Were Humans Happier as Hunter-Gatherers?

Wildflowers blooming in Albion Basin, Utah

Discussion of hunter-gatherer societies necessarily invites as many questions as it provides answers. In our industrialized, modern societies, we are so far removed from the hunter-gatherer age that it is essentially a foreign concept, despite existing in the shared evolutionary history of humanity.

One of the primary questions that arises in discussion of hunter-gatherer societies is whether we were happier as foragers than as producers of food. This is an idea popularized by such writers as Jared Diamond in his now infamous 1987 article "The Worst Mistake in the History of the Human Race," where he makes the argument that humanity was happier and even, initially, healthier as hunter-gatherers than as agriculturalists. Diamond points out that hunter-gatherers eat a more varied diet than farmers who cultivate only a limited range of crops, which further puts said farmers at risk of starvation if a single crop were to fail.

A question often brought up at this point in the discussion surrounds the notion of leisure time and the subsequent cultivation of arts and literature. Doesn't foraging require a lot more effort and time compared to farming? Studies of modern hunter-gatherer societies such as the Kalahari Bushmen reveal that they actually work less than the average person in an industrialized society: an average of 12-19 hours foraging per week, compared to 40+ hours per week for the standard office worker. We can't say definitively, then, that the works of art and literature that we have today are superior to what may have been produced under a different way of life.

In addition to lengthened working hours, agriculture also led to inequalities in society that were previously few and far between. As Diamond notes, "Hunter-gatherers have little or no stored food, and no concentrated food sources, like an orchard or a herd of cows: they live off the wild plants and animals they obtain each day. Therefore, there can be no kings, no class of social parasites who grow fat on food seized from others." That's a pretty damning interpretation of what might otherwise be called "prosperity."

The notion of hunter-gatherer societies as a sort of golden age of humanity also receives ample discussion from the anthropologist Yuval Noah Harari, in his book Sapiens. 

Harari provides a more all-encompassing view of work, including in his estimate such things as time for domestic chores; cleaning and carrying the kill back to camp after a successful hunt; cooking what has been foraged, fished, or hunted; etc. Still, Harari estimates that hunter-gatherers work only 35-45 hours per week in total, even accounting for all tasks. 

It should also be noted that this is spread across seven days per week; there is presumably no notion of a weekend in a subsistence society. Because things that constitute "work" are more directly linked to survival, it is likewise conceivable that the lines between work and play are more blurred than in our modern societies. Furthermore, assuming nutritional needs are met, this leaves ample time for leisure pursuits such as art, music, and storytelling, or even reading and writing. The limiting factor in pursuits such as the fine arts in a foraging society would appear to be one of mobility – as societal groups continually move to where plants and animals are abundant – rather than time.

Harari also does a deep dive into differences in health outcomes between hunter-gatherer societies and early agricultural societies, noting that life expectancies were low in both hunter-gatherer and early agricultural societies, mostly due to a high child mortality rate. Beyond that, hunter-gatherer peoples lived just as long, had a more varied diet, and generally were less prone to disease than their early agriculturalist counterparts. 

In all, I identified 11 key takeaways from Harari's discussion of hunter-gatherer societies. In much the same way as Diamond's essay, these takeaways largely paint a positive picture of hunter-gatherer societies relative to their agricultural counterparts.

1. Work 35-45 hours per week
2. Hunt approximately 1 in 3 days
3. Forage 4-6 hours per day
4. Better nourished than future peasants/farmers of early and middle ages
5. Greater variety of work than the modern worker
6. Life expectancy was 30-40 due to high child mortality rate, otherwise people lived from 60-80
7. People were more dispersed than in modern agricultural societies and thus not as exposed to disease and did not sustain epidemics
8. Had domesticated dogs (about 15k years ago) but not other animals and so weren't as prone to diseases that originated in modern domestic animals
9. More varied diet than future farmers
10. Farming prioritizes the survival and thriving of the species, not the individual
11. Wheat, sorghum, beans, etc. domesticated Homo sapiens, not the other way around

The points that stand out to me are numbers 5 and 10. The lack of immediacy and variety in our day to day industrialized existence, coupled with the prioritization of the species over the individual, are key elements that plague the modern workplace as well as mass movements such as the effort to address climate change. 

While we all intuitively understand that writing that report, completing those calculations, or serving that next table are the activities that will earn us money and thus the ability to feed and shelter ourselves and our families, there is often times too much distance between the effort and the reward for us to see any direct connection. Aside from generally meeting deadlines and performance requirements, there can quickly emerge an ability and willingness to put off until tomorrow what isn't immediately necessary today. 

And this isn't laziness or a moral defect; it's an understandable malaise that enters our overly-routinized existence. Lacking variety (and in many cases beholden to the interests of Diamond's aptly termed "social parasites"), it can be difficult to summon internal motivation, and we quickly fall to a carrot and stick system of motivation. The carrot, in this case, is earning enough money to maintain your existence. The stick is losing your ability to earn a living.

Through collaborative efforts, we create things like highways, safety oversight boards, and make medical advances that benefit society and the species as a whole. These all undoubtedly raise our collective standards of living, but do they result in a better day to day existence for each individual? It probably depends on which day you ask the question and to which individual, and what, precisely, you mean by "better."

