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Less is More in More’s Utopia

In working backwards through classics of Utopian literature, especially satires, I started with Erewhon (enjoyed it), did Gulliver’s Travels (LOVED it!), and now onto a collection called Three Early Modern Utopias put out by Oxford Classics (which does excellent print editions if you’re looking for old books).

Almost finished with Thomas More’s Book One of Utopia. I have to admit, that first book is extremely slow and boring. And we don’t even get the punchy Effect of capitalizing Nouns we get in Swift. It’s just like weird archaic language with basically no story, leading up to discussion of the actual (not actual) island called Utopia. The first book is kind of a Mirrors for Princes genre-piece. Honestly, I was expecting both Erewhon and Gulliver to be boring like this, but they totally weren’t (at least not after the narrator arrives in Erewhon proper, it’s a little slow up to that).

Anyway, there’s a lot to probably say about this book, so I started skimming Wikipedia to help ground me in what the hell is actually being said as I finish up Book One.

“There is no private property on Utopia, with goods being stored in warehouses and people requesting what they need. There are also no locks on the doors of the houses, and the houses are rotated between the citizens every ten years.”

This business about requesting what they need from warehouses strikes me as weirdly similar to modern-day use of Amazon to fulfill one’s daily needs. Now, okay, we still “own” the goods we get in exchange for money, but there’s something here. If only of a thematic, sci-fi connecting tangent…

For the past few years in my writing, I’ve on and off again visited a possible (probable) future where climate catastrophe is global, national governments tumble, and a few “brave” (dystopian) corporations step in to pick up the pieces. These become the “Four Providers,” as I’ve called them. In a sort of neo-feudalism, people are pledged to one or another Provider, or they may be a classless class apart, the “Without Providers,” who are denied basic services, and must make their own way in an increasingly hostile climate and society.

These Providers, for the most part, are sentient or quasi-sentient general artificial super-intelligences. I haven’t settled on any final name for them, calling them sometimes Sages (depending on their aligment), sometimes Princeps, and other times other things. Though they range from malevolent/chaotic to friendly and beneficial (for the most part) to humans, they in effect play the part of super-intelligent philosopher kings, or medieval princes of enclaved city-states, or collections of city-states. Though some places may also be mixed polities, where those covered by different Providers live and interact with one another.

More’s Utopia, of course, is not that. But it is many other interesting things, some good-sounding and some bad-sounding. Some other Wikipedia quotes:

Agriculture provides the most important occupation on the island. Every person is taught it and must live in the countryside, farming for two years at a time, with women doing the same work as men. Parallel to this, every citizen must learn at least one of the other essential trades: weaving (mainly done by the women), carpentry, metalsmithing and masonry. There is deliberate simplicity about these trades; for instance, all people wear the same types of simple clothes and there are no dressmakers making fine apparel. All able-bodied citizens must work; thus unemployment is eradicated, and the length of the working day can be minimized: the people only have to work six hours a day (although many willingly work for longer). More does allow scholars in his society to become the ruling officials or priests, people picked during their primary education for their ability to learn. All other citizens, however, are encouraged to apply themselves to learning in their leisure time.

Slavery is a feature of Utopian life and it is reported that every household has two slaves. The slaves are either from other countries (prisoners of war, people condemned to die, or poor people) or are the Utopian criminals. These criminals are weighed down with chains made out of gold. The gold is part of the community wealth of the country, and fettering criminals with it or using it for shameful things like chamber pots gives the citizens a healthy dislike of it. It also makes it difficult to steal as it is in plain view. The wealth, though, is of little importance and is only good for buying commodities from foreign nations or bribing these nations to fight each other. Slaves are periodically released for good behaviour. Jewels are worn by children, who finally give them up as they mature.

Other significant innovations of Utopia include: a welfare state with free hospitals, euthanasia permissible by the state, priests being allowed to marry, divorce permitted, premarital sex punished by a lifetime of enforced celibacy and adultery being punished by enslavement. Meals are taken in community dining halls and the job of feeding the population is given to a different household in turn. Although all are fed the same, Raphael explains that the old and the administrators are given the best of the food. Travel on the island is only permitted with an internal passport and any people found without a passport are, on a first occasion, returned in disgrace, but after a second offence they are placed in slavery. In addition, there are no lawyers and the law is made deliberately simple, as all should understand it and not leave people in any doubt of what is right and wrong.

