Nothing like an Old Text Book

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This is one book I’ll cherish with the best of them. It was the direction vector for the design thinking I had evolved a few years ago, when doing general design calculations, sizing and performance calculations for general aviation concepts.

A very personal dream I have had is to make an airplane of my own, designed from scratch and built to seat only me. It was the sort of dream any self-righteous 11 year old would encourage, and I was more than happy to carry on this dream several years into my adult life. The surfeit of involvements and life events in general get one sidetracked about one’s projects and old ideas, and sometimes, it pays to revive them, just to experience what it should be to examine lofty dreams again. And many times, such examination leads to veritable gains, sometimes with a new direction that arises from a critical self-examination. As a journalist friend of mine put it wittily (on the occasion of my college gang and I sharing pictures of sundry quizzes we took part in and conducted then), “…as if we aren’t embarrassed enough about our pasts!”

When I think of what kind of project this would be, in terms of the scale, complexity or the cost of it, I can comfortably say that I have neither the time, nor the money to execute it, regardless of whether I have the will or the talent. However, that doesn’t mean that the problem is not worth examining, especially if I have a beloved text book right by me, to help me out.

Violence and Human Society

It is instructive to think of human society these days to be evolving to a period of greater collusion, with tendencies towards violence distributed evenly in societies, rather than grouped into certain conflit zones. This defies the data we have available presently on areas like the West Bank, The Gaza Strip, Iraq and Afghanistan/Pakistan, but we have to remember that many conflicts that brew in other parts of the world are not documented or given enough attention. My qualms chiefly center around Tibet and the state-sponsored violence there, the Naxal problem in eastern and Central India, the much-discussed conflict in Northern Srilanka, the unrest in Somalia, the genocides in Darfur and other conflicts that we probably don’t know about in detail, in different parts of the world.

I saw a very interesting perspective in Steven Pinker’s talk on TED here. The talk is embedded below for ease, but there is also a discussion on TED that’s worth following on this page. 

The talk is instructive because it defies a widely held perception that we are living in a society of increasing violence and unrest. In Indian myth, there is reference to a mythical golden age, the Satya Yuga or the Krta Yuga. This age, as fictitious as it may be, probably points to certain social trends that can help one examine one view of how people can live in harmony. In a stroke of romantic imaginativeness, the Satya Yuga is purported by the ancients to be the longest, lasting 1,700,000 years. The time scales in Indian mythology are staggering, with Brahma the creator having a lifespan of 77 trillion years. Such time scales are probably what prompted Carl Sagan to view them as an exalted and perhaps wondrous, somewhat realistic view of the cosmos (compared to the widely held Western view of a 5000 year old universe). The subsequent ages – Treta, Dwapara and Kali represent periods of increasing moral decay, leading to greater materialism, and perhaps greater violence. Modern science and an examination of human evolution tells us a different story – that human evolution hit a sort of tipping point 2 million years ago, when Homo erectus started transforming into Homo sapiens. It is scientifically plausible that the development of civilization, education and the slow erasure of instinctive tendencies have permitted greater cooperation between tribes and groups that previously would be at odds or would have violent conflicts, but have education and technology taught us anything new? Has technology made killing easier or has it, on the contrary, ended up protecting us from the violence within us better?

What is plausible, given evidence that the Puranic texts with vivid characterizations of the four different Yugas originated around the Christian Era, is that historians and scholars of Ancient India, given their hopeful view of their cultural lineage, ascribed a certain perfection to their ancestors’ existence, in order that this may serve as a paragon of human society. What helped were some of the morals attributed to classical Indian religions – the Shaiva and Vaishnava sects both stressed on a set of human values that could have been developed in classical Indian society, possibly also with influences from kingdoms outside of the boundaries of what is now India. How does such a situation influence the development of non-violent thought in religion and how does this elevate the non-violent to a place of eminence in society? Does such social transformation hold the key to understanding how violent trends may have reduced in society today? I have to ask the bleaker question here also – whether human society has really progressed to a period of less violence or whether violence is reported less often or felt on a less personal level in the past, over the past few decades? Could a portion of this be because of the spread of technology that makes killing easy?

