Ditching Dualist Language

Language built around the soul (Wikimedia Commons).

In the aftermath of surviving the construction of a mono-syllabic blog post—as an exploration of language’s inherent limitations—it is perhaps time to attempt a post in which the dualist underpinnings of modern language are examined and minimized. As an aside, perhaps “Aftermath” would be a better name for this blog, given its shift of focus from quantitative energy analysis to a broader condemnation of the consequences of modernity.

How is the English language a Trojan Horse for dualism? Several major constructs preserve and promote dualistic thinking. Foremost is personhood: first-, second-, and third-person framings emphasize the primacy of individual agency and ownership. Ownership receives its own possessive pedestal in language construction—present even in this sentence. Pronoun choice then serves to establish possession of personhood—or, significantly in the context of a dualist mindset, lack of personhood denoted by “it” (see this fun solution by Robin Wall Kimmerer). Also looming large, subjects and objects serve to promote a clear duality of agency: something or someone does something to something or someone else. The framing promotes humans as subjects having subjective experiences involving instrumentalized objects. Even the use of “something or someone” two sentences back nurtures a dual classification scheme.

This post will explore some of these pernicious dualistic influences in modern language. Throughout, every attempt is made to use non-personed language—mainly via avoidance of “I”, “we,” etc. Some experimentation will also appear toward the end attempting to break subject/object dualism. Don’t expect too much. It is English, after all, and thus a flawed starting point.

Of course, most people in our culture—imprisoned by dualist convictions and thoroughly steeped in dualist language—would struggle to make any sense of the objections and work-arounds contained herein. Presumably, readers of this blog are more amenable to questioning pervading metaphysical foundations.

Continue reading

Views: 1437

On A Lark

Prose for Neanderthals (Wikimedia Commons)

A few times now I have played a game with friends in which you try to get your team to guess a word on a card by way of hints/words you come up with. What makes it hard is that you may not use long words that need more than one “sound” to speak (yes, there is a word for that, but if I used it here, I would break the rules). If you slip up and use a “big” word, you get bopped on the head with a club (a soft one that is blown up with air from your lungs).

What I found was that my style is not the same as that of my friends. They tend to speak one word at a time, each one picked as a key hint that might—on its own—help close in on the word to be guessed. An example might be that hints for the word “soup” would be words like “hot,” “slurp,” “bowl,” “cup,” “broth.” It gets the job done.

But I tend to speak whole thoughts as a string of words that have nouns and verbs and all the bits that join them—the way we tend to speak in real life. And for the most part, I seem to keep up a pace close to what I can do in day-to-day speech—if not just as fast. In the “soup” case, I might say “It’s a type of food made with broth that you eat or slurp from a bowl or cup: best on a cold day or when you’re sick.” I can tell you that it works well. My friends are so quick to guess the right word when I use this scheme that I don’t make it to the end. It turns out that our brains are well-tuned to this style of speech.

On a lark, I thought I would try to write based on these rules, to see where it might go. So far, so good—sort-of. A few times I have had to go off on a strange path to make my point, when a key thought seems to have no short word that can do the job. But as I wrote more, things took a turn that I had not guessed would come to pass when I set out. The lark took the shape of a post!

Words do not make the world. They can’t catch all that is real. Words can’t give a full sense of how red does not look like blue, or what light is, or how quarks move, or why some things are charged or what charge is, in fact. Words are not up to the task. The world has been here for far more time than words have, so does not and can not work based on them. Words can give no more than a poor, pale sense of the truth of things.

What I want to do in this post, just for fun (well, more than that), is use the rules of this game to show how hard it is to make a strong and clear case for a point that would still be tough to make if I could use all words. I think/hope we can learn from it. When bound to a small set of words, all kinds of wrong views can be spawned in the cracks that are left. But this is true as well when the full set of words can be used, which is—let’s face it—still a small set in the grand scheme of things. In each case, words have no choice but to fall short of the full deal.

Continue reading

Views: 1526

Babylonian Banter

Tower of Babylon (by Jankaka on Wikimedia Commons).

In November I gave a seminar talk for the Planetary Limits Academic Network about why I believe modernity to be a dead-end, while also touching on underlying attitudes that drive us in this destructive direction. When presenting the narrative that sequential development of agriculture, writing, money, science, and fossil fuels collectively constituted a decisive trap leading us to the current state, I got pushback from a few in the audience over the notion of determinism. See my Time on the River post for a flavor of this narrative.

Fans of Graeber & Wengrow’s Dawn of Everything (and there are many, especially in the left-leaning academic circles from which I hail) tend to be—like the authors—allergic to suggestions of determinism. They find the notion very appealing that we could just as well have designed and conjured the ideal technological society: egalitarian, global, peaceful, prosperous, clean, and all the rest. See Abundance as recent example of such eco-modernist fantasy. I was honestly stunned by the gross simplifications in Graeber & Wengrow’s book, which elicited a sharp critique from me.

