by David Brin
Is this really new? Didn’t some past myths and legends carry threads of rebellion?
Perhaps a thread or two. Odysseus was a rule breaker, though the penalties were dire. His family suffered, and all who followed him died. Moreover, he never defeated the gods who inflicted such capricious punishments. Likewise, Romeo and Juliet could hardly be thought of as prevailing, the way so many modern rebels are depicted overcoming the social barriers to love. The protagonists of Candide, Pride and Prejudice, and The Iliad all had spells of railing against the constraints surrounding them—and then went about living according to the fixed overall conventions of their time. Even Swift’s wonderful and prescient Gulliver battled an unjust social order through parable. His triumph was spiritual and metaphorical.
Modern audiences want something more explicit and decisive, whether the hero loathes all vile authorities (Catch 22), or happens to be a cop whose bosses are corrupt or inept (Dirty Harry). It isn’t that there must always be a happy ending. The reader or viewer can accept occasional tragedy, even the death of a protagonist, just so long as some oppressor is perceived as losing.
Nor is this unswerving message restricted to popular movies and novels. Radicalized professors of both the left and right recite the same themes by rote on any North American university campus, often denouncing in righteous tones the very institutions that give them subsidized and tenured perches from which to hurl scathing critiques. While specific intellectual arguments may range from cogent to specious across the political spectrum, what so many strikingly share is contempt toward some “establishment,” an indignant scorn that they strive to teach their students.
We will postpone trying to analyze the whys and wherefores of this exceptional phenomenon, perhaps for another book. For now, it is fascinating just to concentrate on results. So caught up are we in the details of our individual opinions that we may completely miss this common current running beneath our most vociferous political arguments, a theme that unites many of those who see each other as political foes.
In the United States, a typical voter who is politically right of center worries about accumulations of undue power by officious academics or faceless government bureaucrats.
From the viewpoint of voters who are somewhat left of center, the transfixing danger is accumulations of undue power by conniving aristocrats and faceless corporations.
When expressed this way, it seems rather sad that both sides scarcely recognize a deep-seated political reflex they share—especially since both parties have legitimate points! Governments and aristocrats have long track records of oppressing people. Both merit close scrutiny by corps of eager critics.
It is important to note here that the details often do not count. What matters is that millions of people feel a passion to be different. To poke at dangerous secrets and experience heroic pride when they uncover some mistake, or thwart a nefarious scheme. This personality trait is diffusive, meaning that those who are most truly independent of mind will inevitably grow uncomfortable as part of a herd. Needing individuality, they often strike forth in some unusual direction, seeking to distinguish themselves from the despised mob.
The fact that people have contempt for conformity does not mean that they don’t conform! Any more than having a declared faith in individualism will automatically make someone unique. You have only to walk on any university campus in Europe or America to see that members of the most rebellious element, the surly “bohemian” crowd, nearly all dress with incredible similarity, expressing their scorn for “mundanes” in terms that hardly vary from mouth to mouth, or campus to campus. The otaku social rebels in Japan also exhibit this trait. As commentator Richard Raynor put it, “Most teenagers are innate conservatives. Their rebellion happens, if at all, by the numbers, whether numbers are written by Elvis Presley, Jim Morrison, or Snoop Doggy Dog.” The same holds true for many other modern tribes. While the ideology is individualistic, there remains a deep-seated human drive to be part of a group. To be different—just like your friends.
And yet, the ideology is powerful. If just 1 percent of North Americans eventually succeed in achieving some degree of bold difference in their lives, that results in three million true individuals, whose genuine uniqueness will change their communities, as well as civilization.
In other words, the aforementioned propaganda campaign could not have been better designed to spawn several generations of frenetic T-cells, rebounding all over the place, zealously pouncing on every error they can find, both real and imagined. In many cases, they do it for their own egos’ sake. And yet the effect, in the long run, is to supply civilization with copious amounts of wildly diverse criticism—the only known antidote to error.
The right to be heard does not automatically include the right to be taken seriously.
HUBERT H. HUMPHREY
DUDGEON ADDICTION
It seems that the Pleasure Principle is back from the dead. This once discarded theory held that humans and animals behave in certain ways because those actions feel good. For much of the twentieth century, the notion was abandoned in favor of behaviorist concepts propagated by B. F. Skinner, or more recent cognitive theories. Only now are neurochemists finding that a great many of the things we do are reinforced by the release of psychoactive molecules in our brains. Many of life’s most wholesome joys, such as listening to music, or watching a sunset, or provoking a baby’s wide smile, actually trigger waves of endorphins, enkephalins and other substances, which are responsible for the warm feelings that come over us when we experience our favorite things. There is no shame in discovering this about ourselves. Knowledge about detailed processes does not diminish any of the joy, nor make it less genuinely good. It just means that we are starting to understand how we remain addicted to the best parts of life.
