Wednesday, February 19, 2025

The wild cowboy: the Machine

Think of the cowboy on the back of his horse. The cowboy tells his horse what to do and the horse does it. This working relationship between and his horse seems perfectly natural. Now imagine the horse riding the cowboy. It not only seems unnatural, not to mention ludicrous, but impossible. And yet today, social critics believe that is exactly what has happened.

Emerson put the idea this way: 

Things are in the saddle
And ride mankind.
There are two laws discrete,
Law for man, and law for thing;
The last builds town and fleet,
But it runs wild,
And doth the man unking.[1] 

About 150 years later, it seems that the “thing,” or technology or the Machine, is firmly in the saddle. This view states that today the Machine is the predominant influence on human thought and activity, in sum human culture. Furthermore, the Machine as a totality has become autonomous since human beings have been so thoroughly brought under its spell. Human beings may think they are free, but they are not. “Neither nature nor culture now determines social structure,”[2] Thomas Hughes tells us, because “technological systems have become the determiner.”

Little Control

To see just how little control people have today over the Machine (the author prefers the word Machine to other words such as technology or system because it conveys the idea of a unified, dynamic object or system that the components of which have been organized to achieve specific, desired ends, some simple, others complex. It comes in multiple forms, and may be as large as a city such as New York or as small as an automobile or better yet a smart phone that keeps humans on an electronic leash. Machines such as these have taken control of people’s lives. Of course, they have beneficial uses; otherwise, they would not have been built. However, their influence almost always has harmful side effects. For decades the dominant concerned has been the degradation of living environments.

For example, Los Angeles has an air pollution problem that will cost 9.4 billion dollars this year in health-related costs alone.[3] That is a lot of money, but more important it reflects a lot of suffering, especially among children. In addition, one hundred plant and animal species are driven to extinction each year (1,000 time the prehistory rate.) Industrial and chemical pollutants threaten to change the wealth (via the greenhouse effect) and destroy the ozone which protects humans from dangerous ultraviolet radiation that comes from the sun.[4] The environment is being threaten on every front. This does not mean that humans will destroy the environment, but they may change it so that it is no longer conducive to human life. As Gregg Easterbrook puts it, “Nature doesn’t care if the globe is populated by trilobites or thunder lizards or people or six-eyed telepathic slugs.”[5]

Basis for Modern Society

But people generally do care. So why don’t they, we, do something about these problems? One reason is that the Machine is inherently a polluter and it is also the basis for modern society. We have come to depend on it. To get rid of the Machine would be to throw the baby out with the bath. Our situation is like air travelers who, 37,000 feet above the Atlantic, decide they don’t want to fly. Another reason we can’t seem to control the Machine is that our thinking has been so influenced by it that we have forgotten how to think in non-Machine terms. Consequently, when the Machine creates a problem, we usually turn to the Machine to solve it.

Furthermore, our  values have become Machine-oriented. No one today seems satisfied. And traditional sources of meaning—family, children work, community, art, education, religion, etc.—compete poorly with going to Mars or even with owning a Mercedes Benz automobile. Even the old technology quickly becomes boring unless something new is introduced—or it becomes boring because something new is introduced.

Can't Say “No”

Thus we find ourselves on a wheel of endless pursuit of satisfaction that we believe only the Machine can provide. We have come to depend on the Machine as a source of meaning and in doing so have given ourselves over to its control. We simply cannot say “no” to the Machine. If the Machine says it is possible to build a Stealth bomber at $530 million per plane, we build it. If the Machine says that we can go to Mars, then, as the Time Magazine headline exclaims, “It is the time for the U.S. to head for Mars.”[6]

Free time is an important indicator of the amount of control we have over our lives. When free time becomes scarce, there is a definite sense that forces greater than ourselves are in control of our lives. It is like driving a car and discovering suddenly that the brakes are gone. One moment we had complete control, and the next we find we can’t stop at all. Having free time in our lives means being able to stop to look at the scenery or to take a walk with our children. When we find there is less time for such activities, then we know that we have given control over our lives to something else.

More Work, Less Free Time

One would think that as more efficient and productive machines are built that people would be working less and have more time for those many other interests that make well-rounded human beings. But to think that the Machine creates free tome is to misunderstand the nature and influence of the Machine. For example, consider the fact tht the works f the two most technologically advanced nations of the 20th century work more than twice as long as their prehistorical ancestors.

The Kung Bushmen, for example, whose hunting and gathering cultures represents a way ofe that has existed for 40,000 years. Their workweek includes from 12 to 19 hours of labor. And though their lives are materially poor compared our own, they are not empty. They devote their free time to “such activities as visiting and entertaining friends and relatives, and engaging in dances that put the participants into a trance.”[7] Without the help of drugs such as Cocaine and Ecstasy because dancing itself is enchanting. Placing oneself in a trance might seem primitively inconsistent with modernity—the age of machines. Yet, the Machine (its communication technologies) has become modernity’s pied piper.

In case the reader believes that being placed in a trance has no place in modern society, he or she has to consider that the average American family huddled around the mesmerizing glow of the TV. Or not if the children are in their rooms playing video games or watching their favorite shows on the computer. Being in a trance is compared to being in a mental state induced by hypnosis. Yet, haven’t the various media of the Machine had a hypnotic effect on modern societies? The Pied Pipers of the Machine captures minds and lead the people under their thrall to an alternate, artificial reality created by the Machine. They are like Dorothy and her dog Toto who are swept away to the Land of Oz by a tornado. But Dorothy escapes from Oz and returns to the real world, the Earthworld. That’s not so easy for people living in a Machine world. Ponder the motorist who, with his head jerking rhythmically up and down, turns and smiles at you uncomprehendingly. Or, reflect on those ubiquitous joggers and walkers who tread intently onward in sync with the hidden drumbeat of their portable music device or scanning their smart phone.

Getting back to work, the point is that technological advancement did not reduce the mount of work to be performed. In fact, the workday first increased substantially with two technological innovations that should have, one would have expected, reduced the energy and time needed to grow food: the plow and the harness. These two inventions, along with a few other minor inventions, such as the wheel, brought into being agrarian society.[8]

Less Time for Dancing

With these inventions, people would find that there would be even less time for dancing. Even today, the most technologically advanced farmer in the world, the American farmer, has not seen his workday shortened, though his standard of living has improved. One reason for this is that technologies that make the American farmer the most productive in the world are expensive, requiring more land and more work to pay for them. Technological utopians, such as H.G. Wells and Karl Marx, thought the Machine would ultimately free humans from work. About the influence of the Machine on human labor, H.G. Wells says in his A Modern Utopia (1905), “There are some foreshadowings of mechanical possibilities in ‘New Atlantis’ [a utopian work written by Francis Bacon, published 1624], but it is only in the 19th century that Utopias appeared in which the fact is clearly recognized that the social fabric rests no longer upon human labour.”[9]

As recently as 1969 this expectation was expressed in “testimony before a Senate Subcommittee [which] indicated that by 1985 people could be working just 22 hours a week or 27 weeks a year or could retire at 38.”[10] But these high-tech utopians did not understand the Machine. And as the reader knows full well, their expectations turned out to be overly optimistic. To the contrary, the amount of leisure time enjoyed by the average American has shrunk 37% since 1973, and the average workweek, including commuting time, has jumped from under 41 hours to nearly 47 hours.[11] Japanese workers have even less free time, working 360 hours more a year than the average work in the United States.[12] Why isn’t there more time? Because all the time-saving devices require more time—to pay for, to keep up with, and to understand.

Machine Paradigm

The Machine not only requires more work, but greater control over the worker. Almost all forms of work are organized to some degree according to the Machine Paradigm (the idea that the Machine is the ideal model of operation, each part of the operation performing a specific function, under complete control of the mechanical system, having no more value or importance otehr than the function it performs.) This method analyzes work into a mechanistic, segmented process that structures the worker’s activity into a predetermined and predictable pattern. The result from the increasing specialization and control may be work alienation, dissatisfaction with or indifference to the work being performed. Unalienating work on the other hand, is often hard, dirty, long dangerous or low paying, but it is also seen by the worker as having inherent value. Workers who operate machines such as trucks, tractors, cranes, boats, etc. consider their work meaningful not only because it requires skill, but because it gives workers a sense of control, a sense of being free in their work.

Two Key Factors

There seem to be two keay factors to worker satisfaction. The first is the worker’s relationship to his or her work. The unalienated worker usually has greater control over a significantly complex task. If the work, with the help of the Machine Paradigm, has been rationalized into discrete segments of a continuing process (mail sorting, for example), then the work becomes meaningless and seemingly in control of the worker.

Why isn’t there more time?

Because all the time-saving devices require more time

to pay for, to keep up with, and to understand.

