La plus ça change, la plus c’est la même chose
One event in history that stands out as an instant of great change is the fall of Rome. The sack of the great city in the mid 400s not only marks the oblivion of the imperial and military order which had commanded the European people’s for more than four centuries, it also crushed its entire civilization, or so we are led to believe. But when not long ago I visited Rome for the first time, I was struck by the specter of continuity. By the looks of it there was much that had not changed. In particular, I felt, the historic elements of the city which are an expression of power and authority – the remnants of imperial Rome but also the monuments of Christianity – all seemed to suggest to me that the process of change had been rather transitional and that the epoch which brought us the Dark Ages is just as fascinating for what had been destroyed as for what was preserved.
It all cumulates in the Rome’s predominant monument of history, the Vatican, a complex that was built to intimidate and to assert the supremacy of the Roman pope, much like his imperial predecessors. Christianity may have been inspired by piety and humility, but its appearance in the city of Rome (and, as many will argue, in some thousand years of its existence) rather underscores an unchanging desire to rule and indeed of every effort, throughout the past sixteen hundred years, to match and preserve what was seemingly lost by the hands of barbarism.
Paris, La Bastille, 1789
There have, of course, been subsequent instances of change – or revolution – in our history, such as the Reformation, the Enlightenment and the period of revolution that followed. The two world wars of the twentieth century similarly define major dividing lines, in manifold dimensions. But as with the history of Rome it can be said for all these instances that continuity was as much an interest of the generations which carried them as the enforcement of change. And thus, in a broader perspective, we can look our history as one in which both elements play a role, every time and again. And this must be true for our time too.
Having said this, change has been the fascination par excellence of our present generations. It is our first and foremost addiction. We want to see change every new season. The fashion of our clothes, the design of our commodities, the technology that drives our appliances; our architecture; all of it must be constantly on the move. And if this is particularly true for our material environment, the same holds for other, more abstract aspects of our world. When in our public arena someone calls “change!”, we rally to it en masse, without so much as a blink, as if change itself is more important than the actual purpose it is supposed to serve.
Nonetheless, even the most ardent champion of change must at one point or other concede to things that will not move. Vested interests and vested practices are often tenacious in their defense and so is this anonymous monster called ‘reality’. As a result, real change remains elusive, almost illusory, and it can only be perceived once considerable had passed – by hindsight. Moreover, in our present day, progressiveness and the urge to change the world for the better have taken a back seat (as has happened many more times in the past) in favor of reinvigorated conservative sentiments, even to the point where going back in time is being presented as a legitimate way to go ahead. We see this sentiment both in Europe and America, in the strengthening of rightist populism, much as a response to the perceived undermining of our societies and its traditional cultural assumptions by foreign elements.
But setting this aside, change is ongoing and seemingly irreversible both inside and outside our political arenas. We are just at the beginning of the information and communication revolution that has ravaged our traditional societal and civic fabric beyond recognition. Economic pressures in addition drive public service and commercial organizations to spew out obsolete management and supporting staff in ever increasing acceleration. At global level economic and political power is shifting into new patterns, adding to the discontent of many people in our world in respect of their future up to and including the most basic conditions of their lives. In my own country, the Netherlands, there is a growing uneasiness about the greater divide between rich and poor and about the diminishing opportunities, both true and perceived, of a significant segment of society to aspire a level of wealth - and welfare – similar to what has been enjoyed by the great majority of the people in previous decades.
Futurist imagery in present-day computergames
In this blog I have already alluded to the disappearance of “future” as a source of inspiration (and aspiration) in our collective mindset at several instances (see, most recently: A future that can energize). If anything our prevailing desire is for the present (and perhaps even the past) to remain where it is, with minor adjustments only. But this is a fallacy. We better be prepared, both in our own mind and in the choices we actually make. Change is a roaring monster which we should tame (or keep checked) in the service of our advancement and not the other way around. It requires that we articulate the terms of such advancement, based on the realities that we face. Adverse change will occur when we deny these realities, as we seem to be doing today. If we pursue along this course, we may find ourselves in a similar situation as the Romans did, many centuries ago. If we want to preserve and foster our continuity, we should embrace change in order to achieve it.
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