#Ethics, Action, and Really Big Objects
In my last blog post I looked at the idea of object-oriented ontology. Part of this new and novel way of seeing objects is the concept of “hyper-objects.” Hyper-objects are “things” such as “humanity” and the internet and climate change. Without noticing it, we make these into “objects” and then sit there kind of stunned by how big and complex they are.
We are accustomed to seeing large things as more than the sum of their parts, but object-oriented ontology asks — what if abstract “wholes” such as “humanity” and “nature” and “climate change” are actually less than the sum of their parts? Or — the parts are always greater than the whole?
One of the main theorists of hyper-objects is Timothy Morton. He has written several books, such as Humankind: Solidarity with Non-Human People.
You can find several of his lectures on YouTube. Morton gives several examples of hyper-objects and then considers them closely. Take married couples as an example,
A couple is a hyper-object. We even come up with names for some of them — “Brangelina” for example. But now consider this hyper-object more closely. In terms of US tax law, for example, married couples are considered one-and-a-half persons: less than two. Also notice that a couple is considerably more fragile than one person or two separate people. That’s why there’s an entire industry for marriage counseling!
But then we are also learning that individuals are not quite as solid as we once thought. What about all those microbes? Are they doing much of our thinking for us?
As Timothy Morton phrases it: “Personhood then is also in the mesh — it may look solid from a distance, but as we approach it we discover that it is full of holes.”
Now apply this way of seeing to the global climate crisis. “The global climate crisis” is a hyper-object, and “solving” “the global climate crisis,” as long as we see it as one big huge and terrible thing, is impossible. This way of thinking has led many people to despair:
“Why bother recycling?”
“Why bother reducing my meat consumption?”
“Why bother driving less and biking more?”
“I’m only one person, and this is SO big!”
But what if the huge hyper-object we call “the global climate crisis” is less than the sum of its parts?
After all, one of the reasons it has taken humanity so long to grow concerned about the global climate crisis is that the huge object we call “climate change” comes to us on only discreet events — a hurricane here, a drought there. So, what is killing people — a hurricane, or the global climate crisis?
The answer isn’t so clear.
But also notice that we can’t “fix” a hurricane or a drought. These discreet events are beyond our power. But the hyper-object “climate change”? Perhaps that can be fixed.
The United States is a hyper-object — is the United States more, less, or equal to the sum of all its parts — its people; its natural beauty; its natural resources; its animals . . . and on.
Whether or not the concept of hyper-objects is “true,” or a fact, the idea bears some thought as a way of considering huge, complex things or objects.
Do hyper-objects exist at all? What would it mean for a hyper-object such as “the global climate crisis” to exist or not exist?
This way of thinking quickly gets involved in metaphysics. Is the concept of “god” a hyper-object?
The idea of hyper-objects resonates with the older idea of fractals. Take for example the coast of Australia. We can look at a map and say, “yep, there’s Australia.” However, a map is not actually Australia. So, what is Australia?
Details are an infinite regress. There is a coast of Australia; there are people and animals; and there are quarks in Australia.
Fact is, I am imposing my own interests in what I consider to be Australia. I’m being anthropocentric.
Object-oriented ontology reveals the “othering” of . . . just about everything.
And with the non-human animals dying and the seas rising, it’s about time we figure out how to respect them.
What if we go around thinking that the whole is always less than its parts?
Then we have to start noticing the parts. And that makes real the Seventh Unitarian Universalist Principle: Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.
