Monday, April 28, 2008

Giving Up the Car

I just finished reading Noel Perrin's "Giving Up the Gun: Japan's Reversion to the Sword, 1543-1879" for the second time. The first time I read it was for a dinner party/discussion group with noted military history professor Dennis Showalter in 1998 while attending the US Air Force Academy. This book is very important for a number of reasons...

First, let's not pull any punches: Perrin's historiographical method is poor. Perrin didn't speak Japanese, and largely fails to discuss one key to Japan's successful "giving up the gun" was that Tokugawa had unified the country and eliminated the impetus for warfare that existed prior to the Shogunate.

That said, the book is really an in-depth exploration of the ability of society to effectively "turn back the clock," to set aside an available and known technology due to a cultural preference. In the end, Japanese society consciously chose to set aside the gun in favor of a less "efficient" form of military killing that better suited their desire to maintain the class and cultural status quo. Specifically, samurai found that their heroic stature on the battlefield, their cultural significance, and their place in Japan's feudal hierarchy were endangered by a weapon such as the gun that effectively leveled the playing field and allowed plebeian marksmen to mow them down at will. Because of their leverage within the Shogunate, and because of the prevailing desire to maintain cultural "harmony" by the elites, the gun was effectively marginalized.

Even when I first discussed this book in 1998, it was in the context of the ability of human society to set aside a technological possibility for the long term benefit to humanity of not pursuing the short-term gain promised by that technology. Then, the specific focus was nuclear armaments. I re-read the book for the same reason, but today my interest was in the ability of human society to set aside our energy-intensive culture for our own long-term benefit--whether that comes in the form of climate change, preparation for peaking of fossil fuel production, or simply maintaining a level of information processing and hierarchy that is compatible with the human genome. I still think that Perrin's book has valuable insight to offer on this question--a question that I think is increasingly critical for the future of humanity.

Unfortunately, after re-reading Perrin, I am more pessimistic about the ability of modern society to set aside our current reliance on cheap and polluting energy in favor of some more sustainable economic basis for society. Perrin's analysis of Tokugawa Japan highlights (in part due to his historiographical failings) one key feature that facilitated Japan's "giving up the gun" but that is not present in modern society: economic, political, and military power all unified within a shared cultural framework. In Japan, the feudal economic and military system was composed of individual who were also the key to the contemporary military order, who shared a common cultural ethos, and who uniformly benefited themselves by supporting the Shogun's efforts to maintain that system by marginalizing guns. Modern society does not enjoy this kind of "unified command" of political, military, and social elements. Rather, and especially in comparison to modern industrial society, Japan in the Shogunate was hegemonic and could effectively move in unity in a single direction provided that the class of power-brokers uniformly benefited. Today, if the US were to effectively transition to a sustainable economic footing, India and China would most likely just pick up any slack in the system, and would likely even leverage the short-term benefit they would enjoy in both economic AND military advantage. Similarly, if one corporation or one individual were to make such a transition to sustainability, others would likely exploit their short-term inefficiency (or failure to maximally exploit the environment) to their own advantage. It is a new twist on a classic "tragedy of the commons" scenario: the global commons in energy consumption and environmental degradation requires that all players maximize their near-term consumption and pollution or lose out in power to those who do, without actually preserving energy or the environment through their own sacrifice.

It's a poor analogue, but "giving up the car" may be the close to the modern equivalent of giving up the gun. Absent a modern Shogunate to impose upon the masses what may (ultimately) be in our own best interest--preserving our environment, embarking on some form of oil depletion protocol, minimizing impact on climate--we likely won't choose to do so on our own. And even if we could muster the political will to do so in America, or in Europe, someone else will recognize this for what it is--an opportunity--and their resultant increase in consumption/pollution will eliminate any positive effect of our sacrifice. Which leads me to Vail's 10th Law (I'm still working on the first 9): any "solution" that requires people or government to behave better than they have in the past is doomed at the outset to failure. Or at least doomed to working as well as that strategy has worked in the past...

If I had to boil down my thinking into a meta-theory, it is that the trajectory of human society is a result of the structure of that society, and not of the individual wills at work within it. Change requires changing that structure, not producing some "great man" to lead the pliant masses. Right now our structure doesn't allow us to "give up the gun," or to give up the car either. At least not voluntarily. We may be able to, as individuals, see that it would be the wisest long-term course of action, but that is a very different thing than taking that path, collectively, as human society...

Labels: ,

Friday, March 21, 2008

The Problem of Growth

**Update: A unified and condensed version of "The Problem of Growth" is now up at The Oil Drum--readers may find the comments there of interest.

The fifth and final essay in "The Problem of Growth" is published (see links to all five essays below). This summary post is intended to place the series within the context of the problem it addresses, and will serve as an introduction to those who are getting to the party a bit late:

"The Problem of Growth" addresses what I see as the critical problem facing humanity: the structure of our civilization, its inherent need to grow (and therefore its unsustainability), and how we can fix the problem realistically. My proposed solution is, by definition, quite radical, because it rejects the prevalent problem-solving mechanism of modern technology: that we can use technology to continually mitigate the symptoms, rather than take the difficult (but, as I will argue, necessary) step of actually identifying and addressing the underlying problem.

Of course, it is certainly possible to "fix" the problem by continually developing more and better high technology "solutions" to each symptom of the underlying problem as it arises. This is what I call the "Roddenberry" solution, after the Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry. It consists of addressing symptoms through high-tech fixes, though it often claims to be addressing causes--in fact, it fails to either identify the underlying cause, or to address that underlying cause in any fundamental way.

It may be possible to successfully mitigate every symptom of our civilization's greatest problem as it arises through newer and shinier technology--we can, by definition, never know the truth of this proposition. I submit, however, that anyone who "believes" that it can or cannot happen is acting on faith, not reason. I personally view the potential for success of this "Roddenberry" proposition as very unlikely, primarily because success requires an unending streak of successes while failure simply requires failing to address any one key symptom; secondarily, I see this approach failing because I see most of the attempted "solutions" under the "Roddenberry" approach as actually contributing to the underlying problem; finally, I dislike this approach because the requisite faith in the technological solution necessary to believe that it will continue to work indefinitely, and not merely pass on a truly insurmountable problem to our grandchildren or great-great-grandchildren, seems eerily akin to some talking-sky-god religion. As Arthur C. Clarke noted in his Third Law, any sufficiently advanced technology [here, one that could continue to solve our problems indefinitely] is indistinguishable from magic.

That said, if we continually rely on technology to facilitate infinite growth on a finite planet, I think we're quite likely to be disappointed. I won't go so far as to say that "I know we'll fail" because that would rejecting the possibility that I'm wrong. Anyone who takes a position on this topic on faith--that is, anyone who "knows" that they're right or that I'm wrong--is, I suggest, acting irrationally. Even if you think it's very, very likely that technology and human innovation will continue to solve our problems, if you can't admit that there is a possibility that you're wrong, then you're just not being rational. If we can get people to rationally discuss the problems facing civilization (tall order, I admit), then I think we have a decent chance of solving them.

Below are links to each of the five essays in "The Problem of Growth" series:

Part 1: Hierarchy Must Grow, and is Therefore Unsustainable
Part 2: Hierarchy is the Result of Dependency
Part 3: Building an Alternative to Hierarchy: Rhizome
Part 4: Implementing Rhizome at the Personal Level
Part 5: Implementing Rhizome at the Community Level

Labels: ,