I started this post sitting in Juba International Airport, the same place where two weeks ago, I showed up as some random Indian kid trying innocently (but unsuccessfully) to blend in this foreign land (and also trying to collect the object formerly known as my suitcase). Now, after being whisked around the world over the past few days to the familiar house of my relatives in India, I'm still digesting all the life -- the conversations, trips, experiences, everything -- I've felt in the past fortnight. But, as weird as it may sound, the only thought that remains constant during my stream-of-conscious reflections is not an image or snippet of a conversation I've experienced directly, but rather a quote from a book my friend Sarah recommended that I picked up during this trip -- none other than Atlas Shrugged. Here's the quote:
Nobody can tell what the course of a country's future may be. It is not a matter of calculable trends, but a chaos subject to the rule of the moment, in which anything is possible.
Not the most remarkable two sentences ever written, but a passage that stuck with me nonetheless. As I tried to wrap my head around Ayn Rand's thought during this past week, though, I found a shred of myself defiantly resisting to accept it. I mean, most of it made sense -- that yes, no one can define the trajectory of a nation, and that yes, anything is possible. But, is the chaos she speaks of really that, well, chaotic?
As it turns out, we've spent centuries trying to discover order in a world composed of a series of random (and seemingly meaningless) interactions of complex entities with each other. But, instead of thinking about the macro-level factors that define something like a country, we've focused our efforts on understanding the behavior of the most micro-level objects that define our lives. Sound familiar? It should. We've simply called this process chemistry. The entire discipline is centered upon a fundamental idea: that with enough time, we can actually observe the "chaos" of billions of atoms colliding with each other, come to understand the inherent order subtly guiding the "chaos" we see, and then harness the "chaos" to produce a meaningful result.
It's not always simple. When combining a bunch of volatile reactants in a pot, no chemist knows precisely every interaction at any given point (just ask any Orgo kid about their percent error in lab) -- like Rand said, anything is possible. Things could be fine and dandy. Or, as my high school chemistry teacher Mr. Bibeau liked to show us, crazy shit could happen and things could blow up. But, all of this comes with a crucial caveat the Rand seems to forget: not every outcome is likely.
After throwing a bunch of random reactants in a pot and staring at it for a while, you notice something interesting: the system reaches equilibrium, meaning a certain reaction comes to dominate all the other possible interactions that could have taken place, and as a result, a certain outcome is produced that is ultimately dictated by given conditions. That's the key part: this newfound equilibrium is not just dependent on what you throw in the pot, but the environment of the pot itself -- like the temperature, or the presence of a catalyst. If these things change, then we have ourselves a ballgame -- we might shift the equilibrium, and produce more/less of the product......or, we might even create a situation where a completely different reaction starts to dominate, and produces a brand-new outcome from the same set of reactants.
If this concept holds true for the building blocks of life, then why couldn't it hold for the institutions that guide it? Just think about the larger-level, objective factors that guide the path of a country -- its history, its economic stability, its resources -- as the "reactants" of some equation. Think about the eventual outcomes -- peace, war, prosperity, collapse -- as the "product." Ayn Rand tells us there's a million different ways all those reactants could randomly interact, so there's no way to predict the product. But, aren't we forgetting something? What about those external conditions - the temperature, the catalysts - that define our equilibrium? Ah, the analog of these, my friends -- the external environment, the "temperature" of a population, the presence of "catalysts" for change -- is simply what Rand refers to as "the rule of the moment."
We've seen it happen before. This will undoubtedly come as a surprise to all of you, but I was a pretty nerdy kid in high school -- channeling my affection towards my US history textbook in order to cope with my lack of luck with the ladies (jk....sorta), spending time in 5th period daydreaming of what it must've felt like to live in Philadelphia, the hub of the world's newest capital less than one year after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. This must've been an awesome and ridiculously scary moment -- no one could have really known how this "chemical reaction" called a revolution would really work out. The challenges were serious, the probability of success dim. But, for those who valued thought, who valued action, who valued freedom -- no matter how rich or poor -- they knew this was their opportunity to define the rule of the moment. You know the rest. With a burning sense of urgency and hope, Americans joined together to raise the temperature for freedom and catalyze a revolution in the name of justice and equality for all.
