Showing posts with label otherness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label otherness. Show all posts

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Altruistic Horizons: Our tribal natures, the 'fear effect' and the end of ideologies

Okay, this is one of my big ones... a major posting about some fundamentals of human nature and history.  I sometimes blog these before posting them as full essays, then chapters in a forthcoming book.  So cinch up your  saddle for a serious ride as we explore some basic drivers of our unique civilization!

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Social thinkers long yearned for the kind of predictive power offered by universal laws of Galileo, Newton and Einstein -- reductionist rules that changed our relationship with the material world, from helplessness to manipulative skill.

If only similar patterns and laws were found for human nature! Might we construct an ideal society suited to decent living by all? 

Or else... might technologized sociology anchor in the tyranny that almost all our ancestors knew? Tyrannies that were amateurish, by comparison to the coming All-State.

Deep thinkers about human nature start with assumptions. Freud focused on sexual trauma and repression, Marx on the notion that humans combine rational self-interest with inter-class predation. Machiavelli offered scenarios about power relationships. Ayn Rand postulates that the sole legitimate human stance is solipsism. All are a priori suppositions based on limited and personally biased observations rather than any verified fundamental. Each writer "proved" his point with copious anecdotes. But, as Ronald Reagan showed, anecdotes prove nothing about generalities, only about possibilities.

In fact, while the models of Freud, Marx, and Machiavelli (also Madison, Keynes, Hayek, Gandhi etc.) attracted followers, I think a stronger case can be made for 
tribalism as a driver of history. 

Shouldn't any theory of our nature apply across the long span when that nature formed? Indeed, Freud, Marx and Rand shared cluelessness about Darwinian evolution, animal behavior, pre-agricultural anthropology, or ethology.

 Heckfire, shouldn't we be seeking patterns that held across all continents and almost all pre-metal tribes? That are not artifacts of later cultural imposition by contrived societies? The long epoch, when humans were few, but when a vast majority of human generations suffered darwinnowing pressures, thriving or dying according to their fitness to meet challenges in a harsh world, unprotected by the houses and markets and coddling states of the last 5,000 years? 

(And yes, I am qualified to speak here, as a peer-published author in the fields of evolution theory and sociobiology. And in psychology. Well, perhaps not a pro in these fields, but up one small notch. Though let me hurry to add that I will not be talking here about "sociobiology" in the sense that it has long been discussed -- e.g. sexual politics and such.)

THE RELEVANCE OF EVOLUTION

So, what might tribalism tell us about human nature, that was missed by Marx and Freud and Rand etc., in their post-literacy myopia? What traits seem to be shared both by tribal and “civilized” societies?

Over and over, we see how devotion to a group, clan, or nation overwhelms individual self-interest. Indeed, for most of the last million years, any man or woman who lost the faith and confidence of his or her tribe was in great danger. Often effectively dead.

Ask any kid between the ages of ten and nineteen -- how urgently you needed approval of a small group of friends, coincidentally about the same size as a prototypical Cro-Magnon tribal band. And if that group turned on you, remember the pain? 

Sure, parents tell their kids -- "Don't worry, you'll make new friends." At one level, in the rational prefrontal lobes, we know this to be true. And yet, the gut still wrenches, as if life were on the line... which it would have been, back in olden days, if the tribe ejected you from its circle of comradeship. 

Oh, but humans can be very flexible defining what is "my tribe." More often than not, the major determining factor is fear. 

AND NOW THE KEY POINT: OUR HORIZONS OF WORRY AND HOPE

When the ambient fear level is high, as in civil war-riven Lebanon, loyalties are kept close to home. Me against my brother. My brother and me against our cousins. We and our cousins against the world. Alliances merge and are broken quickly, along a sliding scale that appears to be remarkably consistent.

The general trend seems to be this: the lower the ambient fear level declines, the more broadly a human being appears willing to define those tribal boundaries, and the more generous he or she is willing to be toward the stranger.

Anthropologically speaking, it is "murder" to kill that which is fellow tribesman or citizen (someone identified as inside the tribal horizon). In contrast, it is not murder to kill that which is inherently outside the tribal horizon. (For a cinematic allegory, recall the film "Little Big Man" in which the Cheyenne call themselves the "human beings". And that film was pro-Native American!)

