Day Thirteen Cont'd: Countdown

The last leg of a 5k race is the most taxing, the last five minutes, when playing soccer, push you to your limit, and the last 54 minutes of even a meager 24-hour fast seem to be the hardest.

When something we want (whether it is to stop running, to stop playing, or to start eating), is just around the corner, our desires seem to amp up, and the temptation to cheat is magnified. "What if I took it easy for the last 400 meters" "What are the odds that if I don't run back to help on defense we'll lose the game?" "Well, what is one hour in the scope of twenty-four?"

And yet, in terms of resolve, this last stretch is still important. When you embark on a task, whether it be a race, a game, or a fast, you are making a contract with yourself. In the case of this fast, the contract is that between 2PM and 2PM, I will not eat any food. If I cheat, even if the task is nearly complete, I have broken that contract, and in a purely binary sense, I have failed.

Of course, there are various degrees of failure, and if I fail only an hour away from the goal, then this is but a mild failure. Yet, it is a failure in the sense that I broke the contract that I had made. In the future, I am less likely to believe that I do have the resolve to meet my goals, and more likely to repeat the tempting sin of cheating.

And as I write this post, I am counting down the minutes, for this fast has become the centerpoint of this day. I went on a run earlier, which may have been a bad idea, because after I was finished, my hunger rose within me, clammoring to be satiated. Each minute that passes brings me closer to the goal, and yet also reminds me that the goal is that much closer, intensifying the anticipation of a glorious meal (a large omelette).

It's as if time slows down while we endure physical pain, and flys by when engaging in some mind-numbing activity (a simple comedic movie). This reminds me of a quote in Catch-22, where one of the characters (Yossarian's friend, I believe), makes himself miserable at all times in order to lengthen his subjective perception of his life.

While it seems silly, I believe I am actively doing the same thing; I am slightly miserable in the physical sense presently not to make my life feel longer, but to be able to eventually accomplish my loftiest goals.

"Anything worthwhile is never easy" is a common cliche, but there is truth behind those words: In order to meet ambitious goals, we must endure short-term pain. Just like Yossarian's friend, I find myself directly engaging unpleasentry in the short-term. I am far from a masochist, but I am beginning to realize that the essence of what makes us human is our ability to buck our genetic programming.

Let me step back for a moment and describe the problem with the world today: Morality in people has not progressed as quickly as our technology. People still do horrendous things such as murder, and murder on enormous scale: Genocide. Its hard to say that people in general, are any more moral than they were one hundred years ago. We still lie, cheat, steal, kill, covet, and rob.

In contrast, technology has progressed incredibly over the last one hundred years: We have amazing computers, robots, more efficient modes of transportation, and we can harness the amazing power of the atom.
In many ways, technology has made our lives better: We live better than kings of ancient did, food is plentiful in some countries, and inventions have allowed our lives to become easier (think cell phones, vacuum cleaners, dish washers etc.).

However, because technology has progressed, while morality has but stagnated, technology often allows for more efficient immorality. On the less insidious scale there are 419 scammers, who exploit the law of averages (only one in one million people need be suckers) in order to take money from unsuspecting elderly. On the more insidious scale, Hitler used technology to nearly exterminate an entire race. On perhaps the most insidious scale, the technology exists for us to destroy all of humanity through nuclear weapons; these weapons lie in the hands of world leaders, who as a whole, are no more moral than world leaders one hundred years ago.

Technological progress, in general, is good; however, it seems as if we are not yet ready for technological progress morally speaking. Atomic bombs should not exist, because ideally, when we discovered the power of the atom we should have been of moral fiber enough to never produce such terrible devestating weapons.

So, the question is, what can be done to reinvigorate moral progress? This is surely a difficult question, but one of paramount importance. Without it, life on Earth will continue to be terrible for many, and at some point, our technology may destroy us. With it, life could be a paradise.

Imagine if all of us had the moral fortitude of Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King, or Ghandi. The world would be a completely different place than it is now. For these people, self-lessness and self-discipline were virtues; riches and power held no pull. We need to transform our perception so that we all strive to moral perfection, not to keep up with the Jonses, not to accumulate wealth and power at the expense of others.

Of course, this is easier said than done. This task may in fact be impossible. Our current culture obsesses over celebrities, many of whom are completely immoral and have not earned their wealth in any meaningful way. By idolizing the celebrity lifestyle, children orient their moral compasses in terrible ways. In order to be important, money and respect must be acquired, by whatever means necessary.

What if instead of celebrities, we idolized those people of true moral worth, the Mother Theresas, the Martin Luther Kings, the Ghandis? What if instead of money and power, we idolized selflessness and self-control? Maybe not this generation, but over time, culture would change.

Human beings are the only animals that can overcome their genetic programming: Though men wish to procreate wildly, we have the ability to choose not to, though men may have an innate drive to behave selfishly and to prize their happiness over the happiness of all other men, they may choose to act in a way that will benefit others. It is this ability to choose that makes us human, that separates us from other animals.

My philosophy is still evolving, but yet I think that the only way we can progress morally is if from an early age, children are taught to prize self-discipline, to idolize not basketball player, but those people who have sacrificed their own wealth and time to accomplish beautiful goals that benefit many.

Sadly, I am at a stopping point in my writing, but the clock reads but 1:40. The minutes crawl in defiance of my stomach. As I strive to become more human by rebelling against my primitive instincts, I dream of a more perfect world in which self-discipline was the only religion.