In response to a recent tumbl I was asked whether is was ever OK not to worry about the “Grim Meathook Future.” The answer, I believe, is no. More importantly though, the question has finally prompted me to get on with this project. The concept of the GMF might not be the best vehicle to explain myself, but it seems to be one that works.
Some might not be familiar with this charming turn of phrase. Its centrality to what I am about to write thus merits a bit of an introduction. A fellow name Joshua Ellis, who is credited with coining the phrase explains it thusly.
I think the problem is that the future, maybe for the first time since WWII, lies on the far side of an event horizon for us, because there are so many futures possible. There’s the wetware future, the hardware future, the transhumanist future, the post-rationalist (aka fundamentalist) future.
And then there’s the future where everything just sort of keeps going on the way it has, with incremental changes, and technology is no longer the deciding factor in things. You don’t need high tech to change the world; you need Semtex and guns that were designed by a Russian soldier fifty-odd years ago.
Meanwhile, most of the people with any genuine opportunity or ability to effect global change are too busy patting each other on the back at conventions and blue-skying goofy social networking tools that are essentially useless to 95% of the world’s population, who live within fifteen feet of everyone they’ve ever known and have no need to track their fuck buddies with GPS systems.
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The upshot of all of this is that the Future gets divided; the cute, insulated future that Joi Ito and Cory Doctorow and you and I inhabit, and the grim meathook future that most of the world is facing, in which they watch their squats and under-developed fields get turned into a giant game of Counterstrike between crazy faith-ridden jihadist motherfuckers and crazy faith-ridden American redneck motherfuckers, each doing their best to turn the entire world into one type of fascist nightmare or another.
Of course, nobody really wants to talk about that future, because it’s depressing and not fun and doesn’t have Fischerspooner doing the soundtrack.
There are two things here that I take as definitive of the GMF:
- “Everything just sort of keeps going the way it has.” That is to say, there isn’t going to be some radically game-changing discontinuity between our present horizon of expectations and how things will be down the road. This isn’t a particularly radical notion, but it’s an important prophylactic against various forms of millenarian thinking, of which techno-optimism and apocalypticism are the best examples. This is not to say that things aren’t going to change—they most certainly will and that’s the point of all this—but that change will take place in this world, not one we might imagine. The Grim Meathook Future is the future that comes unannounced, the one that is basically already here, if not yet recognized as such.
- “The future gets divided; the cute, insulated future that…you and I inhabit, and the grim meathook future that most of the world is facing.” This is the more important of the two points. The Grim Meathook Future exists in a certain sort of opposition to a bright, shiny future that is reserved for what is ultimately a very small proportion of the world’s population. The interesting thing here, though, is the supposition that anyone reading the original post “inhabits” the cute future. This is true almost by definition. Writing and thinking about “issues” the way Ellis does—the way I am doing right now—is an indulgence of the Decadent, Detached future against which the Grim Meathook one is defined.
This other future—not the discontinous fanciful one, but the painfully immanent detached and decadent one—is closely related to what I intend by “hypegeist.” Like the GMF, it’s functionally already present, but is sufficiently unfamiliar, sufficiently unscrutinized to remain in something of subjective tense. Hypegeist is the emerging system of social reproduction, relevant to a small but significant minority of the world, that serves the critical function of helping one (everyone whose anyone) avoid confronting the disturbing and potentially frightening future that is descending on everyone else.
The Silicon Valley/BoingBoing version of this that Ellis alludes to is only one aspect of it. I mean to include a whole range of contexts that owe their existence to a closed circuit of self-reference. Information technology (the internet, basically, but also mobile phones, an evolved form of television and perhaps a few other things) plays an enormous role in this, but I don’t want to reduce it all to that, at least not quite yet. What I’m talking about developed along side these technologies and is not only influenced by them but is also an influence on how we use and understand them.
But why Hypegeist? Because of what happened to zeitgesit. The idea of a “spirit of the age” has come into a new sort of vogue that obliterates its meaning at the same time as the concept ascends to a new omnipresence in its total and obfuscating senselessness.
