The Bold Arrow of Time
Back in September 2021, I produced a panel discussion that included bestselling author Daniel Susskind. He had recently published the provocatively titled book, A World Without Work. It opens with flashback to the past, the turn of the 19th century into the 20th. Ever-expanding cities across the world were faced with a daunting and confounding problem: horseshit was piling up faster than it could be properly disposed of. Millions were flocking to cities all over the country due to their allure of opportunity and possibility. Thusly, the need for more horse and carriage increased in such a way that city planners and officials became gravely concerned that these trends would eventually—and in the relative near term—lead to disastrous results for these new metropolises and their inhabitants. It was frequently cited as the number one concern of locally elected leaders. And then, seemingly overnight, the problem went away. Once automobiles became ubiquitous throughout city streets, the need for the ol’ horse and buggy decreased by over 90%, and consequently everyone’s dire manure problem. New technology: the ultimate problem solver, right? Susskind’s example of the automobile solving the aforementioned crisis was not his point, however. Nor is the arrow of progress mine here today.
The timescale of these leaps forward shrinks with each significant milestone. Perhaps it’s best to take a glance backward, shall we? Sentience sometime around six million years ago. Homo sapiens 250,000 years ago give or two a few dozen decades. Agriculture 10,000. The written word 6,000. Electricity about 200. Atomic energy 75. The Digital Revolution about half that time and commercial AI just LAST YEAR. Our progression is certainly not linear. We race toward a precipice, the razor’s edge of the Great Filter.
No one seems to notice. We’re all glued to our screens and the action of our online avatars. This recent sociological experiment we call social media, coupled with the rise of instantaneous communication devices, has cast a general malaise over us that has plagued our culture for the better part of the new millennium. We’ve all been granted the gift of so much more time thanks to this Digital Revolution and other advances in modern tech. But instead of expanding our reach of curiosity, we spend it with our attention buried into our phones seeking instant gratification. In a world where we can connect with just about anyone, at any time, in any part of the world, we’re more spiritually disconnected that we’ve ever been. Depression is rampant. Deaths of despair (combinations of suicide and drug overdoses) are at an all-time high and increasing. Why? How can this be when life on the aggregate should be easier and more purposeful given our niceties, amenities, and an abundance of time that previous generations could only dare dream?
From my lens so much of this wretched strife stems from blatant ignorance. If everyone were properly taught the context of Homo sapiens’ timescale of achievements and breakthroughs… If everyone were properly taught our place in the cosmos… Knowing this story, inside and out, provides the individual with a true appreciation of who we are, where we came from, and where we could possibly be going. You can at once grasp the uniqueness and preciousness of life. It translates into a wondrous worldview. An informed cosmological perspective helps eradicate all the bullshit, all the noise of the day. If a strong majority of our fellow citizens, brothers and sisters, friends and neighbors effectively became spacewomen and spacemen, then you’d see over half of society’s ills get corrected in a generation or less. And that is the first building block and primary theme that I hope prevails over my soon-to-be released novel, God Bless You, Mr. Trump. ‘Give every child in America the legitimate opportunity to be instilled with a kind Carl Sagan-esque wonder about existence and the cosmos and the corollary will be an explosion in creativity, problem solving, and harmony that will make the Enlightenment look like a mere day at the beach.’
In my story, which is set in the final hours of 2049, every public-school student from the age of six through fifteen, for two weeks every semester, has been taught all things time & space from the best possible, most effective teacher. I believe it to be the antidote to heal us from what will be known as the Terrible Twenties, and it’s the primary reason why God Bless You, Mr. Trump is cloaked in optimism. This is no ordinary book. And this is assuredly no ordinary time. I encourage you to buy the ticket and take the ride.