Three Levels of Time: Anticipation, Memory and How The Soundtrack of a Life Evolves

"In passing from the past to the future, we pass from memory and reflection to observation and current practice and thence to anticipation and prediction. As usually conceived, this is a movement from the known to the unknown, from the probable to the possible, from the domain of necessity to the open realm of choice. But in fact these aspects of time and experience cannot be so neatly separated. Some part of the past is always becoming present in the future; and some part of the future is always present in the past. Instead of thinking of these three segments of time in serial order, we would do well to take the view of a mathematician like A. N. Whitehead and narrow the time band to a tenth of a second before and a tenth of a second after any present event. When one does this, one understands that the past, the present, and the future are in that living moment almost one; and, if our minds were only capable of holding these three elements together in consciousness over a wider span of time, we should deal with our problems in a more organic fashion, doing justice not merely to the succession of events but to their virtual coexistence through anticipation and memory."--Lewis Mumford (from the book Man's Role in Changing the Face of the Earth, as cited in the epigraph to Harold T. P. Hayes' book Three Levels of Time).

I first read Harold T. P. Hayes' Three Levels of Time when I was in high school; it was not an assigned text but rather a book that I read of my own volition--and it contained more insight than anything I ever encountered in a formal curriculum: the questions that Hayes asks about the origins of life and the future of the human race plus the insightful way that he deals with a variety of subjects ranging from physics to biology to ecology to philosophy are unforgettable. I love reading so much that it is difficult for me to single out just one book but--if pressed to do so--I usually cite Three Levels of Time as my favorite non-fiction book; the title refers to three interwoven stories: (1) the evolution of life on Earth (as described by various scientists interviewed by Hayes), (2) Hayes' travels around the world to interview these scientists and (3) the dramatic saga of John Vihtelic, a man who survived for more than two weeks after being trapped in his car following an accident. The bulk of the book contains Hayes' conversations with several fascinating and influential scientists, including Dr. Archie Carr, Dr. Otto Frankel, Dr. Garrett Hardin, Dr. Hugh Lamprey, Richard Leakey and Dr. Cyril Ponnamperuma; each chapter opens with a description of how the resourceful Vihtelic adapted to various challenges, so the reader gradually and simultaneously explores the evolution of life--an improbable story that took place on a global scale--while also learning about how one specific person triumphed against tremendous odds--an improbable story that took place in a ravine in Washington.

The way that Hayes' narrative seamlessly integrates so many different themes is similar to how Frank Herbert's classic novel Dune is simultaneously a bildungsroman about Paul Atreides, an allegorical tale about ecology/resource scarcity, a meditation on the nature of power/charismatic leadership and an action-packed thriller with unexpected plot twists. An attentive reader of Three Levels of Time learns a great deal about the human race's humble past, precarious present and uncertain future. It is perhaps not immediately apparent what Vihtelic's story has to do with the larger scientific and philosophical issues that Hayes addresses throughout the book but by the end the message is clear: the ingenuity and adaptability that Vihtelic demonstrated in a life-threatening situation is a small scale example of the ingenuity and adaptability that will be required for humanity to save itself and the planet. Hayes makes the reader comfortable with the sometimes complex subject matter by portraying himself as an earnest student on a journey of discovery as opposed to a pedant lecturing a class; while this is a shrewd narrative choice, I believe that Hayes understood a bit more than he suggested, much like the TV detective Columbo was two steps ahead of everyone else even though he acted like he was perpetually confused. Hayes asks entomologist Dr. Howard Ensign Evans a deceptively simple question: "Is the basic point of evolution the tendency of all organisms to move toward complexity?" Hayes self-deprecatingly describes Dr. Evans' response (p. 59): "He looks at me blankly, as though I had slept through the semester. 'The basic direction of evolution is toward adaptiveness to the environment at that particular time. No. It's not toward complexity.'" This exchange unfolds much like the way that a straight man sets up a comedian for the punch line; rather that making the reader feel uninformed, Hayes softens the blow at his own expense. The larger point is that even though human beings are very complex organisms compared to the single cell organisms that constituted the first life on Earth, the success or failure of the human race will ultimately be determined by its adaptability in the face of serious survival challenges; will humanity figure out how to feed the hungry, treat the sick, end war and live in harmony with the other life forms on Earth or will humanity become extinct like so many other species?

