Religion - the Catalyst for Civilization?

If God is a delusion, then perhaps it's a purpuseful one:

The evidence from Turkey suggests that the pilgrimage impulse, the collective worship impulse, the sacred space impulse, are all supra-natural, if not super-natural. There is something within us, not necessarily from outside us, which compels the building of Gobekli Tepe and places like it. That "something" is not simply accounted for by the usual explanations which seek to explain, or, too often, explain away, people's attachment to religious expression.

 

That conclusion, if correct, means that religion needs to be taken a whole lot more seriously by many of the people who read this section, especially those among them who constantly insult the religious impulse. It also means that those who assume that religion belongs to one group, one understanding of God or Gods or one particular scripture, would do well to practice more modesty about such claims.

The evidence from Gobekli Tepe suggests that religion is both more real, and more human, than is often admitted. The ultra-orthodox in both camps in the ongoing debate about what religion "really is," where it came from and what purposes it serves may find this difficult to accept.

Faith and Science, Church and State – and Politics

As public resentment against the failings of capitalism swells in a frustrated, embittered population, there is spillover resentment being aimed at other institutions associated with the Right – for example, the Church.  Of course, generalizations are human nature, so just as the Political Right is inextricably identified with the Church (the Christian institution in its multiple and diverse facets, again, generalized), the Church is viewed as inseparable from religion.

This is, of course, facetious.  Religions are systems of meaning, not structures or hierarchies.  Religious institutions no more encompass the entirety of a religion than grammar and syntax are the sum total of language, or for that matter, language the whole of communication.  Perhaps a better comparison would be cinema; a movie tries to get a message, a sentiment, a collective experience across through images, words, music, editing and all the tools of the trade.  This is what religion does; the institutions are simply the grammar.

While language is the single greatest tool humankind has developed – it allows us to communicate complex ideas, share information and collectively plan – it comes with its own inherent constraints.  A good example of this; we partly define a thing by expressing that which it is not.  When people see some things as beautiful, other things become ugly; when people see some things as good, other things become bad. 

The political spectrum is a perfect example of this; we define things as being “Right Wing” or “Left Wing”, though we fully recognize that a fiscal conservative isn’t necessarily a social conservative, or that a Liberal isn’t necessarily anti-capitalist.  People who self-identify as being at one end of the spectrum or the other will both claim exclusionary title to the basics of morality (things like compassion, integrity, resolve) even though that’s clearly not the case.  The oppositional definitions that we create for ourselves and our tendency to view others as being that which we are not greatly limits our capacity for dialogue.

Which is why, to be broadly successful, political parties invariably have to move towards the centre.

Religion, then, is not the antithesis of science; instead, they serve different, complimentary purposes.

The Complimentary Difference

The purpose of religion is to provide meaning: “Why am I here? What was I meant to be?"  These are esoteric questions that can’t be quantified or rationalized; therefore they are beyond the capacity of science to answer.  Religion is interpretation, not a statement of fact.

Fact is the domain of science.    The purpose of science is not to provide meaning, but to expand understanding – to know the mechanics of existence.  This is invaluable.  If we didn’t, for example, understand the properties of light, we wouldn’t have electricity, CDs, X-Rays, etc.  Knowing how the world functions allows us to interact with it more efficiently and to better harness the potential that lies in nature.

While science may provide us with the button, it can’t tell us whether it is right to push it.  The more we learn about the universe and ourselves through science, the more questions we have about our place, purpose, and responsibilities – again, questions that science has never claimed to have answers for. 

Science opens the door; it’s religion that takes us through.

Yes, as the global village goes through its current period of growth pains, polarization is natural; tension leads to agitation, which is narrow in scope and confrontational.  The solutions to our challenges, though, won’t lie in seeking to differentiate ourselves from each other by gravitating to the left or the right, but in the way the confluence of each propels us forward.

Science is not capable of giving our world meaning; despite what  some would claim, that doesn’t imply that meaning doesn’t exist.

