9 May 2020

Uncertain - about these uncertain times

We are living in uncertain times.

Many of us feel very unsettled, even in the relative safety of Australia. When we are not searching out the latest pandemic news, we are flooding social media with our struggle to find focus or positivity, or we are comforting ourselves with nostalgia on travel, books and music, getting into gardening and busy work.

I sure feel a greater sense of uncertainty than I did this time last year.

The words: 'these uncertain times' are everywhere - news stories, ministerial announcements, articles on physical and mental health, reports, and advertisements for everything from cleaning products to insurance to dating apps. Some go so far as to call our times 'an era of uncertainty'. (Here's an Australian example from 2018.) An American report published in 2004, told us to expect that 2020 would be characterised by a 'pervasive sense of insecurityrelated to concerns over job security, fears around migration, terrorism and internal conflicts, and military conflicts .

No prediction of a global pandemic though, the latest source of the ubiquitous statement that we are 'living in uncertain times'.

Try searching Google's library of digitised manuscripts for the phrase 'these uncertain times', and you'll find that it occurs over and over, in hundreds of journals and books, in virtually every decade the database encompasses, reaching back to the seventeenth century.But are 'these times' truly more uncertain than other times? 

In his book, The Antidote - Happiness for people who can't stand positive thinking, Oliver Burkeman says that every era describes itself as characterised by unprecedented uncertainties and lack of stability. 

Just a few of his examples:
♦️  In 1951, Alan Watt highlighted a contemporary 'feeling that we live in a time of unusual insecurity'… referring to the impact of the breakdown of long-established family, social, economic and belief traditions.
♦️ Writing about the Roman Republic and Empire over three centuries is replete with political instability and social unrest and the impact on people who felt their future was disturbingly uncertain.
The idea that earlier times were more certain and stable than our own experience of life is really just nostalgia, based on an imagined and idealised past.

In fact, when you're fully engrossed in living your own life, you face uncertainty all the time.

Because life is irrevocably, constantly and most certainly uncertain. 

The global pandemic reveals a fundamental truth: we humans are deeply deluded that we are fully in control of ourselves, our future, our world. We desperately want to believe we can make our lives certain, set and fixed. 
(A note that this blog is limited to the Western society I know. I can't speak beyond that; that's probably important.)

We humans prefer and need predictability (especially about other people) for our sense of safety, and we will do what we can to decrease uncertainty. 

We see uncertainty as entirely negative. The word uncertain has a few aspects to its meaning:
♦️ not known beyond doubt, not having certain knowledge, not clearly identified or defined, not constant, indefinite, indeterminate, not certain to occur, not reliable.

The synonyms for uncertain reinforce the sense it is a negative state:
♦️ dubious, doubtful, variable, fitful, indefinite, indeterminate, problematical, untrustworthy

I get it; we find uncertainty unpleasant and uncomfortable.

Throughout our history, every human individual and every group has taken steps to increase safety and predictability in a risky and unpredictable natural world, creating 'enclosures' within which we feel a sense of control - the cave, the building, the large group, the shared belief system, civilised society. The desire for security, predictability and certainty is part of the human condition.

And in the twenty-first century, we believe we have achieved predictability and certainty! 

These enclosures have allowed contemporary Western society to convince itself that we have separated ourselves from all the uncertainties and vagaries of nature. We move from one safe enclosure to another - our cars, homes, shops, offices and gyms. A visit to 'wilderness' is a special event with extra precautions. We believe that we have controlled the natural hazards which now cannot infiltrate our safety and security. While we may realise that some people don't have the same safety and control in their lives, we tell ourselves that's just because they are in 'less developed' or 'less civilised' countries.

As a result, western society is quite unpractised in living with uncertainty.

Our delusion of being in control is invisible to us, but is so extensive and robust that we react furiously to anything that could challenge the delusion. Some have a minor tantrum when the product they want in the colour they want is not available the day they want it. Some have major outbursts when they feel they are not in control of other people, as in road rage and domestic violence. 'How dare something not be as I want it to be?'

As a matter of fact, our age is no more insecure than any other. Poverty, disease, war, change and death are nothing new.Wrapped in our safety enclosures and clasping our control delusion fiercely, we forget that we are connected to all living things and all earth systems. It is all too easy to fail to see that we are ultimately dependent on a dynamic and complex planet, with its inevitable uncertainties.

Not only do we tend to react defensively or aggressively to any threats to our delusion of control in our personal lives, we can fail to prepare for things that can, and probably will, go wrong. Like a pandemic, predicted by epidemiologists, unplanned for by most governments in the world. 

The pandemic is a graphic reminder that we can only maintain the delusion of being in control for so long before reality kicks us in the shins. At some point, we have to face the reality that humans are governed by biology, by chemistry and physics, and by limits both social and physical. Life remains irrevocably uncertain, regardless of our deep desire for complete control and to be insulated from danger and uncertainty. Disease and death have always been our lot. 