For instance, those same highways that we create that lead to better mobility also lead to negative consequences such as urban sprawl, increased carbon emissions from traffic, and safety issues, both for humans and wildlife. Collectively, emissions from our cars, homes, and factories are making our planet increasingly inhospitable. However, the negative consequence of increasing temperatures is sufficiently far removed (we think) for us to alter our day to day existence and drive less. Perhaps it's even impossible for us to drive less, as we have to continue commuting to our job on behalf of our role in society. The species thrives (for now); the individual languishes, perhaps setting aside his or her personal aspirations in the name of species-wide "progress."

This all begs a natural set of follow-on questions. Why do we view hunter-gatherer societies as less advanced than agricultural societies – primitive even? Do we actually know what "progress" means? Can we say definitively that wonderful works of music, art, and culture would not have arisen under hunter-gatherer conditions, or that our society would not be more fair and free? 

These are, perhaps, unanswerable questions. The only glimpse of an answer I can see is that we – in America, especially – equate "progress" with production, and an agricultural society lays the groundwork for an industrial society which is, by its nature, more productive than a hunter-gatherer society. We see it in the language of our modern society. We are no longer "individuals," but "consumers" in a commercial society. Food and goods have become commodities rather than necessities. 

In the words of the French philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, "It is iron and corn, which have civilized men, and ruined mankind." For agriculture to flourish, "labour became necessary; and boundless forests became smiling fields, which it was found necessary to water with human sweat..." For Rousseau, and perhaps for modern thinkers like Diamond and Harari, "Nothing is more peaceable than man in his natural state..." Perhaps our "natural state," that state in which we would be most gentle – most peaceable – is as hunter-gatherers.

AI Is Here – What Do We Make of It?

Imagine a world where machines can outsmart humans, where robots can do jobs that were once only done by people, where computers can understand and respond to human emotions. This is not a science fiction story, it's the world we live in today. 

Artificial Intelligence is no longer a futuristic concept, it's a reality that's changing the way we live, work, and interact with each other. But as we stand on the brink of a new era, we are faced with a difficult question: should we embrace this new technology and all its benefits, or resist it and risk being left behind? 

The answer is not simple, and it requires us to think deeply about the implications of AI on our society, our economy, and our humanity.

In this post, we will explore the promises and the perils of AI and ask ourselves, "Are we ready to adapt to the new standard or will we ignore it at our own peril?"

What if I told you the introduction above was generated by the ChatGPT language model from OpenAI? How does that make you feel? Are you impressed? Feeling duped?

Let’s take a look at another application of AI. Here, we see an AI playing a simple enough game: tic-tac-toe. 

AI is remarkable in its ability to replicate tasks and function within a pre-programmed set of rules. With neural networks and learning algorithms, AI can even take in operational information and improve upon its own algorithms. 

However, what happens when we don’t provide AI with sufficient guidelines? As you see here, the AI "thinks outside the box" and completes the task in an unanticipated – and incorrect – manner. It is the unanticipated aspects of AI that warrant further consideration rather than just blind adoption of the technology. Countless movies warn us of the malevolent possibilities of AI, from iRobot, to Terminator, to 2001: A Space Oddyssey.

Despite such cautionary tales, AI is already prevalent in a lot of our existing technologies. For instance, a simple application is the spam filter within our email inbox that saves us from the tedious task of sorting through unwanted emails – however imperfectly, as anyone who has ever received an email explaining how they’ve just won $10,000 from a foreign prince would know. 

Another common and increasingly common application of AI is in natural language processing. Think of helpful – or otherwise – chatbots on sites like Amazon or any other online retailer. A more cutting edge application of natural language processing is in software that analyzes both voice and text data – think calls or emails – and pulls out key points to summarize for business use.

Finally, facial recognition has been a growing use of AI over the past few years. Anyone who has recently flown through a major airport has probably encountered the facial recognition screens at the security checkpoint.

This is just a small sample of already functioning AI applications across many industries. Actual uses, both current and future, are nearly limitless.

Let's address the current climate surrounding AI with a quote from William Gibson, one of the most influential science fiction authors of the last century and the man credited with coining the term "cyberspace." His writing has focused on the intersection of technology and society. 

“The future is already here – it’s just not very evenly distributed.”

What a succinct way to summarize the current situation. Which brings us to the main idea of this post: embracing or resisting AI. 

A historical example that provides reasons we should embrace new technologies is that of the automobile. When the "horseless carriage" first came on the scene, it was met with skepticism and resistance from many, but ultimately the automobile brought significant change to society, the economy, and the way we all live our lives. 

The same can be said for AI and its potential to change how we work, communicate, and access information. The fears people had about change, potential loss of jobs, and general uncertainty with the introduction of the automobile were valid, but were alleviated by the increased mobility it brought about. Given enough time, we have come to see it as essential to daily life.

On the cautionary side of the scale, consider a cautionary thought experiment. Performance enhancing drugs are not currently allowed in any major sport – though that doesn’t mean they haven’t been used by a few illegally from time to time – think MMA, baseball, cycling. 

The question is what would happen if performance enhancing drugs were ever legalized in competition? There would be some who would refrain from using PEDs for moral reasons or to protect the integrity of the sport, but if a not insignificant percentage of competitors began to use such drugs, it would really only be a matter of time before you had to either join in or be left behind. Despite the headlines and scandals of doping in cycling through the years – and the continued illegality of the practice – an estimated 20-90 percent of professional cyclists still use PEDs. Clearly, the potential advantages are just too great to pass up for many competitors.