There are other cultures whose studies are instructive when discussion trends of violence. The Norse and the Egyptians seem to be polar opposites – with the Norsemen known for their stereotypic brashness, revelry and bacchanalian behaviour, and the Egyptians known to be analytical, worker ants whose architectural splendour far outlasted the civilization itself. However, closer studies of the Egyptians reveal the ruthlessness with which the Pharaoh and his Viziers exercised their power, and the plight of common people in Ancient Egypt, especially the slaves. Indeed, several Biblical tales are irrevocably tied to this hegemony. A study of the Ancient Norsemen reveals a culture of sophistication and is quite instructive about their less violent side – where metallurgy and filigree art flourished, explorers were welcomed and honoured and pioneers ruled the roost. There is probably an intellectual dynamism to Norse culture that is not well documented enough in the stereotypes.

It is now a well known thing that the Ancient Mayans, a culture of mathematicians, builders and conquerors were also a culture dictated by sacrifice, notably human sacrifice. It is also being uncovered that the Dark ages, known for the widespread plague outbreaks, cruelty, the fall of civilization in Europe, political and social unrest, etc., was a period of social, political and economic development in the Islamic Caliphate, a period where civil society developed in the Middle East from the fruits of the Islamic conquest of parts of India and Europe. Europe’s Dark ages have for many decades mystified historians, but recent studies have also revealed the development of creative thought alongside witch hunts and burnings at the stake. The glory of the Islamic Caliphate probably came at the expense of 80 million Indians who were taken prisoner, massacred or systematically killed off by various emperors as part of their Islamic duties. This could arguably be one of the least discussed, least well known genocides in human history. Would this genocide have been possible without technological advancement that made better weapons possible in the middle east? Are ideas in the end stronger technological tools than implements of destruction?

It can be held that the Renaissance perhaps harboured the beginning of rational thought, but ironically (given the violence in India these days from terrorists and Naxals alike), one has to look back to Ancient India to understand the roots of Ahimsa. The Jain religion and its Thirthankaras pioneered non-violent thought in a religion and aspects of the Buddhist faith helped alleviate social violence and violence with social sanction. These ideas were eventually distilled into interpretations of the Hindu faiths, especially Srivaishnavism. The dawn of the Victorian Era and the conquest of India by Britain probably helped revive these ideas amongst groups such as the Theosophists (as evidenced from Helena Blavatsky and her obsession with Zen/Dhyan Buddhism). Gandhi probably gave a credible face to non-violence as a method of social uprising and protest against colonialism, racism and injustice.  If Steven Pinker is indeed right, that we are going through periods of reducing violence in society, would Gandhi figure as one of the key catalysts for non-violent behaviour? Contrarily, are we merely deluding ourselves by thinking that atrocities such as the ones committed in the World Wars and in the decades after are blips on an otherwise peaceful social landscape of modern society? Or is it the case that the non-violent protests by Gandhi were just a much talked about phenomenon – while events such as the genocides of the partition are ignored?

Trauma, Survival and Thought

Tests of faith usually are tests of faith in oneself. Sometimes, though, tests of faith can become tests of the truth. How strongly are we willing to stand by the truth in trying times? Does standing by the truth include a constant examination of aspects of the self, so as to absolve oneself of all malcontent and wrong doing? Does it also include a constant questioning the other aspects of oneself so as to admit one’s foibles?

Where do the two intersect? Is there a grey area? There perhaps is.

