Month: October 2018

Can we manage all-inclusive honesty?

Of all the challenges facing modern society, I wonder if one of the biggest might be honesty. Often, it seems we’re inclined to conceal, to hide our motivations, or justify them somehow over and above the interests of others. Personally, socially, politically, economically, on every level it seems telling the truth isn’t easy or commonplace.

So, it’s interesting how, surrounding that, technology now seems to be demanding it of us. Well, perhaps not technology itself, but the uses we’re putting it to and functions it’s serving. The internet, providing both a permanent record and a multifaceted reflection of global interactions, seems to be holding people to new standards of accountability in a world where little tends to stay hidden (see Notes One).

Faced with that interconnected web of information, it’s hard to imagine how anything short of complete awareness and relentless transparency can quite stand up. Which is both daunting and exhilarating. It’s hard to speak when your ideas will likely be met with every possible alternative interpretation or perspective. It’s hard to navigate that space when you don’t know what’s going to be thrown at you or how best to respond; and when those responses might linger forever to haunt you.

Ideally, I suppose, it’s through talking that we bridge the gaps between us? Now we’re in this situation where we can come to hear and understand all these different perspectives, we can begin piecing together that bigger picture to understand how our shared past and present impacts different people and places. This sense of communicating, of sharing what we have in common.

But that’s never easy. Even between a handful of people you’ll likely find almost insurmountable differences. The global impacts of history aren’t going to be easily resolved; countries, and the disparate groupings within them, having taken very different paths, reaching different conclusions and feeling vastly different ways about our one, shared reality.

Within all that, where does honesty lie? Is there going to be a simple path, a dominant narrative that succeeds in squeezing out the others? Or is this going to be a more complicated dialogue where we acknowledge mistakes or consequences, put ourselves in the shoes of those who’ve been affected by conflicting priorities, and somehow reach a degree of compromise that might be considered respectfully ‘honest’?

With this new awareness encompassing us all, we perhaps can’t avoid difficult conversations; but how best to approach them is surely still working itself out (Notes Two). Imagining those realities we’re exposed to through the slightly inhuman medium of technology; stretching our sense of self enough to accommodate the divergent experiences of others; evaluating complicated situations wisely are all huge challenges.

Even more so, then, is how we bring young people into that environment (Notes Three). If we’re sweeping away the complex realities that are becoming increasingly apparent, don’t we risk youth losing trust in our logic and sense of responsibility? Broaching such conversations seems so important in a world where we perhaps can’t avoid the truth.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Does anything exist in isolation?
Note 1: History’s role in modern culture
Note 1: What if it all means something?
Note 2: Value in visible impacts
Note 2: Apparent difficulty in finding a voice
Note 2: Listening, tolerance & communication
Note 2: What’s neutral?
Note 3: Ideas around education & responsibility
Note 3: Mirrors we offer one another

Ways to share this:

If society’s straining apart, what do we do?

If we see society as those values and patterns of behaviour that sustain our shared way of life, then what does it mean that modern society seems to be straining apart? Is it that we don’t believe in the values themselves, or in their application? That we don’t trust the system’s acting in our best interest, so we pull back against it? Or maybe we don’t believe in society at all and prefer to act on our own?

And I’m not sure how you get in such a predicament: whether it’s a failing of the processes of educating society in youth or adulthood; whether it results from market forces pulling at social and cultural realities; or if individualism is simply leading to disinterest in collective agreement (see Notes One). Understanding ‘why’ might be useful, but are there too many variables to reach comprehensive, actionable conclusions?

In one light, society’s this interlocking set of systems that evolved around the outworking of certain values: principles or starting points that rose to the surface through the twentieth century and worked themselves into the structures of the West. And whether that’s held together through the incentive of reward, threat of punishment, or conscious intention of understanding might make all the difference (Notes Two).

Alternatively, we might view society as a contract we’re born into, a fundamental part of our identity and a set of commitments we must work ourselves around. Of course, being born into something you could argue we did little to deserve or ask for it: inherited advantages, obligations, struggles being, in a way, ‘unfair’ as they alter a playing field we might hope were equal.

How well society reflects our ideals is a powerful question. As children, we often seek fairness, justice, inclusivity, recognition, acceptance; these basic sentiments around our worth and the place we’re offered within our community. That idealism might be crushed out of people far before adulthood, but conceivably we might be better off if it weren’t: if values found their place.

