Category: Society

Thinking about life, there are clearly going to be things we know and things we don’t. There’s the things life itself and those around us have taught us, then those things they might not have known themselves or known to pass on. And how else do we learn anything?

But then there also seems this sense that some things are just obvious and not being aware of them is unthinkable, laughable, a sign of stupidity or – more sympathetically – of ignorance. Ignorance being this state of “not knowing” where people lack awareness, knowledge or information. Generally it’s also a word thrown around as an insult within a reasonably intelligent and well-informed society.

Just because information’s widely available and we’re intelligent enough to understand it though, it doesn’t necessarily follow that we’re stupid for not having found it or realised its importance. Arguably, the more information that’s available the harder it is to see what matters from what doesn’t, and the more likely we are to overlook things in an attempt to manage the sheer volume of what’s now surrounding us (see Notes One).

Maybe it’s ‘natural’ to see our own knowledge, values and priorities as obvious? Not necessarily noticing where these ideas we live our life by came from: those subtle processes whereby we came to see things a given way and drew conclusions around what it all means about us, the worlds we exist within, and how best to act for mutual benefit.

Surely anything we know is something we were told or shown, and in a way that we understood its relevance and truth for our lives? Sometimes those lessons may have been intentional, other times they might have been incidental or actually the reverse of what people had hoped to teach us. We might have accepted the wisdom offered or rebelled against it, reaching similar or vastly different conclusions.

None of this is straightforward. In this day and age, who do we really trust to impart unshakable wisdom? It used to be religion or tradition that was looked to, then perhaps those educated in a certain way or entrusted with positions of power. This task of shaping our lives, our ideas – having the authority to impact lives in that deep and lasting way – has clearly changed hands over time.

In that light, are we ever right to mock or insult those who don’t share our ideas? If their life’s not led them to see things that way, might that be better explored respectfully rather than incredulously? It’s easy to see things as obvious and get taken aback by those who’ve experienced life differently, but our reactions to this parting of the ways can undoubtedly throw up serious obstacles to the gap ever being bridged (Notes Two).

It’s interesting because we live in times of increasingly converging experiences in some ways, but then there’s this heightened awareness of divergent perspectives nestled within it all. With so much going on, assuming there’s common ground may be an obstacle in itself.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Complexity of life
Note 1: The need for discernment
Note 1: Need to stand alone & think for ourselves
Note 1: What are we thinking?
Note 2: Anger as a voice
Note 2: We may as well laugh

Carrying over this notion of society as a project we all have a part in (see Common knowledge), I wonder at times how aware we are of the long, flowing conversation of human coexistence. We could view pretty much any civilisation or grouping since the beginning of time in terms of its variation on the basic themes, functions, propositions, responses, and outcomes it achieved or stumbled over.

We could look at ways societies were organised, how they interacted with environment or related to neighbours, and the stories they told to hold these communities together in patterns of behaviour supporting their way of life. We could look at how, over time, some more rigid hierarchical structures seem to deconstruct, handing more power and initiative over to individuals. How more responsibility ended up in our hands.

It’s interesting, because any society is essentially a way of structuring communal existence: delegating tasks, organising the flow of goods and information, laying down infrastructures, providing a sense of belonging. There’s many ways that could be arranged, many beliefs or ideals we might place at its foundations, many paths we might take to bring them to realisation (see Notes One).

And these days we seem acutely aware of the recent history and its accompanying storylines that led into our way of life. Compared with the past, all that’s happened in the last hundred years or so has often been shouted through a megaphone, thrown up on screens of various sizes, and coated in countless shades of interpretation. It’s all very much in the public consciousness and still within living memory.

Modern society is strange in that it’s so self-aware, so incredibly ‘well-informed’, yet also quite caught up in its own narrative. It’s walked its path alongside developments in communication, shaping its little human citizens in completely new, untested ways. And often – almost inevitably – we’re given those viewpoints that are deemed to serve society, reinforcing its priorities in all these subtle ways.

We’re inundated with information, opportunity, urgency, on every side: news we should know about, products we should choose between, opinions we should share. I guess that’s culture? The things we’re talking about, beliefs we have in common, realities making up our lives, and where our attention’s being drawn (Notes Two).

