The point of no return

    I am not a fatalist. I’m an idealist. But truthfully, both are tasked with taking an honest assessment of the human condition and presuming the realistic outcome, even if that perceived outcome is influenced by the nuance of their perspectives.

I am deeply concerned about the current trajectory of human progress, and I believe we are rapidly nearing a point of no return. 

    I recently watched Wall•E: the 2008 animated Pixar film set in what I wouldn’t even call a dystopian age. Dystopia at least implies some semblance of human society. What Wall•E portrays is a brutalist remnant of Humanity’s neglect of its environment, and ultimately, its neglect of itself. The film opens with a jaunty, lighthearted song set to the backdrop of mountains of trash nestled amongst dilapidated skyscrapers. Technology far beyond what we are presently capable of engineering, and yet… not a human to be seen. Fast forward in the film, and we learn that humanity has taken to space in an attempt to escape the consequences of their flagrant irresponsibility. And for a while, they do. But demons have a tendency to catch up to those who refuse to face them. The same problems that plagued the earthbound humanity began manifesting (albeit in different ways) on board the Axiom starship. Understanding these problems requires a critical analysis of the film and the themes it attempts to portray, key of which are the following:

• Humanity’s neglect of nature
• Over-reliance on technology
• The Breakdown of Human Autonomy
• Unrestrained Corporate Control
• Unrestrained Consumerism
• Consolidation of Power

While they stem from an animated Children’s film about two robots learning to love, the themes presented demand engagement. In this essay, I’d like to explore these themes in the context of our modern society, and consider the potential ramifications they have on our contemporary and future reality.

These issues are unimaginably complex and interwoven, with no single topic neatly standing alone. Tackling it requires a deep understanding of human sociology, and its intersection with technology. Add to that equation the current rise of Artificially Intelligent systems, and you have a recipe for a truly daunting puzzle. No longer is this conversation about data analysis and social studies, but philosophy: about the very core of what it means to be human in a digital world.

    In an attempt to identify where we currently stand, I think it prudent to answer the question I asked myself repeatedly when watching this film:

“How did they get there.” More specifically… “What was their point of no return?”

    To answer this, we need to go back far. To the dawn of human civilization.

    For early humans, the world was a hostile place. Death was common as each individual human struggled to establish themselves amidst all the other humans and animals around them. Then one day, it clicked. Consolidating resources meant less wasted effort on duplicate commodities. It meant less risk. Energy is a resource. Power is a resource. And by vesting these into one leader, humans gained stability. And thus, Kingdoms were born. But kingdoms have a dark side. As the population of a Kingdom expands, the boundaries and resources need to follow suit, or it risks collapse. Even when multiple kingdoms come in contact with one another, the necessity for larger borders and more food doesn’t disappear. And this is a critical truth for human kingdoms: They need to be fed to keep their power. 

    As we developed as a species, the earth was conquered and land was divided, to a point where there is virtually no land left unclaimed by a global power. Mutually Assured Destruction efficiently deters nations from challenging each others sovereignty, so Kingdoms were forced to take on a different shape. They took on a corporate shape. Instead of providing for their subjects needs, they provide for their subjects desires. Destroying other Kingdoms isn’t an option, so instead, when their sovereignty is challenged, they resort to entrenching their consumers deeper into addiction, into consumerism, into enslavement; with no regard for health or consequence. For them, ultimately, the end goal is money. And money, in our age, translates to power. 

    We have, as a species, consolidated power into the hands of a very select few. And we continue to do so every day. I personally have never cut down a tree, but deforestation continues at an alarming rate. I personally have never burned a hole in the atmosphere, but my consumer choices silently allow it. I personally have never poisoned anyone, but I allow it to be done to me every time I ingest processed food.

I don’t commit the crime, but I bear the consequences of the actions. We all do. And this is the modern tragedy we face. This is great dilemma of our time. 

The average humans in Wall•E, I’m sure, didn’t arrive where they are overnight. I believe there must’ve been a gradual slippage. Slow, at first, then quicker, until suddenly they found themselves powerless to change the established order.

    I’ve said many times before that I don’t believe technology will destroy humanity in a flash; I believe it’ll torture us. It’ll slowly, sadistically strip away the essence of what makes us human: our ability to connect with one another, our creativity, our capacity for skill, our empathy, our vision, and so many other aspects that we’re actively losing. The most terrifying realization, though, is that technology isn’t doing this to us. We’re doing it to ourselves. Pleasure and comfort are powerful sedatives that very quickly drive complacency. It was for the humans of Wall•E in the form of robots. In the form of AI. In the form of short form content. In the form of corporate blessings. And it’s the same for us. And while these addictions steal our attention, we are being robbed of our autonomy. Critical thinking a rare skill in our age.

The answer to the initial proposed question is one of nuance. I think that the point of no return is when technology causes such convenience that our passivity compels us to abdicate from the weight of our personal responsibility. However, the very nature of time dictates that every passing moment is a point of no return. We have no choice but to continue forward. What we can choose is what we offer, and what we trade, but we must be wary. Once we release something… especially something tied to the nature of our humanity, we may never get it back in its original form. The end of the film is particularly interesting to me. As the credits roll, the main characters are depicted in various art forms performing certain tasks- humans and robots alike. But a closer look reveals that neither the forms nor the depictions are random. It begins with cave paintings of a docked Axiom, showing humans planting the tree and creating fire. It moves on to hieroglyphs, with the humans drilling for water and planting crops. Still, it continues to roman mosaics, through impressionist pieces, pointillism representations, all the way to modern animation. This end credit scene represents the return of humans to their humanity. A return to the evolution of our creativity. But the most notable element found here is that the technology that drove humans into space, that caused them to lose their agency, is the same technology helping them rebuild. Technology is our tool. Not our master. It is imperative that we regularly asses the tools we use, and determine if it is serving us, or if we’re using it to serve ourselves.

As promised, I am not a fatalist. Humans are capable of anything, both beneficial and destructive. I believe that, while we have opened pandora’s box and unleashed unimaginable damage upon our own society, we have time for a course correction. We have the opportunity to heal. But it requires work. It requires honesty. It requires conviction.