When the doctrine of any religion was written, the writers didn’t have access to the vast amount of knowledge science has provided us with, nor do they now have all the facts we will ever know – our understanding of existence continues to expand and evolve.  This doesn’t repudiate the message or the values carried by religious beliefs – meaning and knowing aren’t the same thing.  Why not "render unto science the things which are science's?”

Religion and Science, much like the individual approach of the Right and the collective approach of the Left – the only way forward is together.

ETHICS: MORALITY, SOCIETY, URBAN ADAPTATION AND WHAT IT ALL MEANS FOR ETHICAL OIL

"Levant’s thesis is simple enough: compared to most of the world’s oil sources, northern Alberta is a veritable bastion of stability, political enlightenment and environmental responsibility."

 “If it weren’t for Alberta’s energy sector, I wouldn’t enjoy the quality of life I do today.”

There are two things the hubbub around “ethical oil” have to tell us about society:

ONE – ETHICS MATTER

Despite what Conservatives pundits have tried to tell me (and PM Steven Harper tried to tell the world when he said Canadians “don’t care” about morality in procedure) – ethics matter.  The Defenders of the Crude would never use the term otherwise.

The importance of ethics makes sense not out of some perceived notion of the better angels of human nature, but out of simple social evolutionary adaption.  Do Unto Others as You’d Have Them Do Unto You only gains in meaning when the Other is beside you every day on the subway, or can access your whole life – and your social networks – online.  The give-a-penny, share-a-penny mentality also makes sense because it proactively builds good will, collaboration and mutual benefit.  Call it the busker model of business.  It’s not unique to humans – even chimpanzees do altruism, because it pays. 

The users of oil might just be using “ethical” to soften the appeal of their cause, but the fact that they feel it necessary to use the word at all is telling in and of itself.  Just like “clean coal”, there is recognition on the part of old-tier energy resource advocates that people ARE concerned about environmental degradation and the impact of resource-use on local communities.  It’s the same trend we saw with the advent of “humane” capital punishment, moving from public hangings to private, less painful injections.  Eventually, you get to a point where you can’t simply can’t sugar-coat the unpalatable enough and choose a third way.

The third way is renewable energy, clean/green energy.  The broad, long-term appeal here is that “renewable” will translate into “ever-lasting” and “clean” will end up meaning less degradation in one’s backyard.  In ancient Rome or even Victorian England, personal waste got dumped on the street.  That kind of self-centred, short-term focused thinking led to plagues and epidemics that impacted everyone equally.  It took a while, but we eventually learned how to collaborate on a more effective model; we have a public sewage system now, and are all a lot healthier for it.

Fossil fuel is today’s equivalent to dumping crap on our streets; yes, it’s handy, yes, it’s there, but you mess up the lawn and risk health (individual and environmental) and access to green space to get it.  If your personal gains outweigh the costs, you don’t care – which is why Albertans are more pro-oil than they are willing to adopt new technologies, but we’ll get to that in point two.

The clean/green movement is the advocate for  tomorrow, but that tomorrow comes at the expense of oil-beneficiaries’ present.  Yes, it is telling that the majority of them aren’t dependent on oil-or-coal generated income.  That just means that the short-term carrot of fossil fuel is smaller for them than the long-term carrot of consequence, while the long-term carrot of better access with less consequence is perhaps bigger than the short-term stick for “Ethical Oil” folk in adapting to a new system.  The great minds behind the Oil Industry could be redirecting their energy on building the next thing – creative destruction as the only option for perpetual success.  It’s far easier, though, to keep promoting and expandinge horse-and-buggy market rather than invest in developing cars.  Though we know how that turns out.

The weighing of long-and-short term carrots and sticks is the history of cognitive development and civilization.  As we live in increasingly dense urban environments, the long-term sticks that result from snatching short-term carrots grow in significance, as does the possibility of big carrots down the road if you perhaps skip the small carrot available at the present.  The societal whole is increasingly less tolerant of individual gain at social cost.

Hence, ethics.  And that’s why even the use of the term “ethical oil” is a great indicator of the slow demise of fossil fuel dependence.  

