The value of a questioning attitude?

Where do we go to with thinking? How far do we go into the nature of thought, the content and origin of our own thinking, or the paths thought’s taken over the years and into modern life?

Often it seems we’re thinking with thought as it’s handed down to us – picking up the ideas immediate or more distant generations and thinkers have handed over (Notes One). That flow of evaluation, judgement and conclusion that leads people to present certain ideas or trains of thought as definitive, unquestionable, worthwhile accepting pretty much on face value and building our lives around.

Which is what it is. This ongoing “game” of passing things down the line, casting some aside while placing others on pedestals. That perpetual conversation of society, civilisation, humanity, as we hope we’re choosing wisely and creating something that’ll be valuable, sturdy, and stand the test of time. Thought, effectively, building its structures into our lives by way of politics, education, culture, and other public voices (Notes Two).

But it also seems many thoughts are so close to us that we don’t see them as such, instead taking them as facts or parts of our identity in some way. Those ways of thinking we don’t question, accepting them as a given when, really, they’re already a substantial body of thought packed full of assumptions, attitudes, premises and conclusions all nestled right in there.

It’s interesting, because thought’s such a powerful instrument (Notes Three). It’s capable of cutting through centuries of ideas and customs to draw penetrating or dismissive conclusions. It can cast aside countless personal experiences and, in their place, offer compelling or impressive statements others might embrace as true. In the West, it seems we can think what we like, much as that’s impacting the world around us.

How disciplined we are in the use of thought then seems fascinating to question. When you place the proliferation of facts, perspectives and opinions the internet’s offering on top of that freedom to think as we please it seems as much an impressive recipe for disaster as it is a chance at progress, awareness or resolution.

In all that, where do we draw the line? How far should we explore the nature of thought and cast its penetrative gaze? Do we stop at the foundations that society tells us are the ground under our feet, or should we also draw all that into question? How much time or effort will we dedicate to gaining a firm sense of exactly where we stand and why, before we’re confidently striding forth to make changes?

Can we find the intellectual certainty to question the very ground we’re standing on? If it can’t withstand questioning, are we even that secure? Or, if it’s not essential to fully understand thought’s foundations, how certain can we ever be in chains of reasoning? If life’s too distracting to consider the bigger picture, where does that leave us? Does it even matter? Given understanding informs our actions, surely it must.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Caught in these thoughts
Note 1: The sense of having a worldview
Note 2: What you’re left with
Note 2: Do we know what we’re doing?
Note 2: Who should we trust?
Note 3: Strange arrogance of thought
Note 3: The philosopher stance

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Right to look out for ourselves?

Are we mistaken, thinking mainly of ourselves? We live in a time of such great individualism and independence – personal experiences, feelings, desires, interests, concerns all vying for attention on our new global stage – but there’s still this collective side to existence, where nobody ever exists in isolation.

And I wasn’t being facetious about personal freedom being “great” as it truly is, in many ways (Notes One). So much good seems able to come from the individualism of the West: possibilities for overcoming limitations and finding new ways, ironing out problems, acknowledging mistakes, then having frank conversations about how best to resolve things and bring these valuable ideals to greater effect in our lives.

But, all that aside, there’s surely a point where thinking of yourself is problematic? Where does it lead if we continue thinking that way? Where will it leave society, its relationships, or the systems we all exist within? It really seems this personal freedom can be a blessing or a curse: we might use it wisely, considerately, constructively; or we might pull against things, creating problems now or storing them up down the line.

It’s as if we’ve really embraced this idea of being an island: each person the ruler of their own domain, free to do as we will, setting our own rules, refusing any notion of guidance, tradition or external constraint. But we still share space. We obviously share physical space – geographically, environmentally – where choices and behaviours have noticeable impacts, but also social space in all those ways our lives intersect.

What does it mean if we’re each insisting on operating independently? Acting, perhaps, out of imperfect understanding or personal woundedness? I honestly doubt anyone truly has a full understanding of everything that’s going on in our world, much as we might confidently act as if we do. Presumably, then, it’s a world filled with flawed but generally well-meaning activities? (Notes Two)

And, as with almost anything, there’s a circularity here that makes answers difficult to find and questions hard to articulate. How should we best manage our independence? What’s the right relationship to form with the various collective systems we also undeniably form part of? What personal choices are we making that might be more problematic than they’re worth? Are we only valuing life now, or also into the future?

