Three Miles of Rice Pudding - Revised Edition by Tom Wallace - HTML preview

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12  A Wider Commons

‘If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.’

- Lao Tzu

‘The purpose of life is to be defeated by greater and greater things.’ - Rainer Maria Rilke

In my home town of Newport, there is a man cycling his way along the road that runs beside the river.  His shop is in the town, just beside the main bus stop.  Here he gets off and ties up his bike ready for the day’s work.  No matter the weather, he will greet you and tell you that it’s a wonderful day.  He always has time for a chat and is always upbeat.

The man lives in a big house and his business is thriving, so you might conclude that the man on the bicycle has good reason to be optimistic about life.  However, it was not always so.  Forty years previous and that same man — or so it seems to me — had a completely different character.  I might have just been blind to his true nature, but back then it would have appeared highly unlikely that he would become the relaxed, friendly and positive person that he subsequently became.  What happened to allow this to be?

Well, despite his business success there had been struggles in the man’s life.  Perhaps this was part of the story.  But I think the seeds of success were always there, despite the ups and downs of life.  And wisdom seems to grow for some folk — they take on a broader perspective, they learn to relax, they learn to let go, they learn to be open and welcoming to other people.  Perhaps it’s the happiness level that tips us towards this, or some leaning towards optimism, or some combination of all these factors.

Whatever it is, one thing’s for sure.  If I could ask for anything for myself for the future it would be to gain that kind of quiet and settled soul the man on the bicycle seems to possess.

Up to this point I have restricted our discussion to more or less the way the world is now.  I have given the name Privatopia to this world.  We have touched on alternative utopias in the Introduction and in Chapter 1.  There we looked at two main contenders for a future better world — Ecotopia and Cornucopia.

We’ve noted that people can be disengaged and cynical about the current state of politics.  Our disengagement might indicate stagnation, but I’ve suggested that this does not mean that things will not change.  Rather, it means that the current Privatopia will stumble blindly into a version of Cornucopia, that the advocates of a high-tech future and the benefactors of neo-liberalism have in mind.  It might be Cornucopia for the few and crumbs for the rest.  So if we do nothing, change will happen without us.  If we want to stop this, then we need to wake up.  There is a difference between stumbling into the future and living it more consciously.  If society is to adopt a new vision for its future then it means all citizens — or at least, a good many — taking time out to think about what the options might mean, and what they have to offer us.  So in this chapter, I want to ask in more detail, what it might be like to live in one of these future worlds.

Education

Let’s ask then, what it would take to change from the path we seem to be on?  Another of Gandhi’s social sins is applicable here — Education without Character.  I can only comment briefly on education and only with reference to the UK.  Two distinct trends seem to be prevalent.  One trend, which may or may not be beneficial, is that young people are being taught to question.  Social media, and the internet generally, has contributed to this trend.  We can all search for answers now, but this has led to a certain amount of disrespect for experts and a tendency to question the truthfulness of a lot of what we see and hear.  Questioning and searching for answers is to be encouraged, of course, but the attitude behind such enquiries is equally important.  Character then, is needed — character enough to discern what is reasonable and acceptable from what is suspect.

The second trend in education is simply to prepare for working life. The commodification of learning and the insistence on league tables, progress and results, just sends out the message that education is a tick-box exercise.  I cannot help but feel that this then continues into the workplace and adds to the stress and dullness of modern life.  Whilst this might seem pragmatic, the issue here is that working life is just a continuation of whatever direction society is taking.  And at the moment this suggests that employment is just a means of gaining money for a private life that may take little or no account of compassion for others, concern for local communities and care of nature.  Preparing young people for employment then, implicitly reinforces the message that living this private life is what being an adult consists of, and that there are no reasonable alternatives.