My contention is simple, that there exists an inverse correlation between ambient fear levels and the distance -- in terms of space, time and kinship -- of the "horizons” maintained by average members of a given culture.

These horizons come in several varieties. 

1) There is a "Worry Horizon"... what threats concern you and your neighbors. Here we see that worry is quite a different thing than Fear! The average modern American probably worries as much or more than tribal peoples did! Worry will never go away since it seems embedded into our nature. If immediate needs and threats are dissipated, that only shifts the locus of worry somewhere else, depending to some extent on individual personality. 

But fear is another matter. Fear controls what it is that we are worrying about. And how far we'll look for it.

2) There is also a “Time Horizon” having to do with how far into the future you devote your attention – either in dealing with threats or seeking opportunities. If your children are starving, you are more concerned with the next meal than with the next harvest. 

If the harvest looks okay, you turn your thoughts to longer range matters. Storage, trade, capital improvements… or whether slow loss of topsoil may affect your heirs 200 years from now. The specific topic of your fretfulness may be so extended and abstract (e.g. climate change) that your starving ancestors would find it ludicrous...

...but they would well-understand the buckled brow and dour frowns of concern on your face. The better, more productive and secure civilization those ancestors bequeathed to you did not end all worrying. It simply empowers you to look farther, to more distant, dangerous horizons.

3) Another might be called the "Otherness Horizon” - where one looks not for danger but for opportunities, adventures, new allies, new mating partners. This is also, in anthropological circles, discussed under "exogamy". Clearly, this is one of the reasons early science fiction tales seemed so obsessed with sexy aliens! While the Threat Horizon has been filled with nasty ones. (See my book Otherness.)

This could also be called the “Horizon of Inclusion” since it is partly about deciding how many people you want to deal with as worthy fellow citizens and negotiating partners, and where you draw the line, calling others foes. 

What seems clear, examining historical records and a broad range of cultures, is that all of these horizons expand and contract in the manner described above. The amount of worry may remain relatively inelastic -- a trait of personality, rather than conditions. But the topic of worry changes dramatically and flexibly. Yes, the horizon distance can be affected partly by cultural memes and personality. But overall, these horizons seem to depend most upon the ambient level of fear. 

OUR FAVORED (OR WEIRD) MODERN PERSPECTIVE

By these lights, most contemporary Americans live in an unprecedented society, where the vast majority of families have not known starvation or even significant want for so many generations that those kinds of worry are almost abstractions. 

This, in turn, has allowed traditional tribal bounds to relax and spread so far that "tolerance" and "diversity" and "otherness" are words of totemic power in this culture! Indeed, it is interesting to view the expanding circle of citizenship and inclusion as first the American colonies and then the Republic began experiencing unprecedented levels of prosperity and fear-reduction. The battles over inclusion that were fought in each generation (first against class division, then slavery, sexism, religious intolerance, racism…) tend to seem obvious to their children, who grow up within the newly-widened horizon set… then wrestle with the next stage. Continuing the process of widening the circle.

While horrific injustices remain, and substantial fractions of the population appear unwilling to let go of their prejudices, there is at least as large a portion of modern citizenry which seems eager to extend the trend of expanding inclusion and empowerment farther still.

I have some accompanying charts, showing a set of nested CYLINDERS, each holding the same volume of worry and optimistic hope. But some are tall and slim, representing societies in which fear levels are very high… and the resulting radius of horizons (threat, time, opportunity and inclusion) are therefore very short range. 

Other cylinders are low and fat, representing cultures wherein fear has been so low, for so long that the horizons of worry stretch very far from the individual worrier, who now obsesses over matters that lie years, or thousands of miles away, and matters of inclusion that involve people (even animals and ecosystems) that his or her ancestors would have simply considered prey. 

Ponder this allegory! You are in a crowd of people -- perhaps in a lecture hall or at a party -- and someone rushes in shouting that "there are whales stranded on the beach!"  (Assume you live near a beach.) 

What then is your reaction? While some might shrug at the news, I figure you and many of your friends would drop everything and hurry toward that beach, as fast as you can...

... which is exactly the same thing your ancestors would have done, upon hearing the same news.

Only consider. Your ancestors would be rushing to the beach with different intent. You are propelled by eagerness to help-the-included-other. 

Your forebears' race to the shore would be propelled by one word, foremost in their minds.

