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Project Vision 21

Transforming lives, renewing minds, cocreating the future


16 years      OF Archives

WEEKLY COMMENTARY(AUDIO, 3 MIN.)

DISCLAIMER

The commentaries we share here are merely our thoughts and reflections at the time of their writing. They are never our final word about any topic, nor they necessarily guide our professional work. 

 

Artificial intelligence does not seek the truth… and it seems that neither do we

In a recent interview, philosopher Carissa Véliz expressed that artificial intelligence “does not seek the truth”, explaining that AI is “a generator of statistical responses” and, as a consequence, generates “verisimilitude”, that is, something credible, acceptable and even realistic, but without consideration of the truth.

Véliz, Mexican-Spanish and professor at the Institute of AI Ethics at the University of Oxford, stated that AI “is not trained to think nor, therefore, to know its own limits of knowledge”, which causes deep concern because many people accept the information created by AI without worrying about whether it is true or false.

Obviously, in the current context, the creation of fake news and fake images has become so common that, rather than a problem, it is already considered something that is part of everyday life and that we hope will not happen to us when we browse the Internet or social networks, in the same way that we go out to drive despite traffic accidents.

But the uncritical acceptance of plausibility without questioning its truthfulness was not born in the 21st century, although new technologies have taken this attitude to a historically unprecedented level, causing a situation in which “everything is the same, nothing is better,” as the tango Cambalache said, emphasizing that “an ignoramus is the same as a great professor.”

It is true that in our time we always have a screen in front of us telling us what to think and, more importantly, what not to think. But, from a certain perspective, this attachment to the plausible, the illusory, the merely apparent is at least as old as our Western culture, since separating illusion from reality was one of the first tasks to which philosophy dedicated itself a little more than two and a half millennia ago.

Throughout history, there are many examples of the human inability to distinguish between fiction and reality and, simultaneously, to cling to fiction, leaving aside all truth. In fact, Heraclitus already lamented that human beings live “asleep,” without even becoming aware of their own lives.

Another example: when the Lumière brothers presented the short film “The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat Station” in 1895, some audience members, unaccustomed to seeing realistic moving images, panicked at the thought that the train on the screen would run them over in real life.

And we cannot forget October 30, 1938, when Orson Wells’ dramatization of The War of the Worlds caused, due to its verisimilitude, panic among listeners who really believed that Martians were invading New Jersey.

Ultimately, if AI prefers verisimilitude over truth, it is because AI is our own creation, reflecting very well our growing indifference to “truth,” to the point that we put it in quotation marks to relativize it as part of our hypernarcissism.

Beyond the First Step: Lao Tzu’s Teaching on the Path and Life’s Journey

The well-known thought by Lao Tzu, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step” (Tao Te Ching, Chapter 64), is often seen as a call to overcome “analysis paralysis” and to decide to act as a way to start the process of reaching a goal or completing a project. But, as with all expressions of wisdom, it’s not only about that.

In this teaching, Lao Tzu emphasizes simplicity, humility, and the importance of beginning with small, deliberate actions to achieve great things, as if saying that even the longest and most challenging tasks have a starting point and that every step, however small, is essential to a larger journey.

At the same time, upon reflection, we realize that this teaching extends far beyond a simple and almost obvious piece of advice. It actually leads us to question whether the journey or path has a meaning, a purpose, or a direction that can be known in advance; if the path is permanent and moves in the right direction; and if each step really brings us forward.

However, neither the first interpretation (motivational self-help) nor the second (a calculating mindset focused on results) aligns with the idea Lao Tzu presents; they merely reveal our way of thinking and acting in a world steeped in technoscience and hyper-commercialization, where everything is reduced (as Byung-Chul Han says) to “projects” and “creativity.”

Let’s look at it this way: in classical physics (Newton), you can calculate the direction and speed of a billiard ball if it’s struck in a certain way, with a certain force, and from a certain angle. But in that context, neither the ball, the pool table, nor the cue stick change after the strike. In contrast, in the context of life, everything changes all the time.

