Lies in civilization are much like ground glass in an otherwise nutritious, delicious buffet. They are dangerous. They are potentially deadly if undetected. Quantity matters. One piece of undetected ground glass is serious. One hundred pieces means that some people will die. Twenty thousand means everyone who partakes of the buffet will likely die.
If one side lies constantly and one of the things they lie about is saying the other side lies, then, of course, your “loyalty” to your own side may get you to thinking: “Both sides lie equally.” Or, even more sadly, “The other side lies!”
Imagine Rembrandt’s Mona Lisa: a beautiful painting. Now, imagine painting a red stripe one inch wide diagonally through the painting. It’s only a small part of the painting, after all. Maybe 10%. But is the value decreased by only 10%? Of course not.
Ever use a dictionary? How much would you pay for a really good dictionary? How about a dictionary with 1% errors? How about one with 10% errors? How about one with 50% errors? How about one with 100% errors?
Imagine you finally manage to save up enough money to buy your dream house. Location: near highways, shopping, & parks. Style: perfect. Condition: perfect. Except for one small thing.
It reeks.
Living in a society that is perfused with lies is like living in a house situated right next to a sewage plant.
The *only* advantage humans have in their struggle to survive is their ability to cooperate and communicate. A lie diminishes that ability to coordinate. The impact is not just that one lie. It’s the spread of skepticism. It’s the felt need to double and triple check everything.
In a complex society, even a tiny bit of deception can multiply far beyond the immediate effects. That is particularly true if a deception passes through a number of weak points in what could be and should be the world-wide web of wisdom.
For example, an employee at a drug company might be pressured to downplay side effects in a report. He does so. But in a corporate culture of honestly, someone will catch the lie and patiently explain that this is not the way things are done around here. The error will be corrected.
And no-one will die from that lie.
On the other hand, the same employee doing the same act in a company with a sociopathic corporate culture might well have that lie not only propagated but further elaborated. As a result, the drug is over-prescribed and over-used. Millions of dollars, and then, that money is like seed money to buy layers and layers of political protection and press protection. At last billions of dollars flow from the pockets of customers into the pockets of the drug company. And, when I say “the drug company” of course, ultimately it ends up in someone’s pocket. Whose? A little of it goes to workers within the company. A huge amount goes to the top executives. But a huge amount also goes to the major stockholders — people who did nothing to discover or promote the drug, but in some sense provided money to support the company.
Guess what? It might even turn out that the drug’s drawbacks outweigh the benefits. In the short run, that might not diminish profits at all.
Again though, we need to realize that the damage to society is not limited to the effects of this particular drug (though those can in and of themselves be devastating effects). It is experiences like this, for instance, that play into vaccine reluctance. Because some drug companies have done some unethical things, people naturally have some degree of mistrust for *all* drug companies for *all* drugs. Nor is the mistrust that such a scheme produces limited to the drug industry. If people believe corruption is widespread, they may themselves become more tempted to engage in it. Even if they don’t themselves engage in lies, deception, bribery, etc., they will certainly be on the lookout for such schemes. It will be harder to take people at their word.
Putting crushed glass in a buffet injures people and ruins the buffet. And, if it happens often enough, it can turn you off from going to any buffets or any restaurants.
Lying can seem attractive in the short term. But in the long run, it will be found out. It will ruin your individual reputation, but it will also tarnish the reputation of your organization and even, to some extent, your entire industry. Beyond that, lies work to spoil society as a whole.
Imagine that a well-functioning society is something like a well-oiled machine. One part connects to another and things function smoothly. Lies are like pouring sand in the gears. Things will move more slowly. Parts will also wear out more quickly. Add enough sand and the motor will burn out or the machinery may catch fire. Would you put sand in your gas tank? Would you add sand to the oil in your auto? Of course not! Why would you support lies in your company or in your society?
Apart from the societal disintegration that lies promote, if you actively pursue a policy of lies to benefit yourself, you are basically taking a kind of informational poison into your own psyche and eventually it will poison your mind. You’ll become more and more addicted to a strategy of relying on lies rather than relying on doing a good job or learning from your mistakes. When someone asks a perpetual liar a question, they will not be able to simply answer. They will have to calculate who knows what and how easily the lie will be found out and try to recall what lies that they have already told to whom.
Just as more and more of an addictive painkiller must be used to achieve the same level of pain relief, so too, an addicted liar will find that they have to tell more and more lies. The lies may at first be “reasonable” lies. That is, at first, a liar may tell lies that are plausible. Over time, they will have to tell more and more absurd lies. If the liar is a popular figure, his or her fans may echo the lies despite not having any relevant direct knowledge. As the lies become more absurd, the fans echo not only plausible, lies but also echo absurd lies. To those who are not addicted to the lies, fan behavior becomes more and more ridiculous and pathetic.
Trunk of Tree had been in a foul mood. Hunger made his belly growl. He had had terrible luck even trying to track a deer. But the sight of two of these two Veritas, well-known to him, and the smell of cooking venison lightened his mood considerably. He said none of that, but instead asked again how they found him.
Cat Eyes explained quickly to Trunk of Tree that they were near her village. She explained that a feast was being prepared right now in honor of the knowledge that had been gained from decoding a substantial part of the great library that had been recently discovered. The Veritas had split up decoding the numerous tomes in the library. It was far too much for any one person although, among all the Veritas, Cat Eyes knew the most of what had been garnered by the people. She had been sharing much of what she learned with Tu-Swift. Now, she explained, a great feast had been arranged and the afternoon was to be spent eating and listening to the lessons that had been gleaned. In the evening, the people planned to reflect on the totality of this information in a great dialogue.
Cat Eyes explained all this to Trunk of Tree as they took the short hike back to the place where he had emerged from the hidden cleft in the rock wall. Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes marked the place with broken branches and a small rock cairn so they could be sure to find it later.
Then, the trio strode back to the center place of the Veritas across the Mountain. Cat Eyes and Tu-Swift kept having to stop for Trunk of Tree to catch up. At last, Cat Eyes said, “Trunk of Tree. All you all right? You are limping. You are wounded? What happened? I see a bandage and blood. Were you attacked?”
