Technology and Transition
Monday,
October 13th, 1986: The day I was born. I don’t really remember much
about the time in the 80s but I do remember the 90s. Technology that connected
to a relatively new advent, the Internet, quickly made its way into homes
across the country and around the world. By the end of the first decade of the
new millennium, smart phones were ubiquitous and everyone that owned one began
connecting to at least one of the several forms of social media developed in
the past decade, sharing virtually every little detail of their lives with
people that just ten years earlier would have been considered total strangers
(some still are!). The dinosaurs of computing such as the Commodore 64 seem so
unreal to those born after 2000 that have known since the time they were 5 only
what it means to have the technology of the time: touchscreens, high speed
internet, and endless games and apps. We’ve reoriented to living vicariously
through pieces of glass, pretending the real world exists in a realm we can
never physically touch. In essence, in the time since my birth, a paltry 29
years, our society has witnessed an unparalleled paradigm shift across multiple
facets. But it’s not been only within my generation; it has been technology, as
well as global environmental events, facilitating such transitions and
connections throughout nearly our entire evolutionary history as hominids. In
this essay, my focus will be on the technological aspect of our proliferation
across and population of the world, how technology has essentially been the
catalyst for every great transition in the history of several of our hominid
ancestors, how the latest advents in machine automation are influencing the
current generation’s ways of accessing as well as understanding information,
and how through the implementation of a highly plausible, yet arguably radical, idea we can be the generation
that changes it all once again. And we can change it to a system which manages
resources sustainably and provides access to the necessities of life to
everyone on the planet without a price tag. But first, where did we come from?
Feder tells us, “Sahelanthropus, Orrorin, and Ardipithecus
are among the candidates for designation “oldest hominid”, all dating to about
6 million years ago” (Feder 2014). These were the first bipedal species and it
was from one of these which evolved Australopithecus
anamensis, 4.2 million years ago, Australopithecus
afarensis, coinciding with a global cooling event 2.5 million years ago,
and Homo habilis, producers of the
first stone tools (Feder 2014). A stone tool making process known as Acheulean
was developed by the next evolutionary ancestor of ours: homo erectus. It is also Homo
erectus which began the process of migrating out of Africa, moving into
parts of Asia:
The oldest evidence for the presence of
hominids in China has been found in the form of chert, sandstone, quartz, and
andesite cores and flakes at the Majuangou site in the Nihewan River basin… The
site presents researchers with another example of how quickly Homo erectus must have spread across the
face of Asia once expanding beyond its place of origin in Africa… Remember that
the oldest Homo erectus find outside
of Africa dates to 1.78 million years ago at Dmanisi [Georgia]… This implies it
that it took Homo erectus just a
little more than 200,000 years to spread across several thousand miles of
territory (Feder 2014).
Weather has always been a supremely
relevant factor in our evolutionary history; however, it is only through
technological means that early hominids were capable of protecting themselves
from the climatic changes that have occurred over the millennia. The Oldowan
tools of Homo habilis and the
Acheulean handaxe of Homo erectus,
while distinctly different, both served purposes of cutting plant material and
animal flesh. In a way, the Acheulean handaxe was the original Swiss Army
knife—long before the Swiss Army; long before knives. Interestingly, the
handaxe technology appears to have not
migrated with Homo erectus, leading
to several possible explanations, one of which is supported by Feder:
It is possible that Homo erectus first expanded out of Africa before they developed
handaxe technology. Handaxes moved east with subsequent population movements
(getting to India by 1.5 million years ago and China after 1 million years ago)
(Feder 2014).
Although none of the explanations can
definitively account for the absence of the handaxe technology from the
migration of Homo erectus,
tool-making has been an integral part of the survival of the subsequent species
since. Feder continues:
Homo
erectus was a stable and
long-lived species. Fossils from Africa to east Asia show a consistent
morphology from close to 1.8 million to 400,000 years ago. After 400,000 years
ago, brain size, relatively stable during the existence of erectus, exhibits a rapid increase, signifying the evolution of the
first Homo sapiens from an erectus base (Feder 2014).
