Wildly Protopian

On the set of Wild, at American Repertory Theater (Photo: Maggie Hall-Nile Scott Studios)

Most of the thinkers I follow closely are actively exploring alternative models, ones that can impact our ability to continue as a species on this planet. That search for a change is summed up by Daniel Schmachtenberger:

Rather than just iterative evolution, we are on the brink of a phase shift…something that requires larger, more fundamental, axiomatic, and structural shift. So we can talk about what the criteria for the other side of that have to look like for it to be a non self-terminating system, and for it to be an antifragile system. And those are two of the important criteria of any kind of world that is interesting for anyone.

The process is far from linear or doctrinaire. For Schmachtenberger, the most compelling talking head I know, the task is to stay tirelessly open, asking questions and admitting to a flawed and incomplete understanding. There’s a refreshing humility in his dogged refusal to give in to short sighted resolutions that aren’t solutions at all.

In science, quantum physicists Chiara Marletto and David Deutsch have introduced an innovative approach called the constructor theory. In her book, The Science of Can and Can’t: A Physicist’s Journey through the Land of Counterfactuals, Marletto looks at the counterfactual properties of science. While modern practice has focused on the physical reality, counterfactuals are about what is possible or impossible, dealing with what could or could not be. Her book advocates for physics to move beyond its limiting concepts and employ counterfactuals as a method of assembling a more complete and expansive picture of reality.

Intellectual discourse is also morphing. Public intellectuals like Rebecca Solnit and Laurie Anderson have embraced digressive forms of communication that engage readers and listeners in a style of storytelling that is more circular than linear. Everything is connected to everything else. In writing about Solnit’s latest book, Orwell’s Roses, one reviewer clearly more at home with linearity described her style well:

It belongs in a whimsical category of its own, meandering elegantly enough through lots of subjects loosely connected to one or the other; more of a wildly overgrown essay, from which side shoots constantly emerge to snag the attention, than a book. (The Guardian)

Laurie Anderson’s recent Zoom-based Harvard Norton Lectures series is a tour de force of her inclusively digressive style. (“I digress,” she proudly asserts throughout.) In the second lecture she states, “I am talking to the part of you that does not speak.” When asked how to approach the destructive forces that are invisible to us–from social media’s distortion to massive technological systems–Anderson responded that the “engines” of what people believe have always been invisible. “If people can build so many narratives around God, they can do it with algorithms as well.”

The visual arts have also had a number of dismantlings of canonical ways. One of my favorites is Raphael Rubinstein’s 2009 essay, Provisional Painting, in which he describes artists whose work appears “casual, dashed-off, tentative, unfinished or self-cancelling.” This is an approach that feels “risky, open, unresolved,” a far cry from the market’s demand for perfect artifacts. And all of that is quite intentional.

In addition to these exploration into more sustainable and inclusive ways of seeing, expressing, sharing and understanding, there is the most serious global issue of all: climate change. The content is tangled, disputed, complex. Experts have been writing about it for years– Elizabeth Kolbert, David Wallace-Wells, Bill McKibben, Paul Hawken—and now others are joining in from other disciplines: novelist Jonathan Safran Foer (We are The Weather) industrialist Bill Gates (How to Avoid a Climate Disaster) historian Charles Mann (The Wizard and the Prophet: Two Remarkable Scientists and Their Dueling Visions to Shape Tomorrow’s World.) But the public still seems baffled, deaf to the “self terminating” behaviors that end life on this planet.

In addition to the blinding effects of fake news, anti-scientism and sheer denial, there is the fundamental difficulty of making the story feel real. As Yuval Hoah Harari (Sapiens, inter alia) pointed out:

It’s important to have human enemies in order to have a catchy story. With climate change, you don’t. Our minds didn’t evolve for this kind of story. When we evolved as hunter-gatherers, it was never the case that we could somehow change the climate in ways which were bad for us, so it’s not the kind of story that we were interested in. We were interested in the story that some people in the tribe are conspiring to kill me. So we have a narrative problem with climate change.

Gratefully he also added this hopeful sentence: “The good news is that it’s not too late or too difficult to overcome.”

How does this conversation become real? Even more profound than the shifts in perceptions regarding race and gender, climate change needs persistent exposure and airplay. Permutation after permutation. The little things add up.

In coining the term protopia, Kevin Kelly made the case that our destination is “neither utopia nor dystopia nor status quo, but protopia. Protopia is a state that is better than today than yesterday, although it might be only a little better.” The protopian process is moving forward with incremental steps. Those minor improvements are compounded, and over time a difference can be perceived.

Which brings me, finally, to the current performance of Wild: A Musical Becoming, now being staged by the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge MA.  Conceived by V (formerly Eve Ensler) the project is being brought forward with the help of a full roster of talent (Diane Paulus, Justin Tranter, Caroline Pennell, Idina Menzel, YDE.) Speaking to the audience before the production began on opening night, Director Diane Paulus did some expectation management. Musicals take a long time to develop, she said, but the team decided to go with this production as a work in progress. “The message of this production is too urgent to wait.”

The message of Wild? Climate change belongs to each of us personally, but it can only be effectively addressed through a larger collective consciousness. We are members of the earth community right alongside all living matter on the planet. Waking up to that more expanded sense of community is essential. The tone of Wild is not doom and dread, but more like that of Harari: it is not too late.

It was an evening of provisional theater, a work in progress. The staging and sets are minimal, and many of the performers had their script in hand. The music is in good shape, performed with verve and is infectiously tuneful (buttressed wonderfully by the everyday kids in the Boston Children’s Chorus.) The underlying story line is paper thin however and still needs work. The production could be described as “wildly overgrown…from which side shoots constantly emerge to snag the attention.” Provisional. In process. Moving ahead step by step.

Over the years I’ve seen many flawlessly executed theater productions, and that level of professionalism isn’t going to be disappearing any time soon. But to spend an evening in a theatrical setting where the intentionality is powerful–and so important–makes for a memorable night. Yes, this production feels “risky, open, unresolved.” But it also feels very real, and the right place to start.