What would happen if, with each strike, the billiard balls changed size or color, or the table changed dimensions and new pockets appeared, or the cue stick grew longer or shorter? If that happened, there would be no way to calculate in advance the outcome of striking a ball. And that is what happens in life: you cannot calculate it in advance.

This is why we must recognize that at the heart of Lao Tzu’s teachings is the notion that the Dao, or the Way, can be understood as an organic and dynamic presence, not as a strictly defined and controlled path. (Perhaps it is worth remembering that the early Christians referred to themselves as “those of the Way.”)

From this Taoist perspective, we might suggest that the path is already present, even if it is not immediately visible, and that it is not necessary to fully understand or control the Dao before embarking on the journey.

Creation, in Taoist sense, is something that happens in the moment, not something you can fully project or plan for. In essence, it’s not about rigid plans or calculations, but rather about opening ourselves to the experience, knowing that the path emerges as we move forward.

Existential uncertainty and search for meaning in the postmodern world

The concept of “divided mind” is so old in Western culture that Heraclitus already spoke about this topic two and a half millennia ago, stating at the beginning of his book that many of us, although awake, live asleep. In this postmodern 21st century, that concept has become significantly relevant amid the complexities of modern life.

Let's be honest: we suffer from such information overload that we no longer know what to believe and, therefore, we live in a constant state of cognitive dissonance and epistemological ambiguity. We try unsuccessfully to reconcile conflicting perspectives, beliefs and values ​​with each other, thus exacerbating the feeling of a divided mind.

At the same time, technological advances (e.g., social media) have fragmented our attention. The omnipresence of technology (there is always a screen in front of our eyes), while offering numerous benefits, has also contributed to a laziness of thinking, disguised as “multitasking” that makes it difficult for us to cultivate a sense of inner peace and concentration.

Currently, societies around the world are experiencing increasing polarization, with deepening divisions along political, ideological and cultural lines. This social fragmentation reflects, sharpens and amplifies the feeling of a divided mind within individuals, generating undeniable feelings of alienation, anxiety and constant conflict.

Therefore, our existence becomes uncertain and the need to find meaning and direction for our lives is so great that we look for them in the most unusual and least effective places. In fact, this existential search can lead us to even deeper internal conflicts as we navigate between various perspectives on our true place in the world.

And all of this happens in this postmodern era, characterized by the questioning of traditional belief systems and a search for meaning in a chaotic, unpredictable, ambiguous and uncertain world.

These genuine existential concerns can lead to a sense of meaninglessness or an acceptance that our existence may have no inherent purpose or meaning. The result is a divided mind, that is, a state of internal conflict caused by the presence of negativity and trauma stored in the personal subconscious mind.

But the divided mind goes beyond a psychological factor. In fact, it is a philosophical and metaphysical dimension that is rarely talked about and, when it is, it is generally superficial by leaving aside topics such as the inevitability of death, the non-delegable responsibility of each person to build his own world and the loneliness of the human condition in a universe perceived as indifferent.

Already in ancient times an itinerant teacher taught that “no city or house divided against itself will prevail.” Unfortunately for us, we have transformed that and other expressions of wisdom into dogmas and creeds and, even worse, into tools of division and discrimination to the point of separating us from ourselves.

Perhaps it is time to recover ancient wisdom and reactivate ancestral practices, a process that begins by assuming each of us has wisdom of their own, as Heraclitus warned 2500 years ago. Then, a new future will emerge.

We need to recover our sense of community of individuals to be free together

Recently, on the wall of a restaurant, I read this famous phrase by the Turkish poet Nâzım Hikmet (1902-1963): “Live like a solitary and free tree, like a forest in brotherhood.” As with good poets, imagination and metaphor reveal an important, but largely forgotten, philosophical truth: we are who we are by being in community.

With his words, Hikmet invites us to consider and contemplate that juxtaposition of being a tree in a forest, of being one and many, of being-there by being-with, of being free in the interconnection with freedom and the life of others. others.

The solitary tree represents autonomy and personal self-sufficiency (of which, for example, Ralph Waldo Emerson spoke). At the same time, the forest symbolizes the strength and resilience that only emerges from communal ties and mutual support and respect.

