On daylight-saving time

Twice a year, there are lots of comments in social media about the stupidity of daylight savings time. Israel has DST too, and keeps in step with Europe and North America with regard to the date of the change-over. But many nations, like India and China, don’t bother with DST. Those two huge nations also impose a single time zone from east to west, regardless of the inconvenience it must cause to areas distant from the capital.

In Israel, achieving D.S.T. on those dates was a hard-won battle fought by the secular parties against the religious parties in the Knesset, who made many of the arguments being made today by Europeans and Americans, whereas actually they were interested in making it more convenient for early morning prayer times.

My own opinion is that if DST saves energy and emissions, even by a little, then DST is worthwhile. But research seems to be inconclusive, with most studies pointing to a small saving in lighting in the evening hours, when DST begins in the Spring. Obviously more work needs to be done.

I sometimes think about trying to live my life more in tune with daylight, because really, what’s stopping me? One way to do it would be personally to instate universal time, and break the connection between local clock time and bedtime. If I know that sunrise comes locally at a certain hour, even if it’s non-intuitive like currently 04:00 U.S.T. (06:00 local time, after moving the clock back), then that’s the time to begin my day. In order to get 7 hours sleep, I need to get to bed by 08:00 U.S.T. (22:00 local time). That gives me eight hours, because I usually wake up for an hour in the middle to do some writing or reading. The only thing stopping me is that it’s inconvenient to be on a different time zone from everyone else, or even to go to bed earlier than they do. For example, my kids call me to do baby-sitting once or twice a week – which means staying up till about midnight locally.

The 24 hour clock

Americans are about the only people who still almost universally go according to the 12 hour clock and write “8 pm”. Everywhere else, the 24 hour clock is favored. I noticed that in France, and perhaps in some other countries, people have even got used to saying the time according to the 24 hour clock: They will often say that “dinner will be at 19,” or at “20 hours” for example. Israelis will still say “4 in the afternoon” or “8 in the evening”. It would sound funny to say “at 20” or “at 20 hours” in Hebrew. Perhaps that’s what they say in the army, I don’t know, just as British and American soldiers do?

Date notation

The ISO 8601 extended format date, 2022-10-31 is the only format for me. It avoids the confusion between international and American formats; it’s readable, makes sense, and, as a file-naming convention, helps to keep files in order by name. Unfortunately, Israel is not among the countries that has accepted it.

My phone camera names photos according to the ISO 8601 standard format (without the human-friendly dashes), though it makes a (permitted) custom variation for adding the time “20221028[underscore]105411.jpg”. My other camera uses a sequential naming format (P1234567.JPG). As a result, it’s a struggle, in applications like Darktable, to put the image files in order. Camera file-naming conventions too should be standardized according to the ISO date and time too.

Kfar Hittim

Went up to the Sea of Galilee with the family, staying in Kfar Hittim, in the large house of an Israeli-Indian couple who seem to spend most of their time in India. We were 12; 8 adults and four kids. Kfar Hittim is near the place where Salah ad-Din’s forces won a decisive battle against the crusadors towards the end of the 12th century. It’s said that they won by cutting the crusadors off from the lake and then starting a wildfire where they were encamped. The battle decimated the crusador forces. Afterwards, more than 200 knights were beheaded, and the ordinary soldiers were enslaved. The king and some of the barons were shown mercy.

In 1948 the Palestinians were forced out of the area; the village of Hittin and others were evacuated or destroyed.

An earlier battle was fought in the time of Herod against rebels that were holding out in difficult to access caves in the cliffs of Arbel. They were defeated when Herod’s forces sent down soldiers in chests, who set fires at the cave entrances and smoked out the rebel fighters and their families.

The same caves must have been an ideal domicile for the paleolithic people who earlier inhabited them, in an area then teeming with wildlife.