Might AI present a similar conundrum in the everyday workplace?

This topic has increasing relevancy because of its increasing ubiquity in our everyday lives. AI language processing and machine learning has now progressed to the point where it is allowing for the automation of legal research, the research and writing of essays indistinguishable from human-generated writing, predictive text like you see on your phone when typing out a text, and translation of complex texts.

Less than a decade ago, the conversation around AI and machine learning focused on the potential for displacement in industries such as truck driving, taxiing, and even aviation. Now, it seems, the AI industry has its sights firmly set on white collar positions. With the growing sophistication of services such as ChatGPT to research and generate original text, it isn't a leap to consider language processors generating copy, slogans, content, and other traditionally creative outputs. 

AI image generators are also generating buzz as we consider the possibility of displaced artists and photographers. Even engineering isn't immune, where improving machine learning algorithms can literally mean that a coder writes code that displaces him or her from their own position. In the civil engineering world, AutoCAD Civil 3D now has a grading optimization feature that uses automation to take a first pass at optimizing the cut and fill balance of a site.

Clearly not all of these advances represent replacement-level technology. Many applications for AI software will occur as supplements to daily tasks, such as in the grading optimization example where an experienced engineer will still complete the detailed grading of the site. Similarly, content generation from AI may simply function as a starting point that generates discussions from the marketing department about which path to pursue.

But what if we start seeing ubiquitous AI content on the internet? What if an AI-generated image wins an art contest – as one did at the 2022 Colorado State Fair – over deserving human-made pieces? Should we be required to disclose this information or create a separate division? Should we require that AI-generated content carries some sort of identifier? If we can't even tell that it was artificially generated, some will argue, then what's the issue?

These are questions that we must confront in the coming decades. Clearly AI is here and – like doping in cycling – it is here to stay. We must collectively decide how to retain and protect our unique creative spaces and abilities as humans while embracing AI technologies where they legitimately make life simpler or easier. The key will be to make AI work for us and – unlike in so many science fiction films, to one degree or another – avoid becoming subservient to it.

What Action Looks Like, or Why We Don't Do Anything Anymore

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Let's talk about language. This necessarily requires a disclaimer: I'm not an English major, I studied engineering and climatology. However, it's not so much the intricacies and structural aspects of language that I'm after. Rather, I want to talk about the proliferation of our use of nouns as verbs, a process known as verbification. (And yes, I fully appreciate the irony of the word "verb" being turned into a verb.)

I'm not a Luddite of language. Language changes and evolves over time, often in helpful ways. Words come and go, get adapted to our changing needs, fall out of use to promote a more just society, and so forth.

But sometimes changes in our language indicate something else is going on. Language reflects culture at large, and in this current cultural moment, perhaps we are "verb-ifying" our language because we don't actually do anything anymore. The verbification of the word becomes a stand in for the action itself.

The cascade began with "texting" and "google-ing." These uses streamlined our language and made a fundamental sort of sense. It is much more fluid to say that you "googled" something, rather than to wade through the unwieldy construction of "I conducted a google search," or "I searched for it on google." (I am omitting capitalization to reflect the use of google to refer to online search in general, rather than the specific use of the Google platform. See how language reflects our larger culture?)

But the story now is changing. Adulting. A new way to Chipotle. Dialogued. Venmo me. Summer safely. This is how you money. For the most part, these new verbifications seem to fall into the realm of cheeky taglines, clever marketing, relatable phrases that will stand out in the ever-expanding competition for our attention. In fact, the first link of Google search (as of this writing) turns up an article citing the (dubious) claim that our attention spans are shrinking and the subsequent challenges that alleged phenomenon poses for marketers. I would argue instead that we are still able to sustain attention just fine, but that there are ever more competing claims being made on our scarce attention. 

Enter in the verbification of words. In a world where competition for attention is being ramped up, individuals seek ways to distinguish themselves from the crowd and companies seek ways to better engage with potential customers. It's done in the name of individualism, being a trend-setter, or being cute. But really, it's just sad.

Follow me. Ok, I get it. Follow is actually a verb. Jesus even exhorted people to follow him. But Jesus's invitation entailed actually doing something. Now? Just a click or a tap. And you've "done" it. And herein lies the problem for modernity. A search of verbified words turns up several webpages guiding one in the practice or explaining its history; other search results offer an indictment of the practice. I, however, want to examine instead what the practice says about us from a broader standpoint.

Much has been written about how much activity – and rest – was involved in a standard day for our ancient hunter-gatherer ancestors, notably by Yuval Noah Harari in Sapiens. Movement and action were indelible parts of the hunter-gatherer's day. If one didn't move, one didn't eat or survive. 

Contrast this with our modern day experience where one needn't leave the house for days on end. Food, groceries, gadgets and items from Amazon and the like, and all manner of things can be ordered and then delivered right to our doors with only a few keystrokes on our part. This is undoubtedly helpful when we're sick and need or ought to stay in; it is not my intention to demonize modern conveniences. 

