Something from the archive

From issue 22 of What’s Next (June/July 2009).

We’ve had Spanish flu (1918-19), Asian flu (1957) and Hong Kong flu (1968-69). Then we had SARS, bird flu and recently, swine flu. There is also seasonal flu, which appears every winter and kills about 250,000 people annually, although this is often forgotten. The idea, “community of anxiety”, was coined in 2004 by the writer, Ian McEwan, in Saturday, a novel about events surrounding the Iraq war. A similar idea is information pandemics. Both ideas describe the way fear and anxiety are spreading throughout the world, fuelled primarily by the interconnectivity of digital communications. It can start with a single email, spread to a blog and end up on Twitter. The result is global panic on an unseen scale and outbreaks are difficult to contain.

In early May, the World Health Organization talked about the need to stockpile food and water due to the swine flu outbreak and raised the threat level to five out of a possible six. Meanwhile, airports were installing thermal scanners and newspapers revelled in the story as it grew more scary and spectacular. The whole world seemed to be running for cover wearing a variety of (mostly useless) facemasks. Fear was spreading fast, fed with a mixture of confusion and impotence. The threat is real enough. The 1918 outbreak killed 20-50 million people in less than 18-months while the Black Death in the 14th century wiped out a third of the European population in just two years. Even the Asia and Hong Kong pandemics killed about 1-2 million people apiece. But we are confusing what’s possible with what’s probable. The reason is a collective feeling – a mood if you like – that something big and nasty is coming our way. This is partly because a string of events, from 9/11 and climate change to the economic collapse, have left us feeling unsure about what’s next. It is possible that a real pandemic will eventually emerge.

It will probably start in an overcrowded Asian city and travel economy class on a jet to the US and Europe. We may be able to contain it or we may not. The science surrounding such things is uncertain. Interestingly though, there appears to be a sense that we deserve things like this to happen to us. In some way, we are collectively guilty (because we borrowed too much money or damaged the planet with our selfish, materialist ways, perhaps) and we need to be punished. There is also a warped sense of curiosity at play. What would the world look like after a genuine pandemic? Would the death of 50 million people give everyone more food to eat? Another example of the fear factor was the jet that flew low over New York in early May. People automatically assumed another terrorist attack and panic whipped around Manhattan like wildfire. It turned out to be someone taking photographs but by then it was too late. And this, perhaps, is the point. Information now flows around the world too quickly and there is not enough time to properly react or to separate fact from opinion, anecdote from analysis, or sensation from science. There is too much information and much of it is unreliable.

Thanks to Web 2.0 the old hierarchy of knowledge, where source related to trustworthiness and reliability, has broken down. Furthermore, the people we used to trust (scientists, politicians, religious figures) are now widely distrusted so we ignore them. Swine flu is killing about 0.1% of those it infects; the mortality rate for the 1918-19 variety was 2.5-5.0%. So very few people have died so far. This could still change but I doubt it. Nevertheless, the sense of impending apocalypse remains.

Ref: Sydney Morning Herald (Aus) 2-3 May 2009, ‘Fear fever’, J. Huxley. www.smh.com.au See also The Fourth Horseman: A history of epidemics, plagues and other scourges by Andrew Nikiforuk, Panicology by Simon Briscoe and Hugh Aldersey-Williams and Risk: The science & politics of fear by Dan Gardner.

Information Pandemic

Section from mega-trends map

It’s interesting to me to see how the media, and hence the public, are responding to Coronavirus (I think that’s the correct way around, but it’s hard to say who’s leading who sometimes). The risk of death is remote (a mortality rate of between 0.7% and 3.0% currently depending on circumstances and location), which is almost nothing. Ebola had a mortality rate of 60%, SARS 10%. The numbers 0.7-3.0 are still significant if applied across a while population, but the response of the media, and hence governments and people, generally seems over the top.

I think that perhaps the reason for this might be the current narrative, which is doomsday apocalyse (think of climate change and species extinction in particular). It’s also got something to do with how we think about the future generally, which is logical but hugely unhelpful (we simply extrapolate from current data or conditions in a linear manner) and perhaps the fact that people are generally dreadful at working out real probabilities or understanding the impact of feedback loops, counter-trends or unexpected events.