Some companies, in order to reduced turnover, have done way with the Machine Paradigm for certain tasks in order to make tasks more meaningful for the worker. Indiana Bell Telephone , for example, used to use an assembly-line method involving 21 steps. Turnover, a sensitive measure of work morale, was reduced by 50%.[13] The other factor is the relationship existing between and department or the company. If workers believe that their only value to the organization is functional or utilitarian (the organization being seen as a large, impersonal Machine), workers will become alienated.

The factory was the first to use the Machine Paradigm as an ideal model for organizing the work of its employees. The assembly line broke the work into simple segment so that the worker no longer had control of the entire job. Ultimately, worker lost control over the quantity, quality, direction, and pace of the work.[14]

Lost Control

The result was workers became alienated from their work, but no because it was hard, dirty, long, dangerous or even low paying. Workers became alienated because they were no longer using the Machine, but being used by it. They were simply cogs in a long, complicated mechanical process. They might have control over a particular step of the process, such as operating and arc welder or drill punch, but they had little influence upon the process itself. Furthermore, because they no longer perform complete job but only a single discrete step in the process, their work became meaningless as it became trivial. For these workers, work had become an impersonal activity which they could neither identify with nor control.

Henry Ford had used the Machine Paradigm as the model for organizing labor into a continuing mechanical process. The goal was to systematize and schedule all aspects of the working operation, including sales, service, manufacturing and management. Most work was no longer as hard, dirty, long, dangerous or low paying as it once was, but the work had become mechanical and meaningless and the system had become impersonal and threatening. Men like Henry [15]Ford and Frederick Taylor (the father of scientific management) knew that in most cases the Machine Paradigm degraded the work performed, but both men correctly realized that systemization increased efficiency and productivity. Furthermore, they believed, incorrectly, that the increasing rewards would compensate or any loss of significance workers might experience.)

High Rate of Turnover

For example, 1914 Ford’s workers were the highest paid in the automotive industry, an unprecedented $5 per day. And yet, the high rate of employee turnover remained—380% in 1913 at the Highland Park factory. For every hundred employees needed, the company would have to hire 963. The wife of one worker wrote Ford the following: “The chain system you have is a slave driver. My God! Mr. Ford. My husband has come home and thrown himself down and won’t eat his supper—so done out! Can’t it be remedied?... That $5 is a blessing—a bigger one than you know—but, oh they earn it.”[16]

What this woman did not understand was that from Ford’s point of view, which was that of the Machine Paradigm, the worker’s only significance was is small role in the manufacturing operation. Her point of view as the worker’s wife was different. Let’s call it organic and human since it places the individual, her husband, at the center of concern. Furthermore, she did not understand that Ford had created a system over which he no longer had any control. The system demanded the type of work performed by the wife’s husband. The system could be changed, of course, but any system based on the Machine Paradigm, any system that is going to be optimally efficient and productive, tends to dominate and exploit the worker.

In other words, it is the nature of the Machine to exploit the worker in such a way as to make the worker more productive and efficient.

Sometimes, changes in the Machine actually do enhance the quality of work; riding a tractor is preferable to walking behind a mule. However, such enhancements are secondary to the primary principle of change in the workplace, which is to increase efficiency and productivity. Of course, Machine efficiency may have to be sacrificed to minimize other losses such as workers’ alienation and turnover.[17]

Mere Pawns

The major problem seems to be that workers believe that they have little control over their lives as workers and that they are merely pawns in the large Corporate Machine which uses them. Are workers happier today in a Machine-oriented society? Apparently a large number of them are not. Research published in a book titled The Cynical Americans: Living and working in the Age of Discontent and Disillusion says that in 1983 43% of American worker were cynical about their jobs and 16% are wary.[18] In some groups it is even higher: blue collar workers, 54%; secretaries and clerks, 48%; public utilities, 72%. Cynicism was lowest among professional workers, 34%.[19] As related to the worker, cynicism can be seen as an indicator of alienation.

The Machine is much kinder to consumers. However, the high degree of control and influence exerted by the Machine remain. When a job is alienating, it is up to management to convince workers that the job really is meaningful and satisfying if only workers will look beyond their specific task to the broader significance of the entire operation. With consumers it is the job of advertising to convince consumers that they need something that they in fact do not need. According to Montagu and Matson, “Management of consumer demand is the manufacture of need and the engineering of tastes.”[20] The results of this engineering are that consumers are led further and further from traditional values and drawn increasingly under the influence of the Machine’s values.

In Alvin Toffler’s The Third Wave we are told: “The market, which was subordinated to the social or religious-cultural goals of early societies, came to set the goals of industrial society. Most people were sucked into the money system. Commercial values became central.”[21]

Change in Values

Though one might hesitate to argue that the Machine seeks to destroy traditional values, the Machine does seem to have an inherent tendency to commercialize or replace them with values that increase dependence upon the Machine. Older Americans, those who were adults during World War II, are especially aware of the change in values that has been an industrial society since 1870—when machine-based industry replaced agriculture as he most important economic activity[22]—it was not until the 1940s that the values of the average American began to change dramatically.

It was about this time that America began to shift from a work-oriented society to a consumer-oriented society, which would eventually result in a radical decline of the importance of traditional values. Thus we see a shift in the way Americans value children, the family, the community, religion, and work, as well as the importance of secondary traditional values such as art and education. It is not surprising that our greatest economic competitor, Japan, is also becoming acutely aware of the threats to its traditional values ever since the Machine became the dominant influence in Japanese society.

The Machine has an inherent tendency

to commercialize traditional values

or replace them with values that increase

dependence on the Machine.

The increasing affluence that has made many Japanese eager to adopt the American consumer-oriented way of life, as the following editorial in an Asahi newspaper attests: “Japan has become the richest country with money earned abroad—but only in bookkeeping... Living in Japan, there no feeling of being rich.... It is high time to change the Japanese way of thinking.”[23] Other Japanese fear that the new way of life offered by the Machine will soon destroy their traditional culture and its values. As one would expect, both groups turn to America as their example.

Although older Americans are now aware of the fact that the way of life that produced their values no longer exists as the dominant influence in American society, they often are not aware of the crucial role the Machine has played in causing the shift in the American worldview and value system. It is tempting to blame the new generation for the decline in traditional values, but this explanation is not very satisfactory and perhaps unfair.

Our Changing Worldview

One of two things changes the traditional worldview: either new ideas or new things. Some social critics like Alan Bloom (The Closing of the American Mind) emphasize ideas. Bloom, being a philosopher, would probably tend to look to ideas as the major source of influence. Nevertheless, new ideas have not had a significant influence unless the material conditions of the society are conducive to the acceptance of those ideas. For example, had the working classes of France and Russia not been abused and exploited by selfish and uncompromising ruling classes, revolutions implemented new social-political paradigms might not have occurred.

Although the influence of ideas remains relevant to the situation in modern America, the ideological explanation does not sufficiently take into account the tremendous influence the Machine (technology) has had on American society since World War II, such as the unprecedented affluence of the middle class and (believe it or not) the introduction of television into American society.

The Entertainment Machine

Let’s take a closer look at the influence of television and similar entertainment technologies. It is natural to blame the decline of traditional values on the content of certain forms of entertainment, such as rock music, television and motions pictures. It is is natural because machines are thought to have neutral value: “Guns don’t kill people; people kill people.” The motivating factor is the idea, not the thing. Yet, as true as this is, it ignores the influence of the gun.

Guns themselves embody an idea. In handguns the only idea is to “kill people.” In America, where there is a profusion of handguns in the homes, on television, in movies, and in stores, the weapon has created its own mystique and mythology, thus having become a dominant influence upon the American mind. In other words, things are not neutral, but influence the way people think about their world and the way they deal with it. Consider the ideas embodied in certain specialized environments, such as a church, a playground, or a university. The ideas are those of worshipping, playing, and learning. The objects of these environments express various ways of perceiving and relating to and the world. They influence our perception as well as our attitudes.

Now mentally walk into a gun store. You would see something like this with handguns on the opposite wall:


One’s relationship to the world changes dramatically. The idea is death, and too often the idea is acted upon. In the first week of May 1989,[24] for example, 464 people were killed by guns in America.

Neutral Presence

People often take the same attitude toward entertainment technologies as they do toward guns—assuming their presence is neutral. Or, at best, they will attribute any influence to the content of the various entertainment media. Recognizing this influence, as well as the fact that the content itself often reflects consumer values created by the Machine, it is also necessary to recognize that the media themselves are no less influential. Consider, for example, the pervasiveness and accessibility of the most popular form of the Entertainment Machine. Music is now available to anyone, anyplace, anytime on radios, tapes, records, compact discs, personal stereos, “boom boxes,” etc. Revision offers almost as many technological variations, and is probably the overall winner since it is turned on an average of eight hours a day in American homes. [TV has become a grandparent Machine surrounded by a plethora of new audio-video Machines.] With the advent of home as an entertainment center, video games and the VCR, the television is without a doubt the most influential institution in American culture.