The whole area is geologically extreme, a landscape formed by extinct volcanos and earthquakes, the sheer cliffs plunging almost 400 meters – and the lake itself well below sea level. It’s a small part of the Syrian-African rift – a feature that goes all the way down to Africa’s great lake system. A great tear in the earth’s crust, which till today is disturbed by constant tremors, though most of them are too faint to feel. We looked down over the valley from the edge of one of the two “Horns” of Hittim, as these high cliffs at Arbel were known.

The Climate Book

I pre-ordered The Climate Book, by Greta Thunberg from Kobobooks, for my ereader and it arrived in time for the weekend. It looks promising: a kind of one-stop-shop climate primer with chapters by more than a hundred experts, thinkers and writers.

Villa Triste

I enjoyed this Patrick Modiano novel as much as another of his that I read last year. His novels are often short, which suits me, as I read very slowly in French and often need to consult my Kobo reader’s French dictionary. I like his particular style of “auto-fiction” and will probably read more of his books.

Lupin

A similar exercise is watching French TV series on Netflix. It’s quite laborious as I need to stop the video often to absorb the subtitles; an hour long show can last a couple of hours, that way. Eventually I will hopefully calm down and stop trying to catch every mumbled throw-away bit of idiom. I tend to approach languages as I did when learning Sanskrit – a mistake, no doubt.

“Lupin” itself is entertaining, though often quite ridiculous. I don’t know if it will continue to hold my interest.

India

During the weekend we were discussing our travels. M said that her impression of India was that, more than in other places, she felt that people were very close to the earth and to the basic realities of life. I know what she means, but I’m not sure that it’s true anymore. It seems to me that many Indians are caught up in illusions and frivolities that have little to do with basic needs.

They can apparently now afford to forget all about the “realities of life”, and instead promote a toxic blend of nationalism and religious fundamentalism. Here are people trying to trying to persuade the courts that mosques that have been standing for a millenium are actually Hindu temples; or that somewhere in the Taj Mahal is a secret cupboard crammed with the Hindu idols pillaged from an earlier temple. Inspired by the destruction of the Babri mosque in Ayodhya, They would like to see thousands more mosques either destroyed or converted into temples.

Fanatics there always are; the problem is that in modern India they are increasingly supported by the government, the police, and sometimes by the judiciary. Fanatics are no longer a small minority but the power in the land. They enjoy popular support. The situation has many parallels to Israel, whose government is also increasingly in the hands of rightwing pyromaniacs. But there are differences. The political agenda here is different and more focused. It’s less about religion, more about colonisation. Zionism and Hindutva may both be nationalistic ideologies that seem to hark back to an earlier era, but they are not quite comparable.

Optimism vs pessimism vis à vis the climate emergency

In his recent interviews, Kim Stanley Robinson has been saying that the 3 or 4 years that have passed since he wrote Ministry of the Future have given him more room for optimism that we will successfully address climate change. On the other hand, Amitav Ghosh another novelist who has been doing some non-fiction writing on climate change, looks at the same period and finds reason to be pessimistic. Probably both writers would qualify such categorical statements, but that’s the drift. Others like Yanis Varafoukis, Noam Chomsky, Miguel Fuentes and (ultimate pessimist) Guy McPherson have been weighing in on the subject.

None of these are climate change experts. They are, like all of us, following the accumulating studies and news reports, while trying to understand and figure out how to address the changes that are unfolding. What we individually bring to the picture is the life experience that contributes to our perspective and to our tendency towards positive or negative thinking.

My own life experience comes from observing the Israeli – Palestinian conflict while living in a small Jewish – Arab community. There have been moments of great optimism and of pessimism. The optimism at the moment of the Oslo accords and the pessimism at the breakdown and second intifada of 2001, and everything since. As a community we haven’t given up. In talks to groups of visitors, I have often said that a source of optimism is the knowledge that the two peoples are stuck together, clinging to the same bit of land. Since neither side can rid itself of the other, the only choice is to determine how to live together. They can either keep fighting or find a way to make peace, and my assumption is that common sense will eventually prevail.

