
During a recent flight, I occupied myself by watching part of a movie. It seemed there was an anachronism that I caught in this particular indie film. Essentially, there was a technology on display that wasn’t really accessible during that era. I have noticed this before as of late: watching fictional media depicting the ‘80s or some other past decade and showing a level of connectivity and tech use that just wasn’t accurate for the times.
In the America of the ‘80s I grew up in here in California, no one hopped on their big beige desktop to read news on a DOS screen. They grabbed a newspaper or turned on the TV to find out what was happening. And very few people actually had those giant cell phones with them. The rare folks I knew who had one mostly kept it in their car for emergencies. What I’ve come to realize is that anyone born within the existing level of technological connectivity and advancement may have a hard time grasping that there was any other way. And by extension, this is likely also true regarding the intangibles of psyche, such as the consensus perspective of any particular time and place. Hence, when I encounter a well-meaning but narrow-minded indictment of some heroic historical figure because they engaged in a normative behavior that is now justifiably considered barbaric, I am reminded of the truth of relativity. I am certain that a number of normative choices of our current era will come to be seen in a similar light. Casting stones to the past is truly counterproductive, as it negates the universality of human experience including typical reactions under the color of authority. You just need to look at psychological studies like the Milgram electrocution experiment or Zimbardo’s Stanford Prison Experiment to know there was nothing special about the majority of German citizens during World War II. Understandably so, getting out of polarized thinking about these heinous matters can be an emotionally overwhelming challenge.
It reminds me of what I studied in undergrad while abroad, the histoire des mentalités aka the history of mentalities. Over in the UK, they made the distinction between the study of history (events) vs. intellectual history (the shifts in societal philosophy and psychology over time); and I definitely preferred the latter. In any case, noticing that an anachronism has slipped detection is such a great metaphor for the unknown unknowns, as in that famous Rumsfeld (!) quote. Because it meant that everyone involved in the production of that film I happened to be watching was too young to know any better. How is someone to know what they don’t know, the things that lie outside reality as they have always known it? I mean, if it’s been the only air you have ever breathed, your perceptions may be limited within the bounds of that known reality.
Take for instance, the fact that during ancient history, the colors blue and green were categorically lumped together under one name. Today, we may think it’s absurd to conceive of the sky and grass as the same color. But this was generally true across the world until this conceptual innovation. Some scientists wondered if this linguistic limitation impacted actual perception. So they did an experiment with the Himbas, an isolated Namibian tribe that has many words for shades of green (as one would in a natural environment) but doesn’t have a word exclusively for blue, instead grouping it with the greens. They showed the Himba participants a screen with squares of the two colors. They found that tribe members took longer to differentiate between the two. Structural language limitations translating into real world perceptual limitations.

The universality of this paradigm shift across the world is fascinating to me. Across the world in the Amazon, it has been documented that the Tsimane’ tribe also did not differentiate the color blue in their own language until they learned Spanish as a second language; exposure to the concept made the perception real. This all aligns with the story of indigenous folks seeing the conquistador ships on the horizon, but only some of them being able to “see” them. Considered apocryphal by many, I sense the truth behind this telling. Like in West World when the robots were triggered into mental blankness upon seeing evidence of their non-humannness. “I don’t see anything,” as an indication of cognitive dissonance.
Indeed, in daily life we tend to edit out information that doesn’t fit into our existing paradigm. Depending on one’s metacognitive skill level, this is mostly done on an unconscious basis. For instance, when I first moved to San Francisco all the overhead bus and streetcar cables used to bother me as an eyesore. Yet pretty quickly, they erased themselves from my visuals. Same with first time I wore colored contacts. They were grey in color and I remember it was like looking through the mesh of a screen door. I thought, How the hell am I supposed to see through this? Yet popping them in a second time, I saw nothing. The brain is almost too good at this automatic editing. Mindfulness practices help us to counter the potential brain rot from all that data getting pushed out to the peripheries of the awareness. One operational definition of mindfulness I have heard: that it’s seeing new things in the same environment. That is the rub with some of the AI integration lately: how it wants to finish all your words and sentences, do all the work for you. Sometimes this is wonderfully convenient. But sometimes, it is outsourcing processes that we need to keep internal. Because otherwise we stop paying attention and stop critically thinking. Then we are even more easily controlled by outside forces. [Not to polarize against AI as a whole. I have had a fascinating exchange with ChatGPT regarding esoteric channeled texts. Definitely worth its own post!]
All of the above is yet another reason why the wisdom of elders can be so vital, particularly in a society with exponentially accelerating change. At times, it feels like the ground is literally dissolving and reforming right underneath our feet. Those of us who remember what it was really like before (I would peg the “B.C.” as coming to a definite end in 2007, when the iPhone came out)—I would venture to say that we hold a more natural capacity to question the manner in which any particular technology has been constructed or applied, as well as how it is subsequently shaping behavior and mindset. In this way, the older generations are a resource. Though in our irreverent youth-focused society this tends to be downplayed. Mind you, I’m not even referring to geriatric level eldership—I’m a Gen Xer here!
As I have watched this relentless onward march, I have seen how there is something about this increasingly technological world we are living in that seems to induce a hypnotic obedience to authoritative systems and structures. When the tech buses first appeared in San Francisco to ferry employees down to Silicon Valley, locals would comment on how strange it was to see the workers walk in lockstep, phones in hand, an almost too on-the-nose “cog in the machine” image. Of course, that no longer looks so strange, as we all have come into a quasi borg-like symbiosis with our devices. Again, not polarizing here. I have come to accept the merits of this co-evolution—so long as we are as intentional and cautious in our development.
For someone growing up now who does not live near natural ecosystems, it is likely too easy to analogize oneself to digital creations. Self as digital object. Hence, an impatience for any lag in time, a demand for a perpetual feedback loop of media churn, a loss of dexterity on the physical plane. On that first note, there is a reason why the rabbit and hare fable is virtually universal across cultures—organic systems need time, like how stew tastes better the next day, or seeds don’t just sprout up right away. The digital analogy piles onto a preexisting notion of self within the lens of industrialized consumption: we are products with price tags, expiration dates, and alluring packaging. This runs counter to the pre-modern concept of worth as an innate and self-evident reflection of existence; I exist, therefore I am worthy. Instead, in the modern definition of self worth it is perceived as something that can be given or taken away externally. Therefore, the endless hustle to be productive—under the threat of being “worthless.” I needn’t go down the rabbit hole of where all that global “productivity” has gotten us on this planet.
[Note: I am still integrating my experiences at the Channel Panel conference I attended in Sedona. More to follow shortly.]