Three Levels of Time contains many great quotes, which is a tribute not only to the brilliance of the people who Hayes interviewed but also to Hayes' ability to ask the right questions at the right time; an interview is very much like a duet and a great answer is often the product of an insightful question. Here is what Dr. Frankel tells Hayes about humanity's future (p. 168): "This is a difficult world, and we really have stacked the cards so heavily against ourselves! Probably we have always done that, but now the system has become so complicated. In some ways maybe we'll muddle through. There is a quotation [E.F.] Schumacher has at the end of his book [Small is Beautiful]--that no problem is ever solved, but we find some way of dealing with it. Not solving it but just nibbling at it."

Dr. Hardin echoes the complexity theme (p. 180): "The basic concept of ecology is that the world is a vast, complicated, interconnected system. You can never do merely one thing, so whenever you do, you do a bunch of other things. This means that if you're concerned about the total effects of what you do, you carry out ahead of time a technology assessment--you try to predict the secondary, the tertiary effects of what you perform. You have to follow the philosophical principle of 'guilty until proven innocent.'"

Three Levels of Time instantly captured my interest with the intriguing Lewis Mumford epigraph cited above; it is not only true that our lives are delicately balanced between anticipation and memory but it is also true that our memories are constantly shaped and molded by subsequent events. Think about the soundtrack of your life, the songs that remind you of special times and/or strong emotions; your perspective about the various songs in that soundtrack evolves as new memories supplement older memories. I don't remember the first time that I heard Steely Dan's "Peg" but I know that I was very young, that it immediately became one of my favorite songs and that it has remained so ever since. Only later did I fully understand the technical mastery of the song, as detailed in this video:


The Making Of PEG by Steely Dan by righteouskarate

Prince often contrasts "real music by real musicians" with the artificial, lifeless, synthesized sounds that too many pop stars rely on now. One of the things that I most like about Prince and about Steely Dan is that they are craftsmen and perfectionists--but as a child I just enjoyed the catchy melody of "Peg" and the way that the voices and instruments are layered on top of each other. For some odd reason, a memory sticks out in my mind of "Peg" being used one time in the early 1980s on "Entertainment Tonight" as the background music when that day's celebrity birthdays were mentioned. I also remember trying to figure out exactly what the lyrics mean; what is a "pin shot" and what does the "favorite foreign movie" have to do with anything? All I grasped as a child is that the song seemed somehow simultaneously upbeat and wistful, perhaps suggesting that Peg had become a star but lost something during that process.

A new "Peg" memory formed when De La Soul sampled the "I know I'll love you better" refrain in their song "Eye Know":


Erika Klotz and I listened to the "Aja" CD during our tour of Troy, Michigan and "Peg" was one of the songs that played as we journeyed from the Lloyd A. Stage Nature Center to Barnes & Noble. Many memories and images now collide when I hear "Peg"--grooving to the song without understanding its meaning, learning more about Steely Dan and their attention to detail, hearing the De La Soul sample (which then brings to mind various memories of my high school and college years), the great "Making of 'Peg'" video and the newest memory: riding around Troy with my friend Erika (which reminds me of how much my mindset changed during the summer/fall of 2012). One song takes me on a whirlwind tour of my childhood, my young adult years and my current life; the song has always been the same, yet the ways that I perceive it (and myself) have changed over the years, as have my feelings about the various memories that flood to the surface the instant I hear those distinctive first few bars.