Trunk of Tree’s mood darkened again. He did not want to explain how he had wounded himself through his anger and carelessness. “I’m fine. Just a scratch.” He swallowed hard. The truth was that the wound was not healing all that well. He grimaced and tried to keep up with the youngsters so they wouldn’t ask any more about his gash.
The reappearance of Cat Eyes caused more of a stir than usual when people noticed that Trunk of Tree was with them. When he explained briefly how he had come here, the Veritas from the other side of the mountain furrowed their brows. How could a passage out of their valley exist so near that no-one had discovered? Even Trunk of Tree could perceive the skepticism on their faces. He explained that he had only come across the path by sheer accident born of desperate hunger pangs. Tu-Swift explained to the small group how he had marked the trail and three of them jogged off to see for themselves.
Soon, Tu-Swift, Cat Eyes, and Trunk of Tree were seated on overturned tree trunks. People kept coming to Cat Eyes with small questions about the upcoming feast. As she answered their questions, she simultaneously pulled up the pant leg of Trunk of Tree, ignoring his protestations that nothing was wrong with him. He was immensely powerful and could have easily kicked her away. Although a part of his mind pictured that, some more fundamental part seemed to know that his leg was more important than his pride so he let her unwrap the bandages.
When she did so, her nose wrinkled up immediately. She glanced at Tu-Swift who noticed it as well. The wound stunk. Just then a young warrior came up to Cat Eyes meaning to ask her opinion about her role in the upcoming knowledge exchange. Cat Eyes answered curtly and then begged the young warrior to bring her the pouch of blue-green mold that sat in a dark corner of Cat Eye’s cabin. Soon, Cat Eyes was applying the mold to the oozing wound of Trunk of Tree despite his objections.
“I already put yellow dock and plantain on it,” he protested.
“Yes,” replied Cat Eyes, “and that is good. This is even better. We learned about it from one of the many books in the library. There are many things we learned from those books and you will hear about many of those things tonight. I wish all of the Veritas were here to learn what we have decoded in the last few months.”
Cat Eyes nodded as she noted that the sickness had not spread much from the original injury. She bound up the wound again. She glanced at Tu-Swift. She slowly shook her head. “It’s amazing how much of a great gift we have now from our library — and all the knowledge put there by our ancestors. And to think…it was there when my mother’s mother’s mother lived … and we had no idea what it was. Until now.”
Now, she turned to look at Trunk of Tree. She smiled. “You will see later today, Trunk of Tree, some of the things we have learned. She tilted her head. “There are things in there about fighting and strategy as well as medicine.” She paused, smiled and went on: “And, to use your imagination to make yourself happier and solve problems — not simply as a tool for hurting yourself.”
The eyes of Trunk of Tree widened thus confirming her hypothesis.
Trunk of Tree reddened. Cat Eyes reached out her hand and gently touched his shoulder. “It’s a tendency all of us have, Trunk of Tree. There’s no reason to feel embarrassed.
An awkward silence grew between them. She looked at Tu-Swift and back to Trunk of Tree.
Tu-Swift took a deep breath. “For example, when Cat Eyes came to visit our Center Place, I ran off to see her because…well, because I … because I love her.” Now Tu-Swift reddened as well. “Of course, everyone does. I … especially do. But then, Suze died shortly after and I made myself crazy thinking I had somehow been responsible. I didn’t cause her death. That plague though was brought to us intentionally by the Z-Lotz. They’re the ones I should seek revenge on and not on myself. He looked at the face of Trunk of Tree very carefully, the way he imagined that Many Paths would do if she were here.
“I can tell you this, Trunk of Tree. I’ve known Shadow Walker all my life. As have you. And, we know Eagle Eyes as well. They are both good people. They will do … whatever they think is best for the Veritas … and for all the people.” Tu-Swift let this thought sink in through the thick skull of Trunk of Tree. He surprised himself by his next words. “Sometimes, we must be apart from those we love. It’s always difficult. But don’t make it worse by imagining things that you know are not true. I don’t know why, but Eagle Eyes likes you. Surely, you must know that.”
Cat Eyes nodded solemnly. “That’s right. Shadow Walker & Eagle Eyes — these are people we can all trust. Trust is fundamental. You’ll hear more about that at our feast. The destruction of trust is what led to the destruction of … of civilization.”
Trunk of Tree frowned. “Civilization? What are you talking about?”
Cat Eyes sighed. “Just listen to our stories tonight. It’s … there were many people … and many wondrous things … but the people lost the one thing more important than all the others.”
Tu-Swift saw the tears welling up in her cat-irised eyes. “They let their greed, fear, and hate grow … and their love for each other … and for all life … they let that decay … and when it did, it all fell apart. The words that people said came to mean nothing. All trust was lost. And, Trunk of Tree, when all trust was lost, all the energy of the people was put into weapons. Killing sticks were replaced by even less honorable weapons that killed hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands. The people thought that somehow, if they hurt others enough, they themselves would live forever, not as part of the great tree of life, but as something separate and apart, as hard as the mountains and as mighty and as immortal. So did the people come to think.
“The times came of great killing.
“The times came of great forgetting.”
The voice of Cat Eyes became stronger and though she spoke to Trunk of Tree, all the people nearby heard her and drew near to her.
“Now, we are beginning the time of great remembering;
“The great remembering of who we are;
“The great remembering of what we are not;
“The great remembering of what makes us a whole people;
“The great remembering of the importance of truth and trust;
“The great remembering of the horror and sorrow that comes of the many being misled by the few;
“The great remembering of what we could become instead;
“The great remembering that each of us is ourselves but one marvelous leaf on the great abiding tree of life;
“The great remembering that we cannot make ourselves into something separate and forever by destroying the tree that sustains us.”
The white line under the jumping man’s shadow is the “baseline”
I love to play tennis. Before I learned tennis or even knew it existed, I learned badminton. I love badminton as well as table tennis and racquetball. Now, living in San Diego, the weather gods are kind enough to shine sun and blue and warm so that tennis is often possible seven days a week. Unfortunately, my 75 year old body has issues with playing every day.
