The School of Life

Mark Vernon on the Rules of the Group

 The last couple of nights, we’ve sat in the house – watching the blogs, exchanging texts – as our part of London operates a virtual curfew. The looting and arson is rightly condemned. I’m glad about that. But the moment is arriving to try to understand what has been happening on the streets of the UK’s cities too.

It is complex. However, one concept might be particularly useful. It’s the psychological phenomenon of group conscience.

The modern world teaches us that we are individuals. I make my own choices, attend to my own interests and strive to be self-sufficient. Autonomy and individual rights are the moral ideals that shape our age.

In truth, though, no-one is an island. We are social animals, as Aristotle observed, meaning not that we like to socialise, but that our identity is primarily collective. My family, my gang, my team, my nation are where I feel most fully myself and we will go to extraordinary lengths to maintain that sense of belonging. This is what group conscience protects and enforces. It keeps you in, even if that means keeping others out.

It can be likened to the way birds flock in the air, making the most extraordinary patterns as they wheel and swirl. The science suggests that the birds obey just one or two rules. Head for the centre. Mimic your neighbour. They are the rules of the group. We humans are driven by similar compulsions. We long to know our place.

What, then, of the rioters? There is a lot of outraged comment about why youths don’t know the difference between right and wrong. But criminologists point out that this is necessary but by itself also misses the point. Like the birds, the looters are not primarily acting as self-autonomous individuals. They are copycats – doing what their mates are doing; doing what other gangs are doing. This also explains why the violence spreads, and why that is so alarmingly hard to control.

As journalists interview rioters, this is what you hear them say. ‘It was fun.’ ‘We show we can do what we want to.’ ‘It’s time for payback.’ These are collective sentiments. The morality these guys obey is that of the group. And unsettlingly, it can be half good as well as bad. Some of their values, it seems, are driven by a sense of rage and injustice. Others are driven by the culture of greed that opportunistically puts its hand in the till – a value embodied in many other groups too, it should be said.

In fact, we are all the same. The difference is that our groups probably follow values that are mostly, thankfully, pro-social. Group conscience has been heart-warmingly demonstrated by #RiotCleanUp: ‘It's a movement’ declares Dan Thompson, the organiser of the broom army. It has also been on display amongst the vigilantes seeking to protect their property – though they must be careful to monitor the rules they obey.

Heading for the centre and mimicking your neighbour are powerful urges that can lead anyone astray.

Mark Vernon is a philosopher, author and faculty member of The School of Life.  Follow his blog www.markvernon.com

Image by illustrator Emmeline Pidgen see@emmelinedraws

John-Paul Flintoff on #RiotCleanUp

I’m typing this quickly, to get it out before I hear that any more rioting has started, and before setting out to run a class this evening at The School of Life for any intrepid learners not scared to venture out too.

So: #RiotCleanUp. I have been very excited since first seeing this combination of words last night, while the riots were still going.

You see, I’m trying to finish writing a book about changing the world (I know!), but am struggling with the dense horror of the term “non-violent action”. I love the idea, but the words are so off-putting.

I think that #RiotCleanUp more or less conveys much the same idea: it’s dramatic, but also wholesome. There’s a bit of yin and yang going on, as my Chinese doctor might put it: a hint of the liveliness of “riot” that was relished by, among others, the “Riot Grrrrrl” punks, but also sober helpfulness and putting-things-right.

I’ve been a fan of the Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh for some time, ever since reading one of his books opened my eyes to the possibility of (momentary) enlightenment while washing up. So any movement that takes as its logo a yellow washing up glove is a movement I want to belong to.

(Not that I usually wear washing up gloves, as it happens, because they don’t seem ever to fit my big hands. And washing up gloves are hardly what you need when gathering the broken shards of glass after a riot. But they’re immediately identifiable, and I like them.)

Anyway, am off shortly. But before I go, I’m going to make a trial badge using this image and a make-your-own-badges kit that my brother gave my daughter for her birthday a couple of years ago.

If it’s any good, I might make lots more, the industrial way, and even try to get retailers to sell them.

Would be glad to know what you think.

John Paul Flintoff is a faculty member of The School of Life.  Follow his tumblr here and keep your eye out for #RiotCleanUp badges coming soon........Join the clean up at www.riotcleanup.co.uk

David Bodanis on 'Aleph'

I love the idea that the first letter in the Hebrew alphabet , the ‘aleph’, is unvoiced. To use it you have to go beyond what you see. An entire language operates without this first letter’s presence  being heard – and there’s a  great wisdom there.

The second of the ten commandments, the one about no false idols, is very much like the quiet aleph. Focus on an idol, and you have responsibilities to it. It keeps you worshipping money, or your career, or desperate passion. But in all the time you spend bowing to your idols and nourishing them, you have very little left over for anything else.

