How well does art relate to life?

Previously, my thoughts on art have drifted towards concepts of meaning, cultural trends, and personal identity (see Notes One); which contains a certain truth, in that art’s hard to grasp yet also a central part of human existence. Here though I want to look more specifically at how this cultural conversation might help in how we live.

In many ways, art seems a luxury. Familiarity, appreciation and understanding of it usually stem from a certain background; and all that can appear a non-essential part of life. Discussions often become slightly inaccessible or exclusive; relying on an understanding of concepts, individuals, and historical trends. That sense of high culture, visiting galleries, or embracing artists as a statement of identity or rebellion.

The art world’s not the easiest to find your feet in, and the weight of its history and established conversations can deter many from seeking entry. But that’s more what art carries with it: accumulations of social history. As with so much in life, it’s a struggle to get past the traditions of any field of activity: certain people tend to occupy these pockets of ideas and experiences, and that largely defines the discussions that happen.

But I really feel such obstacles shouldn’t deter us from seeking an active participation in human culture, from going toward what we don’t yet know and having new conversations. Art itself is surely just a way of seeing, of creating meaning, or of balancing truth and beauty within our understanding of life. That might be a challenge to engage with, but it’s also part and parcel of human existence.

For me, art’s essentially about representing reality and thereby creating a new layer of meaning; which of course then changes that reality both through its visual presence and in the conversations it can ignite. Clearly there’s a backstory of conventions and techniques, those deeper levels of engagement that can be an obstacle but also lead to slightly different discussions; yet it’s also simply an act of perception and questioning.

Within modern society though, our visual spaces are populated by advertising, media, technology, innovation, and so on; an increased pace and volume of imagery as “art” becomes easier to produce and consume. All of which creates an additional overlay of distraction and a further need for discernment.

If we look at art as this layer of meaning, of human beings seeking to conceptualise existence and engage one another in conversation over it, then both the weight of the past and the overwhelm of the present seem to threaten that. The power of art in getting us to see differently must depend on us all looking at the same things, and on a shared sense of quality and intention.

So much works against that kind of meaningful collective conversation, whether we’re talking about art, politics or almost anything else. Modern life seems scattered, pulled back, and struggling to make connections of the intensity art genuinely seems capable of offering; which is hopefully something we can move beyond.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The value of art in society
Note 1: Art, collaboration & commodification
Note 1: How many aren’t well represented?
Note 1: Mirrors we offer one another

Also What makes a good life which, in a way, looked at life as art and at the beauty of balance.

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Intrinsic worth over social identity

The idea of human value and self-worth is both fascinating and important: how we view our selves, our limitations, and the changing nature of our psychological and physical lives; and equally, how we see and relate to others.  In all of that, there’s the social side we weave together but also the inner journey we all take through life.

The tendency to judge one another based on physical, economic or social standards may be normal (see Notes One), but it’s also fairly meaningless and divisive. Given how so much is determined by birth and environment, what a person makes of ‘their lot in life’ must say infinitely more about who they truly are. And for society to place so much value on things that can be bought seems strange: these masks of perfection, power or privilege that impart identity and self-esteem.

But all that’s a part of life: how we fit in, what others see in us, the opportunities we have, and our relationships with those around us. That picture essentially gives us a sense of who we are and what we mean within society. And there are undoubtedly complex interconnections between self, society, and the storylines offered us by culture (Notes Two).

It just seems modern society pushes us towards human estimations based on external trappings that are largely beyond our control. Is it right to view people that way, based on where they happen to exist in the socio-economic pockets of a divided society? Are we right to socially and financially reward those who ‘win the hereditary lottery’? Is that what it is to be human?

Life seems to be this path of being born into a given situation; shaped by your physical, emotional and social environment; then by the wider influences of community, education, and prevailing sociocultural trends. The personal journey being that question of who we truly feel ourselves to be, how well our conditioning suits or serves us, what we wish to become, and how we feel about the society we find ourselves within.

For me, life is then this sense of working our way beyond both the gifts and limitations of our early existence. Making the effort to understand and accept who we are and how we came to be that way; to overcome that in whatever ways we see fit; and hopefully to become the best self we’re capable of. And alongside that, the idea of seeking to improve the society we’ve come to know: contributing in countless large and small ways to iron out problems and bring greater humanity to bear, whatever our station in life.