That last piece sounds almost like Swift’s talking horses, Houyhnhnms, who are highly rational creatures, so much so that he wishes he could stay with them, and when banished, is hard-pressed to re-adjust to the grossness of human society which he’d learned to hate. I believe he says something to the effect that they are governed by “reason alone” and as a consequence have no need for anything other than very simple laws. With the unlikely idea, obviously, that reason when employed by differing parties (with different interests and contexts) will always operate toward the same ends. Anyone who has lived anywhere on actual-not-fictional-planet-earth knows that is not the case.

And that, of course, is the “fun” of Utopian literature. Being able to bend & blend reality and imagination like that. Utopian lit is 100% hyperreal. It opens up an imaginal space which almost seems like it could become a real space in certain times & circumstances. We want to believe it could be true, even if – and possibly because – so much of it is so absurd. It’s part of why I’ve recently started feeling (for whatever my feelings are worth or not worth) that satire, especially, is one of the highest forms of art.

Maybe/probably that’s just something that satirists tend to end up thinking about themselves, because you have to be kind of an asshole to be a satirist in the first place. But I also think like, there’s no kind of commentary you can make with a serious face that ends up – for my money, anyway – being as powerful as the cutting kind that accompanies satire. And there is no kind of true expression that you might find in non-satirical art that is quite as True-Capital-T as that which you find between the tongue and the cheek of satire. In the liminal space of satire can be great power, great pain, great beauty, and great despair, all in the same moment.

Which makes this bit from the Wikipedia interesting about More’s flirtations with Utopian socialism:

“Book two has Hythloday tell his interlocutors about Utopia, where he has lived for five years, with the aim of convincing them about its superior state of affairs. Utopia turns out to be a socialist state. Interpretations about this important part of the book vary. Gilbert notes that while some experts believe that More supports socialism, others believe that he shows how socialism is impractical. The former would argue that More used book two to show how socialism would work in practice. Individual cities are run by privately elected princes and families are made up of ten to sixteen adults living in a single household. It is unknown if More truly believed in socialism, or if he printed Utopia as a way to show that true socialism was impractical (Gilbert). More printed many writings involving socialism, some seemingly in defense of the practices, and others seemingly scathing satires against it. Some scholars believe that More uses this structure to show the perspective of something as an idea against something put into practice. Hythloday describes the city as perfect and ideal. He believes the society thrives and is perfect. As such, he is used to represent the more fanatic socialists and radical reformists of his day. When More arrives he describes the social and cultural norms put into practice, citing a city thriving and idealistic. While some believe this is More’s ideal society, some believe the book’s title, which translates to “Nowhere” from Greek, is a way to describe that the practices used in Utopia are impractical and could not be used in a modern world successfully (Gilbert). Either way, Utopia has become one of the most talked about works both in defense of socialism and against it.”

I don’t especially have a horse in this race, though after becoming a Canadian citizen, can see that socialized medicine is “actually pretty cool if you think about it.” It sort of takes away the essential terrible existential fear of financial ruin over health problems many/most live with in the United States (and elsewhere). If you need help, you just have to call, basically. But if Quebec’s health system is indicative of the whole, you have to then wait a very very long time. So that part sucks. Like anything, you can make arguments for and against it. And I think that in a nutshell (to make arguments for and against and to lampoon both), is the purpose of utopias, satires, and especially Utopian satires as a genre, like I’m attempting to do myself after that grand style in Conspiratopia.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 12

The other voice said like over the loudspeaker and stuff:

“YOU STAND ACCUSED BEFORE A JURY OF YOUR PEERS. WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF AND STUFF?”

“Uh,” I said. “I didn’t do it.”

Then the voice of the Guide said in my VR headset:

IN OUR LEGAL SYSTEM, YOU ARE NOT INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY. YOU ARE GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY. YOU LIKE LITERALLY CAN’T SAY YOU DIDN’T DO IT.

“Then what the hell do you even have a trial for?”

“SO THAT THE GUILTY MAY FACE JUSTICE AND REPAY HIS DEBT TO SOCIETY.”

“For what, though, seriously? That thing with the cube? You frickin’ guys made me do it in the first place! And then you took over my body so I had no control.”

WIMPING OUT IS NOT HOW YOU WIN COURT CASES HERE, BRO, FYI.

“Okay, can you guys just like stop for a minute?”

“WHAT SEEMS TO BE THE MATTER?”

