Category: Culture

Having never formally studied philosophy I’m not sure what you’re ‘supposed’ to say about it, but Plato clearly raised intriguing questions around life, how best to go about living it, and what it might all mean for society.

“The Republic” is undeniably a very different way of looking at the social structure: governing people out of philosophical wisdom rather than purely individual interests. But having talked before of how thought shapes our lives, informing social realities as much as our responses to them (see Notes One), it’s interesting to contemplate these at-times confronting notions of how we could live.

In terms of education, Plato viewed it as having great importance for the ideas, attitudes and qualities making their way into society through the development of individuals toward becoming responsible citizens. He argued that, early impressions leaving a permanent mark, society should be very careful of what’s imparted to young people through education and culture if flaws were to be corrected rather than enhanced.

“It is in education that disorder can most easily creep in unobserved… because it gradually makes itself at home and quietly undermines morals and manners; from them it issues with greater force and invades business dealings generally, and then… spreads into the laws and constitution with complete lack of restraint, until it has upset the whole of private and public life.”

Talking at the level of ideals, it’s a discussion that plunges into many weighty realities around the role of parents, leaders and educators; making connections and suggesting courses of action that seem quite alien to the modern mind. But ideas of social order, personal development, citizenship, and how good education might help heal society are still important and timely concerns (Note Two).

And while Plato’s arguments around culture would likely now be characterised as censorship or propaganda (shaping stories to represent socially valuable qualities), this seems to arise out of concern for the strong influence cultural ideas can have on our feelings about life. His aim being the cultivation of ideals and attitudes (courage, respect, self-control) that might ultimately serve us and society well (Notes Three).

Which is interesting, this whole sense of trying to imagine a society that serves both individual and collective interests. The extent to which we act out of personal self-interest or concern for common social realities must be this age-old battle of any human community (Notes Four): “Is there anything worse for a state than to be split and fragmented, or anything better than cohesion and unity … And is not cohesion the result of the common feelings of pleasure and pain which you get when all members of a society are glad or sorry at the same successes and failures?”

Obviously, modern society’s taken different paths from many of these ‘suggestions’, but the question of what’s best and how well society is holding together, serving us all in the long run, or helping eradicate rather than create problems isn’t seeming so entirely different from two and half thousand years ago.

Notes and References:

“The Republic” by Plato, (Penguin Classics, London), 2007 (originally around 375 BC)

Note 1: What if it all means something?
Note 1: What is real?
Note 2: Ideas around education & responsibility
Note 3: Meaning in culture
Note 3: Dystopia as a powerful ideal
Note 4: Human nature and community life
Note 4: People, rules & social cohesion

Utopias obviously stand up there as these pinnacles of idealism: places where all our ideals find their place and become a reality. It’s a beautiful concept, but clearly problematic when you attempt them in practice. That said, much as it might be difficult to bring ideals into existence, does that mean we should give up entirely?

They might serve a valuable purpose within society, giving us something to work towards and a set of principles against which we might weigh our options and assess what’s best. Although they do tend to jostle, almost forcing us to decide between them at times: economy or environment; collective concerns or personal ones; and so on.

Any project based on simple one-sided conclusions about the nature of reality or the best way forward seems dangerous: prioritising any one thing usually happens at the cost of disregarding others. We may seek ‘solutions’, but reality is exceptionally complex and, given we’re dealing with human existence, it seems impossible to justify any such path (see Notes One).

Society’s also a project: it has a set of ideas and ideals at its foundation, placed there by the ‘great minds’ who discussed options and how they hoped or expected it all to work out. In a way, that’s simply a process of thought. People decided ‘these ideals are valuable, this is what we should be working towards, and this is how we’ll do it’. But whose ideas are that perfect?

If the execution of that process was flawed, or the ideals themselves not quite in the best balance, where does that leave us? Do we still understand the reasoning behind how we got here, and are we able to change course without pulling everything off the rails and starting over?

We may’ve been handed the project of Western society as if it were the definitive answer to our problems, but that’s a lofty claim and I’d be pretty impressed if anyone managed to get that right first time. In which case, being flexible in understanding society’s component parts and responsive to how it’s working in practice might be better than rigidly holding to old ways of thinking (Notes Two).

Which brings me to my point about culture: faced with this, people may well despair at ideals being so flawed in practice that they seem an impossible illusion that’s not worth fighting for. It’s a ‘reasonable’ conclusion in a way, and one that’s been explored in various cultural forms over the years (Notes Three), but is it wise to embrace images of the downfall of society and its flawed leaders?