A culture based on a thorough knowledge and mastery of self and a conscious understanding of and contribution to society seems a beautiful picture of responsible humanity; and, in that light, a person’s worth becomes more a sense of how they’re managing to live their own unique life. That path is different for each and every one of us, but surely it’s always a worthwhile striving.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Value of each human being
Note 1: Attitudes to elder members of society
Note 1: What do we see in beauty?
Note 2: Relating to cultural benchmarks
Note 2: How many aren’t well represented?
Note 2: Mirrors we offer one another

Also What makes a good life, where I spoke briefly of the idea that life is what we make of it.

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“New Renaissance”

The book “New Renaissance” by Maurice Ash – although slightly challenging to read – is interesting both in terms of its place within the national conversation of the 80s, as the UK struggled with ideas around growth, politics and social change, and in its relevance to our current predicaments.

Opening with a philosophical discussion over language and the certainty of knowledge as hallmarks of Western civilisation, Ash argues that while “knowledge demands this detachment, because certainty cannot be had without it” it was a path that separated us from nature and sent us down fragmented paths of specialisation. Leading to the question of whether the limitations of that Age of Knowledge might give way to one of Meaning: a greater sense of wholeness, bringing us into more meaningful relationships with one another and the world.

The guiding idea thus becomes how to move beyond the dualism of subject/object, human/nature to a broader way of seeing how things are connected and approaching that reality. It’s a theme that’s cropped up elsewhere in considering paths we’ve taken (see Notes One) and alternative models of thinking (Notes Two); and whether there’s a readiness to adopt such ideas was a question in the 80s that remains largely unanswered now.

Focussing on political ideals and their practical realities, there’s a sense of modern politics having grown out of that way of knowing: of misleading certainty leading to “social engineering which treats people as objects” and local governments serving as “administratively convenient technical agencies” measured by money, rather than as meaningful centres of power within our communities.

In terms of solutions, Ash rejected utopia as unrealistic (“the very certainty it presumes, and the detachment of the idealist from the actual world”); questioned socialism as being essentially a function of capitalism; and pointed towards the system itself being in need of fundamental reform. There’s a sense of society having lost its way and also a warning that, with the death of idealism, there’s a risk of alternatives stepping in to fill the void of meaningless knowledge (e.g. nihilism, extremism).

The revival of interest in progressive education, community and environmental concerns are evidently where Ash focussed his efforts as well as being thoroughly modern preoccupations. How people, having “experienced the plastic society, and the senselessness of what is expected of them in it”, looked for involvement in meaningful processes and transactions, for a “politics of community, of the patterns that hold people together”.

It’s a far-reaching collection of essays and a valuable attempt at pulling threads of philosophy and social reality into a purposeful body of thought. The idea of a necessary ‘social metamorphosis’ is intriguing; as is the affirmation of ‘Green politics’ as offering a sort of environmental metaphor to place humanity back within the world we stepped away from with our rational thinking. Surely we exist within our environment where all we do impacts both nature and humanity; so looking again at the forms and functions behind our ideas and actions still seems a wise if daunting prospect.

Notes and References:

“New Renaissance. Essays in Search of Wholeness” by Maurice Ash, (Green Books, Bideford, Devon), 1987.

Note 1: “Small is Beautiful”
Note 1: “Towards a New World View”
Note 1: “Education’s End”
Note 2: Mindfulness, antidote to life or way of being
Note 2: Literature where West meets East
Note 2: The ideas of Eckhart Tolle

Also Writings on Education, which spoke of the importance of ideas in understanding and shaping our place in the world.

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Real estate, rental and human nature

Building on the initial thoughts explored in Living together, this post turns to some modern struggles in the realm of accommodation; specifically, how money and ownership translates into intention and responsibility.

The idea of home ownership and what that means in a practical economic and social sense is quite intriguing: how our expectations have changed over time; ways cultural and financial trends have influenced the market; and how it essentially became this personal portfolio of opportunity. The subtle shifts that have shaped that landscape and the ripple effects into other areas of society must be fascinating to understand.