It is common knowledge that there are aspects of intense events that are traumatizing, that are not well known to the person who is the victim of that incident. When the victim has to face a personal tragedy or an attack on his life, do these lost memories become fabricated memories? How much can we trust our own version of the events at, for example, a crime scene? How do people explain complex sequences of events to themselves? Do they consider the other party, that potentially brought them harm, as a reasonable actor? Does attributing such character to those that harm you bring you a level of comfort in their humanity, while making their actions seem trivial in comparison to the ways in which they could have acted? Is this transactional analysis the basis of Ahimsa and non-violent thought? When Mohandas Gandhi was struck down by an officer in South Africa even as he protested inequality in marriage rights for non-whites, was he comforted by this thought, that his non-violence rendered him superior, in some way? What was the basis of this thinking? Was it religious? Was it something less irrational? Were it religious, it could probably be considered as a case of irrational thinking being used to bolster one’s state of mental soundness. This state of mental fortitude is accomplished not by a basic physical security and strengthened by repeated exposure to pleasure,  but by an affirmation inside one’s mind, that an idea can be responsible for one’s well being. Effectively, one’s hierarchy of needs stands reversed in this situation, with personal safety and security becoming less important than the affirmation inside oneself that one is at par with, or holds a higher ground morally than, the other party.

It is probably very interesting to examine how people can move from a traumatizing experience to relative calm. There are probably multiple phases in this – starting with the shock of the trauma, acting reflexively to the situation as it demands of him/her, building a sequence of events, building paths of reasoning from these event sequences, rationalizing one’s misdeeds/mishandling of the situation, and then determining a version of the truth. Subsequent to this comes the inordinate worry, perhaps of any fall out from the event. The human animal has to, in the course of the first three of these activities, have a sense of belief in itself that caters to its survival. This reason can be born of religion, science, deduction, strategy or any tool it has at its behest.

How does one reconcile uncertainties arising from the confusion that a grey area creates in one’s mind? Is irrationality a solution? Does faith in a higher power, a judge superior to the human judges, have its roots in the social infrastructure that inures in individuals a sense of right and wrong, or is faith born of a deeper, more philosophical view of an all-controlling force? Does the former merge into the latter after manifesting in our minds as multiple other ideas? Whatever the method, it seems apparent that traumatizing situations surely test the notions we have developed about religion and reason. Habits developed in the individual, sometimes by practicing a religion or a system of belief come to the fore, and reasoning that leads from one activity to another sometimes also follows the irrational route. Strange as it may seem, irrational thinking may actually help retain certain information that is specific and factual about a situation that caused trauma to the victim.

It is possible that the human brain has to depend on some form of self-centred survival strategy when in times of trouble, and that this could defy all rational thinking, because it is the result of a neural net which is self-aware.

If one’s behaviour in an emergency defies logic at times, it is possible also, that one’s worries fall far short of the possibilities one may see when using reason and probability, while also being biased towards a few types of worry. The incident that leads to the trauma tends to condition the mind so that certain possibilities seem more possible to the mind than certain others, and these distinct possibilities become a source of worry.

What is the solution to worry after a trauma? Reliving the event may be sufficient for events that have brought fear but not harm to the individual. However, in cases where the victim has acutely suffered, there are probably multiple ways to get them to reconcile the damage and come away with a positive frame of mind. It helps to think that justice will be done, or that a solution will be provided, but for many situations in life, there seem to be no way out for victims of trauma, unless they reason out the event and develop the fortitude to divert their minds to something positive in their immediate future. This may be the antidote to bring their confidence to a level where they can fend for themselves again.

The Cynic and the Emasculated Indian Politician

Having lived in the United States, the world’s second largest democracy and only superpower, and having seen through an election season here, I am certain that nothing in this democracy matches the scale of the campaigning and the colour and energy of an Indian election. It is strange that India, a country so divided and diverse can be so regionally, socially and politically fragmented and can still have an elected government. I am not about to brush aside the success India has had in its electoral system because of the many faults associated with its politics, such as criminalization, caste politics and corruption. I am more optimistic than, say, Arundhati Roy is, in that it is possible for the Indian democratic system to become more refined as Indians, especially young Indians, realize the importance of their democratic heritage of sixty years. However, with all the mixed signals being sent out in this election ahead of it, the multitude of crises that haunt the public memory, I think it would be safe to say that the very system of our democracy is under attack from many sides, especially from a homebred cynicism amongst the youth that is threatening the fundamental premise that our country can be a democratic republic.

