There’s no solidarity in society, much as we might like to pretend there is. We simply can’t afford to be honest with ourselves on this point – just as we can’t afford to be honest about a lot of things. To admit to ourselves that far from ‘advancing’ or ‘progressing’ over the centuries and millennia of its existence the human race has achieved a civilisation in which no one – at the end of the day – really cares about anyone else would be just too painful, too ignominious. It would feel too bad. To own up to the truth of the matter – which is that we have cleverly engineered a situation for ourselves in which no one gives a damn about anything apart from their own immediate comfort – is something that we’re just never going to do. In the past we had heroes (or at least the legend of them!) whereas now in the twenty-first century it’s successful narcissists that we look up to instead. We think they have it made, we think they’ve achieved greatness, and so naturally we want that for us too…
We all know – on some level or other – that to feel solidarity with other people (across the board that is, not just with regard to the specific narrow group that we see ourselves as being a member of) is what makes us human, and that the lack of this feeling of solidarity says nothing good about us at all. Even in a culture that idolises power and supremacy over other people there’s a part of us – however dormant – that realises that this isn’t a great situation. We all know deep down that a lack of empathy means a lack of humanity, a lack of there actually being ‘a person’ there. There’s the appearance of a person without the substance. Even if I am non-empathic (in the way that a psychopath is non-empathic) I know one way or another that something is missing. What’s missing is not a small thing either – ‘If you have no sympathy for human pain, the name of human you cannot retain.’ says Saadi.
If I lose the connection with the people around me (which is the sense of connectedness that I have with the wider world around me) then I haven’t just lost ‘the best part of myself’ or ‘an important part of myself’ – I’ve lost everything. I’ve lost the lot. I’ve lost my actual soul, we might say; I have become one of the ‘soulless ones’ – a mere reactive self-interested, self-cherishing, self-contained, societally manufactured ‘unit’. What we’re looking at here – needless to say – is the condition commonly known as narcissism – not to put too fine a point on it, we’re ‘in it for ourselves’ and we don’t give a damn about anyone else. There is of course so much of talk of narcissism these days that the term has become practically meaningless – the way we use it is to denigrate anyone who we perceive as going against us, anyone who doesn’t want to support us, anyone who won’t agree with us, say nice things to us, and so on. This is a similar sort of thing to calling someone ‘selfish’ when they don’t behave in the way we want them to (when they don’t go along with our plans, when they have an agenda that conflicts with ours). When folk don’t go along with us we straightaway get annoyed with them, we angrily denounce them for being ‘selfish’, we experience an instant surge of red-hot righteous indignation that causes us to respond in a toxic fashion… The joke here of course is that we’re blaming the other person for doing what we ourselves are doing. We’re hypocrites, in other words. We are a bunch of selfish people going around indignantly accusing each other of the very fault that we ourselves are consistently manifesting. We are collectively selfish and yet each and every one of us goes around fully convinced that it is everyone else and not us who is the problem. We’re lecturing others when we should be lecturing ourselves…
Social media is – as anyone can see – full of intensely narcissistic people viciously accusing each other of being narcissists, whilst remaining oblivious to the fact that what they’re complaining about is themselves. It’s because we’re so busy demonising others for our own faults that we can’t see them within ourselves (and so there is ‘method behind our madness’). The truth is that this is the way we have been engineered to be, the way that society wants and requires us to be. To end up as a society made up entirely of generic self-deluding narcissists has become our collective fate and – being narcissists – we’re certainly not going to do anything about it. We’re not going to acknowledge the problem. This is the road that we have collectively agreed to go down (or have collectively been tricked to go down) and rather than taking this terrible fact on board, we opt to’ blame the other guy’ and find temporary relief from our pain and frustration this way. We are in fact addicted to finding temporary relief from our pain and frustration in this way – if we weren’t able to displace our misery onto the other guy in the way we love to we simply wouldn’t be able to carry on. Self-deception and the passing on of blame to others (when the fault is ours) is how the system which is society gets to perpetuate and maintain itself – that’s the mechanism involved. The system functions by eating itself, by cannibalising itself, and yet each one of us believes that we will somehow be the exception to this rule, each one of us that we will somehow escape the fate of being eaten when out turn comes up. We believe in our ‘specialness’ and we’ll hang on to this belief to the bitter end.
In order for this to work – in order for there to be ‘buy in’ on our part – the role of the predator, the bully, the abuser, the exploiter, the ‘taker’ has to be reframed in a more positive way. It has to be made not just ‘palatable’, but attractive. It has to be made sexy. We do this by calling the successful bully or exploiter ‘a winner’, we do this by fostering ‘the cult of success’, which is the belief structure that glorifies and glamorises success over everything else. Nothing else counts apart from winning, we say – the end always justifies the means. We don’t care how you got to be a winner, only in the fact that you clearly are! Alternatively, we could say that we engineer buy-in by inventing capitalism (which is the paradigm in which the ultimate motivation in life is the motivation to ‘turn a profit’ – which is just another way of saying that the vice of being selfish or narcissistic has been turned into a virtue). Our interactions in a capitalist world are purely transactional, are based entirely on self-interest (which is to say, ‘devaluing the other’), and when we live according to this paradigm it all seems very normal to us, it seems ‘the way things are supposed to be’. Being brought up – as we have been – within this transactional type of culture means that we’re no longer able to register just how ugly it is. Instead of seeing this way of living life as being repellently ugly, we see it as the only possible way of doing things and we will defend it to the best of our ability. We champion the system that degrades us, we support the environment that denies us.
We like to come out with classic lines like ‘competition brings out the best in us’, or ‘the benefit of competition is that it spurs us on to greater and greater levels of excellence’ (or whatever else), whilst the more down-to-earth (and certainly more truthful) way of putting it would be simply to say – as we just have done – is that the system works by devouring itself. As a collective we ‘succeed to the extent that we fail’ (as Alan Watts puts it) – we ‘gain to the extent that we lose’. Society is a zero- sum game, in other words, and what this means is explained by Wikipedia in the following way – ‘If the total gains of the participants are added up, and the total losses are subtracted, they will sum to zero’. The more we push this paradigm – in the hope of increasing profits, in the hope of increasing gain, in the hope of ‘obtaining the personal vindication that we are so desperate for’ – the faster the wheel spins (which is to say, the more voraciously and viciously the serpent proceeds to devours itself). No one does well out of this, naturally enough – the paradigm in which everyone can ultimately be betrayed or sold up the river (since the only thing that matters is personal advantage) appeals to us on one level because we imagine that we can do well for ourselves by throwing everyone else under the bus, but in practise – it is equally disastrous for everyone. We just can’t see that.