But it’s only an assumption. They might conceivably go on fighting forever, or until one side grinds down the other and wins. The balance of power is not equal, but it never has been. History favors first one warring faction then the other.

A further insight is that peace is never a static position that, once achieved, can be taken for granted. It’s part of an ever-changing continuum. Even if and when peace is attained, there needs to be a constant struggle to maintain it.

Within the larger reality of peace or the lack of it, there is our individual life and our responsibility to do the best that we can: to live life in conformity with our vision, to give our children an education that is conducive to that vision, etc. It isn’t necessary, and is not advisable, to wait for geo-political peace in order to live according to our vision of peace.

So, when I look at climate change, it’s this experience that I bring to it. A knowledge that, like the Jewish – Palestinian conflict, it’s a process whose resolution I will not see in my lifetime. I may see an accumulation of changes; some that are negative, maybe devastating; adaptations that bring cause for optimism. But whatever I live to see, it won’t be the end. The only thing that’s irreversible for us, as a species, is human extinction.

If I want humanity to reduce its carbon emissions and to live in greater harmony with nature, I can start by doing so personally, to the extent that individual choices can be made. Much of what we do is governed by large systems that are beyond our control, such as the sources of the energy we use. However other areas, such as diet and the purchase of goods, are subject to personal choice. And usually, what is good and healthy for the individual turns out to be what’s good for humanity and the biosphere.

Much of the discussion on climate change revolves around the psychological conundrum of whether it is advisable to issue dire warnings of the coming apocalypse, or whether this will only lead to defeatism. That’s not for me to say. I’m not in the business of trying to influence anybody; why should anyone listen? So I don’t care; can afford to be honest.

Consideration of the future may invite optimism or pessimism. But whether humanity will eventually prevail does not need to influence our current decisions. We already know enough in order to make informed, healthy choices about how to live, individually and collectively. The closer we align with the objective of reducing our negative impact upon the planet, the greater will be the chances of our survival.

Links of recent days

Protest

Do we really care more about Van Gogh’s sunflowers than real ones? | George Monbiot

Monbiot gives a perspective on the current situation of protest in the UK:

In 2018, Theresa May’s government oversaw the erection of a statue of Millicent Fawcett in Parliament Square, which holds a banner saying “Courage calls to courage everywhere”, because a century is a safe distance from which to celebrate radical action. Since then, the Conservatives have introduced viciously repressive laws to stifle the voice of courage. Between the Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Act that the former home secretary Priti Patel rushed through parliament, and the public order bill over which Cruella Braverman presides, the government is carefully criminalising every effective means of protest in England and Wales, leaving us with nothing but authorised processions conducted in near silence and letters to our MPs, which are universally ignored by both media and legislators.

The public order bill is the kind of legislation you might expect to see in Russia, Iran or Egypt. Illegal protest is defined by the bill as acts causing “serious disruption to two or more individuals, or to an organisation”. Given that the Police Act redefined “serious disruption” to include noise, this means, in effect, all meaningful protest.

For locking or glueing yourself to another protester, or to the railings or any other object, you can be sentenced to 51 weeks in prison – in other words, twice the maximum sentence for common assault. Sitting in the road, or obstructing fracking machinery, pipelines and other oil and gas infrastructure, airports or printing presses (Rupert says thanks) can get you a year. For digging a tunnel as part of a protest, you can be sent down for three years.

Even more sinister are the “serious disruption prevention orders” in the bill. Anyone who has taken part in a protest in England or Wales in the previous five years, whether or not they have been convicted of an offence, can be served with a two-year order forbidding them from attending further protests. Like prisoners on probation, they may be required to report to “a particular person at a particular place at … particular times on particular days”, “to remain at a particular place for particular periods” and to submit to wearing an electronic tag. They may not associate “with particular persons”, enter “particular areas” or use the internet to encourage other people to protest. If you break these terms, you face up to 51 weeks in prison. So much for “civilised” and “democratic”.

https://publications.parliament.uk/pa/bills/cbill/58-03/0116/220116.pdf

Capitalism

Has Liz Truss handed power over to the extreme neoliberal thinktanks? | George Monbiot | The Guardian

This confirms the message of the video I mentioned in my last blog post.