But to look for now at ways all of that affects individual lives, shared communities, and local environments is the entry-point that interests me most. How does a contract of ownership or rental influence how we view our ‘homes’? If we manage a property as an ‘investment’, how does that inform our concerns around the lived realities of these spaces? How do our values intersect with the economics of our living arrangements?

Broadly speaking, owning a property and therefore viewing it as an asset must equate to a person having a vested interest in maintaining standards, cultivating relationships to some degree, and staying more actively engaged in what’s going on in the surrounding area. The tangible financial gains or losses to the ‘value’ of a home must be more keenly felt and lead to certain patterns of behaviour, concern and engagement.

Inversely, quite different motivations must arise for those letting out an investment or renting one. Managing a rental property must bring with it thoughts around long-wearing interiors, cost to benefit calculations on improvements, and a fairly pragmatic approach to relationships and tenants. And renting itself can be seen as a slightly powerless situation that effectively discourages much investment in whatever terms you quantify it (e.g. care, consideration, community, environment) through the lack of compelling financial incentive.

Stories and anecdotes frequently highlight how investment properties are reshaping communities: second home ownership chipping away at social networks and local businesses; tenancies negatively impacting neighbourhoods through either behaviour or neglect. There must be this whole web of personal and social consequences that are defined by the machinations of the housing market and largely dictated by economic forces.

So it seems valid to look beyond purely political or economic frameworks for assessing housing and consider the human realities being created. It’s something there doesn’t seem a clear answer to, but also something fairly important: local communities and relationships are the essence of our daily lives, with the values displayed through our actions making up our human, social and natural environments (see Notes One).

Given how the motivation to invest in our homes and communities tends to stem from with whether or not it’s in our financial interests to do so, there’s evidently some relationship between money and that sense of engagement or responsibility (Notes Two). So maybe it’s a question of creating a scenario where our financial motivations align better with our more human concerns?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 1: Nature tells a story, about society
Note 2: The motivation of money
Note 2: Values and the economic

Also Relating to cultural benchmarks, which spoke of home ownership and what that might mean on a more personal note.

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The motivation of money

It’s pretty undeniable that money is a force which strongly influences modern society, shaping much of what is happening as well as the life being created for us all. Maybe that’s another case of me stating the obvious; but it’s an interesting situation.

Looking at the nature of money itself, it seems to seek or demand a certain consistency which, in turn, must limit our freedom to act. Money and business – with their notions of property, scalability, projections, and growth – seem to be systems that inherently try to control markets and resources, often manufacturing those needs through advertising or culture. And while with any given decision the ‘costs’ of our choices can be calculated; prioritising such considerations over other values must lead us down different paths (see Notes One).

From the human perspective, money clearly motivates us in a very practical sense; representing freedom and status as much as security. So much of our social and cultural ‘worth’ is now largely defined by money, in that most of what we’re told to value or admire can be bought (Notes Two). We essentially exist within this economic model that shapes our ideas, activities and lives in many ways: we work to gain money in order to survive and have social value in the eyes of others, and preferably to become free of that very system.

That last point I find intriguing: how many people say that if they became independently wealthy they wouldn’t work, but would travel and enjoy life. Because to me that implies we’re not truly invested in the societies and lives we’re creating; it’s all just a means to an end. Which seems true, but what does it mean if we’re existing in that way? Is our collective existence meaningless beyond the pursuit of wealth?

Practically speaking, money is this ‘carrot and stick’ that draws us in with certain promises while also creating corresponding fears and uncertainties. Business acts to fulfil our ‘needs’ and provide opportunities to earn an income; and our very existence forms the essential market for the goods, services and so on. On both the human and systemic side we’re then seeking a degree of security within that: trying to build a stable economy, society, or personal existence.

For me, this raises so many questions and it’s something I’ll come back to over the course of this year. Because ultimately these systems seem to be struggling in many ways: in terms of environmental resources and impacts most tangibly, but also in the sense of what it all means and where it’s leading. What has money come to represent, and what does it truly mean in both a practical and a human sense? How is it shaping the lives we are creating and the meaning we assign to one another and the world around us?

The economy seems to be this complicated system sitting at the core of our lives, and it would be wonderful if that could become much more human and much more meaningful.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Values and the economic
Note 1: Is sustainable design an impossibility?
Note 2: Relating to cultural benchmarks
Note 2: How many things are cycles (we could break)

This also relates to Laws and lawlessness, in the sense of the systems we’re a part of and the deeper meaning of our participation in them.

