One hot day last summer I was watching a trail of ants in the back yard, marveling at their disciplined and orderly behavior. They marched in a steady line, bunching up occasionally behind an obstacle, but always in perfect unison. Another line flowed in the opposite direction, returning to the nest. Then I had one of those curious moments when the mind superimposes one image upon another. I was looking down at the Long Island Expressway from a plane taking off from the local airport, marveling at an almost identical exhibition of discipline, order, and inscrutable purpose. Thousands of cars ran in steady lines from east to west, bunching up occasionally behind some obstacle, but always in perfect unison. Another line flowed in the opposite direction, returning to the suburban nest.
It’s an inescapable fact that aliens viewing Los Angeles or New York from outer space would inevitably assume that we are ants, or something very like. But we know better. The ants, are simply and instinctively collecting food, which they take straight back to the nest. Human commuters have evolved the far more elaborate behavior of sitting in offices for eight hours, collecting a paycheck, going to the supermarket, and then taking the food back to the nest. When it comes to complexity, there’s no contest. On the other hand, ants don’t have to spend all day tapping inane nonsense on to keyboards with their feelers, so perhaps we haven’t evolved quite as far as we thought. We shouldn’t feel too badly about it. Ants are one of evolution’s most successful creatures – 168 million years old and counting. Obviously we are on the right track.
I’m joking of course, but my point is just that. The discipline we demonstrate on the highways never ceases to amaze and impress me. We may all be unique individuals, but sometimes we hide it well.
What an intriguing paradox this is! The world in general seems to be in a state of chaos. Then we look at our highways and we see the exact opposite: a model of almost instinctive obedience, which we take completely for granted. If driving is a metaphor of the state of civilization, then I think we can feel pretty smug about this.
I must confess that discipline is not my favorite thing. At school, I was the founding and only member of the Anarchist Society – apart for my best friend Michael who was an associate member. He was an anarchist who preferred to obey the rules. Perhaps that’s what we all are, in a way: anarchists who prefer to obey the rules, because where would we be without them? Driving would become a mere suicide mission. Orchestral music would disappear. Schools would implode. The rule of law would be history. It’s tempting, yes, but only as a teenager’s fantasy.
We are careful and obedient, not necessarily because we love discipline but because we have so much to lose. Our possessions and our privileges make us vulnerable. People who own delicate, expensive things like cars tend to take very few chances.
Copyright: David Bouchier
It’s an inescapable fact that aliens viewing Los Angeles or New York from outer space would inevitably assume that we are ants, or something very like it. But we know better. The ants, are simply and instinctively collecting food, which they take straight back to the nest. Human commuters have evolved the far more elaborate behavior of sitting in offices for eight hours, collecting a paycheck, going to the supermarket, and then taking food back to the nest. When it comes to complexity, there’s no contest. On the other hand, ants don’t have to spend all day tapping inane nonsense on to keyboards with their feelers, so maybe we haven’t evolved quite as far as we thought. We shouldn’t feel too badly about it. Ants are one of evolution’s most successful creatures – 168 million years old and counting. Obviously we are on the right track.
I’m joking of course, but my point is just that driving, like so many things we do, looks like instinctive behavior from the outside. The discipline we demonstrate on the highways never ceases to amaze and impress me. We may all be unique individuals, but sometimes we hide it well.
What an intriguing paradox this is! The world in general seems to be in a state of chaos. Then we look at our highways and we see the exact opposite: a model of almost instinctive obedience, which we take completely for granted. It doesn’t always work, of course. Cell phones have injected a measure of madness into the system. But generally speaking, sanity prevails. If driving is a metaphor of the state of a civilization – and I think it is, look at the traffic in Baghdad, for example – then I think we can feel pretty smug about this.
I must confess that discipline is not my favorite thing. At school, I was the founding and only member of the Anarchist Society – apart for my best friend Michael who was an associate member. He was an anarchist who preferred to obey the rules. Perhaps that’s what we all are, in a way: anarchists who prefer to obey the rules, because where would we be without them? Driving would become a mere suicide mission. Orchestral music would disappear. Schools would implode. The rule of law would be history. It’s tempting, yes, but only as a teenager’s fantasy.
We are careful and obedient, not necessarily because we love discipline but because we have so much to lose. Our possessions and our privileges make us vulnerable. People who own delicate, expensive things like cars tend to take very few chances.
Copyright: David Bouchier