Parts of our shared social systems being there to look out for us in that future, acting in ways that’ll create difficulties there might wisely be viewed as problems “now”. Similarly, all the ways our choices feed into or touch upon wider global situations – remote conflicts, socio-economic realities, environmental or climatic concerns – might well be creating imbalances that’ll almost inevitably play out at some future point.

Understanding the complexity of what humans have spun over the planet seems so important if we’re to operate well within it (Notes Three). And we can, of course, choose to focus on our own interests, but I wonder whether people down the line will still have that luxury.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Freedom, what to lean on & who to believe
Note 1: Dystopia as a powerful ideal
Note 2: In the deep end…
Note 2: Living as an open wound
Note 2: Making adjustments
Note 3: Does anything exist in isolation?
Note 3: If society’s straining apart, what do we do?
Note 3: Does it matter if others suffer?
Note 3: We’re all vulnerable
Note 3: Interdependency

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Absolute or relative value

Is our value absolute or relative? Is it a constant, despite our flaws and struggles, or something we have to work ourselves up to? And, does that value only lie in other people recognising it, understanding us, seeing our worth, and making space for us within their own existence? If others don’t appreciate who we are, does that mean our value’s not then a reality?

It’s something I find intriguing because, theoretically, someone could be bringing something immensely valuable to life while all those around them see it as nothing. If we only see, recognise or appreciate that which we know and understand (Notes One), then it’s entirely possible that many excessively worthwhile things might simply be passing us by.

And, finding this in equal parts fascinating and fundamental, it’s something I’ve already touched upon a few times (Notes Two): these ideas of human worth, social relationships, communication, and the attitudes with which we approach other people. Do we value people rightly? Are we viewing others mainly in terms of how they compare to us, ways they might assist us, and so forth? Does it matter how we view other people?

Surely, it’s fundamental to life? How we relate to one another, the worth we assign each human life, “is” this foundation on which both society and personal existence are built: this world of meaning that, hopefully, guides our behaviour and gives our lives purpose (Notes Three). To me, everything in life holds meaning and all our actions are “saying something” on that level about the value of what we see around us.

Often, though, it seems we’re tending to view things in that relative sense of “what things mean to or about us” rather than looking to the absolute meaning of any given thing, then relating ourselves to that. Is it an important distinction? That’s perhaps for us to decide.

It must make a difference? If we’re using ourselves as the benchmark – evaluating everything against our own experiences, identity and choices – then we’re presumably judging many things, criticising, labelling as wrong, or perhaps attacking in the hope they’ll come around to our way of thinking. What does that create socially or in terms of communication? What’s the interpersonal atmosphere that’s creating?

This post is seeming more exploratory than some, perhaps because I’m unsure what exactly I’m grasping for. Is it this sense of judgement? The ways we’re evaluating one other and seeing difference as something to be conquered? Is the concept of “overcoming” our differences a picture of “one viewpoint eliminating the other” or a picture of expanded awareness where differences all have their place?

As ever, there aren’t easy answers: life’s complex with much to be resolved (Notes Four). It’s just that, for me, part of that seems to lie in acknowledging the complicated truth of our personal and collective lives. Things impact us all, imperfection’s pretty much baked in at this point, yet somehow it seems important to see how, beneath that, there might be absolute value.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Seeing, knowing and loving
Note 1: Counselling, listening & social identity
Note 1: The way to be
Note 2: Relating to one another
Note 2: Value and worth in our relationships
Note 3: The power of understanding
Note 3: Do we need meaning?
Note 3: This thing called love
Note 4: The dignity & power of a human life
Note 4: Dealing with imperfection

Other ideas about the worth of life and the challenges we face were the focus of both “The Measure of a Man” and Finding flaws.

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Different places, different ways

Is it possible to mix up our countries’ educational methods? As if all that’s going on in that realm is in some way separate from the rest of society, something that can be lifted up and transposed elsewhere as with other products and services.

I’ve talked before about education growing out of and within the history, customs and practices of any given society (Notes One). How the task of educating sits within its community, drawing upon the attitudes, knowledge and outlooks surrounding it to form the foundation on which understanding is built and the environment into which that understanding then finds its way.

Any process of education must serve its community: helping people to see where they stand, what’s expected of them, how we came to this point, and the main challenges that society’s facing. It’s perhaps a process of acclimatisation or enlightenment where we’re revealing what’s going on and all that’s gone into it? Handing over that social, cultural and human insight to those who need it.

But then, every community’s experiences and lessons are presumably different? Even within fairly homogeneous societies there must be countless perspectives, interpretations and agendas at work: different ideas around what things mean, how we should act, or what ultimately matters most within our world (Notes Two).

