Time Machine (6)

"Emotions can also be a form of time travel. How does nostalgia transport you to a different time? How does anticipation propel you into the future?" the time traveller moved on. "Consider also humanity's collective journey through time. Events overview that have shaped human history—wars, discoveries, revolutions, and movements. A timeline mural could be a powerful way to depict our shared past and future aspirations.

Nostalgia is a powerful emotion that transports us back to specific moments in our past. It is often triggered by sensory experiences such as a familiar scent, a piece of music, or an old photograph. When we experience nostalgia, we're essentially travelling back in time to relive those cherished memories, evoking feelings of warmth, happiness, and sometimes bittersweet longing.

The opposite of Nostalgia is Anticipation. Anticipation propels us forward, as we imagine and prepare for future events. This emotion is often characterized by excitement, hope, and sometimes anxiety. Anticipation is our way of mentally and emotionally travelling to a future moment, envisioning the possibilities and outcomes.

In The Psychology of Time Perception (2016, Palgrave Macmillan), John Wearden discusses how our internal clock-based models of time perception are influenced by cognitive processes and emotional states. Strong emotions, whether positive or negative, can distort our perception of time. For example, time may seem to fly by when we're having fun or drag on when we're bored or anxious. This phenomenon is often called 'time dilation' or 'time compression.'

Our memories are closely tied to our emotions. Events that evoke strong emotions are often remembered more vividly and can seem to have lasted longer than they did. This can create a subjective sense that time has passed differently for emotionally charged events compared to neutral ones. Emotions can affect our level of attention, which in turn influences our perception of time. When we're highly focused on an emotional experience, we may lose track of time, leading to a distorted sense of its passage.

Wearden also explores how cognitive processes interact with emotions to shape our sense of time. For instance, our expectations and predictions about future events can influence how we perceive the passage of time. If we anticipate something eagerly, time may seem to drag until it happens, whereas if we dread an event, time may seem to speed up as we approach it.

In summary, emotions and cognition are deeply intertwined in shaping our perception of time. Understanding this relationship can help us appreciate why time seems to move differently in various situations and how our emotional experiences leave lasting impressions on our sense of time.

According to 'Why Life Speeds Up as You Get Older: How Memory Shapes Our Past' by Douwe Draaisma (2004, Cambridge University Press), our memories and the way we recall past events significantly influence our perception of time, especially as we age.

As we age, our memories tend to become more compressed. Significant events from our distant past can seem as vivid and real as recent occurrences. This compression can make it feel like time is speeding up because fewer new memories are being formed compared to earlier in life.

Older adults often remember events that are emotionally charged or significant, while less important details fade. This selective memory can create a sense of time passing quickly because the most memorable moments stand out more prominently. We construct narratives of our lives, and these stories shape how we perceive time. As we age, we may focus more on the overarching story of our lives rather than individual moments, which can make time seem to pass more rapidly.

Draaisma discusses the idea that as we get older, each year represents a smaller proportion of our total life span. For example, a year at age 5 is a significant portion of one's life, but at age 50, it's a much smaller fraction. This proportional change can make time feel like it's speeding up.

Draaisma's exploration of autobiographical memory provides valuable insights into why time seems to accelerate as we age. By understanding how our memories shape our perception of time, we can gain a deeper appreciation for the way our minds construct our personal timelines.

In Mindset: Changing the Way You Think to Fulfill Your Potential (2006, Random House), Dr. Carol S. Dweck explores the concept of "fixed" versus "growth" mindsets and how these perspectives influence personal and professional success.

People with a fixed mindset believe that abilities, intelligence, and talents are static and unchangeable. They think success is a reflection of innate talent rather than effort or learning. They often avoid challenges to protect their self-esteem and fear failure because it confirms their limitations.

People with a growth mindset believe that abilities and intelligence can be developed through effort, learning, and persistence. They think, 'I can improve with effort and strategy.' Challenges are opportunities to grow. Failure is viewed as a chance to learn and improve, not a measure of self-worth.