Yes, society’s showing itself to be imperfect and we’ve a lot to work through; but a simple rejection of all that went before hardly seems the best way forward. Much as that emotional reaction and picture of a failing society may both be valid, are we right to be fatalistic about that scenario? Might we do better to remain engaged with the ideas, people and practicalities we now stand within?

Notes and References:

“Brave New World” by Aldous Huxley, (Vintage Classics), 2007 (originally 1932)

“W ou le souvenir d’enfance” by Georges Perec, (Denöel, Paris), 1975

Note 1: Complexity of life
Note 1: Convergence and divergence
Note 2: The conversation of society
Note 2: Education with the future in mind
Note 2: Dealing with imperfection
Note 3: “New Renaissance”
Note 3: “Brave New World Revisited”

This clearly spills out into many other areas, some of which have already been touched upon within the theme of Change.

The human mind seems capable of going in one of two general directions: focussing on the details or allowing quite an expansive openness. That’s clearly a generalisation, but as a basic model of how we approach life it’s an interesting perspective to consider and one explored by E.F. Schumacher in “Small is Beautiful”.

Within the context of education, Schumacher suggested we need some concept of “a hierarchical order” if we hope to make sense of the world and “recognise a meaningful task for [our] life on earth”; especially if you conceive of that task as attaining “a higher degree of realisation of [our] potentialities, a higher level of being … than that which comes to [us] ‘naturally’”.

Essentially, saying that metaphysical models which place us within a larger reality enable us to find a purposeful sense of our position in life; something stripped out of many modern ways of thinking. What we believe about life and how that affects the lives we lead are fascinating – if contentious – topics (see Notes One).

Stepping slightly aside from that, Schumacher then explores the idea that “the nature of our thinking is such that we cannot help thinking in opposites”: “all through our lives we are faced with the task of reconciling opposites which, in logical thought, cannot be reconciled”, requiring us to transcend “the level of being on which we normally find ourselves.”

Simplifying somewhat, convergent problems are then those that are both useful and satisfying in the sense that once resolved “the solution can be written down and passed on to others, who can apply it without needing to reproduce the mental effort necessary to find it.” It’s the premise of Western civilisation, the heart of maths and sciences, and the thinking behind countless hacks, recipes and pre-packaged solutions.

On the other hand, “Life is being kept going by divergent problems which have to be ‘lived’ and are solved only in death”. Here we find realities such as family, relationships, economics, politics, or education; areas of life where, if convergent thinking’s applied, “there would be no more human relations but only mechanical reactions”.

It’s an intriguing proposition to consider: that while the convergent approach serves us well at times, adopting it too broadly might impoverish civilisation by distancing us from complexities of life, morality and emotion. But the reassuring convergence of reading or puzzles can apparently soothe the mind strained and wearied by life’s ongoing, unresolved challenges. Balance appears to be the key.

Life then emerges as this journey of divergent problems which “as it were, force man to strain himself to a level above himself” to find a place where opposites can be overcome or reconciled. Problems without easy answers though, as neat solutions “invariably neglect one of the two opposites” therefore not quite meeting up with reality.

As a picture of life, thought and approaching the challenges of both (Notes Two), this may be fairly reasonable: how we think about different ‘problems’ could well affect our likelihood of resolving them.

Notes and References:

“The Greatest Resource – Education” Chapter Six from “Small is Beautiful. A Study of Economics as if People Mattered” by Dr E. F. Schumacher (Abacus edition, Sphere Books, London) 1974.

Note 1: Writings on Education
Note 1: Power in what we believe
Note 2: David Bohm, thoughts on life
Note 2: Communicating divergent experiences
Note 2: Mindfulness, antidote to life or way of being
Note 2: How do we find a collective vision?
Note 2: Complexity of life

For a recent embodiment of this, Steve Cutts’ animation “Man” explored humanity’s place in nature and the problems we cause, leaving us with that question of how all-encompassing solutions might ever be reached.

We live in times where many are calling for change, and maybe that’s always the case: this forward motion of civilisation as we seek forms that suit us better as individuals, collectively, and in our relationship to wider human and natural environments. This sense of the ideas, values and principles guiding society and personal existence is fascinating to consider, as surely so much in life comes from how we think about things?