Before COVID, I went to the gym every other day and lifted. I still exercise my muscles but I can’t quite make it as effective as using real weights. Lack of strength and having flat feet combine to put a lot of stress on my feet and knees. Before COVID (will we call this “BC” at some point?) my strength was good. I was nearly as strong as when I was 16.
As it turns out though, lifting strength is not the only factor that determines how well you can run and jump. The body has, in effect, a number of “springs.” When someone runs (at least when a young person runs), fully half of the power for a running stride comes from the rebound of internal springs which provide power from the previous stride. Our human running springs are primarily the arch, the Achilles tendon and the quad muscles.
My own arches, sadly, have never worked properly. When I step down forcefully, rather than compressing and expanding, my foot slips inward and does not rebound. But the muscles and tendons have also become less resilient with time. Wearing orthotics helps align my body and lessens pain in the arches. But orthotics do not provide the “bounce” of the natural bone arch as it rebounds from the previous step. Nonetheless, I enjoy playing tennis. It’s good for the body, the soul, and the mind.
I enjoy playing singles but I mainly play doubles. And doubles also provides a variety of lessons (and challenges) in teamwork.
Consider that you are positioned near the baseline of the court (far away from the net) and someone hits a ball right at you. As it turns out, it is much much easier for your partner to tell whether this shot is going to be long or not than it is for you yourself to tell. Just today, for instance, I was standing just inside the baseline when a deep shot was hit right at me, about waist high. My partner yelled, “BOUNCE!” I let it go. I might mention that my partner’s eyesight is not so good as mine is. I’m not putting him down. That’s just a fact. Nonetheless, I prepared to hit the ball out of the air until I heard my partner yell “BOUNCE!” When that happened I pivoted and let it fly by me, turning so I’d have a good at where it landed. Two inches out.
It turns out that a similar kind of teamwork is important in the outfield of a baseball game. If you are playing in the outfield and a long fly ball is hit toward you, it is devilishly difficult to tell whether the ball is going to land near you, in front of you, or behind you. When a well-coached team plays, the outfielders will call out to one another and give guidance about whether a ball hit directly to another outfielder is going to land in front of them, roughly where they are or far behind them. In a poorly coached team, they do not help each other in this way.
In a well-coached team, the fielder who is not going to catch a high fly ball does not simply “zone out” and think, “not my play.” Instead, they are still cognizant of their ability and responsibility to help out their teammate who is going to catch the ball, even though they are nowhere near that teammate. Competition for fame, fortune, recruiting, salary, etc. all push toward not helping each other out. But normal people on normal teams actually have a normal reaction to want to help the others on their team. Good coaching enhances a feeling of teamwork. It also involves explaining, at least to the younger players, the ways in which they can help each other. Calling “Forward” or “Back” to a fellow fielder is only one of the many ways teammates in baseball can help each other.
The man behind the mask (the Catcher) and the outfielder trying to throw a player out who is trying to score — that is a delicate sort of dance so that the outfielder throws the ball the spot where the Catcher can most likely tag the runner (advancing player) out.
For a team to function at the highest level, there has to be both the skill to know how to coordinate and mutual trust. Mutual trust means everyone looks out for each other and wants everyone to succeed. Some teams lack one or both of these qualities. If they lack both, it will be nothing more than a set of individuals doing assigned tasks. That is both less effective and a whole lot less joyous way to play Baseball or Tennis. (Or, Life, for that matter).
Perhaps you’re not a fan of tennis or baseball but you like golf. Watch one of the most prestigious tournaments of all, the Masters, played at the remarkably beautiful Augusta National. The winners of the Green Jacket show their excitement with a riotous palette of smiles, tears, cheers, and beaming. Regardless of how the excitement is exhibited, the winner shows a lot of excitement. That level of excitement does not, however, even begin to compare to the degree of excitement that the victors exhibit in the Solheim Cup competition nor the Ryder Cup where teams are competing against each other.
There’s no comparison, to my eyes; or, in my own experience. Don’t get me wrong. I love to win an individual match. I am very competitive, likely too competitive. But I still experience a team victory as — not only more joyous. It’s a different level of joy. A private victory is much like a bite of my favorite food; perhaps a handful of cashews. I love cashews.
But a team victory? That is more like going out to dinner (if you can still remember BC times) at a wonderful and unique restaurant. I think this feeling is nearly universal. The intensity and even quality of that feeling depends on the quality of the teamwork. If the team really knows how to work together and has the empathy and motivation to do so, and if that teamwork is largely the source of the victory, it is all the sweeter.
The best teams have the skill and the motivation to cooperate well. Mediocre teams will lack one or the other of those qualities. Poor teams will have neither the desire to cooperate nor the skill to do so. But there is a fifth type of “team”: one composed of people who are actively working against each other. This is like a cancer in an organization.
If Susan sees Charlie fail to help Barbara as promised, Barbara will be less likely to help Charlie. She may even help him fail. But Susan does not remain unaffected either. She may also try to avenge Barbara. Or, she may say to herself, “Well, hell, if Charlie can get away with blaming someone else for his mistakes, why can’t I?” Mistrust, disloyalty, inefficiency, high turnover rates, actual violence in the workplace, absenteeism, theft — just as you would expect, higher costs are associated with all of these things and all of these things are more common in a toxic environment — one where people cannot trust each other.
In tennis, the on-court team is only two players. You might think the cooperation is simple. It’s more complicated than that. Believe me — or don’t — but it would be another whole essay to explain. One factor that’s important in all types of teamwork is mutual trust. If my partner says “BOUNCE!” and I let it go repeatedly only to watch it drop well in bounds, I’m eventually not going to trust those judgements of my partner any more.
Notice that trust broken is difficult to bounce back from. And, like arches, muscles, and tendons, when a society gets older, it may well have less “bounce” when it comes to forgiving betrayals. Perhaps the same is true for individuals.
I don’t know. But it seems to me (as a liberal) as though Trumpists believe liberals are betraying Trump. But why should a liberal have any loyalty whatsoever to Trump. Initially, I felt some loyalty to the Office of the Presidency, and was willing to watch him with an open mind, but he has shredded trust like a pet hamster named Liberty that fell in the document shredder. Only, in the case of Trump, the pet hamster didn’t just fall in the shredder. Poor Liberty was thrown into the shredder. And, when the legless and hapless hamster tried to squirm its way out, he grabbed a handy Barr to push it back in.