According to Dweck, praise or criticism during childhood can shape one's mindset. For instance, praising effort encourages a growth mindset, while praising innate ability fosters a fixed mindset. People differ in how they perceive challenges, setbacks, and effort. Schools, workplaces, and social settings may emphasize performance (fixed mindset) over learning (growth mindset), shaping individuals accordingly. Internal dialogues influence how people approach obstacles and setbacks.

People with a fixed mindset may perceive time as something finite and rigid, emphasizing immediate results. They often fear "wasting time" on efforts that might not yield success quickly, as they equate failure with a permanent lack of ability. They might dwell on past failures or focus on preserving their current image of competence, avoiding future risks that require prolonged effort. A fixed mindset might lead someone to avoid challenges if they don't see an immediate payoff, viewing time spent struggling as a sign of failure. In environments with a fixed mindset (e.g., performance-oriented workplaces or schools), the perception of time may emphasize short-term results and deadlines, discouraging the iterative process of learning.

Those with a growth mindset view time as an ally in development. They believe that effort and learning accumulate over time, leading to improvement. Growth-minded individuals are more likely to invest in long-term goals, understanding that success and mastery are gradual processes that require patience and sustained effort. Growth-oriented environments value time for reflection, experimentation, and incremental progress, reinforcing the idea that effort over time yields improvement.

Dweck emphasizes that it's never too late to shift from a fixed to a growth mindset. This belief ties to the perception of time as open-ended and full of opportunities for reinvention and growth. Mindsets influence how people perceive time, and vice versa. A fixed mindset can lead to a constrained, short-term view of time, while a growth mindset opens up the perception of time as a continuum for development and potential. Embracing the latter allows individuals to navigate challenges with resilience and optimism, fully utilizing the opportunities time provides.

Dweck presents two distinct interpretations of 'failure,' depending on whether an individual has a fixed mindset or a growth mindset. In a fixed mindset, failure is seen as a reflection of a person's inherent limitations or inadequacies. People with a fixed mindset view failure as evidence that they are not smart, talented, or capable. It often leads to feelings of shame, avoidance of challenges, and a fear of taking risks to protect one's self-image. Failure is final and personal, not something that can be improved or learned from.

In a Growth Mindset, failure is viewed as a natural part of the learning process and an opportunity for growth. It is not seen as a measure of a person's worth but as feedback on how to improve. People with a growth mindset see failure as temporary and as a stepping stone to mastery and success. They embrace failure as a necessary part of achieving long-term goals.

Dweck references successful individuals like Edison, who famously reframed his failures as experiments leading to success ('I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work'). This is emblematic of the growth mindset's approach to failure. In studies, students praised for their effort (growth mindset) handled failure better and persevered, whereas those praised for innate ability (fixed mindset) often gave up when faced with failure. So, in the fixed mindset, failure is a dead end—a confirmation of inability. In the growth mindset, failure is a learning opportunity—a chance to refine, adjust, and grow.

Dweck challenges conventional beliefs about ability and accomplishment through her research on mindsets. Dweck asserts that abilities are not static traits you're born with. Instead, they can be cultivated and expanded through effort, learning, and persistence. She draws on psychological and neuroscientific evidence to show that the brain can grow and change with experience, reinforcing the idea that people can improve their abilities over time. Effort, practice, and resilience are the primary drivers of accomplishment, not just talent or natural intelligence. While innate ability can provide an advantage, it is not the sole determinant of success. Overemphasizing talent can lead to complacency (in a fixed mindset) or fear of failure.

Dweck argues that failure is a natural part of progress. Facing challenges, making mistakes, and learning from them are essential for improvement. Accomplishment stems from a willingness to tackle difficult tasks and persevere through obstacles, viewing them as opportunities for growth.

