I have to confess to a propensity for paradox, both in the titles of my books and of this blog. Do I mean to say that systems can be depressed or depressing? Well, both perspectives seem valid to me, depending upon their effect upon themselves or upon us. My intent here is to engage you, my reader, with a different way to adjudge our human systems and to envision the 21st century. Let me explain.

In an interconnected world, there is almost always a flipside to the most well-intentioned actions. The United Nations, for example, is a global organization involved in humanitarian and peace missions around the world. In order to meet its goals, it must identify patterns and interdependencies where its intervention or manipulation can be effective. It is a system like any of the systems with which it interacts. Naturally its purpose is to make these systems work well and serve humanity. Occasionally, however, we hear about its limitations: cost overruns, ineffective peacekeeping forces, failed peace talks, and so on. But do any of us understand what really went wrong or where the ball was dropped? We have a general idea of the U. N. as an organizational system without explicit knowledge of its inner working. There are many things on the global stage that are beyond our specific knowledge. For example, we know that Daesh is a terrorist organization that has opportunistically inserted itself into the civil unrest in Syria and that Russia has orchestrated a similarly opportunistic intervention in Crimea and Ukraine as a result of political unrest in Kiev. But do we know the specifics about what plans are being undertaken, what contending ambitions are afoot, or what various end states can be anticipated. Our lack of knowledge of how these and many other systems or organizations interrelate can be very depressing. We are at a point in history when we know more about world events than ever before without really knowing their roots or trajectory. Whether it is the U. N., a sovereign nation, or a jihadist group with a world domination ethos, the inner workings and prospects of these entities on the world stage are mainly hidden from view. As a result, it becomes problematic to predict outcomes and to avoid unintended consequences. The interaction of large systems can look like a pinball machine on steroids. For example, the interactions between the U. N., Daesh, and Russia has triggered trade sanctions, refugee crises, bombing campaigns, terrorists’ attacks, humanitarian aid shortfalls, and unprecedented suffering and destruction. And the cycle of depressed and depressing states persists both within and without these self-propelled systems on the international stage.

The same conflicted situation exists within our national borders. The United States is not only the world’s oldest democracy, but a recognized super power—militarily, financially, and technologically. Yet it would be difficult to explain how our government’s internal systems actually function. Few of us understand our tax system or the extent of our regulatory structure. We know there are billions of dollars unaccounted for in many of our systems: Medicare fraud, wasteful government contracts, unregistered military expenditures, tax evasion schemes, and so on. Systemic failures often raise unanswered questions. For example, why does it take years to repair a structurally unsound bridge, to file a mere report on water delivery systems, to revise legislation with unintended, even damaging consequences, and so on? What can be said about our national government can also be said about state and local governments. When faced with the depressive complexity of our governmental systems, we can become both perplexed and depressed. And so the same cycle of depressed and depressing system states persists on the national, state, and local governmental stage.

Now if international, national, and local governmental systems seem impenetrable, they may yet appear less opaque than the systems of behavior we experience with our family and work associates. Why does “Uncle Harry always get under my skin?” Why does the holiday meal with family tend unerringly to descend into the same adolescent contentions? Our family relations operate according to systems of behavior developed over time. These systems can be not only dysfunctional and difficult to change, but are often inscrutable and sometimes depressing as well. Even within the intimate relationships of family, we may find ourselves caught in a cycle of depressed and depressing states. In fact, if work place surveys are to be believed, many of us feel disassociated with the hierarchical structure a/o operational environment that govern our daily job performance. It can be easy to conclude that we are lost in a world of confusing complexity and governed by systems that function at all levels beyond our understanding or even awareness. And that conclusion is indeed depressing.

You may be wondering whether I have a cure for systemic depression. Well, I can offer an explanation that may make it easier to adjust to the many systems we encounter and are in fact creating. As we develop new technologies and further extend the scope of communications, our systems will become even more impenetrable to the majority of us. But there are at least two things we need to know. First, nature is a bundle of interlocking systems of which we are an integral part. It is as natural for us to create systems as it is for us to live. In fact, our physical being is no more than a collection of interdependent systems (Reference, “A Congregation of Life Forms”). The obvious remedy for systemic depression is to emulate nature—to create systems that interrelate and reinforce the natural systems in the world and within us. Second, we need to accept the uniqueness and limitations of the human perspective. We perceive the world after our own fashion, not as it presents itself to us. For example, we perceive the arrow of time as a constant, not as a variable relative to our place in a swirling and expanding universe. We also feel fixed in our place, not passengers riding a fast moving planet. In fact, even the fixed space we think we occupy is actually bent and curved in proportion to the mass of this planet. We owe Einstein for these revelations and science in general for an understanding of our perceptual boundaries. The world reflected in our eyes is no more than a construct of our brain’s neurons. And the same can be said of all our senses. We are of the stuff of the world in which we live and yet apart from it as well.

All animal species are part of and dependent upon natural systems. We, however, can also create systems, some of which have negative feedback loops, like some of those already referenced or the carbon based energy systems recently discussed in Paris. But I am an optimist, for I believe the 21st century can be a tipping point for our race. If we learn to build systems that enhance our nature, protect our environment, enable us to live in harmony with interrelated systems and with each other as people, communities and nations, we will rid ourselves of systemic depression and create a new world order. Otherwise, we will become overwhelmed with systemic depression. Correlated with this learning is the necessity to admit our subjectivity. Circumscribed by our senses and constrained by the limitations of our self-conception, we need contact with others and the world in all its complexity to help us solve the mystery of our self-isolation, our subjectivity. This mystery is the basis for that humility born of introspection and for that unbridled urge to connect. When we deny this mystery, we replace humility and the need for connection with the aphrodisiac of control and dominance, that is, of unmitigated hubris. We create systems that serve our self-interest while defying our human interest. This is the mystery at the heart of so many religions. Remember the Hindu and Buddhist prayerful bow in recognition of the divinity in another person, or Christ’s statement, “I and the Father are one,” or Mohamed’s equating of each individual with the human race as a whole, “whoso kills a soul . . . it shall be as if he has killed all mankind.” All religions beg the question Kant asked, “What is man.” Each of us is a world onto itself, with an overwhelming need to reach beyond the self, to relate to all we encounter, to identify with a world as mysterious as our very nature.

Given this nobility of spirit, how can we violate our humanity with the construction of so many ignoble systems? It is truly depressing to become victims of such systems. They can arbitrarily destroy lives and livelihoods. We should not create systems that degrade the individual human being: systems that discriminate against certain classes, ostracize individuals for their beliefs, deliver excessive punishments, or mistreat women, children, the elderly and the disabled. For each human stands alone before the world, dependent upon nature, yet independent in perception and creativity. Not one of us can be duplicated. If we learn to respect each and every individual, we will build systems that better serve our natural world and the human race as a whole.