There’s something even worse, from my perspective. My “teammates” on the “other side of the aisle” are being conned. From my perspective, over here, on the side, it is painfully obvious. To them, it is not obvious. The cons are coming right at them like a high line drive and they cannot see how deep these shots are or how close they take us to the brink of a fascist dictatorship or utter anarchy.
I try to tell them, “BACK! BACK!” But instead of going back, or asking someone else, they continually insist they are not being conned. And then, they ask me why I hate America and hate Baseball. (Neither of those are true, by the way).
The ball falls over their head; the other team is scoring runs; and they deny that anything ever happened! They don’t only deny they were not back far enough. They deny there was a ball even hit to them. Or, they insist that they are free and as such, they don’t have to back up just because I say so.
They don’t even run back and get the ball that landed behind them! Someone else has to do that. I look at the scoreboard, and what I see is this:
COVID19 — 300,000 dead America – 12,000,000 unemployed
They apparently look at the scoreboard and see:
Liberal Hoax — 300,000 supposedly dead
DOW —————30,000
Donald Trump worked from day one of his Presidency to put our American “team” in the fifth and last category: a divided team without mutual trust.
We have the skills of teamwork. We have the motivation to act as a team. What is missing is trust. Americans do have the skills to cooperate across every kind of divide. Most Americans do have the desire to work together on some serious problems such as immigration reform, sensible gun control, addressing climate change, increasing employment, decreasing crime, improving our standing in the world, stopping systemic racism. I don’t say all Americans share these goals, but most do. At a more fundamental level, we all want a shot at a decent life and a chance that our kids will do even better. That’s what most people want. We can get all of that and more with teamwork.
The hardest part of that will be recovering and rebuilding mutual trust. There has been colossal betrayal that goes way beyond policy differences between liberals and conservatives or between Democrats and Republicans. Until the Trump administration, there was an expectation of truth; there was an expectation of hiring excellence for the government; there was an expectation that we would face a common enemy like Russia together; there was an expectation that we would all take an oath of office seriously; there was an expectation that people in high places would not, with absolute impunity, line their own pockets from the public treasury. There was an expectation that a President of the United States of America would tell the truth about a deadly pandemic and not spread lies about it and model lethal behavior. There was an expectation that both Republicans and Democrats would put our Democracy and the legitimacy of our elections ahead of conning followers out of millions of dollars just to line the pockets of Donald J. Trump.
All those expectations were broken. Trust was broken. Now, we have to try to see that we’re on the same team and work together.
The most important thing that liberals, Democrats, Republicans, conservatives, and independents can focus on is that our election worked. I don’t just mean that the technology worked or the process worked. What’s most important is that the vast majority of both Republicans and Democrats worked together to make that election happen and be counted and be reported. Yes, there were some high-ranking high-profile Republicans who seemed to be joining the Trump “Let’s Destroy America!” Train; the Trump “If you don’t want me, fine! I’ll burn your silly little democracy down on the way out!” Train. But thousands and thousands of people of all political stripes and all across this country came together to make it work. People in the Great Plains worked together; people in small towns worked together; people in large cities worked together — Republicans and Democrats.
Those who supported Trump need to understand that we were not trying to rain on their parade or hate on them. We were trying to tell them that the damned ball was going over their head! They were being conned! (And many still are). Being conned can happen to anyone. And it’s pretty much always the case that it’s easier to see from the side as shown in the following dialogue.
Grandpa: “Oh, Grandson! You’ll never guess what happened today. I got a letter in the mail from this really nice man in Kremblinia and he’s giving me…us, really… a million dollars! Isn’t that amazing!”
Grandson: “Grandpa. No-one gives away a million dollars!”
Grandpa: “No, no. You don’t understand. It’s not exactly a give away. He can’t get to his money because of political problems in Kremblinia. You know. It’s in Africa. I guess they have corruption there.”
[Au: There!!??]
Grandson: “It’s still a scam.”
Grandpa: “No, it’s real. He just needs my bank routing number so he can wire me the money into my account.”
Grandson: “You didn’t give it to him, did you?”
Grandpa: “Of course I did! You think I’ll turn down the opportunity of a lifetime? Why are you being so negative?”
Grandson: “Call the bank. Quick. He’s going to rob your account!”
Grandpa: “Let me just show you the letter. You can just tell he’s sincere. He’s very religious actually. He was taken from his mother when he just a little kid. Horrible. They do that there. Anyway, he became a Prince in this whole region, but then the Muslims came in. I forget all the details. I’ll show you next time you come over. You’ll see.”
They are also a rather amazing family of creatures. Much like humans, they have managed to reach most of the lands on our planet. Spiders produce silk which, by weight, is five times as strong as steel.
Some make beautiful webs. And some are themselves beautiful. In any case, like every other advanced life form, their internal structure is an incredible design fitted to their environment.
Their behavior is part of that beauty as well. I had an opportunity to observe a fairly large one for a few days. She had built a web, larger than a bicycle tire, all across the entry way of our back deck. My wife and I liked to go out on the back deck, but both of us were reluctant to destroy the beautiful symmetry of the web. I spent some time watching and she always returned to the center of his web after every “search and destroy” mission that she carried out. As soon as something hit the web, she rushed out unerringly to the spot where the unlucky mosquito, fly, or small moth struggled to set itself free. I only saw one insect succeed before the spider wrapped his prey and bit it to immobilize it. After wrapping up the unlucky prey, the spider would go back to the center. The center is a wise place for her to hang out. It gives the minimum maximum distance to “get to” the prey. And, it allows maximum discrimination for which direction to go. It also allows the spider to “run” the same “algorithm” to get to her prey.
Once, it happened by chance, that two little flying insects hit the web simultaneously and quite far apart. The spider rushed off to one of the two and wrapped it immediately in its silky tomb. Then she returned to the center. She seemed to recall that somewhere out there was another meal, but she didn’t know where. And the insect caught was no longer struggling. So — the spider began systematically “plucking” the radial strings of her web one by one. At last she came to the strand which led to the position of the fly who was attempting to play possum. But once that strand vibrated, the fly, out of what might be something like fear, began to struggle again. That was a fatal mistake. In a flash, the spider’s hypothesis confirmed, she ran up that strand and wrapped up that prey as well.
