Tempered optimism
I am by nature, on the whole, an optimist, but optimism is not, or should not be, blind. I don't believe that I will grow younger and live forever in perfect health. I don't expect that I will ever win the lottery because I never buy tickets, and I don't assume that I will ever play a musical instrument without first learning how.
I believe that in many, but not all ways my life will continue to improve, and I'm optimistic that I and my family will continue to enjoy predominantly happy lives. I believe that there will be beautiful sunsets in the future. But if you were to ask me if I expect that our species will survive the next two or three centuries, I must admit that I have very strong doubts. My optimism is tempered by my appraisal of the circumstances of human life as it stands at this point in history.
Having said that, and because I don't wish to be a downer, I must say that I believe that it behoves me to act as an optimist, because the alternative is completely without redeeming features. As I walked on the beach in 28-degree heat, I was thinking these things. As I picked up a shell and considered the life of the miraculous creature that was once its resident, I could not help but think of the fact that the US Supreme Court ruled some years ago that genetic material, and life forms, could be privately owned, and that we are in the midst of an almost invisible gene rush of far more consequence than the Gold Rush.
Still reeling from Diamond v. Chakrabarty a full quarter of a century later, I try not to reel too much as I walk the strand. The piece of styrofoam washing up to shore contrasts starkly with the shellfish pushing through the sand a centimetre beneath the surface. I'm never far in my mind from a debate about whether it is more useful for a writer to inspire or alarm, and I have both elements here with the plastic and the mollusc. I don't particularly mind styrofoam beaing patented and owned by a corporation, but the DNA of a sea snail or a cormorant? I can only speak my truth and call the shots as I see them, and I don't believe the good guys are winning.
Still, as I said, the alternative to behaving as if an optimist is too terrible to contemplate, and besides, I'm well and truly out of practice. Will we make it? Probably not. Should we give our all to save something for our descendants? But of course.
I believe that in many, but not all ways my life will continue to improve, and I'm optimistic that I and my family will continue to enjoy predominantly happy lives. I believe that there will be beautiful sunsets in the future. But if you were to ask me if I expect that our species will survive the next two or three centuries, I must admit that I have very strong doubts. My optimism is tempered by my appraisal of the circumstances of human life as it stands at this point in history.
Having said that, and because I don't wish to be a downer, I must say that I believe that it behoves me to act as an optimist, because the alternative is completely without redeeming features. As I walked on the beach in 28-degree heat, I was thinking these things. As I picked up a shell and considered the life of the miraculous creature that was once its resident, I could not help but think of the fact that the US Supreme Court ruled some years ago that genetic material, and life forms, could be privately owned, and that we are in the midst of an almost invisible gene rush of far more consequence than the Gold Rush.
Still reeling from Diamond v. Chakrabarty a full quarter of a century later, I try not to reel too much as I walk the strand. The piece of styrofoam washing up to shore contrasts starkly with the shellfish pushing through the sand a centimetre beneath the surface. I'm never far in my mind from a debate about whether it is more useful for a writer to inspire or alarm, and I have both elements here with the plastic and the mollusc. I don't particularly mind styrofoam beaing patented and owned by a corporation, but the DNA of a sea snail or a cormorant? I can only speak my truth and call the shots as I see them, and I don't believe the good guys are winning.
Still, as I said, the alternative to behaving as if an optimist is too terrible to contemplate, and besides, I'm well and truly out of practice. Will we make it? Probably not. Should we give our all to save something for our descendants? But of course.
Pip Wilson posted item above at 3:22 PM | Permalink
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