That emotion used to be abstract, confined to the drab pages of a textbook. Now, after just a taste of life in Juba, I think I understand. You see, you can't let the dirt roads fool you -- they're just modern-day cobblestones, defining the humble character of this historic city. You can't let the collections of lawn-chairs scattered near roadside stands mislead you -- they're the modern-day taverns and coffee shops, where the seeds of passion, idealism, and dissent are planted and cultivated day-by-day. Don't let your eyes trick you -- Juba is the new Philadelphia. It's the world's newest beacon of hope, minted as a sovereign capital just 11 months ago. And, folks here know it, too. Even though the days may pass by slowly on this tropical paradise on the Nile, there is a palpable undercurrent of energy, of optimism, of hope.
Indeed, the challenges are enormous -- and at times, the emotion and optimism may be naive. But, there are those who have their hope grounded in the clarity of reality -- and I can prove it to you, because I've seen it manifest itself in all the people we've met over the past two weeks.
You can see it on the face of Aduei Riak, a brilliant economic and legal scholar who trained in the States after escaping insecurity years ago -- and then, when faced with the opportunity to choose any job she wanted -- returned home to commit herself to public service as one of the only women officials in the Ministry of Defense. She not only dreams of a better South Sudan, but has the savvy to realize her vision.
You can hear it in the hearty laughs of Chol Ajak, and his friends William and Malek, all members of the Sudanese diaspora who gave up the comforts of their lives (and families) in North America to leverage their talents in business in service of a bigger vision -- to create a South Sudan where anyone can follow the entrepreneurial "American" dream.
You can feel in the words of Mabior Garang and Jok Madut Jok -- one the son of the country's late national hero and director of a trendsetting international school, the other a prominent scholar working to unify the nation as a minister of culture -- as they speak with radical fervor of their shared vision of a free and equitable South Sudan. Their means to this end may be different -- one dedicating his efforts to education, the other to identity -- but the end is all the same.
It's a hope and resolve that, in many cases, draws on larger-than-life convictions. You'll realize it with a simple conversation with Dennis, a lifelong Sudanese resident and security officer at our compound, or Abei, a 3rd-year medical student serving as a clinical officer at a humanitarian relief camp. In their free time, you'll find them reciting Catholic hymns or flipping through tattered pages of the Bible, gaining the courage confront life's challenges -- such as the discontinuation of nearly every medical school in the country -- with everlasting faith.
It's also a hope and resolve that, in many cases, has been long awaited. You can tell from one glance into the eyes of hundreds of South Sudanese returnees from Khartoum and Kosti, who have somehow found a way sustain a bubbling euphoria amidst their sudden deportation into an unfamiliar land, relegated to conditions of transient squalor.
You can read hope in the actions of the foreign supporting cast, recognizing their role in empowering these individuals to help take ownership of their new land. They are strong believers in incremental change, knowing that the smallest of their actions will collectively sum to support the largest of transformations in a country that desperately needs it. You see in the ambitions of grad student Sheldon Wordwell, complementing his research in development practice by providing any assistance he can to game-changers on the ground -- whether that's coordinating the delivery of a tractor-trailer full of medical supplies to a rural clinic, or partnering with a local school to introduce an exchange program to break down barriers between "average" and "elite" in this new society. You see it in the determination of Sean Casey, Adam Levine, Pranav Shetty, and others of the International Medical Corps -- using their skills in emergency medicine to literally "stop the bleeding" of this country, paving the way for others to come in and implement long-term solutions. You see in the glint of eyes of international journalists - from Reuters to Al-Jazeera -- searching for a way to shine light o the crises of today, rooting desperately for the home team, and embracing the burden of knowledge that their perspective may dictate the response from the international community.
