“That´s right! Life without philosophy? Never! Not every second, but in the right moments.”
This was a response of a friend to my comment about the need to slow down and think about the current buzz around ‘digitalisation’. I raised the issue at the recent MusicBase conference in Potsdam. There was a panel session about ‘Digitalisierung’ and the audience was asked specifically not to question the basic idea that it is a good thing, because ‘the train is already up and running’. I’m not very good at obeying directives like this, so I raised my hand.
I wanted to know if the panel had contemplated where all this was leading. After all, 200 years ago, at the start of the industrial revolution, we began the headlong rush to coal-powered mechanisation and mass production. Which led to oil. Which led to our current long list of global crises. Have we learned the lesson about the dangers of short-term thinking?
Although our ancestors (like us) couldn’t see the future, we know today that the acceleration of production afforded by the use of fossil fuels led to the acceleration of production and consumption. Next came pollution of land, sea and air, obscene inequalities of wealth and power, rapid and genocidal colonialism, and of course climate heating, mass extinction and the related crises we have today. So they were, in my opinion, right to question the so-called ‘progress’ of their times. It is always better to have questions that are hard to answer than answers which cannot be questioned.
So I say to my friend that ‘philosophy’ - that is, the process of reflecting on the wisdom of our actions and assumptions - is something that should indeed be an everyday thing. It should be ‘every second’ in the sense that in any second it is appropriate to ask the questions. A practical philosophy should inform everyday behaviours. Otherwise it risks becoming a purely academic activity left to professionals who do it during work hours, and the rest of us can ignore it in favour of the serious business of getting stuff done. And if that means not thinking through the longer term and wider impacts of what we are doing, we should not be surprised when our ‘serious business’ is directly threatened in the future.
Looked at another way, it is possible to discern someone’s philosophy from their actions and attitudes. We are what we do, not what we say. A person behaves in any one moment according to deeply held and often unconscious beliefs and assumptions about the world. If we don’t question these in ourselves we risk acting in ways that are offensive or harmful to others. We risk behaving in ways that are sexist, racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, damaging to the natural world of which we are part, etc. This also applies to society, which is the sum of us.
Arguably, the most destructive of all widely held and unquestioned assumptions is what US writer Derrick Jensen calls the myth of human supremacy. This tells us (humans) that we are the top of the food chain, the peak of the pyramid, the ones ‘in charge’, the most important beings on the planet. British writer Melanie Challenger also reveals and explores this in her recent book ‘How To Be Animal - What It Means To Be Human’)
In different forms this underpins our obsession with technological fixes to systemic problems brought about by human behaviour. It makes it OK to kill other animals and plants (ie ecosystems) in order to further our goals of ‘wealth creation’ (which is always only temporary wealth creation for a few). And it bleeds into human cultures when some groups in society denounce others as ‘animals’, ‘vermin’, ‘dogs/rats/cockroaches’ etc. By ‘demoting’ people to these ranks, some groups feel legitimised to exterminate them.
And the sum effect of this myth is that too many believe, unquestioningly, that the planet we live on is really here for us to exploit as we see fit. This is causing problems.
If we had an everyday philosophy that questioned these things, maybe stuff would be different. But philosophy only ‘in the right moments’ suggests that it is not essential to our understanding and behaviour at all times. It suggests that ‘philosophy’ is a sort of hobby that we can pick up or drop when it suits us. And it suggests that we don’t really need it at all times, only sometimes. When it doesn’t impede our other goals.
I contest this idea, because I understand ‘philosophy’ not as an academic pursuit carried out only by professional philosophers at universities (although it is also that), but as the everyday compass with which we navigate the world. Each of us has a personal set of beliefs and assumptions - many of which are broadly shared with others - that give us literally a sense of direction. Whether we are fully aware of it or not, our ‘philosophy’ is continuously guiding our choices and reactions. So it makes no sense to me to say that we only need philosophy ‘in the right moments’.
In fact, I think it’s a cop-out. I think this idea, if taken to heart, absolves us of the responsibility to challenge and question assertions and developments. Thus I suspect that much of the current drive towards digitalisation is pushed through irresponsibly, without serious ‘philosophy’.
I wish that those who champion the rush to digitalisation would spend more time considering the underlying values and assumptions that legitimise the use of precious and limited resources for this purpose. Will the short term benefits really justify the longer term effects on our world?
I wish that those who champion digitalisation would question their own motives in the light of future generations. In two hundred years, what will our great-great-great grandchildren have to say about our decisions? Is it actually OK to pour resources and energy into music technology, artificial intelligence, algorithm-driven finance systems and surveillance capitalism, given that we also know the planetary and biological costs of the resource and energy use involved?
What has to be true for our modern world to exist the way it does? And what does it mean for the ecosystems which support all life on the planet, including the lives of all future generations?
And what sort of philosophy would help us to navigate less harmfully through this living breathing world?
I suspect, whatever that is, it will have to be an everyday philosophy, and not just one ‘in the right moments’.
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