Little Time or Learning

What is so impressive about this is how entertainment technology has inundated society with so much entertainment, so much that Americans spend 25 to 30 percent of their time being entertained by a machine of one kind or another. Content aside, so much time devoted to the Entertainment Machine is bound to have drastic consequences. Children who have spent 16,000 hours of their short childhood before the television set (in addition to the time spent plugged into their pop music machines) simply cannot have much time left over for learning activities.

The Machine has not only made entertainment pervasive, it has made it easy. The might be characterized as a “dumbing down effect,” meaning that the entertainment skills that people themselves once aspired to acquire now been invested in the Machine. Simply put, the entertainment Machine encourages passivity rather than activity. Skilled participators become unskilled spectators.

The passive audience’s trance-like state requires only the lowest level of cognitive operation.  Unlike playing a musical instrument, painting a picture, sewing a dress or even reading a book(which does improve literacy as well as other thinking skills), there are no cognitive skills—beyond simple consciousness—needed for most forms of entertainment provided by the Entertainment Machine. It is not surprising that young people who spend most of thier time being passively entertained find it much more difficult to engage themselves in intellectually demanding tasks.

With the advent of the home

video games and the VCR, the

television has become the most

influential institution in

American culture.

The Obvious Threat

The threat to the Work Machine is obvious. Preoccupation with passive form of entertainment produces personalities and mind unsuited or the intellectual demands made upon them by school and work in a technological society. The Work Machine is bound to suffer more directly from the “dumbing-down effect” of the Entertainment Machine, as well as from the loss of thousands of hours that every individual could have devoted to intellectual development. The result is that the Entertainment Machine robs its brother, the Work Machine, of intelligent workers capable of engaging in complex tasks with intellectual skill.

A society that is saturated by entertainment is bound to become entertainment-oriented. One of he results of the work-to-entertainment paradigm shift is the decline of the work ethic (which basically says that work is good if not always fun). There is an ever-widening gap between the world of work and the world of entertainment, with the result that increasingly work is seen as a necessary evil.

Preoccupation with Entertainment

In addition, very little of the content of pop music, television, and modern motion pictures applauds the value of work (beer commercials being the most notable exception). The result of the preoccupation with the Entertainment Machine is that work has lost much of its status as a cultural value.

However, the Work Machine is better at adapting than those poor unprepared young people who have been led to La La Land by that pied piper the Entertainment Machine. When the Work Machine loses a worker because of the “dumbing-down effect” of the Entertainment Machine, it simply creates a smarter machine to do the job. Once the youngster awakens from the Entertainment Machine induced reverie he might find himself barely making a living at a low-paying service job or unemployed. The Machine, like nature, is indifferent to the fate of the individual who chose to be entertained rather than educated. And playing catch-up is difficult as an adult struggling to survive in an intellectually demanding world. Many people never do catch up. And the Machine does not care.

False Utopia

As the new generation comes under the influence of the Machine, it is no wonder that the old generation often does not recognize its own children. The Machine that was so lovingly created by the old generation for all the new would radically change the values of he new generation. The Machine was a gift from the parent generation that had known the scarcity of the Great Depression and the sacrifice required by World War II.

This was a generation that was devoted to its children, to its community, and to its country. It was a generation that, out of love, generosity, and a profound devotion to work, created an affluent utopia for its children. For them, the Machine that made the utopia possible was simply that, a machine. That it could transform the American way of life and the American value system did not seem possible, and was hardly a consideration when it was ostensibly the cause of such dramatic improvement in the material quality of American life.

One recalls the transforming touch of King Midas who loved three things more than anything else: first his daughter, then his rose garden, and finally gold. Through the good deed of saving a satyr he earned wish and he chose to be able to transform anything he touched into gold. That seemed like a good idea in theory, but when he touched the flowers of his garden they turned to gold, and when he touched his daughter she too turned to gold. The effect of the machine was similarly pervasive. In less than a century it had a transforming effect on every aspect of American life, upon the workplace, the community, and the home. The older generation created a Machine of extraordinary transformational power and bequeathed it to its children only to discover that transformed them as well.

The new generation would soon lose touch with the values of the Machine’s creators. The new way of life that the younger generation would embrace would be that of consumerism; a life preoccupied with the Machine and its endless diversions. They would revel in their own Midas touch and disregard its control and corrupting influence. (In Japan this new generation is call shinjinrui or new human beings, the new breed of consumers.)[25]

As a result, the new generation’s devotion to the old community, to the old religion and its ethical worldview, to the old America, to its children, and even to its own parents, would decrease or disappear whenever that devotion conflicted with the pursuit of the newly-created wealth that flowed endlessly from the Machine that had been so loving built. Today we live in a new world, a world that is materially far superior to that of the old. Few Americans, young or old, would want to return to the old pre-Machine world. And yet, Americans are becoming increasingly aware that a good as the changes have been, they have exacted a price, not only from the physical environment, but also from the cultural soul of the people. The old way of life, to use the jargon of the car salesman, has served a the trade-in for the new.

Americans are also beginning to realize that such costs can ultimately destroy much, if not all, of the good that has been accomplished. A nation that spends most of it leisure time watching TV and adoring pop stars such s Roseanne Barr—“TV’s hottest star,” says Time magazine,[26] and Kevin Costner (described on the cover of Time as “The new American hero: Smart, Sexy and on a Roll”[27])—will not long be able to sustain a culture that is either affluent or spiritually meaningful.

Nor can a nation that is

quickly depleting its

resources and poisoning its

environment expect to

maintain or very long a

materially high quality of life.

Nor can a nation that is quickly depleting its resources and poisoning its environment expect to maintain for very long a materially high quality of life. Finally, a people that finds, for whatever reason, that their work has become drudgery, will not only have lost one of the most significant sources of meaning in life, but will no longer be able to afford the affluence that has been made possible by those Americans who loved to work even more than they loved to spend.

Show Some Self-Control

If Americans want to keep the technological gains that they have made and not totally abandoned the values of the old world, then they are going to have to start thinking about just what it is they want fro the Machine, as well as about what they do not want from it. Then they must act upon their conclusions. They are going to have to show some self-control as well as control over the vast Machine they have created.

As it stands, the influence of the Machine is supreme because Americans have failed to control their consumerist appetite. This appetite is typical of a society trying to fill the void created by the abandonment of traditional sources of meaning. If Americans, and the rest of the world, fail to control themselves, then things will remain in the saddle and continue to ride mankind. And as long as that situation prevails, the future America society, and that of humankind in general, will remain uncertain.


[1] Abert Borgman, Technology and the Character of Contemporary life. (Chicago: U. of Chicago Press, 1984), p. 58.

[2] Thomas Hughes, American Genesis: A Century of Invention nd Technological Enthusiasm—1879-1970. (New York: Viking, 1989), p. 58.

[3] Alina Tugend, “Cost of Smog: $9.4 Billion a Year,” Los Angeles Herald Examiner, 7 July 1989, p.1.

[4] “Planet of the Year: What on Earth Are We Doing?” (cover story), Time, 2 January 1989, pp. 26-73, 54.

[5] Gregg Easterbrook, “Cleaning Up,” Newsweek, 24 July, 1989, p. 50.

[6] “Michael Lemonick, “The Next Giant Leap for Mankind,” Time, 24 July 1989, p. 50.

[7] Rudi Volti, Society and Technological Change (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1988), p.89.

[8] Gerhard Lenski nd Jean Lenski, Human Societies: An Introduction to Macrosociology, 5th ed., (New York: McGraw Hill, 1987), p.164.

[9] H.G. Wells, “A Modern Utopia,” The Quest for Utopia, eds., Glenn Negley and J. Max Patrick (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, Anchor Books, 1962), pl 234.

[10] Nancy Gbbs, “How America Has Run Out of Time,” Time, 24 April, 1989, p 59.

[11] Ibid., p. 58.

[12] Karl Schoenberger, “Self-Denial Wears Thin for Japanese, ” Los Angeles Times, 7 July 1989, p. 11.

[13] Lenski, p. 283.

[14] Bernard Gendron, Technology and The Human Condition (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1977), p. 136.

[15] Hughes, p. 219.

[16] Ibid., p. 219.

[17] Lenski, p. 283.

[18] Donald Kanter and Philip Mirvis,  Living and working in the Age of Discontent and Disillusion (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1989), p. 10.

[19] Ibid., pp. 170-173.

[20] Ashley Montagu and Floyd Matson, The Dehumanization of Man (New York: McGraw-Hill 1983), p. 114.

[21] Alvin Toffler, The Third Wave (New York: Bantam, 1982), p. 40.

[22] Lensky, p. 237.

[23] Schoenberger, p. 11.

[24] The year this essay was written and published in Coleman College’s magazine Aim High was 1989. Has the gun situation improved much since then? Not according to the BBC December 17, 2024 article “How many US mass shootings have there been in 2024?”: “There have been more than 488 mass shootings [an incident in which four or more people are injured or killed] across the US so far in 2024. For each of the last four years there have been more than 600 mass shootings - almost two a day on average.” Or The Trace (Dec 31, 2024): “16,576 - The number of firearm deaths, excluding suicides, in 2024.”

