What does the future hold?
“Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing.” ― Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief
I’ve been doing my bit to understand what the future holds.
The trouble is, being a hope-free sort of guy (...hopeless at times), it’s hard to see matters through any other lens than one replete with endings.
Does it matter?
What?
My mood?
No; and certainly not when everyone else or the majority thereof (esp. those in the BAU circle of groupthink) believe we can save our souls and everything else imprinted with the whorl of our exploitative desires.
I’d go further and say: if you ‘dare’ to question the status quo then it appears that you fall squarely into the naysayer camp that or you can’t see the hopeful sunlit uplands that are just waiting to emerge if only we could get our shit together.
As I sit here typing these words a day ahead of publishing this post, it’s nearly 30C outside, with nary a whiff of cool air and having just returned from buying four stamps, which is the equivalent of remortgaging our house, I’m hot. Very hot. The poor dogs have taken shelter from the heat, as close to my little fan as they dare and I’m doing my best to cool off. I don’t know about you but this doesn’t feel normal – the oppressive heat that is – and I fear it’s only going to get worse.
I suspect by now, if you’ve followed my writing, you’re bored of this prolix and repetitive message. That’s fine. I know I need to traverse another paradigmatic, dark night of the soul arena but right now, I’m drawn to try to think through where we’re headed, which is code for saying: I wonder how long we’ve really got?
Decades, centuries or 10,000 years?
It’s hard to know and there doesn’t appear to be a consensus. If you asked me how long we’ve got before we’re wiped out, I probably wouldn’t go much further than 2100 and even if I’m supremely wrong, ipso facto, the world will look and feel very different over the course of the next 76 years.
It’s at this point that my mind wanders off-piste and I think about the film The Day the Earth Stood Still. Here is part of the script from the original 1951 film:
BARNHARDT
(smiling, but a little
concerned)
I'm afraid I can't offer you any
real protection. I have no influence
in cases of inter-planetary
conspiracy.
KLAATU
I'm sure I'll be quite safe until
the meeting.
BARNHARDT
(he suddenly pauses,
thoughtfully)
One thing, Mr. Klaatu. Suppose this
group should reject your proposals.
What is the alternative?
KLAATU
(with a sense of quiet,
inescapable power)
I'm afraid you have no alternative.
In such, a case the planet Earth
would have to be--
(he looks for the
right word)
--eliminated.
The implications of this statement leave Barnhardt speechless, his keen mind reeling. (Emphasis added.)
The reason I find myself returning to this film is I still can’t believe we’ve not been visited by the equivalent of Gort (the robot) and Klaatu to impart a similar wake-up call. And then again, I wonder if we would heed the message or instead ignore it or bury it in the hope that we can persuade said alien invaders that simply because we screwed up Earth and might be able to escape its clutches when the faecal matter hits the proverbial fan, doesn’t mean we’re not hell-bent on doing it whenever and wherever we go in the Universe.
Even if this little vignette is far-fetched, I have this nagging suspicion that the Rough Gods of Chance aren’t going to let us escape the destructive seeds we’ve sown over these past millennia, and the rest as they say will be…history.
Of course, I make it sound as if the climate emergency is the only thing to occupy the future. What about growth, prosperity, the eradication of social inequality, all those green jobs, rewilding, employee-owned companies, work that matters and living up to our god given potential? I should have said and included: what will happen when we’re all artificially intelligenced? That’s not a typo. It’s quite deliberate. I see a world, not that far into the future, where we become so reliant on AI that we stop thinking for ourselves and wisdom, grace and humility are no longer valued. We’ll end up skimming the surface of life or worse still, we’ll end up in a trance by not having to think and do anything of real importance.
And then you wonder about the elimination of old age, and the possibility that we won’t be able to die, and the world begins to resemble a very different place.
All this is conjecture absent a crystal ball but one thing I can be certain of is that the current trajectory of demise is baked in and no amount of reverse engineering is going to ameliorate lest still arrest where we’re headed.
If that’s right, I still don’t understand why there isn’t greater (or any) pushback against the dominant narrative. I know why. Because in England, at least, if you dare to put your head above the parapet, you’re going to get is shot off by dint of the anti-protest legislation that has been snuck in by the back door. God forbid we might interrupt someone’s day to raise awareness of the impending catastrophe.
I’m beginning to think that all this spilled ink is a complete waste of time. I’d be better off writing about personal success, making great gobs of money and being the best version of whoever the hell fills up your rearview mirror.
Dream on.
I’m the anti-christ when it comes to those subjects or at least the antidote to the hubris that makes me more than a little nauseous.
Anyhow, it’s that time again.
Eyes down, roll the dice and see where the hand of fate lands today.
Much love, Julian
Photo by Susan Wilkinson on Unsplash