Where this cynicism comes from is a question any self-respecting Indian should ponder about. The changing tides of power and the cultural changes, globalization and economic influences have led to a multitude of changes in the average voter’s mindset. The truism that exists in Indian society today is that as a society with an increasingly wealthy upper class and a burgeoning middle class and an increasing number of poor people, the country as a whole is producing leaders who are more and more opportunistic, rather than more enlightened. Gone are the days when a Nehru or a Sardar Patel could inspire millions with his vision for the future. That world has merged with this one through the predictable route of authoritarian dynaties stemming from Nehru, the subsequent threats to the very idea of the Indian nation, communal clashes, the rise of the alternative to the Congress and even the rise of a third alternative to the Congress and the BJP. The phenomenon of coaliation politics is here to stay as well. These days, well meaning leaders are cast into the same fray as bullies, cowards and opportunists, making political survival a dirty game. There are no movements to capitalize on, no flags to fly except the flags that divide and conquer, and no stones are left unturned in gaining political advantage. Predictably, the way forward is forgotten in the mess of the present. And part of the mess of the present is the very nature of India – the pluralistic, dissonant country that has many faces, voices but seemingly, a single ethos.

Where does the common man fit into this picture? Only on the very fringes. The majority of India’s political class have effectively isolated the power of the common man from the equation, by practicing caste-based and communal politics. Even the so-called secular fronts indulge in this, perhaps more ignominously than the parties known to be oriented towards the Hindu majority in our country. The buck doesn’t stop there. Polarization on many fronts has been a feature of most recent Indian societies, especially during and after the 1980s. It is common knowledge that when a people are oppressed for centuries, and are then provided the freedom to practice their culture, they find an expression that is somewhat militaristic in its fervour, as if to affirm that their culture is a source of power. Leaders around the world have probably exploited this sentiment effectively, to lead their people in the face of odds large and small. The common man in today’s India is on the fringes, influencing these divisive forces, or else blissfully disconnected from the Gordian knot that is Indian politics. We need no Alexander in sight to break the knot with his sword, as that may damage the rope that makes the knot. This has been the case with our neighbour, Pakistan. We need a force that is intelletual and sweeping, awakening the masses to act in the face of corruption, greed and power hungry opportunism, and not a dictator who will crush the fabric of our society. Most well meaning fellow Indians accept this, but also admit that India’s system needs watershed change. This watershed change will probably not be a revolution, because, as poetic and irrational as it may sound, people are now too pragmatic for revolutions. It may be war that could change political equations in India, or better still, completely rewrite them, but war is a phenomenon that is becoming an outdated way of settling issues. That is, until we have our own version of D H Lawerence, who’d package the oldest trick in the book as the very latest thing and pass it off as the best thing to do. As enticing as this may be for those of us who think with our hearts rather than our heads, it is common knowledge that most effective outcomes to a problem lie in the middle, somewhere in between the very old and the very new. Although Bertrand Russell’s essay on Genius may have been relevant in 1932, it is most certainly not relevant in modern India, where things are more complex and anything pontifical and self-righteous is either frowned upon or dismissed as froth, as if the intentions behind these bouts of self-righteousness are malefic. It is not possible for India to attain a leader of magnanimous stature any more. We will have to make do with many hundreds of emasculated ones. This may not be a bad thing, and in fact, may become a very good thing, as long as we the people keep ourselves in check. If we were to cross the limits that we don’t know well enough yet, we may be in for trouble, and then, no one can come to our help in the midst of our distrust and cynicism.

There are probably two ways out of this. On the one hand, we could develop a cadre of leaders by a form of social engineering – but as we know crowds are generally less intelligent than the average person, and the greater the crowd, the more so. India is the second largest crowd in a single nation on the planet, and I don’t see a single leader emerging soon. The second way, is to do a lot more work away from the top, bring a silent revolution to the people that sees many more empowered, enlightened and cooperative individuals in our society. The second way is more sustainable, and that is probably the way forward.