The moderator of the seminar prodded Chris Smaje, in attendance, to comment on my negative portrayal of agriculture. Chris has written, among other books, A Small Farm Future, runs a blog of the same name, and is generally an advocate of a small-scale agrarian response as a path to exit modernity—which in itself I believe is a fine (transitional) strategy.

The discussion prompted Chris to draft a blog post, which he passed by me to avoid misrepresentation and to solicit comments. We had an engaging e-mail exchange for a bit, and last week his post (By the Rivers of Babylon: debating agrarianism with Tom Murphy) went live. This post offers my follow-up response on the subject.

Continue reading

Views: 3202

Space as a Window

A reflected window on space camp (Wikimedia Commons).

I grew up as a space enthusiast before I grew up. Part of the maturation process involved work on a Space Shuttle project, two decades of uninterrupted funding from NASA, reviewing many dozens of NASA proposals for space/rocket investigations, and serving as Principal Investigator for a mission concept study centered at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory to put a laser transponder on Phobos. Oh, and the most significant chunk of my astrophysics career relied upon the reflectors placed on the lunar regolith by astronaut hands.

No single moment stands out as a crossing of the Rubicon in terms of my migration away from fantasy. But by October 2011 my faith had eroded sufficiently to put out a blog post titled Why Not Space—motivated by responses to the “growth can’t last on a finite planet” drive that initiated this blog. “We’ll just expand into space,” some countered. Note: always beware the word “just,” especially when attached to feats of unprecedented difficulty.

I reprised the theme in Chapter 4 of my textbook (out in 2021), and again a few weeks back. In the last five years, my journey has produced significantly new perspectives (for me) which only serve to make the space delusion more strikingly fascinating and revealing. At this point, it’s hard to identify a phenomenon that so completely captures the religion of the day and its unhinged basis.

Continue reading

Views: 4833

Systems Mindset

World3 model (from Meadows et al., The Limits to Growth, 1972)

Our culture suffers an epidemic of disconnected narrow analyses. Almost every single news article, opinion piece, insight from pundits, bestseller book, or internet screed fails to absorb a broad-enough view to fully contextualize this moment in time. What remains can be effectively useless or invalidated by a more complete and enveloping context.

A small but growing cadre of folks promote “systems thinking,” broadening the boundaries to acknowledge complex relationships “external” to the considerations of typical works. Whether those broader elements involve biophysical, planetary, anthropological, ecological, or more-than-human considerations, the effect can dramatically change conclusions and prescriptions.

So, systems thinking can make positive contributions. But it has a dark side as well. Novice engagement in this heady practice can serve to amplify a nasty human habit of deluding ourselves into believing that we can master it all—that our crude maps are essentially-complete captures of all relevant aspects of the territory. Encouraged by climbing atop a “big-boy” horse without falling off, one might be tempted to think they can gallop their way into a more perfect system for humanity on Earth. I’ll make the argument that the horse of hubris is inherently unrideable, and that the best lesson from systems thinking is that systems tend to be far too complex for our meat-brains to master. We’re not going to think our way to paradise. Any place deserving the name “paradise” has never been constructed by humans, but by a Community of Life over deep time.

Continue reading

Views: 3286

Animistic Physics

Murmuration by Mostafameraji (Wikinedia Commons).

It might seem that animistic beliefs—which prevailed prior to agriculture—would be about as far away from modern physics as possible. Yet, I find them to be rather compatible in a number of foundational ways. Allow me to elaborate. And don’t worry: it’s not about quantum mumbo-jumbo.

What is animism? While not a formal belief system, animists tend to view nearly everything in the world as being animated by spirits or forces beyond our capacity to fully comprehend. We can call these animating agents spirits or “the gods.” Animists live in the hands of the gods along with all other Life: not particularly special. These spirits not only move animals and plants, but also weather, landscapes, oceans, rivers, mountains, rocks, and soil.

Modern languages (reflecting a non-animistic worldview) objectify the world by being noun-dominated—which deeply affects how we think about the world. Animist languages, by contrast, are often verb-dominated (verbal people!), so that verbs are used to connote mountains, rivers, bays, trees, etc.—reflecting the sense that such beings are always in a state of motion and change. What we call a sand bar is “verbalized” as “to be a sand bar”—it is acting as a living, changing, life-interacting entity, or being. Note that the noun “being” itself carries an echo of animism, embodying this state of verbiness, as a variant of “be.” It’s a nounified verb.

An important tip-off as to how animism relates to physics is provided by Daniel Quinn in The Story of B, on page 136.

Animism looks for truth in the universe, not in books, revelations, and authorities. Science is the same. Though animism and science read the universe in different ways, both have complete confidence in its truthfulness.

Below, I outline five (connected) ways that animism meshes well with physics, mirroring a conversation I had with Derrick Jensen that you can listen to here. While very few scientists would volunteer that they have animistic leanings, these connections might make it easier to identify as such.