TWO – YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK TO BEFORE

There comes a time when any model outlives its practical usefulness.  There is never a clean cut line between models, however – there is always a period of friction.  In that way, social upheaval is the same as the shifting of tectonic plates – and equally inevitable.

As an example: Feudal Japan went out fighting – the samurai battled against the adoption of the Western model and the country against the West itself.  In the end, the result was inevitable.  You can’t stop progress.

The use of the horse and buggy was familiar and comfortable.  Just as important, it was routine.  The advent of the car brought great benefits, but new challenges.  The introduction of the train, though, was terrifying for once-isolated communities.  The train brought disruption, diversity, quantity.  It changed everything.  It is no coincidence that the concerns being raised around mass transit through a railway grid used the exact same arguments being leveled against wind turbines today.  There were concerns about the health impacts of trains on people and livestock.  Some said that the noise and commotion of locomotion lead to two-headed calves being born.  While many of the arguments presented might seem ridiculous, but they were based in a very real place – the discomfort of change.

Change, unfortunately, is the order of the day.  Just look at the impact of the Internet on print journalism, the pulp and paper industry and the communities that depended on it.  The ripple-effects of the 21^st Century are shattering the conventions that have sustained us, in some cases, since the dawn of the industrial revolution.  Is it any surprise that stress-related mental illness diagnoses are on the rise, economies are contracting, national and domestic tensions increasing, and decision-makers are waffling?

I think there would be a lot of agreement with that concept.  The Tea Party and Occupy Movement would surely be on board.  But what does this have to do with oil?

Here are the pro-ethical oil and anti-oil arguments, as I understand them:

Anti-oil

Depending on your point of view, oil is all kinds of wrong – its extraction hurts the environment, it’s a limited resource so can’t be relied on forever and the sheer amount of energy, resources and innovative potential put into obtaining it are long-term wasted as again, it won’t last forever.  When there is even the remote potential of something cleaner and more sustainable, why on earth would you focus on building the better buggy when cars are the thing people are after?  When that opportunity equates to economic opportunity, isn’t it detrimental not to pursue green energy?

Pro-oil

Or, it is absolutely right.  Fossil fuels have been the source of social growth since the industrial age – you can’t expect that to change.  There’s still enough out there to last all of mankind for, well, a while; we’ll have time to figure out what next way down the road, (ie: not our problem).  Given that reality, isn’t it better that we use our own oil and make money doing so?  Fossil fuel generated income plays a huge role in our economy and besides, the way Canada does oil is far better than other countries.  We successfully and proudly advertise “ethical” Canadian diamonds to a desiring world market; “ethical oil” is the same thing.  Besides, this is a Western thing.  The elites in Central Canada have called the shots, ignoring the West, for far too long – it’s our term to lead now and if it’s at their expense, so be it.

The first argument is a proactive one; the minimal size of the carrot to be had from oil extraction and use stands in contrast to the broader implications of the long-term stick of environmental degradation and the lack of preparedness for what a world without oil would mean.  The short-term discomfort to be had from developing and building a clean/green energy infrastructure is nothing compared to the long-term benefits of stability, sustainability and a back-yard that doesn’t reek of bitumen and muddy up your carpet. 

The emerging clean/green energy industry is all about building new partnerships, information sharing, building on innovation – horizontal integration, building new energy networks, etc.  Proactive is adaptive. 

The second argument is a reactive one; we’ve got it, we’re using it, the payoff is great.  If you don’t get the payoff, too bad, but don’t try to take it away from me.  I don’t want less of what works, I want more of it – shouldn’t everyone?  Those trying to take away my carrot are themselves the stick, so I have to swat them with a club.  Hence, the whole ethical oil movement. 

Notice the focus of Ethical Oil is on the unethical nature of their opponents?  It’s less about why fossil fuel use is good, it’s why the alternative is bad.  Green energy is unproven.  Foreign oil is blood-fuel.  Those who are against us are either soft-hearted lefties or the powerful, foreign interest groups conspiring against us.  It’s not about who the partners are or could be – China, for instance – it’s about who the enemy is and how the enemy is not us.  It is no irony that the Harper Conservatives used the same “trouble lapping at our shores”/”socialists and separatists” threats to push for a majority government as they’re using to back ethical oil.  The whole ethical oil argument fits in with selectionist thinking; it’s reactive.  Reactive is combative.