But beyond those rare circumstances, it is simply a form of luxurious convenience that allows us to reap rewards without consideration for the true cost of our lack of action. Inaction is not quite the right term to describe this phenomenon since an outcome is actually being produced, so let's instead call it "un-action." Such un-action results in isolation from others, treats the underpaid people involved in the delivery industry with indifference at best and contempt at worst, has a negative impact on the environment, and requires no meaningful effort. There can be no sense of accomplishment when one has, in fact, not actually done anything. Even for those of us in white collar professions, most of our day is spent clicking, typing, and moving virtual objects about on a screen. 

There is a counterculture, however, that would have us take back our sense of accomplishment, and a long list of articles examining the joy and mental health benefits of the flow state that can be achieved while working at a self-determined physical task. From Shop Class as Soulcraft to the classic Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, we humans seem to know intuitively that joy awaits us when we are allowed self-determinacy and when we work with our hands. The human body evolved to move, and we are denying our bodies a core part of being when we cease to do physical things. 

I think that we sense – subconsciously, at least – that action is missing from our lives. So we create it with our language. We verbify words and allow ourselves to be sucked into the digital vortex and we convince ourselves that we are ok with it. Our capitalist system then embraces the trend and jumps on board with verbified advertising, as with the Chipotle example above (not to mention countless others). 

But what if we could push back? Set down the phone; walk to the store; interact with other people; cook at home; garden; make something; do art; go for a run; find rejuvenation for your body and mind through movement. It will take a conscious effort, but it just might be necessary. Better yet, it just might be an action worth taking.

Ocean Exploration via Biomimicry

 

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In a previous post, we examined the benefits of design inspired by the principles of biomimicry. As a reminder, biomimicry is the practice of observing and then mimicking nature as a way of finding innovative solutions to human problems. Nature has often optimized solutions through many millennia of natural selection at work. Our task, then, is to take these solutions that are readily available and find ways to tweak and apply them to human problems. One such example that I want to explore is that of deep sea exploration.

The deep sea and the sea floor are the last (macroscopic) frontiers on earth. By some accounts, more than 80% of the oceans and sea beds remain unexplored and unmapped. To gain an idea of the complexity of the issue, we should start with a little history of ocean exploration. 

In the United States, the first coastal survey was performed beginning in 1807 after the authorization of the Coast Survey by President Thomas Jefferson. It wasn't until 1840 that Sir James Clark Ross of England took the first deep sea sounding in the south Atlantic. The Gulf Stream, a key factor in the moderate temperatures of western Europe, was finally mapped in 1860 following a 15 year mapping project by the US Coast Survey. Ocean exploration and our understanding of climate goes hand in hand, as the oceans act as a great moderator of the climate that we experience due to the high heat capacity of water.

From 1872-1878, the first modern bathymetric map was created following soundings taken by the Coast Survey in the Gulf of Mexico. Fortunately for us in the modern world, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) now produces an online and interactive bathymetric data viewer. It allows a user to delineate and download a digital elevation model (DEM) of the ocean floor as measured by sonar and lidar (pulsed laser measurements).

Following the early creations of bathymetric maps from high-density soundings, ocean research in the following several decades continued primarily through depth soundings, dredging of the sea floor, and temperature measurements. It wasn't until the 1920s that radio acoustic ranging came on the scene and more modern methods were developed in subsequent decades, such as sonar and, in the past two decades, lidar. To underscore the difficulty of comprehensive ocean exploration, then, it has only been in the past century that we have been able to take electronic measurements and only for the past several decades that we have been able to do so at scale. This setup helps to explain the current paucity of knowledge regarding the oceans, particularly the vast space been the surface and the floor. 

The above methods all represent remote ways of measuring the ocean. Sending a craft, especially a manned craft, is far more difficult due to the immense pressures reached under even a couple thousand meters of water. From the 1930s, we have been sending humans to increasing depths in increasingly rigid and thick-bodied diving craft. In 1960, the manned Trieste bathyscaphe reached the bottom of the Mariana Trench in the Pacific Ocean, a depth of over 10,900 meters (over 35,800 feet). In keeping with design principles of the time, the Trieste had a 5-inch steel wall around the pressure sphere, a small plexiglass observation window, and a thinner exterior steel wall to contain the float liquid used for buoyancy. 

Our design principles for deep sea diving may be changing, however, as a team of researchers from Zhejiang University in China demonstrated in a 2021 paper in the journal Nature. The team designed an un-manned diving craft using principles inspired by the soft-bodied hadal snailfish. This translates to a diving craft design with a silicone body and dispersed electronics, thus allowing the electronic components of the craft to be spread out in the silicone body and not require the pressure resistance that a centralized system would necessitate. 

This approach allows the robot to operate as a deep sea organism does, with its body flexing and responding to changes in pressure, but remaining pliant enough to not be crushed by the immense pressures. The robot is propelled by electrical signals that convert into mechanical energy and induce a flapping motion in the "fins" of the craft. Think along the lines of how the electrical current makes Batman's cloth cape rigid in Batman Begins.

The robot was subsequently tested in the South China Sea to a stated depth of 3,200 meters and was later tested in the Mariana Trench, though the final achieved depth was not stated. And while it is noted that the propulsion system needs some fine-tuning (ocean currents can pose a problem for the device's limited mobility), this is undoubtedly a step in the right direction, one inspired by simply observing and mimicking organisms in their natural environment. 