As an aside, I “privilege” physics here not only because that’s my own background, but because all other sciences appear to rest on (abide by) a physics foundation, often characterized by complexity that eludes first-principles formulations in the style of physics. One might say that chemistry is applied physics, biology is applied chemistry, etc. The word “science” may easily be substituted for “physics” in what follows.

Continue reading

Views: 4686

The Writing on the Wall

Image by Greg Montani from Pixabay.

Almost as if done deliberately to demonstrate mental incapacity, I recently found myself making a connection that was staring me in the face for years but that I never recognized. Surely, scads more sit waiting in plain view, yet will never be smoked by me as long as I live.

In this case, several overt clues tried waving it in my face, but I remained oblivious. I feel like my former best-buddy cat who was always mesmerized by water, never tiring of watching it slosh, splash, and splatter. My wife and I once took the cat(s) on a reluctant car trip passing along the coast of northern California. The road came right up on the beach, and I stopped with the idea that I would show the ocean to him, which would surely captivate his attention and blow his mind. We were so close that the ocean and waves dumping on the beach were almost all that could be seen out the window. I held him up to take in the sight, but in his squirming state—questioning what new cruelty I was subjecting him to on top of this already-heinous and interminable car ride—he somehow managed to completely fail in ever noticing the ocean. But it was right there in front of him! You can lead a cat to water…

Oh—I should get to the point? A couple weeks back, the post on Spare Capacity mentioned the outsized detrimental impact written language has had. I know. Here I am still using it. But like my cat, I failed to notice what kept filling my field of vision.

Continue reading

Views: 4018

Scramble and Cling

Ivan Aivazovsky: La Nona Onda (from Wikimedia Commons)

The mental image is easy to form: it’s just after first light on a morning in 1800 and your wooden ship has sunk after a surprise attack by canon fire. Random bits of wood and spars bob here and there on the waves, and you’ve managed to scramble atop the largest one. The next thing you notice is a horde of rats desperately treading water and aiming for your floating safety—as if vacuuming them from the surface of the sea. Within minutes your haven is teeming with clinging rats. Aside from the rapidly-receding gunboat, the horizon is clear of any other escape from immersion. It’s just you and the rats.

Why bother to describe this scene? It will serve a dual purpose. First, it vaguely mirrors a false impression many have of modernity as the only safe way to live in a perilous world. Second, it serves as an instructive contrast to actual encounters between modernity and tribal people. Both highlight the severe misimpression we have been handed of life outside modernity.

Continue reading

Views: 5265

Eye of Newt

Photo by Tom Murphy

Witches just love to toss “eye of newt” into their bubbling cauldrons, but the docile critters did nothing do deserve such a sinister association. For me, newts have opened a window of appreciation into the broader community of life.

I find solace in asking a newt what it thinks of our politics, our technology, our schemes. The act of asking such questions out loud in the presence of a newt is as silly as it sounds, but only because the subject matter is silly. Conversing with a newt is just basic politeness. The newt is a genius in that it doesn’t waste a single moment caught up in such trivialities. The newt is fully engaged in Life, which is incomprehensibly more amazing, rich, complex, and bad-ass than anything humans have ever—or could ever—create.

In this post, I will explore what a newt’s-eye view can tell us about ourselves and our obsessions.

Continue reading

Views: 5503

Evidence, Please?

I spend a fair bit of time asking myself the question: Am I crazy?

I mean, without really wanting to do so, I seem to have landed on a fringe view within our culture, which is not a comfortable place for me in a social sense. I don’t love it. The easiest—seemingly most likely—explanation for the glaring mismatch is that I’m the one off kilter.

My statement: Modernity (even if defining starting 10,000 years ago) is a short-lived phase that will self-terminate—likely starting this century.

Common response: That’s crazy. Just look around you! We’ve created a new normal. Humans have transcended the bounds of nature—no longer mere animals. Ingenuity has unlimited potential, and we’re really on our way now. This changes everything, and we will never lose our technological mastery, now that we have found it. Modernity is our destiny—and kind-of the whole point of it all.  It’s what makes us truly human.

But let’s look at evidence: like evidence that modernity is a new normal that can go on at least as long as our species is around (relevant timescales are 106±1 years, or a million years plus-or-minus an order of magnitude).

What’s that? Zero evidence? Of course we can’t know. The future is not kind enough to present evidence to the present. Hmmm—maybe that’s because we’re so mean to the future, frantically robbing its lives of Earth’s bounty and biodiversity.

The basic observation that we can receive no evidence from the future cuts both ways, of course. I have no future evidence that modernity will begin shutting down within a century.

However, we are not completely in the dark, here. We know some things (see my previous post on things about which I can be relatively certain).  As obvious illustrations, we can be super-confident that day will follow night in a consistent cycle throughout our lives, that we will each die someday, and that the sun will render Earth uninhabitable on its way to spending its fuel.  In a similar fashion, we can lay claim to a host of other near-certainties even without evidence from the future.

Continue reading

Views: 5593