 "Brass in Pocket" by The Pretenders is another song that elicits a wide range of memories:



I liked the song as an eight year old when it first hit the charts, so hearing it takes me back to being a second grader--which evokes a host of both personal memories and also memories of things that were happening in the world at that time, ranging from rooting passionately for the "Kardiac Kids" Cleveland Browns team to watching Walter Cronkite talk about the Iranian hostage crisis that dominated the news for more than a year (yes, I followed international politics as an eight year old). I remember Faye Grant covering "Brass in Pocket" during an episode of "Greatest American Hero," which was one of my favorite TV shows at that time (her version is overdubbed with something random on the show's DVDs because of licensing issues). Shortly before I traveled to Michigan, I heard "Brass in Pocket" while I was working out but this time it not only conjured up childhood memories: the lyric about "driving/Detroit leaning" had a special meaning, heightening my anticipation about my upcoming trip and the experiences I might have during that weekend.

Sometimes a single word can bring forth many memories; "Ostend" used to conjure images of early 20th century chess tournaments but now it also makes me think of Marvin Gaye--and Gaye can be connected back to Three Levels of Time through his song "Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)," a powerful lament about some of the environmental issues Hayes explored:


Gaye's reference to mercury poisoning brings to mind David Seltzer's Prophecy, a novel that I read not long after I read Three Levels of Time--and the way that a train of thought can zip around from Ostend to Marvin Gaye to Harold Hayes to David Seltzer conjures up "Kull Wahad," a phrase from Dune that is translated as "I am profoundly stirred!" That phrase caught Erika's eye when I showed her the "Terminology of the Imperium" appendix in Dune, which brings everything back full circle to the memory of listening to "Peg" on the way to Barnes & Noble. Such connections between seemingly disparate memories and concepts are fascinating and add texture to one's life but, while it is fun to remember and reminisce, it is also important to savor the present moment as well:

When we're young, we dream about being old. We sit beneath trees and dream the days away. We dream about the future, about how much better it will be when we can drive, when we can get a job and spend money on whatever we want. We can't wait until our parents are no longer around to say we can't eat ice cream for dinner. We want to get out of our hometown. We want to look upon the whole world, mouth agape in ripe wonderment. But don't worry, we say, one day our lives will be so much better. One day, we tell ourselves in the shade of that tree, we will have freedom.
 
When we're old, we dream about being young. During our daily commute to work, we reminisce about the past. We look back on the days when we could afford to just dream the whole day away. As we idle in that traffic, our seatbelts slightly pinching our waist, we long for the days when our parents cooked us a hot, healthy meal every night. We miss when the cul-de-sac was the whole world, when the forest across the street was a dark, foreign land just begging to be explored. We want to look upon the world once again with mouth agape, filled with the raw wonderment of youth. What happened, we ask ourselves, our lives used to be so much simpler. What happened, we ponder in that hot car, we used to have so much freedom.

I wish that there were a time in our lives, maybe only a passing moment, when we are perfectly, fiercely content with the present; when we are looking neither backward nor forward nor inward; when we are just looking around.

The soundtrack of a life evolves as anticipation and memory combine to enrich familiar lyrics and melodies, but, even though it is exciting to think about the future and even though it can be enjoyable to reminisce about the past, it is important to be fully present in the present, to appreciate the good things in your life instead of thinking that the best has already happened or is yet to come.

"Earth Maze" Depicts "Unknown Potentialities Within Self and Nature"

After I played in the Second Annual Michigan Chess Festival, my friend Erika Klotz took a picture of me standing next to Derek Wernher's "Earth Maze" sculpture. I assumed that the inscription on the plaque next to the statue would be legible in the photo but later realized that this was not the case. However, after doing some research I found the complete text:

"EARTH MAZE"

The sculpture incorporates the circle or sphere as the symbol of unity of self as well as union between man and nature. The interior or maze portion of the sculpture is a network of interconnecting passages and spaces representative of unknown potentialities within self and nature. The opposing of smooth and rough surfaces, spherical and angular forms in the piece, are different ways of blending contradicting elements to express wholeness. "Earth Maze," which is eight feet in diameter and weighs over two tons, was created by Derek Wernher of Metamora, Michigan for the Northfield Hilton Inn.

