|
The New
Millennium
by Gordon Francis Corbett
To separate one date from the next, we put
between them an instant of time called, "midnight."
One second after the midnight preceding 1 January
2001, we left our old millennium and entered a new
one.
First, we will ponder the old.
Journey in your minds' eyes back to 1001. The
world is in darkness: tyranny rules. Humanity knows
only two states: master and slave. They did not
know what Abraham Lincoln would later say: "As I am
not a slave, so I would not be a master"; or what
George Washington Carver said: "You can't keep a
man down unless you stay down there with him."
"Nobles," so called, waged war upon fellow
nobles, and thousands died to satisfy their power
lust. The Roman Empire was a dim memory. This was
humanity a thousand years ago.
Today, in the wake of the Reformation, the
Catholic Church competes for adherents; but in
1001, it reigned unopposed from Constantinople to
London. Fifty-three years later, a papal envoy
travelled to Santa Sophia Cathedral and laid a bull
of excommunication on its altar, splitting the
Christian Church into Western and Eastern halves.
Forty-one years after that, the Western Church
started the First Crusade.
Every so often, the Western Church would have an
inquisition. According to the Church's criteria,
these inquisitions were well-founded. Different
groups sometimes sponsored heretical ideas. But
really, these excursions into heresy, however
wrongheaded, were adventures in independence, if
not in intellectual freedom. Their object was
usually the freedom to establish "our own" tyranny.
That, at least, would have set up competing
tyrannies; but, tyrants hate competition.
In subsequent decades, in subsequent centuries,
we had the Enlightenment, which sought to strike
the shackles from the human mind. And it let people
start to think.
They started thinking: about the moon, and the
stars, and why wheels roll. They started thinking:
about a weird substance that Marco Polo brought
back from China: powdery stuff that would go poof
when touched with fire: gunpowder. They started
thinking: about physics, and metaphysics, and
ethics, and all of the things that make life today
wonderful.
We stand on the shoulders of giants: of Galileo,
and Copernicus, and Newton, and Locke, and
Jefferson, and Washington, and Donald Douglas. We
stand on the shoulders of Gustave Weisskopf, who
really made the first powered flight, and of the
Wright brothers, who changed aviation from a hobby
into a business.
Those giants could work their wonders because
the Enlightenment gave them permission to think;
before, in the early part of the past millennium, a
contrary thought was your sure ticket to the
graveyard.
The Enlightenment did not happen overnight. It
happened, step by painful step, with blood, and
tears, and sweat; but it happened. And, today, we
can think; we can do.
What will our successors do in this millennium?
They will do far more than did we who lived in the
last. That is the lesson of human progress: it
builds synergistically on achievements that have
gone before.
No one can pierce the veil and see into the
future; a glance at old issues of Popular
Science magazine proves that.
Nevertheless, there are signs of what may happen
in the next two centuries. One man's genetic map
has already been drawn. In the future, every doctor
may first map his patients' genes, so that he can
know best how to treat them. He might create that
map in his own office.
Genetic therapies may let him regulate their
biological clocks, so that they maintain the
physical age of, say, twenty-one years, and thus
escape death by what we call "old age." He will not
have to bother with disorders like nearsightedness,
Huntington's Chorea, sickle-cell anaemia, and
mental retardation; they shall already be gone.
Genetic engineering may let future mothers
decide their babies' strength, intelligence,
temperament, and even their aptitude for creating
art.
Scientists recently propelled sub-atomic
particles past the speed of light. In this
millennium, others may do that with large objects.
Such a feat could let us explore nearby planets and
journey beyond them to distant galaxies.
Whether men do such things will depend on their
ability to think and to profit from their thoughts.
The Founding Fathers designed our Constitution to
let us do both, but we have strayed from their
ideas.
A return to their philosophy will restore our
rights. A return will let us stand tall, proud, and
erect. A return will let us say, "I am: a thinker.
I am: a planner. I am: a free individual." A return
will kindle a fire in our minds, and that
brilliance will light our way to the stars in the
coming thousand years.
My greatest regret is that I shall not live to
see it.
Corbett
Archive
Enrich
your life with a book about politics and current
events...
Enrich
your political & social life with a politics or
news magazine...
|