Really though, perhaps we ‘need’ to understand systems we’re living within? It might be expedient to coerce people with promises or threats, but I’m unsure how stable things are when they’re not based on true understanding (Notes Three). I mean, you can motivate in many ways; but if we don’t appreciate what we’re doing, how it fits, and the value it’s bringing will we care to sustain it?

Practically speaking, it’s our actions that serve to maintain social realities. Our awareness, intention, and consistency create the lives we lead individually and collectively; modelling and upholding those things we know to be important for building healthy, sustainable lives that integrate well with others and with the natural environment. That seems ‘the picture’ of existing consciously of our surroundings.

Maybe we’d be better off if fostering such awareness were woven throughout society? If we had a comprehensive sense of meaning that allowed us to correct areas not fully embodying the values we wish to build our lives around.

Notes and References:

Note 1: What we know to pass on
Note 1: Responsibility in shaping this reality
Note 1: Value in being informed
Note 2: Testing times
Note 2: What holds it all together
Note 2: Working through mind & society
Note 3: Tell me why I should
Note 3: Fear or coercion as motivators
Note 3: Freedom, what to lean on & who to believe
Note 3: Smart to play the system?

Striking a different note in how we might respond to the challenges we’re facing, there was We may as well laugh & Anger as a voice.

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Working through mind & society

With life, there’s how things are then what we make of them – what we think and feel; the picture of the human being that’s emerging from social structures and relationships; how we adjust to those often-flawed realities; and what we offer by way of our responses.

Essentially, to my eyes, societies are these embodiments of certain ideas or patterns of thought. Arising from that, Western society is what it is: this quite specific understanding of life, the value of our lives, and the activities needed to sustain a human community. It’s the principles, values, priorities, and structures put in place that’ve been working themselves out over the years alongside our evolving humanity.

It’s just ideas, then the practical realities engendered by them through the worlds of politics, law, social systems, and the like. This project whereby the finest or most persuasive minds of their time have shaped, reshaped, and projected their views onto the collective endeavour of people co-existing for mutual benefit and support (see Notes One).

Over time, of course, that might’ve drifted, speeding up quite dramatically with the adoption of technology, veering this way or that through the powerful freedom of market forces; until, at times, it can seem a contorted echo of what were presumably quite fine ideals.

Which, again, is what it is: often in life we walk into situations and attempt to make the best of them, drawing on our understanding of what things mean and what matters most within all we find around us. Education hopefully prepares us to see rightly and act freely; the media hopefully keeps us abreast of necessary insights; life itself hopefully doesn’t distract us too greatly from what’s fundamental to the whole project (Notes Two).

And then we each emerge into these realities, touching upon them in different ways, and learning lessons about how we’re valued and the expectations others have for us. If society is embodied ideas, we’re effectively discovering those ideas through our encounters within it.

We learn how others see us, the judgements or assessments they might make based on their own values, understanding or priorities. We learn how society’s set up, the opportunities we’re offered, the values currently in evidence through economic or cultural realities. We learn how people are relating to one another, the level of honesty or manipulation at play, and what’s considered acceptable there.

In all these ways, we’re trying to find that place within society where we feel free, capable, appreciated, recognised for who we truly are, and able to be ourselves without fear of attack, rejection, or coercion (Notes Three). We all have something valuable to offer, and hopefully society is adaptable enough to make space for all those who fall within its parameters.

Hopefully life within society makes sense and honours the valuable presence and contribution of all its members. If not, I’d imagine people will struggle, both inwardly and outwardly, to make peace with and find places of belonging within a community that perhaps doesn’t value us rightly?

Notes and References:

Note 1: The conversation of society
Note 1: Human nature and community life
Note 2: What we know to pass on
Note 2: Writings on Education
Note 2: Value in being informed
Note 2: Freedom, what to lean on & who to believe
Note 2: Desensitised to all we’re told?
Note 3: Complexity of life
Note 3: How we feel about society
Note 3: The philosopher stance

Related to this, both Mental health as a truth to be heard? and David Bohm, thoughts on life explored ideas around how well the mind meets with the realities surrounding it.

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Reference points for how we’re living

Culture can be viewed as all the ways we try to make sense of life; all these responses we have to existence in terms of how we think about it, the kind of things we see as appropriate or admirable, the feelings we have and choices we’re making about how to be within the world.

And it’s interesting, because we can clearly lose ourselves in that world: we can get drawn in so deep that our lives become ‘about’ those who are representing all these things for us. We can become obsessed with observing, deconstructing, commenting on the realities of that realm; caught up in pursuing or imitating what we admire and wish we could become.

