The Moth Tale and cosmic isolationism
We often hear we are in crisis of information. It might be more accurate to say that we are in a crisis of meaning. It reminds me of the Tale of the Moth. It is said that moths evolved to use the moon to navigate the night. But this is a brave new world for them. In our modern cities, they are fatally attracted to “fake moons”, our electric lamps that proliferate the night. There is something sad about knowing that they lost their path.
In some levels more complex that moths, maybe we also have lost sight of our guiding light. At some basic level maybe we too are beings of light. Could it be that we are suffering of a crisis of meaning because of our cosmic isolationism? Raised in big cities, confined to desk jobs and cement jungles, we marched down into another chapter of our civilization without the awe that inspired the first humans. Every ancient culture has looked at the sky, perhaps with the same humility. But we, we are distracted following our artificial neon lights.
I remember this day, I was in a VR conference and heard that a young lady wanted to build a VR application to experience the night sky in Singapore because there, people don’t even know how a starry night looks like anymore. Singapore is one of the most light-polluted cities in the world. With the invention of fire, and later the light bulb, we conquered the night, and gave birth to our ever more fast-paced world. But where are we moving towards? Are we as lost as the moths? Are we, just like them, giving the impression of moving fast when indeed we are just stuck orbiting around fake moons? so lost that one day we will forget we have eyes to look up, and we will replace them with VR lenses to look to an artificial sky?
We need to reconquer dark skies in our nights. Looking at the sky might have a powerful cognitive role for us. Devoured by its greatness, we may realize how small we are, how infant our ideas about the universe. The greater the surrender to a cosmic quest, the smaller our ego, the more we suspect the “I” story we are told. When I look at the sky I feel less certain, less grounded in my beliefs, and also, a deep craving for otherness.
Starts might indeed guide us into cognitive paths we need explore to find ourselves. The Blue Marble is turning into a glowing globe, yet we might have never felt more lost in the universe. And maybe, only maybe, the most radical to do is not to rage against the dying of the light, but to embrace our cosmic darkness.