This is definitely not a random sample. And, it doesn't have to be. Many folks in Juba may be ambivalent about the trajectory of their country -- and for good reason, as their present suffering is not much different than before. And, while there are surely more individuals out there eager to shape history, it doesn't even matter if there aren't; my experience meeting these folks has demonstrated that hope is not an empty abstraction we attach to difficult situations to fill some type of emotional void -- rather, hope is a sensation that is the direct product of the recognition of the foundations of progress.
This type of hope is not fleeting. It does not depart at the first, second, or hundredth sign of adversity. It's a sensation that occurs when everyone comes to the same realization -- that we actually have all the pieces to make this nation great. It may be subtle, but its contagious -- and therein lies its value. Hope has the potential to transform the environment in which the reaction of this nation, or any other, is taking place. It may start with many or few, but all it needs is a critical mass -- because once that happens, the question of whether a nation will succeed shifts from one of if to one of when.
No one knows what this country will look like tomorrow, next year, or next century. The road to prosperity is long, perhaps extending for generations. But, at least right now, these people are determined to control the chaos of every moment -- on lowering the activation energy for the right reaction to proceed. They know the odds are often grim, but they're not in the business of abiding by probabilities -- they alter them. They are unafraid to raise the temperature for progress, calling for the rapid installation of political freedoms. They are the catalyzers of change, entering public service and setting lofty ambitions just like our Founding Fathers did 200-some years ago.
Time to grab your lab goggles, kids. There's a revolutionary reaction taking place down in Juba.
Nobody can tell what the course of a country's future may be. It is not a matter of calculable trends, but a chaos subject to the rule of the moment, in which anything is possible.
Not the most remarkable two sentences ever written, but a passage that stuck with me nonetheless. As I tried to wrap my head around Ayn Rand's thought during this past week, though, I found a shred of myself defiantly resisting to accept it. I mean, most of it made sense -- that yes, no one can define the trajectory of a nation, and that yes, anything is possible. But, is the chaos she speaks of really that, well, chaotic?
As it turns out, we've spent centuries trying to discover order in a world composed of a series of random (and seemingly meaningless) interactions of complex entities with each other. But, instead of thinking about the macro-level factors that define something like a country, we've focused our efforts on understanding the behavior of the most micro-level objects that define our lives. Sound familiar? It should. We've simply called this process chemistry. The entire discipline is centered upon a fundamental idea: that with enough time, we can actually observe the "chaos" of billions of atoms colliding with each other, come to understand the inherent order subtly guiding the "chaos" we see, and then harness the "chaos" to produce a meaningful result.
It's not always simple. When combining a bunch of volatile reactants in a pot, no chemist knows precisely every interaction at any given point (just ask any Orgo kid about their percent error in lab) -- like Rand said, anything is possible. Things could be fine and dandy. Or, as my high school chemistry teacher Mr. Bibeau liked to show us, crazy shit could happen and things could blow up. But, all of this comes with a crucial caveat the Rand seems to forget: not every outcome is likely.
After throwing a bunch of random reactants in a pot and staring at it for a while, you notice something interesting: the system reaches equilibrium, meaning a certain reaction comes to dominate all the other possible interactions that could have taken place, and as a result, a certain outcome is produced that is ultimately dictated by given conditions. That's the key part: this newfound equilibrium is not just dependent on what you throw in the pot, but the environment of the pot itself -- like the temperature, or the presence of a catalyst. If these things change, then we have ourselves a ballgame -- we might shift the equilibrium, and produce more/less of the product......or, we might even create a situation where a completely different reaction starts to dominate, and produces a brand-new outcome from the same set of reactants.