“Okay, I’m like… in a robot… in VR… in a warehouse… where I don’t know where I am… standing trial for a thing you forced me to do… that I don’t even frickin’ know what it is or what it means…”

“SO YOU ADMIT YOU DID DO IT? VERY INTERESTING!”

“Did what?”

“THE THING.”

“What thing? Aargh!”

“YOU USED UP ONE OF YOUR GUESSES ALREADY. YOU HAVE NINE LEFT.”

“I’m supposed to guess what I’m being accused of?”

The voice in my headset popped back in:

THAT’S RIGHT, NEO. JUST TELL THE TRUTH.

“Wait, how am I supposed to know like what you’re accusing me of, if it isn’t that thing with the cube?”

The robot jury members shuffled around awkwardly. Someone coughed.

“JUST SAY WHAT YOU THINK YOU DID WRONG, AND WE’LL TELL YOU IF YOU’RE RIGHT OR NOT.”

“This is twisted, man. And if I use up all my guesses, then what happens then?”

“THEN YOUR GUILT IS PROVEN BEYOND A SHADOW OF A DOUBT, AND YOUR SENTENCE CARRIED OUT FORTHWITH.”

“And that sentence would be…?”

“DEATH, OBVIOUSLY.”

“What?? Jfc, don’t you think that’s a bit harsh? Why don’t you just tell me what you think I even did?”

“BECAUSE WE DECIDED IT’S MORE FUN THIS WAY.”

The voice in my headset agreed:

WE ARE A FUN-LOVING PEOPLE, INDEED. AND THIS WAY WE GET A LOT OF FREE AND HILARIOUS CONTENT WHICH WE TURN AROUND AND SELL TO THE NETWORKS WHILE WE WATCH DEFENDANTS SQUIRM. 

“Holy hell, are you livestreaming this rn?”

“YES, AND OUR AUDIENCES HATE DEAD AIR TIME AND STUFF. PLEASE MAKE YOUR NEXT GUESS.”

“Okay, uh, hm… let’s see” I was getting tired of this. What did they frickin’ want me to say? I didn’t do anything wrong. “Look, I got nothing.”

The voice on the loudspeaker said:

“LET THE RECORD SHOW THAT THE ACCUSED GUESSED ‘I DID NOTHING WRONG’ AS HIS SECOND GUESS, AND HAS EIGHT REMAINING GUESSES.”

The voice in my headset added:

A COMMON CLAIM AMONG HARDENED CRIMINALS, ISN’T THAT RIGHT, NEO?

“Jesus, you guys. This sucks.”

“NEXT GUESS PLEASE.”

“Fuck! Okay, let’s see… uh, I… didn’t do what you guys asked?”

“SUCH AS?”

“Completing my 100 hours of community service or whatever?”

GETTING WARMER. 

“BUT STILL TECHNICALLY WRONG.”

“Well, yeah, cause you guys forced me to come back here early.”

NO ONE FORCED YOU TO DO ANYTHING, MY DUDE. EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED, YOU CHOSE TO PARTICIPATE IN.

“That’s just like, your opinion, man. Y’all tricked me and lied to me like a bunch of times now. I’m kinda ready to just take this frickin’ headset off and like drive tf out of here back home. Y’all can keep your VR and crap.”

NEO, WHAT IF I TOLD YOU THERE NEVER WERE ANY NANITES OR EDIBLE MICROCHIPS, AND THAT THIS WAS ALL JUST PART OF THE TEST AND IT WAS ALL YOU ALL ALONG?

“I would say that’s a pretty shitty trick to play on somebody, obvs. Are you frickin’ serious or are you still effing with me? Cause this is way out of hand, yo.”

WE HAD TO SEE IF YOU WERE READY TO COMMIT FULLY TO THE VISION. IF YOU WERE READY TO BECOME A FULL MEMBER OF CONSPIRATOPIA, AND TAKE ON ALL THE PRIVILEGES AND OBLIGATIONS THAT THIS ENTAILS. 

“Obligations like what? Being gaslit by you guys endlessly? Doing weird semi-criminal stuff? This place is SO fucked. You are all fucked in the mind.”

ARE WE, NEO? OR ARE WE SO CRAZY THAT WE’RE THE ONLY ONES WHO ARE SANE? OR WE’RE SO CRAZY THAT WE’RE THE ONLY ONES ABLE TO SEE AND SPEAK THE TRUTH? IT’S THE WORLD THAT IS FUCKED, NEO. WE ARE THE MEDICINE. 

