Apologies for the possible stream-of-consciousness form of this post.
I’m not sure “romantic” is the word I would use. In fact, I am having trouble articulating the thought exactly. “Honest” comes to mind, but in this sense it feels judgemental, which I do not. It feels silly to say that I have a feeling which I cannot express, and yet this seems to be the case.
It is somewhat paradoxical. I have the ability, in principle, to leave civilization and go live the life I discuss here: there are still such places in the world. But it seems that I would probably not be welcomed; ideas I have about existence are ingrained in me from living in civilized society, and I do not think I could simply turn them away. So I can’t leave, even though I want to.
And I do want to, and so do a few of my friends. Our conversation invariably wanders to the creation of mini-utopias. We discuss buying (jointly) a large house and living in it in a communal manner. We fantasize about winning the lottery and purchasing a small island on which to live as we may without outside influence. But aspects of living in civilization have taken their toll on us (and such a phrasing implies negativity though I do not wish to do so): the pleasures we seek we gain from reading, video games, painting, building things, and so on; all done with the aid of civilization.
It is as if I wish to cut away the uselessness of civilization and take only what matters from it. If civilization were only about microwaves and the internet then I would have no complaints, you see.
I suppose it is a romantic notion, then, as I want the benefits of civilization without the hidden costs. If, when I die, I were to be offered a choice for reincarnation (something I don’t believe in, FTR) as a creature of comfort or a tribesman, knowing what I know now, I am still not certain which I would choose.
This amazes me, as I can see no justification for this emotion. Civilization, in taking care of the little issues, only leaves us with the big ones. It is a complex series of events and estiamtions which lead me down the path I have taken. I have a job which affords me little physical labor, but which does require a high degree of mental labor (I do service work on instruments). Troubleshooting complicated instruments over the phone or on the spot is not an easy task just because I don’t lift heavy objects.
It is the ignorance of the laborer to say that they wish they could sit at a desk all day; it is the ignorance of the desk jokey which causes them to wish for a simpler life (many I have known have, in fact, wished they could just perform menial tasks all day). I am not suited to either; factory work bored me to the point of anguish and apathy, and the work I do now drives me to stress about things even after I am no longer being paid to do so.
The only job I ever enjoyed fully was being a McDonald’s manager. It afforded just the right amount of creativity (in scheduling labor, in setting up your shift, in trying to work in training new people), but never presented such large problems that they couldn’t be solved in the work-day, passed on to others without complaint, or simply forgotten about when I clocked out and picked them up again the next day. The pay, however, never matched the level of skill the job truly requires, and so it remains no mystery to me why fast food workers and managers are usually sub-par examples of the species. you don’t need the best of the best to achieve profits, and in fact you get diminished returns from investment.
And such it is for civilized life: diminshed returns. I would not be fairly rewarded for growth (in my estimation of “fairly rewarded”) and yet I have no room to backslide toward easier work (and still find life worth living).
My solution to this has been to live in fantasy worlds, like books, movies, and video games, or in worlds of no consequence, like internet message boards and creating problems in programming to solve (with no point other than to create and solve them).
For all that, I still feel that simple living is better than complicated living. You could not bribe me enough to be more than I am, because the hidden costs of that material wealth aren’t worth paying, IMO. Yes, we’ve wiped out small pox, only to replace it with epidemics of violence. We’ve prevented many from dying, only to offer them life in relative poverty (I have no sense of absolute value in human terms). And no doubt when we combat those ills successfully a few more will spring up in their place, only those will be even more complicated.
Cancer never affected people before because most people didn’t live long enough or have a lifestyle that afforded cancer. We beat down those little problems and suddenly the larger ones show. It loads the question to ask, “Would you rather have comfort or not?” when that isn’t the only difference between the two worlds. Material goods are a very dim basis for comparison; only die-hard economists and marxists and randistas would appreciate it or consider it a full representation of existence. The question is far more complicated (or perhaps more simple, but for complicated reasons) than that.
What we, as a society, say is so great is what we have to sell; but what we have to offer is not just what we sell. The cost of microwaves and tennis shoes far extends less physical labor and increased chance of survival as a statistical trend. You have less time to enjoy these comforts because the cost of these comforts involves such a complex level of existence that more time is eaten up simply working to have these things.
Fight Club: “Whatever else happens, I have that sofa thing coverend” [possibly paraphrased] Yes, you do. But that was never in question.
In a society that offers things, we judge by what is offered. But that isn’t to say it makes sense to judge all things by what they offer. I believe that I would feel, in a more primitive social setting, that living was my job. Here, I feel like living is what I do so I may have a job. Why I live is no longer even a tautology; in fact, the question doesn’t even seem to matter any longer. You’re right: should I die, the world would go on. This is a plus to you, but a minus to me. In a primitive society, my death would affect everyone greatly. This is a plus to me, and a minus to everyone else? I’m not sure we can use the same equation here (apart from the nonsensical means of me ascirbing meaning to my own death!).
In a society based on sofas, we are offered no other means for comparison; creature comforts become all-encompassing because they are all that can be encompassed. That is too harsh, of course there are other things to life than buying things. But these “other things” seem to be almost impediments to living in civilization. I must “make time” for relationships, or children, or pleasure, rather than those things actually being an integral part of existence. The clear line between business and pleasure, more Fight Club: Who you were in Fight Club was not who you were in the real world.
…
I apologize: I’ve never had to express these things before, it has simply never come up. Something I need to think through more.