In The Hobbit, as well as The Lord of the Rings, large spiders are willful villains. It’s much the same in Harry Potter. It’s rare for a spider to be one of the “good guys” but it does happen; e.g., in Charlotte’s Web. Spiders can hurt and even kill people. But it is very rare in the United States; on average about 6 per year. About 30 are killed from stinging insects; about the same number as dogs. About 130 are killed from collisions with deer. The biggest killer worldwide, in terms of complex animals is the mosquito. Those critters have partners of course. They transmit malaria, dengue fever, Zika, encephalitis and other diseases. Spiders trap and kill a lot of mosquitos. Does that make them our friends? Is the enemy of my enemy necessarily my friend?
The truth is that the web of life has many players and is a constant dance. We try to make sense of it, but we are not really in a position to really understand how the estimated 8 million species interact. In a few cases, like the novel coronavirus, it seems pretty clear that the virus is not friendly to humans. In this case, the “vector” that transmits the virus is not a mosquito. It’s other human beings — especially those who don’t wear masks or socially distance — who are acting as vectors, spreading disease, and killing their fellow Americans. Is the friend of my enemy my enemy?
A house divided against itself cannot stand.
Which is exactly why Putin is working so hard to divide Americans against each other and to break up the EU and NATO.
Have you heard the story about the tailor who killed giants by hiding in a tree and throwing stones at the giants? Each giant assumed another giant had thrown the stone and they ended up killing each other while the tailor sat hidden in the tree. Except in our case, we know there’s a tailor in the tree throwing stones and it makes no difference. Weird.
Meanwhile, the spider spins a web. Watch her grace. Watch her unity. It isn’t simply the left hand knowing what the right is doing. It’s every one of her eight hands knowing what each of the other seven is doing. When they don’t fight with each other, much can be accomplished.
When Many Paths awoke, she felt strong, as though the life force within her had replenished itself. She glanced over at She Who Saved Many Lives and frowned. The old Shaman’s rapid shallow breaths rasped. Her skin appeared to be covered with chiggers or orange bloated deer ticks. The rash of the red plague — that’s what really caused it. Many Paths swung her legs out and stood. A momentary dizziness swept over her. She remembered the healing medicine. Hopefully, Tu-Swift had left some on the porch as requested. She pulled aside the skins from the entry door but nothing had been prepared. Maybe Tu-Swift had also fallen ill, she thought.
She decided to gather the necessary plants herself and ask those she met along the way whether they had seen Tu-Swift. She met surprisingly few on her way to the riverbank and none of them had seen Tu-Swift. As she crested a small hill and began her descent to the stand of yellow dock, she heard crying. The voice of Tu-Swift. She came upon him silently. He sat on the bank of the river, his arms cradled tightly across his knees. He rocked back and forth slowly and sobbed quietly. She whispered his name, first softly and then more insistently.
He remained unresponsive while she sat beside him and put her arm around him, rocking slowly with him and softly singing one of the grief songs of the Veritas. After a time, he began shaping his sobs into song and singing with her. At first, his voice cracked a lot, but soon his voice grew more even and rhythmic.
When the song drew to a close, Tu-Swift stopped rocking and spoke to his sister, still staring into the roiling waters of the nearby river. “I killed her. I should not have left her. I thought…I thought maybe Cat Eyes had returned. So, I left Suze. And now she’s dead.”
“She is and I am very sorry. It is not your fault, however. She died from this nasty red plague. And, I hate to say it, but She Who Saves Many Lives may be next if we don’t get her some medicine. And soon. Did you gather any of the ingredients already, dear brother?”
“Ingredients? Oh! That’s why I came here. I thought of — Suze and I — we played together here. Right over there in the pond. When I came here, I thought of her and — I could not think of else. But you’re right. We need medicine.” He arose, wobbled a little, and then went down to the stand of yellow dock.
Many Paths spoke to him, “Tu-Swift, you gather the yellow dock, I’m going up that hill to the elderberries. I still have rose hips. I’ll go back and minister to She Who Saves Many Lives. You should continue to stay distant. Tu-Swift, I know you miss Suze, but now we need to concentrate all our energy on saving those who yet remain alive. I am worried about the mother of the tribe and also about Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker. They may not return — all the more urgent to save such lives as we can.
Tu-Swift did not turn to look at Many Paths, but he nodded his head silently and began harvesting the yellow dock. Many Paths climbed the small hill and began using her hands to rake the entire umbel of elderberries from one stalk after another. As she did so, she imagined that each stalk was a different tribe. What might it be like, she wondered, to sit down and talk among six tribes. How it could not just be chaos? There would have to be rules, she decided, and everyone would have to agree to the rules and to kick out any tribe who did not follow the rules.
Many Paths finished quickly and plod back down to the riverbank. Tu-Swift had finished as well. He did not look cheerful, but he did look as though, at least for now, he had decided to rejoin the world of the living. They strode back up to the village and boiled more tonic for She Who Saves Many Paths. As they worked, Many Paths related to him the plan to get all six tribes together in a single Great Dialogue.
“I have been imagining, Tu Swift,” she explained “that we should contact each of these tribes separately first, to see whether they would participate and to understand what each tribe sees as a possible benefit and also so that we might know of any concerns they have.”
Tu-Swift agreed that this approach made sense. “Do you think it matters which tribes you contact first?”
“I do, but I am not sure yet of the right order. I do think though that we should start with the Veritas beyond — I mean — the Veritas on the other side of the Twin Peaks.”
Tu-Swift tilted his head at this comment and looked at his sister quizzically.
“Yes, I think you should definitely be one of those to visit our cousins. But first, we need to get those Veritas of the Center Place healthy — those who can be. Some considerable thought is needed to … to build … a plan about how to conduct such a large meeting.”
Many Paths continued. “All tribes must agree to meet and to tell the truth, and of course, not to fight, or give such “gifts” as those the Z-Lotz last gave to bring sickness and death. I have been thinking also of how our lives relate to the lives of others. We are like … each of us has a different path. And, we learn along these different paths and we come to Dialogue with each other and we learn from those who took different paths and we teach others about our paths.”