If this concept holds true for the building blocks of life, then why couldn't it hold for the institutions that guide it? Just think about the larger-level, objective factors that guide the path of a country -- its history, its economic stability, its resources -- as the "reactants" of some equation. Think about the eventual outcomes -- peace, war, prosperity, collapse -- as the "product." Ayn Rand tells us there's a million different ways all those reactants could randomly interact, so there's no way to predict the product. But, aren't we forgetting something? What about those external conditions - the temperature, the catalysts - that define our equilibrium? Ah, the analog of these, my friends -- the external environment, the "temperature" of a population, the presence of "catalysts" for change -- is simply what Rand refers to as "the rule of the moment."
We've seen it happen before. This will undoubtedly come as a surprise to all of you, but I was a pretty nerdy kid in high school -- channeling my affection towards my US history textbook in order to cope with my lack of luck with the ladies (jk....sorta), spending time in 5th period daydreaming of what it must've felt like to live in Philadelphia, the hub of the world's newest capital less than one year after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. This must've been an awesome and ridiculously scary moment -- no one could have really known how this "chemical reaction" called a revolution would really work out. The challenges were serious, the probability of success dim. But, for those who valued thought, who valued action, who valued freedom -- no matter how rich or poor -- they knew this was their opportunity to define the rule of the moment. You know the rest. With a burning sense of urgency and hope, Americans joined together to raise the temperature for freedom and catalyze a revolution in the name of justice and equality for all.
That emotion used to be abstract, confined to the drab pages of a textbook. Now, after just a taste of life in Juba, I think I understand. You see, you can't let the dirt roads fool you -- they're just modern-day cobblestones, defining the humble character of this historic city. You can't let the collections of lawn-chairs scattered near roadside stands mislead you -- they're the modern-day taverns and coffee shops, where the seeds of passion, idealism, and dissent are planted and cultivated day-by-day. Don't let your eyes trick you -- Juba is the new Philadelphia. It's the world's newest beacon of hope, minted as a sovereign capital just 11 months ago. And, folks here know it, too. Even though the days may pass by slowly on this tropical paradise on the Nile, there is a palpable undercurrent of energy, of optimism, of hope.
Indeed, the challenges are enormous -- and at times, the emotion and optimism may be naive. But, there are those who have their hope grounded in the clarity of reality -- and I can prove it to you, because I've seen it manifest itself in all the people we've met over the past two weeks.
You can see it on the face of Aduei Riak, a brilliant economic and legal scholar who trained in the States after escaping insecurity years ago -- and then, when faced with the opportunity to choose any job she wanted -- returned home to commit herself to public service as one of the only women officials in the Ministry of Defense. She not only dreams of a better South Sudan, but has the savvy to realize her vision.
You can hear it in the hearty laughs of Chol Ajak, and his friends William and Malek, all members of the Sudanese diaspora who gave up the comforts of their lives (and families) in North America to leverage their talents in business in service of a bigger vision -- to create a South Sudan where anyone can follow the entrepreneurial "American" dream.
You can feel in the words of Mabior Garang and Jok Madut Jok -- one the son of the country's late national hero and director of a trendsetting international school, the other a prominent scholar working to unify the nation as a minister of culture -- as they speak with radical fervor of their shared vision of a free and equitable South Sudan. Their means to this end may be different -- one dedicating his efforts to education, the other to identity -- but the end is all the same.
It's a hope and resolve that, in many cases, draws on larger-than-life convictions. You'll realize it with a simple conversation with Dennis, a lifelong Sudanese resident and security officer at our compound, or Abei, a 3rd-year medical student serving as a clinical officer at a humanitarian relief camp. In their free time, you'll find them reciting Catholic hymns or flipping through tattered pages of the Bible, gaining the courage confront life's challenges -- such as the discontinuation of nearly every medical school in the country -- with everlasting faith.
It's also a hope and resolve that, in many cases, has been long awaited. You can tell from one glance into the eyes of hundreds of South Sudanese returnees from Khartoum and Kosti, who have somehow found a way sustain a bubbling euphoria amidst their sudden deportation into an unfamiliar land, relegated to conditions of transient squalor.