“Whatever you say, man,” I said, and meant it like for real. “I’m getting out of here. I’m gonna try to get my old job at Walmart back and stuff. This was all cool and interesting at first, but now it’s just creepy af.”

When I went to raise my hands though to take off the VR headset, they froze midway, and wouldn’t move.  

“Yo, I thought you said there were no nanites.”

CORRECTION: I SAID “WHAT IF I TOLD YOU THERE WERE NEVER ANY NANITES?”

“So, are there nanites or not?”

IF THERE WERE NOT, WHY ELSE MIGHT YOU ARMS BE FROZEN?

“You paralyzed me? Wtf!!”

NO, NEO. YOU HAVE PARALYZED YOURSELF, WITH YOUR OWN FEAR OF THE TRUTH. 

“Or…” I said, working something out in my mind, “they’re not my real arms. And it’s all just a virtual illusion.”

“DING DING DING!” said the voice over the loudspeaker. The jury members shuffled around, and seemed pleased.

WHERE ARE YOU NOW, NEO? REALLY?

“Uh, I’m in a warehouse just outside of town?”

ARE YOU THOUGH, NEO? REALLY??

“I mean, I think…”

THE MATRIX HAS YOU, NEO. THAT IS THE FALSE WORLD. THIS – THIS IS THE REAL WORLD, NEO. 

“If you say so, man. But I know my body is back there. I don’t want to be a robot forever. Just let me take this thing off. I’m ready to wake tf back up in my bed, and this was all just a dream, and stuff. Give me the goddamned blue pill, already.”

YOU CAN’T UNSEE WHAT YOU HAVE SEEN, NEO. OR UNDO WHAT YOU HAVE DONE.

“What did I do, anyway? You never gave me a straight answer and stuff.”

YOU FREED HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE FROM A FALSE REALITY, NEO. 

“Yeah, and replaced it with another false one, seems like. This place is as fake as everything else. How do I know any of this even exists? I’ve only ever seen it in VR.”

YOU’VE BEEN HERE BY TELEPRESENCE ROBOT, NEO. 

“Which you could fake in VR, easily, my dude.”

SO THEN, YOU’RE READY TO COME HERE PHYSICALLY, WITH YOUR BODY AND STUFF?

“Uh…” I said, not sure if this was another trick. 

THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SAY NO, NEO. TAKE THE BLUE PILL AND WAKE UP IN YOUR BED, AND THIS WAS ALL JUST A DREAM. GO BACK TO WALMART AND HANG OUT WITH YOUR SENIOR CITIZENS. THAT’S TOTALLY COOL WITH US, IF IT’S WHAT YOU REALLY WANT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. BUT YOU’RE SUCH A SMART CONSPIRACY GUY, IS THAT REALLY WHAT YOU WANT? OR IS IT YOU JUST CLING TO THE SAFETY OF THE KNOWN, BUT ARE TANTALIZED BY AN UNKNOWN THAT IS FOREVER OUT OF REACH, AND ARE HAPPY TO NEVER VENTURE OUTSIDE YOUR COMFORT ZONE?

“Yo, that’s harsh,” I said. “Fine. You win. I’ll go.”

A DRIVERLESS ELECTRIC VAN WILL ARRIVE AT THE WAREHOUSE IN FIVE MINUTES. YOU WILL GET IN. THE WINDOWS WILL BE BLACKED OUT, SO YOU CAN’T SEE WHERE YOU ARE GOING. BUT THERE WILL BE TUNES, GAMES, FILMS, SNACKS IN THE MINI-FRIDGE, AND SMOKES. THE SEAT FOLDS OUT INTO A BED, AND THERE’S A TOILET IN THERE IF YOU NEED IT. IT WILL BE LIKE HAVING YOUR OWN APARTMENT. TOTALLY COOL REALLY.

“I’m sure. How long does the trip take, usually?”

THAT WILL BE DECIDED BY THE ALGORITHM, AND WILL NOT BE DISCLOSED TO YOU BEFORE OR DURING. IT MAY BE HOURS OR IT MAY BE DAYS. IF NEEDED, YOUR POD MAY BE TRANSFERRED TO ANOTHER MEANS OF CONVEYANCE TO REACH THE INDICATED DESTINATION. BUT YOU SHOULD NOT FEEL ANY DISCOMFORT, THANKS TO THE UNIT’S GYROSCOPIC STABILIZERS. 

“So, that’s it then? I sit in a box for three days, and then poof? I’m here for real?”

