Progress and Maturity

Everything is dated, but not everything ages. -- Dávila

A couple of posts ago we highlighted the importance of your philosophy or religion applying equally to good and bad times. 

This has real life consequences, because in a place like the United States, it is all too easy to believe in a kind of inevitable progress, because we take for granted all the particular attitudes, values, and difficult choices that made the progress possible. Most of the progress was a side effect of a spontaneous process designed by no one. See Hayek for details.  

It is as if progressives take the effect -- progress -- and presume to turn it into a cause, not unlike "peace activists" who think that if we all just think peaceful thoughts, war and conflict will end. 

Me? I was full of progressive thoughts when I was younger, and progress seemed an inevitable law of the cosmos. For example, I remember lifting weights when I was 18, and the results were immediate and dramatic. But equal effort today would not yield the same automatic results. Rather, it's more a process of forestalling decrepitude for as long as possible. I'm still in good shape, but I'll never be in the shape I was at 18. 

This may partly explain why progressivism makes so much sense to the young and stupid, and certainly why Dems would reduce the voting age to 16 if they could.

To praise youth is to forget our former idiocy.

The young person is proud of his youth, as if it were not a privilege that he shared with the most idiotic.

Young people believe that youth is a destination, when it is merely a provincial bus stop.

Believing that he roars, the youth brays.

The independence of which every youth boasts is no more than submission to the new prevailing fashion.

Adolescents rise up in flight with the contemptuousness of eagles and soon crash softly to the ground like pretentious chickens.

The above thoughts were provoked by an observation by Tolstoy (in Morson):

"Ashamed as I am to confess it, it was only much later that that I recognized why the theory of progress seemed so convincing to me. It was at the time" when "my muscles were growing and strengthening, my memory was being enriched, I was growing and developing; and feeling this growth in myself it was natural for me to think that such was the universal law in which I should find the solution of my life."

I remember well. Good times. Early on I glommed onto the "evolutionary thought" of people like Ken Wilber -- as if all we have to do is ride the coattails of a universe that is inevitably progressive. In fact, if you look at the integral movement subsection, there I am with all those other dubious thinkers with whom I have nothing in common. 

Back to Tolstoy's surprising discovery that progress isn't automatic or endless:

But the time came when I felt I was "fading," my muscles were weakening, my teeth falling out, and I saw that the law not only did not explain anything to me, but that there never had been or could be such a law, and that I had taken for a law what I had found in myself at a certain period of my life.

D'oh! I don't know that I would express it quite so pessimistically, because there is a principle of Life, just not rooted in biology. But there is also a principle of... crucifixion or something, and "he who loses his life for my sake shall find it." 

Morson continues: "since progress, defined as educated people do, depends on educated people, we should hardly be surprised that they are the main 'believers in progress.'" 

That certainly checks out. It seems that spending your life with young people with skulls full of mush has a two-way influence that it didn't have back when human development had a telos -- AKA mature adulthood -- instead of being a kind of perpetual adolescence that "progresses" nowhere,

Which is not to say I have anything against adolescence. But there's a right way and a wrong way to perpetuate it.

A fulfilled life is one that after long years delivers to the grave an adolescent whom life did not corrupt. 

The young mature when the old no longer seems automatically bad and the new no longer seems automatically good.

Without a certain religious childishness, a certain intellectual profundity is unattainable.

Whoever fights against the process of aging merely ages without ever maturing.

 From an old post:

"For Schuon, all natural phenomena are here to convey deeper lessons to us. Thus, for example, our lives are not just divided into day and night, but into seasons: the childhood spring of 'formation and learning'; the mature summer of 'actual and effective realization'; the late-middle age autumn of 'consolidation, reparation, and the directing of others'; and the old age winter of 'detachment and transcendence.' 

"Alternatively, one could say that childhood is 'the paradise of innocence,' youth 'the time of the passions,' maturity 'the time of work,' and old age 'that of sadness' -- at least for the horizontal man. For the vertical man, 'the opposite takes place: age is an ascent towards another world. Extremes meet, as paradise comes into view.'"