There are many stories from the 19th century of whites who were captured by Indians, and who once they got to know the Indian way of living, preferred it to the Western way and chose not to return. This happened often, and it didn’t happen the other way round: Indians captured by whites didn’t want to stay and returned to their tribes at the earliest opportunity.
Western civilization has a lot going for it. Lower child mortality for example, and higher life expectancy. Our scientific understanding of the world, and the power and opportunity it gives us, has immeasurable value. Our horizons, in the literal and in the metaphoric sense, are wider than those of traditional societies.
Yet, many say, we pay a prize. Our communities, our sense of belonging and our freedom from financial and other types of coercion are curtailed compared to traditional Indians. We have addiction, people wasting their lives on watching screens, and high and increasing rates of chronic mental afflictions.
It’s impossible to tell how many of us today, exposed to a traditional Indian way of life, would prefer it. The reason is that this way of life has disappeared, eradicated by our own culture. If it still existed, it may look even more attractive to Westerners than it did in the 19th century.
To me, as someone rooted in Western civilization and appreciative of its achievements, this is troubling. It points to a real superiority of the Indian way of life. Not in terms of competitiveness, but in terms of how such a life is experienced by those living it.
But is it really a tradeoff? I wonder if this is really a prize we’re paying, or if there is a way to organize ourselves that combines the best of both worlds. There is no natural law that says that if one thing gets better, another thing must get worse. And even if there’s a tradeoff, it’s hardly fixed. Pareto frontiers can be shifted. That’s why it’s imperative we experiment with new ways of organizing our societies.
Nehaveigur 