Could civilization just be an awkward stage in human evolution, a necessary bridge to a higher level of humanity?
It’s possible that we will emerge from civilization in a new form that is better adapted to work with the whole. But there is no reason to believe the whole thing was necessary, except that it’s easier to take than the idea that it was not necessary. And there would be no reason to call the new form “higher,” to apply a vertical metaphor to harmony, other than attachment to the myth of straight-line, open-ended, absolute-value “progress,” which is purely an artifact of civilization. We create fantasy sub-worlds in which it’s true: going from fifth grade to sixth grade, or raising the level of a game character, or getting promoted to vice president or full professor. But nothing in reality moves like this. In reality, things move in circles — the seasons, the sun, the planets, the migrations of birds — or like a coyote they wander from one place to the next, playfully, without any number line attached. If we’re like the former, we’re going to keep cycling through complexity and collap