Uncertainty is the human condition. Desire for certainty is also the human condition. 

This conflict is the source of much human distress, and has engaged many thinkers over the centuries:
♦️ Buddhism - We expect happiness from states and things which are impermanent by nature; we cling to and crave certainty and fixity despite the general insecurity of all phenomena. We therefore experience 'suffering' in the Buddhist sense of the word: the intrinsically unsatisfactory nature of temporary states and things, even those that are pleasant, and we therefore cannot attain real happiness.
♦️ Taoist yin-yang - the symbol represents that a true understanding of the world involves accepting the inevitable flux and change of everything. 
♦️ John Keats: [I realised] what quality went to form a man of achievement…negative capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.
♦️ Alan Watts: ... we cannot be happy until we find a way to accept that our life is riddled with insecurity. For as long as we want it to be fair, we suffer. Change invites us to surrender. And if we refuse, it carries on regardless.
♦️ Read about Erich Fromm's view that uncertainty is actually the human lot and that understanding and accepting our human fragility is key to survival and living authentically. 
♦️ and many, many more.

So, philosophers and psychologists suggest we can only resolve this distress through learning to live with uncertainty. But our society prefers to deny it, to willfully disregard the nature of the natural world that we are dependent upon.

But does uncertainty necessarily have to be bad? Do we have to feel distressed?

The delightful Incidental Comics has two cartoons on uncertainty recently: A New Year and UncertaintyThey convey that both positive opportunities and potential danger reside in the inherent uncertain nature of all things. It's not all bad.

A new year (9 panels) and Uncertainty, 11 panels) showing uncertainty allows both negative and positive experiences
Sources: A Yew Year;  Uncertainty    Click image to enlarge or view at the source.

In contemporary Western society, however, we generally don't see uncertainty as a positive state. We don't want to feel that discomfort.

We attempt to make the future certain through planning and goal setting, sometimes obsessively.

Oliver Burkeman again: 
'What motivates our investment in goals and planning for the future isn’t any sober recognition of the virtues of preparation and looking ahead. Rather it’s something much more emotional: how deeply uncomfortable we are made by feelings of uncertainty. Faced with the anxiety of not knowing what the future holds, we invest ever more fiercely in our preferred vision of that future - not because it will help us achieve it, but because [planning] helps rid us of feelings of uncertainty in the present. Uncertainty prompts us to idealise the future.'

Planning and goal-setting rest on making assumptions that innumerable things won't change. We have to make assumptions so we can do things, choose activities we enjoy, achieve things we desire. Unless we make some assumptions about the future, we can end up paralysed by inertia. 

At all times, however, we need to remember we made assumptions things wouldn't change when we made our plans, when we created our idealised image of the future in our minds. If we remember that, we can better cope with change when it inevitably comes. The most successful businesspeople adapt goals and strategies to changing situations; the calmest parents can accommodate the variable requirements of young children; the best holiday plans involve flexibility. They all allow for uncertainty.

Speaking of holidays, I was planning an overseas trip this coming November. I had chosen the destination, planned an itinerary, booked flights, paid a deposit, researched the best trekking gear for the terrain. To make my plan, I assumed so many things would stay the same: my idea, my research, my flights, my walking trek route, my photography, my social media, my family's health, my own health, the geological and political stability of the area, the weather patterns, right through to the basics of the food supply, etc.

Any one of which could change at any time, because, well change is always happening.

And when things do change, when there is, for example, a global pandemic and travel is shut down, we say 'times are uncertain' when we should say, 'well I HAD made a set of assumptions to make that plan, and those no longer apply.' Disappointing, perhaps costly, but always likely. Not uncertain at all.

In fact, change is inevitable. All things change. It's just that some of those changes get in the way of a particular trekking plan you might have had. And then we say: it's the 'times' that are uniquely uncertain?

gauge from low-moderate (green) through to dark red catastrophic, with arrow at extreme.
Someone call the Volunteer Certainty Brigade!!
Can you have degrees of uncertainty? If things are always uncertain, can we say that this particular time does feel even more uncertain? A low level up to a catastrophic level of uncertainty, just like our fire danger ratings? Thinking about uncertainty on a scale is how we convince ourselves that people in the past had a much easier time of it, back when things were much more certain. Back when things didn’t change unpredictably.

In reality, the uncertainty arrow always points to severe to extreme. There just isn't any other rating. (I would remove the 'catastrophic' category altogether, because that is our judgement, our perception, our sense of distress, rather than any nature of uncertainty itself. Uncertainty just is.)  

