Curiosity vs Cancellation
It has been a long time since I have participated in any real way on a social media platform. The last time I did, I read something inflammatory while waiting for my checkup appointment, and ended up having the nurse ask me if I had high blood pressure. That was in 2016.
Around that time, and arguably before, there’s been the growing use of “call-outs” or “cancellations” of people or political parties or companies who were not living up to certain ideals. Over time, this call-out/cancellation culture has blossomed into a beast of a topic that I will leave for someone smarter than me to decipher.
I want to talk about it, not from a social, political, historical, cultural, ideological, or any other of the usual lenses often used to consider it. No, I want to talk about it with an eye towards the ideas of freedom and happiness.
To do this, I’m going to get physical.
No, not like that you weirdo (see what I did there?).
I mean through the lens of actual physics. And since physics, in its most theoretical sense, starts to get philosophical, then I’ll head in that direction and beyond.
I should point out that I barely understand any of it, and am doing this for the fun of it.
We can’t talk about physics without bringing up two of the great physicists of our time, Richard Feynman and Robert Penrose, both Nobel prize winners. As with any theoretical field, ideas and concepts that are unproven can make for contentious relationships, and these two certainly had their differences.
On one occasion, Feynman attended a lecture that was being given by Penrose for the sheer purpose of heckling him! (which, incidentally, takes way more guts than dashing off a few pithy lines on your cell phone) That’s right, Feynman wanted to “call out” Penrose on his ideas and give him a difficult time right there in the lecture.
The funny thing is, when the talk began, Feynman forgot all about his original goal for being there because, well, he got curious. He became so absorbed into the lecture, that when another audience member heckled Penrose, Feynman turned around and told the guy to keep quiet.
Penrose, who is still living and working today, continues to receive criticism for his less-than-mainstream ideas. One of his concerns about our current physical models is that they fail to adequately account for the idea of consciousness.
Another of his concerns is that there doesn’t seem to be a good way to bridge our understanding of classical physics (large objects) and quantum physics (subatomic particles). Most controversially, consciousness, classical, and quantum physics might all be related. But nobody knows how.
This is where stuff gets weird and physicists stop having math to describe things.
Many of them actually look to philosophy for deeper inspiration. One of them, Erwin Schrodinger, (yes, the cat guy) along with other heavy hitters such as Tesla, Oppenheimer, and Heisenberg actually began to study ancient Vedic texts. Schrodinger gained insights as he had personal experience with the practices. One of the most important insights he had was:
“…the overall number of minds is just one.”
The implications of this “rational mysticism” is that we are all beings who are aware through the same consciousness. Through one mind observing itself.
We are simply different aspects of one larger consciousness and we only think we are separate. We think we are an observer looking at the world (an object) which seems separate from us, when in fact we are the same thing. There is no difference between the observer and the object observed.
When I think about things like call-out/cancellation culture through this more mystical lens, it gets even weirder. If I call you out (hey weirdo), am I just calling out another representation of my own conscious self? If I put someone down because they are different from me, am I merely criticizing myself in a different physical form?
In that context “you get what you give” takes on a radical new meaning.
If we get out of physics and jump deeper into spiritual tradition, this concept actually becomes more mainstream. The golden rule, for example, seems less a moral admonishment and more about practicing self-kindness.
If I do unto another how I’d want them to do unto me, I’m likely better off as a result. Or how about this: “be the change you wish to see in the world”; as if by becoming something better ourselves, we might see it reflected back to us. Another one that I am personally working on is: “judge not lest ye be judged” pointing again to the possibility that we might all be the same conscious mind.
I’m guessing that cancelling someone falls outside of these bits of wisdom.
And sure, when people do wrong, they should have consequences. Maybe an apology is in order. Maybe jail time. But if we can see another person as deeply connected to ourselves, we might begin to get curious about them. About how to help them avoid the same pitfalls in the future. If we see them as separate, we don’t care if their life gets ruined or if they rot in jail…and that’s not exactly high moral ground either.
And this is where I want to get back to Feynman and Penrose. Feynman could have let his differences in viewpoint get the better of him. Instead, he allowed his curiosity to take the lead. Instead of letting his deeply held and very scientifically rational views cause a separation between him and a colleague, he listened intently and gained a wider perspective.
What does any of this have to do with freedom and happiness?
I thought you’d never ask.
Our culture is pretty polarized, which means we might always be running into people with exactly the opposite point of view. These days, this happens mostly online. Sometimes, that can be an emotional experience. We feel our blood pressure climb (like I did that fateful day at my doctor’s office), our resistance emerge, and our disgust blossom into outrage. Because that person just doesn’t get it.
But, I think we have a choice. We can stay with that emotional response, or we can get curious. Happiness, after all, comes from meaningful connections with other humans. If we get curious, we keep open to the possibility that we might make a connection. If we get curious, we then allow someone to get curious about us. I’ll probably never change someone’s mind while arguing with them or calling them out, but I might cause them to think a little differently by listening to them.
Why bother? Because I do believe we are all connected…and just like the physicists, I have no idea how. But, for the times when I miss the mark or stick my foot in my mouth (AGAIN), I’m hoping for the same amount of grace that I show to others for doing something similar.