The aleph is different, as is the second commandment. The aleph can’t be worshipped, for it’s not really there. It’s just a sign of something else. When idols are treated like that, it’s impossible to waste time on them. Instead, there’s no alternative but to turn to the real world beyond  them. That’s the ultimate equation for life.

For then, unburdened, you can enter what’s waiting there.

David Bodanis is a futurist, historian, scientist, business advisor and prize-winning author. He will be taking a Sunday Sermon on The Ten Commandments on 11 July. To book your place please click here.

How to Live Well in 2010

How can we live better? It’s a big question for 2010, what with financial belt-tightening and becoming a bit more green. And it’s an opportunity to seize not shirk, a chance to focus on what really counts. It’s an issue the ancient Greek philosophers, those masters of good living, understood well. They lived through a time of uncertainty too and it sparked a lifestyle revolution. We call it philosophy.

 

So what would they advise us at the start of a new decade?  Here’s a few suggestions:

 

1. Diet, but not to lose weight. For there’s a more interesting and enriching reason for eating less. Epicurus, who was known as a hedonist, wasn't like today's hedonists. He didn’t argue that the pursuit of more was the key to happiness. Quite the opposite. He said he was as happy as Zeus when all he had to eat was a glass of water and a barley cake. Enjoying less, not more. Pleasure in small things. That’s the real test for us in a consumer age.

 

2. Work to live, don’t live to work. Cleanthes, who was a Stoic philosopher and also known as the water-carrier, worked by night so that he could do philosophy by day. He was clear that he would work enough, and only enough, to support his real passion, the thinking and writing. His story is timely, for in a year that will be marked by more job insecurity and credit crises, it will be even easier to work so hard that you miss what you want.

 

3. Meet a friend face to face, when you might have chatted online. Aristotle is our advisor on this matter. He argued that good friendship – soulmateship – is only possible when friends ‘share salt together’. He meant that they sit down with each other, not just over the occasional meal, but frequently and often. Then, you see each other body and soul. Texting and websites are part of modern friendship, but alone, they are not enough.

 

4. Start each day by contemplating the worst that can happen. It sounds like a  recipe for pessimism. But the odd thing is that it isn’t. In fact, the day will never look better. Zeno, the Stoic, advised this practice. His point was that we spend too much of our time anticipating the worst, when mostly there’s nothing we can do about it. So embrace the worst; it probably won’t happen. And enjoy the day.

 

5. Take a technology Sabbath. Take a break from the relentless churn of emails, blogs and websites. They flitter in front of your eyes, and it’s too easy to fritter your life away in front of them. So have one day off a week from IT. Read a book, talk to friends, go for a walk instead. Secundus the Silent is our advisor here. He vowed not to speak, realizing that words are typically wasted. And he found it made him wise.

 

6. Talk to a stranger. There is a source of knowledge and insight all around us, and yet we barely notice it’s there. It’s not Google. It’s the strangers with whom share our world. Socrates realized this, and so started to ask people questions as he walked the streets of Athens – what is friendship, what is happiness, what is love? It was an extraordinary thing to do, and led to nothing less than the invention of philosophy.

 

7. Go on retreat. To take time out, away from the world, is an old religious practice. The pace of life is slower. It creates time for reflection. It should be easy to do, but actually it’s slightly frightening, for fear of what might emerge. Which is what Onescritus discovered. He went to India, and sat with the sages. He came back a changed man.

 

8. Write a blog for one week. If there’s one quality that you need not just to live, but to live well, it’s curiosity. With that, you’ll really see the world, and your life, and imagine it in a different light. This is what Sappho could do. Her verse changed the world because she gave women voice. Poetry is hard, so turn your observations into a blog. And see how you see things differently.

 

9. Do something that will surprise your friends, and you. One day, Diogenes the Cynic observed a mouse running about. He was shocked at how free it was, and how inhibited he was in comparison. Immediately, he took up residence in a barrel. His philosophy was that conventions trap us. So try breaking one or two, he’d say. A real taste of liberty will be yours.

 

10. Decide what you want at your funeral. We are different from other creatures, perhaps in several ways, but one must be that we often contemplate death. Some philosophers, like Plato, believed that death directly or indirectly shapes our every waking moment, and perhaps those during sleep too. But it can be tamed, by befriending it. To learn how to die, is to learn to live well.

 

Mark Vernon is a faculty member of The School of Life.   

Mark Vernon on What’s your philosophy type?

TAKE THIS QUIZ to see which master of good living has the best advice for you on how to live well. 