This overlap between “tree” and “human being” has a long history. In fact, it already appears in the Hebrew scriptures in the story of Eden and, later, in Psalms, where the righteous person is compared to “a tree planted by streams of water.”

In the Greco-Roman context, Ovid, in his Metamorphoses, shares the story of Philemon and his wife Baucis, who are rewarded for their hospitality (that is, kindness to strangers) by Zeus and Hermes (who had visited them in disguise). After serving many years as guardians of a temple to the gods, when Philemon and Baucis die they transform into intertwined trees (an oak and a linden), thus remaining united, but distinguished, for all eternity.

Closer in time, in “Piedra de Sol” (1957), Octavio Paz presents at the beginning and at the end of the poem a “crystal willow” that, without ceasing to be a “well-planted but dancing tree,” transforms into a flowing river, indicating the presence of a continuous movement that, due to its unifying force, inevitably recalls Heraclitus.

Without a doubt, Paz evokes symbols and myths that dramatize our belonging to an eternal multidimensional cycle of life whose universal and cosmic dimensions are forgotten or devalued (read: commercialized) in our time.

Let's go back to Hikmet, who emphasizes that fundamental desire to be free in the sense of seeking and following our own path in life without having to limit our lives to certain social norms or external pressures. But that desire is contextualized in another human desire: that of belonging to a community and sharing a life experience.

Seeking to be oneself requires, at the same time, recognizing that we are part of a human and non-human ecosystem with which we are inextricably connected. The desire for individual autonomy is counterbalanced by the recognition of shared community responsibility.

As the English philosopher Tim Freke proposes, we are “universal individuals” or “unividuals,” to use his neologism. In other words, to become individuals we must expand our consciousness to incorporate the deeper way of living connected to past and future evolution.

In short, we are the tree and the forest. Let us become aware of brotherhood both at the community and universal level.

Addictive attachment to the present disconnects us from the past and creates fear of the future

Over the last few decades, the idea of ​​“now” as the only reference point in our lives has been popularized almost to death, an idea that, although attractive, is too often devalued and distorted in such a way that it is presented as disconnecting. of a past that has already passed and not worry about a future that has not yet arrived.

However, this interpretation of “now” as an ephemeral moment of total carelessness and even irresponsibility does not consider that neither the past has already passed nor the future has arrived, nor, much less, does it consider that the “now” in What must be present is an extended “now” that consciously includes both the past and the future.

As philosopher Tim Freke says, the past does not pass, but rather “stacks up” and, therefore, each new element (each experience, each thought, each memory) that is added to that conglomerate of the past changes the entire past. After all, we can only access the past from the present and, as a result, the past is constantly changing.

And as MIT's Dr. Otto Scharmer teaches, the future does not arrive but emerges. In some ways, the future is always already there as a potential adjacent reality that we only have access to when we expand our consciousness to include it. In other words, the future is not a chronological event (the “tomorrow”), but rather an expanded consciousness.

Therefore, the idea of ​​being totally present in the present (sometimes known as mindfulness), far from being a call to a life unconcerned by previous or subsequent actions or circumstances, is, in fact, a call to reach such level of presence that synoptically includes mutually interconnected perceptions of the past, present and future.

This is not something that is learned by watching videos, much less through mere words. As we said before, it is a convocation, a call together (literally) to an experience. Nobody learns to swim by watching swimming videos. Nobody understands what love is by reading the definition of “love” in the dictionary.

In this time of constant, profound, unresolved, unexpected and irreversible changes that anticipate the arrival of a new stage in human history, locking oneself in an ephemeral “now” (represented in the jump from one message to another on social networks) ) is an irresponsible defense mechanism against the responsibility that is required to co-create the new future and, therefore, to transform the past.

Being present in the present does not mean, as is commonly believed, submitting to banality, superficiality and triviality. On the contrary, being present in the present means, paradoxically, distancing oneself from that present in order to be able to see and understand it from both the past and the future, that is, from a broad perspective that allows us to examine and challenge the assumptions and underlying structures that shape the present.