[25] Schoenberger, p. 10.

[26] “Slightly to the Left of Normal,” Time, 8 May 1989, p. 82.

[27] “Kevin Costner: The New American Hero—Smart, Sexy and on a Roll,” (cover story), Time, 26June 1989, pp. 76-82.

Saturday, February 15, 2025

The Limits of Postmodernism

 Preface: The Journey that Became a Destination

Coleman College paid for me to take a train to University of Nebraska at Kearney to present a paper titled “Seeking the Postmodern Project.” The conference was “Modernity, Postmodernity, and the Problem of Reception: Nietzsche and the Consequences.” It was put on by the German language department. It became a special experience for me for reasons having nothing to do with the conference. Coleman College allowed me to take a train from Fullerton, California, to Hastings, Nebraska. I argued that the train would get me closer to Kearney than a plane would. That was a true, but the route was very long, passing through the enchanting states of California, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, Kansas, and Nebraska. I enjoyed every minute of the trip. The train let me off at about 3 AM. It was a wintry morning and the town was asleep. The car I reserved was all alone in the train station parking lot with the keys inside. During the drive to Kearney I saw migrating geese. I got out of the car to watch and listen to them as they passed over high above in the gray sky. During the conference I drove out to a prairie-grass reserve. There I stood and looked upon a remnant of the ancient prairie. A mystical experience? Perhaps.

Seeing the geese and prairie grass meant more to me than the talk about Nietzsche, though I didn’t say that to my boss Dr. Coleman Furr, though I think he would have understood because he had a desert home in Yuma, Arizona. My talk was on Nietzsche and Hemingway. But I rewrote it for its publication in the Platte Valley Review (winter 1995, volume 23, number 1). Nietzsche was still present, but having viewed the Great Plains from the train and in person I replaced Hemingway with the Pawnee Indians, the ancient dwellers of that ancient land. In the words of poet William Cullen Bryant, it was the place where,

The red man came—

The roaming hunter tribes, warlike and fierce,

And the mound-builders vanished from the earth.

The solitude of centuries untold

Has settled where they dwelt. (“The Prairies”)

The title of my article became “The Limits of Postmodernism.” A question that came to mind was “Are our lives, more comfortable and less vulnerable to daily hazards, more meaningful than the early lives of the red and white settlers of the prairies?” 

The Limits of Postmodernism 

I want to reflect on the project of postmodernism and pay tribute to this place—the city of Kearney and the state of Nebraska. Also pay tribute to the peoples who have called this place home—Americans and the native peoples, most recently the Pawnee—and indirectly to Nietzsche, who valued perhaps most of all living simply and honestly, who understood life to be a drama of very basic forces, who believed Western culture had created a worldview so cluttered by false notions and meaningless distractions that it had lost sight of the simple yet dramatic realities of living.

Postmodernism is essentially a historical period, not a project. But once people like ourselves become aware of the postmodern condition and begin to explore it, define it, and respond to it, it evolves into a kind of project. Even if the postmodern means that all projects are finished, insofar as they no longer have final legitimacy, then learning to live meaningfully, truthfully, beneficially in such a world becomes our project.

Having a clearly defined project enables individuals and cultures to move confidently into the future by giving them a clear sense of direction. And though many postmodern thinkers suggest certain directions, certainly the postmodern condition is characterized by the lack of a universal project capable of giving definition to society or to the individual. Western society has been characterized by its universal religious and secular projects contained in grand mythic narratives and expressed in ideologies. The postmodern world, on the other hand, offers no clear project that society or the individual can aspire to, no imperatives for living rooted in a general ontology.

The first task is to reconsider whether the worldview of postmodernism or modernism or the Western religious tradition can adequately serve as the basis for a new project. Western culture has taken a good deal of pride in replacing traditional cultures, even those of its own. But now in this post-modern period, when even the final projects of modernism have been called into question, it is time to consider whether or not the culture that evolved out of Western philosophy, religion, science, and technology is really truer, better, more meaningful than even those first cultures that existed before the great civilizations.

Take, for example, the Pawnee who lived in the region. Are our truths more profound and satisfying? Do they more accurately express the reality of the lifeworld? To think that these people whose relationship to the world was one of immediacy did not understand the world seems to me arrogant and misguided. Do we really understand life more clearly? I do not think we do. How can we, isolated as we are from the primordial world, that first and final world, by the clutter of our intellectual, artistic, and technological creations? I believe that we, the critics and philosophers of the postmodern, have created a complex symbolic universe that may provide us with a fascinating dwelling place but does not effectively serve the lives of most people. Do we really need all this? Do the people of this city Kearny—these farmers, merchants, parents, and children–need what we have to offer? Does our talk really get to some important truth that can lead them or anyone to a way of life that is truer and more noble than the one we see about us here on the great plains of Nebraska? Or is what we have to offer simply more of the intellectual clutter that has poured so profusely from the Western tradition?

Note the words of planting from one of the primordials, those people who dwelled in the first world, these the words of the Navajo: 

The sacred blue corn-seed I am planting

In one night it will grow and flourish

In one night the corn increases

In the garden of the House God


The sacred white corn-seed I am planting,

In one day it will grow and ripen,

In one day the corn increases,

In its beauty it increases.[1] 

Does all of our knowledge enable us to live more truthfully, meaningfully, and appreciatively than this? What do we offer instead? This was once a world where all things and activities were sacred. This was a world where life and language were simple and profound.

Language creates, translates, and reveals reality for human beings, but I ask what greater thing our modern theoretical systems do than are accomplish by the simple expressions of the Navajo. Is our world truer? Is it more noble? Have we greater insight? Or have we created a universe of words that imprison us, that separate us from the world that is truly our flesh, our mother, our origin, and our end? Language can create the illusion of reality; it can become an artificial reality. Moderns are awash in language and yet have, it seems to me, very little experience or understanding of reality. And the postmoderns seem to have lost their way in this complex linguistic universe, and even seem to be cheerful at having become lost.

The Pawnee who once grew their corn and hunted buffalo here, the farmers who still take their living from the earth, they are not lost, and they have little need of what we offer. So what is it we as postmoderns offer? What are we about? If it is we who are the educators, then we must accept the responsibility of leadership, but the direction of that leadership remains unclear to me. Or if there is some direction but we cannot communicate it simply and clearly to ordinary people, to farmers, merchants, students, then what we do is really of little value and we have little to offer. For unlike doctors who help their patients with treatments and medicines, we have only our language to offer to those who seek some direction in the postmodern world. When I offer direction to my students, I do not send them to the texts of the postmoderns, which they cannot comprehend, but to those simple words of the believers, artists, or Native Americans, who I believe lived lives far more simple, truthful, honest, and beautiful than those of moderns or postmoderns. I fear that we have lost our way and are not really interested in finding a direction, which would, as a result, dislocate the self from the center of attention.

Is reality as complex as our philosophical, scientific, aesthetic, and even religious systems would have us believe? Yesterday I drove about the countryside, walked upon a dusty road, and even walked upon a remnant of ancient prairie. What I saw was wonderful yet to very simple. Certainly the individual forms of this vast expanse—the river, sky, land, and the animals and plants—are complex, and wonderful in their complexity, even mystery; but their purpose, their ultimate reason for being, seems to me to be manifest. They simply are. It is the appearance, not its cause, that is the final and important reality.

I marvel at the red-tailed hawk that sails overhead on giant wings, its ancient head gazing keenly at the world below. If I dissect this beast and master the mechanics of its organism, do I really understand its reality any better? I do not think so. It is what it appears to be, a creature of the world that seeks to continue its being, to stay out of harm’s way, to enjoy the simple pleasures that happen to be associated with its particular form. I believe we have overly complicated our lives, and postmodern theory has simply added to the muddle. As leaders, experts in the present condition of humanity, we must consider carefully what it is we should be conveying to others. Are we leading our students to some place where the vision of life is clear, fine, and satisfying, or are we continuing the long history of complicating life and obfuscating what is real?

The Western tradition began with the complex symbolic universe of ideas created out of ancient religious narratives and Greek philosophy. The tradition has spent 2000 years adding to, understanding, verifying, and more recently, attempting to simplify itself. Postmodernism seems to be the last stage—a realization that we have been investigating a world of our own creation more than the world itself, perhaps as a result of never fully living in or understanding the real world as a lifeworld. Historically, most people continued to live in the reality of the lifeworld in spite of the fact that philosophers, theologians, and scientists told them that they were not living in the real world and that their worldly lives were not fully real thus not that important.