Which is what it is. It draws people together over this affinity for themes, expressions, qualities we love or feel resonate most deeply with our own existence and views. Culture, after all, can serve to unite us (see Notes One). And we could indeed make that our identity, taking those reference points and turning them into the constellation of who we are.

It’s a fascinating, reciprocal process of reflection and identification: culture taking aspects of our lives and handing them back to us in different forms. It’s almost society’s looking glass, as we see ourselves perhaps mirrored or distorted through these mediums (Notes Two). This layer of creativity as we play with the forms of our lives, the standards and expectations, meeting or subverting them to see what can be made of it all.

And in many ways that does offer identity. Through seeing how we fit within society’s cultural conversation we see how others might see us, ways life is depicted, options available and how they might play out. This arena for making sense of things, working through them hypothetically, and deciding where we stand in relation to what’s happening there.

The idea of this being a place where society plays itself out intrigues me. Because at some point that’s genuine and then it’s illusion; authenticity blends with pretence as people adopt roles, play parts, and present things from a certain angle. These spokespeople or role models for how we might live, images we might recreate, ways we might act or relate.

Over the years, then becoming this rolling conversation between generations: past moments uniting us as we share responses to these common experiences. This layered, self-referential flow of events we’re all somehow related to. From ancient civilisations through to modern pop culture, there’s phenomena we can all talk about.

But with that comes this sense in which we’re expected to keep pace with the global outpouring of cultural content, that being human means going along with all this and forming opinions around it (Notes Three). At some point, we might wish to limit our exposure to constant flows of commercial innovation in order to live more sane and manageable lives.

There’s obviously great value to cultural life, but knowing where life ends and illusion begins is an intriguing reality to grapple with.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Busking as a gift
Note 1: Cultural shifts & taking a backseat
Note 1: Plato & “The Republic”
Note 1: Missing something with modern culture?
Note 1: “The Measure of a Man”
Note 2: Truth, illusion & cultural life
Note 2: How many aren’t well represented?
Note 3: Value in being informed
Note 3: Will novelty ever wear off?
Note 3: Playing with fire?

Ways to share this:

The dignity & power of a human life

Do people deserve respect? These days we’re often actively encouraged to live our lives passing instantaneous judgement on others, evaluating their every move, but is that right? What does it mean when we lock people in with our criticism, rather than appreciating the fact we’re all on similar journeys in life – all working through our struggles to our own goals?

It’s really quite easy to tear people down. Everyone probably has an Achilles’ heel in some form: some flaw or point of weakness we might attack. Given knocking people down is apparently somehow satisfying, is it that relating more compassionately to another’s experiences seems a drain or burden? Or maybe this is a ‘tough love’ theory: that life’s hard and people should learn to weather such attacks from others?

I’m honestly not sure what the rationale is, and it’s probably clear from my writing here that I don’t see life that way (see Notes One). I mean, it’s so easy to throw words around, not thinking so much about where they land or how they might haunt people; but it seems to me we’re all to some extent working through our difficulties, limitations, suffering, or ignorance about life and how best to approach it. In a way, that ‘is’ life.

Maybe our paths and the choices we make do define us in some ways: shaping who we are as people; our interests, concerns and attitudes; our level of awareness; our identity, by way of image and relationships. And in all likelihood, there’s always going to be room for improvement: almost anything we do is probably imperfect, so we may well feel we’ve been mistaken in the past and could’ve done better.

We might all be imperfect, struggling on in our unique way, making mistakes as we go, but one of the great things about humans is that we can change: once we see things more clearly, we can turn them around. If we’d known better, we probably would’ve done differently. I honestly think we’re all just trying our best to the best of our understanding (barring extreme exceptions, obviously).

So, if people are stumbling, making mistakes, attempting things imperfectly, they’re probably learning. And really, what’s life if we don’t allow people to learn – to move beyond their initial limitations? If we’re demanding and policing ‘perfection’, are we locking people into ignorance for fear of interpersonal conflict?

It’s hard enough to risk something new, to unpack and rework the raw material of your life without that. Because, while I do believe there’s always freedom to change, it’s not easy to get to grips with yourself and decide what to do for the best: do you let the past define you, resigning yourself to that reality; or somehow find courage and insight to overcome what you find there?

