Two Futures
Consumers vs Makers/Wonderers
Gingrich, forever the futurist, envisions a coming American golden age delivered by technology that must be harnessed but not constrained by the government.
“There’s going to be an explosion of innovation on a scale you can’t imagine over the next 20 years,” he said, predicting today’s 20-year-olds would live to 115 and eventual migration to the Moon and Mars, to include “Four Seasons or Ritz Maui-type space station hotels.” Politico
This is the future that optimistic Americans in our current consensus reality envision. It takes the world we have created since the Industrial Revolution and extends it out into the future. In this imagination of the future, the only thing that really counts is technological advancement.
If you’re a betting person, you’d probably be wise to put your money on the likelihood of such a future than to put it on any future I’ve been imagining in my utopian thought experiments. Nevertheless I’d argue that while parts of the Gingrich conventional view are likely, it’s unlikely to be the main story because it’s a picture of the future that most people deep down don’t really want. It’s a new iPhone. It’s just more of the same, and most people if they have any measure of sanity are sick of it. We don’t want novel; we want original—something that arises from the origins.
What’s my basis for making such an assertion? It’s implied in much of what I’ve written here, which is that people don’t want more tech; they want Reality. They are starved for Reality. Their attraction to tech is a compensation for all the ways that they are frustrated by their alienation from Reality. They settle for junk food rather than something more nourishing. The problem, of course. is that junk food for the soul abounds; it’s everywhere and easily obtained, and nourishing food is scarce. In fact, it’s something you have to make or grow for yourself. And in a society infatuated by how much stuff tech does for us, we’ve all but lost the lore for how to grow or make or to do anything for ourselves anymore. We do what we’re told to do at work, we come home, and we consume. Not all of us, but too many of us.
If the future there will be two kinds of humans—consumers and makers. Gingrich’s future continues the consumer trajectory we’ve been since the dawn of the Industrial Revolution. It’s a trajectory that has transformed societies that were maker societies into consumer societies. We have been persuaded to think that progress is making less, and consuming more. We’re nearing the terminus of that trajectory insofar as we’re creating machines that will do and make everything, and then our life will be almost completely consumptive. If we buy into the techno-optimist vision, it’s gonna be great, right? We’ll all be sitting by the pool with some robot dropping grapes in our mouths. No more grind, no more drudery—that’s the life, right? No, it’s not. It’s a bore. It ends either in Brave New World or WALL-E.
Consumption is boring—it builds nothing, makes nothing. Building and making are interesting. Making something together with others is the most interesting. At some point we’ll figure this out, and it will lead us to a renewed sense of the vita activa that is not available to us now.
You know what else is interesting? ‘Discovering’. Mostly we think about discovering as exploring the world outside of ourselves, traveling to strange and exotic places (if you can find them anymore), but the primary metaphor now for us is space exploration. The problem for me about space exploration is that once you get there, then what? That’s the main reason we stopped going to the moon. What’s the point? The cooperative effort to get there was interesting; actually getting there, not so much. It had some novelty value for about a New York second, and then…? Will it be any different when we get to Mars?
I totally get how we admire the intrepid astronaut as an icon of the questing human spirit who go boldly where none have gone before. But isn’t there a mostly unacknowledged hope that we’re going to find something out there that we can’t find here, i.e., the aforementioned Reality that we are all starved for? Didn’t find it on the moon. Won’t find it on Mars, or anywhere else out there, I’m afraid to say.
Have you seen Project Hail Mary? I don’t recommend it unless you have nothing else to do with a ten-year-old in your life. It’s essentially the story of how the Ryan Gosling character has to travel a gazillion miles into space to make a friend of a spider made out of rocks, and then they do something together. Talk about a loaded metaphor.
Real discovery is the uncovering or recovering of the connections we are no longer capable of feeling—with nature, with one another, with the spiritual world—with ourselves. And the only real path of discovery in that sense is the vita comtemplativa. What is that? It’s the practice of paying attention to the world around and within you to see what unexpected thing might show up. To use Hannah Arendt’s language, it’s an activity that “begins with ‘wonder,’ and ends (at least in Plato and Aristotle) in the speechless beholding of some unveiled truth.” It’s the unveiling of truth that we want, and we think we get that by going out there, but there’s nothing to find out there except rocks and sand unless there’s something within us that has awakened to see more. And maybe if we were better at that, we might be ready to take another trip to the Moon or go to Mars and find there something worthy of our wonder. Right now we’re not built for that.
So, sure, the future as imagined by our techno-optimists is one possibility, indeed the likely possibility if we stay on the same trajectory we’re on now. Why do I think another, better, more interesting future is possible? Because the techno-optimist future is essentially boring and nihilistic, and we hunger for more—and more, in fact, is available if we’re willing to do less consuming and more making a life together with others. That requires, imo, that we retrieve an older sense of the vita activa and the vita contemplativa in way that makes sense for the 21st Century. And neither is possible so long as we remain mostly passive consumers.