Yet maybe all that also risks distracting us from what’s going on at society’s core, those shifts and conversations happening that may completely change how we live together. Day by day, year by year, generation by generation, society must be drifting in new directions. Are we aware the part we play, the ways all our choices are shaping their respective markets and often shifting the balance?

Understanding the systems we live within, purposes they serve, and the thinking behind them – how all that arose over time, the result of many different conversations – must surely place us in a stronger position to make wise decisions now. Because, in every single area of our lives, our words and actions bear consequences for the realities we will share.

Notes and References:

Note 1: History as a process of changes
Note 1: Culture and the passing of time
Note 1: Patience with the pace of change
Note 2: Culture selling us meaning
Note 2: Media within democratic society
Note 2: “The Tipping Point”
Note 2: “Paradox of Choice”

What is real? also considered the importance of how we think about reality.

Looking at the things we do in life, there are clearly various reasons we could offer; many we may or may not be quite aware of. But as adults, we presumably need to be able to look at the world and decide what it is we are going to do with our lives: those things we want to be a part of, which seem sensible and worthwhile. How do we approach such decisions?

With modern living, it seems one response is that we can do whatever we want unless a compelling argument stops us. A sort of ‘who can stop me’ approach to our freedom, where the onus is on someone, somehow justifying the limitation of whatever’s taken our fancy. Which is obviously one way of going about things, although where does it lead? (see Note One).

Then there’s what we might consider the more social or economic responses of ‘this is how it is’ or ‘everyone else is doing it’. That rather circular argument of how we need money to live in this world, and these are the options for making some (Note Two). In that light, life’s apparently not so much about the value of our participation in human society as it is a picture of money being justifiable as an end in itself.

Because would we choose these things now, if they weren’t deemed so generally acceptable? Our ideas on how best to live and the weight of consequences over opportunities clearly arose out of different times, where things happened on another scale and social realities were quite another story (Notes Three).

So, are the things we do inherited patterns of behaviour or conscious choices? Ideas that may have arisen in relative harmony, once shifted to the global scale, can surely begin to seem questionable if not unacceptable. Is it wise then to take our freedoms as a given, where we do as we please unless someone can convince us otherwise through reason or coercion?

After all, asking ‘why should I do that?’ is an equally valid application of logic, it just takes a different starting point. Whether we interpret our freedom as something that has to be limited or something we continually exercise with caution and respect seems a valuable question. Rather than this default position of demanding a reason to stop, could we view these as decisions we need to freely and intelligently make now?

It’s interesting to consider, and touches into perennial questions of free will and accountability for our actions: would we actively decide to do what we might be fairly passively going along with? Is there freedom from responsibility if we merely go along with others and don’t take the decision to change course ourselves?

Obviously we’re social creatures and often very busy ones, but our actions inevitably add up (Notes Four). And given how these issues underpin education as much as they do the regulation of society, being sure of ourselves in this way is seeming more important now than ever.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Laws and lawlessness
Note 2: Life and money, seamlessly interwoven
Note 3: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 3: Writings on Education
Note 4: People, rules & social cohesion
Note 4: Individual responsibility, collective standards
Note 4: Need to stand alone & think for ourselves

This idea of responsibility is something so powerful, yet it’s also an easy word to throw around (as is any). What does it mean to be responsible, and where does responsibility ultimately lie? It may be relatively easy to craft a convincing or impressive answer to that, but how easy is it really to get to the bottom of?

To start, it can be approached in various ways: the idea of being called upon to answer, being able to respond; the notion of duty or of blame, of those things we are deemed responsible for; or the fact of our capacity itself, of being in the position to respond well. That may not be exhaustive as far as interpretations go, but it’s a solid starting point.

In each of those cases, what would it really mean? Being clear within ourselves about what we’re responsible for as citizens, consumers and humans may be part of it. But then do we limit ourselves to legal parameters and social norms, or hold ourselves accountable to higher moral or ethical standards we might decide to adhere to? Where we draw the line seems to be a personal concern.