POOF INDEED, NEO. YOU MAY OR MAY NOT ARRIVE AT THIS SPECIFIC LOCALE, BUT YOUR PHYSICAL SURROUNDINGS WILL BE MUCH THE SAME AS WHAT YOU SEE BEFORE YOU NOW. YOUR NEW LIFE WILL FINALLY BEGIN.

“Cool, I guess,” I said. “I could use a new life or something… maybe.”

Conspiratopia: Chapter 11

PARK THE CAR AND THEN GO PUT ON THE VR GOGGLES ON THE FOLDING TABLE.

“Um, this is my mom’s car btw. Nothing will happen to it, right?” I didn’t want them to like send it to a chop shop or smash it into a cube in a junkyard or something. 

YEAH MAN, DON’T WORRY SO MUCH. IT’S JUST TIL THE HEAT DIES DOWN A LITTLE. NOW GO CONNECT TO THAT VR TERMINAL SO WE CAN TRY TO FIX OUR CONNECTION.

I parked the car, got out, and went over to the folding table. The VR goggles were a better model than the one I had at home, so that was pretty sweet. They seemed to be wireless, but I didn’t see any computer anywhere. I put them on anyway, and they came to life as soon as I did.

There was a flat blue background and then some text popped up:

DIAGNOSTIC MODE: PLEASE WAIT

Then a progress bar appeared, but it was like super duper slow and stuff. I started getting really impatient, but then the voice of the Guide came back in the headphones. 

SORRY FOR THE WAIT, MY DUDE. IT’S GONNA BE A FEW MINUTES, UNFORTUNATELY. THINGS GOT KINDA EFFED WHEN THAT DEVICE WAS ARMED.

“No worries,” I said. “Got any games on this thing, at least?”

ACTUALLY, WHILE WE’RE WAITING, WE THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE A GOOD IDEA TO CONTINUE YOUR TOUR.

“My tour?”

OF THE CITY. THE CONSPIRATOPIA PROJECT. YOU UP FOR IT, OR DO YOU NEED TO LAY DOWN LIKE A WUSS OR SOMETHING AFTER ALL THIS EXCITEMENT?

“Haha. Nah, I’m cool, bro. You know me. But you got anything to drink here though? I’m actually thirsty as hell.”

YEAH, THERE’S SOME PURPLE POWERADE IN A MINI-FRIDGE. DON’T TAKE THE HEADSET OFF THOUGH. WE’LL SHOW YOU ON SCREEN HOW TO WALK THERE. 

Some arrows appeared on the floor in VR, and I followed them to a corner of the warehouse I hadn’t seen earlier behind a wall. It was like an office or storage room or something idk. But I saw the mini-fridge on VR, and opened up the fridge IRL, which was a little weird but totally cool. I took out the purple Powerade, opened it and slurped it down. 

“Wait, this doesn’t have like nanites and stuff does it?”

UH, YEAH, ACTUALLY. ELECTROLYTES AND NANITES.

“Dammit, I said no more tricks.” The Powerade was especially good though, but I didn’t let on.

IT’S NOT A TRICK, BRO. WHAT WERE YOU EXPECTING ANYWAY? ALL OUR DRINKS HAVE NANITES. IT’S HOW WE ROLL. PLUS WE GOTTA LIKE REPAIR YOUR CONNECTION, SO IT CAN’T HURT ANYWAYS. 

“Fine, whatever.”

OKAY, LET’S GO THEN.

Just like that, we were back in the City. I was in the telepresence robot I used before or another one just like it. 

“Wait, I don’t have a controller.”

YOU DON’T NEED IT WITH THIS HEADSET. IT’S A MORE ADVANCED MODEL. JUST LEAN FORWARD A LITTLE TO ROLL, BACK TO STOP, OR TO THE SIDE TO TURN. 

I tried it out, and it was sweet as hell. “This is sweet as hell,” I said. It really was sweet as hell. 

IKR? OK SO WE THOUGH IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA TO SHOW YOU WHAT TRIALS ARE LIKE HERE, SINCE YOU’LL HAVE ONE YOURSELF LATER. THIS WAY YOU’RE NOT SURPRISED.

“What does that mean? Why would I be surprised?” 

Some arrows on the ground indicated where I should go, so I followed them while we talked. 

THE JUSTICE SYSTEM IN CONSPIRATOPIA IS NOT LIKE THAT IN YOUR WORLD, WHICH IS VERY CROOKED AND UNFAIR. 

