Answer:
Leonard Cohen, adulterers in Aceh, and Malcolm Casadaban.
Question: Who by fire? Who by stoning? Who by plague?
While I’m
old enough to remember Johnny Carson’s “Karnak the Magnificent” routine (see this on YouTube), some of you may not be. But bear
with me.
“And who by fire//who by water//who
in the sunshine//who in the nighttime…”
These
Leonard Cohen lyrics
are drawn in part from a Hebrew prayer called the U’netaneh Tokef,
which is a central part of the liturgy of the Jewish High Holidays – Rosh
Hashanah (the New Year) and Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement) – currently being
observed by Jews around the world.
Cohen’s sly lyrics add a modern twist on the original prayer, which
includes such “Life of Brian” versions of death as stoning, plague, sword,
beast, strangling, and others.
“who by high ordeal//who by common
trial…”
But Cohen’s
update, however trenchant, is alas not as necessary as we might think, for some
of the old stuff is still around. A law –
recently passed – in the Indonesian province of Aceh, a devoutly Muslim section
of the world’s most populous Muslim country, imposes lashings and imprisonment
for homosexuality and penalties ranging from lashings to death by stoning for
adultery. (And as
revealed in a recent article
in The Economist, the United States
may be leading the way in other kinds of excessive punishment for sex crimes.)
“who by avalanche//who by powder//who
by his greed//who by his hunger…”
On the other
hand, there are weird contemporary twists on some of the ancient themes in
which even Cohen might not find the poesy:
News media are reporting that Malcolm Casadaban, a researcher at the
University of Chicago who died earlier this month, may have succumbed to plague. Casadaban had been working on the genetics of
Yersinia pestis, the bacterium that
causes Black Plague. According to the AP wire story
published by AOL, Casadaban was interested in the genetics of particularly
aggressive pathogens, but he may have been vulnerable to the weakened strain of
Y. pestis with which he was working
because of an underlying metabolic disorder.
“And who by brave assent//who by
accident…”
Such is the
diversity of the world we live in, culturally and temporally. The globe spins and circles as one, but individuals
and cultures move into the future with different strides and dispositions. Even as only some of the most intrepid
travelers are willing to take a hindward glance for wisdom or precedent, others
insist that, despite its new scenery, the path forward only circles back on
what we have already been taught. And as
if on a group hike through the woods, no one wants to be forced into the pace
or destination of any particular hiker.
I want to hurry to the waterfall, and you want to linger over the Indian
pipe (Monotropa uniflora). Yet we can’t agree, like Bruce Springsteen’s affianced lovers
that “I’ll wait for you//And should I fall behind//Wait for me.”
“who in solitude//who in this
mirror…”
If we can’t
wait for each other, then can we at least design the itinerary to accommodate both
hurrying and lingering, both visions of progress and cycles of
regeneration?
On Yom
Kippur, the Sabbath of Sabbaths, many Jews cease all forms of work and focus
their minds and spirits by fasting.
While this is the most extreme of my personal religious observance, I
find the denial of work, food and some of the “conveniences” of modernity like
e-mail that move between work and non-work a useful reflection on this question
of design. It is reminiscent of Langdon
Winner’s suggestion in his 1977 book Autonomous
Technology that we engage in what he called
“epistemological Luddism” – the studied, self-conscious dismantling of a
technology in thought in order to understand and recover the role of human
agency. For the Day of Atonement, at
least, I become a Luddite with respect to my Blackberry.
“who in mortal chains//who in power…”
I can turn
off my Blackberry for a holy day. I can
ride public transportation. I can buy
organic produce. But I can’t turn off
the 3G network that feeds everyone else’s Blackberry. I can’t not breathe diesel exhaust. And I can’t reconstruct the unsustainable agricultural
system of pesticides, fertilizers, hormones, antibiotics and monocultures. Individuals might be able to opt out of
certain technologies locally, or – as the Amish
– in small groups for some sets of technologies. But we currently do an exceptionally poor job
of creating the paths and places in which people with different strides into
the future and dispositions toward it can move at a comfortable pace – or at no
pace at all. There are too many systemic
risks, too many spill-overs, and not enough protected spaces.
“and who shall I say is calling?”
Many of our
emerging technologies – with visions of wireless power, wearable networks, and
implantable improvements – promise users an independent, off-the-grid
experience without the consequences of being a frail, disconnected being. Such users recognize the same truths as epistemological
Luddites, but go about addressing them in an altogether different way. A sense of humility should encourage us
toward plural approaches to these questions of technological choice, and a
commitment to pluralism should help us create the fair diversity of paths and
places.
About the author: David H. Guston is co-director of CSPO, director of CNS-ASU and a professor of
political science.