Being committed to the present does not mean disconnecting from or ignoring the present. Rather, it refers to mindful awareness leading to deeper insights.

Just because you don’t understand me doesn’t mean I don’t know what I am doing

Recently, an organization asked for my help with a community project that involved conducting a certain number of interviews with a group that had no prior contact with the organization. I implemented my strategy, and within a few hours, I surpassed the minimum number of interviews they had requested. That’s when the problems began.

The conclusion reached by the leaders who hired me was that I must have cheated or committed some kind of fraud or deception because, as they told me, "there was no way" to achieve the result I had, given that they had tried themselves and couldn’t get a single response.

Naturally, they had no interest in hearing about my decades of experience in community work, my background in the humanities—including education and languages—or my work on community outreach projects in various countries. The only thing that concerned them was that if they couldn’t do it and I could, then I must be doing something wrong.

Another example: Someone called me, having been referred by someone else, saying they urgently needed my translation services. Since it was a short document, I completed the translation and sent it over. A week later, the same person called again to ask when I would be sending the text. I told them I had already sent it a week ago and resent it to them.

A few days later, I received another call—this time to inform me that they wouldn’t be paying me because, after back-translating from Spanish to English using an automatic translator (since they didn’t speak Spanish), the result didn’t match the original text they had sent me. There was no way to explain to them that translation is not about swapping words from one language to another.

These are examples of people who, due to their arrogance and lack of intellectual humility, believe that if they don’t know something or can’t do something, then no one else can either—or if someone else manages to do it, they must be cheating or don’t really know what they’re doing. Arrogant ignorance is one of the great ills of our time, though it is by no means new.

The ancient myth of Procrustes teaches us that there have always been people unable to tolerate any divergence from what they considered "normal," seeing themselves as the "measure of all things." I wonder how much more damage Procrustes would have caused if he had had access to social media.

We might also think of the unfortunate prisoners in Plato’s famous Allegory of the Cave, who believed that the reality within their reach was the entirety of reality.

Or consider the case (recounted by Dr. Otto Scharmer) of U.S. automotive executives who visited automated car factories in Japan and thought they were being deceived because there was no noise, no people, and no inventory in those factories.

As theologian and philosopher Arturo Bravo Retamal aptly said, every Procrustes is "the antithesis of dialogue."

Forging new paths: from a poem by Antonio Machado to commercial spacewalks

As Antonio Machado  says in his well-known poem, "Wayfarer, there is no way, / the path is made by walking," emphasizing that " Wayfarer, there is no way, / only wake-trails in the sea." But there is no doubt that some travelers intentionally undo the path they’ve walked so that no one else can follow.

Recently, on Mount Shavano in southern Colorado, at an elevation of just over 4,300 meters, a group of 15 coworkers reached the summit, but only 14 descended, erasing the trail markers as they went down. Without those markers, the abandoned man could not find the path and was forced to spend a night outdoors, enduring low temperatures and strong winds. He was located by his cell phone, rescued the next day, and needed medical attention.

Paradoxically, the climb was intended to strengthen relationships among the group members. Yet, apparently, no one thought that by erasing the trail, they were endangering the health and perhaps the life of another person. Or perhaps they did think about it.

Machado’s poem seems to suggest that there is no predetermined path to follow and that the path unfolds in each moment of the unrepeatable process of living. One could even interpret it as an invitation to reject pre-established norms and ideologies and to take responsibility for our own lives, but not in a selfish or narcissistic way.

On the contrary, in this postmodern, metamodern, anthropocenic world—or however you choose to label it—marked by constant and cataclysmic changes, where we build our identity based on separating ourselves from others and from the universe, we become so vulnerably self-protective that we intentionally erase paths and close doors for others.

Building paths and leaving trails in the sea is an act of openness to new possibilities, of living in rhythm with life itself, in a perpetual act of co-creation that renews our own identity and reconnects us with others, with the universe, and with ourselves within a new horizon of existence for which we are unprepared and for which no preparation is possible.

At the same time, we must be grateful to those travelers who open new paths and leave them open for others to find their own ways, like the recent spacewalk by the Polaris Dawn mission crew, the first spacewalk conducted by a private company.

