 A Great Rolling Down of Sleeves There is a poem by Rudyard Kipling named ‘The Camel’s Hump.’ If you have not yet read the poem, or wish to reread the poem, it is easily found on the Internet. I read the poem many years ago and it stuck in my mind as few poems do. Although I didn’t memorize every line, I vividly recall the first stanza, and absorbed the message at the core of the poem. The first stanza goes like this: ‘The Camel’s hump is an ugly lump Which well you may see at the Zoo; But uglier yet is the lump we get From having too little to do.’ The first time I read through the poem I thought it was just an interesting observation of how humans become out of sorts. And it is. But recently, upon reading several magazine articles which caution humanity must find healthier and more tolerant-to-all-species ways of relating to the earth, the poem appears much more relevant to our times. Like Dan Brown’s book ‘The Da Vinci Code’ which features messages hidden in Leonardo’s paintings – ‘The Camels Hump’ hides a prime message of human-kinds impending dilemma. Now I’ve not been sitting in an isolation chamber the last few years, so I realize there are correlations between human activity, and climate change. I’ve even seen the movie ‘An Inconvenient Truth.’ I know there is a problem; what I have not been hearing are possible solutions. Then I received an email from a member of the BC Field Ornithologists, explaining that the organization was taking ‘a position on the fundamental conflict between economic growth and biodiversity conservation,’ a stance they had adopted at their 2007 annual general meeting in Lillooet. This step by the BCFO was certainly a good beginning and it got me thinking of the challenge of finding a better way. I enjoy birding and it is only natural to be concerned about a healthy planet which sustains the subjects of my pastime. But what can anyone do to help? To display my own interest I responded to the BCFO email by mentioning an article in the July/August 2007 “Walrus Magazine” titled ‘Extraction’ and written by Edward Burtynsky. In the article, Burtynsky asserted that ‘the values we assumed to be good and true, and we fought long and hard to establish, are, in fact, killing us.’ The article also quoted Ronald Wright who wrote that the ‘absurd myth of endless growth’ had to be ‘replaced by respect for natural limits’. Ronald Wright’s name rang a bell and I was sure that somewhere around the house was one of his books. I found it and read it over the next few days. The story of the Easter Islanders and their demise was particularly poignant. Their stone statues kept getting larger and larger, even as resources dwindled - what short-sighted creatures those primitives were. Somewhat later I had a coffee in town and a friend mentioned the most recent Harper’s Magazine contained an article by Curtis White entitled ‘The Idols of Environmentalism.’ When I returned home I found that article and read it. That essay suggested humanity should gain, or regain, a sense of reverence for all things before we could mend the state of the planet. On the internet there was more to the essay and I found the complete article at www.orionmagazine.org The second part of the article is entitled ‘The Ecology of Work.’ A quote from the article reads ‘Unfortunately, on these shores the suggestion that there is something fundamentally destructive in work, money and capitalism leads quickly to emotional denial.’ It seems the nature of our work, and a lack of reverence for other beings is the core of our destructive tendencies. In our consumer society we are raised, and encouraged, to see everything as a resource. Everything! As a consequence, we effectively disrespect the whole planet. It is no accident that the location of heaven is not here on earth but somewhere “out there.” Thus, nothing on earth is seen as worth revering and we will have no qualms about treating the planet in any manner we see fit. And now back to the poem ‘The Camel’s Hump’ by Rudyard Kipling. As the poem explains, children and adults need to work. Work assuages a primordial urge. Work, regardless of occasional grumbling is a great balm to human discontent. Without work life seems pointless, and we become agitated, disgruntled, restless, and directionless. The cure for this strange but very real malaise is not through inactivity, such as reading a book, but through a physical activity, such as work. The poem backs this up in the fifth stanza: ‘The cure for this ill is not to sit still, Or frowst with a book by the fire; But to take a large hoe and shovel also, And dig till you gently perspire’ Humans gain a feeling of rightness through physical activity. Our bodies are composed of many muscles, bones and organs which create problems if not exercised. But there is an even greater pay off to working. Once we experience that sense of accomplishment following activity, we want to revisit the feeling again and again. As the poem reads - that feeling won’t be achieved by ‘frowsting’ with a book by the fire. Boredom pains us. We hurt from boredom and have discovered boredom can be avoided through physical labour; even simple acts that seem innocuous such as potting a few plants or raking leaves into a pile. Exertion changes our state of mind to a rewarding and highly sought sense of accomplishment. These feelings of accomplishment act like a drug and force us to take on extra tasks. And as we complete more tasks, the natural world runs the risk of being ‘worked to death.’ Even our acts of leisure see us attempt to accomplish as much as possible. Relaxing often involves covering as much ground as possible by jumping in cars, or planes, snowmobiles, jet skis, power boats, dirt bikes, quad vehicles, ultra lights, etc – all in the name of unwinding, or as a reward for working ourselves so hard. We are trying to touch what is real in our lives, yet it remains out of reach. “So we’re active! So what? We’re in the game!” Yes indeed. We feel the same species-specific expansionist directive that instinct-driven animals feel naturally. We are helping ourselves, but we also feel the reward for helping our own species succeed. If the majority of a species does well personally, the species does well generally, and doing well guarantees a continued existence. Acquiring space is one way to measure a species’ success and if you look about, humans are doing very well. In fact we covet, and convert much of the planet into areas fit-only-for-humans. It is this activity which gives us the reputation of causing a shrinking biodiversity when we are just trying to flaunt what we have won through our work. So there it is. We made it to the top of the heap and nothing was handed to us. We took it through hard work! We are unbeatable if the challenge requires us to roll up our sleeves and work hard. But now, I think, the challenge has changed. To save ourselves, from ourselves, we must learn to roll down our sleeves and picture the consequences of our actions. We must outthink our natural inclination to work and endless expansion. We are not stupid or short-sighted; we are simply out of balance. I don’t believe humanity is just programmed to work until we drive ourselves off the face of the planet; accepting this notion as fact would be shortchanging the whole idea of humanity having attained self awareness as a species. We’ve read “The Camel’s Hump” and nodded in agreement, but now we need another poem. A poem that balances the work/reward model as the be all, and end all of life. We know the world won’t sustain each new generation owning a three bedroom house and several cars. Those days are gone. The reality of that dream can end naturally and catastrophically, or we can foresee the eventuality and address it. (To be continued) To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