Politicised Religion and Atheism

TED has a number of insightful and interesting lectures, one of the most witty, interesting and thought-provoking of which, is this lecture by Richard Dawkins. Richard Dawkins, the Charles Simonyi Professor for the Public Understanding of Science at Oxford University, is one of the controversial atheists at the forefront of the atheist-evolutionist nexus that hopes to educate ordinary people about the pitfalls of organized religion and the issues prevalent in all organized religion movements worldwide.

As a Hindu who has a bent of agnosticism within, and as someone who has questioned ritualism and superstition growing up, I have strongly identified in the past with Dawkins’ world view although I do get distracted from this logical bent of mind by the socio-political issues of fundamentalism and militant extremism facing the world today. In other words, the very precepts that we believe provide morality to our way of life as Hindus (or people of other religions) often conflict directly with similar beliefs of other religious systems. This identity conundrum has verily led to the identity crisis that exists today in any citizen of a nation that is multicultural but not necessarily truly secular. I have often believed that it is only an atheist polity that can be secular and accepting of multiple  religious identities.

Dawkins’ world view is rather different, in that the individual should be the agent of reason, rather than the government or society at large. One can, at times refute his arguments on the grounds that religion, philosophy and reason have a morality to account for, and that while the former two have provided a moral bent to the whole question of what is acceptable human social behaviour, it is not concievable to imagine that science or reason as we know it has provided a method of ascribing morality to the human condition in a manner that supposes that a reason derived from first principles, rather than a first cause, is responsible for the development of tendencies of morality in humans. He has often rubbished the causes that religions put forward for the creation of the universe (or rather the world, or a limited portion of it, as most religious texts/thoughts describe the beginning).

It is with the adoption of a number of ideas from the theory of evolution, and not by an original, rationally verifyable account, that Intelligent Design has hijacked the idea that the complexity of the universe around us is due to the presence of a greater intelligence. It is understandable why the Intelligent Design theorists were popular in the US during the time of the Republicans, some of who have a semi-religious bent in their attitude towards politics.

I found the Doha Debates, hosted by Tim Sebastian (noted former host of BBC’s Hard Talk) to be one of the few good programmes that take a good hard look at political Islam in the Middle East, perhaps as well as the US documentaries on radical Christianity have analyzed that phenomenon. The roles adopted by the participants were predictable, while some of the questions that came from the audience were rather elementary, given the seriousness of the problem in the region. The politicization of religion is not a phenomenon unique to the Middle East, where rabid ideologies like Wahhabism and other radical forms of Islam have run amok and made life miserable for millions at the hands of the Mullahs, while the royal families and the promoters of such radical strains of religion themselves live in careless disregard for the very rules they popularize. In a more educated society such as the US, confabulating the discoveries of science to create a theory that appeals to the atavistic tendencies amongst the conservatives, naturally makes for a very useful propaganda tool. If religion by itself can be made more popular by making the concept of a God more appealing to populace largely educated in an atmosphere of free thinking and surrounded by influences of technology and perhaps science, it may become possible to spread rabid ideologies in even the United States,  starting from regions such as the Bible belt, spreading eventually to the other conservative communities, to a point where the abhorrence of minorities, rational thinking and perhaps even free speech, may be made possible. This becomes a poll plank for the TV evangelists, whose endorsement of born-again Christian politicians or power hungry war veteran patriots seems to play an important role in their getting elected.

Even when you consider Dawkins’ allusion to diluted theism, Deism, which advocates a world view filled with wonder at nature, the efforts of most religious and political leaders to defeat the religion-politics nexus prevalent around the world is absent or feeble, and understandably so, because of the power equations therein. Atheism is probably the only movement that has gained acceptance in the United States for the last decade or so. A recent study indicates that more people are irreligious and less people identify themselves as being Christian. And this is despite claims by many right-wing Muslims in demonstrations and on newsgroups that Islam is the fastest growing religion in the West. Perhaps Atheism is popular for a good reason. Perhaps people really are sick and tired of differences of faith and the problems they breed, however, only time will tell whether these problems of today are short lived.