India

India bars Kashmiri journalist Sanna Irshad Mattoo from flying | News | Al Jazeera

India criticised over arbitrary travel bans after photojournalist blocked from Pulitzer trip | India | The Guardian

Why India’s landmark abortion ruling could echo around the world

Usually, if not consistently, India’s supreme court manages to be a point of light.

Diary

I have picked up a slight cold, as often I do when cooler weather sets in. “Cool” may be a bit misleading for folks north of here. We haven’t need to turn on the heating so far, but also haven’t turned on the A/C for a month at least. Since we don’t need either for several months of the year, perhaps our carbon foot print is a bit lower than the results given by those websites that try to estimate one’s carbon emissions. On the other hand, most Europeans don’t use A/C in the summer as we do.

Having a cold has given me the excuse for spending even more time than usual at my desk. I’ve followed all those ActivityPub conversations from the last few days and gotten to thinking that I don’t so much feel at home there, even without actually participating in the chatter. It’s a real “kishkushiada” as they might say in Hebrew (a place of relentless chit-chat). In that sense, my former timeline on Hubzilla was a bit more relaxed. It’s all the threads that drive me crazy: the statuses that begin with “Replying to…” – each of which needs to be expanded in order to find the context. Perhaps I need to do some weeding and follow people who are less chatty. And also spend less time there.

It brings me to the question of whether it’s actually worthwhile to install a personal Fediverse instance again. My current thinking is that it isn’t. My personal website is a better place to invest my efforts. I still have the hope for it to become a “digital garden”, though I’m not confident that I’ve chosen the best medium for it. I dither back and forth on these things.

Fediverse

I am gradually picking up many of the connections I previously had, just because someone ends up boosting posts by one of them, here and there. As a result, my timeline is growing more interesting by the day.

My strategy of interacting very little, posting only sparingly, keeping my follows off-record and, in my bio, discouraging people from following, seems to be working quite well 🙂

I get that Mastohost (which is hosting my new instance) is a poor model for the Fediverse: too much concentration of instances on a single server. Personal instances, such as on Mastohost, is still much better than for everyone to join a few big instances, which then eventually go down, just as the mastodon.technology instance is about to do. The owner/developer of Mastohost has committed not to hosting more than 25% of all Mastodon instances. I think a better plan would be consider not the the total number of instances, but the total number of users. A quarter of all instances already sounds like a large amount, but if those instances are large, it could translate to the majority of users on the Fediverse. It’s also true that lowering the bar (of technical know-how and expense) is what will get more people to run their own instances, which is what the Fediverse needs. Whereas the administrators of large instances can be expected to have greater technical know-how.

The first preference should be to get individuals to run personal instances from home. But the second preference should be to encourage the creation of many small instances. A way to achieve that could be the model of small co-ops renting space on green VPSs. There would be sharing of ownership, administration, costs and maintenance, together with restriction to a handful of users. That way, there is not too great a concentration of instances on one server, and if an administrator quits, the instance can still continue.

Video

We download and stream a lot of video content, but personally I can never watch more than a couple of movies or TV shows per week. Beyond than that just feels like overload. Even if I’m bored I won’t watch more any more. I read, surf the web, listen to podcasts or listen to music. So I haven’t watched anything new in the last few days. I tried watching “The Worst Person in the World”, but it didn’t hold my interest. I watched the latest episode in “The House of Dragon”. But without great enthusiasm.

