IMPACT COMMUNICATION
AND INNOVATION
AND INNOVATION
On the same day I celebrated my 28th birthday this year, a long-time friend brought up the short story The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas by Ursula K. Le Guin, a science fiction and fantasy author who passed away in January of this year.
This friend, who is a doctoral student in philosophy and teaches philosophy combined with science fiction narratives, introduced this text to his students to discuss moral issues that, incidentally, had been addressed previously by Dostoevsky in The Brothers Karamazov, and also by William James in The Moral Philosopher and the Moral Life, although Le Guin did not directly associate these references when writing this story published in 1973.
Broadly speaking, the story presents a society where everyone is happy, healthy, and produces beautiful art, cutting-edge science, and technology. However, for Omelas to be this way, it is necessary to keep a child locked in a dark basement, naked and malnourished. And it is not as if this were a secret kept by a few people: in reality, all the residents of Omelas are introduced to the child's conditions when they are eight or twelve years old, old enough to understand the situation. Yet, as the narrator describes, it is not uncommon for adults to visit the dungeon with some frequency.
When introduced to the incarcerated child's situation, the adolescents are furious, sad, and inconsolable, even in the face of all the explanations given to justify such a procedure. Upon returning home, however, these adolescents begin to reflect on how they could change the prisoner's situation and, over time, they understand that if the child were freed, then all the happiness and prosperity of Omelas would also disappear, and with that, the child would not have much to enjoy outside of their prison. Furthermore, over time, these adolescents and adults begin to believe that even if the child were freed, they would never be able to readapt to the world due to the trauma of their imprisonment: even if nourished and comfortable, the psychological damage would never allow the child to have a truly full life.
The discussion among my friends focused on the relativism of what is right and what is wrong—that is, whether we should accept certain rites and cultural practices as right because they are part of how a society functions, or whether we should judge them as incorrect because they end up causing harm or go against "universal principles." This includes everything from the age-old practice of clitoridectomy performed by communities in Africa, the Middle East, and Southeast Asia, to religious rules that affect how the faithful dress, for example. Among my friends, there was a consensus that we should indeed judge these practices as right or wrong according to some universal principle, but the reason I bring this story to this week's text is to draw attention to the price we pay for our happiness at the expense of others and how well we can deal with the knowledge of this issue.
That is, to what extent are we affected by the knowledge of sweatshops? To what extent do we change how we consume products from a certain brand after discovering the precarious conditions offered to its workers? To what extent do we stop eating meat after watching a documentary about animal abuse and the way they are slaughtered?
In Le Guin's story, the author ends by commenting that, at times, there are some people who, after seeing the child's condition, spend days in silence and, finally, go out at night wandering the empty streets of Omelas, illuminated only by the lights from the windows of houses where families enjoy their comfort and dinner. They leave Omelas, but it is not well known what lies beyond that place. It is not known where they go or what they are looking for, but everything indicates that those who leave Omelas know very well where they are going and the difficulties they will face: above all, they no longer want to be complicit in that logic.
It is in this sense that activism and taking a stand also go. Stopping buying clothes from a fast-fashion store, present in every mall and with undoubtedly lower prices, is complicated. Researching alternatives, paying the price for more sustainable products, thinking hard before buying anything, and being aware of all the waste one produces: all of this demands a lot, and it is for this reason that many end up preferring to stay in Omelas, enjoying their stylish wardrobe, their incredible barbecue, and their brand-new smartphone. Furthermore, for mental health reasons, staying stable as an individual becomes a much higher (and perhaps even more difficult) priority than dwelling on universal issues.
On the other hand, our discourse has also been very oriented toward blaming the consumer, when, in fact, it was not they who asked for the logic of production to become what it is today. As we learned from the research by Box1824 on LowsumerismWith the Industrial Revolution and the development of technology, producing consumer goods became cheaper and more efficient. However, for these goods to be consumed, people needed to be stimulated through advertising, easier access to credit, and aspirational messaging that equated happiness with consumption. Certain habits and possessions only became desirable today because of the narrative behind them, not because they are truly capable of providing more happiness or are, ultimately, useful and effective.
Therefore, more than just leaving Omelas, we need to reevaluate what happiness really is and whether it is worth the price paid by other lives, human or otherwise. We must question those who established this logic: in Le Guin's short story, we are not given an explanation as to why children must be locked away so that everyone else can be happy. In our world, however, it is very possible to dig into the reasons why we have certain destructive habits—no matter how absurd or Kafkaesque that may turn out to be.
And when we ask ourselves if there is room for everyone in this imaginary future of abundance, flying cars, and realistic androids, we also ask: is this the future we need or the one we want? Do we all really dream of a future where we have access to a vacation package to Mars, or would we be happier if we could first manage to provide basic sanitation for all Brazilians?
By redefining our priorities and acting systematically, perhaps we can leave Omelas or find happiness in a context other than one provided by the suffering of others and artificial ideals that have nothing to do with satisfying our desires and needs, but are instead hollow creations that sustain a logic of consumption without meaning or purpose.
