Reflexivity, Continued
...part 2 of heaven only knows how many...
In part 1 on Reflexivity, linked here in case you missed it, we looked into how signals proliferate and reflect between us and the world we inhabit. For those who missed it, as an intro I’ll give a couple more examples of how reflexivity works in the way I’m using the word.
You can see reflexivity in a situation where, for example, you don’t hear from a friend for a while and take that as a signal that this friend has written you off, so, you don’t communicate. The friend doesn’t hear from you and maybe makes the same assumption. That reflexive feedback loop of non-communication sends a signal both ways. These signals might be misinterpreted, true, but minds have been changed by these assumptions. Behaviors follow, and next thing you know, the friendship might falter or fade. Of course, in reality, one of these two friends might just be particularly busy, or ill, or overseas or something. A little outreach — a note, text message, phone call or email — might clarify things and jumpstart a friendship that has fallen into a reflexive feedback loop like this. But sometimes people feel a little hesitant, especially if they’re already feeling rejected. And then the reality of compromised relationship follows from all that.
See how odd and yet common this is? And at the same time, we often see how the reflexive dynamic can run the other way. Maybe two people’s eyes meet across the room. They light up! The fact of being seen registers on both sides. They each feel a whole-body sensation like a wave going through. Next thing you know, the two are talking. Or holding hands, maybe trading book ideas or recipes, or maybe even kissing. Love is, as the old Motown hit tells us, a game of give and take. Reflexivity.
In the last posting we also looked at the role of journalists in holding up a mirror for society to see itself more clearly, providing reflection and feedback that helps a society navigate. At least, that’s the ideal. If certain people seek to hurt the journalists whose stories they don’t like, that sends a terrible message to the rest. We took a deeper dive there because changes in a society’s ability to clearly reflect on itself have profound consequences. Same is true of “whistleblowers” — people of conscience who take it upon themselves to expose wrongdoing. Once upon a time, whistleblowers and people of conscience in general were understood to be doing something important for the collective. Accordingly, my understanding is that laws were enacted to give whistleblowers a measure of protection.
Of course, if these laws aren’t enforced and if the persecution of whistleblowers becomes commonplace, this sends a message into the reflexive dynamic much as when journalists are targeted for various kinds of abuse. The message is: “Having a conscience will come at a steep price, so, if you’re smart you’ll get rid of that. It’ll be a hindrance to you.” Of course, in true reflexive fashion, the targeting of people of conscience probably reflects the fact that, to certain folks, people of conscience themselves represent a hindrance and something that needs to be gotten rid of. Next thing you know, the conscience of a society is diminished or damaged.
The effects of this kind of thing ripple out. In the U.S. and perhaps elsewhere too, our collective failure of conscience has probably played a role in the normalization of state-sanctioned torture and assassination, and warfare. As citizens, our acquiescence in the face of such institutionalized atrocities also sends a signal. It says we’re okay with it. Either that, or we’re so dazed, stunned, frightened, dissociated and beaten down in various ways ourselves that we can’t seem to mount an effective campaign to put a stop to it.
I’m sharing all this to show some of the profound moral dimensions to reflexivity. In fact, one way to look at criminal law is that it is based on the understanding that certain types of behavior, if allowed to proliferate, can, by means of reflexivity, eventually destabilize an entire society. Over time, unchecked crime works like a giant recycling program for trauma, leading to yet more crime and other problems that follow from it. This can include everything from a petty street thug on up to “too big to jail,” high-level corruption. It’s reflexivity taking us in a direction most people don’t want to go…
…which brings us to the deeper deeper level of all this, which is that, deep down, we know all this stuff already. You’ve probably heard: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” That statement is grounded in an understanding of the reflexivity built into our world. The more modern version, “What goes around comes around,” amounts to basically the same thing.
And again, as I emphasized in the previous essay, even subtler things like our thoughts, attitudes and mental habits will feed into the reflexive dynamic and be reflected in our world and our experience of it. Stereotyping and labeling people can quite easily show up as a kind of violence. It can lead to problems, whether or not any flagrant, outward acts of discrimination or abuse take place. We know this, because we can feel it when people project on us, and we don’t like being stereotyped or labeled ourselves. Further, for those on the receiving end, projections can even be internalized over time, affecting a person’s self-image, with huge ramifications flowing outward into our shared world.
Finally, it’s not just people and human interactions that feed into reflexive dynamics. Humanity is embedded in a larger, reflexive universe. Another famous affirmation of reflexivity is Chief Seattle’s line, “Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.”
Dating back to the 1850s, this vision is so profound and so deeply true that Western science is barely starting to catch up with it. Ignoring this principle is at the root of such practices as treating soil like it’s dead and treating crop plants like production units and keeping farm animals in crowded confinement as if their misery can be discounted just because it doesn’t show up on a accountant’s bottom line. Then gosh, we eat that stuff and might feel sorta dead or, look around and get this odd feeling that we’re just a production unit. People might start feeling confined and managed like factory-farmed animals, and sense that our miseries have been similarly discounted. No surprise in these outcomes: That’s reflexivity. It’s all the same mindset, and what we do to the web, we do to ourselves.