The potential advances we may discover lurking in the depths of the oceans provide more than enough motivation to continue this biomimicry-inspired research, whether we ultimately make breakthroughs of a medical, energy, or as yet unknown origin. This is research that allows us as humans to Seek what can be, something that we here at Deliberately Aimless certainly support (more on this in a future post).

For full details of the research, read the press release from Nature here.

A Brief History of Questions

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→Introduction

Mr. Hawking comes oh so close to connecting the dots in his book A Brief History of Time, but seems to narrowly miss in the end. To many readers I have just uttered blasphemy and overstepped my bounds, but allow me to explain myself. I don't claim to understand the science he puts forth. What may separate us commoners, though, is our willingness to admit when we simply don't understand something, which Hawking seems unable to do. He at least asks the right question, which is more than can be said for most who attempt to voyage through this particular rabbit hole. And what is that rabbit hole, you might well ask? It is the all-consuming question of “Why?” If we are honest with ourselves, we find that this is in fact the only question really worth asking, and perhaps the only question that doesn’t have a tidy answer.

Perhaps you’re still in the dark; let me explain. “Why?” questions the meaning and purpose of our very existence. By this point in history, ample scientific theory explains how we came to be, providing a quite convincing timeline to answer that question.

 

It is widely understood that carbon is the basic building block of life. Humans have a not insignificant carbon content, though it may be disguised via various molecular connections with other elements forming compounds in our chemical makeup. Every living thing has some level of carbon content. You’ve likely heard that the carbon that allows for our existence came from the stars, ergo, we really are composed of star dust. This is perhaps not entirely accurate, though not necessarily inaccurate, either. Sort of imbues our existence with a special significance off the bat, no? These stars, in turn, received their makeup from the material generated at the purported beginning of the Universe, the Big Bang. It is ironic, then, that a carbon compound, carbon dioxide, is proving to be a thorny issue for the planet, but that’s a discussion for another time.

It is widely accepted that life has grown increasingly complex and sophisticated over billions of years through the process of evolution. We could dive into Darwin’s theory of natural selection, the idea of random mutations, and so forth, but I think you get the idea. These theories all explain the question of how we came to exist. Yet none of them even touch the surface of why we exist. That’s what I want to tackle in this brief article using Hawking's timeless book as our guide.

→The Thorny Notion of Providence

I will now proceed to the question of God – as I inevitably must – and seeing as it comes up so much throughout Hawking's own work and must therefore have a prominent role in this analysis. Those of us who are of a spiritual nature – which is to say, all of us, in some form or another – generally believe that our purpose is derived from God (whatever divinity, higher power, being, or mystery you may believe in), and that God imbued meaning in all of Creation. In so believing, we don’t have to look far to find meaning in the world around us. While I don’t expect that a mere article will convince you of this if you don’t already believe it to be true, I do want to examine the false dichotomy in which science and spirituality are always placed when examining this question. I believe the two fit quite well together, and are not diametrically opposed as they are often made out to be.

For instance, I see no incongruity between the scientific description of the origin of the Universe and the Creation story presented in the Bible, so long as that story is rightly understood to be an allegory or metaphor. It seems perfectly logical that God (or, again, some higher power or being) set in motion the Universe that we see today by making use of the mechanisms that we are only now coming to describe with physics. It also seems odd to me that scientists look at proofs of evolution, and conclude that that must necessarily mean that there is no God. It seems only natural that evolution is yet another mechanism which God used to achieve Creation.

Hawking unfortunately borders on such egotistical boundaries as thinking that increasingly accurate scientific theories somehow preclude the existence of God. And he isn’t alone in this line of thinking, as Carl Sagan says as much in his introduction for the book. I have a great deal of respect for both Mr. Hawking and Mr. Sagan and their innumerable contributions to science. Unfortunately, I think they lack a similar respect for the ideas of a person of faith. Or perhaps they don’t understand that which they claim to be false, as each tries to put God (and even transcendentalism – that is, seeing divinity in everything) in a box, as though the divine were finite and subject to the same physical laws that limit humanity. 

Following is Sagan’s closing line of the introduction: “And this makes all the more unexpected the conclusion of the effort, at least so far: a universe with no edge in space, no beginning or end in time, and nothing for a Creator to do.” Such hubris! Considering a notion of divinity that is limitless, without beginning or end itself, I don’t know how Mr. Sagan can conclude that the Universe must be independent of any greater force simply because it appears to have no definite beginning.

→A Description of the Universe

Following the introduction, Hawking provides a fairly dense description of the Universe as we currently understand it to function. He describes the contributions of various scientists and mathematicians through the ages and the various theories they developed which advanced the state of the science. We are treated to a discussion of the theory of relativity, the relationship between space and time, and an introduction to elementary particles. Hawking even at one point describes such things as virtual particles.¹ As an aside, while I am perfectly willing to accept the existence of such particles, it is ironic that Hawking is so willing to accept a particle which cannot be detected, yet is at best ambivalent, at worst dismissive, of the notion of God.

