Strong feelings shaded yesterday’s total solar eclipse in North America, ranging from worries about terrorism against big crowds gathered in rural areas, where first-responders would be overwhelmed, to fervent hopes for the rapture.
Our sensual imagination has gone abstract, need-based, overclever, and devoid of substance.
Thinking, Fast and Slow is, in part, an extended lesson in humility. It should humble us all to understand how limited we are. Kahneman’s book is also, fortunately for us, a potent antidote.
Professional landscapers haul in huge loads. And a shrugging “More compost for us!” is not fair to the folks who have to wrangle all that detritus, grinding a tangle of branches into mulch for our gardens. Still, the taped loop feels eerie.
Only now is it clear that genes network like busybodies, responding to every possible influence and turning one another on and off as the situation demands.
Our healthcare system runs on profit. It could use some fortification. Also, a few towers, so we can see farther into the future. And maybe a moat, to keep out the misinformation.
The moth-to-flame metaphor lasted for good reason. It colors our attitudes toward saintly masochism, heroic idiocy, great and stupid loves, magnificent obsessions that sop up people’s money and leave their families starved for affection and bread. And it leaves us as confused as the insects.
Dust is insidious, yet innocuous, tiny, and indeterminate. We do not see those wriggling bugs or vile toxins; we see only fluff. And so we grow accustomed to the stuff, joking about its presence when an unexpected guest comes to our home.
If one of us goes days without food, the blood drains from our face, and we collapse. Without a meal, soon, we will die. Coral’s widespread bleaching signals the same fate.
New carbon capture technologies may be “a dangerous distraction” from the real reforms needed to wean us off fossil fuels altogether.