Music

I am still really enjoying SoundCloud. In Israel/Palestine it isn’t possible to pay for a SoundCloud subscription, which means that much of the mainstream content isn’t available, but, on the other hand, I noticed while in Portugal and Spain that it wasn’t possible to listen to my usual content without taking out a paid subsciption. So this works very well for me, because I practically never listen to mainstream western music, and I’m amazed by the almost infinite supply of free content. I would never be able to discover so much wonderful music without a service like SoundCloud. It’s like entering a secret world with musicians that few people have ever heard of.

Currently listening to the station of Kinan Azmeh, a Syrian musician. Beautiful tracks from musicians from the Middle East and around the world.

Books

I’m reading Ville Triste by Patrick Modiano. I’m reading in French on the Kobo. It’s helpful to be able to click on an unknown word and get the translation. Modiano’s books are fairly short, which also suits me, as I’m a slow reader (even in English). I love Modiano’s prose and the atmosphere that he is able to establish. This book departs a little from the kind of story that he usually tells, but the familiar elements are there. Did he deserve his Nobel? Sure, why not.

Links of the day

The stories that most interested me were:

The revelation of Liz Truss’s influences though I haven’t been able to verify the facts of that story.

Greenwashing a police state: the truth behind Egypt’s Cop27 masquerade

Although the venue is much less important than the success of the meeting.

Pesticide use around world almost doubles since 1990, report finds

It isn’t a pretty picture. Not getting better. The EU is not living up to its commitments to limit dangerous pesticides either.

Saudi Arabia sentences US citizen to 16 years over tweets critical of regime

When you take an average modern nation-state, which is already embarassed and touchy about the exposure of its dirty laundry (see under Assange) and you add to that an autocratic leader who, either for political expediency or due to severe psychological issues, is wary of the least opposition, you get a mixture that guarantees that virtually every citizen lives in fear of criticizing the regime, or maybe even thinking bad thoughts about it.

War and occupation

Jonathan Cook and Noam Chomsky have good pieces comparing western attitudes on the war in Ukraine to wars and occupation in Palestine and Iraq. Predictably, it’s fine to express righteous indignation towards what the Russians are doing in Ukraine but not against the US or Israel.

On one level, it’s a great relief to be in the consensus regarding the Russian invasion, but this should make us feel profoundly uncomfortable if we are not similarly anti-war-&-occupation in other cases too, when we are not within the consensus. Iraq and Palestine are excellent examples.

The mainstream press and public opinion are full of bull. We are blinded by propaganda and unconsciously drawn into hypocritical positions. The only good thing about the Russian war machine is its lack of apology and pretence, its “this is who we are” stance, though the lack of pretence is itself a pretence.

We the people lack sufficient power to stop nations in their tracks when they go on a war footing. If we are lucky, we can vote; we can register our opposition through protest. Or maybe we can grab the kids and go somewhere else – somewhere safe.

We can’t remove ourselves from the equation, however. As much as we try to exclude ourselves, we are responsible. The racism is our racism. The violence is our violence. I am the arms merchant. I am the pirate.

I am also the victim. Empathy and compassion are more appropriate than detachment, cynicism and despair. Looking for ways to help counts for more than being right.

Freedom outside the press

Yesterday I listened to a 90 minute interview of Kim Stanley Robinson by journalist Ezra Klein in his podcast. It’s the first time I’d listened to Klein – I had never even heard of this seasoned American journalist. But the interview was impressive from both sides. Klein, who says that Robinson’s Ministry of the Future was the most important book that he’d read that year managed to ask questions about many of the central features of the novel, and, in response, Robinson spoke about topics like Eco-Marxism, which is an ism that I hadn’t heard of.

I live very much on the periphery of ideologies, though of course the ideas trickle down through alternative social media and even mainstream media. Wikipedia has a comprehensive article on Eco-socialism. In the interview Robinson describes Marx as a good historian but a bad science fiction writer “like all of us” – because it is so difficult to predict the future. Of course, this is a bit ingenuous, because Marx would have been trying not passively to predict but to shape the future. If the analogy doesn’t seem ingenuous to Robinson, it would be because he too is trying to model and to promote scenarios in which we might beat the climate crisis.