Priests and philosophers, cloistered from the activities of the earth-world, studying scripture or inventing metaphysical systems, told them that reality was hidden and obscured, that it revealed itself only through their contemplative activities, mental inventions that expressed human reality as it truly is. The theologian told them that the true world lay elsewhere and that people’s lives were insignificant because they occurred in a subordinate realm of inferior reality. Native Americans, however, understood that there was nothing other than the act of living. For them the value and reality of every act of living was absolute and self-evident. This attitude is expressed in what Beverly Hungry Wolf says of the life of women among the Blackfeet: 

Let me just say that in the culture of my people the work of the woman was generally respected and honored, for the men knew very well that they could not live without them. The people of the past thought it a great honor that the women should bear and rear the children, ensuring that there would be people in the future. Equally honorable was the woman’s work of creating the lodges that made the homes, putting them up and taking down when camp moved, heating them, and providing the bedding and clothing for the household members. In the social life of my grandmothers, a household was judged not only by the bravery and generosity of the man, but also by the kindness and work habits of the woman. Even the wife of a poor man could find honor among the people by being a good housekeeper.[2] 

Do her words somehow miss the mark? Is there some hidden, essential dimension of reality if overlooked life cannot be fully lived? Is her view of the reality and significance of the lifeworld naive and unsophisticated? Again, I do not think so. Whatever we might add would be at best superfluous, at worst would falsify reality. And perhaps the great tragedy of the postmodern condition is to have lost complete sight and experience of the fundamentals of life. What has the modern world invented that gives life greater meaning than the forms of being of the native peoples? In fact, if we look at the monstrous projects of modernism, we find that what continues to matter most to people are the simplest of things—love, work, pleasure, family, friends, community, the forms of nature, and a clear sense of purpose. The modern world remains in spite of its technological wonders a universe in which people still seek most those primordial elements of being human. If anything, modernism has transformed these elements into grotesque mutations. The tragedy of modern projects is that in the process of creating a world of greater comfort and security, sight of the fundamentals of being human has been lost.

Traditional Western man believed that nothing mattered so much as the presence of himself in the world, that he was the sovereign of the earth and its creatures and the object of universal, cosmic concern. On the other hand, modern man, rejecting all anthropomorphic metaphysics knows he means nothing to the universe, so he kills or captures its creatures so that his power at least makes him sovereign of the earth. If there is no God, then man will become God. To the Indian both attitudes would have seemed perverse. The Indian sought to be noticed by the great forces of the world, but did so not from a sense of self-importance but, to the contrary, from a profound sense of insignificance within the great scheme of things. The Indian knew that the universe—the “Wholly Other”[3] that was also home and mother—was the true object of wonder, not its human offspring. The Indian’s attitude was ultimately one of respect and adoration without the narcissistic egoism of the Jew or Christian. The Lakota prayer to the Great Mystery begins,

 

Great Mystery, you existed from the first.

The sky, this earth you created;

Great mystery—look upon me, pity me,

that the Nation may live.[4]

 

For 2000 years Westerners have suffered from delusion of grandeur and self-infatuation, which have, ironically, stripped the world of meaning for humans. Commencing with the Jewish and Greek worldviews and continued and refined by the Christian worldview, Western culture has embarked upon a process of establishing humanity as the supreme object and purpose of the cosmos. All the world leads to the human doorstep. (The religious traditions have often been critical of secular humanism, but both attitudes are egocentric and self-infatuated.) Yet, we rejected or destroyed the native cultures because their cultures and beliefs were considered nothing more than childish superstition. But it has been we who have been children, continuing to surrender ourselves to a Great Savior or wrap ourselves in ideological security blankets that negate and oppress rather than enhance life, afraid to accept our humble status in the world, misusing our technical prowess like a frustrated child angrily demanding the focus of every attention and the satisfaction of every wish. When we learn to accept the red-tailed hawk as our equal, then we will share in its nobility. But I am afraid that opportunity has already passed; the people who understood most clearly the ways of life and the place of humanity among nature’s other creatures have already existed.

Said Chief Luther Standing Bear f the Lakota, or Sioux, 

[The Lakota] loved the Earth and all things of the Earth, the attachment growing with age. The old people came literally to love the soil. They sat or reclined on the ground with a feeling of being close to a mothering power.

Their tepees were built upon the Earth and their altars were made of Earth. The birds that flew in the air came to rest upon the Earth and it was the final abiding place of all things that lived and grew. The soil was soothing, strengthening, cleansing, and healing. 

That is why the Indian still sits upon the Earth instead of propping himself up and away from its life-giving forces. For him, to sit or lie upon the ground is to be able to think more deeply and to feel more keenly; he can see more clearly into the mysteries of life and come closer in kinship to other lives about him. 

Kinship with all creatures of the Earth, sky and water was a real and active principle. For the animal and bird world there existed a brotherly feeling that kept the Lakota safe among them and so close did some of the Lakotas come to their feathered and furred friends that in true brotherhood they spoke a common tongue.[5] 

The focus of life for Indians was worldly rather than otherworldly. They were a people at home in the real world, the primordial world of nature. They lived in the midst of its forms and knew them intimately. They were not lords of the earth but merely one form of being among millions of others. In their struggle to survive they knew they participated in that single principle of being—to endure and survive meaningfully. They understood also that all forms of life were of one family bound together in this struggle. It was a worldview that required courage and humility—a sense that the self mattered less than the whole and the greatest virtue was humility expressed through self-sacrifice.

The postmodern, with certain important exceptions such as ecofeminism, which in fact seeks a return to the abandoned organic lifeworld,[6] is not an advancement over the follies of the traditional Western and modern worldviews. At least the older Western worldviews required some sense of humility or before some great human project. But now, with the traditional and modern projects dismantled, we are left only with our self-centeredness. And the center is empty because the periphery of the world has disappeared. Without the world we are nothing, and modern technological society sacrificed the world long ago.

In this place, Kearney, Nebraska, one can still see the world that was once there for everyone. It is the earth. It humbled us, fed us, gave us work to do, and sustained a sense of wonder for Being—as it still does for these people. Here we can see clearly the horizon of that primordial world that invented us and will one day reclaim each of us, our ideas, and our civilizations. It is the horizon of Being, and it is neither the creation of God or a god. It is simply our home, our mysterious home, mysterious only because of its presence, just as each one of us is mysterious by the very fact that we are. To seek more than that, to seek further justification of our being, to demand a final explanation or purpose, results not only in becoming lost—and I believe that no people have become more lost than we—but also in losing a sense of wonder and mystery for the very act of living—being here and having the opportunity of seeing (as an act of reverent appreciation) the world and its magnificent forms.

We may have no ultimate purpose beyond our being here, beyond wanting to endure and to see those whom we love endure for the length of their allotted time, but that does not lessen our value, because our being is the stuff of our purpose and our values. Our eyes enable us to see the beauty of the world; our ears allow us to hear its mystery; our hearts enable thus to love our own; our hearts and minds allow us to know, appreciate, and love all the forms being—living and non-living; our families friends, and neighbors enable us to commit ourselves to others and to endure the suffering that comes with sacrificing for others.

We can still be heroes and saints. Even without God, we can aspire to the divine life of Jesus—who loved all things of the world, whose life was heroic, noble and sacred because it was a life of concern and sacrifice. It was a life of power, but not the power of control, manipulation, and destruction, not the power of accumulation and domination; it was the power of love, the power of altruistically transforming oneself into a gift for others. Such a life is needed in a world with or without God.

But this is not the message of the postmodern world. If anything the postmodern world lives in in greater forgetfulness than the traditional or modern. It is a small, claustrophobic world of illuminated mirrors that reflect only one another. The music and dance of life has become a disco of artificiality, a TechNoir,[7] where the rock music and colored strobe-lights become a formless noise that has no connection with the world beyond. Where in the artificial capsule of the technological society is one going to find a place and time to sit upon the earth in order to experience its life-giving forces? Nowhere. Life in the postmodern is completely alienated from the first world, the primordial world.

Whether we rediscover our lifeworld before we destroy most of it remains to be seen. If we do not then we will finish our existence like Sartre’s hell—condemned to live alone with one another, in a world from which the beautiful and mysterious forms of Being were driven into extinction, with what is left being displayed in in cages or reserves so curious humans can view remnants of the world they have lost. We have created a prison and then happily became its prisoners, living not even in cages but cells that would be dark were it not for electric lights and television that glimmer like the illuminated shadows that dance upon the walls of Plato’s cave. In creating the modern world we destroyed or at least eclipsed not only an older world but a universe. Certainly, if the postmodern world seeks to create a new universe, it will have to begin by searching through the ruins of the old, for as of yet it has no materials of its own to build with. 

* * * 

This journal article was published in the Platte Valley Review, January 1994. It was based on my presentation “Seeking the Postmodern Project” that I gave at University of Nebraska at Kearney for a conference put on by the German language department: “Modernity, Postmodernity, and the Problem of Reception: Nietzsche and the Consequences” (April 15-17, 1993).

