Been engrossed lately in a great book, which i’ll tell you about in just a second.
First, let me clear something up. No, lady, that was not my finger in your chili, sorry. But, yes, i do still use press-ons. They’re so much more economical than professionally-set acrylics, and in my line of work, you go through a lot of nails. Got it?
Anyhow.
I’ve been reading Howard Bloom’s first book, The Lucifer Principle (Atlantic Monthly Press, 1995), and would like to inundate you all with some thoughts. Until you complain too loudly, that is. Apologies in advance to those of short attention span; there aren’t a lot of colourful links to follow here. Although with a little curiosity and that little google toolbar up there, it can get interesting pretty quickly.
A bit about the author. Although Bloom made his name as a publicist for the music industry in the early ’80s (including a stint deflecting media attention from Bob Marley’s grueling battle against brain cancer), he was trained as a scientist and still exhibits the intellect and tenacity of a lifelong scholar. He’s since penned another pan-historical exploration, Global Brain, which reads in a similarly exhilarating fashion. Here’s his official bio, which exudes a subtle windbag-type aroma. Lest this praise mount too royally, let it be said that he is also a bit of an eccentric and, reportedly, a slum lord.
That said, The Lucifer Principle is saddled with the somnambulant subtitle “A Scientific Expedition Into the Forces of History,” which while technically true, doesn’t say much. Bloom weaves a complex tapestry of evolutionary biology, human & primate anthropology, political history, and psychology; he also tosses in countless anecdotal crotch-kicks from about a million other disciplines and sub-sects of academia and pop culture. Thankfully, his PR-training has enabled him to lay the goods out there in such an attractive fashion that one forgets he’s essentially undergoing an extensive academic literature review. Perhaps a more apt subtitle would read something like: “A Graphically Annotated Bibliography of Human Cruelty & Survival”.
The Lucifer Principle itself is an attempt at codifying the complex operations at work beneath the surface of humankind’s destructive behaviour. (Think Holocaust; Crusades; Guantanamo Bay; Great Leap Forward; Gulag Archipelago; ANWR; Three Gorges; My Lai; Bhopal; Hiroshima; 9/11/01; Native Americans; Colonial Africa; Oklahoma City; Columbine; the whole nut. Pause. Digest.) Bloom guides us through the genetic engines of evolution, pointing out the merits of individual and kin selection theories, and tossing in solid criticism of both. His synthesis, throughout, transcends accepted scientific dogmas; in this lies much of the book’s intellectual appeal.
His refutation of kin selection, for example, is brilliant. Kin selection theory was developed in the 1930s as a sort of refinement of Darwin’s idea of individual selection. By broadening the scope of natural selection from the individual to the family or tribal level, kin theorists were able to deflect criticism of their rapidly stagnating dogma.
Most of this criticism came from those scientists outside the post-Darwinian establishment who observed that self-sacrificing behaviour didn’t jive with a purely individually-based theory of natural selection. To explain the all-too-common natural act of self-sacrifice, kin theorists explained that such creatures were clearly putting their family’s presumably identical genetics ahead of their own. Case closed, la-di-da.
Bloom, cushioned by others’ research, cuts through the smokescreen of kin selection by calling into question human suicide; he cites also countless examples of isolated individuals essentially withering to death without companionship. Through careful explanation and measured implication, we come to understand the fundamental necessity of a social network and the overarching importance of the superorganism. But first, back to basics.
How’d our oil get underneath their desert?
Once we reach the macrobiological level, we encounter dozens of examples of life feeding on life, in order to sustain itself. Bloom’s explanation can be distilled to a biological economics of scarcity, writ large: With only so much raw material to go around, life on all levels must compete for resources. Commonly, those resources happen to be essential components of other life forms.
“Nature has made [Hegel's] tragedy a basic law of her universe.
She presents her children with a choice between death and death.”
Out of the primatology literature comes a staggering series of examples wherein chimpanzees and gorillas demonstrate what we commonly conceive of as human political interactions: jealousy, adultery, murder, territoriality, kidnapping, infanticide, and, yes, warfare. Violent, bloody, skull-shattering ape-on-ape warfare. One could spend a lifetime pondering the metaphors for international relations provided us by our simian brethren; Bloom indulges for only a few chapters. This, by the way, is precisely what Tim Leary was getting at when he insisted that no one discuss politics unless on all fours.
“Politics, as a practice, whatever its professions,
has always been the systematic organization of hatreds.”
— Henry Adams
Bloom’s exploration of the roots of hatred leads into familiar territory, with frustration and repressed sexuality ranking among the leading drives. Rather than dwelling on psychoanalysis, though, he turns his critical eye on those who manifest and exploit hatred for their own ends. His synopsis of religious fundamentalism is one of the best around:
A simple perceptual device designed to anesthetize us from the nastier aspects of our inner reality has given the fundamentalist movement much of its power. From the sexuality their followers reject within themselves, the leaders have conjured up the lechery of a satanic enemy. From the hostility the faithful hide from themselves, the leaders have built a fantasy of an adversary obsessed with violence. They have crafted the indispensable tool that pulls together a superorganism.
Although that particular passage was made in reference to Falwell & Co., its universality is evident. Which is to note that American women aren’t walking around in burqas yet.
Just before embarking on his explanation of memes and memetic warfare, Bloom lays down an outline of his Lucifer Principle as it pertains to the human superorganism, specifically political sects and nation-states:
• Every tribe regards outsiders as fair game
• Every society gives permission to hate
• Each culture dresses its hatred in the garb of righteousness
• The man who channels this hatred can lead the superorganism by its nose
And so here we are.
Allow me to disclaim the efficacy of distilling complex biological and social arrangements into bitesized niblets: This is not the whole equation. Please read the book if you’re interested; it should be available at your local public library. If it’s not, request that it be made so. Until then, here’s a list of used book dealers who are offering it for sale, many of them on the cheap.
‘Til next time.