It’s interesting that Robinson, in his novel, gave comparatively little space to the role of the news media. Perhaps, as a novelist, he can afford to stand somewhat outside the media and its influences, though of course he needs it as a platform to speak about and sell his books. The podcast was a good example. As a novelist and a science fiction writer (“cli-fi” is another of the terms I have just heard about), Robinson has greater freedom than journalists or even non-fiction writers, to speak about ideas like eco-terrorism, and to assign a role to these in the coming years.

The degree to which journalists enjoy freedom depends upon where they are situated and who they work for. The journalist Jonathan Cook yesterday published a critical article about the Guardian’s George Monbiot. Monbiot is one of the newspaper’s most important voices and he specializes in climate change. Cook challenges him not on climate change but on his lack of interest in the case of Julian Assange.

Assange, I think Cook would agree, is probably the world’s most important/iconic persecuted journalists: a person whom the US government wants incarcerated, if they can’t assassinate him first. The Guardian reports on his case because it has to, but without much enthusiasm, and Monbiot, one of the more radical journalists in the Guardian’s employ, ignores the case. Cook says it’s because Monbiot is an “owned man”, in the pay of the Guardian and the Guardian is, in turn, in the pay of the establishment.

Cook has an even more potent example – the recent series by Al Jazeera on the character assassination of Corbin and the way this was used to promote a more moderate figure like Starmer. He says, justifiably, that the Guardian, together with other British newspapers, have almost totally ignored the story in the attempt to get it squashed. He also asks why it took a Qatari paper to uncover the story in the first place.

I recently subscribed to Jonathan Cook’s Substack account, as well at to the nonpaid part of Glenn Greenwald’s Substack. These are two journalists who decided to leave the pay of mainstream media and to go-it-alone, for similar reasons: they think that in order to do the kind of the journalism they are interested in, they need a greater degree of freedom than is accorded to them in mainstream media. Greenwald even felt obliged to leave the alternative media outfit that he helped found.

Cook, Greenwald and others like them are doing a good job, but we, and even they, still need mainstream media, obviously. They need it to get their stories out, even on a freelance basis. We need it because independent journalists can only cover a smidgeon of stories – those that are of interest to them.

We still need Big Media, just as we need nation-states and all the other apparatus of the establishment, even as we try to change it. But in order to get a fresh and independent perspective, as in the example above, we need to look beyond our country’s mainstream news media. Al Jazeera certainly isn’t free or independent. It’s owned by Qatar, a corrupt, undemocratic oil state. But on some issues, they can talk freely and provide a different perspective. They can give us the dirt on Britain’s Labour Party. If we want to learn about Qatar, we will need to look elsewhere. If it’s Ukraine? Al Jazeera follows pretty much the Western line, as far as I’ve seen, with some editorial exceptions. “Editorial exceptions” we can find even in the Western press, though.

If we want to form a balanced view, it’s crucial for us to look outside the prison of our own cultural perspective and deliberately hunt for different points of view, wherever we can find them.

Robinson, in his novel, does not ignore the influence of social media. His Ministry of the Future even creates a new, non-corporate version of it. He seems to be unaware of already existing phenomena like the Fediverse. Unfortunately, the Fediverse, like mainstream social media, is a mixed bag when it comes to the expression of independent voices: Just as on Twitter or Facebook, the Fediverse has influential people who are in thrall to the established opinions that they have picked up from mainstream media. The dialogue, or lack of it, around Ukraine is a recent example. The war is being followed like a football match, with everyone rooting for the same team. Very few people are actively seeking an end to the war. If they do so, they can, as in one post I saw, face being censured like Pope Francis for piping up “just when Ukraine seems to be doing well.” Western leaders are, in the meantime, happy to see Russia humiliated, while their weapons industries benefit from this new lucrative market.

