November 6th, 2012: the day we vote on economy… the year of apocalyptic partisanship… the year of promises of new economy…

I usually don’t mess with economics.  The last time I spoke on the topic was when I re-phrased the all-too-familiar “It’s economy, stupid!” meme into “It’s psychology, stupid!” in my 2009 Huffington Post blog.

My question is this:

What kind of economy are we trying to build?

The kind of economy where everyone who wants to work can work?

Or the kind of economy that works by itself without the need to work?

Or the kind of economy where work doesn’t feel like work?

These are all very different questions and the answers to these questions range from industrial age pragmatism to utopian fantasies.

But I am looking for something in the middle, for an economy of the Middle Way for the middle class…

Is there such a beast?

Turns out there is and it’s called Buddhist Economics as described (in the 1970s) by E. F. Schumacher in “Small is Beautiful” (a must read!).

A couple of excerpts and a few points.

Schumacher explains:

“There is universal agreement that a fundamental source of wealth is human labor.  Now, the modern economists have been brought up to consider “labor” or work as little more than a necessary evil.  From the point of view of the employer, [labor] is in any case simply an item of cost, to be reduced to a minimum… say, by automation.  From the point of view of the workman, [labor/work] is a “disutility;” to work is to make a sacrifice of one’s leisure and comfort, and wages are a kind of compensation for the sacrifice.  Hence the ideal from the point of the employer is to have output without employees, and the ideal from the point of view of the employee is to have income without employment.”

Exactly: that’s what I, as an immigrant to this country, have witnessed over the past 20 years  – employers try to get rid of employees and the working public keeps dreaming the American dream of early retirement.

I am a big fan of the television show …

The West is in a constant war with reality: perpetually dissatisfied with what is, we are desperately trying to perfect it. This one and only reality seems never enough and we feel ever entitled to more: bigger houses, bigger (hybrid) cars, bigger (Anime-sized) eyes, bigger market shares, bigger tax deductions, bigger incomes, bigger bonuses, bigger breasts, bigger penises, bigger egos, and bigger wars. We have been culturally programmed to endlessly optimize and supersize, and to constantly perfect ourselves and everyone else around us.

Our appetite for more has been kindled to the level of insatiability. No wonder we feel psychologically starved and existentially empty.

We have been taught to chase the unattainable: to be more than what we are at any given point in time. We are a culture of idealistically naive strivers unable to be content with what is if only for a moment. This absurdly unrealistic goal (to be more than what we are at any given point in time) comes with the high cost of psychological dependence. Feeling chronically imperfect, we sell out for reassurance, validation and approval. Feeling chronically incomplete, we compete in consumption and stuff ourselves beyond measure.

This chronic deficit of self-acceptance becomes a matter of national deficit and undermines the socio-political independence of our society. Long-term sovereignty of a nation rests with psychological independence of its constituents. A nation of psychologically insecure denizens is at war with itself, and is, thus, divided.

There is a bumble bee in my basement, “attacking” the fluorescent lighting tubes.  He (she?) doesn’t understand that this light is not day-light.  He (she?) doesn’t understand that he (she?) is in my basement and not outside.  The bumble bee bangs and bangs against the light, needing something from it, perhaps, the navigation guidance of the sunlight, I don’t know.

What I do know is that the bee cannot and will not understand the nature of this mystery.  He (she?) is mesmerized, befuddled, exasperated.  I’ve seen flies do the same, when trapped inside, they bang against the transparent – and, therefore, theoretically, open “space” of the window pane.  “Why can’t I fly through?” must think the fly. “Why isn’t this dumb light working as the sunlight should?” must wonder the bee.

I open the basement door, it’s dark outside, I turn on the outside light and wait – in hope – for the bee to fly out, thinking that I fooled it.  It keeps bomb-diving at the fluorescent tubes in the basement, seemingly unaware of the escape option.  I turn off the basement light, just leaving the outside light on.  The contrast works: the bee instantly flies out, following its instinct for the light.

Problem solved, but not the mystery.

A thought-provoking passage from a story Yam Gruel by the early 20th century Japanese writer Akutagawa:

“Yam gruel is a gruel made by boiling slices of yam in a soup of sweet arrow-root.  […]  It was regarded as the supreme delicacy. […]  Accordingly, such lower officials as Goi could taste it only once a year when they were invited as […] guests to the Regent’s Palace. […] On such occasion they could eat no more of it than barely enough to moisten their lips.  So it had been [Goi’s] long-cherished desire to satiate himself with yam gruel.  Of course, he himself did not confide his desire to anyone.  He himself might not have been clearly aware that it had been his life-long wish.  But as a matter of fact, it would hardly be too much to say that he lived for this purpose.  A man sometimes devotes his life to a desire which he is not sure will ever be fulfilled.  Those who laugh at this folly are, after all, no more than mere spectators of life.”