Beyond that rather open question of what we’re responsible for, there’s also the sense of our ability to do so: being sure of our understanding, our knowledge, and then our freedom to answer as we see fit. Surely in order to respond we must grasp what’s at stake, how it fits in the bigger picture, and ways our individual response may serve to affect change within things, for better or worse.

It’s something I’ve toyed with at various times in writing here (see Notes One), as it’s central to life in so many ways. It may be hard to address or get a full sense of, especially with the pace of modern life and all its communication challenges, but it also seems essential that we somehow find the space and rise to the occasion (Notes Two).

Because, with all the freedoms of Western society and its marketplaces, it really seems a great deal of responsibility is falling to us as individuals (Notes Three). How we act online, as consumers, socially, in terms of diet, within our culture – in countless areas it’s coming down to us to regulate our behaviour and our choices; otherwise we presumably risk having that freedom curtailed ‘for our own safety’.

Society is almost incredibly complicated, as is human nature: do we truly understand how all this works and the importance of our participation in keeping everything operating smoothly? At times it appears we’re simply ploughing ahead, trusting it’ll all work out and someone knows what we’re doing (Notes Four).

Of course, we could look on this as a daunting task or a creative one. That so much responsibility, so much freedom rests in our hands can be seen as a wonderful thing, a cause for constructive optimism. For me then, the core is in believing that we matter and acting as such.

Notes and References:

Note 1: What inspires all of this
Note 1: Need to stand alone & think for ourselves
Note 1: What is real?
Note 2: Things we can’t talk about
Note 2: How do we find a collective vision?
Note 3: “The Spirit of Community”
Note 3: “Brave New World Revisited”
Note 3: “The Tipping Point”
Note 4: Economy & Humanity
Note 4: Can we overcome purely economic thinking?
Note 4: Ideas around education & responsibility
Note 4: Modern media and complex realities

Ideas around nature, meaning and society have flowed through a few posts lately (see Notes One), and point towards some of the more fundamental realities of life: that we exist in relationship to the natural world and much of human culture over the years bears witness to the changing forms that’s taken.

Traditions are often interwoven with the world around us: harvests, solstices, occasions for celebration, and times for drawing together. Human cultures can be seen to reflect our experiences of the seasons, the solar system, and the practical realities of the civilisations that forged a path alongside them.

That’s clearly a vast conversation, touching into history and belief as much as modern life. But my main point is that culture seems to come out of our connections with the world we live in.

At times that seems to have served to reinforce our place within nature and the ways society depends on it: human activities were directed towards their interactions with the land, upon which survival often rested. Everyday life was largely defined by environment and celebrations were closely tied to the hopes people had to place on that relationship.

All of that can seem naïve to the modern mind, given how we’ve largely divorced ourselves from such obvious dependency on the natural world. But surely that’s largely an illusion? We might appear more separate now, as urbanisation and remote production mean we don’t really see these realities, but to what extent can that ever truly be the case?

These days, the passing of the seasons can seem more an inconvenience we haven’t yet overcome. Our efforts to regulate our environments and increase our comfort seem to be insulating us quite effectively from certain realities. While we might complain about hot weather, cold weather, strong winds and grey skies, we ultimately still depend on nature’s regularity.

Unless of course we intend to generate all plant life artificially and are content to have our cultural realities shaped either by our own inclinations or the designs of the entertainment industry. Which seems an option, I suppose. It would take away seasonal uncertainties and liberate us from shared meanings if we just arranged things for ourselves.

I guess that’s the outcome of modern trains of thought: to be free of our dependence on nature and the meaning we once got from that. I’m not sure how intentional that second part is though. Do we mean to remove the meaning from our lives? Do we want to just define our own personal worlds of meaning?

Maybe we do. For me, there’s meaning to our environments and the ways we choose to live in relation to them (Notes Two). We exist within the world, and its realities of dark and light, warmth and cold, life and death are part of being human. We might seek to overcome that and celebrate signs that we’ve indeed conquered the ‘injustices’ of time, death and mortality, but these things can still be seen to hold significance in life.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Aesthetic value of nature
Note 1: Gardening & local environment
Note 2: Missing something with modern culture?
Note 2: Culture selling us meaning
Note 2: Age, image & self worth

In “Education’s End”, Anthony Kronman also spoke of how limitations effectively give our lives meaning.