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Laws and lawlessness

The idea of law and how it works itself out in practice intrigues me: we’re raised into society which in a certain sense is built upon and sustained by laws and lawful behaviour; yet it seems rare for all that to be directly explained and laid out for us. Our entire lives are regulated, but we might be unaware of how unless we inadvertently or more deliberately step over a line. And that seems quite important.

Some laws are communicated more explicitly, like those around driving or money; but there must be many we exist in ignorance of. Short of pursuing a career within the field of law it seems we’re limited to the awareness evident in those around us, infringements we stumble across, or what we absorb through entertainment and the media. Then there are things like local bylaws, social and environmental practices, and contractual obligations in work or home life. How conscious are we of all that, and how much does it matter?

The very notion of law is simply interesting: how it relates to human behaviour and the ways it shapes society. Do we need the threat of punishment in order to regulate our actions, or are there natural social ethics to draw upon? Are laws there to limit our darkness, to protect the disadvantaged, or more an elevation of those values we aspire to?

Reflecting on how laws changed in response to historical realities such as slavery, we can see how that mirrors the development of moral standards and commonly held beliefs. Law – and the politics surrounding it – became a battleground for improving society; the history of our laws and societies running parallel, as collective awareness grew.

With our situation now, it often appears the law is something to toy with and stretch. Maybe that’s partly because there’s a perceived lack of accountability in the anonymity and overwhelm of how we live: if our actions and their consequences are largely unseen, is there any reason to comply? Does the idea of law begin to seem meaningless in a society that often doesn’t notice or care? Ways that actions are increasingly invisible certainly seems one of the challenges we’re facing (see Notes One).

But in terms of this relationship between law, human behaviour, and social reality what does a noticeable disregard for laws and conventions mean? Does it matter if people begin acting out of a sense that “we may as well, others do, no one really cares, and what are they going to do about it”?

For me, it matters to the extent that living in light of the law reflects a deeper understanding of society: the idea of making the world safe, enjoyable and reliable for others. While it may serve us personally to cut some corners, these principles are essentially there to maintain society. And all our actions surely have a social aspect to them, in that they demonstrate for others our social values and how important we feel all of that to be.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Reality as a sense check
Note 1: Antisocial behaviour & the young
Note 1: The challenge of community
Note 1: Individual responsibility, collective standards
Note 1: Empathy in a world that happily destroys

Also, Media and responsibility which spoke in similar terms of systems we’re a part of and the vital social function they have.

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Individual responsibility, collective standards

Having written lately about moral standards and collective patterns of behaviour (see Notes One), the question of how actions add up and ways of working more constructively with that seems a natural next step. I mean, we can complain about lack of accountability online and the trends that’s giving rise to; but what can really be done about it?

As discussed in those posts, there are countless occasions where ideas, assumptions, and reactions are voiced online and seemingly merge together into this self-defining reality. Trains of thought get laid out for us and we take them in, share them, or argue against them. People communicate in certain ways and – with no system for redressing it – that creeps into our lives and becomes normal.

Maybe there’s little to be done about that. Systems for regulating online life bubble up every now and again or the businesses running certain sites are called upon to lift the bar in terms of what’s acceptable; but essentially it’s so fast moving and on such a vast scale that any human-based policy or systemic algorithm seems destined to fall short of what we feel is needed.

That might be met with resignation about ‘how things are’, or maybe indignation as we try to reason within that slightly abstract and lawless space. Broadly speaking, the emotions there being apathy or anger: apathy in overlooking problems or withdrawing from them; anger in a raw sense or as a more articulated response.

Which is what it is: we’re right to be upset at these collective spaces being filled with abuse, carelessness, anger, disrespect, and lies; and we’re right to feel slightly powerless in how best to address or engage with that. And all of that impacts us in a very real way, as we’re constantly being exposed to this highly emotive, unregulated content.

And sometimes I wonder whether – rather than waiting for the system to change – the answer lies in each of us: if we might be better off honing our personal sense of ethics and accountability, rather than waiting for an effective regulatory response to appear.