The author wrote Her Quest, a science fiction novel that describes a young teenage girl who embarks on a long, arduous journey to find the wisdom of the Native Americans. She lives in Usatopia, a technological society that is so artificial that birds are tiny robots that serve as observation drones. That is her world, the one that made her. She knows nothing of the world she seeks. Her quest was inspired by the words of her father, emperor of the Usatopia. Broodingly pacing back and forth and talking to himself unaware of his daughter’s presence, he says that his society lost the wisdom possessed by the ancient peoples who came before technology took control of the world, eventually destroying global civilization because it was misused by dull-minded men not unlike the men wrecking our world. Ironically, robots are more humane than the males driven by masculine aggression. Why? Because they are controlled by the A.I. Her journey is a return to the old ways of an ancient people.


[1] John Bierhorst, ed., The Trail of the Wind: American Indian Poems and Ritual Orations (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux,1987) 115.

[2] Beverly Hungry Wolf, The Ways of My Grandmothers. See “Learning to Camp Like My Grandmothers” (New York: Quill, 1980) 120-129. 

[3] Rudolf Otto, The Idea of the Holy (London University Press, 1969) 25. 

[4] Quoted in Curtis’ Western Indians by Ralph W. Andrews (New York: Bonanza Books, 1962) 93. 

[5] Luther Standing Bear, Touch the Earth: A Self-Portrait of Indian Existence, ed., T.C. McLuhan (New York: Promontory Press, 1971) 6. 

[6] The meaning of organic need not be limited to organisms. For the Native American all of nature was alive—rivers, streams, fire, shooting stars, the waxing and waning of the moon, the sun passing overhead, rain, snow, clouds, wind, storms, and dust devils, the passing and arriving seasons, and so on. The earth has been an evolving organism since its birth, and it will grow old (if we don’t destroy it before it does) and die. What the Native Americans knew that the Western tradition has forgotten with its religions, philosophies, sciences, and ideologies is that each entity of nature has a life of its own.

Who would have ever expected the beaver to be wiser than humans who killed them to near-extinction for hats and perfumes? They build their homes and care for their families. They are aggressive only toward threatening intruders; otherwise, their philosophy is live and let live. Tortoises also possess greater wisdom than humans. They too are not aggressive creatures by nature. They don’t go out looking for trouble as humans do. They are loners. Like the beaver they will protect their home territory. And like other loners they can moody. However, the greatest wisdom of the tortoise is that he/she doesn’t race though life, as we humans do. He/she seems to realize that goal of life isn’t about winning or reaching an invented destination.

The wisdom of these creatures is that the primordial raison d'être of life is simply being/existing in the world, better yet living life with the appreciative awareness possessed by Native Americans but forgotten by moderns and postmoderns who surrendered their minds and lives to invented fantasies, ideologies, and technologies.  Busily they hurry to this destination or that, often leaving a trail of blood, oblivious to the world about them. It’s hardly a sign of wisdom that humans engage in war as ants and chimpanzee do. You would think we would know better. Apparently we’re no smarter than them just better armed. We deified masculine aggression and invented religious and secular ideologies to justify our love of war, hardly indications of wisdom but forms of euphemized stupidity.

[7] The name of the discotheque in the film The Terminator.

Friday, February 14, 2025

A Valentine Love Letter to France’s Health Care Employees

A True Story

Money and Medical Care

First the backstory. My French wife Brigitte and I met as students at the University of New Mexico. She received her first degree from Sorbonne University in Paris. At UNM she continued her studies in French, Spanish, and German and taught as a TA while I was working on my third degree in philosophy. After a three-year stint at the University of Northern Colorado, we ended up teaching high school in San Diego. After a few years of renting we finally got into a condo. The mortgage was just under $2,000 a month with a condo fee of $1,000 a month. (Yeah, that’s crazy, but that's California!) We were living in middle-class poverty, meaning we lived well but from paycheck to paycheck. It’s a way of life in which you must live frugally, avoid making mistakes, and above all don’t get seriously sick.

More important than our income was our medical insurance. No insurance = no medical care without going into debt, most commonly via the infamous credit card if you had one. Still, the health insurance provided by our jobs required a $200-$300 monthly payroll deduction. When we retired we relied on Medicare, which limited our access to medical treatment. Still, we weren’t without medical care. And my doctor kept me on when I lost employment insurance coverage due to retirement. But yearly exams became conversations rather than a physical checkups. To have full access to doctors and specialists expensive supplement plans were necessary. 

Other Workers Weren’t so Lucky

The situation for unemployed workers or part-time workers or those who work for businesses that don’t provide medical insurance can only be considered desperate.

Just Getting by in America’s Finest City

We decided to retire and move to France. Old-age deterioration ended my teaching career. Brigitte would have liked to teach another four or five years, but we couldn’t survive on her income and my Social Security. The problem with condo living are the surprising big fees. For example, the community had to be tented for termites costing homeowners $4,000 each. After one of the big California wildfires the condo’s fire insurance demanded wooden shingle be replaced by composition shingles. That cost each homeowner $10,000.

Being an Academic Rolling Stone

My retirement is only about $2400 a month mainly because I spent my twenties and thirties being a professional student. In the following order acquired an A.A. degree in philosophy, a BA in philosophy (both in Long Beach, California), an M.A. in psychology (Portales, New Mexico), an M.A. in English (Canyon, Texas), an M.A. in philosophy (Albuquerque, New Mexico), and a doctorate in English (Greely, Colorado). It was a great intellectual odyssey but poor preparation for making a living. My first full-time teaching job at a private college (San Diego) paid $18,00 a year with no summer vacation. When I left the college after ten years I was making $28,000 a year. I spent another 13 years at a high school and was making $66,000 a year when I retired. That seems like a lot of money and is in many states, but not for a family in San Diego, California.

Paradise Beckoned

After Brigitte’s parents died we had to decide to sell their house on the side of a mountain in a French alpine village or to move to France. We couldn’t do both. Staying in San Diego would require selling the family house. It wasn’t a hard choice for me. I was sick of San Diego traffic, congestion, and polluted air. I felt we lived like mice in a maze with all the mice driving cars. As long as I could boogie board life was bearable, but once I couldn’t boogie board because of arthritis, I said it’s time for the Great Escape. Brigitte wanted to continue to teach. She loved her job, but she didn’t want to lose the family home in France.

Rehabilitating an Old Farm House

The house was built around 1800 or even before and was used only as a summer house by Brigitte's parents who lived in Paris and later retired in the nearby town La Mure, where access to doctors and stores didn't require driving. We arrived in France with some money from the sale of the bank-owned townhouse (2nd home purchased). Paying off the outstanding mortgage would have taken 30 more years. And the condo complex really wasn’t a community. Even after 12 years we were mostly a gathering of strangers and a few acquaintances. The money from the sale of the condo was quickly spent to buy a car and have the house rewired and the windows replaced. It took only one winter for us to realize that the old windows had to go. I spent the first winter filling leaks around doors and windows. Still, single pane windows allowed heat to escape and welcomed in the cold from outside. There was no insulation, still isn’t. Important to Brigitte and me is that the window master lives in our village and the electrician lives in a neighboring village. The men who did the work were  businessmen but also neighbors.

We relied on electric space heaters, which were turned on only when someone was in the room. Wood-burning wasn’t an option because our chimney was declared a fire hazard by an inspector. Repair was beyond what we could afford so wasn’t an option. In addition, because there is no gas, all appliances use electricity. Electricity is expensive in France. Compared to the U.S., France is energy poor thus has to rely on nuclear, hydroelectric, and solar energy for its electricity. Ironically, it imports liquefied natural gas from Russia and unfortunately continues to deal with the devil. We hope that that the energy we use is fabriqué en France so we're not aiding and abetting Putin's destruction of Ukraine. Back to home Economics, our electric bill is about 430 Euros a month.

Three Amigos to the Rescue: Benard, Jean-Paul, & Dominique

Also the stable’s ceiling was threatening to collapse and required reinforcement with wooden beams. One section of the barn required a concrete floor for the car; the other section received a wooden floor for storage, including my library stored in big plastic containers.  Three really cool local old timers did all that work the work that took about a week. Including materials it cost us about thousand Euros! After buying a lawnmower, cultivator, and snowblower, we were without money for further improvements. I did what I could. I put in a vegetable garden and a stone driveway so the car wouldn’t sink in mud when it rained or snowed as it did repeatedly the first year. But trained in philosophy and literature I was no handyman. Putting in tree swings for the grand kids was about my limit.

France

After couple years Brigitte and I finally settled in. We weren’t rich but made enough to get by. Most of all we loved France. French society runs like a grandfather clock. Order comes from within, from the people themselves rather than from the government. The exception would be automobile, which brings out the worst side of the French personality, but unlike in the U.S. road rage is rare. It’s not so much that French drivers drive aggressively but think they're race-car drivers. Not all French drivers, of course, but once they hit the road many suddenly become in a big hurry—impatient, speeding, tailgating, incautiously passing other cars, etc. Still, aggressive driving is rarely angry. You never see the highway hatred that erupts in the U.S. And, oddly enough, French motorists tend obey the laws of the road even when they're in a big hurry. I’ve had tailgaters just itching to pass me when there is no oncoming traffic but refrained from doing so until they got a broken line. But put them in a long line in a supermarket and suddenly they become patient as Buddha even when the clerk is having a chatty conversation with a shopper. The French are most patient with people engaged in conversation even if the two talkers are blocking traffic.