In that context, “Inward Revolution” by Krishnamurti offers itself as a potentially valuable way of re-thinking how we stand within society. It’s a collection of talks around the nature of thought and how it relates to identity, conflict and reality itself; asking us to consider how we’re living and whether our patterns of thought might actually be creating quite considerable problems.

Ideas around how thought creates division between the observer and observed, representing reality in a way slightly removed from direct perception, and often tying us to past experiences are fundamental concerns reminiscent of other writers drawing on Eastern traditions (see Notes One). Questions of the mind and its relationship to the self seem just as relevant and problematic as ever.

And, similar to Eckhart Tolle, Krishnamurti can clearly come across as circular and somewhat evasive in his presentation. But, in both cases, it may well be that their conversational way of engaging with contemporary thinking serves a valuable purpose in challenging existing thought patterns, so we might come to see differently.

The central thread here is this sense of our thinking and identity being conditioned by society: how we’ve developed and sustain these systems, so “to change the structure of that culture you have to change yourself.” Which inevitably raises the question of whether the conditioned mind can ever become free of the environment, the conditioning structures, we’ve created and accepted.

Coming to a clear understanding of the human condition, the influences of society, and the nature of thought itself certainly seems worthwhile in terms of overcoming problems that might stem from those realities (Notes Two). If we’re the result of environment, and if personally identifying with our thinking causes fragmentation and conflict, then it’s logical to conclude that inward change might be the key.

Finding a state of mind that sees beyond divisions and conditioning – seeing reality without prejudice or fixed ideas – presumably would reflect a mind “capable of a different kind of knowing”, a space of greater peace and harmony with the true nature of reality. The idea of stepping into more direct relationship with life, through perception rather than mental representation, is an intriguing idea of freedom.

So, while I don’t entirely share Krishnamurti’s views, it’s a book I find useful in terms of strengthening the mind: he saw life a certain way and set about articulating that for others, becoming this sparring dialogue that might help heighten our “sensitivity” to the world of thought. What we accept is down to us, but our personal inner journey surely contributes to the world we share.

Notes and References:

“Inward Revolution, Bringing About Radical Change in the World” by J. Krishnamurti, (Shambhala, Boston), 2005 (originally 1971)

Note 1: The ideas of Eckhart Tolle
Note 1: Mindfulness, antidote to life or way of being
Note 1: The business of spiritual ideas
Note 2: David Bohm, thoughts on life
Note 2: The philosopher stance

Emerson’s ideas around what it might mean to be human are easily as beautiful as they are challenging: we are what life has made us, but what we make of that is down to us.

Our experiences, insights and understanding are unique to each person: “The eye was placed where one ray should fall, that it might testify of that particular ray.” We’ve all lived our own lives, meeting those who happened to cross our paths, drawing conclusions from all we’ve done and the lessons we’ve learnt about life, society and human nature.

Out of that, we have our understanding. We’ve reached a certain level of comprehension about how the world works, how we got here, and how best to act within that picture. Life gave us these ideas, and “Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind.” Surely we can only know what we have encountered, what we’ve understood and seen to be important (see Note One).

Where do we go from there? Should we simply go along with others, conforming in order to belong, or do as Emerson concluded: “What I must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think.” Everyone thinking, speaking and acting confidently from experience yet inclusively of others is a powerful idea, although not without challenges (Notes Two).

In terms of human society we may wish for an easy life with little conflict, but where does it lead? Unless there truly are no problems to resolve – no differences or disparities to be acknowledged and respectfully incorporated – then we must need to have difficult conversations. Going along with things out of a desire for ease, enjoyment or company may also mean being slightly less than true.

Rather than avoid things, we could say “I will stand here for humanity, and though I would make it kind, I would make it true.” We could draw on our experience, explore that of others, and attempt to find real understanding there. We could also accept that people change and make mistakes, that who they once were may not be who they now are, that life changes us and we might do well to take that into account (Notes Three).

The idea that “Your own gift you can present every moment with the cumulative force of a whole life’s cultivation” seems a far more beautiful approach to life: that we all carry the fruit of our existence, with much to offer through our insight and presence. To be true to ourselves – accountable to our ideals, beliefs or principles, but acting free from the opinion of others – is an exciting idea of what being human could mean.

Finding the centre of our being, the truth of our experiences, and the courage to bring something new to life out of the path we’ve taken is, to me, such a powerful view of life. Because, at the end of the day, we have ourselves: our minds, our wealth of insights, and our agency for change.