We need closer links between education, industry and community.  We need less focus on qualifications.  We also need knowledge for its own sake and to encourage curiosity, imagination and creativity.  Again, it is character that is required to see the benefit of education for its own sake and for the wider application of knowledge in society; not just the narrow focus on a job and money.  At the very least, we need to imagine the directions future work might take and focus on this.  We need to encourage young people to seek vocations.   Education may change to ‘the four C’s’ — Critical Thinking, Communication, Collaboration and Creativity.  (This is offered as an alternative to the three R’s, of Reading, Writing and Arithmetic — disturbing, in that only one of them actually begins with an R!  An alternative version of ‘to read, to reason, and to recite’ was given by Louis P. Bénézet.  (At least he could spell!)  By recite, he apparently meant having a true grasp of language and not just repeating by rote what was offered by the tutor.)

Science and Technology

Given the prevalence of Privatopia, and its drift into an expectation of Cornucopia, another of Gandhi’s social sins is relevant to our discussion here — Science without Humanity.  A lot of technology has its own momentum; that is part of the reason why Privatopia is changing. That is the downside of Privatopia; if no-one intervenes, then technology will just plot its own course.  The very nature of Privatopia — as a world where no-one much bothers about their surroundings except as immediately affecting themselves — leaves society open to this slow but accelerating drift towards technologies that we may neither want or need.  As has been said so often, just because something can be done does not mean it should be done. Technology seems to be leading the way instead of us choosing the way.  This is especially true of the Cornucopian view of the future, discussed below.  I do not especially blame scientists for creating this situation.  Science, like every other branch of human endeavour, needs input from society at large; it needs to be set within a moral context; it needs to have a human face.  Industry might however be a bit more culpable.

Why Privatopia will not Work

Privatopia, what I am considering as our current situation, certainly has some advantages.  That sense of independence, privacy and individuality is very appealing,  and sometimes anonymity is a great asset, especially with regard to freedom.  We can think particularly of women from rural backgrounds moving to cities, and the independence that money can bring to us.  Privatopia, and our developed societies generally, would be fine if the world were infinite, or there were only a few millions of us instead of several billion.  Two main problems prevent Privatopia, and indeed all of our utopias, being equally valid options and these are climate change and the limits of our material resources — the limits to growth.  The reality of climate change is not something that we still feel the need to dispute — it is a given.  The questions that remain are really about how quickly changes will occur and how extensive they will be.  Privatopia, as we have seen, more or less ignores the effects of climate change.  We could say that any response is re-active rather than pro-active — trying to cure the problems after the events, rather than trying to prevent the problems in the first place. (Economics explicitly discounts the future, so our economic system itself encourages this attitude of only fixing things when they can no longer be ignored.)  Sea level rise will be addressed by flood defences and/or moving settlements to higher ground.   Disruption to agriculture will be met by applying more technology.  Species extinction will perhaps only be addressed by saving DNA of endangered species in the hope of a future ‘resurrection’.  I am not necessarily saying that therefore human civilisation is doomed.  We may well survive under this scenario; capitalism may survive; ‘normal’ society may survive; but it will be a deeply impoverished world.

In addition to climate change, the limits to growth is the other issue affecting our shared future.  A report, going by the name, The Limits to Growth was published in 1972.  Around 50 years later, and whilst its predictions over the growth of population have proved accurate, almost none of the concerns raised about shortages have so far turned out to be true.  Likewise, concerns over running out of oil — so called ‘Peak Oil’, where the rate of new discoveries is overtaken by demand — have been eclipsed by oil and gas obtained by non-conventional means.  Economists point out that a scarcity of any particular material  (or a particular source of a material) will inevitably lead to an increase in price.  The price increase will, in turn, lead to the market seeking alternatives to whatever resource is proving scarce and expensive.  By this reasoning, renewable energy will eventually replace fossil fuels, simply as a result of the increasing expense and scarcity of the latter.  At the time of writing, there is particular concern over

Cobalt, a key ingredient of lithium-ion batteries. These are the batteries that power a vast range of devices, from mobile phones, cameras and laptops to electric cars.  Cobalt itself is mined mainly in the Democratic Republic of Congo, often under appalling conditions, and often by children.  (Lithium Iron Phosphate batteries — no Cobalt — are a possible successor to Lithium Ion batteries.)  There is also concern over the supply of Indium, the element used in Indium Tin Oxide, that allows touchscreen panels to function.  Aside from Cobalt and Indium though, it may well be that the economists are correct, and there will always be sources of materials, or alternative materials that allow for growth — in economic terms, at least — to continue unabated.  Indeed, bizarrely, even tackling climate change itself can be a source of economic growth. In Privatopia, we simply turn a blind eye to all this, much like a former age of Europeans, who ignored the source of products reaching them as a result of the slave trade.