Here is the photo of me standing in front of "Earth Maze":

Erika also took a closeup shot of the interior details of "Earth Maze":

I spent the rest of that day touring Troy, Michigan with Erika, a fun conclusion to my birthday weekend trip--a trip that represented a milestone in my ongoing efforts to change my Perspective about life.

The evocative phrase "unknown potentialities within self and nature" can be interpreted and perceived in many ways. It reminds me of, among other things, the main title sequence for the Incredible Hulk TV show:




The voice-over describes Dr. David Banner's quest to tap into "the hidden strengths that all humans have."  While the show emphasized physical strength, the greatest strength that all humans have is the strength of the human spirit--the capacity to know right from wrong, good from evil and then act on this knowledge even at the risk of suffering personal harm. After Dr. Banner's scientific experiment went awry, his physiology became permanently transformed and whenever he became "angry or outraged" he acquired the necessary physical strength to confront whatever evil or torments afflicted him. The capability to "hulk out" and wreak havoc against wrongdoers is an alluring fantasy but the show wisely depicted the downside as well: Dr. Banner had no memory of or control over his "hulk outs" and he was extremely concerned that he would harm innocent people (even though the show's viewers realized that the Incredible Hulk, though apparently simple-minded, possessed Dr. Banner's inherent goodness and gentleness). Dr. Banner futilely sought to cure himself and/or to remove himself from any situation that might cause him to "hulk out." A child might look at the Incredible Hulk and merely see someone who uses great physical strength to control his surroundings but Dr. Banner perceived the Incredible Hulk as an entity that lacked self-control, the most important kind of control; a passage in the Bhagavad Gita--quoted at the beginning of Jerzy Kosinski's National Book Award winning novel Steps--states, "For the uncontrolled there is no wisdom, nor for the uncontrolled is there the power of concentration; and for him without concentration there is no peace. And for the unpeaceful, how can there be happiness?" The control in question has nothing to do with manipulating others through the application of force (physical, verbal or otherwise) but rather controlling oneself--one's thoughts, emotions and actions. Dr. Banner lacked peace and happiness because he could not find a way to control the "raging spirit that dwells within him," a very apt metaphor for human existence on both the individual and societal levels because "raging spirit" can be observed in both mundane circumstances (a road rager's extended middle finger) and extreme circumstances (mass murder).

Dr. Banner's quest was poignantly captured by the haunting "Lonely Man Theme," played during the closing credits of each episode of the Incredible Hulk:



Bill Bixby, the actor who portrayed Dr. Banner, died of cancer a couple months before his 60th birthday. In his final interview, he displayed both the strong will and gentle spirit that he had in common with Dr. Banner, declaring that some people cease battling as soon as they hear the dreaded "C word" but that his attitude was, "You come and get me and you drag me away. But I'm not going to contribute to my own death." Bixby concluded with these touching words: "Be good to yourselves, because if you're good to yourself, then you'll be kind to everybody else. I'd sure like to see that before I die."




Being good to ourselves as a prelude to being kind to everybody else is an excellent way to express the "unity of self as well as union between man and nature" that Wernher depicted in "Earth Maze." In the concluding episode of Cosmos (titled "Who Speaks for Earth?"), Carl Sagan declares, "The civilization now in jeopardy is all humanity. As the ancient myth makers knew, we are children equally of the earth and sky. In our tenure of this planet, we have accumulated dangerous, evolutionary baggage--propensities for aggression and ritual, submission to leaders, hostility to outsiders, all of which puts our survival in some doubt. We have also acquired compassion for others, love for our children, a desire to learn from history and experience, and a great, soaring passionate intelligence--the clear tools for our continued survival and prosperity."

Perspective

I celebrated my birthday last month by treating myself to a trip to the Second Annual Michigan Chess Festival, held at the MET hotel in Troy, Michigan. I lost rating points and did not win any prize money but I will always have fond memories of my first visit to Michigan because it represented one more milestone in my evolution from a mindset based on willpower to a mindset based on what Garret Kramer calls Stillpower. Kramer emphasizes the importance of distinguishing between "life" and "life situations." Kramer explains, "Your life is a constant. While most of us think that external circumstances actually happen to us, in truth they don't. They're just happening. All life situations are just happening. Granted, we play a role in the outcome of whatever it is we face, but regardless of our role or whether we're happy or disappointed, the nature of all circumstances or results in life is unbiased. This basic understanding is essential to your quest for success." I went to Michigan with the mindset that my life is good regardless of how I perform in the tournament and that I would savor every moment of my trip regardless of what happened on or off the chess board.