Accepting that culpability is seldom equal, each party goes into a conflict with its own set of needs. The way out, when there is a mediation process, is not necessarily a compromise. For example if Ukraine is demanding territorial integrity and the ability to make alliances independently of Russia, but Russia wants guarantees that its security needs will be respected and that it will not be encircled by hostile powers, a way can be found to meet both of these needs. I’m just speculating. But the best way to end this is not by penalizing, squashing or obliterating one side while championing the other, even if that’s our fantasy.

Besides being out of step with our times, the war has been a crime against the earth at the most critical time in the history of our civilisation. We have to find a way of stopping it immediately, as well as to discover a formula to prevent future wars like it. We cannot afford to fight on two fronts at this time.

Alchemy

Yesterday evening I finished watching the first season of “The Bear”, which somehow lives up to all the rave reviews of the critics. It does so more on account of its presenting a situation than for its storyline – the plot for all of the first season could be summarized in two or three lines.

The Bear - poster

So we watch it because we find the characters interesting; because as humans we are interested in humans. The show’s humanity is the reason for its success. Nobody gets fired, no matter how outrageous their behavior, because they need each other; they are in it together. How great it would be if this were the case in real life.

There was a teacher at our village school – she taught the children how to make art out of garbage, recycling or reassembling materials that people would dump outside her door- like cardboard or old magazines – or which she would bring from nearby factories. Using the materials at hand was also how she would relate to human beings: it might sometimes be more convenient to replace them but, since anyway we are all flawed things, it is more sensible to learn how to work most effectively with the ones that are here with us.

The same lesson has to be internalized and applied to ourselves, with whom we are also stuck; our tally of fatal flaws, past traumas, weaknesses and fears. It’s a matter of working with all these elements and alchemizing the crap. Like shining a pair of beat-up old shoes; like cobbling together a raft to save us from the flood. Perfection is a bricolage of broken parts. Or, seen differently, imperfection is maya, illusion, and we are already perfect as we are. The effect is always present in the cause, the manifest in the unmanifest.

Mastodon vs the blog

I realized, on looking at the parameters of Mastodon, that even though I own the instance, if I wish to actually preserve what I write, I had better write here in my blog. I knew it, but hadn’t completely internalized that. The capacity of my server space on Mastohost is inevitably limited and anyway, what I write here gets a local copy. So Mastodon will be for links, reblogs or posts that I care less about, inevitably. The question is always “why blog at all” (as opposed to writing a diary)? I suppose because it imposes a certain discipline. It isn’t a question for me regarding the need to write (in itself); that’s just something I feel compelled to do; it’s the way that I process experience.

Walks, thoughts

It being the eve of the Day of Atonement, when the roads become quiet and the sounds of nature come to the forefront, I enjoyed my afternoon walk through the woods and fields, without the distant roar of traffic.

Earlier I had seen part of an episode of The House of the Dragon series and read the final chapter of Kim Stanley Robinson’s The Ministry of the Future . Probably these influences were in the background of my thoughts. The Dragon series is about in-family rivalry over the struggle for the throne and dynastic succession – itself rather a boring plot-concept, but one that is well-rooted in our history and culture. One of the characters, thinking of his legacy, says that history remembers “name” rather than “blood[line]”. The interest in how one will be remembered is, according to vedantic thought, a projection of sat (existence), and the longing to live forever; the instinctive wish for immortality.

The Ministry of the Future also circles around these ideas of mortality and legacy; of the meaning and possible influence of a single human life and of the survival of the species in the time of the climate crisis. Taking the risk of venturing into new-agey territory it celebrates nature and urges human self-restraint in terms of population growth, resource use and territorial expansion.

