Generations of Knowledge

Knowledge in human existence has undergone a progress of trial and error, from the hands of nature, to that of man, and now industry. As hunter gatherers we knew the berries whose juice would poison us , the tubers whose starches would sustain us, and the parts of the animal best to eat and best for tools. We knew these rules to keep us alive because our fathers showed us the way. Many died for our fathers to learn. “Like the first monkeys shot in to space.” Without death and sacrifice, our fathers would have learned nothing. But we left that knowledge in glorious pride for a new way of life. Hunting and gathering came to a halt as the Neolithic stage began.

                 As farmers we came to understand the crops best suited for summer harvest, the pests both harmful and beneficial, and the rotations necessary for a fertile ground. Many starved when their crops failed, because they had no knowledge of survival to catch them when they inevitably fell. They were orphans of knowledge. The successful raised many children, domesticated animals, and honed their methods of till, sow and harvest. We are now leaving that knowledge on the soil and covering it with processing plants. Farmer life disintegrated and the Industrial era began.

                As industrialists our knowledge comes from the labs of scientists, our tools from the factories, and our food from the satellite-scanned farms and distribution networks. Our forefathers marched from the savannahs to the farms, and we march now from the farms to the laboratories. They are isolated from the travails of nature and their method of learning does not leave damage. No more hurt, we say. No more unruly pain. Without death, without sacrifice, our fathers will never learn and our children will never grow.

                We are a traveler who fills his bag along our journey, and upon beholding another greater bag, drops his first, spilling everywhere his memorabilia for walkers by to pick up, or be swept in to the gutters. This new bag is bigger, but made from the same amount of material and thus its fibers are of weaker connections. We loaded this bag with useful objects, from mountain sides to swamps, and in a shorter period than last threw it to the floor as we rushed to swoop up our current bag - larger and more fragile than last. How long will it be before this bag is stocked up and let fall to the floor in a moment of haste? Will it be packed beyond capacity, will it tear sending its holdings to the ground once again? These are the questions a traveler must ask before he starts forward on his journey. But he rarely does. He calls the older bags primitive and he loathes them, while praises and deifies the newer. What this traveler fails to realize is that it is not the bag which matters for his journey, nor is it the objects or memorabilia gathered along the way. It is the relationship between bag and item that must be recognized. If a balance is not found - if the bag is too weak and items too many; or the bag too small and the items too few for even basic survival and fulfillment – then the bag will eventually rip open and send our objects to the floor, where they will be crushed, or swept in to the gutter; or we will starve and be left for the wolves of mother earth. And the traveler will never be able to tell his full story.