This discovery also sheds new light on the whole issue of illegal or abused drugs, many of which are crude substitutes for those very same natural pleasure chemicals. In other words, people who use heroin may do so because they never learned better ways to activate the same molecular receptors that spark and flare inside the rest of us during expressions of love, or exercise, or the gratifying employment of a skill.
There is a third way to excite these pleasure centers. Humans can learn to trigger the release of endorphins and other natural chemicals in the body by voluntarily entering certain mental states. For instance, ever since the days of William James, it has been known that deep religious faith can have similar physiological effects on believers, across nearly all boundaries of doctrine and creed. Studies of experts in the arts of meditation have shed light on the agreeably detached conditions that they enter by volition, enabling some aficionados to develop shortcuts using computerized biofeedback equipment, training themselves to achieve pleasurable levels of (non)consciousness almost at will.
One particular mental state seems quite effective at enabling individuals to self-administer these psychotropic chemicals on a massive scale. Self-righteousness is an especially heady condition that all of us have experienced at one time or another. Those who are honest will admit there is something sickly-sweet and alluring about knowing you are right, while others are terribly wrong. However many unpleasant or anxious feelings may accompany a crisis, righteousness is one side effect that can imbue a person with sensations of romantic virtue, and the satisfaction of feeling like a martyr, or the lonely champion of a pious cause.
For some, this mental state is not rare or occasional. It can be as addictive as any other reinforced pleasure. Look in the eyes of the most self-righteous people you know, even those whose opinions you share. Whether or not they are achieving success in their crusades, one trait that many exhibit is an outward impression of being “on a high.” Under these conditions, it is hard for people to notice their own mistakes, or even towering hypocrisies—such as when the livid radio personality G. Gordon Liddy indignantly vowed to shoot down any conjectural federal agent who might come breaking into his office ... despite the fact that Liddy�
��s own sole claim to notoriety on this planet was for having been caught as an incompetent burglar on behalf of a corrupt federal president. Liddy’s irate tunnel vision is hardly exceptional. It illustrates an addictive trait that may be more common in our society than dependencies on alcohol, drugs, or tobacco.
It may seem twisted, but amid their struggles, many self-righteousness junkies seem to be having one helluva good time.
Now please don’t get me wrong. I am hardly one to get judgmental toward self-righteous people! Over the course of more than forty years, I have wallowed in the same state all too often. My aim here is not to cast stones, but to discuss one of the more vivid aspects of human nature—one that has beneficial uses, from time to time. Indeed, like so much of biochemistry, the effects can be positive, when applied in moderation.
Take the “social T-cells” I described a little while ago. For many iconoclasts, the adversarial rough and tumble of their creative or error-seeking quest can get rather sticky, or even dangerous. After all, there are mighty forces out there who hate having their mistakes exposed. These forces often lash out, despite all the rules that are supposed to protect freedom of speech. For criticism to penetrate every crevice and capillary of society, our lonely T-cells often need some extra incentive to keep on fighting for the truth (as they perceive it). Beyond possible career or monetary compensations, they may also require the pleasure-reward of sanctimony.
A certain amount of self-righteousness can put fire in your belly, making you more willing to face great odds to make your point, or even tilt at windmills. When this formidable mental state mixes with an ideology of rebellious individualism, the result can be a potent cocktail, fortifying some lonesome dissenter to stand on street corners shouting, “Wake up!” to a distracted or indifferent society.
And yet, the amount of heat in a person’s voice bears almost no relation to how right they are. The two factors seem almost orthogonal, unrelated to each other. Passion may provide force and motivation, but truth can only be tested in the open marketplace of debate, experimentation, and the relentless experience of daily life.
In fact, despite positive uses, who can deny that self-righteousness has drawbacks, pushing nonconformists into states of bitter rage, alienated from everyone around them, rancorously paranoid and derisive of the very society that trained them to be proud individuals? (Sometimes such persons mask their egomania behind a shield of indignant “professionalism.”)
Biologists and physicians have a name for what happens when white blood cells scorn the organism they were made to serve, tearing loose the bonds of commensal life, attacking healthy tissue and bringing on a general collapse. The condition is a type of cancer called leukemia.
When disdain of authority becomes bilious hatred, the result may be not a helpful dissenter but a calamitous traitor, such as Timothy McVeigh. In his published letters, the convicted Oklahoma City bomber repeatedly exulted in his own “exceptional” intelligence and insight, expressing not only wrath over purported government schemes but also delighted pride in being among the only ones to “see through their propaganda and lies.” McVeigh’s need to feel special was so profound, and his contempt for his fellow citizens so deep, that he cut himself off from every bit of feedback or criticism—anything that might have helped him notice the horrible error sloshing through his endorphin-soaked brain—the error of rationalizing a foul criminal act, the murder of 162 innocent neighbors and children.
What makes this so pathetic is that McVeigh’s own nature and personality disproved his paranoic fantasy, since his special illness was a deeply American product of the very culture that he despised as a “regimented” fascist dictatorship. In fact, we might ponder how lucky we have been so far, having trained several hundred thousand young men to become expert with explosives (in the military), after having weaned them on suspicion-of-authority messages. Given such a volatile blend, are we blessed that Oklahoma City happened just once, and that most angry rebels express their rage as they should, through words?