Humour is interesting in how it offers us a unique way of processing things, but at times it can also act to ‘stop’ reasoned and important conversation. At what point does that become too much of an obstacle?

The ways humour serves as a release, a way of communicating indirectly and forging human connections over complex realities is really quite beautiful. We all know that life is often contradictory, dark, frustrating and seemingly irresolvable, and laughter can create a bridge across that unspoken knowledge. It lets us bond over the inexplicable aspects of our existence, where laughing about it can seem the most sensible response.

It’s so fascinating in terms of thinking itself: that our intellect can both engage deeply with reality yet hold it in a lighter and much more socially enjoyable space of recognition. It almost seems part of the human condition in the sense that we flit between disaster and release, between the currents of lightness and dark (see Notes One). As intelligent creatures, humour seems to let us walk both paths.

In a way, it seems the flipside of anger. Anger being the place where we erupt more in response to what we see around us (Note Two). As explored in that post, anger often alerts us to what matters and to the injustice we see in the world; a personal reaction of attacking and seeking to destroy what we see to be mistaken.

And, as with my reservations about the effectiveness of anger, I wonder at the limitations of humour. It can clearly serve as a defence: a way of holding things at arm’s length and deflecting what seems too much to handle. While that may be a natural reaction, does it help us move beyond these things and engage with making changes?

At times it seems the use of humour descends more into resignation and mocking – one a sense of apathy, and the other a resort to personal attacks. Which is understandable when problems seem so large, so systemic, so unapproachable. But at those times it also seems that humour loses its edge: dipping too much into powerlessness or anger, instead of walking that fine line of semi-conscious awareness.

Because it really seems that humour may help us admit difficult realities; literally to let them into our mind in a manner that doesn’t incapacitate us with despair or anger. While holding them at that slight distance may make them more manageable, deflecting too much seems to risk us not addressing the truth of the matter at all.

There’s a delicate balance there. And if we simply laugh but feel we can do no more, we’re then in this powerless place we need to be able to move beyond. And I’m really not saying that’s easy (Note Three), but that it seems important to be aware of. Laughter may help us in a lot of ways, especially if we can pick up the threads of hope and despair to build something better out of them.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Living the dream
Note 1: What makes a good life
Note 1: Created a system we seek to escape?
Note 1: What inspires all of this
Note 2: Anger as a voice
Note 3: Things we can’t talk about

What is it that keeps society together, ordering ways we behave and how we view one another and our collective existence? Is it having a common vision, traditions received from the past, the regulation of law, or something else? It’s interesting to consider and all those things play a part; but how aware are we of our role within it all?

The ‘project’ of nationhood is, of course, fairly recent and far from smooth sailing: slightly disparate peoples were drawn together under banners of national mythology, based on some degree of commonality and the inspiring visions of a few. That sense of belonging, identity and mutual benefit became a legacy: something we’re born into, likely take for granted more than our predecessors, and uphold with varying intensity.

My question here though is how this works on a personal level: how an individual learns to understand and relate to society; and where the attitudes, beliefs and actions that serve to sustain shared values and systems come from.

Society’s surely something we have to understand and appreciate. With that, there’s how things came to be and the ideals underpinning a way of life; then what’s expected of individuals in terms of behaviour and responsibility (see Notes One). Family begins shaping our social awareness, emotions and expectations; a task reaffirmed by community and culture, and developed through schooling and personal relationships (Notes Two).

By the time we take our place in the world we hopefully have a good sense of our worth and value; how our actions weave with those of others; and what we can contribute and gain. Whether that understanding’s reciprocal and heart-felt or more transactional is another matter. It also seems that people secure in themselves don’t tend to take more than they need; able to stand and give more freely.

All these things have changed so much in the last hundred years or so. Whereas people once spoke of love for country, obligation, and sacrifice for the common good; now we more often speak subjectively of experiences, identity and image. This individualism is a beautiful part of modern life, yet something still needs to hold us together.

