To the Editor:

There has, as of late, been a pining for ‘the simple life’, a desire which found its voice in Greg Rosenthal’s recent article. People have been harping against cars, buses, and possibly rollerblades. “One student,” a recent article tells us, “says that she has never had a driver’s license because it is not necessary and she sees it as one of many lures in society to make us believe that we need this, so that we can achieve that, and then have this, and so on. She let me know of the great joy in the sensation of going long distances by bike or by feet, getting to know our landscape at a natural, human pace.” As far as the necessity of cars is concerned, I strongly doubt that the quoted student really finds them completely superfluous; but then, I don’t know that she didn’t tote all her belongings to school in a rucksack, that she didn’t walk or bike here. But beyond this problem of (what I see as narrowminded) absolutism, the deeper issue I take with the statements made by Greg and others is their inability to recognize their own conception of what is human as a merely mental construction.

Society’s addiction to the car is criticized on the grounds that we do not really need these vehicles; that our dependence on cars is accidental to our beings, and that the inability to see cars as anything but necessary is a result of an inability to see what one really is. Later, Greg himself tells us he will “and … walk and … know what it is to be human.” Both Greg and his interviewee make statements in the article which favor biking and walking because they allow one to “get to know our landscape at a natural, human pace.” But what is it to be human? Walking is certainly human: we are built to do it. But biking? Portraying biking as ‘natural’ to humans betrays the argument’s purely subjective foundations. Why should one conception of “what it is to be human” be favored over another, simply because it is simpler? Especially simple in that it refuses to accept itself as one interpretation of human existence.

Later, Greg recounts an interview with a professor: “[the natural wonders of Maine] are everywhere around us. Do students at Bates need cars? I asked him. He told me that a bus ride to Portland every now and then should suffice.” I will grant that Maine, even Lewiston, even Bates, is filled with natural wonders; that all of nature is wonderful and beautiful; but my worldview accepts a hierarchy of beauty. The person who claims to find a sapling pine as awe-inspiring as the giants of Sequoia National Park, Mt. David on par with Mt. Everest, lies a little to themselves, I believe (but lying about anything long enough makes it true). The main point of contention is necessity. What “suffices” for human existence? Can a human being survive physically (and mentally) by living in the presence of lesser natural wonders for his or her entire life, by, in fact, restricting all travel to the point where Portland is an exotic getaway? Certainly. But that would be rather dull (until you told yourself you were accustomed to it). It has been said, says Barthes, that certain Buddhist ascetics can see an entire landscape in a grain of sand; but then perhaps this is because they didn’t ‘get out much’. If we are to base our arguments upon necessity, then a strong case could be made for a naked berries-and-water existence, for a return to the trees. What I am saying is this: we need more than we need. We need oxygen, little food, and water. We need human contact, clothing, holidays and ceremonies, and much more. A complete lack of decadence kills the conscious individual. And because these vocal minimalists are not telling us to grow tails and start practicing on jungle gyms, they draw a line somewhere between this and mindless hedonism; but why and where do they draw it?

Ostensibly, for the good of the environment and at a place which will allow humans to maintain a healthy physical and mental existence. Yet Greg and others take issue with even the speed at which people travel. Emissions are not at the root of their complaint. To (fairly arbitrarily) mark off biking as top-speed for the “human pace,” we need to understand that we risk labeling the Amish, in their horse-drawn buggies, as technophiles. The fast-paced life that Americans lead is extremely hazardous to their health. Hypertension and heart attacks bear witness to this. And yet some people bungee jump for kicks. To them, a little tension is a necessity in life. Will we denounce them for getting off on a bit of an adrenaline kick? I don’t think that fair. Will I denounce Greg and others for choosing to walk distances I would have a hard time conceiving? By no means. And they should not criticize people such as myself who see a car as necessary for the kind of life I want to live (and yet attempt to drive it in moderation). I will allow anyone to point out to me my dependencies and my extravagancies, but I would politely point to the necessity of frills. And to Greg and others, I would address the arbitrary nature of their own choices. Before identifying their weaknesses. Simply because it is necessary to identify a weakness before eradicating it, it is not necessary to eradicate a weakness once it is found; but it is necessary to identify it so the choice can be made.

John Mulligan - '06


Respond to this article

Pacing the Human: Needs, Wants and Cars