Humanity is beautiful, bizarre, and barbaric. Since I am human, I am allowed to make such a delightful and damning statement and I intend to comprehensively prove my assertion ─ but let me first frame the formation of this eureka moment.
During a recent engaging and often chaotic conversation with a friend, I grasped a terrific, yet terrorising, juxtaposition. Humans are brilliant inventors. Our collective ability to improve our lot through remarkable technology is incredible. I am writing this reflection on a laptop. In a distant era I would have used a quill and scribed my thoughts on parchment. Similarly, I frequently used my mobile phone today to call friends and, amongst other things, update my social media accounts. I drove my car to a variety of places and listened to streamed music en route. These beautiful technologies allow me to wrap my work life around the stuff I love – including putting in the miles to pursue supporting my football team, Notts County. How bizarre and insane would it be if I chose to regress and communicate via smoke signals, rather than my handheld device, or chose a horse and trap to traverse the country, or opted to chisel my ramblings into stone using hieroglyphics.
Old technology eventually departs mainstream use and frequently ends up in a museum where youngsters often grin at ancient times when, for example, a mobile phone was as big as a brick. Oldies reminisce at the challenges they faced in their younger days, such as listening to music via a record player and a stack of vinyl discs ─ since replaced by simple streaming. The bottom line is that we super humans have created an upward technology trajectory that means we don’t utilise useless utensils.
On the flipside, humanity seems intent on using old and useless behaviour. Bigotry and bias, division and derision, exclusion and egotism, and the crap that is war and the demonisation of our fellow human beings. How barbaric is that list? And the truth is, we continue to demonstrate these old ways repeatedly. History is positively littered with people doing the most regressive and cruel things. So why do we bin old technology, yet continue to demonstrate outdated behaviours consistently shown to be utterly ineffective?
Cognitive science provides a damning assessment of our ability to learn from our past mistakes. Indeed, the brain is configured in such a way that it is hot-wired to repeat historic blunders. Mistakes aren’t generally scripted that way, especially at the beginning. The clandestine affair you believed no one would ever find out about; drinking from every bottle at the party; setting light to your flatulence; dismantling a table lamp and seeing what happens when you bring together the two wires with the mains on ─ to name but a few that I may or may not have executed at one time or another. When those mistakes commenced they were exciting and unpredictable and caused good Doctor Feelgood ─ dopamine ─ to leach from your command centre. Unfortunately, these later confirmed mistakes are forever associated with pleasure, creating the rudiments of repetition. I’ll let you guess which ones I have duplicated, but I’ll fess up that being close and personal with electricity is one of them.
In a 2016 research paper titled “Haunts or helps from the past: Understanding the effect of recall on current self-control” the research team concluded, “When successes are easy to recall, people display more self-control than when they have difficulty recalling successes. However, recalling failures prompts indulgence regardless of its difficulty.” The arcing of the electrical connectors whilst I still had hold of them, the explosion (that blew the household fuse box), being propelled across my bedroom, and coming to rest with my head crashing against the wall was – when combined – enough of a jolt to steer me away from repeating this mistake ever again; not so for the other clangers. Olga Khazan and Jeremy Raff from The Atlantic Magazine are therefore bang on the money with the assertion that, “If you want to avoid repeating history, it’s best not to try and learn from it.”
Another in-built Homer Simpson attribute is the cerebral process known as post- error slowing. As Roozbeh Kiani, assistant professor of Neural Science at New York University asserts, “Our research reveals that a combination of changes in the brain slow us down after mistakes. One gathers information for the decision to prevent repeating the same mistake again. A second change reduces the quality of evidence we obtain, which decreases the likelihood we will make an accurate choice. In the end, these two processes cancel each other out, meaning that the deliberative approach we take to avoid repeating a mistake neither enhances nor diminishes the likelihood we’ll repeat it.” In summary our own brilliant, dynamic, and imaginative brains have an obvious and deep-rooted Achilles Heel; although, to be fair, I doubt that this newly acquired knowledge alone will allow me to escape the wrath I normally experience when I forget to put the bins out, or where an armed robber is up for their second offence at court (just for the record I haven’t committed any form of robbery).
On a more serious note, the more negative and sinister examples of destructive human behaviour that humankind has repeated throughout the aeons of our existence would appear to be programable certainties. Or are they? Turning to pastor and bible teacher Ron Bailey, I wondered if faith had an answer.