After introducing us to the general workings of the Universe, Hawking then leads a discussion on black holes. It is a fascinating discussion, though most of what is “known” is theoretical, and to some degree speculative. Owing to the infinite gravity found within black holes, it would be nigh impossible to directly record data at or within the event horizon, let alone to transmit this data back into space. As Hawking puts it, “One could well say of the event horizon what the poet Dante said of the entrance to Hell: ‘All hope abandon, ye who enter here.’”²

Having thoroughly described the inner workings of black holes, Hawking proceeds to the most important section of the book, as he writes at length on “The Origin and Fate of the Universe.” Hawking proceeds with a questioning of why we should be able to understand the Universe as it is now, but not necessarily be able to apprehend its initial state or "boundary conditions" or the reason that it was so. Lacking a satisfactory answer, he concludes that, due to the anthropic principle, "We see the universe the way it is because we exist."³ 

Throughout the discussion of the origin of the Universe, Hawking makes allowances for the existence of an omnipotent being only when all other avenues have been exhausted, and seems to confuse the notion of improbability with impossibility. For instance, given that we don't know the boundary conditions at the start point of the Universe, it makes sense to ask whether the Universe even had a beginning. If it has no beginning, perhaps it also has no end. In the words of Hawking, "...it would simply be. What place, then, for a creator?" And my question to Mr. Hawking is this: Is this not a description of the divine itself?

→Time Itself

Following this, Hawking proceeds with a fascinating discussion of "The Arrow of Time." For instance, the no boundary (or, at least, unknown boundary) conditions described above imply that the Universe might very well be in continual cycles of expansion and contraction. It stands to wonder why humanity should appear in the expansion phase rather than the contraction phase.⁴ 

Hawking demonstrates that intelligent life can only occur during the expanding phase of the Universe because of the strength of the arrow of thermodynamic time. Intelligent life relies on principles of order and disorder, for instance, in how humans consume food and convert it to energy. This is an example of using energy to create order from chaos. We thus could not exist in a contracting state in which the thermodynamic arrow is either in reverse or when the Universe is already in a state of complete disorder.

A state of complete disorder roughly approximates where we end our quest for the answer to the question "Why?" if we do not allow for the existence of something greater than ourselves. It seems that Hawking knows this to be true, but can't quite allow himself to state it plainly. Hawking allows that many things are uncertain, as described by the Uncertainty Principle in quantum mechanics, which states that we can only observe either the position or direction of an elementary particle, and that the very act of observation will change the result. 

Perhaps uncertainty is God in Hawking's reckoning. Hawking best sums it up when he writes, "The usual approach of science of constructing a mathematical model cannot answer the questions of why there should be a universe for the model to describe."⁵ Indeed, a model cannot describe why the thing which it attempts to describe should exist at all. We must allow for a little mystery. We must allow that we simply do not know.

Footnotes

¹ Chapter 5 of A Brief History of Time

² Chapter 6 of A Brief History of Time

³ Chapter 8 of A Brief History of Time

⁴ Chapter 9 of A Brief History of Time

⁵ Conclusion of A Brief History of Time

Stories of the Nature of Cities

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What follows is a flash fiction story that I wrote for a project called "Stories of the Nature of Cities," with a vision of what cities will look like in the year 2099. The focus of the project is, of course, on transdisciplinary thinking and efforts to make for a more connected and greener city. More about the project can be found on The Nature of Cities website. 

Whether the global pandemic of 2020 casts any doubt on the viability of cities is undoubtedly a concern, but it seems that that is where further innovation can come into play to make cities feel safe to the masses and allow them to continue to thrive. Density, previously a key selling point of cities, is naturally considered less than ideal in the midst of a pandemic. But, one could argue, perhaps it is also this same proximity that has allowed us to build the institutions that we have that have led to the relatively quick rollout of a vaccine. 

Cities are, without a doubt, hubs of innovation. But in the following flash fiction story, I focus on a simpler version of a city. One that is smaller, and based on communal cooperation and mutual care and trust. A community and society that promotes the common good, while maintaining concern for the individual, is one we can all get behind. The fictional story that follows is one that I feel epitomizes the type and quality of life we aim to promote here at Deliberately Aimless. Welcome to the notion of SimpliCity, otherwise known as Peace River.

→Peace River

Diana watched from under her visor as the green leaves fluttered in the breeze above her. She took a spade from the wheelbarrow next to her, relishing the feeling of its wooden handle in her grasp. This tool allowed her to cultivate both her own food as well as an intimate relationship with the natural world, an experience she realized she shouldn’t take for granted. It was only a short while ago that people had little contact with nature; a sizeable portion still didn’t. In humanity’s quest to eliminate hardship and effort, it had unwittingly removed purpose from life. As Diana saw it, many in the mid-century period became shells of their former selves, having no physical concerns, and thereby no connection to their bodies, to nature, to each other.

But things were changing. On the eve of the 22^nd century, there was a movement by a significant portion of the population to re-establish the small town, to leave behind the concrete jungle, the overcrowding, and the desultory life. Many would choose to stay in the still-growing cities, for the convenience; others desired something more: to know Mother Nature.

With this aim in mind, Diana had moved to Peace River, high on the Canadian prairie, a year ago. When she arrived, she hadn’t witnessed a utopia in action; pursuit of utopia had made the megacities what they were. Neither were these remote communities communist. They still operated under capitalist principles, but not the capitalism that you and I know. Currency existed and people held occupations, sure, but interest was not earned on loans and wealth was not created simply by manipulating markets. The towns operated under the not so radical idea put forth by Solomon in Proverbs, that “dishonest money dwindles away, but he who gathers money little by little makes it grow.” In fact, this described much of the outlook of how the town operated as a whole, not just as pertains to commerce. Nature, too, was something to be used little by little, as needed, but not without tender care.

