Imagine if everyone else shared all of your beliefs and opinions? Everyone thought more
or less the same as you, agreed with you, felt the same way about how things are and should be.
We spend so much of our time and effort trying to convince others of our worldview. We invest
so much of ourselves into our worldview. This is natural and certainly understandable,
but what if we got what we wanted, and everyone saw what we saw and felt what we felt? What might
this lead to? What would this mean for everything we value and perhaps require collectively?
The following is a short story where this is taken to the extreme.
If you enjoy speculative or philosophical fiction stories like this, or my short stories in general,
I think you’ll also really enjoy my new audiobook, Millions of Little Threads.
It’s one hour long and only 3.99. It’s out now, and the link is in the description.
In the galactic planetary network of Choate, there was a planet named Sinistral where everyone
shared all the same beliefs and opinions. Inhabitants here fundamentally believed with
absolute certainty that there was no creator of the universe, that there was no divine order,
and no inherent meaning to anything. They believed only in individual,
personal meaning that they created for themselves. The government was lenient. All drugs were legal.
Everyone was allowed in—if they wanted. Laws changed every twenty years or so—which somehow
everyone always agreed on. Money was used but not a goal. Work was done but not a focus. A large
amount of the average day was spent on leisure. The government provided universal social aid,
and everyone was about the same in terms wealth and importance, or a lack thereof. Ultimately,
everyone agreed that economic growth and needing to work regularly were bad for both the individual
and the environment. There was no conflict. No debating. No disagreements. And there was no
technological progress, no focus, no collective higher purpose, no reason or filter for constant
change, no steady anchor to once good things. Over a relatively short time, unclear, ever-changing
social constructs, goals, and rules unraveled across the planet. Eventually, it turned to chaos,
and chaos turned to barrenness. A civilization with no central structure collapsed in on itself.
There was another planet not too far way, named Dextral, where here too everyone shared the same
beliefs and opinions as everyone else. Here, however, individuals unequivocally believed
that the universe was made by and under the rule of God. The government was strict. No laws
or rules were allowed to change, nor needed to. Everyone agreed on everything and no new people
were allowed in. Money and work were central, but the government was completely hands off
when it came to economic activity and social aid. There were lots of wealthy people but so,
so many more impoverished people. There was no conflict. No debating. No disagreements.
And there was no intellectual or cultural progress. Major inequality, oppression,
and injustice permeated across the planet, but all inhabitants agreed that this was natural
and fair and that everyone could reach higher status with time and effort. After not too long,
civilization reached a state of complete and total stagnation, and then, collapsed.
Too rigid of a structure could not flex with the wind of time. All but a few family lines remained.
There was another planet, named Laxial, where here everyone agreed in complete unanimity that there
was no objective truth and that everyone’s truth was equally true. This quickly posed
problems when some people’s truth was that there was in fact an objective truth. There
was no central government. No laws. No clear moral code. There was complete tolerance for everyone,
including those who were intolerant of others. Chaos ensued as soon as
the planet’s population formed, never allowing it to properly form at all.
There was another planet, named Planet 6, where here everyone worshiped logic. They
intellectualized everything. Their dogma was science. Here, they lived only according to
data and statistics. Their government was run by computer algorithms. They measured good against
evil, happiness against suffering, pleasure against pain. Not long after forming, this
planet agreed that it was immoral to continue to reproduce. It didn’t last much longer after that.
A bit further out, entering into the fringes of the Choate network, there was another planet,
named Recondite, where everyone agreed that everything was energy and vibrations guided by
the stars and planets and celestial minerals. Inhabitants here practiced crystal alchemy,
sacred geometry, and followed what the positioning of stars and celestial objects
told them based on their own interpretations, which somehow, they all always agreed on.
Love was paramount, but not much else. Time was spent meditating, lovemaking,
and consuming substances, channeling the powers of what they referred to as the one
eternal consciousness. Not much got done, though they thought they were doing everything.
Eventually, starvation and widespread illness brought the planet to its end.
Even further out into the fringes, there was another planet, named Covin, where here,
all inhabitants believed that the planetary network was run by an alien species that used and
exploited life, secretly extracting portions of each planets’ resources and offspring in order to
stay young and rich forever. All inhabitants here agreed that this underworld deep-state was at the
center of everything, pulling the strings, pushing their agenda, and planting false information and
beliefs across the network. No one had ever seen any evidence of this, or any alien underworld at
all, but they all knew it was true. Their time and effort were spent on their military, shelters,
and preparations for the great isolation. They questioned everything except themselves. Paranoia
ran rampant. Most people were alone. Sometimes what one fears is what they create for themselves.
Eventually, Covin inhabitants began to believe that their oxygen was being contaminated with
mind control chemicals by the alien deep-state elites. They avoided breathing as often as
possible. The great irony of course was that their lack of breathing and the filtration
systems and counter-chemicals they created to deal with this issue, killed them all.
Scattered across the vast planetary network were hundreds and hundreds of more planets like these,
each planets’ population forming and unifying over the same beliefs and values and perceptions,
further isolating and reinforcing their own while distancing and degrading others.
At first it was just fundamental interests and beliefs and personality traits that attracted
people to certain places. Then, it was all of the subsequent qualities and systems and experiences
that kept them there—the continual reinforcement and validation of who they were and what they
believed; the same types of products and people and activities that they liked and were like.
Ultimately, it was never about whether any planet was right or even good for anyone, but rather,
whether or not its people felt good and right. The only way different planets interacted with
each other was through centralized broadcasts that displayed across different digital platforms
unique to each planet—some far more or less receptive to outside feeds than others. However,
even the completely unfiltered broadcasts were always consumed in the context of their host
planet and host planet’s platform—with those who agreed with the individual consuming it.
Eventually, most if not all of these planets devolved into dysfunction at
best and total extinction at worst. This was the story for almost all
except one planet—the planet from which the entire network had originated from. A planet named Earth.
Those who stayed grounded on Earth, never fleeing to secluded corners of the network,
experienced conflict, disagreement, and constant unrest; but also, they experienced the fruits
of this: resolutions, intellectual innovation, technological innovation, temperance, moderation,
and openness. People who saw the universe differently, who felt things differently,
who believed different things, became friends, partners, families, of course enemies too. But
enemies keep their opponents in check in their own sort of mutually beneficial relationship.
Instead of always hoping to create a planet where everyone agreed, inhabitants of Earth worked to
co-exist and benefit from working alongside those who did not. And for as long as they did this,
they continued to function and survive just fine. The convergence of diverging ideas and beliefs
would continue to work in opposing harmony. The planet would remain fragmented together.