The philosophers of ancient Athens believed that ‘thought is therapy’ and were a powerhouse of ideas on how to live well.  Six main schools of philosophy emerged, each led by its own guru, each with its own approach, each appealing to different kinds of people. There were the Stoics, Epicureans, Cynics and Platonists, amongst others. A key question faced you as you travelled to Athens: who are you to follow? As the proof of the pudding is in the eating, so the proof of any philosophy is in the living - and whether it helps you to live well.  What's your philosophy type? 

Designed by faculty member Mark Vernon, whose new book Plato's Podcasts: The Ancients' Guide to Modern Living is out now and available through The School of Life shop.

Tom Mellors shares his ambivalence about our herding instincts

In Beyond Good and Evil, Nietzsche observes that "for as long as there have been humans, there have also been human herds." He considers humanity's long history of obedience and concludes that "everyone on average is born with a need to obey, as a kind of formal conscience that decrees... 'thou shalt!'"

 

The herd instinct may originate in our desire to become one with our community and surroundings but it can all too easily negate our individuality. It’s an instinct to fit in with the group and 'to follow'. At its best an instinct that joins us in family groups, congregations, tribes, peoples, and nations. But at its worst an instinct responsible for youth gangs, celebrity worshipers, of people who "stick to a brand", or submit to a dominant idea of how to live.

 

The dominant commandments in our "developed" society too often seem to comprise 'thou shalt consume', 'thou shalt work and be successful', 'thou shalt desire', and 'thou shalt love thyself above all others'. Although these commandments are not chiselled into stone or scripture, they are proclaimed subtly from almost every billboard and television advert. John Carpenter's cult film They Live incorporates this idea into its main plot. In the film George Nada, a homeless labourer in Los Angeles, finds a pair of sunglasses which reveal the true messages in the advertising around him. So when he looks at a billboard advertising something, all Nada sees is the words "Obey", "Watch TV", or "Marry and Reproduce".

 

The humanist philosopher Erich Fromm often talked about the biblical creation story, with particular focus on Adam and Eve's expulsion from paradise. Fromm believed that when Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge they suddenly became aware of themselves as being separate from nature, while remaining in nature. This, he says, explains why they suddenly felt ashamed and naked. Fromm believed that humanity's subconscious awareness of its disunited and separate existence is a source of guilt and shame, creating a deep desire to escape the feeling of loneliness. One way to overcome this loneliness is through conformity with the group and obedience. A quick scan of 20th century history provides many examples of where the herd instinct has become a religion and a goal in itself - few examples more destructive than Nazi nationalism.

 

The herd instinct today is a complex one, driven by strong narcissistic drives as well as the drive to obey and conform. The stories you hear in the news about absurd crimes committed over the gain of petty objects are arguably an example of when the tension between the need to obey and narcissistic desire fall out of balance. Yet to presume that all herds are exploitative would be to overlook the importance in life of smaller herds, such as family and friends. Confucius saw virtue in these groups, and he believed that familial duty especially helps individuals to cultivate personal and social harmony.

Nietzsche’s alternative to the herd is a life of extreme individualism which is supremely narcissistic. Rather than chase after extreme states of being - within or without of the herd - we should strive to negotiate a balance between the two.

 

Caroline Brimmer on pedalling thoughts...

Albert Einstein, a keen cyclist, said “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving.” Cyclists on The School of Life’s recent Philosophy by Bicycle holiday certainly agreed. With just over 20 miles and the whole of Western philosophy to navigate in a day, there wasn’t much time for hanging around.

And yet, as all cyclists know, the saddle is one of the very best places from which to contemplate the world. As Robert M Pirsig, author of the infamous Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, said “In a car you’re always in a compartment...You’re a passive observer. On a cycle the frame is gone. You’re in the scene, not just watching it. The sense of presence is overwhelming.”

Led by philosopher Nigel Warburton and presenter of Resonance FM’s Bike Show, Jack Thurston, this incredible day saw us debating the nature of self under a tree in Victoria Park, questioning our experience of space under a flyover next to the Albert Docks, considering choice as we circumvented the new Olympic site and discussing death whilst dodging pedestrians in the Greenwich Foot Tunnel.

And if it all sounds a bit like hard work, don’t worry, we also fitted in numerous refreshment stops and a leisurely pub lunch by the river. In fact, it was so much fun, we’ve decided to do it again.

To find out more and to join us for the next ride which will take place on Saturday 25 July, click here.

Caroline Brimmer is Programme Manager at The School of Life

Mark Vernon on the importance of a good breakfast

I have never understood people who do not eat breakfast. It is one of the blessings of the day. And what a joy: it comes around regular as clockwork, every morning. The night might have been short or long, but there is always the thought of tea, then cereal and fruit, then coffee. The tastes are simple. As is the pleasure. Why anyone would want to deny themselves by skipping breakfast is a mystery.