In this case, they are trails in space that forge a new future, inviting a journey of discovery and self-discovery by going beyond the well-trodden paths in our search for deeper wisdom and meaning.

This invitation is not new. Across time and cultures, the idea of the "path" (way) has been a central metaphor for human experience, whether it is seen as a spiritual journey, a philosophical reflection on existence, or an existential challenge. Machado’s poem is a "meeting point" of ancestral paths, including Heraclitus' hodós, the Tao, and the well-known teaching, "I am the way."

While many destroy paths, others actively participate in a dynamic pilgrimage along the path (way) of life.

Social media’s dangerous trivialization of discrimination and racism

Recently, for reasons known only to the unknown gods who govern the mysterious algorithms, short videos with a common theme—discrimination and racism—started appearing on my social media feed. However, the message presented in these videos, far from addressing this serious social issue, clearly aims to exacerbate it.

In every case, a variation of the same scene unfolds: Someone is discriminated against based on their appearance, physical ability, or the way they dress, and as a result, they are not allowed to enter a certain place or make a purchase. Then it’s revealed that this person is, in fact, the manager of the place, a millionaire, or someone influential and well-connected.

And therein lies the problem with these little videos: apparently, it's only wrong to discriminate against those who, because of their power, authority, or resources, can defend themselves and even impose sanctions on those who acted in a racist or discriminatory way.

In other words, according to these videos, the way to avoid discrimination is to climb a social rung above the discriminator, whether by amassing a large bank account, becoming the owner of the company, being closely related to someone powerful and recognized, or transforming into an "influencer."

However, a deeper reflection reveals that from this perspective, someone might believe that having wealth, power, or influence gives them the opportunity—and even the right—to discriminate freely against whomever they wish. And that is exactly what happens in real life, as we witness and experience almost every day.

These videos (and surely many others like them, focused on different issues), far from raising awareness of a real problem, proclaim that the reason we are discriminated against is that we haven't climbed high enough on the ladder of success for others to be forced to accept us or pay the consequences for not doing so.

Worse yet, in many cases, these videos present discrimination in the context of someone who intentionally hides or masks their true identity precisely to provoke certain reactions. And while these reactions may be repugnant and unacceptable, one must question whether deception is the best way to expose discrimination.

It must be clear, then, that these videos are nothing more than another example of not only superficial and harmful misinformation but of a profound trivialization of a serious social issue, with the sole goal of getting people to watch the videos and thus collect “likes.”

This is nothing new. In the 1960s, in her study of the banality of evil, philosopher Hannah Arendt warned of the dangers posed by those who operate within the rules of the system they belong to but who do not reflect on those rules or on the origins or consequences of their actions.

We are still the same, or perhaps even worse, because, as Arendt explains, by trivializing evil, we actively or passively contribute to the horror of evil, thereby nullifying all thought and dialogue.

From fiction to reality: the imaginal as access to new levels of reality

Less than 30 years ago (1995), the episode "Explorers" from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine featured Commander Benjamin Sisko creating a replica of an ancient spacecraft powered by solar sails. Now, NASA has announced that a new spacecraft has successfully deployed its solar sails.

Also, 30 years ago (1993), Jurassic Park focused on recreating extinct animals, specifically dinosaurs, using genetic material. In that fantasy, with the right technology and setting aside ethical considerations, various species of dinosaurs were cloned. But according to the company Colossal Biosciences, we are now close to cloning mammoths.

In both cases (and in many other examples that could be given), the situation is the same: what was only science fiction a few decades ago, presented within the framework of an hour or two of entertainment, has now become a reality. Not a possibility. Not a topic of study, but a reality.

In the case of solar sails, NASA confirmed in a press release that at 1:33 pm (Eastern US time) on August 29, the Advanced Composite Solar Sail System (ACS3) successfully deployed the new technology. A day later, Ben Lamm, CEO of Colossal Biosciences, reported that the "de-extinction" of mammoths "is closer than people think."