Headlines may pique our curiosity; tempt our desire to judge, to revel in our good fortune; or offer an affirmation of our views and identity. Other stories might gleefully depict another’s misfortune or share titbits about their lives. And there seems a certain satisfaction in fighting your corner and taking others down in that public sphere. Humans are clearly complex psychological creatures and our motivations online are fascinating, if often dark, reading.

But all these individual actions add up and might even be fuelling the fire: demonstrating both the market for that content and our incapacity to regulate ourselves. Modern times are presenting us with considerable challenges to our ways of being and relating (Notes Two); and we could wait for others to start policing our darker sides, or begin holding ourselves more accountable. Maybe there’s an attitude between apathy and anger capable of calmly, consistently, and compassionately articulating our own ideals.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Morality and modern thought
Note 1: Empathy in a world that happily destroys
Note 1: Privacy and our online existence
Note 2: Globalised society finding its feet
Note 2: Tech as an evolving second life

Also Trying to understand our times which spoke in a general sense about slowing down to understand our paths.

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“Manufacturing Consent”

Having addressed the notion of propaganda in Media within democratic society, here I will focus more on qualities of modern journalism as characterised by Edward Herman and Noam Chomsky in “Manufacturing Consent”. It’s a fascinating book that, despite having been written in the late Eighties, still seems remarkably relevant and insightful in terms of understanding society and the challenges we’re currently facing in the search for reliable information (see Note One).

Their analysis of the practical impacts of business, consumerism, and revenue demonstrates how such concerns became increasingly influential over time. These days there’s often a slightly resigned acceptance of the power money has over various aspects of our lives: commerce is this undeniable force, and we’re now so inundated with direct or covert attempts to influence our views that it can seem futile to resist. But surely it’s an important reality to remain aware of, as various parties seek to shape public opinion and behaviour through reporting and advertising.

Because the information we receive and how it’s presented to us must to a large extent dictate the collective conversations we’re able to have and the situations we’re most aware of. The ways advertising weakens the perceived importance of information and challenges our ability to engage intelligently with life seems to be a genuine problem. And while our confusion, apathy or despair in the face of complex realities may be useful to some, it seems troubling for society. As is the fact our very awareness is informed by those events or topics we’re offered, and the standards we’re effectively made to accept (Note Two). If political and economic entities were truly acting in our best interests, it might be reasonable to trust in what we read; but that’s a questionable assumption and the stakes seem increasingly high.

Another interesting aspect of the book is the consideration of language and tone in how stories are delivered: the ways subtle shifts in vocabulary or inferred significance serve to inform our attitudes, often below the threshold of our conscious knowledge. It’s not something I’d given much thought to directly, but it’s clearly true that the terms employed would guide our feelings of compassion, disregard or indignation towards the human situations happening across the globe. How we view others and the importance we’re encouraged to give to certain sufferings seems crucially important, especially when such sentiments essentially come to validate or justify specific courses of action.

And while all that could be taken in the direction of ‘conspiracy theories,’ my conclusions were more around the responsibility of fully understanding the systems we’re a part of (Note Three). For me, it’s not so much a question of rebelling against these things but of handling information with that knowledge in mind: it seems wise to have a healthy distrust of concealed agendas and an increased awareness around the content that we allow to influence us. It’s unquestionably a book that’s acutely relevant to our times when, above all, it’s important to be clear on these matters.

Notes and References:

“Manufacturing Consent. The Political Economy of the Mass Media” by Edward S Herman & Noam Chomsky, (Random House, London), 2008 (originally 1988).

Note 1: Trying to understand our times
Note 2: Privacy and our online existence
Note 3: Media and responsibility

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Age, politics and human reasoning

Taking a social situation as a starting point, recent assertions around age and economic or political value have been quite unsettling. That certain underlying assumptions aren’t being challenged seems concerning, as it implies these are seen as acceptable ways of thinking that will lead to reasonable conclusions.

For example, financial reasoning has been commonplace as many concluded some groups “cost” others dearly. As if calculations of life expectancy and anticipated earnings or opportunities are certainties we should bank on. Where does it lead if we think that way? At what age are we happy for our social relevance or democratic weight to diminish? Human life is inherently without guarantee so these hardly seem calculations to place at society’s core, yet they are apparently valid ways to be thinking.

