The Davey Dialogues - An Exploration of the Scientific Foundations of Human Culture. John C. Madden
us badly adapted to life in the large agglomerations of people needed for the efficient operation of today’s societies.
– If what you say is correct, then it seems that you humans are very poorly adapted to your life on Earth. Perhaps you should seriously consider returning to a hunter-gatherer existence.
– An interesting idea and not an original one. It has been tried, but generally speaking the enhancements to survival and happiness enjoyed by mankind in a civil society make the return to hunter-gatherer or even isolated rural agricultural subsistence very unattractive, as evidenced, for example by a flurry of independently conceived communes established by the “hippie” generation in the 1960s, which usually failed, and which have certainly not been widely adopted.
The enduring challenge of designing a social structure that provides the many advantages offered by large societies with resources to spend on a multitude of highly specialized activities tailored to human comfort, security and happiness while still allowing us to live amidst a much smaller tribe, almost certainly numbering less than five hundred people, all of whom we know personally, without dependence on outside assistance or intervention, appears to be a long way from achievement.
What about you, Davey? Do you live in a utopia full to the brim with peace, order and good government, not to mention eternal happiness?
– I think we probably did at one time, but then something happened, and our happy society vanished. We have not recovered from this disaster so far.
– I want to know more. Perhaps there are lessons for us in what you endured. How was your society structured? Were you, too, adapted to live in small tribes, and did you find yourselves forming into much larger social groups in order to enjoy a higher standard of living? And what . . .?
– Peter, stop asking me all those questions! I have already told you that I am unable to answer such questions until I know a lot more about you humans than I now know. It is just too dangerous!
– Well, I certainly hope you change your mind soon. We badly need to find a lasting solution that will permit us to better adapt our society to our instincts, or perhaps, someday, vice versa!
– I think we had better change the subject.
As I mentioned two weeks ago, I have not yet heard a convincing explanation of the function of literature. What is your explanation for what seems to be a widespread addiction to fictional tales?
– Its role seems very obvious to most of us. We simply enjoy a good read. The author may lead us to greater insights into the variability and plasticity of human nature, inform us about the nature of the world around us, make us laugh or cry or feel indignant or disgusted, all without having to experience directly the crises and cares of the fictional characters. It is a wonderfully economical and pleasurable way to learn about life. I understand that you cannot read. Would it help if I acquired some talking books for you and played them on my cassette recorder?
– Perhaps later. For now I would prefer that you give me some examples of good literature.
– Okay. Perhaps we should start with Shakespeare. As you likely know already he is the best-known writer in the English-speaking world, and perhaps the best-known writer anywhere. He provides an excellent example of the sometimes almost magical insight of our great writers into the human condition.
– I think I am disappointed already. As you mentioned last week, it is easy to find people to talk to who, because of their participation in one of the major religions, believe that they understand the meaning of their life. When I approached you, I did so because I thought you would come with a different perspective – not unique, but different from most of the others I am talking to. Now you start by invoking Shakespeare, where they start by invoking Allah or Buddha or Jesus Christ. Is Shakespeare then just another god? You humans seem to have no shortage of gods!
I laughed out loud. I had never before thought of Shakespeare in such a light. I have to admit that there is a sense in which he and his fellow literary greats share with the great religious figures a sparkling insight into human nature, often accompanied by a wrapping of the insights in colourful and commanding language. But Shakespeare as a deity required a bit of more imagination than I could command at such short notice. After laughing, I paused and continued.
– Well, no. Shakespeare is no god, though some would claim that his poetry is divine. His insights are not the product of meticulous science but rather of a keen assessment of everyday human conduct. Indeed, as you likely have already observed, not everyone even admires or likes Shakespeare. Their choices to illustrate the influence and importance of literature would be different from mine.
But let me return to Shakespeare.
Take for example this morsel from Act 1, Scene 1 of Much Ado About Nothing.
Beatrice: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.
Benedick: God keep your ladyship still in that mind; so some gentleman or other shall ‘scape a predestinate scratched face.
Beatrice: Scratching could not make it worse, an ‘tween such a face as yours.
Why is it that both Benedick and Beatrice, each very much in love with the other, strenuously deny that love? Most of us laugh at this point in the play, because we recognize their actions as typical human behaviour. The problem of declaring love is as full of anguish today as it was in Shakespeare’s time.
But why do you suppose this is? Is there some evolutionary advantage to be discerned from such behaviour? Do other animals have similar experiences? Or is the anguish and folderol a necessary by-product of civilization?
And what of the tragedies? Of the “carnal, bloody and unnatural acts, of accidental judgements, casual slaughters; Of deaths put on by cunning and forc’d cause”, as Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet.[5] Crime and wars reported in my time have many of the same elements as those reported by Horatio to Fortinbras in Shakespeare’s play. Are these innate to humanity or simply products of mismanaged civility or malfunctioning minds?
And then there is Polonius’s advice to his son, Laertes, also taken from Shakespeare’s Hamlet.[6] It was part of Shakespeare’s genius that he assigned such wonderful perceptive lines to a garrulous old man. His advice is given while his son is impatiently champing at the bit to leave his father and get to Paris with all its famous and infamous attractions.
As a young boy I was required to memorize Polonius’s speech, and quite a few others, as well. When no one was listening, I would practice reciting the lines in what I imagined was an appropriate manner – chock full of gravitas and sober reflection. You may imagine my chagrin when I went to see the play and discovered that the actor playing Polonius rattled off the lines in a river of careless and swiftly flowing words, stunning the play-goer by the sheer wantonness of inattention to such good lines. Of course, Shakespeare knew well that had those same lines been treated as seriously as I had thought to be appropriate, he would likely have put his audience to sleep!
So, I hope you get the idea that good literature does many things for us humans. It usually amuses and entertains us, but it also informs us about the limits of human experience. It allows us to see and experience vicariously situations that we could not or would not otherwise see or understand.
– That is interesting, I suppose. But I would have thought that sticking to the facts was much more useful. There is usually only one version of the facts, but even I could invent millions of versions of pure fiction.
– Did your superhumans have no literature then? Did they not dream? Did they have no emotions?
– Oh, yes! They had emotions all right. Their emotions were the root cause of their tragic disappearance!
– Surely that can’t be true! Here on Earth our emotions are our guide to survival. Without them, we humans would surely have been extinct long ago.
– That may be true for you humans, but it is not true for my superhumans. Perhaps you will come to understand