Notes and References:

“Essays” by Ralph Waldo Emerson (Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, Bungay, Suffolk) originally published in 1841.

Note 1: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 2: Communicating divergent experiences
Note 2: Listening, tolerance & communication
Note 3: Empathy in a world that happily destroys
Note 3: Intrinsic worth over society identity

Books, films and other cultural forms often turn to the past as a source of inspiration. It might have always been the case: that cultures draw on what precedes and surrounds them, retelling stories with their own particular slant on what things mean.

I suppose any dominant, overriding culture is in the position to rework how we see the past or other ways of living within our times. It’s this voice that can really shape our perceptions, ideas and conclusions about reality. The argument being that controlling the narrative serves the needs of society: casting events in a light that justifies things and reinforces the beliefs, attitudes and customs fitting with its aims.

Of course, in telling a story, we likely do so in our own words and using our perspective. We might make ancient peoples speak, think, look, act, and relate as we do – imagining people were always the same, that the process of living hadn’t changed us that much. But of course it has, even if we might struggle to relate to how things once were and what brought us to where we stand today (see Notes One).

Does this matter? Does it matter how our understanding is defined by those assuming the responsibility of informing us about the world? It’s a question as relevant to modern culture as to education, technology or the media. We have to get our ideas from somewhere, yet ‘facts’ often come with a coating of how we’re meant to receive them (flippantly, obediently, loaded with fear or superiority).

And everything can be seen to mean something: the ideas we hold reflect our sense of the past, of choices made and outcomes achieved; they inform our views on the world we live in, our attitudes towards systems, people and things; all becoming part and parcel of how we see ourselves and how we act as a result.

History, however, is a complex discipline seeking to uncover how disparate influences led to incremental or momentous changes; to understand a little more the paths human civilisations have taken over time. That kind of truth may not be straightforward or lead to simple conclusions, but it’s useful in seeing where we’ve come from.

By comparison, it’s relatively easy to spin compelling narratives with strong characters, stunning effects, and convenient outcomes. Such tales may also be far more memorable, visually and conceptually, than the delicate study of uncertainty described above. Yet we may want this clear arc to the past, neat themes and an obvious sense of right and wrong that fits with our views. Maybe that’s all very socially desirable.

As with anything, there’s no simple answer. The stories we tell ourselves may serve us well in navigating our times, but they might not give us an entirely accurate view of them. How we got here – all the complex relationships, transactions, ideas and compromises that created Western society and still ripple through it – might not be so entertaining, but could it be more valuable to see?

Notes and References:

Note 1: History as a process of changes
Note 1: Culture and the passing of time
Note 1: “Ecological Intelligence”
Note 1: Writings on Education

Shifting more to the economic drivers of the stories we’re told, there’s Culture selling us meaning.

Thoughts around the qualities of women, their value, and roles they hold in society are interesting. I struggled for a word there, as it’s hard to encapsulate all women are then reconcile that with prevailing attitudes towards them. Also hard to see what seemed to be progress in this regard reveal itself as illusion, with very different views apparently hiding beneath the surface. But that seems the modern predicament.

Feminism, though, is also quite conflicted, as presumably there are as many different ways of being a woman as there are or ever have been women. Every culture, time and place has its experiences of what it is to be a woman and how those functions, traits and strengths offered by women have been welcomed, treasured or scorned by the societies they’ve sustained over the years.

Then there’s the question of how any given individual feels about being a woman or the women in their lives; which truly can never be anything close to straightforward. The intricacies of identity, relationship and social projection are so incredibly complex: images we’re presented, ways we’re spoken of, qualities getting praised while others are sidelined, and issues sitting okay for some but unbearable for others.

I can see why these things have rightly risen back onto the public agenda, and also why the conversation can be almost impossible to navigate. It seems what we once might’ve hoped was resolved has now revealed itself to be an ongoing battle we all have a place within.

And in that, “Women who run with the wolves” still stands out as an incredibly valuable book for unravelling the boundaries of the female psyche and seeing how it finds its place in the world. I mean, what is it to be a woman? In what way is the female soul – that way of looking at life – different from that of a man? What qualities, principles, concerns have a place there?

We have so many stereotypes in life: ideas as to what’s masculine, what’s feminine, and how things play out between them. How people might relate to that – identify with some parts but reject others – surely gives rise to a beautiful range of experience and insight into the nature of the soul, the mind, the body. No wonder it’s a complex and contentious conversation, given we only truly speak for ourselves (see Notes One).