Really, I just wonder if we couldn’t make slightly better work of being human – perhaps by extending our understanding of life to others through empowering gestures of empathy, rather than pulling one another down.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Does anything exist in isolation?
Note 1: Living as an open wound
Note 1: “Wisdom” by Andrew Zuckerman
Note 1: The idea of self reliance
Note 1: Value and worth in our relationships
Note 1: Counselling, listening & social identity
Note 1: Pick a side, any side

All of this very much follows hot on the heels of Starting over in life.

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Starting over in life

Often, I wonder how many people are needing to start over; either having to or wishing they could, because things fell apart or didn’t turn out as we might’ve hoped. All those times people find themselves needing the faith, courage and self-belief to somehow start again and perhaps chart different paths from ones they’d been walking to that point.

Life, in various ways, is inherently uncertain and fragile; demanding adaptability and resilience to navigate its paths, chart or correct our course, and pick ourselves up in those times things don’t go to plan (see Notes One). But, what might that even mean? To dismantle our lives, discard that which no longer serves us, give up on broken dreams, and begin again?

How can we pull apart those things that make us who we are, re-evaluate them, decide to leave some aspects aside, or perhaps develop new qualities we’ve never possessed? From what ‘centre of our being’ can we make such higher-level decisions about our existence? And, if we’re actively choosing to leave parts of ourselves behind, on what ground do we find confidence for doing so?

Because, in many ways, we live in a world that looks back to determine our worth, identity, capability, character, etc. We turn to the past, the picture it paints, to discover ourselves through the evidence we find there. If, in doing that, we see much we’d rather change, where do we find the courage or certainty? Can we conclude, despite it all, that we have more to offer? To believe in ourselves.

It’s so easy to look back, see evidence of failure, and decide to give up. Whether it’s relationships, dreams, projects, social ties, mistaken paths or other struggles, it may be we reach the point of reviewing our lives and see the need to give up or start over in some or all ways (Notes Two).

Yet our world often wants to hold people hostage to their past. Because, of course, our paths tell a story; but are we interpreting it rightly or perpetuating this limited understanding of human development and difficulties people can experience inwardly or outwardly? How open are we to letting people change? To believing in them, beyond the impression their reality might be giving us?

In very real ways, we cannot change the past. In equally real ways, we can keep it in hand and be forever bringing it into the present where it might serve to stop us diving into what the future might hold. Whether those processes are personal or collective, we can either nail people to the wall or gracefully allow them room to develop something new (Notes Three).

It’s interesting, the process of being human: we expect so much, in idealistic realms of thought, but reality’s another matter. Making our way through life – its practical, social, psychological intricacies – doesn’t seem as straightforward as we might make out. Letting ourselves change, letting others change, letting something new come about, seem exciting but challenging paths to walk.

Notes and References:

Note 1: We’re all vulnerable
Note 1: Living as an open wound
Note 2: What is acceptable?
Note 2: The need for discernment
Note 2: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 3: Need to suffer in order to change?
Note 3: Conversation as revelation

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Ideas of justice & vengeance

When it comes to life, things clearly aren’t ‘fair’. It’s something children feel very strongly, until they acclimatise to the adult society they’re finding themselves within. Yet it’s something adults also rail against in light of social, criminal and economic realities or the various perils of mortal existence. There are so many ways life seems unfair, so many times we cry out for some form of justice.

I’m not sure what that is, our innate sense of wanting fair treatment. Maybe it’s simply that we ‘know’ we’re all humans, all alike, and treating anyone differently creates this cognitive discomfort at the ways of the world? But, in reality, our actions generally impact others: we put our own interests first in ways that might impede others’ chances.

This world isn’t fair and can’t offer true justice. Things cannot be undone; we can’t iron out consequences of choices that were made. We might look back and see what we wish had happened, we might be haunted by paths that cannot now be walked, we might hope to redress things, but all that’s after the fact.

In our minds we might see all that’s been lost and who’s to blame – that’s a version of reality which can be conjured up in the world of thought, with hindsight, but we cannot get that back. It’s perhaps one of the hardest things in life: to see the past most clearly, yet be powerless to change it.

The point of power always being in the present, justice is essentially this looking back and deciding what can be done to somehow ‘set things right’. Whether that’s some form of financial compensation, of punitively limiting a perpetrator’s future, or attempting to eradicate wrongdoers from society to protect others. We stand in the present and we try to alter the future to make up for the past.

So much of life seems to be this attempt to redress the balance, to create equality and freedom for all people. Which is such a beautiful thing, such a valuable social function. But it’s not easy to get right.