Tu-Swift nodded. “Yes. And — and even when someone — even when someone dies. They have changed our life and taught us things and shown us things…. I learned so much from Suze. I miss her, Many Paths. I miss Suze. And, I also miss Cat Eyes.”
Many Paths spoke gently. “I know. I know you do. Cat Eyes you may see again in the flesh but Suze you will meet only in your dreams and in your heart. And there is a part of you that is her. By being aware of how we are all inter-connected, not just all of us within the Veritas, but how also the Veritas — we are not — we would not be what we are except for other Tribes. And humanity itself would not be humanity without the trees, the birds, the vines, the fish. Just as we cannot put ourselves as more important than our tribe, we cannot put our tribe above all of the tribes. We cannot put humanity above all of the rest of life. It makes no sense.”
The tea was ready so Many Paths asked Tu-Swift to prepare more for others who may be in need but to keep his distance from those who were ill. Many Paths herself set off for the Old Mother and as she walked, she sang a new song.
“It is foolish to put Humanity above The Great Tree of Life.
It is foolish to put Tribe above Humanity.
It is foolish to put your own Family above the Tribe.
It is foolish to put your own Person-Life above your own Family.
It is foolish to put your temporary pleasure of a moment above your own Person-Life.”
She pulled aside the curtain and She Who Saved Many Lives had apparently propped herself up to take tea. Her voice cracked as she spoke, but there was still a lively child’s twinkle in her ancient yellow eyes as she said, “Indeed you are right, Many Paths. It is childish, foolish, or crazy to put the part above the whole.” The Ancient Shaman laughed a laugh which was part cough, but no less genuine for that.
The Old One spoke again. “And indeed, you are the leader this tribe needs. If you please, a little tea, and then I must rest again. I cannot say for how long.”
We now live (at least in the USA) in such a divided and divisive political climate that I hesitate to bring up something that sounds political but really isn’t. I don’t even have a position, at least as of yet. It’s just a thought I had while I was reaching out to people in India and inviting them to my blog.
Here it is. The USA has a very competitive and individualistic culture. It’s been that way my whole life, but now, it’s insanely so. For one thing, people spend proportionally much more time watching TV and playing on the Internet than they do interacting face to face. In effect, everyone is “competing” not just with local talent, but with people from all over the country. In a nation of 330,000,000 people, 329,999,999 of them will not be the best runner in the country. The vast majority of people will never be winners. This may be why lotto and the Reader’s Digest drawing may be so appealing to so many.
But it isn’t just running, and throwing, and high jump where we see competition. We have contests around human activities that have traditionally been mainly about bonding and cooperating, not about competing and winning. We have contests about cooking, and dancing, and singing. I grant you that in the past, small communities might have a dancing contest, once a year. But most of their activity was cooperative activity face to face, and certainly not cutthroat competition. Now, the contest is not part of the yearly festival. The contest is all there is. And, for the most part, the contest is all that is broadcast.
It seems that we here in America, with many exceptions and so on, have a culture of individuality and contest is everything there is. Oh, and of course, money. For instance, for far too many Americans the first question they ask about anything is “how much money?” I’ve seen articles that purport to tell retirees what the best place to retire is. Some of those articles focus solely on the financial aspects. Some articles ask which college provides the best education but all they really talk about is ROI.
We’ve actually accomplished a lot as a nation with this kind of crazy culture. It helped us achieve in terms of invention, discovery, and innovation. But what if the problems of the 21st century are of a fundamentally different nature? What if most of the problems we faced in the 20th century resonated well with a culture that encouraged competition, but that now, as we embark on the 21st century, the nature of problems has shifted. Perhaps now we face problems that require a much more collaborative and cooperative cultural attitude in order to solve?
Naturally, these are large trends that I’m talking about. Not every single problem we faced changed lock-step overnight. Let’s examine some examples though. A 1930’s problem might be: “How can we clear cut this forest as cheaply as possible?” And the logging company that solved that problem “won” and got rich. A 2030’s problem might be framed this way: “Is it feasible to provide material by using this forest in a sustainable and humane fashion? How?” One lends itself fairly well to top-down direction. One does not. The reader can guess which is which.
A 1950’s problem might be: “How can we entice consumers into buying one of our new cars when their old car still works?” A 2050’s problem might be: “How do we provide a transportation system that is effective, efficient, and pleasant for everyone involved?” One is about manipulation and disregards collateral damage. The other collaboratively looks to a sustainable solution without side-effects that are so negative they outweigh the good done by the transportation system.
Can American culture evolve quickly enough to be a partner on the world stage in the 21st century? If not, the absolute best we can hope for is slow decay full of internal bickering and hostility as people point fingers and shout loudly in order to establish blame.
Do we really need to change our culture and change it quickly to avoid that? Or, is the emphasis on competition and individuality still the right way to go?
Other countries and cultures are already ahead of us in cooperation. Look at the cost versus benefits of their health care systems for one.
How can we change and work together as a culture to a develop a more cooperative view when we seem to be so divided and competitive? That is a real puzzle.
Do you have a piece of that puzzle? I’d love to hear about it.
Or, do you think we should “double down” on competition and individuality? I’d love to hear about that as well.
“She Who Saves Many Lives” began the very next dawn to craft ten of The Second Ring of Empathy. This she fashioned from bronze as well but each ring sported a small but fiery opal. Each was beautiful and ever-changing yet each was different from each of its kin.
After caressing the final touches on the first such ring, she summoned that one of “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintopswith the Eyes of Others” who was known among the Veritas as “She of Many Paths.” She had been named this because of her penchant for trying many paths before settling on the way to take.
The instructions to this first such were to immediately begin fasting. On the dawn of the fourth day, “She of Many Paths” was instructed to travel to the twisted oak near the waterfall that sings and to sit quietly by the dark pool at the bottom of the falls and notice all that she saw. When the sun was high she was to return to “She Who Saves Many Lives” and tell all that he had observed. And, it was so. And so she did.