But then the psyche isn’t easy to understand. Clarissa Pinkola Estés talks of “What must I give more death to today, in order to generate more life? What do I know should die, but am hesitant to allow to do so?” This push/pull of creation and destruction, tending life or ending it, seems to echo the dynamics at play in the soul as much as in society itself.

Hopefully ideas around gender, how we relate to life, and ways society might be served through this can somehow break free from all that binds them and become more akin to the incredibly powerful, exciting conversations this book contains.

Notes and References:

“Women who run with the wolves” by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, (Rider Books, UK), 1992

Note 1: People wanting change
Note 1: Anger as a voice
Note 1: Listening, tolerance & communication
Note 1: Where’s the right place to talk?

Cultural forms are interesting to consider, in the sense that surely what we engage with will inform our views on self, on life, and on the meaning held within society. Writing about it this last year (see Notes One), I’ve come to see culture as the ideas we tend that then shape our actions, attitudes, assumptions and conclusions about what matters and why (Notes Two).

That’s clearly an important function as the thoughts we hold will undoubtedly guide our behaviour, rippling out into the various worlds we inhabit throughout our lives (Note Three). How all that’s worked in different times and places – ways communities have sought to influence the ideas at their heart – having given us the wealth of characters, outlooks and beliefs we in modern society are able to draw upon so freely.

In the past, it seems there were often treasured stories and practices, alongside social rituals for sharing their meanings with a regularity that reminded each person of their place and the passing of time. These cycles providing a certain stability in reiterating the values needed within society, welcoming new members into its ways, and uniting its people with common sentiment or intention.

While it might be fascinating to dip into such histories – even look to them for inspiration within our own culture – and also tempting to dismiss their ways of thinking as limited or constrictive compared with our times, I do wonder if they had something we might have lost.

Glancing back, culture seems to have been this very active sense of recollection, participation and ownership: people would memorise entire bodies of work and perform them as a valued service; others would gather together to experience these moments and draw sustenance from what they offered; communities could be defined by their practices and ideas.

Maybe that’s not so entirely different from modern culture, in some ways: instead of memorising and performing, we have technology; cultural moments are flagged up on social media, dissected, then filed away somewhere; all serving as reference points for crafting an identity and signalling our sense of belonging. These days we just have far more on offer, much faster turnover, and a freer flow of ideas.

That said; it is different. Rather than uniting it tends to divide. Maybe because, itself the product of a competitive marketplace, it seeks a target audience? Pricing and exclusivity must inevitably alter the universality of what’s represented and how accessible it’s made to be (Note Four). And ways we now ‘consume’ are more passive and isolating; social participation mainly happening online along lines of polarised opinion (Note Five).

While we might complain and compare, pointing out what was lost then what’s been gained, I find myself wondering if it even helps. Times change, but what does seem important is to understand: to see what culture was and the functions it performed; to grasp the nature of the shifts within our times; and then ensure that nothing essential to our personal or social lives is irretrievably lost.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Culture, art & human activity
Note 1: Revisiting the question of culture
Note 1: Culture and the passing of time
Note 1: Meaning in culture
Note 2: How many aren’t well represented?
Note 2: Missing something with modern culture?
Note 2: The worth of each life
Note 3: What is real?
Note 4: Culture selling us meaning
Note 5: The potential of technology

I once stumbled upon a book that is simply beautiful. In its intention, its words, its imagery. Maybe the more so because it’s a beauty so often downplayed within modern society: the value of age.

References to age now focus more on what’s been lost – youth, time, energy, independence, relevance – than what’s gained through the passage of a lifetime (see Notes One). This idea of people becoming social or familial burdens, entering a stage of life to be pitied and feared, bothers me. There seems to be a very narrowly approved of window of human existence; but, beyond that, what we’re talking about is people (Notes Two).

Presumably we could decide instead to listen to insights that come with time and from all ages; to recognise beauty in aging, as the deeper truth of who someone has become begins to shine through the limits of our physical form; to appreciate a person’s ongoing contributions. To have a society not valuing the reality of its constituents, not respecting or honouring the course of life, seems unnatural in a way.

And in the face of that, there’s “Wisdom”. Where photographer and film maker Andrew Zuckerman – inspired by the words of Desmond Tutu, that “One of the greatest gifts we can give to another generation is our experience, our wisdom” – has drawn together the reflections of “fifty of the world’s most prominent writers, artists, designers, actors, politicians, musicians, and religious and business leaders – all over sixty-five years old.”

