Amerika

For all of our vast complexities, we are under the skin simple little monkeys.

Our official version of events is that we are educated, informed, and have transcended animal status; that we make deliberate, conscious, free-will-style decisions.

In my experience over some decades of observing humanity, the opposite is true. We act like monkeys and then use our big brains to justify it.

• Casual sex. We hump like reckless dogs, then try to claim we were indulging in “freedom” or “feminist liberation” or other claptrap. The real answer is that like proles we couldn’t wait to gratify our desires, so settled for what was available instead of what was sensible. And then we insist there were no consequences, even though the emotional consequences to both partners are obvious.
• Conspicuous consumption and altruism. We like to think we are above one-upmanship and other violent monkey emotions. But we’re not. We have to prove we’re richer than the other monkey and failing that, that we’re better than them. Everyone needs someone to feel better than, and the best way is to show that you’re more of a Donald Trump or Mother Theresa than they are.
• Rules. If we were truly above the monkey zone, we’d make rules for everyone. Instead we make them for other people, and plan to evade them. This is why hypocrisy is a continual problem. This isn’t to say that people in authority shouldn’t have special privileges — they probably should. It’s saying that when the average person “likes” the idea of a rule, they’re already planning to break it for their own advantage.
• Friends and love. You would think friendship and love would be holy and sacred, like religion. But much like religion, we use our clever big monkey brains to use them as bargaining chips. We do this so we can have more power, even though somewhere in our big brains, we know that “power” vanishes the instant we do, and may have been an illusion all along.
• Carelessness. We talk a good game about being responsible, but our highways are still lined with litter. Every public bathroom has at least one toilet overflowing with waste and cigarette butts, and our trash cans overpile with stuff that could be recycled. Car crashes happen most frequently because people are distracted. Do we really give a damn?

These are the hard truths of humanity, and our failings should not be seen as reason to think negatively about ourselves. Instead, we should use these examples to see that we invent a story for ourselves, and then try to live up to it — and that is not entirely a bad thing.

In the realm of postmodern thought, we talk about how any group or individual creates a “narrative” or story about themselves: who they are, how they were created, what they want to be and what they do not want to be. Hatred and love are joined in this narrative in opposite pairs — who we are now versus where we came from, what we want to be versus what we do not want.

Since 1789, we have been in the grips of the liberal narrative, as we attempt to explain, justify and explore the notion of a world without fixed centers like Gods, Kings and Traditions.

We have replaced those centers with as many central points as there are individuals, by putting the individual out there as an autonomous decision-maker, or an equal rational being.

Since we’ve made this assumption without ever really proving it, we’re on the defensive. This means that part of our narrative, that “what we do not want to be” part, includes the opposites of total individual equality and total individual lack of oversight, or “freedom.”

We are aligned against oppressors, Kings, fascists, Nazis, leaders, religions and anyone else who demands absolute standards. Of course, that alignment is in itself an absolute far greater than any of those offered, but never mind.

Our narrative is that we the granular are pulling down any centralized power, and anyone who rises above the herd, and as a result achieving total equality and freedom.

This explains why liberal democracy periodically rears the ugly head it hides underneath pleasant intentions: the constant lynch mob taking from the productive and giving to the idiots.

I suggest that instead we create a narrative of an organic society, where every thing and person has its place, and together they work for a positive end for everyone (not just each for herself). Not only would it free us from being constantly defensive, but it would free us from our selves.