That relationship between what’s taught and the world we’re living in must matter. As do the attitudes with which we approach the task of education and the authority of those imparting it. Do we trust what we hear? Do we respect those within society who’ve decided to spend their lives bringing knowledge and awakening understanding in coming generations? Do we feel that’s an important and worthwhile endeavour?

We seem to live in a time where there’s not a great deal of respect for authority or the opinions of others, which must be problematic for both education and society as a whole. If we don’t trust those handing down humanity’s lessons or value that process of social, generational interchange, where does that leave us as people?

Of course, times change. And I suspect there’s a certain wisdom to the doubt and questioning of authority that’s been seeping into Western society (Notes Three). But still, it’s reshaping things: what does it now mean to step into community and relate yourself to what’s gone before? It often seems we’re losing the capacity or inclination to really listen, to relate respectfully to others.

Back to the point, though. Surely educational systems from, say, Finland or China cannot just be placed into another location. If teaching grows out of social attitudes, realities and experiences then all the countless assumptions and principles underpinning those methods “must” build on the world those involved are living within. Taking aspects elsewhere, inevitably, places them out of context.

Not to say there’s not a great deal we can learn from one another, just that this must be more complicated than simply adopting particular techniques. As with any cross-cultural pollination, understanding how everything relates seems so incredibly important.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The social metaphor of education
Note 1: Respect, rebellion & renovation
Note 1: What we know to pass on
Note 1: Meaning within it all
Note 1: Can we manage all-inclusive honesty?
Note 2: Freedom, what to lean on & who to believe
Note 2: Things change, over time
Note 2: What really matters
Note 3: How important is real life?
Note 3: Interdependency
Note 3: Right to question & decide
Note 3: Making adjustments

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Do we know what we’re doing?

When it comes to culture – all the ideas, images, thoughts we’re entertaining in our minds – I often find myself wondering if we really know what we’re doing. I mean, we can think and watch all manner of things, but where does it lead us and is that wise?

I suppose it comes down to the significance of what we have in mind. Does it matter? Are our heads simply these filters, these torchlights or screens where it’s really not important what’s passing in front of or through them? If something’s “out there”, are we right to take it all in and reflect upon it or is there some need for discernment in how we’re directing our thoughts? (Notes One)

It seems important to question how we’re using our minds. Clearly, they’re there. Like it or not, they’re constantly absorbing and processing all that’s going on around us – drawing conclusions, forming opinions, having reactions, awakening memories, all these often-subconscious internal processes whereby “the mind” apparently seeks to help us make sense of life.

Within all that, we then have “culture” which seems to be this more intentional collective process of reflection that’s, in some way, seen to serve society as well as individuals (Notes Two). It’s seemingly this place where we mull over all that’s gone before and all that might follow; pulling together all these ideas from society, different times and places, and arranging them differently to see what meaning might emerge.

It’s perhaps this space where people with a degree of vision identify those issues concerning society, placing them into some form of relief so we’re better able to notice their significance and how they relate to what’s around them. It’s a strange process, in many ways, and hard to pin down. But it’s surely some form of thought, as we attempt to make sense of and respond to our world.

And maybe its value then lies in those responses? That added layer of interpretation, awareness or conversation that serves to mitigate or mediate its influence? Almost a process of digestion, whereby we reflect upon what’s actually being said about society and what our response to that should actually be. This potentially highly significant additional stage of mental processing (Notes Three).

Otherwise, what exactly are we allowing into our minds? All these images of society’s problems, risks, challenges, and so forth? So many depictions of disaster, evil, conflict or disregard for the value of life. Of course, that’s not all that’s there, but it certainly seems to form an increasingly large proportion of what’s offered within modern culture.

What does it mean to see such images and entertain such thoughts? Is it priming us with fear, readying us to see society’s ideals falling further into disrepair, or calling up in us a sense of awareness and commitment that might lead us to defend such principles? If our minds are the places we make sense of life and decide on our courses of action, are we truly using them wisely?

Notes and References:

Note 1: What are we thinking?
Note 1: Who should we trust?
Note 1: What’s neutral?
Note 2: Culture as reflection
Note 2: It resonates, but should it be amplified
Note 2: Reference points for how we’re living
Note 2: Truth, illusion & cultural life
Note 2: Playing with fire?
Note 3: Do we need meaning?
Note 3: The sense of having a worldview
Note 3: Ideas the tie things together

Going even further back, Plato & “The Republic” held some interesting thoughts about the power of ideas.