And, of course, connectivity is fuelling everything. It’s spreading the virus, but it’s also spreading panic about the virus. News is travelling to fast to be properly analysed, fact checked or placed in proper context.

Anyway, as they say, my particular interest at the moment is how the current panic about Coronovirus might work with other anxities to create some kind of super-anxiety or mental collapse (shades of Future Shock – see After Shock). I eluded to this somewhat when I created my risk radar and spoke of unseen combinations of events and put Global pandemic alongside Loss of antibiotic efficacy, Mental health epidemic and Global financial system collapse. The thought was repeated on the list of global gamechagers on my map of mega-trends.

Section from risk radar

So what to do? I think the Stoics have it nailed. Worry about or do something about what you can influence, or control, and don’t worry or try to control about what you can’t. In the words of Seneca, “The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs on tomorrow and loses today.” Or, as he also put it, “You are arranging what lies in Fortune’s control, and abandoning what lies in yours.” It will be what it will be.

An age of anxiety

Future Shock at Fifty

Here’s my chapter from the new book that’s just out looking back at Future Shock. The book, After Shock, can be bought here. US link here.

Future Shock @ 50.

One of the enduring issues futurists face is bad timing. Like science-fiction writers and technologists, futurists often believe that things will happen sooner rather than later. Future Shock, which accurately described the turmoil of the 1970s, is perhaps more accurate and relevant now than it was then. The book’s central idea, that the perception of too much change over too short a period of time would create instability, perfectly describes the volatility, uncertainty and confusion currently being created by geo-political events, climate change and technology, most of all digital technologies, that accelerate everything except our capacity to cope with change. Hence a global epidemic of anxiety that expresses itself in everything from the rise of mental illness to the mass prescription of painkillers and anti-depressants.

Looking backwards, it’s hard to imagine how the upheavals of the early 1970s could have be seen as shocking. Surely the pace of change then was glacial compared to what it is now? But we have largely forgotten about the seismic shift from ‘we’ to ‘me’ that accompanied the fading of the sixties and the blossoming of the seventies. Group love was replaced by empowered individualism. The invention of modern computing, which soon became personal computing, amplified the focus on the individual even further. Peace, too, was shattered, not only by the enduring war in Vietnam, but by the invention of international terrorism, while OPEC’s oil shock created inflation and economic uncertainty. Oh, and the US had a rogue President, which proves, to me at least, that some things do not change quite as much as we sometimes imagine.

Maybe the speed of change in the 70s wasn’t as rapid as today, but events back then were still alarming compared to the relative stability that had endured before. Global media made such events more visible too. Information Overload is idea championed in Future Shock and another that feels almost quaint when it’s used in the context of the 70s. Overloaded? Way back then? You cannot be serious.

The problem, of course, is that while many things did indeed change, and continue to do so today, we do not. Or, at least, we struggle to keep up. Edward O. Wilson, the American biologist, sums the situation up perfectly when he says that:

Humanity today is like a waking dreamer, caught between the fantasies of sleep and the chaos of the real world.

The mind seeks but cannot find the precise place and hour.

We have created a Star Wars civilization, with Stone Age emotions, medieval institutions, and godlike technology.”

This clash, between technologies and behaviours that change rapidly (exponential is a word that’s thrown around with careless abandon, but rarely stacks up outside computing) and our brains which do not change as fast was seen by the Toffler’s as being injurious to not only our health, but to our decision-making abilities too.

Interestingly, decades after Future Shock was written, a study published by Angelika Dimoka, Director of the Centre for Neural Decision Making at Temple University, appears to support part of what the book proposed.

This study found that as information is increased, so too is activity in the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, a region of the human brain associated with decision-making and the control of emotions. Yet eventually, if incoming information continues to flow unrestrained, activity in this region falls off. The reason for this is that part of the brain has essentially left the building. When information reaches a tipping point, the brain protects itself by shutting down certain functions. Outcomes include a tendency for anxiety and stress levels to soar and for people to abstain from making important decisions. Not so much future shock as present paralysis, perhaps.