Lunch.

== Fluctuating boundaries ==

Ponder that allegory of the beached whales. You know it to be true. So? Were your ancestors cruelly benighted folk? Implying that you are a tremendously more elevated being than they were? 

Hm. Elevated, perhaps you are. But only because those ancestors strove to create conditions under which you cannot imagine needing whale meat to feed your starving kids.  Instead -- more relaxed -- you assign whales within the circle of inclusion. To your eyes, they are fellow citizens meriting generosity, protection and respect.

Today we discuss threats and opportunities in terms of a century or more, with asteroids and Mars colonies and melting icecaps open for serious discussion. Inclusion arguments now extend to legal rights for animals. Indeed, the process of inclusion expansion has been reinforced!  Not only with supportive propaganda (tolerance-diversity memes in every children's book and Hollywood flick), but also via the hard-won lesson of practical economics -- that it is simply stupid to waste talent. A waste that is the principal cost of prejudice.

Yes, fashionable horizon/inclusion issues can fluctuate at the boundaries. Note how nationalist patriotism was considered an archaic and rather quaint viewpoint in the 1990s, till an uptick in fear after 9/11 caused a partial contraction of horizons for many. Suddenly, flags were all the rage. (We'll get into how this process affects modern politics.)

And yet, it is a sign of this culture’s deeper confidence that our horizons of inclusion have not appreciably contracted. Today -- especially in certain western nations -- we give a kind of culturally-based honorary citizenship to dolphins and consider it murder to kill as alien a creature as a whale. 

Science fiction thrives in such a culture, since it brashly extends horizons in both time and space as far as human imagination can take us. 

The threat horizon is occupied by vicious invader-aliens and the exogamy horizon by beautiful ones... and the inclusion horizon finger-wags that non-murderous aliens merit nurturing protection from our own, freely-elected government! Heck, did you see District 9? They don't even have to be attractive anymore, to merit protective inclusion.

Of course the macro topic here could be oversimplified as “altruism,” since that, too, is about extending beneficence to the other. Altruism is receiving a fair amount of attention, of-late; see three new books on the topic reviewed here by Scientific American.  And the cogent volume Pathological Altruism, edited by Barbara Oakley et al., containing two papers by yours truly. Though our topic here -- horizon expansion -- is about much more, since altruism is just one of many zones across which we stare at the other. 

== Variation ==

It is important to note, of course, that our cylinder-charts only depict a rough average. Within any culture there will be many individuals whose fear levels - or personal ways of responding to fear - are quite different from the surrounding norm. Indeed, these variations are what we tend to notice from day to day. Certainly Timothy McVeigh had very different concepts of "inclusion horizons" than many of the fellow citizens he slew.

Indeed, might one diagnose some recent phenomena in these terms? Why is it that citizens of New York and Washington DC – direct victims of 9/11 terrorism – remain utterly “blue” in their fealty to expanded horizons – in time, threat and inclusion – while “red state” attitudes seem to draw closer in: e.g. higher enmity toward non-natives and immigrants, less concern about environmental degradation, more hostile ruminations over “war” on terror, less interest in science and more in a pending, biblically-ordained end of the world? 

Is this model the best one, yet, at explaining such differences? Certainly it is far better than any insipid “left-right political axis” or words such as “conservatism” and “liberalism.”

Also, different cultures will react to prosperity and peace in markedly different ways. I believe it will take many generations of tranquility and progress before the deeply ingrained Russian proclivity toward paranoia and pessimistic gloom will be forced to give way to a cheerier mien. Likewise, so long as most children in the Middle East are raised with fairy tales that preach revenge as a high human value, horizon-widening will at best be a jerky process. Skim 1001 Arabian Nights and tally the few tales that don't involve revenge. Indeed, much the same can be said of older western myths, collected in Grimm's Fairy Tales. The counter-push by tolerance messages - e.g. Hiawatha and Sesame Street - is recent! 

Indeed, cultural variation can be seen even within the U.S., as those with more "confederate" upbringing react with hackles toward diversity preachers. They deem those who push relentless horizon expansion to be sick persons... and vice-versa. Or else, look at the divide within the SF community, with fantasy writers and readers much more willing to dive into old-fashioned romanticism, in which whole classes of beings (orcs, zombies, clone-stormtroopers) deserve - by their very nature - to be annihilated. Are the relentlessly feudal settings, featuring states of bone-chilling fear, tools to resurrect that delicious us-versus-them feeling, letting fans enjoy intolerant slaughter guilt-free?