Diana had found employment as a journalist, covering the goings-on in the town of about 7,000. She enjoyed riding her bicycle to her appointments, the global warming of the past century having made the winters of the northern prairies more tolerable. Most of the town’s residents commuted by bicycle, much as the Dutch had used to do before rising seas had forced many of their number into the megacities. Life moved at a slower pace in Peace River, and the residents subsequently found themselves without regular need of automobiles. A train line ran once daily to Edmonton, and a city-subsidized rental facility allowed residents to rent autonomous cars on an as-needed basis.

Digging the nose of the spade into the soil, Diana upturned a small amount and deposited the potato tuber, covering it back over. She trenched a line about thirty feet long, and continued planting about every twelve inches. Finishing, she tossed the spade into the wheelbarrow and pumped some water from the nearby well into her bottle, savoring the fresh taste as she drank it down. Northern Alberta had outlawed the use of pesticides nearly eighty years before, and all cities had moved to grey water systems, to reduce the amount of waste entering streams. In that time, the groundwater tables had begun to recover, in terms of both quality and quantity. The installation of bio-swales and permeable pavement throughout town had also helped with the infiltration of rainwater and snowmelt, intercepting portions of it before it could runoff into the river, where it would become “lost” due to salinity when it entered the sea, until such time that it precipitated over land again.

Which reminded her that she needed to meet Tom back at the house to have him check the pressure in her front room radiator. She walked round to the front just as he was riding up. He leaned his bicycle against her wire fence, and she led him inside. A socialite, Tom explained as he set to work. “I see you have the newer units with the gridded folds to maximize surface area. That helps with efficiency. So what seems to be the problem?”

“It’s been emitting a high-pitched sound when it runs. I’m worried about the pressure since we run recycled water through them these days.”

“Understandable, don’t want to have that sort of mess to clean up. Again, it’s more efficient to run re-used water through, but I understand the concern.” Tom made quick work of it, replacing a fitting and O-ring, and was soon on his way.

“Thanks, what do I owe you?” Diana asked as he headed down the steps.

“Nothing, it’s part of your community fees. The city, which is to say the people, take responsibility for all municipal water services, even into the house. Have a good evening.”

Diana liked Peace River. It was small enough that she could know people and be known. Yet it wasn’t a cult; no one was forcing her to be there. Should she ever desire to return to the hustle and bustle of the megacities, she could. It was just last week she had visited her brother in Calgary. And, in fact, she still held investments in some of the larger companies of the world at large; ties and communications still very much existed to the so-called “outside world.” But at the moment, she found it difficult to envision a scenario in which she would return to that world. The pace of life in Peace River was slower, the people friendlier, her career less stressful, and the town better connected with the lifeblood of humanity, which is to say, nature. Diana had rediscovered the joys of physical nature, better understood her own nature, and felt a peace and connectedness which she knew gave life to her body and to the world.

A Primer on Biomimicry

http://www.drawingsofleonardo.org/

If we are so out of balance with nature, how can we hope to get back into balance? There is, of course, no single answer, but there are places from which to start. Biomimicry is one of them.

For those unfamiliar, let us start with a definition. Biomimicry seeks to mimic the design of biology to solve problems. It attempts to imitate nature's solutions to common issues, whether of transportation, water storage, physical movement, etc. 

Some simple, common biomimicry solutions are already in widespread use and have been for some time. These come to us from the civil engineering industry, where engineers have long used berms, erosion-resistant plants, and boulders to slow the flow of water and limit erosion. 

We see in nature how scree and rocks on a mountainside stabilize the slope and limit erosion, and we apply this principle to slow the flow of runoff from rainstorms in open channels and culvert outlets. Hardy native grasses serve not only as food sources for ungulates, but as drought-resistant coverage that protects the land, as those who lived through the Dust Bowl found out first hand. Engineers use similar hardy grasses to stabilize slopes and prevent erosion from both wind and water.

While not commonly considered in this manner, we also use a form of biomimicry in our systems of motion. Consider the repetitive vertical motion of pistons in an engine or the repetitive circular motion of bicycle pedals. These repetitive motions used to propel us forward are reminiscent of the motions of a hummingbird's wings, which generate lift in both the forward and reverse motions. Similarly, consider how we use specialized shoes that clip to the pedals of a bicycle in order to mimic this principle and generate power with both the upward and downward movement of the leg. 

We also mimic the flight produced by larger birds' wings in our design of airplanes, particularly those large predatory species like hawks that make use of their speed and the leading edge of their wing to generate and maintain lift. The very same happens as air flows across the rounded leading edge of a fast-moving airplane wing. This works for these larger birds, and consequently for airplanes, because of their thicker and more robust wings as compared to those of a hummingbird. It allows for a more efficient motion which requires less energy to maintain. 

But there is room for improvement. Our cars and planes operate, for the most part, by burning fossil fuels for their energy source, rather than the biological conversions of energy that inherently are used by birds for flight. Our model is unsustainable. Recent inroads have been made in the field of electric aircraft, however. And we are getting more efficient at capturing the sun's readily available energy and converting it to a usable form, as trees and plants do to sustain their very existence. 