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This thing called love

Love really seems this fundamental force, driving so much of what we do in life. And, obviously, that can get played upon, confused with other things and twisted into many contorted versions of itself – as any force can be, if misdirected. Beyond that, though, there’s clearly a very human need to love and be loved, whatever that might mean.

To a large extent, aren’t we all driven by love? By the desire for understanding, acceptance, recognition. By the hope of belonging: a place we feel at peace, free to be ourselves, completely at home. That space we can trust, open up without fear, and have all our dreams and difficulties acknowledged while we’re working our way through them.

At its core, love seems this powerful, complete acceptance and appreciation of who we are as people on our journeys: a recognition of where we’ve come from, ways that shaped us, the things we hope to bring into life and those we’re struggling to leave behind. Humans truly seem more works in progress than finished products, much as modern society might try to tell us differently (Notes One).

And, pushing the boundaries of that, might the challenge of life itself be in extending that courtesy of love to all humanity? Past, present, future, near or far. This sense of treating everyone with loving respect, concern and consideration so we’re all able to offer what we can while fulfilling our needs and overcoming our inevitable obstacles. We’re all human, all essentially the same, all seeking that recognition from others of our kind.

We might hope we’ll find such acceptance within family, friendships, romance, community or society more broadly: that we’ll be seen for who we truly are and what we’d like to make of ourselves; valued for our presence and all we have to offer by way of unique talents, insights or strengths; and allowed to be the flawed, wounded, learning people we almost inevitably are (Notes Two). If we’re all the same, how could we act otherwise?

When people don’t feel loved, deserving of love or capable of expressing it, that evidently causes serious problems for them, those around them, and society as a whole. So, rather than schmaltzy, sentimental, self-serving notions of love or coldly psychological assessments of someone’s “need for validation”, might love not be an eminently practical and essential foundation for healthy human coexistence? (Notes Three)

Often though, this very human need for recognition seems to be played upon or made light of as a means for personal, commercial or societal control: natural insecurities around our worth, value, and place within social relationships dovetailing into various industries that, at times, seem to be feeding or capitalising on all this. It’s clearly an effective button to press.

Is it possible to act only out of love? Globally as much as personally, how might that change things? Instead of this being misdirected down ultimately unfulfilling and often circular avenues, could it actually become an incredibly beautiful and potent force for change?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Worthless, or priceless?
Note 1: The dignity & power of a human life
Note 1: Cycles of mind & matter
Note 1: Culture as reflection
Note 2: Starting over in life
Note 2: Letting go of “who you are”
Note 2: How we feel about society
Note 2: We’re all vulnerable
Note 2: Masks we all wear
Note 3: And, how much can we care?
Note 3: Seeing, knowing and loving
Note 3: Love of self

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The difference humanity makes

When humans are involved in something, it’s different. It might still be either good or bad, but it’s always different from when we’re not directly present or involved. It’s true of technology, of culture, of relationships in general: we bring something different, something unique, something perhaps unquantifiable to whatever it is we’re doing.

With live music, it’s a human being who’s brought themselves to that particular place to perform from the depths of their own being for those who are also physically present in that moment. It’s a human with all that they are: all the discipline, talent, belief and effort needed to personally be there and deliver what they have to offer. It’s a sound that’s emerging from a human reality, from within a complex personal journey.

And that’s just not the same as flipping a switch, clicking on a track, or having something queued up from goodness knows where. Not to sound archaic or overly nostalgic, it’s simply another level of intention and presence that goes into those two extremes of musical experience. When a human soul is present, singing out of the richness of experience, offering up hard-won insights, it’s just different (Notes One).

Much the same as a human delivering the news is fundamentally different from an artificial simulation of one. The human, hopefully, feels and cares about the meaning, significance and consequences of the words they’re having to say. It’s communication: conveying information, facts and sentiment to others. It’s a social reality, emerging from our human realities, being spoken into that community by one of its members.

Words originating from humans must be essentially different from those emerging from technology, and that seems important: what we add to mere sound, mere language. These days, so much is already mediated through text, through naked words we must then imbue with our own sense of meaning, feeling and interpretation – this veritable echo chamber of cold, hard, disembodied language (Notes Two).

Technology, artificial intelligence, all these things might be able to offer “more” than us in some ways, but can never truly replace us. It’s different when a human listens: contextualising your words and tone against the shared background of human experiences, struggles and dreams. Perhaps it’s the fact another person’s simply present, letting your reality into their space and, hopefully, responding with compassion and belief.