So,
what’s the point of going through this history? It turns out that each of these
evolutionary transitions—bipedalism, the increase in brain size, and so on—appears
to coincide with sophistication of these stone tools. Homo sapiens developed a technique called Levallois which produces
consistent flakes from a stone core. Between this period around 400,000 years
ago and when anatomically modern Homo
sapiens evolved, blade tools were developed. Once the modern form of Homo sapiens replaced every other
hominid species including Neanderthals (probably interbreeding with the species
at some point) by around 40,000 years ago, the branches of our species in
Europe developed several phases of tooling. Feder explains once more:
The blade technologies of the Upper
Paleolithic are short-lived, and change is greatly accelerated. In western
Europe, for example, the Aurignacian tradition consisted of a specific set of
tools that included retouched blades, engraving tools called burins, and stone
scrapers, and it is dated to between 34,000 B.P. and 27,000 B.P. (Feder 2014).
Following the Aurignacian, the Gravettian,
from 27,000 B.P. to 21,000 B.P., and the Solutrean, from 21,000 B.P. to 16,000
B.P., the Magdelanian, from 16,000 B.P. to around 11,000 B.P., saw a shift from
stone tools to bone and antler tools. It was during these latter periods that
humankind began exploring the world through what many historians perceive as
the first forms of artistic expression.
Although
some of the earliest paintings of animals date to around 35,000 years ago in
Indonesia, it is the fascinating work of Upper Paleolithic people near
Lasceaux, France from around 15,000 years ago which represents a remarkable
change in how our species viewed the world. By this time, the bow and arrow and
spear-thrower had both long been a part of Homo
sapiens’ hunting toolkit. The development of more sophisticated tools and
weaponry, at least in the history of humankind, appears to be contingent upon
the refinement of understanding. In other words, it is unlikely that the
increasingly rapid technological progress our species has made would have
occurred as quickly as it did if the incredibly complex neural network and
associate memory system in Homo sapiens’
brain hadn’t evolved. Art, a logical outcome of designing with an associative
mind, appears to function as a reflection of the broad, sometimes
seemingly-disparate, connections and patterns that our individual minds are
capable of making and seeing. John Berger, writing in Ways of Seeing and mostly with the assumption that everyone that is
born can actually see, states, “Images were first made to conjure up the
appearances of something that was absent” (Berger 1972). Of course, Berger was
referring to Renaissance-era artwork, but the sentiment is equally applicable
to Upper Paleolithic cave paintings. I’ll revisit more of Berger’s view
shortly.
Transitioning out of the Pleistocene era,
Earth began warming significantly, leading to an explosion of diverse plant and
animal species around the world between 12,000 and 10,000 years ago. With a
much milder climate, larger settlements began accumulating around resource-rich
areas, along rivers and near river deltas, in places around the world such as
Mesopotamia and in Central and South America (Feder 2014). In the span of a few
thousand years, our species domesticated many different plants and animals,
established large agricultural communities, developed hierarchy and social
stratification, operated as vast trading economies, built massive monumental
structures, and devised various languages—none of which would have been
possible without the series of technological advancements taking place in
conjunction with the change in Earth’s climate. So far, the idea that
technology is the main catalyst for every great transition in human history
holds.
Advancements in metallurgy, casting, and
sculpting led to the next great transitional phase in our history manifesting
in glorious jewelry, strikingly realistic statues, and beautiful relief
sculptures on geometrically produced buildings. But then something happened in
our history that stifled progress for about a thousand years: The Dark Ages.
Not many historical records have survived from the time but before
transitioning again into what is known as the Renaissance, atrocities such as
the Spanish Inquisition were carried out and killed several thousand people for
not believing in “the right god”. Sparing an unnecessary and long divergence,
the Renaissance marked the beginning of another transition in human society.
The beginning of the 16th
century was an exciting time for progress. A fantastically realistic form of
art had been developing in the area in and around Italy that harnessed the
power of the newly-understood concept of perspective.
