Someone else’s problem is an abstraction. A crisis is when the problem is your own. And a tragedy is when a crisis goes unsolved and blows up in our face. Few of us give serious consideration to the problems of other people. Nearly everyone attempts to solve a crisis that threatens to wreak their own lives, or the lives of their loved ones, and sooner or later all of us experience tragedies.
The gap between abstract problems and tragedies is becoming narrower and narrower. What used to take a long time to emerge, fester, and arrive on our own doorstep is now picking up speed. And the magnitude of tragedies is likewise expanding. Someone else’s problems in another time and place are quickly morphing into global catastrophes. The issue of assigned blame is becoming a moot point. At some point along the trajectory of about-to-be-eaten-by-the-tiger, we need to stop pondering the question about who left the cage gate open and start running like a bat out of hell. Looking back to find the culprit has relevance only once you survive. Our biological makeup figured that out thousands of years ago: When faced with the perception of sudden death our biochemistry shifts into fight or flight overdrive and all systems change away from rational processes and into survival mode. So the balance between thoughtful contemplation and chaos is largely a matter of appropriate timing. If we wait too long our capacity to wrestle with and manage change will be overridden and we will be lost.
To put it mildly, living in complex social systems is a thorny challenge. Others see as absurdity what many see as a perfectly natural picture of the way things are. The notion of everyone being on the same page and getting an equal vote is somewhat of a luxury that we all desire. Most people are kind hearted and really do care about equal rights and the distribution of justice. And during times of relative calm and stability, democracy is the desirable way. I believe this, and I also believe that when catastrophe is looming is not the time to engage in ponderous debates. In case of emergency it is time to change course and adopt an alternate way.
What you’re about to read is not a political manifesto. It is rather, a manifesto about a much more fundamental matter. This is a book that considers who we are as a human race, person by person, until we expand to the entire global family, because until we look at that issue, all the political posturing we could ever create won’t make any difference. People with vested interests are not persuaded by rational discussion. Their agenda is, by design, self-serving, and they will not budge until tragedy threatens their own stance. Ultimately politics, as a pragmatic matter, is not for the people and by the people. It is rather, for particular people and by those same particular people. Everyone is human, regardless of political affiliation or vested interests. If we can find the fundamental link that joins and unites all humans there is a chance for universal survival.
We don’t seem to be motivated so much by warnings as we are by hope, which springs eternal. There is every reason for hope when we make right choices, and every reason for fear if we don’t. The link between cause and effect is hard to avoid, and it is naïve to continue making bad choices and expect good results. So what you’re going to read here is a balance between hope and fear and the discussion is going to give careful scrutiny to what it means to be human from the ground up. In other words this is a book about making both good and bad choices by looking in depth at the human mind—the basis of all thinking.