So, while so much in our lives is being stripped back – social infrastructure, traditions, patterns of relationship and communication being just some of them – it’s surely important to remember what it is to be human (Notes Three). Some of that might be “easily” replicable by technology and maybe we’re at the point where we barely notice what’s lacking, but might we be mistaken in discounting our own worth so easily?

The struggle to find the right place, balance and role for technology within human society is a fascinating and dark reality; but I would’ve thought that valuing the depth, complexity and feeling contained within us all might be worth keeping in mind.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Busking as a gift
Note 1: Music and its power to inspire
Note 2: Tone in public dialogue
Note 2: What’s neutral?
Note 2: Value in being informed
Note 3: Cutting corners
Note 3: All that’s going on around us
Note 3: How important is real life?
Note 3: Conversation as revelation
Note 3: Having boundaries
Note 3: The human spirit

For a different set of ideas about how we, as humans, might make peace with technology, there’s Matt Haig’s “Notes on a Nervous Planet”.

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Economy as a battleground

This idea of economics being the management of what we all need – the means by which needs are met through natural resources and human ingenuity – intrigues me (Notes One). It’s this sense that we all, the world over, are plugged into this system of environment and endeavour; all hoping to make ends meet and live lives based around respect for human life and the value of life itself.

But, of course, it becomes more than that. It’s this pursuit of profit, power, influence, control, domination. It’s a means by which many are pushed down while others rise above – a manifestation and continuance of inequality. Because, of course, it has history. There were those who, in times past, held the reins at decisive moments and benefited from what was then in their hands. Like a strange game of pass the parcel.

That might be simply a fact of life, but it’s interesting to see how power’s inherited that way and how that’s justified personally or socially. It does slightly fly in the face of ideas around human equality and worth (Notes Two). Because, ultimately, economic realities are a source of power and a means of exerting it: conditions can be attached, resources withdrawn, access limited, and people feel it.

It’s surely a means of conflict? We might talk of trade wars as essentially economic problems, but they’re also a method whereby those more abstract realities exert pressure on the everyday lives of people. Each country having its own economic life, conditions at the boundaries are as real as geographical or political divides – points where conflict can arise, interests diverge, and lines be drawn.

Then it’s an area where ideology plays a part. It’s a method for hurting other countries, a means of leverage whereby you might create increasingly difficult internal conditions that become personal, social and political problems. It’s essentially putting your own interests before the interests of others, in the short or longer term. It’s us versus them, and the justification of such thinking. As if we’re not all the same.

Historically, it’s often a precursor to tangible physical conflict: those exacerbating conditions having wounded the pride or worn out the patience of populations to the point where things spill out into more overt interactions. It’s clearly this very powerful pressure point that can bring ideological or political differences into the lives of citizens through the backdoor of indirect economic forces.

But without even going so far as the issue of global politics, it’s potent on smaller scales (Notes Three). Economic realities divide us within our societies, carving up the landscape and leaving people on different sides of those fences. Every consumer decision we’re making plays into such complex international arrangements, creating conditions that repress some and elevate others.

It’s spun through all our lives, every action being a means to change or be changed by others. It’s fascinating while also being largely invisible: this incredibly powerful force that’s shaping lives, impacting landscapes, and creating the future we’re walking into.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Cycles of mind & matter
Note 1: Obligations and contributions
Note 1: Points of sale as powerful moments
Note 2: Mathematics of life
Note 2: Worthless, or priceless?
Note 2: What we bring to life
Note 3: Interdependency
Note 3: Would we be right to insist?
Note 3: Relating to one another

Leading on from this, Values on which we stand firm? looked at the idea of what might stand in the place of economic gain.

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Would we be right to insist?

At times I feel a reticence around activism, mainly due to the kinds of social or personal conversation it can ignite and whether it’s possible to approach that respectfully while still allowing for all our different stories, experiences and priorities (Notes One). But then, what if – while we all see things our own way – what matters to us is all truly important and needs addressing?

What if all these things really shouldn’t be pushed aside as the world ploughs on as it has been? In all areas of life, improvements could be made, understanding deepened, and values brought to better effect (Notes Two). Which brings us back round to some form of activism: seeing the need for change and believing in it enough to take action in words or deeds.

We all have areas of deeper or broader insight: things we’ve encountered, looked into and come to see the importance of. We each see things our own unique way and, those perspectives having arisen out of all the moments of our lives, they’re often deeply felt. Presumably, everyone has such concerns? And, despite all life’s pressures and conflicting agendas, what if it all matters?

