Eclectic Iconoclasm

The world does not require Heroes. The evolutionary cycle is depicted on Buddha's wheel: we arise from chaos, celebrate our success and return to that from which we came. In the Western liturgy, 'ashes to ashes, dust to dust.' This cyclic view justifies the saying, 'this, too, will pass.'

But, does that mean one must be resigned or fatalistic?

I think not. Fatalism is certainly ruled out, because that view implies the existence of an ordained end; i.e., history is supposed to have goals or values. If we accept the notion that things are chaotic in the long run, it is illogical to posit any end of history. On the other hand, that exclusion does not justify resignation, because, in the short run, we may be able to influence events. Resignation is the consequence of iron-clad determinism. Determinism is a belief that things must be as they are, so nothing can be done about them. Determinism has in common with fatalism the supposition of an end or progression in history. Fatalism and resignation are inconsistent with chaos.

I think chaos is the mechanism of history, which is to assert a null hypothesis; i.e., chaos is the default case, or the most reasonable supposition. This view is supported by the lengthy history of our planet reconstructed by geologists and paleontologists. It is always possible to apply an ordering to the finite set of retrospective observations. For example, the progression of life forms from simple, single cells to complex organisms can be seen as necessary. But that necessity cannot be  final, because the ordered series is based on limited evidence. It is not just that other evidence may be discovered; there are also several different possible explanations of the sequences. In the history of life, there have been seemingly random events; e.g., the KT and other boundary events that destroyed almost all life on Earth several times. Those events were unforeseeable and unforeseen. Even today our science is unable to predict when such an event might occur.

History could work by a different means; e.g., there could be Cause and Effect. Every mechanism of history different from chaos must suppose some form of "necessity" exists in the stuff of our Universe. I quote "necessity," because it is a tricky term often carrying many different meanings. For example, there is the necessity of history instigated by the will of gods, or, again, the necessity of history determined as a Newtonian clockwork. There are many other meanings of necessity, but all of them propose an inevitable, forceful connection between A and B. In the presence of necessity, once A occurs, B is sure to follow. Thus, necessity of whatever sort is always a statement about the ordering of events in time; or, at least, a statement about the ordering of observations.

If there is cause and effect, if history moves to an end, the necessary connection of events must include every event. A core meaning of necessity is "no exceptions." Those who propose such views therefore have the difficult task of showing that everything that happens is ordered. Since a single exception disproves that sort of theory, proponents of necessity must explain away the findings of Quantum Mechanics (a very difficult and unlikely undertaking).

The simplest assumption is that history has neither cause nor effect (purpose). It is what it is.

Despite the claim that history is chaotic, short term organization is possible. There are a number of ways to understand this seeming contradiction. In the long run, the (perfect) tossing of a coin is always random; heads or tails are equally likely. Nevetheless, one regularity is the theoretical 50% probability of heads or tails. There is also a finite, calculable probability that any particular sequence will occur; e.g., HHH or TTT will occur 1/8 = (1/2)³ of the time. In the same way, there are finite (but not easily calculated) probabilties that historical events will occur in a certain way. The seeming certainties of our Universe are a local organization of the underlying inchoate; i.e., the picking of a sequence. But that does not mean the Universe or history is determined; far from it.

The underlying Quantum probabilities can "get stuck" and churn out the sort of ordered world we experience. The bonding of atoms into molecules is not pre-determined; organic life is not a necessary outcome. Nevertheless, the quantum rules governing electrons and quarks render matter "hard," and allow the sort of Newtonian or Einsteinian causality we assume universally applies at large scales. This is a quirk of nature, not a natural or godly necessity. It is a special sequence of the coin toss, which could end at any time.

Coming to History, the same sort of dichotomy is apparent. It seems obvious that we have not had conscious control over the sequence of developments from Homo erectus to Homo sapiens. In fact, prior to Homo sapiens, probably there was no "conscious" anything on this planet. Even reviewing the last ten millennia of  human cultures, starting with the invention of agriculture, scarcely reveals any order or indisputable pattern. On the other hand, historians and scientists have rendered accounts of what happened in which one thing seems the logical result of another thing. It seems humanity "progressed" from growing wheat and rice to settling in villages, forming governments which regulated agricultural commodities. From that grew commerce and empires. Later on, with the advent of writing, came scholarship, literature and science. Every culture has provided itself with a history explaining its origins and purposes. The ability to capture a supposed order in writing, and cause others to imagine it from the retelling, flavors history with determinism, the feeling that 'it must be so.' It is that feeling which makes War and Peace so compelling, and which seems to give Tolstoy's following Lecture on History credibility.