I already feel like I’ve lived a long life and when I die can hope to be forgotten. But most likely I will go on living for awhile, so I sometimes feel a need to assess the use of my time. Influenced by yoga and eastern philosophies, I have always understood life and human evolution as the striving for the attainment or rediscovery of our true nature. Besides the aspect of sat (existence) mentioned above, this is said to include also chit (consciousness) and ananda (bliss, or joy). We have a voracious interest in acquiring knowledge and experience on account of sat and chit, and a hunger for pleasure on account of ananda. All three of these basic instincts are infinitely insatiable. So we want to live forever, accrue knowledge, experience, money, material goods and sensual gratification, while fearing suffering and our mortality.

Indian philosophy says that the only way to “quench / to extinguish” these drives is through inner/integral (not solely intellectual) understanding of our true nature as already immortal, omniscient and joyful. Thereupon, according to both Buddhism and yoga, we attain nirvana (which means literally the action of extinguishing).

So how to do that? Not, I think, by denial of these instincts (asceticism). That has no meaning. Not by diminishment. As we approach death, we experience the extenuation of the physical and mental faculties. This morning I read that dear old Shraddhavan recently died at the age of 80. This English woman was one of the founders of Auroville and for years and years held study circles on the meaning of Sri Aurobindo’s poem Savitri. The obituary said that since the end of last year, she began gradually to “fade away”. Whether or not that is true I do not know, but my hope is that this was just how it looked. My hope is that, rather than diminishing, we grow, i.e. expand into the cosmic, the universal, the infinite. From the outside, this can also look as if we are “fading” because the attention has shifted.

In the final pages of The Ministry of the Future Robinson mentions the statue of Ganymede and the eagle on the lake shore of Zürich. His character surmises that the bird may really be the phoenix, which constantly rises from its own ashes, and that the bronze human statue is making an offering of himself, and all that is, to it, for the sake of immortality.

Ganymede statue, Zurich
Figure 1: Ganymede statue, Zürich (Wikipedia)

At the end of the day, we die. The atoms that made up our bodies, our brains and the wisps of consciousness that gave meaning to our lives, seep out into the ether. They are carried on the cosmic wind, to recombine and make new bodies, new souls. We may hope to leave a legacy, to live on through our children or our good deeds. But the fear of death and the longing to continue at all costs, even with senses and bodily functions impaired, seem to express doubt.

If we want to die instead with an intimation of our immortality, with awareness of the universal, and with the feeling of deep joy that are our birthright and inner-nature, we need to consecrate our lives to expansion, rather than fear extinction. But why wait for death, if we can seek to do this already? That’s the purport of vedantic philosophy.

This still does not really answer the how. On my walk, perhaps with Robinson’s Ministry resonating still in me, I began to think that one approach could be to live more closely to nature. From the perspective of climate action, this is a little counter-intuitive. The best arrangement for humans is to inhabit small to mid-sized communities or towns that provide most of their needs within walking or cycling distance, without the need to commute or import. Ideally goods would be shared rather than owned. If we are fortunate to live in a place where heating and air-conditioning are less necessary, the carbon footprint can be further reduced.

But there are communities that fulfill these requirements while still being close to nature. That’s why I looked again at Auroville (and discovered Shradhavan’s death). From their newsletter I also learned about the latest developments regarding the internal strife that they have been experiencing within the last year. But like the Aurovillians themselves, I believe they will eventually overcome those difficulties, since their lives there really depend upon that.

As human beings in our world community, the lives of our children and grandchildren depend upon overcoming the enormous challenges of our era. It’s the dire necessity of doing so that underlies the optimism in Ministry of the Future. As Robinson says, “we will cope no matter how stupid things get” and “the only catastrophe that can’t be undone is extinction.”

I would add that something of ourselves survives even extinction. Matter, energy and consciousness are never truly destroyed – they simply recycle to make something new. Seeing this can lead to an understanding of the inseparable interdependence between ourselves and our biosphere. If as a species, we begin to get, to really grok, this interdependence, we will surely take all the steps that are necessary to safeguard our planetary home.