Surely, it’s a question of how we go about things? How we’re navigating conversations with people who don’t see things as we do. Because, looking at communication as a landscape (Notes Three), any sharing of concerns or changing of minds is going to be a journey. Is this to be a route march though, or more a companionable walk where we’re discussing the view and our thoughts about how things are playing out?

As, depending on the positions people hold in that landscape and the roles they’re having to play, their views of life there will likely be quite different. While we might hope others will see where we’re coming from and feel inspired to see the world a little more through our eyes, conceivably we’re all feeling exactly the same way?

Could we not somehow bring people around the same table without it being an aggressively exclusive place? Could we listen to each other’s concerns without one cancelling out the other? If everything’s essential in its own way, pitting one set of concerns against another must risk us not getting much further than simply resenting others for not truly hearing what we’re saying.

And then, in a world where everything arguably needs improving, it can easily feel like there’s too much to care about and few avenues for resolving them. Maybe, because paths aren’t yet there, we feel unable to care as much as we’d like or take on these additional areas of concern. It’s difficult to live in a world where everything’s imperfect and it all matters (Notes Four).

It does seem, though, that we do want to understand things and make them better. It’s just hard to care so much, and to know where to start or how to proceed. Hopefully we’ll find that space within society where conversations and coordination can happen.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Can others join you?
Note 1: Pick a side, any side
Note 2: Right to question and decide
Note 2: Can we reinvigorate how we’re living?
Note 2: Working through mind & society
Note 2: Making adjustments
Note 3: Who should we trust?
Note 3: The power of understanding
Note 4: Does anything exist in isolation?
Note 4: True words spoken in jest
Note 4: Dealing with imperfection

Related to this, The sense of having a worldview explored ideas around the bigger picture we each carry in mind.

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The sense of having a worldview

Our lives are clearly saturated by thought: all the ideas we have about ourselves, our lives, others, society, what things mean, and what we should be doing. It’s almost as if, from the moment we’re born, we’re surrounded by all these thoughts about life that make themselves known to us one way or another (Notes One). From that, we’re then building up our own ideas of what life’s about.

It’s interesting to think we carry a world in our heads – all these interpretations, conclusions, assumptions, judgements, views and feelings about it all. Without knowing it, we must “have” a pretty comprehensive set of ideas about everything. Some we might be acutely aware of, spending much of our time living in those thoughts; but some we might’ve barely considered, letting them lodge up there all unexamined.

Maybe it’s just a personal thing? As in, that the contents of our heads are simply our own business. But it must spill out into the world around us, into the choices we’re making economically and beliefs we’re acting on socially, for example. Our thoughts seem to necessarily inform our habits and decisions in life, thereby serving to build up our personal and collective realities.

So, it seems, perhaps, advisable to have a fairly solid overview of all that’s going on: a realistic, workable, flexible understanding of human society, its functions and history, our current activities, and any problems there may be (Notes Two). How else are we to rightly judge all the decisions falling in our laps? Do we just apply logic, out of context, disregarding that bigger picture into which everything undeniably fits?

How we see the world seems so very important. We might look at it from our personal, social, national perspectives – through the lens of our own sense of identity and belonging – or we could seek a more global view of all the systems we’re involved with. Because it certainly seems, in every area of life, that our realities are increasingly crossing traditional boundaries into a more all-inclusive space (Notes Three).

Can we then develop a “worldview” capable of encompassing all that’s going on while still accepting that our field of activity and influence is generally quite localised to those personal, social, national realities? Is such an overarching perspective possible, without becoming superficial and not giving everything the weight it really deserves?

What would it mean to have such a picture in mind – a framework against which we could compassionately and confidently evaluate all life throws at us? If we understood the context, agenda and motivation of those operating within the various areas of our lives – cultural, political, economic, social – and were able to judge what they were saying and who to truly trust?

It’s an idea, I suppose, of a broadly and evenly educated body of people, capable of judging wisely and responding well to all the freedoms of modern life. A sense of information and awareness within which we care deeply about every situation we’re playing a part in.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Common knowledge
Note 1: Able to see what matters?
Note 1: Culture as reflection
Note 2: All that’s going on around us
Note 2: Strange arrogance of thought
Note 2: Value in being informed
Note 2: Interdependency
Note 3: Concerns over how we’re living
Note 3: Can we manage all-inclusive honesty?
Note 3: Convergence and divergence

Picking up on that closing thought around freedom and responsibility was one thread of Questions around choice.

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