A digital Dunbar

As we work towards creating a world more in sync with human nature, one of the obstacles we are going to run into is Dunbar's Number. Anthropologist Robin Dunbar and others have suggested that humans work best when they live in bands no larger 150, the limit on the number of social relationships a human mind can manage at one time.

According to Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha, authors of Sex at Dawn, with groups sizes smaller than this, there is no anonymity: everyone knows everyone else, and our behavior changes--for the better. We treat each other better. We share everything. Over this number, anonymity kicks in, and with it, all sorts of anti-social behaviors and dysfunction.

Below this number, in primitive societies, hypersocial communal living was the norm. Communism fails, say Ryan and Jetha, because of this factor. The tragedy of the commons only happens in resources with large-scale, anonymous access (overfishing, air pollution, not on the colonial greens and in the forests of primeval man, where social relationships held everyone in check.

Below this number, egalitarian, democratic governance rules. Above it, governments and power become more and more concentrated and centralized. (I seem to remember Ghandi saying something about the ideal government being at the village level.)

We've long since passed Dunbar's Number in most human settlements, and I was wondering how this problem of discord could ever be solved. Then it occurred to me: if anonymity is the problem, what if we could eliminate anonymity altogether?

I think it's happening already. Digital and online technologies are quickly making anonymity a thing of the past. Witness Justine Sacco's unfortunate Tweet in 2013. Even the brilliant Dread Pirate Roberts couldn't hide forever in the digital world.

Anonymity from oppressive, centralized governments may be a good thing, but in the modern "tribe" of society, it's really not. In a primal tribe, there was nowhere to hide, and no choice but to treat people well or be cast out. And maybe there was more trust. Maybe more kindness. More humanity. And maybe that sort of thing is not outside the realm of possibility in the modern world.

Just thinking.

Our intertwined lives

So how about a little balance to that last post about being who I am?

Because who I am has a lot to do with the relationships I've been a part of for the past few decades. And those relationships have put down roots into my own life, my own mind, and my personality.

So to imagine that who I am is somehow separate from them is a big mistake.

We are, after all, eminently social beings, perhaps only out-socialized by the ants, bees, wasps, and termites. According to Christopher Ryan, it's possible that our big brains, which many seem to think our most distiguishing characteristic, are only a consequence of our hypersociality. He goes so far as to say that our closest relative, in terms of behavior, is the bonobo, an ape known for its intensely interwoven, egalitarian communities.

And I think I've often overlooked the implications of this. While I've often seen how an individual ant or bee doesn't have much identity apart from the hive, I miss the extent to which our lives are interwoven with those we interact with.

And I doubt we can really be happy with an overly individualistic approach to the pursuit of happiness.

In short, while I'll stand by the goal of integrity, transparency, and being true to myself, I prefer my earlier approach: 

THIS is a goal worth striving for. A better match, a better fit between the world and us.

In other words, our goal has to be to help move us all forward towards greater integrity as humans, not trying to be someone entirely self-defined. I'm not entirely sure what I'm trying to say, but that's OK. Suffice it to say, we is at least as important than I, because they're intertwined.

On being myself

Integrity.

The word gets thrown out a lot, and probably means different things almost every time, so I may as well add my definition.

To me, it's about being true to yourself. It's the antonym of hypocrisy.

And it's really hard.

It's hard because there are so many pressures and forces trying to shape us into their mold: other peoples demands, expectations, and imaginations, a whole slough of rules and regulations, traditions and social mores, and our own notions of what we are supposed to be and do.

And some of them seem good--like what we're supposed to do, supposed to be. And some of the people are really important to us. And we so want to be accepted and important to others.

And the path of least resistance is to take on the shape they want us to.

And maybe this is OK sometimes.

But I think it's usually just painful. It usually just holds us down--makes us into something we really don't want to be, a shape we really just don't fit.

In a previous post, I decided this was a worthy goal: A better match, a better fit between the world and us. 

Here, I'll make it a bit more personal: A better fit between me and what I really am.

Happiness is not caring who gets the credit

Another thing I've been thinking about a lot lately is this desire for recognition. Why is it so darn important, anyway?
If making other people successful and happy is what makes us happy, then what's the point of being so worried about myself.

I watched Mingyur Rinpoche talk about this the other day, and have read about it elsewhere. Turns out, I guess, that if we focus on pursuing our own happiness, it's like chasing a phantom. But if we focus on others' happiness, what do you know, we find our own.


So here's my plan:

What I really want here is not my own fame, recognition, or even some fancy job. It's the success of my students, the piecewise, grass-roots construction of a more human education system, one that enables every student to succeed--one that's not a filter, but a fire that lights the potential in every young person.

So here's what that means: Who cares who gets the credit for anything? What's important is that new strategies are tried, and the data is faced with honesty and integrity, and the results are made known, and improvements can be made.

And further, that means focusing on my sphere of influence.  The people in my immediate sphere, my own kids, my students, my school, are the most likely to benefit from my actions. Success in my own home or classroom may not bring me more followers on Twitter, but it will be real.

Not that I won't keep sharing what I do on Twitter. I've learned a ton from the teachers and others I follow and chat with on #satchat, but really, ground zero is right here in front of me every day.

That's ground zero for the kids I have the greatest impact on.

And so, ground zero for happiness, as long as I don't care who gets the credit.