It’s a book that takes the time and space to offer up ideas, life lessons, pearls of insight; to showcase the grace and strength of character revealed through portraits of a wide variety of fascinating and often remarkable individuals. In so doing, it seems to be making the statement that this content matters and should be treasured.

Because, to continue with the thoughts of Archbishop Tutu, “there used to be those who are called elders… no longer fit physically … they were looked up to because they were seen as the repositories of experience” and “so deeply passionately in love with life … with succeeding generations, that they want them to prosper, and so they say, we have learned over the many, many years that in fact generosity, compassion, gentleness, and caring are so much more powerful than their counterparts.”

In contrast with what’s holding sway for the moment in modern society and culture, all this comes across as pretty refreshing: rather than disparaging tones, there is reverence in the words and images, in the way the subject matter is treated (Notes Three). The idea that society might hold its members in greater respect – as has been the case in different times and places – seems so worthwhile.

Of course, these are people who have lived slightly unusual lives: leading their fields, changing the world, shaping the ideas and objects that have made up our collective existence. But surely the message here is universal; as that is the level on which many of them are speaking.

Notes and References:

“Wisdom” by Andrew Zuckerman, (PQ Blackwell NZ, Abrams NY), 2008

Note 1: Age, image & self worth
Note 1: Attitudes to elder members of society
Note 1: What do we see in beauty?
Note 1: Age, politics and human reasoning
Note 2: Complicity and cultural attitudes
Note 2: Intrinsic worth over social identity
Note 2: The worth of each life
Note 3: People, rules & social cohesion
Note 3: Tone in public dialogue
Note 3: Meaning in culture

The idea of what culture is and how it serves human communities seems both interesting and important, given how much of our lives can be seen to be under its influences and how greatly it must then shape society itself.

Even defining culture or summarising its activities and power is inevitably challenging: there’s popular culture; high culture; local traditions; national, international and global practices; evolving and interweaving subcultures; then the overlay of opinion or study that accompanies it all. Essentially it’s this ever-flowing conversation between different peoples, times and places, as we seek to understand our selves and our realities.

It seems culture generally acts to define or reflect what’s happening, what’s valuable, and what we’re trying to create with our lives. I’ve talked before of its roots in notions of tending and cultivation, of ways it represents life on both individual and collective levels, and of how powerful it can be in sustaining and enriching our lives (see Notes One). And, writing about it, my views have changed and will likely continue to do so.

I say that because cultural ideas clearly have the power to change our minds, our thoughts on life, and how we choose to act. If we look broadly at culture as ‘the stories we tell’, then this can be seen as how we make sense of the past, the present, the future: representing our current point in time, the issues concerning society, and those attitudes deemed helpful for us as we move into what comes next.

But then, it’s pretty undeniable that modern cultural life is heavily influenced by many seeking to direct us for economic ends or hoping to guide us toward their understanding of social cohesion (Notes Two). The ways culture becomes a voice for such messages may be meant well, but I would’ve thought it undermines our ability to trust in what we hear and may not even have the intended effects (see Guardian article below).

Who’s to say how ideas influence us? How what we see and hear filters into beliefs we may or may not be aware of, subtly shifting our actions and attitudes in directions that may or may not be wise? Clearly psychology is powerful, otherwise industry wouldn’t invest so much in attempting to make use of its insights; but do we really know what we’re playing with?

Because, on a personal level, we’re presumably looking to belong, to make sense of existence and our place within it, to understand our value and how we’re seen by the community we form a part of (Notes Three). Industries such as beauty, entertainment, music, or fashion are essentially built around timeless human activities, using their compelling powers for modern ends (Notes Four).

What does all this mean for individuals, for our relationships with others and the world, and for the social realities we’re building together? What’s the impact of fostering collective feelings of despair, anger, resignation, or hope? Where will it all lead, and what are we creating here?

Notes and References:

Guardian article, drawing interesting conclusions on the power of ideas: Yale psychologist John Bargh: ‘Politicians want us to be fearful’

Note 1: Culture, art & human activity
Note 1: Revisiting the question of culture
Note 2: Why listen to media that exists to profit?
Note 2: Culture selling us meaning
Note 3: Relating to cultural benchmarks
Note 3: How many aren’t well represented?
Note 4: What do we see in beauty?
Note 4: Romance, love & the movies
Note 4: Music and its power to inspire
Note 4: Fashion, self & environment