Life’s so imperfect: people are imperfect, often wounded works in progress; society likewise is an imperfect realisation of high ideals (see Notes One). We might try to guide people, limit opportunities for wounds to be inflicted, implement regulation to establish the conditions for humanity to safely flourish, but our ideas often seem similarly imperfect.

Battling against human nature could perhaps be given as a definition of society? Trying to find systems to contain our darkness while guiding us toward the light. It’s a fascinating topic, as explored in this Guardian article about the “desire for vengeance”: ideas of retribution, harking back to Greece in 500BC, apparently standing firmly at the roots of social, cultural, and personal development.

Our search for justice might be almost timeless, but it’s still interesting to consider its modern forms, its place within social realities, and how law or media might voice, frame and process our very human sentiments.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Living as an open wound
Note 1: Dealing with imperfection
Note 1: What if it all means something?
Note 1: What holds it all together
Note 1: Does anything exist in isolation?

Ways to share this:

Leaders & sheep led by a lion

The nature of leadership can be fascinating to consider: what does it mean to entrust ourselves to another, to defer our decisions to their judgement or guidance? And what might they make of us, if they turn our own nature to their way of being?

Reflecting on the sentiment expressed by Alexander the Great, that “I am not afraid of an army of lions led by a sheep; I am afraid of an army of sheep led by a lion”, it dawned on me there’s far more to leadership than meets the eye. That, beyond superficial appearances, the guiding principle might be what ultimately matters most.

Essentially, we’re talking about the qualities of followers and of their leaders: that first army, while unlikely, would presumably be a fairly peaceful affair; the latter, though, may be both easy to assemble and inclined toward aggression. But perhaps we’re also touching on the nature of fear and combat? The sense of knowing our own aims and capacities, and deciding when it’s wise or necessary to engage.

As an idea, it raises a lot of questions around the qualities represented by animals, the constraint of commitment or discipline, and the purpose of conflict (see Notes One). Also, around knowing what we’re doing in life and what we’re faced with: being able to read things rightly. In battle, as with anything, we might look to how things appear on the surface or to what lies beneath.

And, while direct conflict isn’t seeming so far from the surface at times these days, for me this speaks more to the question of which side we’re on in more everyday matters. Because it often seems we’re taking sides through our choices, or, being asked to: in almost every area of life our words and actions are placing us on one side or another politically, commercially, socially, and so on (Notes Two).

With this polarisation of society, it’s surely more important than ever to know ourselves, where we stand, and the nature of those around us. Are we a willing army, or is our subservience hard-won? Do we know our own principles, strengths and weaknesses? Could our subconscious patterns or wounds be used against us? Are we rational and confident in our decisions, or might we be easily swept along with others?

Then, in terms of leaders, are we really aware who exactly is seeking to direct and shape our behaviour? Do we know their nature and the aims they might have? Are we following those who avoid unnecessary conflict, rather than seeking out or inciting it? If we’re deferring our judgement or lending weight to someone else’s cause, it certainly seems wise to understand those realities rather than passively becoming part of them.

As individuals, maybe it comes down to knowing yourself and not being drawn into the wrong battles? Also, to knowing what we’re facing; as one of those scenarios is instinctively far more fear-inducing than the other. Managing fear perhaps depends on insight and thorough understanding?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Does truth speak for itself?
Note 1: The idea of self reliance
Note 1: Animals in human society
Note 2: Obligations and contributions
Note 2: Freedom, what to lean on & who to believe
Note 2: Codes of behaviour

On a slightly related note, Spiritually committed literature explored other imagery around finding and following our own paths.

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Things change, over time

Over time, I’d imagine any pattern of behaviour begins to create a groove – an atmosphere; a sense of intention or complacency; a static friction, perhaps, of accumulated focus. As we live our lives, those things we do becoming these established channels of thought, repetition and consequence through the choices we’re making and our commitment to them.

Like those places of ritual or worship, where people over the centuries have walked certain paths and filled certain places with thoughts of devotion; running their minds along these established tracks of contemplation. Places that can come to have a special feeling about them, perhaps the result of the sustained manner in which they’ve been occupied.

You can even see where people’s feet or knees have literally worn away stone through the insistence of their presence. As with the proverbs about dust turning into mountains or drops forming oceans, there’s this sense in which small accumulating gestures can develop great strength over the years; working away at things we might’ve thought were immovable or impossible to achieve.