Peering in the opposite direction: what happens when fear goes to zero? Do we get infinite horizons? I suspect that there is more than a little religious writing on this subject. Indeed, might this be the purely detached compassion that is written about in Buddhism? Is it one of many traits we must achieve, before deserving to become members of an interstellar federation? 

Or else apprentices in the Workshop of Creation?

CAN WE KEEP WIDENING HORIZONS?

No mistake, I approve of this trend toward ever-widening horizons. (Which may be the deep underpinning of science fiction, by the way. Watch this TED talk where I explore in-depth.) 

Indeed, like millions of others, I am impatient for it to go much farther. It is ironic, though, how few seem to realize that the new era of Omni-Inclusion is based upon prosperity and lack of fear brought on by prosperity, and that our morality of universal tolerance would have been considered terminally sappy and dangerous by every other culture in human history.

This is – in my view – the deepest smug insanity of the "left."

 Yes, the “right” obviously suffers from shorter horizons. That is their dire craziness. But the doctrinaire left is just as loopy. Because they take expanded horizons as a deeply fundamental ‘given’ of human morality. Like Rousseau, they simply assume, as something basic, a value system that is actually extremely recent and entirely contingent. One that is based upon unprecedented levels of wealth and satiation. 

Indeed, were they to preach this doctrine of hyper-tolerance to any of the ancient “wise tribes” that they so revere, they would have been laughed out of camp! 

Can this process be pathological at some level? Jason Cawley wrote: "There is such a thing, comical as it sounds, as a Gaia Liberation Front. They have decided that mankind is dangerous to life on Earth. They have given up on warnings preventing eco-catastrophe, have passed the stage of welcoming die-backs to hunter-gatherer existence, have realized that capitalistic assaults on nature are a programmed possibility of man, revealing therefore man as a form of cancer within life, and have decided this applies even to "indigenous peoples" because they might develop technology someday. Because of that whole chain, they have decided that mankind must be wiped out before life is. They only debate how to do it. The public relations position is voluntary mass suicide, but among themselves they are more direct and pin their hopes on an engineered virus, airborne and lethal to humans, which they propose to make before anyone else learns and uses enough biotech to screw up the planet."  (See this point of view garishly illustrated in a very silly and occasionally outright offensive flick: "Kingsman.")

Summarizing: Today's political camps might be typified by how they feel about the process of ongoing horizon expansion.

 "Leftists" give the process itself their utter and devoted loyalty.  The next inclusion push is the be-all of obsession, and to hell with older loyalties.  

People on the "right" react with hackles: "I like my old loyalties, so stop nagging me!"

Liberals, the sole group who think positive-sum, like the horizon expansion process... but liberals also like many of their older loyalties, and see no reason why they should have to choose. 

Again, this has nothing to do with classic, Marxian "left-right". Rather, it posits that today's tussles are matters of personality! A suggestion borne out by the research of Jonathan Haidt.

FORGET ROUSSEAU. FORGET HOBBES. 

And forget Marx, Freud and Rand, for that matter. If one takes history into account and cheerfully accepts the incremental progress that it portrays, then the Modernist Agenda of pragmatic improvement makes a great deal of sense. Face it. Rousseau was a sap and Hobbes was a suck-up grouch. All of this is about Locke. The sooner the “wide-horizons” people realize it, the more effective they will be at pursuing their agenda, of expanding inclusion ever farther!

In fact, this process of horizon-widening is not intrinsically a feature of the left… though it is intrinsic to liberalism in the older and truer meaning of the word. It is utterly compatible with the four accountability arenas, for example (science, markets, democracy, courts… and the candidate for becoming a fifth arena – the internet. (And a sixth -- Sports.)

For example, markets work best when competition is both encouraged and well-regulated… when it operates under rules of fair play that maximize creativity and minimize blood-on-the-floor. This can only happen when market participants must treat each other as competing teams, not deadly foes. 

