1789 Redux

Large organized societies always contain a latent mob of people who feel they are being cheated and who think they are helpless to change things. Usually their ire is directed at “the government” or at least at those who nominally lead that government. But the mob itself rarely revolts on its own. Its leaders usually come from the “upper” classes.

In the French revolution, for example, the mob was initially provoked by aristocrats who wanted more power (less taxes) themselves. They were aided by an intelligentsia who thought people should be treated better. Those dreamers soon lost control and were swept away in a bloodbath, when fanatic monomaniacs such as Robespierre took over.

Eventually, insurrection collapsed into brutal anarchy, the army sorted itself out, seized power and (being fully heirarchic in principle) installed a dictator/emperor. The mob was killed off in the streets or in wars. Life went on .

History is fun and can be misleading as a guide to the future. But it is interesting to draw comparisons between our current politics and those of Ancien Regime France, which was _ in fact _ better run and more “liberal” than the Napoleonic rule that replaced it.

The mob only listens to demagogues, but were I one, I would tell it to be careful what it wishes for .

90 Days

When the United States was founded 250 years ago, it took three or four days for the fastest message to travel from Boston to Philadelphia. Current print and cable journalists seem to believe the same rules are in effect now. Or so I gather from the consensus that “90 days” is a “frantic whirlwind” for a political campaign .

The saying used to be that “a lie can travel around the world before truth can get its boots on.” Now a meme can “go viral” almost before it is created. A gigantic news sheet in 1795 had maybe a hundred local readers. An internet post instantly informs millions or even billions. A day is an eternity.

In those olden days, the world had very little, very delayed, effects. Crossing the Atlantic could take a month or so, most remote happenings were of no relevance whatsoever. New markets crash now at bank news from Japan, and the entire planet can be incinerated in an hour or so, at the whim of any angry old fart who feels particularly cranky .

In that context 90 days is far longer than most news cycles ever were. People “meet” candidates in minutes on media. A true whirlwind might be 9 days. But then what would all the writers and talking heads have to talk about ?

I’m afraid that this is symptomatic of the endless cynicism I’ve developed about just about every political discussion lately. What “they” say doesn’t quite match my own reality, in distance, speed, or effect

Glad You’re You?

The ” future should look like the past” crowd would try to have everyone live as as they imagine people lived in the 1950s. Presumably all songs written after 1955 would be banned. They should listen to a few of those cheerful tunes written during depression, dust bowl, and war. One that I like is “aren’t you glad you’re you?” Which neatly expresses my own take on a good life .

Reactionaries are always Cassandras. Their future is always bleak, and more horrible the more distantly they imagine. They are infected with lollipop nostalgia of a past that never was, and they are too dumb or too ignorant or too lazy to investigate actual history .

These days we are sandwiched between dour polarized fanatics. On one hand the future is evil because of climate change, computers, population growth, anthropocene extinction, and so forth. On the other side we are doomed by government, laws, social breakdown, and flagrant selfish individualism .

Are they right? Maybe. The one true axiom in all of economics is Keyne’s observation that “in the long run we are all dead.” Looking too far ahead, planning beyond yourself, worried about uncontrollable possibilities, have always been bad bets for living honestly, well, productively and – yes – socially .

So – “every time you’re near a rose, aren’t you glad you got a nose?” Spend each moment as joyfully and consciously as possible. Maybe we all die tomorrow. True history and our own common sense say “probably not.” And memory of the perfume of that flower will last as long as anything else in this unknowable universe .