In Utero

 

It’s a scary thing sometimes, the world. Wars and rumours of wars. But we should never forget our mothers. Especially now. There seems to be so much extremism on all sides these days. Righteous indignation, increasing polarisation, the obliteration of nuance. We seem to be trapped in our own little bubbles in a world that is increasingly online. Increasingly denatured, bloodless and virtual, fed by a self-reinforcing algorithm curated to make us feel a variety of unsubtle emotions. We’re encouraged to feel rage, disgust, or even morbid curiosity. Anything to keep us clicking, keep us scrolling, until the next dopamine rush or synapse-hijack.

It’s terrifying to consider that our thinking is largely not even our own anymore. It’s a hybrid, hyper-mediated construction designed by billion-dollar corporations and social engineering interests. To my mind this seems to be a perverse, toxic version of paternity. A conquering mindset, not a nurturing one. Not to belabour the point, but this algorithmic version of existence seems to have created a flattened, slightly inhuman affect—part AI, part overstimulated nervous-system. It’s an odd, distinctly twenty-first century malaise. It’s not just apathy, or nihilism. It’s a strange blend of cynicism and innocence.

We’re cynical because we can no longer tell what is real. And with advances in AI it’s only getting harder to distinguish truth from lies, fact from fiction. So much so that the language around those topics is becoming increasingly outdated. A new lexicon is needed, and it will emerge even if it’s by accident. This is the way of societies on the cusp of terrifying, monumental change. So, yes, we’re cynical. Tired, burnt out, overstimulated and distrusting of all forms of so-called authority. Lost, distrustful of our fathers, and craving a connection to our mothers that we seem to have traded away. In this regard we’re incredibly innocent, plunging headfirst into a world we can barely comprehend. A world soon to be filled with technologies we still don’t really understand.

Unless you believe in recurrence, lost advanced civilisations, or time travel—then mankind has never been here before. Not at this exact point, in this exact way. A dangerous threshold between self-extinction and an oncoming digital revolution. Quantum computers, data centres, faster-than-light technologies, interstellar travel. All these things once seemed like science-fiction. But we are already designing and building the infrastructure to make these exotic technologies a reality. Perhaps not globally or commercially. Perhaps not even outside of classified private or military-intelligence circles. But soon, and with an alarming lack of foresight.  

Even with intermittent or partial success—these advances have the potential to alter the course of human development on a long enough timescale. It doesn’t take much. For me, this is why the natural world is more pertinent and necessary than ever. Gardens, forests, parks, rivers and lakes. Green spaces of all kinds. Especially in the cities, but in all places were human and animal life resides. It doesn’t take a genius to realise that we’ve become uncoupled from nature in profound and disturbing ways. Our lack of accountability and oversight for some of the largest corporations on earth is proof enough of this. We’re no longer stewards of the Earth in all the ways we should be.

This vital lost connection to nature isn’t the whole story, of course. It’s also about our humanity in general. Our increasing lack of insight. Our lack of depth regarding empathy, parity, and tolerance. Do we seem like a particularly tolerant species right now? Inhabiting a world filled with genocide, vitriol, and viciousness of every kind? These words aren’t meant to upset or deflate you, my friends. I know how difficult it is to gaze into the abyss. To peer into the depths of a black hole. You can feel hopeless, and powerless. I’m only writing this to make a general point about humanity, nature, and our overreliance on tools. Humans have fashioned tools since the beginning. Tools for action and tools for contemplation. Scientific tools and artistic tools. Spears, knives, bowls, medicines, papers, and ink. Wood, metals, and plastics. With these tools we were able to expand our societies and our collective knowledge.

We survived the agricultural revolution. It gave us grain, a new relationship with the land, and a new ability to harvest and store food en masse. We also survived the industrial revolution too, but with great casualties. Our tools became far more sophisticated, but so did our weapons. Leading to wars and conflicts on a scale hitherto unimagined. In three hundred years—the blink of an eye in geological time—we leapt forward in greater strides than we had done for millennia previously. If you believe the official accounts of accepted history, that is. But what happens when most if not all our tools are digital? Virtual? What happens when Artificial Intelligence has finally crept into almost every facet of modern living? Make no mistake, a digital revolution is coming. We’re in the early stages of it already, and it will continue to gather pace long after each of us currently living is dead.

If iron, steel, and plastic took us to such unimaginable places… if it laid the groundwork for things like electricity, flight, nuclear fission—then where will AI take us? Where will quantum computing, genetic manipulation, transhumanism, and evolving models of higher-dimensional physics take us? What will it lay the groundwork for? There was a time when mankind never imagined flight, the internal combustion engine, or mass-communication. Those things were fantasies and fiction. Sci-fi. But nothing ever stays the same, and it seems to me that Imagination tends towards manifestation over a long enough course of time. What can be imagined can often be achieved with a combination of creativity and the right tools, but those tools can often make us slaves in the process. Beholden, anxious and denatured. So, this is why I reiterate the importance of maintaining a connection with nature and each other however we can.

This connection will look a little different for each of us, depending on our circumstance and struggles. But friendship, faith, and artistic endeavour is a good place to start. These things ground us in the now. In the physical. They reorient us toward one another, and the numinous. Our connection to the natural, the spiritual, and ourselves needn’t be separate relationships. We came from those green places. And it’s to those green places we all return. Mud, rivers, seeds, and stars. We were born in the shared womb of our mothers and the earth. Made in utero, from carbon and water—fed by the light and electromagnetism of our closest star. And we have femininity to thank for that. Our green spaces and secret gardens. We need masculinity too, of course. We need fathers as well as mothers. Truth be told we need both, now more than ever.

This is not a luddite tract, or even a warning about overreliance on technology. This is just a gentle reminder to seek the soft, the nurturing, and the kind. All those things within and without that tend toward healing and growth. In a virtual, plastic, denatured world obsessed with profit-driven incentives, there isn’t much value placed on true paternity. There isn’t much value placed on green spaces either. So, it’s on us. We must be the ones to think beyond counterfeits and colonies. We need to understand the connection between womb and wisdom, seed and star. Our inner lives depend on it. And soon, quite possibly our daily physical lives as well.