Indeed, one of the major outgrowths of our unprecedented experiment in universal citizenship has been a fundamental change in the shape of the modern social structure.  Society as diamond, and not pyramid, is partly a product of technology (making a new class of slaves called "machines", to occupy the lowermost tier), but also a result of having trained several generations of children to think in terms of non-zero sum games. But more on that anon. 

Hence, once again, we see that this is not a matter best handled on a 'left-right' basis. Both dogmatic extremes ignore history and are effectively quite mad! One side resists the widening of horizons while the other would force it with a patronizing, oversimplifying sledge hammer.

Rather, this is about the true “liberal” notion of ever-increasing inclusion within the tent of human decency - motivated in part by the pragmatic need to stop wasting talent through prejudice - while allowing a lot of give and negotiation and bickering and creative competition inside the tent! 

PUZZLERS

There are many questions. For example - can the long process of expanding human horizons be studied in order to determine crucial narrow points and bottlenecks that inhibit horizon broadening, among both individuals and cultures? 

If such bottlenecks can be found and diagnosed, might a judicious application of philanthropic funding help unblock the process, here and overseas, so that both tolerance and far-seeing investment practices take greater hold?

Some societies on Earth have had plenty to eat for a while, yet have not taken as readily to horizon expansion... especially the horizon of inclusion. Hence, to what degree does culture play a significant role?  Might it be that humans only become satiated enough to extend those horizons, when they have been taught first to be at least somewhat satiable?

Is science fiction an artifact of horizon expansion? Certainly what you and I call the real stuff has to be. But recall that there were always tales of the fantastic, all the way back to tribal eras, and these helped reinforce horizon walls. Indeed, nothing could be more romantic and more savagely non-inclusive than most modern fantasy tales, in which the slaughter of every orc, or imperial clone trooper, is just fine, under the presumption that their type has no mothers to mourn them.

Do I deem my "horizons" model of human nature to be as valid as Marx and Freud and Rand declared theirs to be? Of course not. It is a model. Models are only memes and tools, not the things that they emulate!  I can only say that those other social theorists made no effort to span the tribal era that made us, nor to explain the pervasiveness of feudalism.

But the tradeoff between FEAR and the distance toward which we peer... that seems to be eternal.

There is no end to questions. That's a good thing! A feature of our process of horizon examination, not a flaw. 

And with that, I will now back away. Maybe put some of this into a story.

Though in fact, the core issues of "otherness" have been the central focus of my life.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Perils of Pandora (Part I) -- why Avatar (tragically) fails to make us any better


Well it seems we're all going back to Planet Pandora. And why not? With the proclamation of a coming sequel to the blockbuster sci-fi epic Avatar -- no, make that three sequels -- the near-universal response from one and all has been "Sure! Just tell me much money to bring and where to stand in line!" 

Even the recent announcement of a one year production delay hasn't dampened the ardor and anticipation.

James Cameron's epic was the most important science fiction film of the first decade of the 21st Century, least of all because it proved that animation tools have matured enough to portray almost any story. For example, the vivid animal characters in Life of Pi. Or else -- perhaps someday soon -- dolphins piloting starships? 

(An aside: I liked Christopher Nolan's Interstellar even more, in part because it contained more for my inner adult... a theme that I'll develop here.)

But of course, Avatar was about much more than special effects. Director-producer James Cameron often conveys fascinating messages. He wants to entertain everyone, but also to make some members of the audience think. Hence, it is the lessons of Avatar that I plan to engage and dissect here, today... and across two more installments.

Specifically, did James Cameron succeed in his blatant goal with Avatar -- to craft a great teaching moment? *

Okay then, regarding Avatar, let's start by admitting that --

1) James Cameron's heart is in the right place.

Hm, well. In a sci fi context, you can't take the clichéd meaning of that statement for granted! In fact, I have no direct knowledge of JC’s cardiopulmonary placement....

Seriously, there's no question that Mr. Cameron means well. He's intent on doing more than just wrestle cash out of the pockets of a billion people. He wants them to behave better. To care more. To broaden their horizons of tolerance, diversity, vision and possibility. Moreover, he's worried about how sketchily we're handling our duty as planetary managers. All of these are causes that I share and that I try (with more limited reach) to convey in works like Earth and Existence. 

So, I'll not criticize James Cameron for using his art to help make a better world. 

Ah, but with this clear aim, how well did Mr. Cameron succeed? And did this messianic ambition harm his art? Hold that thought.