Breakfast meets certain biological needs. First thing in the morning, our blood sugar level is low. This is no doubt why sweet pastries are common breakfast fare. Tea and coffee perform a similar trick as an alternative physiological stimulus.

But all human hungers carry meaning too. So, breakfast is also a ritual. However you prefer to start the day, it doesn'’t start quite right if breakfast isn'’t quite right. Remember the time you stayed in a hotel where they served a 'continental breakfast'. At first, the processed cheese and low fat yoghurt seemed exotic. But somehow they did not hit the spot, as bacon and eggs would.

The point is that we humans don’t just eat food to quell our appetite. For those of us on this planet who have enough to eat, eating is mostly not just a question of satisfying our hunger. We prefer it to be a culinary delight. We also like to do it together. The word 'company' itself is derived from the Latin words meaning bread and together, panis and com: ‘companis’ - company. Hence we have wedding feasts, romantic suppers, birthday parties, celebratory dinners, and breakfast.

The word itself is an amalgam of two words, ‘break’ and ‘fast’. As the first meal of the day, it was the moment when medieval monks broke their overnight fast. Renewed by the night, they could start the day afresh.

And this is what we'll be doing at The School of Life's Breakfast Club. Think of it as waking up not just to tasty food but to nourishing ideas too. We'll be asking what it is to wake up anyway, how to engage with the day, and how to share in the company of others. We'll introduce you to thinkers who stimulate the soul, as the coffee stimulates the body. We are confident you’ll leave with a renewed sense of how to seize the day.

Mark Vernon is part of The School of Life faculty. To find out more about The School of Life’s Breakfast Club click HERE. Breakfast photo by Johanna Neurath.

 

Catherine Blyth on silence

Those of you who read the Evening Standard will have noticed The School of Life's regular Friday column "Life Class", which has been runnning there for several months now. It's written by different members of our fabulous faculty and has covered subjects as various as shyness and shopping. I'm posting last week's column about Silence, written by Catherine Blyth, to give you a flavour.

1.    In the beginning was the word.  So what is there to say about silence?  Plenty, judging by Amazon, where 8,772 book titles feature this term.  Most are murder mysteries or spiritual musings, reflecting mixed feelings about these hazy seven letters.

2.    Silence is nothing if not ambivalent. Since it requires discipline, it has long been associated with power, both good and evil. To Romans, the goddess Isis vanquished 'the lamentable silences of hell'.  Yet for Buddhists, freedom from the word brings higher consciousness.  Today, however, negative sentiments are rising, and while city dwellers should appreciate quiet, they seem the most intimidated by silence.

3.    Our noisy culture is unbalanced by the view that good communication is all talk. At a gap in conversation, few of us pause to consider silence's virtues: we're too busy panicking how to fill it.   The quiet person threatens, because he acts as a verbal laxative on us.  Maybe this is why corporations are stuffed with strong, silent types, whose success seems disproportionate to the few ideas anyone recalls them having.  Then again, they can't be blamed for bad ideas.

4.    Silence should be cherished for more than the ease that it signals with a loved companion.  In fact, this communication tool is as versatile as the queen in chess.  Seventeenth-century conversation gourmet La Rochefoucauld distinguished between the “eloquent”, “mocking” and “respectful” silence.  But its meaning is never fixed: it can express empathy or confusion, encourage intimacy or distance, depending on how it is interpreted.

5.    Used wisely, silence compels others to speak (handy in negotiation). It also helps them to listen, by lending weight to what we say.  Stand-up comics pace jokes carefully: 'Don't,' they advise, 'step on your punchline'. In that extra beat the audience's imagination becomes their collaborator.  This is why masters of silence may be taken for master talkers.  Such as the wily French politician, Talleyrand, who used to sit up late, polishing fine phrases.  At parties he was a clam, before suddenly spitting out a sentence that people claimed 'was the sort they never forgot'.  So have a pause for thought.

Catherine Blyth is the author of The Art of Conversation.  She will be hosting The School of Life's next Conversation Meal at the Front Line Club on April 19th. Find out more here.

Next week's Life Class column by Robert Rowland Smith is about secrets. Look out for it in the Evening Standard on Friday 10 April.

Nigel Warburton on Free Speech

Philosopher Nigel Warburton will be wading through the thickets of censorship, hate speech, offensiveness and human rights this Friday at The School of Life. Find out more about the event and about Nigel's new book on Free Speech here.

Nigel has also created an invaluable web resource of podcasts, articles and links around the topic. Listen to his contribution to the new Thought for the World series, in which we argues with reference to the Geert Wilders case, that offensive views can have an unexpectedly beneficial side-effects.