What will push us toward such a retrieval? Our finally realizing that the techno-optimist’s future is a bore, that there’s no there there. It’s more of the same no matter how novel our tech overlords try to persuade us it is. We don’t want the novel; we want the original because only that which discloses itself from the ‘origins’ is truly full of wonder. And that’s what we really want, and it’s there for us if we learn to pay attention. And if a quorum of people start paying attention in this way, they will have an impact on everyone else, and something truly original will become possible for us together.
Why am I optimistic that this might happen? I just believe that the human spirit wins in the end, and the human spirit doesn’t want the counterfeit thing that New Gingrich and Silicon Valley imagine as our future. The human spirit wants the Real Thing.


“Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby
Ain't nothing like the real thing (oh, honey)
I've got your picture hangin' on the wall
But it can't see or come to me when I call your name
I realize it's just a picture in a frame
Ooh, I read your letters when you're not near
But they don't move me and they don't groove me
Like when I hear your sweet voice whispering in my ear
Don't you know?
Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby
Ain't nothing like the real thing”
—Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing
Song by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell ‧ 1968
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The imperative lies in the interpretation.
While “Project Hail Mary”, the film, delivers plenty of hard-science problem-solving, its deeper philosophical engine maps beautifully onto an "education in thymos."
A Jack Whelan recap: In ancient Greek philosophy, thymos represents the spirited part of the soul—the seat of courage, pride, the drive for recognition, and the moral outrage that demands justice. It is the force that makes a person stand up for their dignity, but left uneducated, it can devolve into raw self-preservation, vanity, or crippling fear. As you well know!
The movie illustrates a profound education of this spirited soul through the radical empathy and friendship shared between the human schoolteacher Ryland Grace (Ryan Gosling) and the Eridian alien scientist Rocky.
The Starting Point: A Stunted Thymos
The non-linear structure of the film serves as a psychological x-ray of Grace’s thymos. As his amnesia clears, the audience learns an uncomfortable truth: Grace didn't bravely volunteer to save Earth. He was a coward. When faced with a suicide mission, his eros (the primal desire for self-preservation and comfort) overrode his sense of duty, and he had to be forced onto the ship in chains.
At the start of the film, Grace’s thymos is entirely broken. He has the intellect (logos), but he lacks the spiritual fire or moral fortitude to willingly sacrifice himself for a higher cause.
The Mirror of Empathy: Meeting Rocky
The education begins the moment Grace encounters Rocky. In a genre where first contact usually triggers violence or cold tactical calculation, directors Lord and Miller ground the interaction in pure curiosity and empathy.
* Equal Recognition: Thymos craves recognition—to be seen as an equal of worth. Grace and Rocky do not look at each other as monsters or biological specimens, but as fellow engineers fighting the same extinction-level threat. By building a shared translation matrix, they don't just bridge language; they validate each other's personhood.
* Vulnerability in Action: When Grace learns that Rocky is the sole survivor of his crew, their bond deepens from professional cooperation to profound empathy. They take turns watching over each other while sleeping, managing physical vulnerabilities, and sharing the grief of their lost crewmates. Through Rocky, Grace begins to care about a life outside of his own skin.
The Graduation of Thymos: The Ultimate Sacrifice
The climax of the movie serves as Grace's final exam in thymos. Having successfully solved the "Astrophage" crisis, Grace has enough fuel to return to Earth, survive, and claim the ultimate heroic recognition. Meanwhile, Rocky departs for his home planet, Erid, unaware that his own fuel supply has been compromised, sentencing him to starve in deep space.
When Grace realizes Rocky is doomed, his logos calculates the odds, but his educated thymos makes the decision:
The Shift: He willingly turns his ship around, burning his ticket home and sacrificing his only chance to see Earth again to save his friend.
This isn't an act of logical utility; it is an act of pure, spirited devotion. Grace’s thymos has evolved from the cowering self-preservation he displayed back on Earth into a noble, transcendent courage. He chooses a death in exile over a life of survival bought with the betrayal of his friend.
The Takeaway: By the end of Project Hail Mary, Grace's education is complete. He ends up teaching alien children on Erid, completely fulfilled. The film argues that true empathy and friendship are not soft, passive emotions; they are the active forces that refine our raw instinct for survival into genuine honor, dignity, and purpose.
They are the Real that we are lacking but possess “right here and right now” (Van Hagar) within God’s creation.
We must endeavor to be empathetic in our actions and NOT sloth in our apathy!
Pouring out in Cruciform Love!
Thanks for thinking!
IC XC NIKA