2) Almost every review of Avatar compares the plot to Dances with Wolves…

…or other classic cautionary tales that preached similar values -- e.g. Pocahantas, Fern Gully, Silent Running, or Ursula K. LeGuin's The Word for World is Forest -- all of them portraying powerfully rapacious and greedy modern people (e.g. male European invaders of North America) in tense conflict with a group or tribe that -- albeit technologically primitive -- possesses superior, earthy wisdom. Whereupon one of the invaders goes native and joins the oppressed tribe, aiming to help them resist his own, morally-misbegotten, original folk.

At surface, that is indeed what we see in Avatar. Some of the sillier, satirical references to this overlap -- such as "Dances with (very tall) Smurfs" or "Lawrence of Ferngully" -- are both snarky and funny. I hear that Cameron takes them in good humor. A successful person can. (Watch: Everything Wrong with Avatar in 4 minutes!)

Now, I prefer storytelling that's less derivative. A bright fellow like James Cameron should be helping to lead Hollywood out of its current creativity-funk -- a dismal cycle of remakes, comic book reworks and rehashing old tropes -- that is resisted with consistency only by Christopher Nolan and Alfonso Cuaron. Even Steven Spielberg has retreated (albeit brilliantly) into retelling old tales. Perhaps we just live in cowardly times.

Hence, the derivative-cloned story is not what bothered me about Avatar. When I go see a flick, I adjust expectations and try to enjoy each movie in the spirit that it's offered. Generally, that requires cranking my originality dial way down, along with the logic meter. For Avatar, I then spun up my cool fun and gosh wow and root-for-underdog dials ... and wound up enjoying it immensely!

Alas, A couple of other scales… well… I wish I hadn't been forced to zero them out.

3) A key point: Avatar depicts an evil-westerners-type story unfolding in our future.

Where Dances with Wolves and Pocahantas were set in the past -- and Fern Gully in the approximate-fantasy present -- James Cameron sets his story in a time-to-come, after humanity has had another 200 years of experience, learning and technological progress -- plenty of time to discuss its own flaws, failings and potential for righting wrongs. Its potential for compassion and genius.

Ponder how our own values have grown more broad and subtle, in just the last 50 years, since Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. A journey that’s incomplete! Indeed, Cameron hopes to propel forward our grand conversation about human self-improvement. A conversation that will be taken up by our children, and theirs. A conversation -- and please consider this carefully -- whose past will have included movies like Avatar.

Ponder the irony. Avatar portrays a future in which films like Cameron's have apparently achieved nothing! We have learned zilch, despite the best efforts of billions of sincere people, including James Cameron. The social progress and rising acceptance that emerged from 1945 to 2015 stopped dead, and even reversed.

Oh, there've been changes, between our present and the future shown in Avatar. We've not only become interstellar travelers, but have invented a wondrous method for putting our minds literally into the bodies of other beings and walking around for a mile or more in their skins. (Not too unlike the technology that I posit - but handle very differently - in Kiln People.) The avatar-embedding machinery at the core of the story is potentially the greatest tool for tolerance, empathy and cultural learning imaginable! Indeed, that is how Cameron portrays it being used...by one person. Maybe two.

Indeed, we've just set the stage for Avatar's moral collapse: rooted in the fact that this version of the "dances with others" scenario is set in a depressingly ordained-awful future.
           
Consider.  With Pocahantas and Dances With Wolves, the audience contemplates the folowing implicit lesson:

"We come from a savage past, when immature ancestors did terrible things, while a few heroes lit candles in the darkness. Those mistakes still cling to us. Let's learn from our past and continue to do better."

In sharp contrast - and without intending it - by setting the very same story in the future, Cameron preaches:

"Humans are hopelessly rotten. They will be oppressors with horrible institutions, no matter how advanced we get and no matter how many tools of empathy we develop.
"Films like this one won’t help, either.
 "Give up."

To be clear -- that's not what he meant to teach!  

But it is exactly how people felt, upon leaving the theaters.


            “I wish I were Na’vi, instead of a cursed human.
            "Or worse – an American.
            “I can’t wait till the next time I can revisit Pandora and pretend I am defeating scuzzy humans!
            "Especially Americans.”

 4)  A movie asserting to be all about native tribal life and ecology ignores everything we know about either. 