When what was once unimaginable has already happened, when fiction becomes real, and reality surpasses fiction, when the boundaries between fantasy and reality, between the possible and the impossible, blur—this is the moment when we should open ourselves up to and connect with the imaginal. Read carefully: we are talking about the imaginal, not the imaginary.

Henry Corbin, a French philosopher and orientalist from the last century, developed the idea of the imaginal as a central concept in the context of understanding Sufi and Iranian Islamic mysticism and philosophy.

Corbin distinguishes between the imaginary, generally associated with fantasies or inventions without reality, and the imaginal, which refers to an intermediary reality, an autonomous and objective world as real as the material or spiritual world but perceived through active imagination. Opening up to the imaginal is learning to perceive a new level of reality.

Obviously, fiction in general, and science fiction in particular, exemplifies—just as art does—that mental and emotional openness, and in many cases even spiritual, to another level of reality, or, as Corbin said, to a "mundus imaginalis," where spiritual forms and symbols acquire a concrete presence beyond reason and sensory experiences.

In this way, the absurd, the impossible, and the unthinkable cease to be mere excuses for consuming entertainment, that is, they stop being an escape from reality, to become gateways to deeper levels of that same reality through experiences that cannot be reduced to abstractions or concepts.

As we stand at the intersection of fiction and reality, it is imperative that we consciously expand our understanding and embrace the imaginal as a vital aspect of our new and expanded perception. This is not just an intellectual exercise: it is a necessary evolution of our awareness as we navigate an increasingly complex and interconnected universe.

Astropolitics and the Corporate Space Race: A Dangerous Rebirth of Colonial Ambitions

While we dedicate all our attention to new videos, all our concern to the "Likes," and all our anxiety to the results of our favorite team (in whatever sport it may be), the new space exploration seems dangerously to recreate the colonial and exploitative imperialism that has prevailed in the world for the past half-millennium.

For decades, experts in the field have warned that, beyond the undeniable scientific curiosity and the impressive advances in technoscience, the clear geopolitical ambitions of the countries participating in space exploration reveal the potential for a new era of exploitation and colonization, this time in space.

We are exporting beyond Earth the same behaviors and attitudes that have led humanity to its current precarious situation of constant conflicts on an increasingly degraded planet.

In this context, Dr. Mary-Jane Rubenstein, a philosopher specializing in science and religion at Wesleyan University, has repeatedly pointed out the undeniable parallels between the imperialism of the Modern Age (which, instead of ending, now seems to be moving beyond Earth's atmosphere) and the current tasks of space exploration.

In her book Astrotopia: The Dangerous Religion of the Corporate Space Race, Rubenstein argues that, unlike what happened between the 15th and 19th centuries, the new imperialism uses "high forms of technology," previously unimaginable, framed in a kind of "quasi-religious" rhetoric with ideas like "cosmic destiny" or "salvation of humanity."

Moreover, there is mention of a long list of "natural resources" that could be "extracted" from asteroids, and there is talk of "colonizing" the Moon or Mars, creating a "new world" there.

If anyone doubts the existence of this rhetoric, it is enough to mention that numerous movies and TV series focus precisely on presenting and propagating this vision, which resembles more the conquest by force, commerce, or religion presented by Asimov in the Foundation trilogy than the almost utopian vision of Roddenberry's Star Trek.

Be that as it may, the recent (literally) launch of corporate space exploration, aside from leaving astronauts stranded in space or taking celebrities on joyrides, raises serious questions about sidelining science in favor of profits, disputes over rights and properties in space, and new forms of injustice and exploitation.

For his part, Dr. Bleddyn E. Bowen, an expert in international relations at the University of Leicester, asserts in his book Original Sin: Power, Technology, and War in Outer Space that the space race is based on an "astropolitics" whose essential element is "the military capability to have global influence," without regard for human beings.

Bowen argues that space has been a military domain since the beginning of the Space Age. He contends that the militarization of space is not a recent development, but has been an integral part of space activities since their inception after WWII.

Taking the imperialist and colonial mindset of modernity into space is merely transporting those ideas to a new location. But, as the end of Lazarillo de Tormes (1554) says, "life never improves for those who merely change geography without changing their habits."

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