When it looks like their opponent’s arguments are gaining traction, the anti-oil factions become equally reactive.  When reactive meets reactive, you inevitably end up with conflict.  Just ask Rob Ford.

This is as true in national politics as it is in personal politics.  Politics, really, is the social equivalent to fighting – the whole point of politics is to plan your success at the expense of someone else, or mitigate harm to yourself by deflecting it with criticism pointed elsewhere.

Some of my journalist friends’ would tell me segueing into why reactive vs proactive is a distraction that takes away from the main point, but I think it’s fundamental to understanding what’s really happening here.  Plus, this is a blog, not a lecture – you can read whichever pieces you like.  The industrial revolution, the horse and buggy, the collapse of print media and the rise of online social networks, the ethical oil argument and even the rise of urban living are all tied into the same paradigm. Understanding the causal factors behind social, behavioural patterns is key to making the best decisions that balance long-term interests against short-term needs.  They all tie in to the rise of the city.

URBAN, ADAPTIVE LIVING

Urban living forces people to be ever-adaptive as every facet of their daily routine is subject to countless external influencers.  In Toronto, a domestic fight can lead to a distracted driver who runs a light, hits a streetcar and grinds the whole metro system to a halt.  Even a photo in a newspaper can throw one of the most powerful politicians in the country off their routine (Rob Ford = great metaphorical fodder).  Urbanites are intensely inter-dependent in ways most people never even consider, yet there it is. 

At the same time, the diversity of intense urban living provides untold benefits – mass transit, ethnic cuisine, theatre, new business opportunities.  We are willing to take the risks, the lack of individual control over our lives, because in the cost/benefit analysis, the opportunity pros outweigh the adaptive cons, and even the adaptive needs offer room for innovation, which potentially creates new benefits.

That doesn’t mean that there are those who are adverse to change or who see the costs of change as outweighing the benefits – hence, NIMBYism.  Across the board, though, the benefits of dense urban living are enticing; this is why urban growth continues to escalate, globally.

RURAL, ESTABLISHED LIVING

By contrast, small-town anywhere tends to be less diverse and, therefore, more homogeneous – not just in terms of demographics, cuisine or social activities, but even down to routine.  This is a lifestyle that works – the benefits are there, the risks of change are minimal, life is good.  Until, that is, external change forces internal change.

I grew up in Cornwall, Ontario when it was a mill town.  Kids didn’t think it an exciting place to be, though there was some theatre, bowling, the odd festival.  Parents could be relatively assured that their jobs at plants like Domtar were secure and that positions would be there for their kids when the time came.  Routines were pretty established, from family dinners to summer bonfires.  Not much changed, because not much needed to change – until the realities of the global economy came home to roost.  Cornwall is still in the process of adapting to the forced reality of closed plants and unemployment, but it IS adapting.  Part of the process has involved, not surprisingly, diversification – there are new industries popping up and, at the same time, diverse consumption opportunities, too.  Who’d have thought Cornwall would ever have two sushi joints?

Cornwall’s change was met with resistance, yet it undeniably is happening.  The rebirth of Japan was met with fierce, ultimately futile, resistance.  Apartheid didn’t go down quietly, nor did slavery in the United States, although the Civil War was about more than just that.

What we’re witnessing with Ethical Oil is the last forceful gasps of an industry that is losing its hold over the present.  As soon as they started applying the “ethical” descriptor and started pouring vast amounts of resources into mounting an offense, they were done.  This isn’t politics, this isn’t the four-year cycle;  this is a fundamental change in the nature of the fuel that drives our economic engine. 

I don’t expect those behind ethical oil to switch horses mid-stream, no matter how tired their current horse is.  I don’t expect Albertans or Steven Harper to back away from their staunch defence of bitumen.  For their sake, for our collective sake, I hope they spare a few thoughts and a few dollars to what is coming next.  Adaptation, after all, is the key to survival.