We, Homo sapiens, make the connections we do as a result of our evolution. Whatever the underlying condition of the Universe, our species evolved on this planet, Earth. Our ancestors observed the prancing antelopes and flowering figs for millions of years. We "knew" the figs are good to eat, and near the antelope is a cheetah. We are programmed that way, just as are all the other animals and plants. In the sequence of orderings which is our Earth, those particulars happened to work; so we are here. It is only now, with the advent of that conscious reflection we call science, that we know it need not have been that way. The simple clam rests on the sea bottom, attached to something or other, sucking in and pushing out its liquid medium. From that it derives its sustenance, but we do not believe it knows what it is doing. It just does it. How does our knowing what we do make it any different?

The only test we have of conscious determination is the experiment. We propose things work by this or that rule. We propose the rules have a certain formalism, so we can logically derive consequences from the rules. The logic itself is a formalism recorded from observation of the deductions of Homo sapiens. In other words, based on how we usually behave - how we are programmed to reason - we take certain observations together as a pattern. Our brains are good at finding patterns because of our evolution, but we don't really know what those patterns are or how we arrive at them. According to our patterning abilities - our logic - one thing follows another thing. Thus we know lions will attack, kill and eat wildebeest, just as wolves capture and devour deer. So it is that Mercury and Pluto revolve about the Sun, the Solar System rotates within the Milky Way galaxy, and our galaxy will someday be destroyed in the collision with Andromeda. We know all of this because our formalisms predict the orbits of planet and stars, as well as the paths of billiard balls and jet engine turbine blades. We know all this because we can assemble wood, metal and clay into refineries and factories which produce the vehicles that transport us. We depend on it. Our experiements work. All of that makes the world seem a regular, ordered place.

It is against that background that Heroes take shape. Would Odysseus make any sense, if he were merely an accident? Would not a Stalin or Hitler fade into the background, just some variegated leaves on historical trees, if we did not expect a pattern? On the other hand, Heroes cannot be the creatures of a clockwork. If, as in the famous clocks of Europe, Heroes are trotted out on the appointed hour to sing and dance, and then shuttered until another pefformance is required, would we think them any more than coloriful, talented puppets? Heroism, then, is not an act in the world of cause and effect, nor a discernible happening in the chaos. Heroes can only make sense in a world in which voluntary choice has an effect for a time; in which probability plays itself out as the possibility of more than one outcome.

A Universe founded on chaos militates against those who seek Universal order or permanent Greatness. Chaos, disguised as Entropy, tears down every human achievement. We have discovered the bones of certain dinosaurs and other animals, as well as remnants of even older insects, fish and plants. Those creatures lived many million years ago, but all we know of them is an outline. No one knows what happened to Joe, the friendly Duckbill, anymore than we know about ZoZi, the recently deceased honeybee. Their individuality is lost in the degeneration of organic matter to the inorganic, and the dispersal of inorganic atoms throughout the environment. It is even likely that some of the hydrogen atoms once imbedded in a leaf are now flitting about outer space. By extension, whatever anyone of us does will eventually fade into the background.

Oddly enough, it is usually the authoritarians who believe in Heroes. Those who want an orderly Universe are especially addicted to Generals and Emperors who create the illusion of meaning. Yet, as said above, it is exactly order which denies the possibility of Heroism.

We should not be discouraged by authoritarian deceptions or the chaos that lies beyond the grave. What the timeliness of choice reveals is the scale on which we should seek to act. What is important is what is human, what we want now. The very fact of things lasting only for a time is profoundly important in human affairs. It implies we can only enjoy our lives as long as they last. We should put aside resignation, fatalism and superhuman intentions, because none of them are realistic within human time scales.

This view of History has implications in the organization of human societies and pursuit of human affairs. It does not support anarchism, which embraces chaos, thus defeating all social purposes and projects. It does not support gods, demons or Heroes, because they are beyond human capability. The authority of machine-like mechanisms cannot be translated into any human command, because it is contradictory to assume the Universe is well ordered and that humans have any choice in the matter.

What my view of History does support is decisions made on a human scale for human purposes. These are the things we do everyday and in the course of our lives. These things do not transcend  History, or suppose any particular final end of history. That these things will not matter in the long run of Universal history does not matter. It is enough that they matter to us, now and for a time.

I believe this view of History is important because it counsels us to ignore the commands and blandishments of Conquerers who would have us do evil things to become Great.