You can read hope in the actions of the foreign supporting cast, recognizing their role in empowering these individuals to help take ownership of their new land. They are strong believers in incremental change, knowing that the smallest of their actions will collectively sum to support the largest of transformations in a country that desperately needs it. You see in the ambitions of grad student Sheldon Wordwell, complementing his research in development practice by providing any assistance he can to game-changers on the ground -- whether that's coordinating the delivery of a tractor-trailer full of medical supplies to a rural clinic, or partnering with a local school to introduce an exchange program to break down barriers between "average" and "elite" in this new society. You see it in the determination of Sean Casey, Adam Levine, Pranav Shetty, and others of the International Medical Corps -- using their skills in emergency medicine to literally "stop the bleeding" of this country, paving the way for others to come in and implement long-term solutions. You see in the glint of eyes of international journalists - from Reuters to Al-Jazeera -- searching for a way to shine light o the crises of today, rooting desperately for the home team, and embracing the burden of knowledge that their perspective may dictate the response from the international community.
 | |
| Sheldon and Mabior Garang |
This is definitely not a random sample. And, it doesn't have to be. Many folks in Juba may be ambivalent about the trajectory of their country -- and for good reason, as their present suffering is not much different than before. And, while there are surely more individuals out there eager to shape history, it doesn't even matter if there aren't; my experience meeting these folks has demonstrated that hope is not an empty abstraction we attach to difficult situations to fill some type of emotional void -- rather, hope is a sensation that is the direct product of the recognition of the foundations of progress.This type of hope is not fleeting. It does not depart at the first, second, or hundredth sign of adversity. It's a sensation that occurs when everyone comes to the same realization -- that we actually have all the pieces to make this nation great. It may be subtle, but its contagious -- and therein lies its value. Hope has the potential to transform the environment in which the reaction of this nation, or any other, is taking place. It may start with many or few, but all it needs is a critical mass -- because once that happens, the question of whether a nation will succeed shifts from one of if to one of when.
No one knows what this country will look like tomorrow, next year, or next century. The road to prosperity is long, perhaps extending for generations. But, at least right now, these people are determined to control the chaos of every moment -- on lowering the activation energy for the right reaction to proceed. They know the odds are often grim, but they're not in the business of abiding by probabilities -- they alter them. They are unafraid to raise the temperature for progress, calling for the rapid installation of political freedoms. They are the catalyzers of change, entering public service and setting lofty ambitions just like our Founding Fathers did 200-some years ago.
Time to grab your lab goggles, kids. There's a revolutionary reaction taking place down in Juba.
Sanjay you are an excellent writer! Awesome final piece
ReplyDeleteBeautiful analysis Sanjay. Thank you thank you. As I started reading it the liberal inside me saw Ayn Rand and thought, "What the hell is she doing here?" haha but that quote was a great introduction to your essay. I love the chemistry metaphor. You cite inspiring, educated leaders as the catalyst to change and progress within the country- I'm curious about your opinion on other factors in the equation, most notably institutions? The founding fathers succeeded in America not necessarily because of their courageousness and intelligence. But, the historical conditions in the U.S where Spanish colonial systems were impossible and all of the resulting events led to a value system where our leaders had this crazy idea to have a government that was accountable and responsive to citizens- and operating in the interests of the masses. This is a crucial element we've seen lacking in many stalling developing countries, especially here in Uganda where MPs and other members of the government by and large rule to secure the money along the ruling class. I know little about South Sudanese politics but with the riches of oil tempting government officials will we see another set of institutions that secures wealth among the ruling. (I saw the President has called on corrupt officials to return money to an account in Kenya?) Or do you think, that like in American Revolutionary times there is an ideal system that is strong enough to build institutions in the interests of the masses. We've seen it done recently in Botswana so it's possible. Is that element part of the equation here?! Are South Sudanese institutions being built in the interests of the masses?
ReplyDelete