Perspective uses converging lines to give an air of authenticity to
three-dimensional representations on two-dimensional mediums. In other words,
it shows the world as we see it.
Berger writes, “Today we see the art of the past as nobody saw it before. We
actually perceive it in a different way” (Berger 1972). Continuing the logic,
Berger explains:
This difference can be illustrated in
terms of what was thought of as perspective. The convention of perspective,
which is unique to European art and which was first established in the early
Renaissance, centres everything on the eye of the beholder. It is like a beam
from a lighthouse—only instead of light travelling outwards, appearances travel
in. The conventions called those appearances reality. (Berger 1972).
But perspective is only relevant to the
single viewer of the work of art; i.e. perspective familiarizes the world to a
single person when viewed in a single place. “The inherent contradiction in
perspective,” Berger states, “was that it structured all images of reality to
address a single spectator who, unlike God, could only be in one place at a
time” (Berger 1972). Essentially, Berger best exemplifies the point I’m making
here by writing, “The way we see things is affected by what we know or what we
believe” (Berger 1972). I would take this one step further and say that there
is a reciprocity involved. That is, the way we see things is affected not just
by what we know or what we believe, but what we know and what we believe are
also affected by the way we see things. There is a sort of social construction
of knowledge through experience.
In
Fear of Knowledge: Against Relativism and
Constructivism, Paul Boghossian describes the concept of the social
construction of knowledge and how it has influenced our species historically:
“Our early ancestors thought they
knew that earth was flat, but they were wrong. Although their belief about
earth was justified, it was false. If a belief is to count as knowledge, it
must not only be justified; it must also be true” (Boghossian 2006). Here,
Boghossian highlights an important realization that early experimenters,
perhaps most notable of which being Galileo Galilei, made: that shifting around
rhetoric in a delightful, sophisticated manner doesn’t actually reveal many
fundamental truths about the
universe. Instead, it takes repeated experimentation, challenging of any
preconceived notions one might have, and, when applicable, abandonment of those
notions if they are found to be false. This concept of reserving belief for
presentation of evidence was foundational for the four centuries of exponential
growth in knowledge and technological advancement since Galileo turned his
refined version of a telescope to the skies, discovering the first means by
which we would explore the universe. Yet again, technology appears at the forefront
of social progression and humankind’s proliferation.
Since
the time of Galileo, we have seen the rise and fall of numerous governments and
institutions, witnessed an astounding increase in population, developed
unfathomable technologies and means of transportation and communication—some of
us have even stepped on the moon! We’ve also allowed the establishment of a
fictitious commodity that essentially is so engrained in our modern way of
living, life without it seems a distant fantasyland to the vast majority of the
population: money. Money is a nothing thing. It has no real value. As it stands, our current modern monetary/market system
is wholly contingent upon the existence of electronic banking and the public
perception that money is not only valuable, it is necessary. (Technology rears its head again in our quest to
discover its influence on our progress.) Money is a socially constructed
concept. And as much as I would love to expand upon the concept of money for 10
or so more pages, I’ll simply refer to what Boghossian has to say about it: “If
we wished, we could make it the case that there ceases to be money in the
future (although it would obviously be far from easy)” (Boghossian 2006).
Imagine what we could accomplish by transcending this pretended necessity!
Astrophysicist
Neil deGrasse Tyson, an active public figure promoting the importance of
science education and director of the Hayden Planetarium in New York City, has
addressed many facets of our society through much of his work. In Death by Black Hole, Tyson explains:
Many factors influence how and why a
nation will make its mark. Strong leadership matters. So does access to
resources. But something else must be present—something less tangible, but with
the power to drive an entire nation to focus its emotional, cultural, and
intellectual capital on creating islands of excellence in the world. Those who
live in such times often take for granted what they have created, on the blind
assumption that things will continue forever as the are, leaving their
achievements susceptible to abandonment by the very culture that created it
(Tyson 2007).