But the flipside of all this — and I have to keep saying there is always a flipside in the reflexive universe — is that when we start informing our actions with a vision of honoring life and connectedness, we’ll get better results. That’s the mindset that informs regenerative agricultural practices, and it better incorporates Chief Seattle’s wisdom.
Taking it down to an even more basic level, my operating assumption is that the way we see a stone, tree, river, meadow or mountain -- that matters, too, just as much as how we see our fellow human beings does. We might not notice, but these features of the natural world respond to how we see them. They reflect our vision. And they become our world. Honestly, I think these elements of the natural world would probably lean in the direction of better dialog and better relationship with humans, given half a chance. In any kind of relating, a little listening can go a long way.
We started the previous essay with the image of an anti-shoplifting mirror, discussing how reflexivity connects with reflectivity. But again, we are not flat mirrors, or even perfectly convex ones. We’re multileveled and multifaceted, and that’s actually helpful because the universe is, too. But if I’m a complicated mirror and the universe is a complicated mirror, think of it: ever seen what happens when you hold two mirrors together? Well, check out the photo at the start of this essay. It’s a visual representation of infinity. And that, my friends, is where we are. That’s what’s real. That’s where we come from, it’s where we’re going and it’s where we now exist. We’re surrounded by the infinite.
And sure, even among those who catch glimpses of this reality, sometimes we forget. Sometimes we forget the big picture; we forget the Golden Rule. We forget the infinite feedback loop of reflexivity in “what goes around comes around” and how it all connects, in a very personal way, to each one of us. But, we can also remember. We can remember that although we’re not really in control of anything here, we do have input, moment by moment, and our input matters. We can remember the Golden Rule and Chief Seattle’s web of life and keep these things in mind as we make choices.
And yep, the infinite is still here with us, and it’s still infinite. Feels to me like we’re always operating within larger and larger spheres of recursivity, spheres containing reflexive loops too big to encompass or control by mere calculation.
Related to this, I keep thinking lately of the story of Joseph in the Bible —the Joseph known for his multicolored coat — and how he was hated by his brothers and sold into slavery in Egypt, where he eventually also found himself imprisoned under false charges. That’s a lot of injustice for one person to deal with. But during his imprisonment, after Joseph correctly interprets another prisoner’s dream he eventually comes before the pharaoh and interprets Pharaoh’s dreams to indicate that soon, seven years of plenty will be followed by seven years of famine.
Most interesting to me as I reviewed the story is the way Joseph is recognized and valued for his gifts in Egypt. In his home country, not so much. After hearing Joseph’s interpretation of his dreams, Pharaoh elevates him to a position of governor second only to himself to help prepare for the times ahead. Years later when, sure enough, the predicted famine hits the region, Joseph’s brothers come to Egypt in search of grain to buy. Joseph speaks to his brothers through an interpreter, and they do not recognize him. Joseph gives them the grain needed to feed their community. Eventually after a few more turns in the story, Joseph reveals his identity and famously tells his brothers, as I will now quote from the Book of Genesis:
“Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today. So have no fear; I myself will provide for you and your little ones.” In this way he reassured them, speaking kindly to them.” [Genesis 50:20-21(NRSV)]
That’s the Bible passage.
Joseph forgave them, in other words.
And let’s not forget that the inflection point of the whole drama came when, imprisoned in a foreign land and deprived of everything: family, home, honor, friends, lands and status, Joseph found a way to make an offering by interpreting his fellow prisoners’ dreams. Doing so, to borrow from Chief Seattle’s imagery, is what Joseph brought to the web of life. Joseph made his offerings, and he gave his best, even when he found himself locked in a dungeon.
Which is why I so often am finding myself emphasizing the importance and the power of being aware of what we’re radiating into the world and noticing our offerings to the web of life, moment by moment. What we may find is that the little loops of reflexivity that we can see connect to something larger that we can’t. By grace or good fortune we can sometimes notice and feel how connected we are with these larger spheres and the longer arcs of reflexivity that extend beyond our vision. But it’s okay, even if we don’t. I don’t think Joseph was scheming for his own release when he made his offerings in prison, although it worked out that way. He just made those offerings. And he probably didn’t make his offering to the pharaoh expecting to be appointed as a high official of the land. He just made his offering. I’m trying to keep all this in mind these days.
And taking a cue from this whole story, my sense is that, following Joseph’s example, forgiveness can be an important step toward connecting us with the bigger arcs and larger spheres that are always there, even if they are not always immediately apparent, opening doors to new kinds of freedom. Yes, forgiveness can help with that. Likewise: Honesty. Humility. Compassion. Courage. Faith. These often help, too. Funny how reaching for the bigger versions of ourselves always brings us back to these basics. And it just makes sense: the bigger versions of us help us to grow and participate in larger ways. Reflexivity again.
And as for the infinite and all these larger spheres we inhabit, I’m just feeling more and more into that, noticing how big and expansive it all really is. Breathing more into it. Stepping into it with a fuller kind of commitment. Reflexivity isn’t just “paybacks and karma,” and for sure it’s not just a clever way of talking or a way of looking at things for better conniving and improved strategizing. On the most fundamental level, reflexivity is really just the way one heartbeat leads to another, and it might even be about noticing how it’s these pulses and waves inside us that help keep people upright here in a world that’s mostly water, just like us.