Calmly taking up the challenge Ron provided some much-needed context: “I can’t speak for all ‘faiths,’ but the Christian faith cautions its believers to be ready to give an answer to those who ask a reason, but to respond with meekness, respect, and in good conscience.” Distilled from his interpretation of Peter 3:15 (King James Bible) Ron has a point, even though I hope that the persecution of Christians circa AD65 has lessened considerably in recent centuries. Nonetheless, I understand and fully accept his assertion that he was not seeking to win the argument, or even convert me, but simply taking advantage of the opportunity to bear witness as to why people believe what they believe, even if this often leads to detrimental behaviour.
Ron commenced his pitch. “Everyone has a faith that underpins their thinking. The atheist is declaring, by faith, their conviction that there isn’t a God, in the same way that it takes faith to believe that there is a God.” I paused for a moment to process what he’d said, since on first hearing this appeared to be absurd. But there is no escaping the authenticity of this claim – conviction is the catalyst.
Bringing the conversation back to cognitive science, Ron provided another mind twister: “One of the elements of this discipline is epistemology ─ the study of knowing how we know what we know. The Greek root of this word is the verb pistou: to believe or trust. The noun is pistis meaning trust, faith, and belief. When we say that ‘we know’ how do we know what we know? Or to follow the Greek etymology why do we believe what we believe?” Before I could fully assimilate this mental somersault Ron hit a nerve: “If we pursue your obligatory reference to Notts County (he knows me too well), why do you believe what you believe about the club? What evidence is your ‘trust’ based upon? If there is no evidence, it is not a ‘faith’ but a heartfelt wish.” I had grasped that distinction (and thanked him for his kind wishes during my negotiation of this particularly painful journey), but could he throw any further light on the matter of ‘what now’ and in doing so provide any more certainty on how our subsequent behaviours are shaped?
“There are different kinds of evidence and different levels of proof. The mathematician is proud that their level of proof is the highest. Pythagoras can be tested and proved to be true; there can be no exceptions. Next in line comes scientific proof where a tested theory becomes a hypothesis and when it cannot be disproved it can be regarded as a scientific law. The courts require forensic proof (evidence) that can be accepted without reasonable doubt. Proofs of the reliability of the Bible, I suggest, are more like forensic proofs. I believe them because I accept them as being without reasonable doubt.” I was beginning to form a more cohesive understanding of Ron’s narrative that personal faith is the fundamental foundation underpinning human behaviour; and maybe, without a written guide, the chances of repeating past mistakes were heightened.
Ron continued, “I trust the Bible; that is my starting place. I believed it first because it understood me, long before I began to understand it. As the Old Quakers used to say, ‘it spoke to my condition,’ and over the years I have found its evidence reliable. I’m not saying I have a perfect understanding of all its verses, but I know its overarching themes and they both convince me and thrill me. One of its themes is ‘the good, the bad and the ugly.’ It defines and explains the human condition in a way that sheds its light on so many of those ‘why’ questions. So, what does my faith say to your question? I regard the Bible as a reliable witness, and my instinct is to embrace its teaching even when I still have questions. Questions are legitimate; they are the way we hone our understanding.” In reflecting upon this personal revelation, I have to concede that my most tolerant behaviours were learnt with professional guidance ─ from my teachers at school, to my patient driving instructor, and the commitment of those who mentored me in my professional career as a police officer.
Ron then struck a surprising but reassuring tone: “It teaches that humans were not like this from the beginning. From the earliest parts of Genesis and throughout Israel’s spiritual history, God was working on a ‘damage limitation’ basis until the time of Christ; but that is not the end of its story. The New Testament reveals that through the death, resurrection, and enthronement of Jesus Christ, God has made it possible for humanity to realise a new beginning ─ an authentic change in thinking. The apostle Paul expressed it like this, ‘if anyone is in Christ they become a new creation, old things have passed away, behold, all things have become new.’” He then smiled and emphatically proclaimed, “That’s God’s answer to your question and mine too!”
I started this journey with the assertion that humanity is beautiful, bizarre, and barbaric. Perhaps that definition spoke of my own belief in our species contradictory existence, yet I finish this reflection with a greater belief that I can – at least – seek to moderate my own negative and often repetitive behaviours by seeking counsel from those who inspire. Overall, I believe that I am more good than bad, and although that’s not a bad place to be, I need to listen more to the good people around me. To quote Mahatma Gandhi, “You must not lose faith in humanity.”
© Ian Kirke 2023
Title photograph Photo by Santa Barbara on Unsplash.
@ianjkirke