I have but one question for you today, but I’ll state it thrice:

Are you aware of what drives you and why?

What yam gruel are you still chasing?

Have you had a taste of life yet?

++++++++

Note to Mere Spectators of Life: if you happen to have the wisdom of merely noticing “what is,” without chasing it, I salute your equanimity!

Reference:  Rashomon & Other Stories, by Ryunosuke Akutagawa

You say to-may-toes, I say to-mah-toes, who's right?

Minds are fundamentally subjective: we all have opinions of what is but no objective knowledge of what is.  After all, to define reality objectively, we would have to be outside of it.  But we aren’t.  To define reality objectively, we would also have to be outside of our subjective minds.  But we aren’t.

Subjectivity isn’t objectivity, and an opinion isn’t a fact.

To understand the arbitrary nature of any evaluation, we have to understand the concept of value. 

Sometimes I come across a piece of psychological thinking that is so clarifying, illuminating, enriching, and laconic  that I feel instantly compelled to share it.  This happens often, in fact.

For example, it happened tonight when I read a January 22nd blog-post by Lama Surya Das, entitled Deep Questioning.  I encourage you to read his piece on being questioned and questioning yourself: it amounts to no less than a senior year of graduate-level counseling training (in value, not in duration).

His blog post took me back to a moment when – about a year ago, during an encounter with Lama Surya Das in Pittsburgh – I pointed a finger at him and “fired” an irreverent koan: “Who is this?”

Most weeks I pick up two or three random books (from a local store that sells used books).  Some of them I read cover to cover, others – I skim.  I find this routine of mine to be an essential part of my mind’s hygiene.  Random informational inputs challenge and change my mindware (my assumptions, my fund of knowledge, my association networks).

Here are two thought-notes (that I came across in my readings this past week) that struck a cord with me…

The reality runs on cause-and-effect.  We are part of this reality.  We run on motive-and-behavior.  We run on reason-and-behavior.  After all, we reasonable, rational, sentient, sapient beings.  If we don’t have a reason (i.e. a motive) behind what we do, then whatever we are doing is mindless, meaningless, and reflexive.

Selflessness – as unmotivated behavior – is a psychologically-toxic myth.  A robot is selfless because it doesn’t have a self.  A human has a self, and this self makes choices, i.e. expresses preferences, i.e. moves towards wellbeing.  That’s how we operate.  That’s natural.  There’s nothing wrong with having a reason (i.e. motive) behind what you do.  We tend to struggle to acknowledge our motives in fear that you’ll be accused of selfishness.  But selfishness doesn’t have to be a bad word.  Selfishness* is simply a pursuit of well-being, an act of self-care.  It is our psycho-physiological imperative. 

Know all and you will pardon all.

Thomas A’Kempis

Guilt and/or shame leads to rumination and dwelling on the causes of what happened.  At a glance, this seems to be a potentially useful information-processing habit.  The problem, however, is that this post-mistake analysis is biased and the conclusion is typically foregone.

You have already decided that a) if you “made” the mistake, then, of course, it was your fault, and b) that the reason why you “made” the mistake is because you are flawed.  Let’s work on reversing this process in order to rediscover your motivational innocence and to learn to give yourself the benefit of the doubt.

Any mind is a hostage to its habits.  Perfectionistic mind – even more so.  Perfectionist’s mind is a high security prison guarded by guilt-tripping shoulds. Thomas Hurka, in a philosophical analysis of the idea of perfectionism, observes: “The perfectionist ideal is a moral ideal <…>: it is an ideal people ought to pursue regardless of whether they now want it or would want it in hypothetical circumstances, and apart from any pleasures it may bring.” (1993, p. 17).

Restated the doctrine of perfectionism means that we should strive for the sake of striving, not because it feels good, but just because.  Preaching perfectionism for the sake of perfectionism is akin to idealistic hazing designed to override the fundamentals of human motivation and to override free will.

If I tell you to dig a perfect hole in the ground, for no reason other than that you can, and you comply without any questions, you are a soldier of the absurd, a zombie.  Striving for perfection for no particular reason or gain, just because, is masochistic insanity that can be only tolerated through reflexive compliance.