A vast source of new raw materials, of course, lies within our grasp.  Whilst it has taken many decades, it is starting to look like space exploration is beginning to get seriously underway. Capitalism, as we have said, progresses by converting commons into commodity.  A massive new source of commons awaits, such that there have already been calls for the solar system to have some kind of legal protection — even to be declared a commons.  Who knows, in 300 years time, we may be facing another ‘limits to growth’ and start to look at other solar systems.  I am positive about exploration, but still, these next few decades back on Earth are critical.

I mention this with some hesitation.  I am hesitant because many caring people look with horror at the moves to colonise the moon and Mars, and to launch ever more satellites into space.  Their concern is that we neglect our Earth-bound problems of ecological collapse, climate change, pollution, poverty, and so on, by looking to space.  But whilst I have some sympathy with this view, still, I disagree.  In the long-term, we need to explore space.

Optimists — including the Cornucopians, as we will see — regard developments in space as part of the ‘solution’ to the limits to growth.  But remember that almost all of this new material will be used back here on Earth.  As such, ‘solving’ our problems with regard to energy and/or resources, inevitably puts even greater pressure on the biosphere. Our future expansion into the solar system will be a continuation of capitalism and if we are to manage it correctly we need to avoid it becoming another Tragedy of the Commons on an even grander scale.  Climate change, and all the problems associated with it, will not be solved in the next few decades by developments in space.  In the longer term though, space exploration may change societies and humanity immensely.  There are only a few clear voices in these matters, who embrace change and technology, but keep a clear eye on what we’re doing with our environment.   I mention here, Bill Nye (Unstoppable) and Bob McDonald (Measuring Earth with a Stick).

Can the Future be a Cornucopia?

What then, of those who give a much more positive narrative of the future?  What about a story where, not only do we not have to give up any of the enormous benefits that we have from living in a modern technologically-advanced society, but things will keep on getting better?  It’s a very appealing story, and as I’ve said elsewhere, it is almost the default story of our culture — the natural extension of Privatopia; the underlying promise of capitalism.  People who promote such a view are called Cornucopians.

Cornucopians love to show graphs of how all aspects of human life have been steadily improving, and they suggest that there is no reason why these improvements will not continue indefinitely.  The matter of limits, which could bring progress crashing to a halt, is either not considered or otherwise just seen as solvable via technology.  Those other graphs — the ones that show the rise in greenhouse gases, the rise in sea levels, the increasing speed of melting glaciers and ice caps, the loss of species, the loss of natural habitats — these graphs are seen as reversible, again, usually by means of technology.

The Cornucopians have ‘facts’ to back up their proposals.  There is plenty of ‘evidence’, as we have seen, to say that growth and improvements to human well-being are on an upward trajectory, and this leads to an apparently logical, but erroneous, conclusion, that this trend will continue.  There is plenty of evidence that technical fixes would work, provided that consequences aren’t scrutinised too closely.

One idea, for instance — one of a number of solutions known as ‘geoengineering’ — is to seed the stratosphere with chemicals, in order to reflect more sunlight back into space and thus cool the planet.  The problem with such ideas is that they layer more and more technical fixes on top of each other, until we become entirely dependent on artificial means of sustaining ourselves.  So, there are technical fixes to address the consequences of geoengineering (acidity of the oceans is one consequence) and then more fixes to address more consequences, and so on.  A similar pattern is repeated for other areas of concern, such as agriculture, health care and species depletion.

Cornucopia does not really have a need for a supporting narrative, because it is already the dominant narrative of modern Western culture (and increasingly of world culture).  We believe implicitly in progress and growth.  Cornucopia, likewise, has no need for political change.  The current systems admirably serve Cornucopia’s aims.  We are however, despite our affluence, on something of a treadmill.  The culture wants us hooked up to our mobiles, laptops and PC’s, either working or buying.  It is a world of increasing stress, with endless things trying to grab our attention, so that we keep viewing, liking, clicking, reviewing and most of all, spending.  It is a bubble world, abstracted from its ultimate reliance on the natural commons, on which it nevertheless must rely.  The financial economy and Artificial Intelligence are prime examples of modern culture completely un-tethered from the real world.