Until very recently it would have been difficult for me to enjoy myself at a tournament if I did not play well--and I set a very high bar to define playing well, which can turn life into a joyless all or nothing proposition. This time I did not allow my performance to affect my mood during the weekend; although I did not play as well as I wanted to play, I learned from my two losses versus Grandmaster Ben Finegold and National Master Seth Homa, I enjoyed GM Finegold's Saturday lecture about GM Hikaru Nakamura and I had an interesting conversation about chess, poker, backgammon and other subjects with Senior Master Fred Lindsay, a bookseller who I have known since my chess career began in the 1980s (I also bought some cool items from Lindsay, including an English translation of GM Miguel Najdorf's Zurich 1953 book).

Both before and after the tournament I spent some quality time with my friend Erika Klotz, a Troy native who showed me around town. My pre-tournament mindset often involves isolating myself so that I can visualize playing well without being bothered by any distractions but in Michigan I took a different approach; I enjoyed a nice Friday dinner with Erika at Noodles & Company--I'd never been there before; the chicken soup is very good--and after the short drive back to the MET we found a quiet corner in an unoccupied ballroom so that I could teach Erika some chess basics. I have been teaching chess since 1999 but I rarely teach complete beginners so I do not have much experience showing someone how the pieces move; it is fascinating to see the game through "beginner's eyes" and this is also a good way to look at life: to perceive each moment as something new, exciting and wonderful.

Erika learned very quickly and thus was able to follow algebraic chess notation well enough to play through one of the most famous miniatures in chess history, Paul Morphy's 1858 "Opera Game" versus Count Isouard and the Duke of Brunswick:

1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 d6 3.d4 Bg4 4.dxe5 Bxf3 5.Qxf3 dxe5 6.Bc4 Nf6 7.Qb3 Qe7 8.Nc3 c6 9.Bg5 b5 10.Nxb5 cxb5 11.Bxb5+ Nbd7 12.0–0–0 Rd8 13.Rxd7 Rxd7 14.Rd1 Qe6 15.Bxd7+ Nxd7 16.Qb8+ Nxb8 17.Rd8# 1–0

The final position is a picturesque model of artistic harmony combined with brutal efficiency; Morphy sacrificed virtually his entire army in order to deliver checkmate:

Siegbert Tarrasch once said, "Chess, like love, like music, has the power to make men happy." One of the great joys of life is to savor the creations of a genius' mind and you don't have to be a genius to appreciate Mozart's music or Morphy's moves because the touchstone of genius is simplicity: think Richard Feynman and his demonstration about the O rings after the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster. Morphy's Opera Game has that touchstone of genius, so it is a pleasure to share a glimpse of that kind of genius with someone who previously did not know anything about it.

Perhaps inspired by the experience of sharing Morphy with Erika, I secured victory in my fifth round game with a nice tactical shot: in the position shown below I played ...Bh3+! If White takes the B then Black forces mate with ...Nf4+ followed by ...Qh5+ and Qf5++; White instead lost the Exchange after Kg1 and he resigned seven moves later.

Instead of lamenting the blunders that transformed my fourth round game from a win to a draw to a loss, I focused on being grateful for the opportunity to play in this fun tournament and I enjoyed finishing the event on a positive note with a crisp win.

Before I drove home on Monday, Erika showed me around Troy. We first visited the Somerset Collection in order to see the Sorvikivi Floating Stone Fountains (one of them is pictured below, courtesy of a public domain photo on Wikipedia:



The next stop on the tour of "The City of Tomorrow, Today" was the Troy Community Center, home of the Ayrton's Head sculpture that used to be located in front of Kmart's world headquarters: