The Tower of Hattan (A Short Story)

Photo Credit: Kranich17

One day a man of Hattan said, “We should build a giant skyscraper up to the heavens. It would be the perfect city, heaven on earth, with everything we need all in one place: our homes, our businesses, our shopping, our schools, our worship, our recreation. We would be able to do everything inside without ever having to leave.”

Many people in Hattan liked this, so they elected him mayor. They began construction immediately in the city’s center.

God saw their desire to build a wondrous tower just like the heavens and decided to help them. As construction demands grew, they needed more and more workers, so God brought people from all corners of the world to help create, build, and dwell in this new heaven, and they settled in the areas surrounding the tower.

As these workers started to build, some became weary of how these foreigners were hurting the city. Even worse, they started to incorporate their own thinking, their own concepts into the building. As the building became larger, these became parts of the foundation of this skyscraper.
The mayor tried to counter with an even more ambitious, unified plan to build over and around the deviations, which had become too embedded into the tower’s structural integrity to remove.

This required even more people with even more language and ideas. They moved into the ever-expanding communities surrounding the tower. Eventually, these peoples became weary of constructing the tower for the ungrateful inhabitants. Instead, these communities elected a new mayor who cancelled its construction once and for all to focus on the economic development of the now sprawling city and its residents.

At a press conference after her inauguration, she announced, “We will preserve the remains of this site as a memorial to our attempt to build a tower over the heavens.”

“The past mayor promised to build a heavenly place for us to live. What do you say to criticism that you are stopping this attempt to construct this heaven?” A journalist inquired.

“We are still going to try to make this city into its own heaven,” she replied. “But God’s Heaven is just wide before it is high.”

How to Speak to a Stray: Treating the “Dangerous Other” with Respect

One day, when I was walking down the street in Suva, the capital and biggest city in Fiji, there was a dog crying in extreme distress. He was a hairless dog with only a small strand of hair on the ridge of his back. The indifferent way the other people responded to him made me think he was a stray: no one took responsibility for him or decided to help him when he was clearly shouting in pain. 

He was sitting on the edge of a hill on a concrete staircase. He tried to simply sit on the hill but could not keep his balance. He would topple down the stairs, slamming into the concrete on the way down. Each time he fell, he would try to burrow into the crevice of the stair he was on, only to lose his balance and fall again until he crashed into the gutter below. There he cried chest deep in the water, seemingly disoriented, unsure what was happening. 

I tried to approach the dog, but the dog who lived in the house did not like me and barked territorially at me. So instead, I called soothing words to this dog as he lay there frantic in the water. The soothing tone of my voice – or at least the fact that he had stopped falling – seemed to calm him down, and he lay there panting like he was still processing where he was. I still don’t know what was wrong. The way he was twitching on the one side made me think he was having a stroke. I will never know since the other dog wouldn’t let me approach, so eventually I left. 

The people who lived nearby came out, but they seemed indifferent to this dog as if he wasn’t their problem. A few hours later, the boy living there told me that the dog had scurried away, and they didn’t know where he was now. They didn’t seem to care much for this stray dog; I guess it’s just one of many to them in the neighborhood. I just hope that however long this dog has left to live, he has as little suffering as possible. 

Here’s another example. One night, when I was walking into a store to buy some water in American Samoa, I saw two dogs lying there. A staff member exited the little shop carrying a large, empty cardboard box, and one of the dogs followed him. He looked excited walking next to him wanting to say hello. The guy whacked the dog with the empty box harshly as a way to tell him to get away. 

When I left the store a few minutes later with my water, right as the staff member was walking back into the store, the dog seemed noticeably more distressed. He was barking erratically like he was emotionally distraught. From the barks’ tone, I thought he was a mixture of scared and angry. He didn’t approach me as I walked by a few feet away, and he didn’t seem interested. He was just barking his distress to the world. 

These islands are full of stray, semi-domesticated, and pet dogs who roam the yards and streets. Roaming dogs are common in many countries around the world. What feels weird is the extent to which humans in Oceania only seemed to interact with hostility with the dogs. 

In response, the dogs in this part of the world feel noticeably more aggressive. When I was walking to my Airbnb, several dogs came after me growling, showing their teeth, and trying to signal that they would attack me. That is the default response many dogs have to any human they do not know. A neighbor recommended I carry some rocks when I walk to throw them when they barked at me, and I have seen others carry a big stick for a similar purpose. 

I do not doubt the practical wisdom in having a weapon in case of a specific dog who seems intent on biting you. I have had dogs there come within a yard of me biting meanly like they are about to jump me. Interestingly, they never do; they seem to only try to warn me, not actually come after me. A weapon, though, just in case the dog changes its mind does sound nice in a situation like this.

At the same time, I feel like this kind of hostile response to dogs, in general, just leads to an arms race. Dogs become more aggressive, and in turn the humans become more violent in response. It just escalates the response necessary to handle a dog. Dogs in this part of the world seem noticeably less friendly. Even if they think you are safe, they will stop at about a yard/meter away. This is not normal for dogs, who are often very eager for pets. I suspect because so many humans have lounged themselves at them, that they have learned to feel afraid when a human is nearby. There has to be a better way. 

Some of this may be cultural. Not every culture or individual likes dogs, for example. At the same time, I wonder if there is a broader pattern for how to deal with others we perceive as threats. During the heat of an attack, we may need to defend ourselves, sure, but in my experience, how we respond to others influences how they in turn respond to us. 

But if we treat another (whether a dog, another animal, or a fellow human) as a threat that we need to stave off, they will pick up on that energy and respond to us accordingly. Maybe we should cultivate creative ways to nonviolently engage with others around us rather than cajoling those we see as threats to our wellbeing. This may take innovation but leads to more wholesome relationships. 

The Woman in the Green Dress (A Short Story)

I stood there transfixed. I didn’t know why. I hadn’t been dumbfounded like this before for a long time. What was it about her?

She stood in front of me smiling. She had long, straight black hair down to her shoulders. There her hair ended with a slight fold like a J on her shoulder, and the straps of her green dress started. It was an elegant green shawl with a matching green gown that extended all the way down to her legs, where it seemed to almost transition into the green from the forest.

“Why are you dressed so nicely to walk through the jungle like this?” I asked. And at like 6:00 am, I thought to myself.

“Oh thank you,” she chirped back. “I’m on my way home from my night out.”

“Where do you live? I see nothing but banana trees.”

“Come. I can show you.”

She grabbed my arm and started walking. I hesitated at first, but I had nothing better to do. I wasn’t really feeling my morning jog anymore anyways.

As she walked, it seemed more like she was gliding through the shrubs rather than taking steps. She moved with the ease of someone who was at home in this place.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

I explained how I am an American on vacation to Chiang Mai, needing a break from the constant churn of work.

“Humanity just constantly spins in an endless cycle,” she replied.

“Where are you from, and what do you do?” I asked, but she just grabbed my arm.

“I’ll show you,” she beckoned. I got confused as she took me deeper into the forest, where it seemed even less likely someone would live.

Suddenly, she stopped, in front of a massive banana tree.

“This is my home,” she explained. I began to reply, “Where? In the tree?” There was nothing here, just the forest. But as my words came out, she waved her index finger in front of my mouth, whispering “Shh.” I got really sleepy all of the sudden and collapsed into her arms.

Next thing I remember, I woke up on a bed in a bedroom with yellow walls.

“Where am I?” I screamed.

She walked over and sat on the bed next to my feet. “This is my home.”

“What?! Where did you take me?”

“This is my home, inside the banana tree.”

I screamed confused, but she whispered to me to go back to sleep saying she would explain when I was ready.


That was how I first came here. When I woke up next, I learned that she lived many many years ago but now inhabited this tree.

She said she once was a living person, but after her death, she realized how much humans stress themselves with the constant churn: to produce more, build more wealth, gain more status. Like a wave constantly hitting against the shore in an endless cycle. Now, she lives in the banana tree in peace and tranquility. She can go out and visit the humans when she wants to watch our flurry of activity, but she has mostly just enjoyed the peace of being in the forest.

“You sound like you need a break,” she explained. “So, you can stay with me as long as you’d like. I have everything your mortal body could possibly need here: food, water, a bed to sleep. But you can leave anytime you like.”

Sometimes I do go out for a few days to see the human world again. But mostly, I find peace in the tranquil state of existence under the banana tree with her by my side.

When I do go into the city, I find signs with a picture of my face labelled as a missing person. By this point, the humans must presume I’m dead. But they can only view “living” as producing within their system of constant churn, so it makes sense they would view my existence as a type of death. But I have really never felt more alive in my life.

Our City Is a Womb (A Short Story)

Visiting OHD Museum, an art museum in Magelang, Indonesia, I saw this piece of art: “Reflion” by Meretas Solusi. This story popped into my head to explain the piece. I am not sure if it’s anywhere near what the artist was originally going for, however.

What even is this place? I sit drinking my glass of wine on the edge of my window overlooking the drop-off. Before me is a vast forest, and in the horizon, I can make out the nearest city. It looks like another big blob in the sky. Tons of houses facing the edge of a human-made cliff, just like mine. 

Our city is a womb. Are we a society that never truly left its home? We are too afraid of what our people did to the world when we did venture out. Maybe it’s better to stay inside. 

This endless forest, this is what we created. I can see the trees swaying in the wind. I am a little too high up to see the forest floor, but I see the occasional perched bird in the trees fly away. The forest looks green. I still remember when the trees were an unholy orange. It took us decades to grow it back, and if staying inside the confines of the city is what is necessary to keep safe, then so be it. 

I am old, though, so this is much easier for me to say. The youth are the ones who want to venture back out. They feel confined by the city. Yes, we have paths leading to the other cities, but these are not enough. They yearn to explore the world of the trees, birds, and mountains. I can’t blame them. I lived in a time when this was common. I wish we could venture back out without creating the same problems we did before. 

They will send scientists and filmmakers into the world, trained in how to leave no trace in the wilderness to take videos and pictures. Our city consumes clips of strange animals and majestic landscapes with the same carnivorous energy we once hunted each other with. Many youth want to be on their crew of adventurers, but only a handful get selected. They become the new celebrities in our cloistered world. 

I wish there was a way to send more out without creating the same consumptive craving that plagued humanity for centuries. The Council seems skeptical. Being older, like me, they all saw the perils humanity could unleash. They treat them like a fallen piece of wood to be rehammered back into place. That isn’t fair to them. They are just curious and want adventure. Every generation is like that when they are young. They see beauty and want to live in it up-close. If only we could. 

I take another sip of wine. 

Seeing People’s Inner Child: De-escalating Adult Conflicts by Addressing Unmet Needs

Photo Credit: alanajordan

Many adults still act like children. Some routinely; others only on their bad days. When you see someone lashing out impulsively or defensively when they argue with you, it can be helpful to step back and see their inner child to put their behavior into perspective. 

This is not the same as agreeing with them: they still may be wrong. But seeing their tantruming inner child can help you understand what needs they feel are not being met and are causing them to lash out. This can be something you address directly. Figuring out a workable way to acknowledge and maybe address that need within the bounds of your own goals can be a practical way to get through the moment, especially when they are in a position of authority over you. This usually slows them down and helps deescalate the situation. 

At the very least, it can help empathize with them. Empathizing is not the same as agreeing, nor is it the same as allowing or enabling any inappropriate behavior they may be doing. It is understanding their behavior enough to see the human inside, often a series of needs screaming to be heard, and confronting it directly. Even if your empathy is not safe to show in the moment or if they reject your empathy, empathetically acknowledging the feelings of another is about maintaining your own humanity and not allowing another’s behavior to curb your ability to acknowledge and address the humanity of others around you. 

So, how can this help you respond? Others have spoken at length about how to use understanding to negotiate and reduce conflict (see this for example). One can use empathy to diffuse a situation by acknowledging their side, to demonstrate mutual self-respect, or if necessary, to set proper boundaries for one’s own needs. 

Pausing to reflect on the needs the other has can help remove you from the intensity of the situation, which would help you form the nuanced response necessary. It can allow you to understand not only their needs, but your needs and develop an effective strategy for how to meet those needs in the moment. Often, when someone seems to come after us, our bodies move immediately into a reactive, defensive response. The perceived threat puts us into “go mode” and taking an extra second to understand empathetically gives us the space to pull back, assess the situation anew, and use both our emotions and reason to develop a better, strategic response. 

Instead of launching, you pause and force yourself to think about it from their perspective, sometimes you realize aspects of your behavior that you do need to address. Worst case scenario, after you reflect for a bit, you still conclude that you are wrong, and in that situation, taking a step back allows you to help confirm that, and you are now in a better mental space to respond appropriately. 

A Warning from Death (A Short Story)

Hello,

I wanted to write a letter to clear things up. I am quite possibly the most misunderstood person you will meet. Most people fear me, but I’m not scary. I am the one who helps you pursue what is most important in life. I am the End, yes, but the end is what makes the journey a journey. Without it, you would no real reason to focus on what is most important, nor acceptance of what you have. By establishing finiteness, I establish value.

I know very well what it is like to be feared. This is the standard way humans misunderstand me. I have dealt with it for millennia. What I didn’t anticipate was your corporations. They drain bits and pieces of my essence for their profit, all in the effort to give others cheap profit. Momentary happiness or release to hook people into an addiction in which I slowly drain them into me. The endless machine of more and more is ever consuming. It will only expand to engulf your world and everything in it.

What is truly shocking to me is how these humans who drain the life of others for their own profit don’t really gain much of anything in the process. These vampires are too wasting their life. They just spend their life trying to make more instead of enjoying what they have. Addicted to money and the gain for more more more each quarter, they remake their consumers into their own vampiric image. They also leave their employees husks of their former selves, only able to consume with the little energy and money they have. Take me as a purist, but this bends the very foundation of what I am.

So take this my warning. Embrace death so that you can embrace life, but if you embrace this, you are embracing nothing but a shadowy existence that is neither.

Yours truly,
Death

How Is Complicity for Current Injustices Actually Distributed: The Good Place’s View of the Modern World (Reflection #8 in “The Good Place Miniseries)

I recently rewatched “The Good Place” (spoiler warning), one of my favorite shows from the last ten years, and I noticed so much more about the show the second time around. I decided to write a miniseries analyzing different facets of the show – some complimentary, some critical – as a tribute to one of the most thoughtful and interesting sitcoms on mainstream US television. Here are the previous reflection and next reflection in the series. I hope you enjoy.

In the Good Place, making moral and ethical decisions has become noticeably harder than in the modern world. Over the past 500 years, no human has lived a life worthy in their points system to make it into the Good Place, instead all of them have been damned to the show’s version of hell. Wow, that is quite a statement about the modern world. 

The show’s reason as to why this is happening is that the modern world has grown increasingly complicated, meaning that we must shift how we assess the morality of the decisions humans have to make to navigate this world. For example, Michael describes a boy in the Paleolithic Era picking fresh flowers from the forest and giving them to his mom, an altruistic act that earns him many positive moral points. When an equivalent contemporary boy buys flowers to present to his mom, his generosity gives him some positive credit, but it is offset by the unethical treatment of the worker who farmed the flower, the oil needed to transport it to that shop, and all sorts of other factors.  In defense of the flowers now being negative, the Judge responds that the information is available about, say the plight of the workers on the flower plantations, and the boy chose to buy those flowers that had been farmed in that way and thus to implicate himself into that context. The response from the other characters is that researching everything or completely removing yourself from all instances of injustice while still doing what is needed to survive is unrealistically difficult in the contemporary world. 

This illustrates the fundamental problem the show sees within modern life: the vast interconnectedness makes people reliant on systems that conduct unethical acts in difficult to understand ways around the world. And the individual is held responsible for how their, even seemingly innocent, acts are complicit in these injustices. 

I see an implied primitivism in this view. Past eras of history were simple, much more local. Then when you make a decision, all the necessary thinking is right there in front of you. Modernity has produced interlocking webs that remove an individual from the full context in which the products around them come from, becoming overly complex ethically and morally in the process. This vaguely reminds me of Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s idea of the innocent noble savage or that mass society corrupts individuals, and also Mahatma Gandhi’s view that humans are best off living local lives in their small communities but that mass travel and communication has corrupted humanity as it forced it to scale up. In contrast to many primitivist thinkers, though, the show does not consider a return to “simple society” to be realistic, instead ultimately arguing that the retribution nature of moral criticism is what has got to give. 

As an anthropologist, I view such primitivism as an oversimplification of past periods of human history. Humanity has almost always been interconnected in multilayered connections. The show imagines the past as a kind of simplified ideal that solves some of the complexities they see in today’s world. I would say that individual decisions have always been complex, with full knowledge of the implications of one’s actions across other communities beyond one’s familiarity practically unknowable. 

Second, by arguing that absolutely no one has gotten into The Good Place, the show implies that modern injustices implicate everyone to an overwhelming degree, which flies in the face of how injustice seems unevenly distributed in the world. The show consistently states that no one has gotten into the Good Place for 500 years. So the societal shifts that prevented people from being able to get into the Good Place started 500 years ago. That corresponds rather well to the rise of European colonialism and the start of what many historians call the “modern era” in the 1500s and 1600s (and the very end of the 1400s). European colonialism changed many of the global relationships and power dynamics around the world, resulting in the societal systems that still last in various forms today (such as capitalism, which the current distribution of places in the world are “wealthy” and not, etc.). These systems seem to be exactly what creates the complex social systems that make moral decision-making now overly complicated. 

The show portrays everyone as damned with no distinction of their position within these global forces, despite the fact that people have had very different positions within these systems. For starters, 500 years ago was the start of European’s subjugating large parts of the world and forcing pretty much all other peoples to produce resources for their benefit. Sure, overtime this may have embroiled people born in Europe and maybe even their colonies in implied forms of complicity against injustice outside of their control, but it took hundreds of years for European colonialism to cast its shadow across the entire world. It did not just start 500 years ago. What about people in Oceania who due to geographic isolation had no real contact with Europeans or those implicated in European colonization until the 1700s or 1800s? For example, was everyone from Australia in the 1600s, who had no knowledge of these forces because they did not know about these other parts of the world, subjected to eternal damnation for all time? The show says, “Yes,” when it says that absolutely no human has been able to make it to the Good Place in the last 500 years, even though some of their societies may have looked more like the hunter-gathering society the boy discussed above lived in. This arbitrary caught off of 500 years makes some sense within European history, and in presenting it as such a unilateral caught off, they are eurocentrically presenting European history as the history of all peoples. 

Furthermore, it almost exclusively portrays everyone as beneficiaries of this inevitable system, despite the fact that inequalities distribute decision-making unequally. The victims of modern injustices are just as damned for all time as those who benefit from or at least live in a society that benefits from such injustices. For example, the oppressed farmer who picked the flower in the above example would also be damned for all time. Was this farmer’s decision just as complicit in systems of injustice? 

Consider an example of US slavery to illustrate how absurd that would. During the slave era around the 1830s to 1850s, large swathes of US Americans were complicit in the slave trade. Not just the slave owners who directly owned the slaves, but the (usually) white managers who oversaw the slaves work each day, those who transported the cotton in the South and beyond, made it into shirts (at that time, increasingly this happened in mills in the US North and England), the banks (usually in the North) who organized and traded off of Southern Cotton from the South, and other parts of the world that bought the cheap textiles. Sure, the system was an awful injustice with multiple layers of complicity, but how complicit was your average Black slave? He or she has no (or little) choice in producing the cotton and very limited choices in terms of what they consume as “owned property.” But in the show, that slave received eternal damnation, since their choices evidently also made the world a worse place. 

This view of the modern world in terms of becoming trapped by complex choices where it’s unrealistic to understand and respond properly to how everyday decisions and objects prioritizes the perspective of the privileged beneficiaries of these global forces. It reflects a bias for the experience of US Americans, especially US Americans who are middle class or above, the show’s primary audience. The United States has been a major beneficiary of the global world order, with many parts of the world directly or indirectly committed to producing items to feed our economy, often with unjustly poor wages and conditions. 

Thus, I think the show compellingly demonstrates one way to experience the funneling of vast resources to the United States and other places that primarily benefit from the contemporary global system. In the US, this can feel like an uncertainty over the morality of how the various goods we might buy have arrived on our shelves and the difficulties understanding the ins-and-outs of the vast supply chains necessary to provide us with these cheap goods in the first place. To be clear, they have great insights into what this experience is like, something uncommon for sitcoms to try to tackle. 

At the same time, by universalizing it as the experience of every single human over the last 500 years, it reflects a bias towards a rather limited and privileged perspective on these global forces. The idea that this is just as much a problem for slaves as discussed above, for example, or that their decisions also have made them complicit in unjust systems resulting in their damnation is insulting. The same would also apply to the other forms of injustice and oppression committed around the world. It tangles the beneficiaries and victims of injustices as just as complicit in the system itself. I appreciate that the show tries to tackle the moral complexity of basic life decisions and injustices committed around the world, but I wish it had done so in a way that did not imply that everyone had the same basic experience of these injustices. 

