All of us are born shrouded in a veil of ignorance yet also conceived with the capacity for moral reasoning and the search for wisdom. But as Thoreau indecorously pointed out, “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Wandering through life in a near hedonistic somnambulism, oblivious to their surroundings and the people they encounter, they passively accept the world with a near fatalism and deference to authority. This goes beyond esoteric questions relating to understanding algorithms, how magnetic core memory in a computer works, or the arcane intricacies of Keynesianism.

For centuries theologians have described this dilemma as the concept of Original Sin, characterized by hubris, the will to power or domination, the fall of man.  At the opposite end of the philosophical spectrum lay the noted 20th century science fiction writer, Darwinian secular humanist, and Fabian socialist H. G. Wells. Both in his fiction and non-fiction works (such as The New World Order, The Outline of History, and The Open Conspiracy), Wells put forth a different vision for humanity. That scientistic vision encompassed a technocratic elite dominating an anti-capitalist future, “the freemasonry of science,” as described in his classic 1936 film version of his novel, Things To Come, where the Wellsian elitists are confronted, first by militaristic self-aggrandizing barbarian warlords, and later by Luddite reactionaries. The film best capturing Wells secular perception of Original Sin is The Man Who Could Work Miracles, about an insignificant everyman endowed with near godlike omnipotence and omniscience.

The Best of Charles Burris