Consonance

“We came to refer to it as consonance. A perfect unity of thought and action, between individuals and society, and society and environment.

It wasn’t always so. In the past, individualism ruled. The pursuit of individual achievement, at the expense of the environment and community. For every big winner, there was a thousand losers. For every billionaire, millions working under minimum wage. Capitalist propaganda, couched in concepts such as agency, freedom and individual rights, as opposed to empathy and fairness. 10 billion people, pulling in every direction, all wanting to win.

It all changed with the advent of gene therapy. After the eugenics debates of the late 21st century, gene therapies advanced rapidly. We were healthier and lived longer, but kept on breeding. The increased population ravaged the planet. We were ants crawling on the ant hill.”

The lecturer paused in his recitation, and took a sip of “tea” from the mug on the podium. Hundreds of rapt faces stared back at him, some online from their homes shown on screen, a few hundred in the lecture hall.

“The discovery of the CofD Gene changed everything. Can anyone tell me why it is called the CofD gene?” several hands shot up. Eager beavers, he could feel their desire for approval beating at him, he chose one at random.

“Because the gene was discovered in a small genetic laboratory in Scotland, it comes from the Scots Gaelic word co-fhaireachdainn, which means empathy.”

“Correct.” Another swig of his hard tea. Someone had read ahead in the textbook.

“Although empathy is an inaccurate description. The gene does not affect the emotional state, it is an enhancement of the senses. Most humans, with the exception of those with social-emotional agnosia or other disorders, are born with an ability to detect the emotions of others. Babies are able to sense when their mothers are upset, through a complex set of biological cues. The CofD dramatically enhances and expands this faculty. Can anyone tell me what happened after the discovery?”

More hands. Before he could pick a student to answer, a voice called from the back, “We homiformed ourselves.” A few students sniggered, falling silent as the lecturer squinted into the dim hall with renewed interest.

“Correct. We were unable to successfully terraform the planet to keep up with our changing needs as a species, so we changed ourselves instead. Considerably easier, with just the activation of a single gene.” He could feel the students’ interest and vague anxiety – this was not the accepted rationale for the introduction of CofD, which was usually couched in pseudo-moral terms.

“It was straight up survival – we were killing ourselves and the planet, and something needed to change. So, we introduced a gene to enhance our ability to understand what others were feeling, in the hopes that improved empathy would bring peace. It worked beyond our wildest dreams. Let us do a demonstration.”

Carrying his mug, he wandered the front of the stage and considered the students sitting there – rows of keen young minds in a range of colourful jumpsuits like jewel toned birds. Picking one at random, “You there, what am I feeling?” The student smiled nervously – it was rude to call out someone’s inner emotions.

“Go on, I don’t mind.” The girl he had singled out peered at him, “You, you’re sad. Deep down sad. And bored – you resent being here.” She half smiled, “And you like the student that called out earlier. You think they are interesting.”

The lecturer nodded, “Very good. And now this.” The lecturer brought out a beautiful fern plant. It was lush and green, overflowing the pot, and placed it on a table.

“This is Fern the Fern” he smiled at his own joke. “I play music to Fern every day. She’s partial to Jazz.”

The lecturer pressed a small remote, and gentle Jazz began to pipe in from the sound system. The audience sighed as they felt the little fern stretch and buzz with the vibration of the music. “Plants thrive when they listen to music between 115Hz and 250Hz.” Look what happens when I change the tune; angry death metal music poured out, and the students winced. “She doesn’t like it at all.” He stopped the music, and gently stroked the little fern as the students relaxed.

“That, ladies and gentlemen, is the impact of CofD. With one simple change, we could no longer discriminately damage our planet, because we could feel it. The pain, the loss, it was staggering. Who can tell me the % death rate of the first generation?” The students were silent this time.

“25%. A quarter of the population could not stomach feeling the Earth’s pain all around them. We lost them to depression, suicide, strokes and heart attacks by the droves. Every family had a story.”