But then, sometimes, such places get repurposed for drinking or housing and there’s almost this jarring sense of dissonance at a building built and occupied with the mindset of collective reflection suddenly having a very different purpose in mind. Centuries of one kind of devotion being replaced with quite different vibes and patterns of activity or intent.

Which is meant as an observation more than a complaint – a sign of the times, perhaps. Because, of course, things change. Ways of being that’ve sustained countries, cultures, civilisations, or communities for years can presumably fade out rather quickly if the coming generations don’t see their value or decide to maintain them in some new form. Anything that’s worth isn’t recognised clearly risks being left by the wayside.

As times change, our ways of being arguably need to change with them: repeating worn out actions that bear little relation to the world around you doesn’t really stand to reason. Sometimes, insisting on doing things as you always have can be a mistake. Understanding what’s valuable within what we inherit from the past seems a fascinating challenge (see Notes One).

Because, if appreciating something comes from understanding it, do we run the risk of discarding incredibly worthwhile things simply by not taking the time to come to know them? It seems an important question; especially given the overwhelming distractions of our times. What if we’re missing out on things, breaking up essential structures or patterns of relationship because we don’t see their value? What if we’re mistaken?

I’m purely thinking hypothetically here – theoretically, conceptually, rather than specifically – but what if the thoughts we think, the ways we’re acting, how we relate to one another, all the patterns we’re building up with our lives really matter?

Sometimes I’m really not sure where my writing’s headed, wandering off along these pathways I can barely see through the undergrowth. At times that might take me somewhere imminently worthwhile, even if I’m still unsure where.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Seeing, knowing and loving
Note 1: Letting go of “who you are”
Note 1: All that’s going on around us
Note 1: Cost and convenience
Note 1: History’s role in modern culture
Note 1: How things change

Other ideas around the topic of change were the focus of Can we reinvigorate how we’re living?

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Mathematics of life

Many aspects of modern living seem merely transactional: we trade money, or something akin to it, for these experiences and products that make up our lives. Of course, we can always craft arguments whereby everything comes down to money; but is this really the only way?

On so many levels, we’re reduced to numbers; economic calculations standing in the place of human estimations as we judge someone’s worth and the weight of their opinion based on financial rather than intrinsic concerns. It’s as if there’s this dual voice within our language about the value of life.

And while that’s not new, it’s certainly becoming quite predominant within the conversation of how we’re living (see Notes One). Money seems to be stepping into the structures of society and human activity, making many relationships simply economic: everything has a price, can be traded and made to stand against anything else. Money as this equaliser in a way; making things quantifiable and relatable.

We might add up our cost – all we’ve spent or invested in education, image, lifestyle, and countless other categories – and label ourselves with those figures. Every life could conceivably be presented as this balance sheet of incomings, outgoings, and conclusions around the financial outcome of their existence.

Many parties seem to be performing such evaluations and treating people accordingly. Social media reach and other projections having made our “power” much more tangible, there’s presumably an actual sum making someone’s voice worth listening to? Technology’s effectively made our lives quantifiable through data, making it possible to reduce our presence on earth to finite calculations.

That now often being the measure of us – economic power and online presence – it’s seemingly becoming how we judge and approach one another. I’m wondering if this thinking’s not changing our relationships and ways of being in the world? As social and intelligent creatures, we’re inevitably reading our environment and responding to it; our attitudes, behaviour, and values adapting to modern realities.

Much of government policy seems purely financial: calculations around the costliness of our lives; attempts to incentivise or discourage courses of action; little tweaks to make society more viable as an economic enterprise. And don’t get me wrong, I understand that’s one very important way of analysing life and planning it wisely; but it’s not the only way.

Life being equated with money just troubles me, as it seems any other voice struggles to be heard in the face of it (Notes Two). So often, people seem to pursue something they truly believe in – careers, business endeavours, interests – only to have the life sucked out of it by mathematical calculations that are swamping every other way of approaching things.

As humans, we stand in relation to one another. Some might’ve inherited greater power or opportunity by the nature of our social systems, but, essentially, we’re all the same. Money equalises in the sense of meaning anything can be exchanged within our marketplaces, but it has limits and surely can’t account for our worth as people?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Language and values
Note 1: Obligations and contributions
Note 1: Economy & Humanity
Note 1: Morality and modern thought
Note 2: I am not just a sum
Note 2: Intrinsic worth over social identity
Note 2: How it is / Selling out
Note 2: Worthless, or priceless?

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