While seated in the audience, enjoying the color, beauty and action of Avatar, we are so busy being visually awed -- and receiving let's-all-cooperate-with-nature messages -- that we blithely accept a raft of contradictions. For example:

(a) On Earth, all functioning ecosystems are about competition, predation and death. Animals in nature endure lives that are vastly more tense and fretful than ours, not more placid and relaxed. Hunger lurks just ahead. Brutal attack and death are always on the minds of predator and prey and almost everyone, even the lion, dies violently. In other words, Disney lied to us.

But on Pandora? Sure we do glimpse a couple of predators and some hunting by the Na'vi, but all of it softened and isolated. Nature, for the most part, is a cross between Lewis Carroll and Land of the Sugarplum Fairies.

(b) The Na'vi are a warrior people! Worthy of respect, much as we are taught to respect the Lakota (Sioux) - the tribe that gets all the motion pictures about Native Americans, from Little Big Man to Dances With Wolves. And okay, the Na'vi sure do act like noble warriors cloned from the American plains... except...

... except who have these "warriors" been fighting, all those years and eons before Earthlings came?

At least in Dances With Wolves there's no evasion. The Lakota are shown as what they gladly acknowledged themselves to be, at the time – a brutally violent people, yet somehow noble and endearing -- while the equally violent whites were not.

Okay. Fine. But in Avatar that whole background is wiped away from view. They get to be gruff, adorably macho warriors, without any context of endlessly vicious tribal war.

(c) As if to illustrate that fact, just like in Dances With Wolves, the "noble" natives in Avatar come that close to treacherously slaying the protagonist several times, once by a cowardly arrow in the back, without the slightest personal grievance or provocation from either Lieutenant Dunbar or Jake Sully, offering them no opportunities to honorably defend themselves.  In the Costner film, they are dissuaded by a medicine man saying "let's not kill him today." In Avatar, the same brief mercy derives from magical (or coincidental) symbolism. Ah, how admirably better that is, than -- say -- due process of law.          

There are scads of similar oversimplifications that do not strengthen James Cameron's case. But the key point is that none of them were necessary, even under the pressure of a 3 hour run-time. The story and lessons could have been conveyed, with the same visuals and characters and overall plot, without patronizing us. Without pressing the director's thumb on the scale.

Which brings us to a major point --

5) The Na'vi are portrayed as justified to be both obstinate and incurious. 

Indeed, some of the traits that Hollywood adores in the upper plains nomads were despised by many neighboring tribes of the time. Obdurate insistence on tribal changelessness, macho-male dominance and utter unwillingness to adapt to powerful new ways. (Except adopting the white man's weapons which, of course, the Na'vi do, as well.) Utter contempt for any thought of compromise. Plus a recurring rash impulsiveness that kept giving the most evil-despicable 19th Century white men hypocritical excuses to start the next war. 

Why do no sympathetic Hollywood movies sing paeans to tribes who exhibited traits like calmness, curiosity and adaptability, as shown by the Iroquois and Cherokee nations, who -- by the way -- respected women and who invented democratic methods that were models to the American founders? Tribes whose principal heroes included diplomats, inventors and intellectuals -- like Hiawatha and Sequoia -- instead of always brave, reckless raiders on horseback? Hey, I don’t disdain the admirable qualities of Crazy Horse; he deserves his new monument in the Black Hills! But for Hollywood to fixate only on that kind of Native American hero isn't respectful. It is yet another kind of patronization.

Getting back to Avatar, it is one thing to see a native people who are in tune with their world preaching to us that we should try this at home. Terrific. Yay, that!

But it is quite another to be finger-wagged by folks who never faced the temptations that we faced, and who yawn in complete lack of interest when they meet people who are able to cross the vast gulf between the f%#ng stars!

All right, compassion, love, courage and eco-oneness rank high in the pantheon of traits. But right after those, can you think of any gift more admirable than curiosity? In Avatar, there are humans who express all four!

Show me one Na'vi who does.

6) Other critics: The White Messiah Complex.

This brings us to one of the more obvious criticisms of Avatar, bruited by reviewers like David Brooks and John Podhoretz, who bemoan the “white messiah complex.”

