unless proof is offered .”

“Practical” thus would seem to indicate high praise. But it also has limitations. It works best with the short term, familiar, and local. It’s practical to plan what to do tomorrow, less so to schedule a year, decade, or century from now .

Used excessively, “practical” is also limiting. Visions narrow, often too much. It is sometimes healthy to venture into the unfamiliar. Out of the rut. Maybe not quite “impossible”, but dreams that let us stretch .

Too complicated? Ah yes, why it is hard to teach children or reform ourselves. Hard, but practical and never, thankfully, quite impossible .

Camel Nose

“The camel nose under the tent”, “the slippery slope”, “the gateway”. These are all expressions currently in vogue by absolutist extremists. No matter that such ideas are generally nonsense .

The extremist is certain of two things 1. that he or she alone knows the perfect truth. 2.that such a perfect truth sits at the tip of a cone from which the slightest movement only leads down to horror.

Now, the usual way to criticize such concepts is to claim that each particular “truth” is wrong or partial. And certainly such may often be the case. But I criticize the concept of the cone of correctness rising above a sea of sin .

Life, in particular, is not built of perfect points but of antagonistic forces kept in balance through tensions and self-corrective mechanisms. There is no “perfect” blood pressure – it varies considerably – but when it gets too high or too low in healthy people, homeostatic reactions bring it back to “normal” range. such is true all the way down to cellular activity. So much more our consciousness. No perfect mood. No perfect path. Everything a balance. Not a cone, not even a tightrope, but more a net.

Because of their self-centered righteousness, extremists are usually insufferable. And unfortunately, dangerous. Nothing in life is a cone and should not be treated as one .

Freaks

It is generally agreed that until the agricultural revolution of 10,000 or so years ago, humans – like most primates – lived in small tribes. Within those tribes we performed all the social roles and games we are used to – rulers, bullies, families, mutual aid, grievances and so on infinitely. And naturally, there were always certain individuals who were best at one role or another .

But massive crop food meant the tribes became larger and larger. There were petty kings, then emperors with more extensive reach. Hierarchies always led to the one at the top. Although different activities (trade, politics, religion) might have different types of hierarchies and multiple high spots, there were always only a handful of “the best” at the top. And now, with connected populations in the millions and billions those who are the “best“ are always “freaks”.

By that I mean that they are the strongest, smartest, luckiest, or have some other overwhelming advantage over “ordinary” folks. The rest of us must be content to simply accept their dominance and (often) to just try to stay out of their way and not get crushed by the play of the mighty .

But the real problem with “freaks” is that they are poised on the edge of disaster. Star athletes are near human physical limits, and consequently often injured. Geniuses frequently become mad or emotionally unstable. We all know examples .

I worry, sometimes, about the long-term consequences of putting such fragile freaks in charge of everything .

Memories

How we encode memories is one of the great mysteries of biology. An even greater one is how we retrieve them. And of course you and I both know how hard it may be to use them well .

I admit I try to mostly live life in the present. But as I become more sedentary with age, memories become all the more important ways to pass time. Some are frozen, some are tarnished, some are golden. And I am very well aware of gaps and imperfections .

Any memory is an amazing thing. It might be sharp or foggy, include all senses or only a few. Might present itself as if I am reliving it, or might show up as if I were an observer of the scene. And for that matter, might be real or simply a deep recollection of something dreamed or encountered as a book or a movie .

We used to think that at least near term memories, very vivid, were nearly infallible. Now we distrust eyewitness accounts, not to mention our own impressions. Again, as I age, I find the older memories a lot more solid than yesterday’s. We can truly believe what never really happened .

I only hope I do not become like other elders I have known. They can – and do – repeat the same story often in the same words thinking it is fresh to the audience. But, honestly, in spite of the hyped drug advertisements, there is not much I can do except enjoy the weird ride wherever it goes .

Locally True

Since I was a baby, the culture has screamed I must pay attention to the larger world. My parents had fought in world war II and now isolationism did not work. That was reinforced by the fear of nuclear devastation. Science taught that there was a “real” world not at all like the one of “common sense.” The ecological cry to “think globally act locally” rang out everywhere.

Then there came a flood of “real”, global issues. Crazy society, crazy people, crazy climate, crazy catastrophe, crazy new everything. Each more frightening than the last, more to be ignored, all “real”. As antidotes we try to drown out the cacophony with work, alcohol, drugs, meditation, religion – any loud internally focused obsession. Peace for a while, but often just making things worse in the long run. Perhaps we should just slow down and accept – concentrate- on what is “locally true”.

Examples: we are informed the earth is round, bricks are made of empty space and molecules, pain is just electric impulses interpreted by brain neurons, diseases are all around floating invisibly. But: everywhere I go, the Earth is flat with hills and valleys. If I drop a brick on my toe I feel it, and the pain is real – interpreted electric signals or not. Mostly those invisible diseases do nothing. That is all locally true .