Understanding what we form part of and how vital our constructive involvement is seems more important than ever, but also seems to be wavering. Whereas tradition or moralising once sustained things, these have little place in a modern society grounding itself on more certain knowledge. However, if we’re not acting out of mutual consideration, society must be forever pulling apart.

In so many ways, looking out mainly for ourselves may be creating problems for others (Notes Three). Whether we’re talking empathy, environment or economics, our choices have consequences that strengthen or strain apart our shared realities.

While belief, tradition and community may be fading, letting what they offered pass away completely may leave us with a fragmented reality. Finding a more living understanding of social existence and the parts we have to play within it seems an important project for modern times.

Notes and References:

Note 1: “The Spirit of Community”
Note 1: Laws and lawlessness
Note 2: Antisocial behaviour & the young
Note 2: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 2: Learning to be human
Note 3: Created a system we seek to escape?
Note 3: Listening, tolerance & communication
Note 3: Anger as a voice

For a more philosophical slant on this, there’s Mirrors we offer one another; whereas Shared spaces & how things get done offers a more practical parallel.

Thoughts on culture and how well it’s serving us – given its roots in notions of tending and cultivation – have come up a few times so far (see Notes One); and interest me to the extent that the ideas we entertain and behaviour we embrace seem to really shape society and how we understand our roles within it.

Do our cultural ideas supply us with wisdom, both individually and collectively, for how we choose to live? Do they provide a meaningful, coherent picture of life and uplift us with ideas for how to be, what to work towards, and ways to overcome modern challenges? Is that even what we’re looking for, or is it enough to be entertained or stimulated by some more-or-less finely executed projects?

Looking back to culture in the past, it seems there was meaning there: information about society, its structures and standards, its preoccupations or difficulties, and the patterns of behaviour within and between different groups. In relating themselves to and working through these cultural representations individuals could come to understand their place and their times. Maybe that was constrictive, maybe it was led by some and imposed upon others; but it appears there was a focus, a code, and a general arc to the story.

So, does culture need to do that: sustain society with its ideas and the ensuing conversations? Do the stories, characters, values, and themes contained within cultural forms matter? It seems we know they do in a way, because we speak of representation and role models and we question the impact of certain content on impressionable members of society.

Beyond that discussion of content and intention, there also seems a shift in personal involvement: whereas cultural life was once participatory (thinking of dances, music and singing) and each was part of a more-or-less organised whole; these days it’s often consumed in relative isolation with the whole generally praising the individual. That may or may not be important, but it’s an interesting difference.

It could raise the question of whether we create this social culture through our involvement, or if it’s enough to observe and discuss the work of others. Is this to be an exclusive industry of experts, or a more inclusive and joyful activity? There must be place for both, although they are fundamentally different.

Then recently traditional authority has been waning while the means for market-based popularity has grown; leaving this ground where cultural ideas can tread their own paths and attract a following. So rather than the reins being held very tightly, there’s now this ‘democratic’ culture with little overarching direction as to what the messages are and where they may lead.

In essence, there seems to be a conversational element to culture: there’s what we make of it, what our participation creates, and what it in turn makes of us. And, as with anything that operates as a market, there’s this tension between production and consumption. Finding a healthy balance and direction within that seems a fascinating challenge.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The value of art in society
Note 1: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 1: Romance, love & the movies
Note 1: Complicity and cultural attitudes
Note 1: How many aren’t well represented?
Note 1: Spiritually committed literature

In many ways, history is a vast and elusive subject: a seemingly endless flow of time we may try to come to grips with, drawing out the threads to understand how exactly we got to where we are; countless generations, cultures and individuals who made their way through life and left some kind of mark. Does that help us live our own lives?

With education, it seems it’s hard to do justice to history. How can vast arcs of time be conveyed to young minds so they become meaningful and alive? It’s easier to focus on a distinct period or key facts, but seeing how that sits and relates to everything around it is so much harder to get at. We might draw out a single thread and try to see how that’s woven through time, but doing so may distort its importance or oversimplify the paths toward change.