“It rests on the stereotype that white people are rationalist and technocratic while colonial victims are spiritual and athletic... that nonwhites need the White Messiah to lead their crusades... that illiteracy is the path to grace. It also creates a sort of two-edged cultural imperialism. Natives can either have their history shaped by cruel imperialists or benevolent ones, but either way, they are going to be supporting actors in our journey to self-admiration.” -- writes David Brooks.

Hm, well… duh? And you’re shocked, shocked (!) that a film-maker who is gambling hundreds of millions of dollars would go with a core protagonist who is guaranteed familiarity and viewer identification in his core audience? Ever hear of a film called Rapa Nui? I didn’t think so.


No, I won’t carp on James Cameron for centering his story upon Jake Sully. The creator of Sarah Connor and the kickass girl-marines of Aliens has nothing to apologize for.  We owe him some benefit of the doubt.


Indeed, one could reverse the complaint. Clearly, the most relentless preaching in Avatar is not about the technological or tactical or messianic talents of Jake Sully, but the moral and esthetic superiority of the Na’vi, along with the beyond-all-redemption vileness of every aspect of western civilization.


== Sympathy for the alien… and ourselves? ==


Elsewhere I talk about our quirky Western/American habit of relentless self-criticism. Our reflex to dismiss our own culture’s value while extolling the other. (See my essay: The Dogma of Otherness.) Sure, it’s not universal, even among Californians -- we all know plenty of neighbors who display smug insularity, chauvinistic nativism and even xenophobia. But the counter-trend has been powerful for more than two generations, and it has won more battles than it lost.

For example the widespread notion that ‘greater wisdom’ is to be found in eastern mysticism has ranged from the very real value that Steve Jobs got from his years in an ashram, to the mild sense of no-excuses discipline my kids received from their karate instructor... all the way to the hysterically pathetic reverence that Star Wars fans give to a nasty little faux-guru sock puppet named “Yoda,” who never does or says a single thing that’s verifiably wise, or even helpful! At the far extreme are those westerners who reflexively despise everything about their own culture and give unlimited excuses for anything that's not.


Consider how this theme -- “us is bad; others is good” - often plays in science fiction films. Aliens have to be pretty darned vicious and ugly (e.g. Independence Day) in order to fill the villain role. And District Nine showed that even nasty appearance no longer disqualifies the other from sympathetic treatment.        

Look, I know this cultural phase is necessary, in order to help break lots of bad-old habits that go back 60 centuries. My own life-long fascination (in both science and fiction) with the other -- ranging from the expanse of human diversity to animal minds, to possible alien or artificial intelligences -- surely stems from the Otherness meme that I absorbed from an early age. I'm glad of this cultural innovation, and I try my best to help promote it.

Alas, we are prevented from even noticing that this meme is operating. Or the blatant fact that it is special, recent, and mostly unique to the neo-west. Name one another culture that ever preached to its children: “admire any other civilization but always criticize your own!  No prior people did that. Indeed, no other culture benefited as much as we have from relentlessly seeking our own flaws and finding the positive in others. Or incorporating a goulash of cultures within itself.

We now view diversity as strength! And we got to that point by relentlessly self-criticizing 6000 year old habits of intolerance that most cultures took for granted.
           
All right, that’s a difficult irony to convey. Though the brilliant 1980s sci fi film Alien Nation managed to do it, combining some of the traditional, otherness-moralistic chiding with a few grains of rare praise and approval.

 That film taught the audience a more subtle lesson:

            “You people still have a long, long way to go, before you're truly decent or civilized.
            "But you are getting better! You’ve come far, in fact.
            "And we believe you can go farther still.”
            
Is that so hard to do? Mix in a little attaboy reinforcement, amid the chiding?

Apparently it is. Because outside of Alien Nation – and Star Trek, of course – I can think of no other example from Hollywood, where the intolerance-scolding message was ever sweetened with a little encouragement. A little hope.

It could easily have been done, in Avatar.  But it wasn’t.

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*A personal footnote: I don't hold against Cameron my own temporal misfortune - that Kevin Costner's film version of my novel The Postman opened the same week as -- and was crushed in theaters by Cameron's Titanic! C'est la vie and folks can read elsewhere what I think of Costner's flick. 

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Continue to... Part II: How James Cameron might still set things right...

                 or  Part III: Can Avatar be 'Fixed'?

                     Part IV: A Speculative Addendum