{Translator’s Note}: It isn’t said in this part of the legend that the initiates were explicitly told to be silent, but those familiar with the Veritas will see that such secrecy was indeed implicitly assume. Naturally, the young Veritas were sorely tempted to share their experiences with each other. However, they most probably did not. If they did, the narrative below makes it clear that any such sharing was well disguised.
“She Who Saves Many Lives” had not been idle. While “She of Many Paths” had been fasting and observing, the shaman had been crafting another opal ring set in bronze. After “She of Many Paths” shared her observations, “She Who Saves Many Lives” summoned another of “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others.” The girl was called “Eyes of Eagle” for her superior eyesight. “She Who Saves Many Lives” told “Eyes of Eagle” that she was to drink nothing and eat nothing for the whole next day. When the dawn of the next day came, she was to travel to the twisted oak, rest, reflect, and observe. When the sun was high, she was to return to “She Who Saves Many Lives” and tell all that she had observed. And, it was so. And so she did.
From the time of the crescent moon to the first quarter, no more were called from among “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintopswith the Eyes of Others.” It happened then, that a day became hotter than any could remember. No-one wanted to do anything besides sleep and swim. At noon, “She Who Saves Many Lives” summoned another of “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintopswith the Eyes of Others.” He was called by the Veritas “Shade Walker” for his definite preference to stalk, walk, and sit in the shade. “She Who Saves Many Lives” instructed “Shade Walker” to trek the journey to the twisted oak; to sit by the dark pool (but not partake of its refreshing waters); instead to observe and reflect and then relate it all back to “She Who Saves Many Lives.” And, it was so. And so he did.
{Translator’s Note}: In the recounting of the next part of the narrative, I have slightly shortened the repetitive structure of the original since the modern reader is much more impatient than were the Veritas.
One by one, “She Who Saves Many Lives” called each of the remaining from among “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of the Others” and gave them a task. Each such task, “She Who Saves Many Lives” constructed to be especially apt for that particular person. Each such task was different. Each such task was designed quite deliberately to put each particular person in a different frame of mind. Just as the first three had been hungry, thirsty and unbearably hot, so too were the successive candidates from “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others” variously exhausted from physical labor, desirously aroused by tales, angry, fearful, over-filled with food, in pain, and in a happy and hilarious mood. “She Who Saves Many Lives” knew well that each person would see, smell, hear, feel, and recall different things because of these different states of mind. And, as she heard their various recountings, her judgment on this was confirmed.
On the day when Winter and Summer balance each to each and Summer promises to give way to Winter, since all had now accomplished their tasks, “She Who Saves Many Lives” invited all them to a council fire. They were now asked to dialogue about their observations of the deep pool, the spraying cataract, the twisted oak and the nearby surrounds. “She Who Saves Many Lives” did not speak but listened carefully to all that was said.
{Translator’s Note}: Here the word “dialogue” is used to convey a process much like Bohm Dialogue. The English word “dialogue” is often erroneously thought to connote a two-sided debate because of the apparent Latin root “di” meaning “two.” However, the English word “dialog” actually comes from the Greek roots, “dia” meaning “through” and “logos” meaning “meaning.” A dialogue is not properly a debate with two sides. Rather it refers to a process of developing meaning through the processes of the group: recounting experiences, listening respectfully, and reflecting upon what was said. No-one “wins” and on-one “loses.” It is much like group problem solving except that there is no specified problem to solve. More on Bohm Dialogue can be found here. Again, with a nod to the great impatience of the modern people, I have taken the liberty to summarize much of what was actually related.
“She of Many Paths” spoke first of the many frogs, rabbits, and insects she had seen by the dark pool. She spoke of how tasty they would be and what manner one could cook frog, rabbit, and dragonfly but she had been instructed only to observe and thus had not eaten any though she was quite hungry. She also observed how frogs lay just beneath the surface of the water jutting their quick tongues out to capture fly or mosquito. She had also observed rabbits eating the large ripe blackberries she would have rather had for herself.
“Eyes of Eagle” said she had not noticed any rabbits at all though she had seen a few dragonflies skimming the water eating mosquitos. There may also have been frogs but mainly, she had noticed that the water falling over the cataract fell mainly into the deep pool but many drops also hit upon the rocks at the sides of the waterfall and that such drops splattered high into the air. At some times of the day, these made rainbows. Several times, wonderful cool breezes wafted mist onto her thirsty tongue.
“Shade Walker” had also noticed such lucky sprays. He recounted that when he first arrived beside the deep pool, he could think of little else than how wonderful it would be to dive into the depths of that cooling pool. Five fish jumped into the air from the pool and then dove back in. “Shade Walker” had imagined five times that he had been such a lucky fish. He had thought he might go mad with the heat and began silently cursing his ancestors for ever leaving the water. As the sun continued its sky journey however, he noticed the shadow of the twisted oak approaching him. Soon, his knees and feet were in the cool shade of the twisted oak. Soon, his torso and finally his face and head were also in shade. Still the water splattered off the rocks making a cooling mist. When the sun was half-way between its high point and sunset, a cool breeze flitted through the glade.
So in turn, did each of “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others” recount to the others their observations. Each of “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others” listened respectfully. Occasionally, one would make a brief comment. “She Who Saves Many Lives” sat in silence, neither speaking word, nor gesture, nor grin nor grimace.
Now it came to pass that each of the ten sat silently reflecting a long while on the experiences of the others. At last, “Shade Walker” spoke: “It seems that perhaps the same place seems quite different depending on whether it was day or night.” All nodded.
“Eyes of Eagles” spoke next. “As well, the hungry see food; the thirsty see water; the hot, see shade; the fearful hear enemies; the exhausted see little but ways to rest.
The one known as “Bent Finger” claimed that his observations had been the best and encompassed the whole of what everyone else had seen.
“She of Many Paths” asked whether he had noticed dragonflies catching mosquitos or rabbits eating blackberries.
“Bent Finger” scoffed, “I meant important things. I saw all the important things.”
“She of Many Paths” then proceeded to tell a story about her own experiences the point of which was that it is sometimes difficult to know at the time what is an important observation.
“Many Muscles” opined that he had had the most difficult task for “She Who Saves Many Lives” had sent him exhausted from three day’s worth of hard labor to sit and observe. “In such a state, it is very difficult to observe anything.”