This seems to come down to how we view reality and weigh up our choices; with figures offering us a sense of certainty and measurable impacts. I just feel it might be wise to re-evaluate the weight we give to that in what is ultimately a human society (see Notes One).

With politics, incorporating the views of all members of society seems a valuable idea. The wisdom of age, practical confidence of mid-life, and idealism of youth all combine to hopefully chart a sensible course. Every part of society has a voice to be heard, because society affects us all. Although all that does depend very much on the quality of information we receive; on education and our ability to evaluate all we’re told (Notes Two); and preferably on a sense of responsibility toward the whole rather than just the self.

Yet it’s still worrying to argue that outcomes would be different in a year or two “because a million or so people would no longer be here”. It may be ‘true’, but is it meaningful or humane to make such arguments?

To take a different manifestation of similar reasoning, a recent Guardian article on the social “cost” of individuals spoke of how foreseeable costs were from a young age. And of course it seems likely that both costs and needs would be greater for those born into situations containing obstacles they may well wish to overcome. Surely our social systems exist to support those genuinely needing assistance. And while the researchers pointed out the responsibility of applying the results compassionately, it still seems a risky train of thought.

Where do statistics lead? While such findings are famously ‘neutral’, we must undoubtedly be very careful in the conclusions we draw and the arguments we weave around them (Note Three). Reasoning based on calculations and projections often risks forgetting the human face of the data, as logic may dictate “certain people should be left out in the cold”.

At the end of the day, what is society about? Are we talking simply in terms of economic viability, or is there a sense of social cohesion and pulling together? Because it seems we still need to be careful that our thinking retains its humanity.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Values and the economic
Note 1: Economics and the task of education
Note 2: Education’s place within Society
Note 2: Media within democratic society
Note 3: Morality and modern thought

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Privacy and our online existence

It’s interesting to think how businesses essentially decided to put an end to the idea of privacy. That until fairly recently there was a concept, with its attendant conventions, that we now generally accept as unrealistic or antiquated.

Much that takes place online now comes with this ‘entry fee’ of monitoring, access to personal information and indelible marks in a public space. In a way, it’s a fascinating turn of events: how quickly we loosened the reins on our lives in the face of opportunities offered. It’s also fairly daunting, in the sense of how fast that escalated and matured into systems now being developed for advertising and the like.

All this has become an unavoidable aspect of modern life (see Note One), as things move so much faster in the world of technology and it seems unthinkable – or at least economically and socially inadvisable – to fall behind where others are willing to dive straight in and get ahead. But are we wise to simply accept the options presented and go with the flow? Is it ‘right’ to waive our rights to certain things in order not to miss the boat?

These days we’re expected to be online, and if you choose not to or attempt to define your own engagement with it then you’re often judged by others’ standards. Behaviour seems very much guided by tech companies and evolving social codes (Notes Two), with a slight overtone of coercion as we naturally don’t want to miss out or be seen as unduly cautious or old-fashioned in our ways of being.

But it’s a strange situation when you’re constantly shown personal pictures of almost complete strangers, or recommended products and services based on comments you made during ‘private’ conversations. It’s strange to think how much data is being analysed on behalf of hidden interest groups; people apparently planning to capitalise in some way off our lives. It’s also strange, as intelligent and social beings, to be presented with so much information, opinion and emotion that we must mentally filter out for it to become manageable. All of which feeds our personal curiosity, judgement, and disconnection.

Where are our boundaries now? Those boundaries of convention that once separated our private and public lives, the people we know from those we would never meet; the visible or knowable lines of connection and consequence (Note Three). Now, private comments or actions can take on a life of their own, shared beyond all sense of what is ‘normal’. How do we decide what to pass on or pass over, given it’s out there now so we ‘may as well’ look?

It’s true in a way that there’s little possibility for avoiding the loss of privacy: so much happens through technology, and anything that does can be argued as meriting observation. But, in the light of that, do we simply relinquish the notion of privacy and embrace the new standards offered? Or could inner boundaries and conventions still bring force to bear in these spaces?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Tech as an evolving second life
Note 2: “Response Ability” by Frank Fisher
Note 2: Empathy in a world that happily destroys
Note 3: Reality as a sense check

Also Morality and modern thought, which takes a broader look at the place of morality and ethics in our times.

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