That fact may offer solace while we endure the ever-growing murmur of sullen suspicion that often seems to drown all common sense. Especially in the United States, where a poll taken by the Scripps-Howard News Service in July 1997 found that a majority of citizens affirmed some belief in government conspiracy theories. For instance, a third of those surveyed gave credence to the notion that FBI agents “deliberately” set fire to women and children, in broad daylight and in front of news cameras, at the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas, in 1992. A whopping 51 percent of respondents called it either “very likely” or “somewhat likely” that federal officials were directly responsible for the assassination of President Kennedy.
Even retractions do little good, such as when the man who first accused the U.S. Navy of shooting down TWA flight 800 told CNN that he had fabricated the story “to give the government a black eye by any means that looked opportune.... TWA 800 was just a vehicle for my larger agenda.” Ian Goddard, who identified himself as a libertarian and investigator into various purported government plots, apologized not only to the families of the victims but also “to those who believed in my efforts who are now upset with me for my change of mind.”
“Paranoia is killing this country,” commented Curtis Cans, executive director of the Washington-based Committee for the Study of the American Electorate, in response to the Scripps-Howard survey. Oklahoma Governor Frank Keating echoed that sentiment. “Maybe people are watching too many Oliver Stone movies. What we see on movie screens these days demonizes government agencies and public officials. Free institutions cannot survive this kind of cynicism.”
Are Gans and Keating right? Does a plague of excessive, indignant imagination threaten the very life of the republic?
I don’t think so. Not yet. Surveys tend to overstate their case, since modern folks will often express interest in any intriguing idea or notion, trying it on for size. Hence other surveys reveal substantial overall confidence in our shared institutions.
Anyway, the benefits gained from suspicion of authority outweigh the disadvantages. Our ongoing freedom and economic success testify to the effectiveness of error-correcting systems, imperfect as they are. So does the fact that species extinction rates in North America, though still excessive, have declined to among the lowest on any continent.
At least now there is a useful model for the “militia phenomenon” currently infesting the United States. After raising several generations to enjoy the role of defiant dissenters, it can hardly be surprising that some “T-cells” fixate on bizarre scenarios and conspiracy theories—everything from government hangars filled with captured aliens, to melaninist or neo-Nazi styles of racism, to swarms of black U.N. helicopters bent on conquering the world. In 1997 alone, the number of Web sites devoted to hate groups and related subjects increased 300%.
Under these conditions, it’s not hard to see how some of the most imaginative and self-righteous might actually convince themselves that they live under tyranny, instead of the mildest and most tolerant continental-scale culture the world has ever seen. One that is so patient and broad-minded that it will forbear any kind of vituperative speech, protecting the privilege of millions to be wrong so that we may all benefit from a few who turn out to be right.
The best argument for open-book management is this: the more educated your work force is about the company, the more capable it is of doing the little things required to get better.... The odd part is that nobody hates surprises more than the manipulative control freaks who practice old-fashioned, secretive, need-to-know management. [Yet] that way of operation virtually guarantees a steady stream of surprises, because people don’t have the tools they need to forecast and project, to live up to their commitments.
JACK STACK, THE GREAT GAME OF BUSINESS
A CIVILIZATION IMMUNE TO ERROR?
All this talk about immune systems combating error may strike some readers as too optimistic, given how many grievous faults plague us, from law
and policy to our chaotic personal lives. As a youth in 1968, I learned how deeply a nation can wound itself with war, assassination, injustice, and hate. Nowadays, like my neighbors, I often mutter during the television news, despairing over the obstinacy of political leaders who cling to rigid orthodoxies instead of applying pragmatic solutions to problems ranging from drugs to gun control. Yet who can look back at the litany of awful mistakes that regularly toppled smug empires and proud cities without recognizing that something has changed? At last rulers must undertake most of their decisions in the open, subject to observation and comment by a broad spectrum of unabashed citizens. Among businesses, a new trend toward internal trust and openness among executives and employees has begun bearing fruit for those companies brave enough to resist age-old bullying habits of hierarchy and domination.
This new “immune system” may be imperfect (the animal kingdom had eons to perfect the biological counterpart) but at least we started noticing some dangers, like ozone depletion and species extinction, long before the trends grew too severe. Passionate advocates and antagonists swarm around each problem, hollering so loud we can’t ignore the peril, even when we squeeze our eyes shut and hope it goes away.
The trend is especially important given society’s growing complexity and the rapid pace of change. Science and technology must progress swiftly, in order to offer any hope of solving the world’s problems. Still, with every advance, new questions and dilemmas burst forth to confound even a culture filled with large numbers of college graduates. As the recent furor over potential human cloning showed, it takes time for people to listen, argue among themselves, overreact, learn some more, and finally start making the sort of practical, as-we-go decisions that may (with luck) take us into the twenty-first century in fairly decent shape.