He held up a small heart shaped locket, it was ancient. Opening it, it concertinaed out and he showed the contents to the camera that projected its image on the large screen – it held a series of tiny pictures. “This is my great grandmother.” He shuffled through the pictures, “And these are her brothers.” He motioned to the pictures in turn. “And this blank one here? This is for her sister. Who died in the first generation from a massive aneurism during an Australian bushfire – she simply could not cope with the pain of the loss of the outback wildlife.” The students were silent, enraptured.

“Why did we continue with the therapy when so many died?” the Lecturer prompted.

The voice from the back called out from the darkness again “Because it was the right thing to do. Those that survived were more moral. They began to look after the environment. We formed a cohesive society, based on a deep understanding of everyone’s beliefs. Empathy breeds compassion which is the basis for mutual co-operation. Empathy is social glue, making us more self-aware and considerate of others.”

The lecturer shook his head in disgust at such an obvious answer – he’d expected better from that one. “Morality is a religious concept, or at best a social construct based on an agreed set of rules. Empathy on the other hand, boils everything down to a certain question – how would I feel if X was done to me? Except it was no longer a hypothetical, we could actually feel how others felt about our actions. We built a society that self-corrected based on others reactions.” The students nodded, this was back on safe ground; accepted knowledge that society itself was self-correcting and therefore right; by implication what was right was what was accepted by society.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the basis of our consonance. A harmony of thought or purpose. Society itself, through our collective empathy, determines what is acceptable behaviour.” He paused, letting them fill with a confident sense of purpose, before pushing on.

“What if society is wrong? Over time society’s views of right and wrong drift. Less than a hundred years ago it was considered wrong to be love someone of your own gender, when we now know this is a part of any eco-structure. Hundreds of years before that, it was considered socially acceptable to marry children as young as 13, when we now know that this is harmful to their development. What happens to those individuals that hold thoughts or views that run contrary to society? They cannot hide, not when you could feel everyone’s disgust and disapproval of your behaviour and values.”

“But we don’t think like that anymore.” The voice from the back argued. “Those stereotypes have fallen away; the only rule now is do what you want, unless it harms others or the environment.”

“Do you truly believe that those individuals don’t exist anymore? That everyone blissfully harmonises with society? There is standard deviation in any system; all life is a spectrum. It is impossible for a species to be entirely homogenous, or there is no room for mutation which is the basis of evolution.”

Another long pause.

“I can feel you all avoiding the question, and I know it is uncomfortable, but this is an essential point. Do you think, theoretically, that these people exist? Show of hands, who agrees.” Slowly, as the students realised that they may never get free for lunch break if they didn’t answer, they gradually put their hands up. Eventually, all the students had their hands in the air.

“If we follow this thought process to its logical conclusion, what should be done to those people? Should they be allowed to live in our community, causing ripples of dissatisfaction? Disrupting harmony?” The students pondered this question, and gradually he felt their growing harmony. The community of students came to a conclusion, the same one that society had come to hundreds of years before. People that did not conform to the consonance had to go. In their collective thoughts, he felt the hint of savagery in their minds, an echo of distant less evolved ancestors.

The lunch bell rang, breaking the spell.

“Congratulations, you have completed your first class in Contemporary Political Philosophy. Next class, we will consider appropriate sanctions for individuals that do not adhere to the consonance. Remember to sign up for fresher week outside.”

As the class filed out and he signed out of the online lecture, the voice from the darkness wandered down the podium. He turned to her, assessing. “Don’t you think you were a bit obvious?” he asked her, her insignia glinting against her black uniform tunic. “Nah, these newbies need a nudge to head in the right direction.”

“Did you have the harmoniser on during the whole lecture?” she nodded. “How much adjustment did you need to do?”

“Nearly 20%, with about 5% deviant thought patterns. It wasn’t so bad this year. No one challenged you outright, which bodes well for their chances of surviving. I’ve set your words to reoccur during their sleep routine to reinforce the messaging.” The lecturer nodded again, and pulled out a flask from his tunic jacket – “tea?”

“Not on the job. Gotta go, other classes to go to.”