I am awake in the wee hours, texted my daughter who works the late shift and she returned, “It’s Early:30”. I am remembering Carl Sagan, a truly wide and deep well of not only knowledge but also awe and wonder. He died before his time but he took the unfathomable mystery of of nature, of the universe in particular and made it comprehensible. His quotes hang in my mind like Van Gogh paintings on museum walls.
Shortly before his death in 1996 he wrote, “We’ve arranged a society based on science and technology, in which nobody understands anything about science and technology; and this combustible mixture of ignorance and power, sooner or later, is going to blow up in our faces.” I am not a doomsday prophet but I don’t need help getting the point. Currently, scholar Yuval Harari is serving up that same message only from another direction. Together, ignorance and power have no fail-safe, no guard rail, no parachute, no compass, no self correcting autopilot. The dynamic duo of ignorance and power has been the trademark of many self serving former leaders, one in particular. Imagine a three year-old who has just mastered their first tricycle and you trust them with the keys to the car.
Sagan was the reassuring voice that balanced calculated risk with prudent reserve. Falling down can be undone, you get back up but being blown up is unforgiving. His point was this, hubris that flourishes hand in glove with power doesn’t acknowledge its own ignorance. That bears repeating, “. . . hubris does not acknowledge its own ignorance.” Sagan doesn't need me to rail against ignorance and its diabolical deal with power, he said it well enough.
On another day when he was waxing wonder he slipped into a poetic meter, something to do with seeing photographs of the earth from deep outer space. "Everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives on that pale blue dot, a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.” I would give Carl Sagan my undivided attention anytime, every time. Pundits and malcontents might call him a liberal elitist but when he didn’t know, he said, “I don’t know.” and when he said, “This is how it is . . .” you could count on it.
For detailed, qualified political commentary I read the New York Times. Sometimes they beat up on popular dignitaries but that is their job. Sagan looked at his culture much like a new mother with her newborn that was both grotesquely deformed and had an incurable case of explosive diarrhea. She knew the unavoidable truth but then hope has always been able to bridge despair. I think Sagan took that position in self defense. I wish I could do the same.
Shortly before his death in 1996 he wrote, “We’ve arranged a society based on science and technology, in which nobody understands anything about science and technology; and this combustible mixture of ignorance and power, sooner or later, is going to blow up in our faces.” I am not a doomsday prophet but I don’t need help getting the point. Currently, scholar Yuval Harari is serving up that same message only from another direction. Together, ignorance and power have no fail-safe, no guard rail, no parachute, no compass, no self correcting autopilot. The dynamic duo of ignorance and power has been the trademark of many self serving former leaders, one in particular. Imagine a three year-old who has just mastered their first tricycle and you trust them with the keys to the car.
Sagan was the reassuring voice that balanced calculated risk with prudent reserve. Falling down can be undone, you get back up but being blown up is unforgiving. His point was this, hubris that flourishes hand in glove with power doesn’t acknowledge its own ignorance. That bears repeating, “. . . hubris does not acknowledge its own ignorance.” Sagan doesn't need me to rail against ignorance and its diabolical deal with power, he said it well enough.
On another day when he was waxing wonder he slipped into a poetic meter, something to do with seeing photographs of the earth from deep outer space. "Everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives on that pale blue dot, a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.” I would give Carl Sagan my undivided attention anytime, every time. Pundits and malcontents might call him a liberal elitist but when he didn’t know, he said, “I don’t know.” and when he said, “This is how it is . . .” you could count on it.
For detailed, qualified political commentary I read the New York Times. Sometimes they beat up on popular dignitaries but that is their job. Sagan looked at his culture much like a new mother with her newborn that was both grotesquely deformed and had an incurable case of explosive diarrhea. She knew the unavoidable truth but then hope has always been able to bridge despair. I think Sagan took that position in self defense. I wish I could do the same.
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