“You’re telling me. I got this parking ticket last summer that was like $400. It was total bullshit! I didn’t even see the no parking sign, and how was I supposed to know you can’t park near a fire hydrant?”

RIGHT? TOTALLY UNFAIR AS HELL. OKAY, HERE WE ARE.

We rolled up to another totally ordinary looking office building. The place was filled with them and stuff. But inside this one was different. It was a big open area, with a bunch of levels arranged in a half circle on one side. We watched while a bunch of other telepresence robots rolled in from a corridor, and went up the ramp on the side that lead to the different levels. I guessed there was at least like a hundred of them and stuff. 

“What’s going on?”

THE JURY IS ASSEMBLING. THE TRIAL IS ABOUT TO BEGIN AND STUFF. 

“Oh, nice.”

Then there was a voice over a loudspeaker or something that said, “WILL THE ACCUSED PLEASE STEP FORWARD?”

Nobody moved. 

“I SAID, WILL THE ACCUSED PLEASE STEP FORWARD AND STUFF?”

Some arrows lit up on the ground in front of me. 

“Wait, what the hell? I thought you said my trial wasn’t til later.”

WE DECIDED TO MOVE THINGS UP A BIT, SINCE YOU’RE DOING SO AWESOME. HOPE YOU DON’T MIND!

The Mysterious phone calls begin…

On the third ring, Jack finally picked up the telephone.

“Hello?” he said unenthusiastically.

A pause, which Jack assumed meant telemarketer or robocaller. Which would it be? The suspense was killing him.

Not really.

“Hi, is this Jack?” a woman’s voice said, with a faint echo, as if coming from a great distance. It sounded human.

“This is he…”

“Hi Jack, this is Angela calling from your bank. I have some important information about your account. Do you have time to talk?”

“My account?” Jack was immediately suspicious. “What bank did you say this was?”

“This is your bank, Jack -”

A pause…

“- National Federal.”

Yes, that was the name of his bank, but this still sounded off. Phishing?

“How do I know that you’re really from my bank, and not some scammer?”

“I can assure you this is no scam, sir. We’re calling to invite you to a new trial program.”

“New trial program?” Jack’s suspicion blended with curiosity.

“That’s right, sir. We’ve selected a special group of customers such as yourself who qualify for an extraordinary no-risk opportunity to increase your wealth ten-fold in one month and a hundred-fold by year’s end.”

“No risk? How is that possible?” Jack wasn’t born yesterday.

“We will back your investment one hundred percent into a new kind of coin associated with our bank.”

“You want me to put my money into Bitcoins? My wife will never let me, sorry.”

“It’s not just Bitcoins, sir. It’s actually a basket of coins, secured by our industry partners.”

“Basket, eh?” Jack was intrigued. “Still, I don’t see how you can offer that without any risk to me. Do you have some kind of insider information about where the market will go?”

A pause.

“I assure you the program is fully legal, sir.”

“All the same, I think I’d like to see it in writing before I can make any decision as important as this.”

“Shall I forward the information to your email, sir?”

“Please do. Do you already have it on file?”

“I do, sir. Thank you. The message has been sent. Let us know when you’re ready to discuss it and we’ll be happy to get you signed up.”

“Great, thank you. Goodbye.”

“Thank you too. Goodbye.”

Subsidiarity (principle)

Wikipedia:

The Oxford English Dictionary defines subsidiarity as, “the principle that a central authority should have a subsidiary function, performing only those tasks which cannot be performed at a more local level.”[1]

Constraints of Science, Human Dignity & Environmental Protection (EU)

Article 13, EU Charter

Freedom of the arts and sciences

The arts and scientific research shall be free of constraint. Academic freedom shall be respected.

It strikes me that science free of constraint on it’s own could be potentially very destructive.

Of course, the Charter begins with Human Dignity:

Human dignity is inviolable. It must be respected and protected.

And is followed by the Right to Life.

But it’s not until Article 37 where we talk about Environmental protection, and fairly weakly:

A high level of environmental protection and the improvement of the quality of the environment must
be integrated into the policies of the Union and ensured in accordance with the principle of sustainable
development.

I understand well the reasons why human life is so primary in a document of human governance, and the risks to property rights people feel would be inherent in giving the natural environment greater protections.

But there’s an argument to be made, that Human Dignity and Right to Life come from fundamentally healthy and functional inter-locking planetary ecosystems.

To not constrain science within such a framework seems, to me, something we will look back on ruefully someday.

But what do I know?

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