As is often the case in the doings of humanity, economics plays a role in our slowness to move toward sometimes obvious, but potentially more difficult, solutions. Progress is being made in reducing the cost of solutions such as solar energy and making our systems for accessing and storing these readily available energy sources more efficient. Due to advances in technology, subsequent reduced costs, and adequate investment, the world's use of solar energy grew by 300 times between 2000 and 2019. Other renewables also saw tremendous growth, driven both by economics and necessity as awareness of the current climate situation increases.

Ample subsidies are provided to the fossil fuel industry, and the cost of us driving our cars is even subsidized by the subsequently lowered fuel prices that we see at the pump: it becomes a positive feedback loop that promotes further use of our inefficient vehicles. In turn, this feedback loop leads to negative outcomes beyond climate issues, including degraded health due to poor air quality. 

We could spur further innovation by providing subsidies of similar magnitude to the renewable energy industry. And we must be patient in this process, as we also must allow adequate time and investment for our energy grid to be updated and adjust to storing and distributing energy from renewable sources. Priorities are shifting, but the overall investment in renewable energy sources still lags that of fossil fuels, especially when considered in the historical aggregate. Investment in renewables is an investment in biomimicry, in powering our society with the methods and materials that nature has amply supplied. 

Biomimicry is inherently sustainable. And the applications of biomimicry principles are limitless: from studying nature for solutions to prosthetic limbs, to dealing with the waste of food due to spoilage, to addressing energy needs, to developing innovative ways to collect and provide clean water for a more equitable world. There is no limit to what we can learn from nature. And we learn best when we listen and observe. So let's observe, and start putting to use what we've learned.

A Primer on Climate

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How at odds are we with nature? What a question to ask. Quite. And bad things happen when we get out of balance with nature. 

The Dust Bowl. A decade of repeated drought events. Poor soil management. Non-existent crop rotation. The ripping up of sod on a scale unmatched. We simply asked more than the land could give, year after year, and the land lashed out. And recent research has shown that current elevated carbon dioxide levels make an occurrence like the Dust Bowl twice as likely.

Deforestation. The World Bank estimates that roughly 500,000 square miles of forest were lost between 1990 and 2016. For comparison, that's about 90% the size of Alaska. Wow. And harvested trees release stored carbon into the atmosphere, exacerbating the current runaway atmospheric carbon content issue.

Rising sea levels. According to satellite data, sea level in 2014 was 2.6 inches above the 1993 average, the earliest comprehensive satellite data that we have. Yes, 2.6 inches seems small to me, too. So let's examine that in further detail.

Picture an acre. Have it in your mind? One acre is 43,560 square feet. Yes, I have that number memorized from my days in engineering school. Still, it seems abstract, so let's zoom in. 

For those of you who live in suburban America, your house likely sits on one-fifth of an acre, give or take. So five of the plots of land that your house sits on make an acre. Good. Now rainfall, in both hydrology and agriculture, is often measured in acre-feet. One acre-foot refers to one foot of water depth that covers an entire acre. 

Seawater accounts for approximately 139 million square miles of the earth's surface. There are 640 acres in a square mile, so that makes for 88.96 billion acres of seawater on the earth's surface. A rise of 2.6 inches across this surface therefore equates to 19.27 billion acre-feet of water. Perhaps that number sounds a bit larger than 2.6 inches and more accurately conveys the scale of what is happening.

Furthermore, as the planet continues to warm, sea levels will continue to rise due to thermal expansion of the ocean itself. And because of climate change, glaciers and polar ice caps continue to melt at an increasing rate, driving levels even higher. This is bad news for communities in low-lying areas, including the Seychelles Islands, the Chesapeake Bay region of Virginia and Maryland, the Netherlands, and countless others. And we spend billions of dollars desperately fighting to keep the water at bay rather than changing our energy needs and usage.

Water scarcity. Growing populations, increasing urbanization, and greater industrial use of water further stress the availability of this critical resource. While total water content on the planet remains relatively stable over time, usable and accessible water does not. As we draw more water out of aquifers and reservoirs and drink it, flush it, irrigate fields with it and pump it full of nitrogen, and send it on down the river to the ocean, it ultimately becomes brackish seawater. We can't use saline water for much, short of costly desalination. And we are sending water to the ocean at a faster rate than it is replenished over the landscape as freshwater via precipitation.

https://legacy.lib.utexas.edu/maps/world_maps/water_scarcity_2025.jpg

And before you respond that it's rained quite a bit recently where you live, or conversely, that your region is in a severe drought, let me stress that the overall effect of climate change is to produce greater extremes. Lengthier droughts, stronger hurricanes, more intense rainfall and storms, a prolonged wildfire season, etc. And all of this can be tied directly back to human activity.

The above examples are just a sampling of the current state of the Earth's climate. It's a complex problem. A wicked problem, in fact. We seek economic growth, greater access to food, shelter, and water for all, improved quality of life; all good things. But we are finding it difficult to reconcile the manner in which we go about it with negative long-term effects on the Earth. Let's be clear, though; the Earth will be fine. It is our own position that we make more precarious as we march ever forward in the pursuit of growth and advancement. We scar the world, time and again, and continue to ask it for more. History has shown us that there comes a time when the Earth lashes out.