Historical Prescience
Aug 03
future, global problems, history, Marx, philosophy 1 Comment
The majority of non-fiction books are historical: the focus is usually on “proper” history (wars, economic cycles, biographies) or at the very least, the narrative employs past events as evidence in an argument. The past plays a huge role in the way we understand things – we know from experience that touching hot stoves is a no-no or how to swing a tennis racquet to get the right amount of topspin to confound your opponent. Even more telling is how much of our present station in life is determined by past decisions and/or events. Your academic pursuit and interests were sparked by some inspiring high school teacher, the job interview offered because of past successes with previous employers, your support of the local sports team because your parents or grandparents chose that particular city to have a family.
Perhaps more important is the power that history has on our future, as commented by many erudite men and women. George Santayana: Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. Karl Marx: History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce. Pearl S. Buck: One faces the future with one’s past. Maya Angelou: History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.
This essentially forms the basic thesis of Jacques Attali‘s A Brief History of the Future. By examining humanity’s march of progress from the ascent of homo sapiens sapiens to the development of civilization, capitalism and democracy, the French author tackles the 21st century. A modern day Nostrodamus, he bears witness to the fall of the American empire, and predicts three distinct waves of the future: Planetary Empire, Planetary War, Planetary Democracy. These terms should give you an idea of his argument.
Attali paints a dark picture as the path to global peace and harmony is fraught with danger: nation states become paranoid and protectionist. Pirates and corsairs lay siege and inflict terror. Our accepted and practiced models of business will disintegrate. Yet he is an optimist at heart, for as we transcend into transhumanism, society will be built on a foundation of altruism and a global economy flourishes on the good deeds of producers and consumers.
The ideas espoused within these pages aren’t necessarily new but this doesn’t make Attali’s argument any weaker. His outline of the challenges that we’ll face: economic crises, conflict zones, increasing surveillance may be frightening – we’re startlingly close them already. His broad, and albeit simple, strokes for world peace might turn off some readers, but at its core, A Brief History of the Future is a read that boldly stakes a position in uncharted territory.
As much as I enjoyed it, there is a passage that stood out for me. In his description of the wave of Planetary Democracy, he uses the term “collective intelligence.” As a phrase I carelessly throw about in my writing here, it was refreshing to see it clearly defined:
The collective intelligence is not the sum of the knowledge of its members, nor even the sum of their capacities to think: it is an intelligence peculiar to itself, which thinks differently from each member of the group. … All collective intelligence is the result of bridges, of links between individual intelligences, essential for creating the new. (p 272)
That to me is the most fascinating end-goal of our journey through time. Humanity’s greatest gift is the ability to create. When will our collective efforts bear fruit so that we can savour its flavours? When will we see a concerted effort to establish a commons, and a common goal to achieve? If Attali is correct and his particular vision will happen before the dawn of the next century, I shall count myself lucky to behold future’s light.