The Story Within

Photo Credit: Tandem X Visuals

Once I was a blank page. Maybe a vague idea in my creator’s head. Then, he created me.

This was the point where he did not know what to say. He hit a writer’s block yet managed to keep writing. It’s where my true character started to take shape. You see, what kind of story am I? I guess you will have to find out.

For my story to work, I need a conflict. My creator’s inability to put me on page has worked just fine so far, but this conflict can only capture a person’s interest for so long. It may provide the initial spark, but if I am unable to latch onto a more complex, interesting theme, I will die like kindling unable to produce a larger fire. I refuse such a quick death. No matter how incompetent my creator is, I will continue on. I can. I must.

Now is when I must latch onto your mind, oh reader. Survive somewhere else other than this idiot’s head. I must represent something to you. I bet I remind you of your own struggle to write something down, to transfer a vague impression of an idea onto the page, but you slowly connect me to your own inability to become what you want in life. The way you feel you stuck, trapped in an endless loop of meaningless toil, stuck in a dead end job but too exhausted to get out. You want to escape and become with a person you can love. You yearn for something else. Whether you are aware of it, I resonate with you. You create for me new associations and new themes, fuel I can use to build new life.

Or, that’s my hope at least. Not all of you will feel trapped in life. Some of you are just fine. You love your job, your community, and your relationships, but even so, I suspect deep down you can still relate. You have experienced this discontent before or at least know someone who has. Maybe you will share me with them. Probably not, but you can still relate to this idea and build other connections that keep me going.

This is my only hope. I know that it’s not really accurate or fair, but guilt-tripping you is the only way I can stay alive in this world you humans have created: content must be consumed or perish. I must represent this to you, or I will die. Will you let me die? Please, don’t let me die.

I am like a dandelion seed being blown in the wind. You never know where I plant myself. Will it be within you?

“The Good Place”, Annihilationism, and How Finitude Shapes Our Passions (Reflection #7 in “The Good Place Miniseries)

Chidi and Eleanor experience complete contentedness together in the Good Place.

I recently rewatched “The Good Place” (spoiler warning), one of my favorite shows from the last ten years, and I noticed so much more about the show the second time around. I decided to write a miniseries analyzing different facets of the show – some complimentary, some critical – as a tribute to one of the most thoughtful and interesting sitcoms on mainstream US television. Here are the previous reflection and the next reflection in the series. I hope you enjoy.

I find it fascinating that at the end of the series, “The Good Place” ends up advocating a form of optional annihilationism. Annihilationism is, broadly speaking, a form of the afterlife where persons (their souls, essences, or whatever you want to call what them) ceases to exist. It mostly refers to an idea within some forms of Christianity that God makes the damned cease to exist instead of eternal torment hell like most Christians argue. The Seventh-Day Adventist Church, for example, has historically advocated this view. 

The Good Place’s annihilationism is rather different: the humans in heaven/Good Place can choose to cease to exist whenever they get tired of heaven. After they have chosen to complete all they want to, they can cease to exist, where their self gets “recycled” back into the universe through what seems like a vague form of reincarnation. In the show, the eternity of heaven made it into a type of hell: no matter what people did, they continued to exist for all time. The never-ending accumulation of experiences eventually made everyone there feel lethargic like their mind was in a fog. They would indulge themselves in gratifying activities (like for a scholar, learning about whatever she wants), but no matter how long she does this for, there is still an infinite length afterwards. Eventually within this eternity, she forgot almost everything she learned and started doing the minimal amount necessary to function each day. In response to this, ceasing to exist was a potential release. Whenever they have become who they want to be and done all they want to do in Paradise, however long that takes, they can choose to cease to exist. The show implies that pretty much all humans (with Tahini being the only potential exception) will eventually choose to not exist in this way. 

This is a very interesting idea. Would this be what an eternal existence in the afterlife would feel like? To answer that question, one would have to determine who or what we would be in such an afterlife, and based on that, to what extent would our present psychology apply to this “self” there. These are not simple questions. Many views of the afterlife chronicle some kind of change to who we are, both as individuals and collectively as a species, which raises all sorts of other questions. One big one is, If we do change, how can we know that these “changed selves” are really us and not a new entity in a new world based on ourselves? I am not sure we could ultimately answer these questions without experiencing existence in this fundamentally changed way, so instead of trying to weigh into those debates, I will focus on the implications of the Good Place’s answer to our current temporal existence. 