We might well ask if AI and robots will seek to replace the social commons that I have tried to shed light on in this book.  At the time of writing, it does not look too promising (or, threatening, depending on your perspective here).  If the reader has ever tried to have a conversation with a ‘chatbot’ then they will know it can be somewhat uninspiring.  (I usually start by asking them to explain Kant’s categorical imperative, and the discussion does not go well.  Then again, this conversation-starter doesn’t work too well with humans either.)  We would perhaps be needing consciousness before any kind of relationship with AI becomes meaningful.  And could we ever tell if consciousness has really been reached, or is just being faked?  Someone has suggested that we will know when a robot has become conscious when a sexbot first says no.

Another symptom of Cornucopia’s troubles is the paradox of individualism being valorised, but also seen as deeply threatening.  Darren Anderson warns: ‘In the future, of which we are already a part, to be private, amongst many other things, may be deemed an anti-social, radical act.  Solitude may become a vice.  Privacy may be monetised into being a preserve of the rich and well-connected.  We will realise the precious nobility of anonymity when it is gone… To maintain a position of sovereign free-thinking individual, and further, to connect with others, will be an active threat.  This is at the heart of the dystopias.’  This is the strange paradox of modern life.  Community, sharing and solidarity seem to be promoted, but the way these things are manifested is an odd cult of individuals.  We are not really shaping community at all, we are just enduring a fantasy of connection whilst living increasingly isolated lives.  Meanwhile, any genuine community is difficult to achieve — Western culture has just not raised children who can cope with its demands.  Community is an artform that we have largely forgotten.

Cornucopia is a world that is already happening. The ‘lucky’ ones will be safe, but I cannot help but feel there will be a massive underclass who will not be so lucky.  As Anderson suggests, Cornucopia, if it were to succeed, will be a utopia for the few and a dystopia for the many. That dystopia could leave us to be neo-liberal drones — institutionalised, separated from our making, our doing, and our wild selves, plugged in, by default, to a society that keeps us slaving for things we do not need and cannot afford, and watched over by an increasingly paranoid and over-bearing state.

It need not be so bad for Cornucopia though.  One thing they have in abundance is hope.  As I write this in 2020, there remains perhaps a window of a few years when we may solve our climate problems without having to resort to high-tech solutions.  As mentioned in Chapter 8, on nature, such things as regenerative agriculture and permaculture (including ocean permaculture) along with re-forestation and re-wilding, could well be enough to bring the Earth back into balance.  Such ideas take up the positivity of the Cornucopians, and combine them with the respect of nature and care for the planet of the Ecotopians.

Is Ecotopia Enough?

Solving the ecological crisis and addressing issues of sustainability by Earth-bound means, is the province of another of our utopias - Ecotopia. As we’ve seen throughout this book, climate change and ecological sustainability are the major challenges facing the world today.  So the Ecotopians are addressing issues of critical importance. There are some signs of hope, as of this writing.  There is a general acceptance that climate change is really happening.  The use of renewable energy is growing rapidly.  There are moves towards more vegetarian and vegan diets, and reductions in the use of plastics.  But there is a lot still to do.   The general trend in our problems is that things are getting worse. Ecotopia, as we have touched on elsewhere, covers a broad range of ideas.  Here we are looking especially at what kind of future Ecotopia envisages.

Some see the collapse of capitalism, or its deliberate destruction, as a necessary first step towards a sustainable future.  Others see a dramatic  change in climate - a tipping point being crossed — as the key factor.  In response to those suggestions, I simply repeat my earlier message — be careful what you wish for.  Both of these scenarios are risks that we face, not events that we should be welcoming.  Both would bring chaos and a considerable level of suffering.  What we need to focus on instead is the gradual transformation of capitalism to an economy that has kindness and compassion at its heart.  In a similar vein, provided climate change is gradual, then we can adapt as necessary, and find ways to bring things back into equilibrium.