So I take a deep breath. My neighborhood is made of mostly normal people. My weather cycles more or less as usual. I age as always. And, I reflect, all this local “untruth” is where I really, truly live and the medium in which my acts actually mean something .

Once in a Lifetime

Hucksters are always promoting “once in a lifetime opportunities.” Something that will never happen again while you are around to see it. By implication, something wonderful and extraordinary, so unlike your humdrum static existence.

One perspective we gain as we age is that everything is a once-in-a-lifetime moment. Nostalgically we look back at a past never to return, filled with vanished people, scenes and events we took for granted. It can be sad, or relaxing to remember, but those times are gone; those times gone can never be recreated .

In these chaotic times, changes are an annoying and sometimes frightening constant. Often we may wish for that humdrum static existence. At least for a little while. But the flood of new and different rushes on .

A proper attitude is to accept that each day, each hour, is truly once in a lifetime. If it seems not so, we are not engaging the universe properly. Opening to the wonder of every instant is the secret of enchantment .

Oh, it’s often hard, sometimes impossible. There are lots of nasty bad things to endure. Maybe many heartbreaks, anxieties, and pains. But always – almost always – mixed with hopes and joy. Each uniquely packaged into not only once in a lifetime, but once in a lifetime for only you .

Tall Tales

Ancient Greeks had the labors of Hercules. The Midwest had Paul Bunyan and his blue ox. Our frontier heroes were Davy Crockett “killin’ a bar when he was only three.” Recent giants were JP Morgan or Howard Hughes. Tall tales, absurd stories, grand exaggerations have always been entertaining .

The Greeks half believed in the half god Hercules, think of that as you will. Only children thought the giant and his immense ox once roamed the prairies. Those who cared realized that a lot of the stories about real life folks were apocryphal.

But the internet age has turned into a festival of credibility. Folks seem to believe anything at all, as long as it fits in with their worldview and is entertaining. If some AI visionary presented a Paul Bunyan “documentary” I think half the people who saw it would think him at least as real as the aliens shown on other channels .

All in great fun. Until it gradually slides into malicious lies from entertainers who wish to be rulers. There is no greater example of how power and fame corrupt absolutely. Promise anything. At least some of the voters will believe it .

Somewhere, obviously, our education system – designed to preserve a reasonable citizen democracy – has completely failed. Anyone who claimed to be Paul Bunyan or Hercules reincarnate could probably get elected. Oh Tempe! o mores!

Journal of American Wealth

In the ’90s (when I could finally find a way to afford it) I subscribed to the Wall Street journal and read it every day. At the time it claimed to be something like “the journal of the American dream.” It was filled with dry economic facts, relevant foreign news, and investment advice. I figured it was excellent reporting. Which had to be mostly true to help investors place money wisely .

Over the years it was sold and had to react to the wipeout of most printed newspapers. And now, although I still enjoy the actual news articles, it has become something totally different from what it once was.

First, investors are now speculators – not what is something worth in the long run, but will it go up or down tomorrow. The economic news features puff pieces about “business leaders” paid millions a year even when they fail. The editorials – once calm and conservative – have become hysterical religious rants. And at least half the paper is now devoted to wealth. It reads like the Great Gatsby. Mansions to buy and decorate. Fabulous world vacations. obscenely expensive cars, clothes, gadgets .

It had to change to survive. It is doing well, so in that respect its owners made the right moves. I place what it once was into my bin of golden olden nostalgia and decide that I myself must now move along and let the wealthy play with themselves. It has little remaining value for me .

Tribal Theology

If we take theology in its broadest sense of “how does an individual relate to the ineffable mystery of existence,” then all philosophic systems such as those of economics or government are as much “visions” as any religion from Animism to Zen. All rest on unprovable assumptions.

Are people naturally good or bad? Should we treat people in our tribe differently from those in others? Do markets work flawlessly? Is the best government the smallest? What are the limits of a person’s power, and does it depend on their social position? And on and on .

The days of full belief in the 19th century laissez-faire capitalism, or 20th century global corporate trade are rapidly vanishing in our brave new world. As have Marxism, communism, socialism and all the other artificially constructed economic or government theologies .

Nobody knows what will take their place. There’s a lot of noise in the electronic interconnected world, and a lot of chaos in the real climate challenged one. Prophets are many.

But one thing is absolutely clear. Recourse to reactionary theologies will be no more effective or useful than calling on Quetzalcoatl or invoking the Greek gods at Delphi. Those who cling to ancient absolute doctrines are usually the worst fanatics. Probably we can agree that fanatics are the one set of theologians who can kill us all .