THE SHAME OF IT ALL
We need to go back to the beginning ... of this series of diaries, at least, but time-wise, even a bit further. St. Augustine raised the fundamental issue in his Confessions (~397 AD) where he indicated how easy it is to erroneously worship the thing created (that is, something of the world, something, for example, we ourselves made) and not give proper credit to the Creator, in this case, God. Were we to worship the maker of the thing, e.g. ourselves, then we would be guilty of what Anders calls Promethean Pride, giving credit only to ourselves, even for ourselves (the "self-made man", for example, to whom I'll return later). Should we believe we owe nothing to anyone, not even to ourselves, we would be exhibiting Promethean Defiance. While all related to one another, it is Anders' contention that we experience shame in the presence of our products, and this he calls Promethean Shame. I know most of you are saying right now, "Not me ... I don't know what the hell he's talking about," so let me see if I can perhaps make it clear.
Have you ever
- stood in front of a machine (maybe a car, a boat, a plane, an industrial robot, it doesn't matter) and were so impressed you didn't know what to say?
- marveled at the capabilities of a prosthetic device (such as a hearing aid, new-type contact lenses, and artificial limb, etc.) and found yourself muttering to yourself, "just how cool is that" or something similar?
- found yourself in a movie theater watching the latest high-tech production and wondering how it is that they can make that stuff practically more realistic than real life?
- realized that your own physical limitations have prevented you from doing something really exciting, like experiencing 4G turns in a fighter jet or Formula I race car, or even just the newest roller coaster at amusement park?
- wondered what it would be like to be a space tourist or to be able to dive to the depths of the deepest ocean, and at least secretly wished you'd have enough money some day to find out?
Well, if you answered "yes" to any one of those questions, you have, whether you realize it or not, experienced Promethean Shame. What all of these situations have in common is that recognition that the device or product involved is bigger, stronger, faster, more perfect, more capable, more powerful ... whatever ... than you. Even if you were all that you could be, you could never be that.
We live in a world in which bigger/faster/etc. is simply "better". Better, of course, is the enemy of the "good", and no matter how hard we try, we will never be as good as the things we make. When left to our own devices (such an appropriate phrase), it turns out that there are just so many things we will never be able to do. In short, our products, the things we produce ... not we individually, nor we as a business or society … have attained a perfection that we can only dream of. And that, according to Anders, is the source of our shame.
Let's face it. We are finite, limited and without our machines and gadgets what would we be? If we did not have all these labor-saving devices (whereby, just for information: how many of you are enjoying your increased leisure time?), what would become of us? But, ah ha, you say, we've made all these things for our convenience, for our benefit. We are still the masters of our fate, the shapers of our own destinies. Really?
If you happen to be one of those few Americans who still work in manufacturing, who determines the pace of your work, you or the assembly line? Who determines what you do, you or the production process? If you don't work in manufacturing, what do you produce? Anything? Probably not. Goods (what a fascinating word in and of itself) don't grow on trees, but we have little, if anything, to do with them being there. In the end, we for the most part merely acquire products and are masters only of what we buy. And we wonder why property rights are more important in America than human rights. Therein lies the rub. What we have, what we own, what we can afford is what determines who we are. Our selves, our bodies, our intelligence, our skills and capabilities are just burdensome details that (real) producers have to deal with. If we only had completely automated production ... If we could only get rid of these troublesome employees ... If ...
The mall has become the new Sanctum Sanctorum of America. Once great cathedrals drew the masses to awe and to their knees. We stood and heard that we were imperfect beings, sinners incapable – or at least unworthy – of grace. The light streaming through the stained-glass windows illuminated stories of hope, and we left with our sense of imperfection and unworthiness to fervently desire that one day we might be forgiven and become worthy in the Eyes of the Creator. But now, we take our own sense of incompleteness with us to the new, bigger, more fully stocked Temple where we are shown our imperfection and humiliated into recognizing just how much we do not have, and never can have. We wander aimlessly past the glittering display windows not full of hope, only hoping, but imperfect and unworthy we remain.
For those who can, however, they can do something about that imperfection. The new icons of beauty are Photoshopped. They are unreal entities cavorting on the glossy pages of magazines, in advertisements. We, too, perhaps could be like them, and so the cosmetic surgery industry booms. Just a nip, a tuck, a bit off the nose here, perhaps a touch of liposuction there ... Those who can, those who have the means, can make themselves over. They are remade, not reborn, and we want them to be that way. The best and the beautiful, our idols, but an illusion nevertheless. We are ashamed of who we are, of what we've become, and we live in envy of what we cannot make ourselves into.