Charles Eisenstein (Sacred Economics) thinks that consumer capitalism has more or less run its course.  As physical resources dwindle, our economic system will be forced to change and a ‘gift economy’ will re-emerge.  In the meantime, any efforts that we might make to thwart capitalism — sharing our work and gifts outwith the moneyed economy — Eisenstein sees as worthwhile preparation for the future.  Eco-village and co-housing projects, which often try to recreate the type of reliant communities Eisenstein favours, he sees as ‘ritual’.  They are an outworking, in micro form, of the transformation that all of society must one day make.   Whilst I admire Eisenstein’s vision, I don’t think we should be waiting around for the future to happen to us. As I’ve said above, premising these changes on the collapse of capitalism is not a very helpful message, even although Eisenstein makes his case in otherwise largely positive language.  I’m not so sure there will be such a crash of capitalism, as Eisenstein suggests, and if it were to happen, I am sceptical that a gift economy would naturally emerge.  It seems more likely that the capitalist world would simply be rebuilt  — perhaps in an improved form, but not necessarily that much different.  If that fails to happen, the alternative is likely to be chaos.

Like Eisenstein, Ecotopians generally do their best to paint an encouraging picture about the changes we need to make.  On the political front though, there is a focus on the small-scale, or politics is simply not mentioned at all.  The changes we require to make however, are difficult and painful.  Sacrifice is required now, and most of us will not live long enough to see the benefits of these sacrifices take effect — it is for our children and grandchildren.  Also, the Ecotopians are up against the problem that everyone asking for changes in society faces — people are not convinced by facts and do not even really listen.  This is especially true when it comes to climate change.  The natural tendency of all of us is to deny information that challenges our current way of life (especially if that way of life is comfortable).

Having said that, ‘sacrifice’ is a relative term, as we touched on in the last chapter.  Perhaps it is wrong to see the sacrifice being about giving up material things or a particular lifestyle.  If we find different pleasures, then it might be that ‘sacrifice’ need hardly be sacrifice at all.  Gandhi spoke about sacrifice in relation to worship.  If we become worshippers of something different, then our sacrifice will likewise mean something different.  Imagine if we became worshippers of beauty, pleasure, silence, slowness and peace (as many of us secretly are).  Our sacrifices may indeed sometimes be material or financial, but that will not be their main focus.  Perhaps I am stretching Gandhi’s meaning a bit here, but if beauty, pleasure, silence, slowness and peace are our worship, then our sacrifices would be in order to achieve these things in our lives and in society at large.  This interpretation shifts the focus away from ‘giving things up’ and towards investing in what we really treasure in life.

Addressing climate change has taken two distinct forms — mitigation and adaptation.  Until very recently, mitigation measures have been along the lines of saving energy and changing to renewable sources of energy generation.  Recently though, we have been starting to see non-conventional ideas such as geo-engineering and direct carbon capture.  In the previous section, we saw some suggestions along the lines of changing our agricultural practices and restoring and protecting wilderness.  Such things are the bridge between mitigation and adaptation.  They could balance the climate and they could fortify Earth’s eco-systems — giving them, and us, resilience into the long-term future.  This seems to be a message that does not look for catastrophe to give us a new start and is not asking people to face severe austerity in order to save the planet.  Those already practising regenerative agriculture, for instance, are seeing higher yields and therefore higher profits than their ‘conventional’ farming competitors with their pesticides and fertilisers.  I’m not saying it will be that easy, but I’m saying that, whilst there are difficulties, there are always reasons for hope.

The man on the bicycle, whose story started this chapter, weathered many storms to be at peace with himself.  So too, society will need to weather storms to be in balance and that balance will be an ongoing struggle to maintain.   But, in the spirit of this book, the alternative story can also be a story about pleasure.  The alternative story could be about beauty, silence, slowness and peace.  It could be about grace, kindness, conversation and humour.  It could be about art, celebration and carnival.  It could be about radical otherness and generosity of soul.  We could combine the optimism of the Cornucopians and the care of the Ecotopians to forge a new story.  In essence this, along with a new respect for the commons and a new approach to polity, is the root of our new story.