Obviously, some changes are bigger than others. Some changes impact on more aspects of your life. The global pandemic's reach is pervasive for many of us, affecting every aspect of our lives at once. This means two things.

Firstly, we are forced to face our delusion that we can make things certain and fixed. Usually, when faced with an uncertain situation in one area, we humans tend to divert our focus somewhere that we feel we have some control. For example, we may feel limited control at work, but complete control over a hobby or what we buy. However, right now we cannot maintain our sense of control anywhere. We can't do very much to dispel the distress of uncertainty, although some will try, for example buying a year's worth of toilet paper. Complete control in the toilet enclosure!

Secondly, we are unable to plan much at all. We can't create an idealised future because we don't know when restrictions will be lifted, if the infection rate will jump out of control again, what all the implications are for work, socialising, holidays. We can't even plan dinner tomorrow night with any certainty. What if the shops have run out of pasta? What if the supply of tomatoes is threatened? More distress.

Of course, some people are experiencing real trauma because of the pandemic: real poverty, homelessness, physical and mental illness, lack of food, imminent death, or the loss of loved ones. I don't mean to make light of the real impacts on people; they are serious and they are distressing.

Most of us, though, especially in Australia, are dealing mainly with the trauma of the loss of delusion that we control our lives and our future is certain. It is most unpleasant. We attribute this discomfort to living in 'these uncertain times'.

only the severe and extreme ratings remain, with the arrow pointing in the middle.
Uncertainty does not come on a scale
In fact, the 'times' are just as uncertain as always: severely to extremely uncertain.

Instead of 'uniquely uncertain times', I would say we are living in 'can't avoid uncertainty times'. We have lost the various measures, distractions and controls that we put in place to avoid facing reality. Plans are no longer a solace for the certainty of uncertainty, no longer amour against our lack of control. 

We can't maintain our delusion of control, we can't plan, so we stare openly into the face of uncertainty.

Uncertainty is always and everywhere.

We have just been avoiding it, because we don't like how it feels.

The price that man pays for consciousness is insecurity. He can stand his insecurity by being aware and accepting the human condition, and by the hope that he will not fail even though he has no guarantee for success. He has no certainty; the only certain prediction he can make is: 'I shall die.'

Okay, that final sentence seems scary. But it's scary largely because we forgot it is always true. We have avoided thinking about our fragility, our dependence on the natural world, and our temporary existence. When we cannot avoid facing it, like when a pandemic threatens the lives of our family and friends or even ourselves, it can initially generate intense emotion that feel overwhelming or like drowning. 

Yes, it does feel negative. I don't like it at all.

But we could sit with those feelings. We could stop running from our fear of uncertainty, trying to suppress our emotion, or taking measures to control the future. We could learn to face reality and see that uncertainty itself can give our life meaning.

The quest for certainty blocks the search for meaning. Uncertainty is the very condition to impel man to unfold his powers.
Source: AZ Quotes

The Buddhists teach that if you repress your feelings, you end up expressing them in other ways, such as physical ill-health or self-destructive behaviours. 

Instead of repressing our fear, we could start by accepting its legitimacy. We could allow ourselves to fully feel it. At first it will fill up your mind and body, but this will soon ease, it will be a little less overwhelming. Soon it will get even smaller and perhaps even leave your awareness. 

Our feelings are meant to be felt, both the positive and negative. 

Of course, take the actions necessary to stay safe in the present. Observe the recommendations about actual threats. But check whether you're trying merely to avoid feeling the fear that comes with the reality of our limited control over the future: busying yourself, distracting yourself, panic buying.

The ideal is to experience the fear of uncertainty without letting that fear dictate your actions.

It will be very uncomfortable to start with, because we are so out of practice. But we can learn to become more comfortable with uncertainty. We could start to view uncertainty in its fullness as did Incidental Comics: look forward to what are currently unknown opportunities, recognise that some things will not be as we wish, see potential in what might come next, rather than dread our inability to predict and control it. Like our early ancestors, we could learn to live with uncertainty and lack of control.

It's an empowering and liberating alternative to working ceaselessly to uphold a delusionWe could stop expending energy to control the uncontrollable.

If we were able to learn to live with the discomfort of uncertainty, we could then stop doing the irrational and sometimes awful things we do to maintain the delusion of control. I will explore the many implications of maintaining the delusion in Part 2

If we were to bravely face our vulnerability, to face the reality within which we live, we could change our society for the better.



References
  • Burkeman, Oliver. (2013). The Antidote. Happiness for people who can't stand positive thinking. Text Publishing Co. Australia. 
  • Incidental Comics: New Year (Jan 2016); Uncertainty (April 2020). Grant Snider [CC BY-NC-ND 4.0].
  • Watts, Alan. (2011, originally printed 1951). The Wisdom of Insecurity. Random House Inc. USA
  • Other images by the author. 



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