Pastoral France

One reason I don’t understand speeding through the countryside is that the scenery in France is so beautiful that it encourages me at least to drive at a leisurely pace. I’ve live in France for eleven years and still feel like a tourist who finds the beauties of France enchanting. The countryside is filled with fields, pastures, and woods. And along with the people there are dogs, cats, cows, horses, donkeys, chickens and turkeys, sheep and goats, and that lovable machine the tractor.

Big C in Paradise

So we had every reason to look forward to living a pleasant retirement in paradise. But cancer had a different plan for us. Our family doctor, now retired, was to me a traditional country doctor. His office was next to his home, and though he took appointments he also had a “first come first served policy” for morning visits. We would arrive to find the waiting room filled with about a dozen patients mostly elderly who greeted new arrivals. There were no numbered tickets. Everyone pretty much knew who was next.

Merkel Cell Carcinoma

The other thing about the doctor was he would always have me lie down for a quick physical exam (blood pressure, lungs, stomach, etc.). Next he would ask me a few questions about how I was doing, with Brigitte serving as translator, before getting to the reason for my being there. His co-pay for visits was about 7 Euros. We went to him when Brigitte developed a harmless looking small, pinkish spider-web lesion on her cheek. He didn’t think it was something to worry about but referred her to a dermatologist in Grenoble. Unlike doctors in the U.S. French primary care doctors won’t hesitate to refer a patient to a specialist. In the U.S. insurance companies authorize referrals.

The dermatologist turned out to be a godsend though the old doctor rather than God deserved all the credit for sending Brigitte to her. We weren’t expecting a dire prognosis, but the no-nonsense doctor recognized immediately that the lesion was a serious threat: Merkel cell carcinoma. She arranged for Brigitte to see a private surgeon to remove the lesion and take a biopsy. As it turned out the surgery was extensive involving opening and cleaning the entire cheek. The surgeon was young, in his thirties, affable, and truly skilled at his trade. The scar was hardly noticeable. The co-pay was 250 Euros.

The biopsy confirmed the dermatologist’s diagnosis. This required a more extensive surgery to remove all the cancer. The complex surgery removed the cheek thus requiring a skin graph and reached just below the eye. It was performed at Grenoble Alpes University Hospital (CHUGA) by a doctor who looked like actress Marion Cotillard. It seems as if half the doctors at the hospital are women. The surgery was just a part of what would turn out to be a long series of treatments that would involve many doctors, nurses, technicians, and taxi drivers. But once Brigitte became a cancer patient there were no more co-pays or taxi fares to pay for. And who was paying for all this? The unselfish French people represented by the French government.

Lymphoma and Shingles Join the Attack on Brigitte

Lymphoma

It would take over a month for Brigitte to begin to recover from the treatments needed for the Merkel cell carcinoma. There would be more visits to the hospital and daily home visits by nurses who would clean and rebandage her new cheek made from the skin graft. The wound was purplish and to me horrific looking. I couldn't imagine how it would ever heal, but it did. The operation was totally amazing to me as were the surgeon and her team (The Miracle Workers❤️). After the first visit I left the nurses alone to do their work. I think Brigitte preferred her squeamish husband not to be present. However, during Merkel cell carcinoma treatment it was discovered that Brigitte also suffered from lymphoma. Apparently this cancer had been hiding out in her for a long while. It would require radiation, chemotherapy, and immunotherapy. There would be more trips to the hospital for those treatments provided by devoted caring doctors, technicians, nurses, and taxi drivers. However, the treatments would depress her immune system, which would have bad consequences later on.

A General Practitioner Comes to Brigitte's Rescue Again

She had replaced our first family doctor who had retired, the one who sent Brigitte to the specialist who discovered the Merkel Cell Carcinoma that began Brigitte long battle with cancer. Because of her fatigue Brigitte spent most of her time in bed. I would bring her meals, mostly soup and sandwiches and help her to the restroom. It was a most depressing time. Then came the realization that she had entered a period of rapid deterioration. She was so tired, she didn't seem to notice that she was getting worse rather than better. To me she seemed at death's door. I had my daughter contact our new doctor, who contacted CHUGA. They told her that they were swamped with COVID-19 patients and couldn't take another patient. Our doctor told them that they would take Brigitte or else! I don't know what the "or else" was but it worked. Our son-in-law drove up from Grenoble to take Brigitte to the hospital. There wasn't time enough to arrange for a taxi. Besides, he was Brigitte's favorite driver. At CHUGA she was welcomed by masked techs and nurses and taken to an isolation room. She remained in the hospital until her condition was stabilized. There is no doubt in my mind that our new family doctor saved Brigitte's life. And for that she joined my long list of French medical heroes who have worked to keep my wife alive.

Shingles

It seems that one never fully recovers from cancer because checkups and treatments can continue for years. In Brigitte’s case there were treatments to boost her depressed immune system. Yet, in a vulnerable state she was struck by shingles in a fashion similar to that experienced by the late Senator Dianne Feinstein. Brigitte lost control of one eye, which made it impossible for her to drive or read. The latter was especially painful for her since she has been an avid reader all her life, a book or two at week. When a teenager she read Leo Tolstoy's War & Peace. Shingles (zona in French) put her in the hospital for eight days, where she was attended to by a legion of nurses, doctors, and interns.

Her Mechanical Valet 

Once at home she continued her intravenous therapy, which required that she remain attached day and night to a clunky mobile solution holder. She learned to manage it when to use the restroom and even go downstairs to the kitchen. It became her constant companion. Brigitte’s determination to survive had already become heroic to me, but seeing her attached to the device was heartbreaking. Nurses came daily to check on her and maintain the IV. They too were my heroes. They kept us from feeling abandoned on the side of a mountain. Months passed. Eventually, she regained control over her wandering eye and she could once again read her beloved books and peruse Facebook and reconnect with friends, though driving remain interdict for a while longer. However, for the rest of her life she would remain on valacyclovir for her shingles. And this is where I should point out that for all her medicines related to her cancers and shingles there was no co-pay. They were free, though not totally free because they were paid by the French people. We do pay a private insurance that completes the French national insurance!

Disaster at the Vet’s

After years of Brigitte’s doing battle with life-threatening illnesses, we thought that once again our life would finally get back to normal. But a visit to a veterinary said no way. We were taking our nervous wreck of a border collie for his yearly checkup. At the vet he had a nervous breakdown. He’s not aggressive, but at a veterinary he goes crazy and snaps at anyone who touches him. When Brigitte tried to control him, he snapped at her. There was only a pinprick of blood on her wrist so we thought it would be okay. Four hours later Brigitte’s arm had swelled to twice its size and was becoming increasingly painful. It was dark by then and outside a rain storm raged. After two cataract operations my night vision is still lousy and lights from other cars are blinding, so I never drive at night. And at eighty years of age I really don’t have much confidence in my reflexes when driving at night. I’m a good driver under normal daytime conditions, but conditions weren’t normal that night. Brigitte said she had to get to the local hospital’s urgent care about 25 kilometers from us. The small-town urgent care isn't like the emergency care facilities of big cities. There was only a nurse and a doctor on board.

Anyway, we hit the road. To make driving worse, much of the highway had just been resurfaced and was without a center white line to guide me in the pouring rain and darkness. I felt trapped in the noir film The Wages of Fear expecting to drive off the road into the forest or drift into oncoming traffic. Finally arriving at the hospital we walked to urgent care and rang to be allowed in. We were welcomed by the nurse. She was calm and friendly and took us to an empty waiting room. The hospital was like a ghost town. Brigitte too was composed and collected; however, my mood was bleak after the noir drive to the hospital. For both of us it had been a long day and eerie night. Seeing Brigitte’s arm suddenly double in size I could only think the worst. I mean cancer and bacterial infections are the two most fear medical threats in the minds of most people, including mine.

After a forty-five minute wait during which the doctor had been treating another patient, the nurse took Brigitte to the doctor. I stayed behind and never met him, but Brigitte said he was great. He stuck a probe into her arm to remove what infection he could. He apologized that he didn't use an analgesic for fear that it might contribute to the spread the infection. Thus, the procedure would be painful, but Brigitte was a veteran of painful procedures. Afterwards, he gave her a prescription for antibiotics. He said if there is no improvement after 48 hours Brigitte had to go to CHUGA. We didn't have to wait 24 hours.