“She of Many Paths” observed that she had probably never been so exhausted as “Many Muscles” had been and therefore it would be difficult for her to know exactly how “Many Muscles” had been feeling just as it would be difficult for someone without three days hunger to know just how she had felt.
“That’s my point exactly!” added “Bent-Finger.” I was probably the only one in a good mood and that’s why I saw the most.
Their dialog continued for many hours until at last “She Who Saves Many Lives” spoke.
“I thank you each for your many observations and as well for your thoughtful reflections each to each on what each of you said. I think the future generations of the tribe will be well served by such as you. Indeed, no one person can feel and see and hear what many can. Hopefully, you will now be in a slightly better position to know what it’s like to be hungry, thirsty, hot, tired, aroused, angry, fearful, over-sated, in pain, or happy. I have made my decision.”
At this, “She Who Saves Many Lives” stood and began walking around the outside of the circle, handing each of eight among “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others” one of the rings of opal. “Many Muscles” and “Bent-Finger” received no such ring. For
“She Who Saves Many Lives” waved her hand and extinguished the remaining embers. She spoke thus: “Arise now, rest, and further contemplate the teachings that each of you has provided to the others. And, know that it is hard to know what someone else is feeling be they hungry, thirsty, hot, tired, aroused, angry, fearful, over-sated, in pain, or over-happy. Soon, there will be another task for you who would earn the Third Ring of Empathy.”
{Translator’s Note}: I should have made it clear that I am not so much creating these stories as translating them from the original language family known by pseudo-linguistic scholars as the Veritas language; a language remarkable mainly in the mythical nature of their myths. This is quite different from every other set of creation myths because so many (though not all) of the people of every other religion know that their story is the “correct” one. There is no way to tell which myth is true, because they are all myths. However, there is a way to tell whether the sun is still in the sky. Go out and look. And say what you see. And if you disagree, solve the problem together. Fighting it out is completely stupid. What you need to do together is uncover the truth. But I diverge from the task. Back to the translation:
The people of Micah’s tribe lived long and prospered untold generations in many camps on all sides of the lake of reeds and bubbling streams. Using their gifts of sounds, made whole into the patterns of language by the careful work of the story-weavers, they prospered greatly. In a nearby valley, the people soon found the field of flowers. Whenever someone felt sick at heart as sometimes happened, the wise would walk with the world-weary to the field of flowers. Here they would sit together talking quietly among the buzzing bees about this and that. Sometimes, the wise would spin tales to help the weary once again see the unity of life; the essential oneness of all things; the long view; the broad view. The weary grew weary no longer and the pair returned to the nearby village, both renewed as to purpose. Now, the brick-makers made bricks with love in their heart for they could see that their bricks were part of a pattern that made life better for everyone in the village and their children and their children’s children and their children’s children’s children. The bread-makers baked bread with love in their heart for they could see that their bread was part of a pattern that made life better for everyone in the village and as well, for their offspring for all generations. The bead-makers polished beads with love in their hearts for they knew they were making the world more beautiful with each passing day and that they could teach their children and their children’s children to do the same.
As the people prospered, some explored well beyond the shores of the lake and settled on the sides of mountains while others journeyed to edges of deserts. Still others moved to the depths of the forests. Over time, the people began to build different buildings that were suitable for different locales. Over time, the people began to weave different kinds of clothing as appropriate to different climates. Over time, the people learned to hunt different game and to gather different plants. Over time, they began to weave different sorts of baskets. Over time, they began to weave different sorts of stories as well.
{Translator’s Note}: Is this surprising? Would you expect anything else? Doesn’t this seem to comport precisely with your own experience in life? Oh, well. Back to the story.
Yet, the people did not fight battles over whose stories were correct. If the were stories about things that could no longer be seen or heard, and had no impact on one’s actual life, everyone agreed that everyone could have their view.
When it came to things that could be proven, one way or another, all the people worked together in a spirit of curiosity because all wanted to know the way of things. Some of every tribe went together as friends into the field of flowers. And, here they thought, and they spoke and they listened. And they agreed on ways to test that which they did not know. And, the people checked each other’s logic and it happened many times that new ideas came from their speakings and listenings and thinkings.
All the people worked together, though they built different sorts of buildings. All the people worked together, though they wove different kinds of clothing. All the people worked together, though they hunted and gathered differently. All the people worked together, though they wove different sorts of baskets. All the people worked together, though they wove different stories.
And the people saw that the very fact that there were now so many tribes and so many ways of building and so many ways of weaving and so many different ways of hunting and so many different stories was a testament to their strength as a people. If they had not flourished and expanded and become different, they would be but a tiny tribe with one kind of building and one kind of clothing and one kind of hunting and one kind of story. Far from being reasons to fight, these were reasons to celebrate. And whenever they sought to settle a disagreement, they began with a recognition of their common ancestry and acknowledged that it was only because of their tribe’s success that they spread out to different situations and that these situations led quite naturally to different ways of doing things. This is what the people did every single time.
Until, they forgot. They forgot to go to the field of flowers. And they forgot to go in a spirit of love. And they forgot to begin by acknowledging their common ancestry and they forgot to acknowledge that their differences were a testament of their mutual success. This was something to celebrate! But they forgot.
{Translator’s Note}: You can see in the primitive pattern of repetition the kind of immature thought process that a culture like this is prone to. In our modern societies, we have obviously moved far beyond that to systems that exaggerate the differences among people (for profit, mainly but sometimes just out of hate) and cause arguments and prevent common resolutions and instead make more profit out of sending other people’s kids off to be maimed or killed in wars and also, by the way, to maim and kill people that they don’t really know from Adam. And, how much do the surviving soldiers really gain from all that compared with the destruction of lives and property that they do on orders? But I digress. Yes, I was simply making the point that we are so much more evolved now than were the Veritas. Now, we do not only build buildings; we bomb them down. Now, we do not only weave baskets, we shred them to pieces. Now, we do not only weave stories to entertain or to teach the truth but we weave stories to deceive. Oh, incidentally, How and Why they Forgot is a different myth to be translated soon.
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