Are humans unique?

During the first meeting of a religion class I took in college, the professor asked, “What is the point of a liberal arts education?” None of us students in the room seemed to trust enough in our 18 years of hard earned wisdom to answer the question. We sat in several minutes of awkward silence. We fidgeted and wished we were not in a religion class. Finally, the professor flashed a smile and, to our deep relief, revealed the secret: “The point of a liberal arts education is to be interesting at a cocktail party.” Ha! He was toying with us.

Fast forward ten years to my early days as an assistant professor at Dartmouth College. One of my colleagues from the Philosophy Department was giving an informal lunch time talk on his work in metaphysics. He asked rhetorically, “What is the difference between humans and chimpanzees?”  His answer: “Cocktail parties”.  Laughs all around. Ha! He was being clever with us.

Both of them, of course, were making the same profound point about human uniqueness (and, fittingly, in a way that only a human could).  We live in an era where the connections between the species have captured scholarly imagination. Yet, while the sequence of the human genome and the chimpanzee genome show a suggestive 96% similarity, there are certain behaviors that call into question whether 96% genomic overlap means as much as the numbers suggest it does.

To press the point, a cocktail party necessarily involves fermented grain/fruit drinks and alternatives for those who do not wish to imbibe because liquor is not part of the latest nutritional fad; lots of chit-chat about local goings-on, national politics, social networks, reflections on history and the future, and the latest trends in technology; manufactured clothing that sends all sorts of signals about status and identity; etc. etc. All this to say, the cocktail party is a unique event in the animal kingdom, and for a whole lot of reasons.  It requires technologies, socially complex constructs, temporal displacements, moral judgements and triviality that don’t have obvious homologues among other species. Perhaps there are some analogues, but you have to be seriously creative to believe there is anything close to the cocktail party in the rest of the cosmos. Especially, if the cocktail party is in Hollywood.

Perhaps the time has come to once again, with all due species humility, spend time focusing on what is unique to our humanness. If we are one species among millions, one that is special only by the vagaries of biological complexity or neuronal connections, then, if we are honest, we have no actual obligation to life on the planet, though we may have a self-interested desire to sustain those things that sustain us.

But the “cocktail party” view of things demands more. As many have noted, it definitely would involve an acceptance that humans have a massively disproportionate responsibility to think about the health of the planet, whatever that might mean. This is due to our unique resilience (hence, our ability to disconnect from any particular ecological niche) and our technological prowess (hence, our ability to overcome any particular environmental challenge). But it is more than this. The “cocktail party” crowd cannot help but think in moral terms that go beyond physical survival. The thought goes to “right” and “wrong”, to “who are we?”, to “what are my obligations to the other?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Requiem for Pluto

10 years ago today the International Astronomical Union dealt a death blow to Pluto’s eighty-six year claim to planethood.  The decision was, shall we say, not received well by many Americans, and several state legislatures passed resolutions rejecting it.  The California State Assembly went so far as to call IAU action a “scientific heresy.” (Me thinks,  Assembly members may have a wee bit too much time on their hands).

The ignominious treatment of Pluto was hard to swallow for the the thousands of adults who had been taught, in no uncertain terms, since the 1st grade, that there were 9 planets. Punto.  We were taught that educated folks should know the 9 in order from their distance to the sun. Clever mnemonics sprung up like weeds: “My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas” was a personal favorite.  And “My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine” doesn’t work.

To be fair, the IAU didn’t actually remove Pluto’s planetary status. It just gave him a downgrade to “Dwarf Planet,” a newly-created category to deal with celestial bodies that orbit the sun and are rounded by their own gravity, but don’t have enough mass to share the stage with the Big Eight “real” planets. I doubt the God of the Underworld appreciates that subtle distinction, but then, he is probably also used to such demeaning treatment.

Behind the Pluto brouhaha rests a fascinating reality of the human psyche.  We regularly create categories to make better sense of our world.  The categories become real to us, so real that we take them to be woven into the created fabric of the universe. Challenge those categories and people become unsettled.  They pass resolutions to curb the heresy. But whether Pluto is a planet or a dwarf planet doesn’t have much (any?) affect on our lives. Whether a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable doesn’t change its taste or whether it shows up during the main course or dessert (or on the breakfast plate if in England). Does it makes sense to call a platypus a mammal even though it is the egg-laying outlier to the entire class of Mammalia? They will keep on laying eggs either way.  Yet people become quite animated in their defense of the “real” category to which these things belong even when there are no real stakes involved in the outcome. Curious.

Still, it bothers me that Pluto isn’t a planet anymore.

Why are these shows so popular?

In this new age of stream-able and binge-able TV consumption, I’ve been warned that, to be relevant, I need to tune in (to use an anachronism) to any number of “amazing” shows. Doing my best to move into the 21st century, I’ve actually checked out some of them: House of Cards, Game of Thrones, Mad Men, True Detective, Fargo, Breaking Bad, Black Sails, and others. Some of them took. Breaking Bad was all pleasure. Some of them, not so much. True Detective took too much effort for me to to get invested, even when Matthew McConaughey and Woodie Harrelson were doing the heavy lifting. I only made it through two episodes.

But, of course, this “take it or leave it” attitude is the power of the new culture of TV watching. The networks don’t define what you can watch or when you get to watch it.  And, let’s face it, for people raised on NBC (or ABC, or CBS, or FOX), where ne’er a boob is seen nor an f-bomb dropped, Americans are unrepressing their repression with characters who swear like sailors and sleep around…a lot. A whole lot.

The success of two shows has caught my attention in particular. No, Game of Thrones is not one of them. How could a well-written, well-acted, well-produced, larger-than-life fantasy show not work? The shows I have in mind are Shameless and Californication, which have had surprising staying power. I’ve watched several episodes of both, and I find them (disturbingly) alluring as far as binge-watching goes.

At a superficial level, the shows are very different. Shameless is set against the challenge of the economic uncertainty of a working class family in Chicago. Californication is set against the  against the challenge of meaningful living in the world of Southern California writers, actors, producers and rock-stars.

It is this difference that makes their similarity so striking–they have the same premise.  Flawed people consistently make bad decisions that get in the way of grasping what they desire most. The opportunity for realizing a dream is there, but it always wafts away due to a lapse in judgment. And the flaws that bedevil the characters in both shows are the same–an obsession with getting into the pants of nearly everyone they encounter, drug and alcohol abuse, lack of social filters for the words that exit their mouths, personal pride. The inhabitants of Shameless and Californication have next to no impulse control. They don’t want to harm those that they love, but, seriously, these folks just can’t help themselves.

The spectacle of disaster-episode after episode-is what makes these shows so seductive. It is cathartic to see someone on the screen live out the consequences of character flaws that I share, at least in part, without experiencing them myself. And the vicarious thrill of watching them say things and do things every couple of minutes that are, well, really, really  inappropriate, offers a vicarious thrill for those of us operating in polite society.

But the success of Shameless and Californication is also deeply saddening.  Nearly all of the characters are seeking happiness. All of them believe that happiness exists in faithful, intimate, relationships. Yet all of them subvert that possibility through their own betrayals, stupidity and self-centeredness.