By that time it was early morning and Brigitte called our daughter. She wanted our Good Samaritan son-in-law to take her to the pharmacy. She had more confidence in his driving ability than she did in mine. For him it would be a forty kilometer drive from Grenoble. I said that his coming was unnecessary, but both Brigitte and our daughter said I was in no condition to be driving around in town where I might have an octogenarian lapse and run over a pedestrian. I was grateful to be relieved of duty. The rain had stop and the sun was rising. Brigitte having been treated and soon to be on antibiotics, I felt better knowing that her condition was finally being treated. So during the drive home I marveled at the beautiful scenery—fields, pastures, and forests, with mountains powered with snow. I gave a thought to the artist Winslow Homer whom I had been studying. “The Sun will not rise without my thanks” he said. That’s how I felt as I headed for home.

But that nemesis Mr. Bacteria had other plans for Brigitte. (How strange that there are 7 types of bacteria in this best of all possible worlds!) The day passed and the swelling and pain continued. In the predawn morning Brigitte said she needed to go to the big hospital in Grenoble, also known as le CHU Grenoble Alpes. A taxi would be required. He or she, I forget now, came. They always do wind, rain, snow or sunshine. In good weather or bad, they come. And like the nurses who come to the house, taxi drivers are kindly men and women. They have served as Brigitte's lifeline to CHUGA. We had to pay the fare—100 Euros—since the taxi hadn’t been prescribed by a physician. It was a fair price considering the distance is about 50 kilometers, a third of the return trip was up a mountain, and the price of gas in France is $5.54 per gallon. Brigitte would be four days in the hospital, during that time there would be surgeries, antibiotics, loving care, and three wonderful meals a day. (You smile but in France hospital food can be quite tasty.) With her arm in a plastic cast she went to the hospital yesterday and will visit the hospital again today. Apparently there will be a long schedule of treatments until the arm is given the okay by the doctors.

 Is this loving care?

Because of CHUGA Brigitte has survived life-threatening cancerous, viral, and bacterial attacks. That is a remarkable shared story that has involved both courage and love. Some people believe that expressions of love require the emotion. They can, but I don’t believe emotion is necessary. Expressing tenderness, compassion, and sensitivity need not require amore. And there are different types of love. Agape, from Ancient Greek, is considered by some to be the highest form of love, charity, a disposition to show kindness or compassion without amore. The philosopher Emmanuel Kant might say it’s love rooted in a love of duty—doing the right thing, doing good. Agape is often defined as God's love for human beings. That’s a stretch given God’s behavior in the Old Testament. He destroys cities and has his own people mass murdered by his priests, and created a fiery Hell for Buddhists, Taoists, agnostic, secularists, and the unbaptized.

According to America's soon to be vice president J. D. Vance’s hero Augustine of Hippo, unbaptized babies go to hell for eternal punishment. Who would want such a guy to be the spokesman for one’s religion? And where was the loving Yahweh during the Holocaust? Six million Jews died and will be sent to Hell according to that other nightmarish spokesman for the religion Apostle Paul. Personally I can’t see Jesus being okay with such an idea given his one and only goal in life was to save his people the Jews—as Jews, not Christians. The historical Jesus would not have abandoned that young idealist Anne Frank. He would have saved her if he could. Agape isn’t divine. It’s purely human as illustrated by Jesus' hero the Good Samaritan. I believe Agape is what Brigitte has received and continues to receive at CHUGA, along with other forms of loving care.

Another form of love is philia or friendship or good will. I believe that unlike agape there is some emotion involved (and there’s nothing wrong with having that loving feeling present), though I would call it fellow-feeling or perhaps brotherly or sisterly love. Some characteristic or commonality can trigger philia. Brigitte might remind many medical personal of their mother or grandmother (she’s both).What is unique here is that it is love not based on a developed friendship. For example, at the grocery store you have 30 items in your basket and the person behind you has three. You let him or her go before you not because you feel sorry for him or her but just because the person is a fellow-human, and the result is a courtesy. If the person is elderly or handicap then sympathy may play a part. Sympathy alone is not an expression of love, though perhaps sympathy that inspires helpful action is. This does not quite fall in the category of being a Good Samaritan. The need isn’t great enough. It’s just doing a good deed for a fellow human being, a moment of spontaneous helpful friendship. Brigitte has often referred to the friendly treatment she received at CHUGA, such as being welcomed with a smile and kind word.

The Highest Form of Self-Realization

Human beings seek to realize themselves in endless ways, but the most praiseworthy and noble form of self-realization as a human being is living a life inspired and guided by moral principles. That is why the highest praise is given to men like Buddha and Jesus and women such as the courageous Joan of Arc, Jesus’s loving mother Mary, and the devoted Ruth the Moabite. There are two categories for moral self-realization. The first comes from the wisdom of Buddha: avoid thinking and actions that cause suffering. The other is illustrated by Jesus or Hippocrates: act to alleviate suffering—moral altruism. Both are praiseworthy as being the highest achievements in life. But the latter is superior to the former. We expect people not to cause suffering and in some cases punish them if they do. In addition, to achieve the Buddhist ideal one needs only to refrain from harming others. It's passive form of morality.  Altruism, on the other hand, always requires action, acting to end or lessen the suffering of another human being (or any other creature for that matter). Médecins Sans Frontières come to mind. There is no greater achievement than to dedicate one's life to end the suffering of others. That is the highest good for self-realization.

The Good Samaritan and Moral Self-Realization

The parable of the Good Samaritan is the most famous illustration of altruism. He goes out of his way to help a man who was attacked by evil men. (There are many such men in the world today.) In service to God’s law a priest and a Levite avoid helping the injured man. Here is what the Good Samaritan does: 

He went to [the injured man] and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii [two days’ wages at the time] and gave them to the innkeeper. “Look after him,” he said, “and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.” (Luke 10:34-35).  

This is not passive morality—which is also good. It’s active morality, which is even better. Who are the Good Samaritans in Brigitte’s story? First, France’s universal health care system paid for by the French people. It is a government program in so far as it is provided by the government, though private of health care also exist in France. CHUGA is a social institution paid for and operated by French citizens that is open to the sick and injured, to the rich and poor, and to those with or without medical insurance. This is why as an institution CHUGA achieves the highest moral status.

Love: Humanity’s Greatest Achievement

The other Good Samaritans are the doctors, nurses, techs, clerks, and maintenance people who work to serve patients. I think there must be a little bit of Buddha, Hippocrates, Jesus, and the Good Samaritan in people who are drawn to professions that seek to prevent or alleviate human suffering. What have been the great achievements in the human evolution? There have been many such as intellectual reasoning and artistic appreciation and creativity. These are high-level achievements, yet ironically they may not be as profound as the rather basic ability to love, not just other people as recommended by Jesus, but everything as seen the paintings of those great lovers life Winslow Homer, Monet, Cézanne, and Renoir. And what produced those paintings? Love. What inspires the devotion to care for the sick, aged, and injured at CHUGA? Love. So perhaps love does give birth to altruistic morality.

Spiritual Institutions

Spiritual institutions are not where gods are worship but where loving deeds are performed. Is CHUGA a spiritual institution? In the moral sense yes, and there is no other sense. Jesus shows that the spiritual life = the moral life. To understand this one must focus on his actions, not his words, which are not trustworthy because they are not his words but the words of writers of the Gospels. Spirituality is associated with that which is other than the material or physical. Christians believe spirituality is related to the soul, but there is no reason to believe that such a substance exists in people. And if it does, what good is it? If the soul is the source of moral goodness and motivator of moral actions, then why are there so many evil men in the world? It doesn’t make sense. Or does the idea of the soul serve the selfish desire to live forever?

Morality isn't material or physical, yet it can motivate actions. And moral people choose to be moral just as evil people choose to be immoral, often choosing to be evil. Thus according to the role models of Hippocrates, Buddha, and Jesus, the spiritual life is the moral life. And in all three cases, what is the superlative moral life? It is a life that refrains from causing suffering (Buddha) and alleviating suffering (Hippocrates and Jesus). By behaving morally, one’s life is spiritualized. And there is no greater achievement for human beings. And it is an achievement available to anyone, no special talent or ability is required, though certain skills enable a person to more effectively alleviate suffering.

CHUGA Is What Utopia Looks Like

If CHUGA was a nation it would be a utopia. It is an institution of pure moral goodness. Such would be a society of Good Samaritans devoted to helping people in need. There are endless ways to do this: https://dosomething.org/article/community-service-project-ideas

But the French people do this each and every day by providing hard-earned tax Euros for government programs such as universal health and public transportation. France is not a utopian society, but that is its goal, and the fundamental element of a utopian society is caring for others. Avoiding causing suffering and avoiding ignoring suffering.

The Purpose of this Article

Is to thank the French people, our primary care physicians, but especially employees at CHUGA for their loving care that has kept my wife alive. And my gratitude is shared by the rest of the family and by Brigitte's many friends and former students.

If you've gotten this far, you know this article is also a tribute to my beloved, courageous wife Brigitte. Here she is with my mother and my late brother John's son Andrew. She was my wife and girlfriend. Still is.
Precious then, more so now.