Future Shock did not propose a solution to this problem.

The book, as the authors pointed out, was always more of a diagnosis than a cure, although education is mentioned as a critically important factor going forward. So too is a need to guard against change that’s either unguided or unrestrained.

This, again, is very much where we stand today. Technologies such as autonomous trucks, surgical robots and battlefield drones are being developed with little or no public debate.

If Tesla, for example, were Boeing or Bristol-Myers Squibb, I find it hard to imagine how their products would be allowed anywhere near the public at such a stage of development. As for artificial intelligence, the situation is even worse.

Broad or General AI could be the best or the worst invention humankind will ever make and yet there is hardly any broad discussion about the risks, let alone any public debate about what this technology is ultimately for. Like many other things, AI is largely being imposed upon people for economic gain and it is hard to see why it will enhance rather than diminish our humanity overall. However, this pessimistic view ignores two things I’ve learned about the future, which is that the future is not linear and it’s not binary either. Things will happen that nobody, especially futurists, saw coming and the most likely scenario is an uneasy balance between people wishing to push forwards and others wanting to pull back.

So, fifty years on, is there now a cure for Future Shock?

I think there is and I believe that we are beginning to see some early signs of it.

In my view, the central problem at the moment is not change or acceleration per se, but that we have lost trust in government, science, business, the media and even each other. We’ve also simultaneously lost our anchor points and thrown away our ballast, with the result that we are being tossed about in a high sea without any sign of land to navigate towards. No wonder we are feeling disorientated and somewhat nauseous.

It is this lack of direction, more than anything else, that is fuelling our anxiety in my view. But a simple solution is at hand. First, we need a moderate level of disconnection.

We need to stop treating all information as power and reclaim some control over what enters our brains. The information universe is infinite, but our attention spans and mental processing capabilities are not. More importantly, without a strong sense of identity, in other words a sense of whom we are and where we stand, we will continue to be thrown around by the slightest disturbance.

I’m not for a moment suggesting that we ditch our cell-phones or throw out our televisions in the style of Peter Finch in the movie Network, more than we consider more carefully the ideas that we let into our homes and our brains.

One we have regained some sense of calm and perspective we then need to talk to each other about where it is that we want to go in the future. How do we want to live? Even the ‘fact’ that the future has arrived all at once, which some people cite as being a source for many of our troubles, would be easy to deal with if we only knew what destination we were heading towards. Then, as Future Shock suggests, we could restrain or reject anything that impedes our progress.

Having a view of what lies ahead, a shared vision of a promised land if you will, would also allow us to focus more on the present and worry less about endless unknowns. We should spend far less time individually worrying about what might happen and much more time collectively thinking about what it is that we want to happen.

There are echoes of this happening already in everything from the growing disenchantment with our political elites and Big Tech to the criticisms that are emerging concerning globalisation and the sterile nature of free-market economics and the inequality of wealth and opportunity that results.

In my opinion, the next big thing will be a seismic shift concerning what we value, which is us. All we are waiting for is a trigger. People can feel that something or someone is coming already, although nobody has expressed it yet.

It is the absence of a future, and especially a future where humanity matters, that is being felt, but I believe we are on the cusp of changing things in the right direction.

As Future Shock says, we need to humanize distant tomorrows and the best way of doing this is to take control of the future. Whether we like it or not, we are on the cusp of developing technologies that will give us godlike powers. The simple question is what to do with this power. Who do we, as individuals, societies and a species, want to be?

Alvin Toffler died in 2016, his wife and co-author in 2019, and I think we all owe them a great debt. Not only did they place future thinking firmly on the world’s stage, they established a literary genre that continues to this day.

Richard Watson is the author of Digital Vs. Human and the founder of nowandnext.com

Stat of the Week

Things are changing rapidly, but so far around 360 people have died from Corona Virus in China. To put this in context, between 2002 and 2003, around 800 people died from the SARS Virus. Over the winter of 2017, 80,000 people in the US died from flu.

Source: Center for Disease Control (US).