After nearly 6 million years of
evolutionary history, it took us merely 400 years since Galileo’s
experimentation to create a system capable of connecting over 7 billion people:
The Internet. And what do we do with it? We share cat videos! We bully and make
fun of each other! We share glorified penis and fart jokes! We have all become
so connected that we’re disconnected! But we also have access to
the entirety of humankind’s knowledge-base. So, the Internet is probably the
ultimate double-edged sword. We have the world at our fingertips yet waste so
much of our time living vicariously through pieces of metal and glass that we
risk losing the sense of responsibility that comes with stewardship of a planet.
Many
people throughout history have speculated on the future of our species. Ray
Kurzweil is perhaps one of the most prominent writers in the transhumanist camp
that advocates the integration of machine technology with humans. “The
singularity,” explains Kurzweil, “will represent the culmination of the merger
of our biological thinking and existence with our technology, resulting in a
world that is still human but that transcends our biological roots” (Kurzweil
2005). That sounds great and I understand where Kurzweil is coming from;
however, I think that several fundamental aspects of our society need to be
addressed before we start talking about such integration of technology with the
human body. For example, we allow over 10,000 people to starve to death every
single day; we are at constant war with ourselves, developing ever-decreasingly
excellent methods by which to incinerate each other; and we have grown into a
culture that prides itself on the notion of knowing
how to look things up instead of knowing
things. Technology is wonderful! But all technology has the potential to be
beneficial as well as detrimental. Whereas rescue equipment can be outfitted on
a helicopter that is used to save lives, missiles and machine guns can be
strapped to that very same helicopter and used to blow people up. Technology is
simply an extension of human attributes—intimately interconnected with every
great transition in our history. This means that with current technology, we are the architects of the future. So,
what kind of future can we have?
We
currently have the technology, resources, and the understanding to design an
economic model based upon sustainability, abundance, and preservation; to feed,
clothe, and house every human on the planet. Known as a Resource Based Economy,
the concept has been developed over the past 75 years by industrial designer
and social engineer Jacque Fresco. Fresco recently turned 100 years old and
currently resides on a 23-acre research facility built by him and his partner
Roxanne Meadows in Venus, Florida. In a nutshell, the idea behind what he calls
The Venus Project can be summed
up best in Jacque’s own words:
In a
Resource Based Economy all goods and services are available to all people
without the need for means of exchange such as money, credits, barter or any
other means. For this to be achieved all resources must be declared as the
common heritage of all Earth’s inhabitants. Equipped with the latest scientific
and technological marvels mankind could reach extremely high productivity
levels and create abundance of resources (Fresco 2016).
It’s not unrealistic. In fact, in
terms of shaping our own reality, humankind’s future has never been so pliable. We are living in the most pivotal point in
our species’ history and have a chance to set a standard of unparalleled social
and technological advancement. The choice is ours. If we can manage to unglue
our eyes from what appears to have become our technological oblivion (phones),
perhaps we can choose to set such an example that 10,000 years from now, our
posterity will look back and exclaim, “That
was the generation that did it! That
generation was the one that decided a high standard of living is a right of every human on the planet! That generation, against all odds, rose
to the occasion and proved that we have what it takes to deserve stewardship of
this majestic world!”
That
generation is my generation; it’s
your generation. Our generation. What are we doing with what little time we have
here?
References
Berger,
John. Ways of Seeing. London: BBC and
Penguin, 1972. Print.
Boghossian,
Paul A. Fear of Knowledge: Against
Relativism and Constructivism. Oxford:
Claredon,
2006.
Feder, Kenneth L. The Past in Perspective: An Introduction to Human Prehistory. New
York:
Oxford University Press, 2014.
Fresco, Jacque. https://www.thevenusproject.com/resource-based-economy/
Kurzweil, Ray. The Singularity is Near. US: Penguin Group, 2005.
Tyson, Neil deGrasse. Death by Black Hole. New York/London:
W.W. Norton and Company,
2007.
No comments:
Post a Comment