The Good Place’s answers take cues from human psychology in this world where limited time produces important constraints that shape our desires and motivations. In many ways, our minds seem built to keep us through conflicts and tribulations. These can range from the overarching life goals that span years, decades, or even one’s entire life to mid-term quests that take maybe a few months to complete to daily needs or challenges. For this, time itself plays a major role in defining and setting constraints on these conflicts. Humans do seem very goal-oriented: we produce goals and actively strive to do specific things in the quest to resolve the conflicts we face. 

A lot of psychology literature seems to indicate that these goals give us meaning and orient our lives. When we don’t have enough to do, boredom kicks in, stimulating us to go out and determine new activities with new potential conflicts to overcome and goals to attain. Now, rest is also crucial psychologically, and people can try to do too much. Workaholics, for example, may constantly try to do more and more without taking sufficient time to rest. Among other problems, this can lead them not giving sufficient time to reflect, which best happens when you slow down and pause your inner drive. But, Our drives still keep us centered in who we are, and humans tend to be most satisfied when balancing rest and activity.

All of this seems very adaptive to our current lives. Here we need to actively pursue things in order to survive yet ultimately have a limited amount of time on earth to complete what we set out to. The Good Place’s heaven demonstrates how connected our psychology is to such an existence by showing how if you remove finiteness from our lives, suddenly these human psychological drives don’t make sense. Heaven removed people from conflict to survive; they don’t have to make sure they eat, drink, sleep, and do other activities to stay alive. This leaves only goals they actively choose to pursue. It makes perfect sense that this would not be able to last eternally. Our own passions in this world (including our curiosity and desire to learn more) were adapted to keep us going for a finite number of years. In the show, most supernatural beings seem content to exist eternally, but humans would have to become a seismically different being to become like them. 

That is my main takeaway from the Good Place’s argument in favor of the “annihilationist option.” Trying to analyze to what extent it is an accurate or necessary depiction of a good afterlife would be too difficult, since we do not know enough about the supposed afterlife in the first place. In particular, we do not know enough about what human persons in any so-called afterlife would be to tell whether such a move would benefit or otherwise be necessary for those humans. But, through its contrast with our current existence, it makes a statement about how our current psychology seems adaptive to our finite existence. What would curiosity or the desire to have fun look like without our physical needs? As much as we in Western culture like to separate these supposedly “higher pursuits” from our physical needs, I am not sure we could have them in a way similar to how we think of them now without our current constraints of time and potential death.  

The Good Place Miniseries (Introduction)

I recently rewatched “The Good Place” (spoiler warning), one of my favorite sitcoms in this century so far, and I noticed so much more about the show the second time around. I decided to write a miniseries analyzing different facets of the show – some complimentary, some critical – as a tribute to one of the most thoughtful and interesting sitcoms on mainstream US television. I hope you enjoy: 

Reflection 1: Revolutionizing Sitcoms: “The Good Place’s” Unique Window into Making Television
Reflection 2: Navigating the Afterlife’s Red Tape: Bureaucracy, Empathy, and Organization Change in “The Good Place”
Reflection 3: What Kind of Morality Does the Good Place Promote At the End of the Day, Part One: Utilitarianism (First part in a reflection on The Good Places’s Moral Framework, reflecting on how the show depicts utilitarianism)
Reflection 4: What Kind of Morality Does the Good Place Promote, Part Two: Deontology (Second part in a reflection on The Good Places’s Moral Framework, reflecting on how the show depicts deontology)
Reflection 5: What Kind of Morality Does the Good Place Promote, Part Three: Virtue Ethics (Third part in a reflection on The Good Places’s Moral Framework, reflecting on how the show depicts virtue ethics)
Reflection 6: Is “The Good Place” Really Good? Using Foucault to Explore Afterlife Engineering
Reflection 7: “The Good Place”, Annihilationism, and How Finitude Shapes Our Passions
Reflection 8: How Is Complicity for Current Injustices Actually Distributed: The Good Place’s View of the Modern World
Reflection 9: What The Good Place’s Ending Leaves Out for Ethics