It takes imagination and effort to put ourselves in the shoes of other people in other times, to try and see how things looked through their eyes. And while modern historical retellings might help us visualise and relate in that way, can we be confident in the truth of these powerful and compelling stories? They often seem to place a modern way of being into a very different time, assuming the human mind itself hasn’t been changed by the process (see Note One).

It really does seem that we shape the world, which in turn shapes us by what’s been created: the ideas of individuals and civilisations serving those coming next (Notes Two). For me, history is very much this picture of a chain of events and discoveries that inform what follows; although sometimes lying dormant for a while, to be picked up again later. People living then must’ve been influenced by ideas and the systems they give rise to, all shaping what they then passed onto others.

Connecting all that with modern times: does it matter? Does it matter if we don’t fully understand our history, but focus instead on a few of the lessons it offers? Is it sufficient to detach ourselves from the weight of the past and self-confidently move forward with the ideas left in our hands and a loose sense of history as portrayed through modern culture or learning? Is that all we really need?

Personally, it seems important to understand what’s passed before and what we’re left with in order that we make wise choices about what comes next. History’s main teaching must be that things change, and we seem in the slightly unique position of being aware of that: we’ve conquered the world; connected its diverse cultures; explored its artefacts; and drawn together the vast wealth of history and the wisdom it offers.

That’s undoubtedly a lot of information to hold in mind, and a weighty inheritance in terms of the power now placed in our hands (Notes Three); which leaves us with the question of how we might best rise to the challenge.

Notes and References:

Note 1: “Ecological Intelligence”
Note 2: Writings on Education
Note 2: Education’s place within society
Note 3: Trying to understand our times
Note 3: Globalised society finding its feet

Then there’s People wanting change which spoke a little of how we might place ourselves within the processes of change.

At times I’ve spoken about culture, economics, sustainability, social identity, and self-worth; about how the things we do impact our social and natural environment (see Notes One). The space where human ideas meets the realities we create together is fascinating; and fashion seems one of the places that more obviously happens.

Fundamentally, we need clothing and – being such a visual part of life – that becomes something to set us apart and provide identity; offering a chance to express who we feel ourselves to be and how we want to be seen. As social, creative beings wanting to communicate and move forward, it makes sense for fashion to become this focus of attention, status and innovation. That picture of a progressive yet tribal psychology guiding human society.

But this does have undeniable environmental, social, psychological and economic impacts. The very fact it has such a central role in our sense of culture and self-esteem must give it a certain business appeal: the constant desire for self-expression and creativity surely fuels large parts of the fashion and beauty industries.

With that almost insatiable demand come these realities of limited environmental resources; business models often involving a degree of exploitation; pollution and waste in both producer and consumer behaviour; the visual and psychological ripples felt from advertising; then the social realities of exclusivity, status, economic power, and cultural worth.

As with so much in life, simple human realities are creating massive impacts; especially now this ‘way of life’ has become extremely organised and profitable. All of that is hard to quantify and grasp, but projects such as “The True Cost” documentary serve to pull together many of these threads with the aim of creating the awareness to shift behaviour.

These areas of life where genuine and important impacts are largely invisible and the industries behind them seem to be meeting essential human needs are challenging to face up to. It takes effort, imagination, compassion and responsibility to “see” those impacts; and something even greater to then let that understanding alter our behaviour. In that regard, it’s akin to the food industry and, more widely, to our social constructs.

Image, fashion, diet, and lifestyle form part of our collective social and cultural lives; they’re the ways we seek to create meaning, share our everyday experiences, and forge social relationships. Which is maybe why such problems truly are challenging: these are important parts of life, but the way we’re going about things is causing pretty undeniable and serious consequences.

With any solutions in life, it seems we either wait for something to be imposed or we create change ourselves. It’s undoubtedly hard to step back, take the time to fully understand, and decide what to be a part of even when the weight of social pressure beckons us to go with the flow. As humans, we may naturally want to belong, participate, and not rock the boat; but we’re also capable of making up our own minds and, thereby, of serving to shape our future.

Notes and References:

Note 1: What do we see in beauty?
Note 1: Intrinsic worth over social identity
Note 1: Complicity and cultural attitudes
Note 1: Is sustainable design an impossibility?
Note 1: How many things are cycles (we could break)