Dweck encourages us to reframe our understanding of failure, seeing it not as a verdict on their abilities but as an essential part of personal and professional development. A fixed mindset can stifle progress by leading individuals to avoid challenges or give up when faced with difficulty. Conversely, a growth mindset fosters resilience, adaptability, and innovation. Believing in the potential for improvement is crucial. Those who adopt a growth mindset see effort as a pathway to mastery. True achievement comes from consistent effort and a focus on learning, not from trying to prove oneself through outcomes. Accomplishment built on growth and persistence tends to be more enduring than success reliant solely on raw talent or luck. Success is not about who you are but about who you can become. By adopting a growth mindset, people can unlock their potential, overcome limitations, and achieve greater heights than they ever thought possible.

Abstract art is uniquely suited to expressing these emotional journeys, as it allows for a wide range of interpretations and personal connections. By exploring and expressing these emotional journeys through abstract art, you can create a powerful visual representation of the way emotions connect us to different points in time. This approach not only allows for personal reflection but also invites viewers to connect with their own emotional experiences.

We will continue our discussion after all the fireworks have been released. Biidhnillah."

[Session 7]

[Session 5]

Bahasa

Time Machine (5)

"If you could alter a moment in time, should you? What are the potential consequences?" the time traveller made inquiries. "The allure of changing a moment in time is a captivating idea often explored in literature, film, and philosophical discussions. The thought of erasing past mistakes or reliving joyous moments presents a tantalizing fantasy. However, the question of whether we should alter a moment in time—and the potential consequences of doing so—deserves careful consideration.

One of the most profound concepts to consider is the butterfly effect, a term popularized by meteorologist Edward Lorenz. The butterfly effect was discussed in Lorenz’s 1963 paper, 'Deterministic Nonperiodic Flow' published in the Journal of the Atmospheric Sciences. This paper laid the groundwork for chaos theory. Lorenz elaborated on this in his work 'The Essence of Chaos' (1993), where he explains chaos theory and its implications in various fields.

In Part 1 of The Essence of Chaos, Edward Lorenz introduces the fundamental concepts of chaos theory, its historical context, and its implications. He frames chaos as a phenomenon present in many natural and man-made systems, characterized by deterministic rules that nonetheless produce unpredictable and seemingly random outcomes.

Chaos occurs in deterministic systems where the future behaviour of the system is entirely governed by its initial conditions and mathematical rules. However, due to extreme sensitivity to initial conditions, long-term predictions become impossible, even with accurate models. Chaos arises in nonlinear systems, where small changes in input can lead to disproportionate and complex changes in output. Unlike linear systems, where effects are proportional to causes, chaotic systems exhibit amplifications or cascades of effects. While chaotic systems appear random and unpredictable, they follow underlying patterns and rules. For example, strange attractors, fractals, and other geometric structures are often embedded in chaotic systems. Lorenz emphasizes that chaos is not limited to weather systems but is found across disciplines, such as physics, biology, economics, and even traffic flows.

Then why is Chaos important according to Lorenz? Chaos theory challenges the long-held assumption in science that deterministic systems are inherently predictable if initial conditions are known. Lorenz shows that this predictability has limits due to the amplification of small errors. Lorenz argues that chaos has profound implications across disciplines. Understanding chaotic systems can improve our grasp of phenomena such as climate change, population dynamics, and financial markets. Chaos represents a shift from focusing on exact solutions to embracing approximate, qualitative descriptions. It highlights the complexity of real-world systems and the need for new tools to study them.

In summary, Chaos is deterministic but unpredictable, governed by nonlinear dynamics. Small changes in initial conditions can lead to vastly different outcomes. Chaos is present in a wide range of natural and artificial systems. It challenges traditional notions of scientific predictability and control.

As for the butterfly effect, it suggests that small changes in initial conditions can lead to vastly different outcomes. In the context of time travel, altering a single moment could have unforeseen and far-reaching consequences. A seemingly insignificant change—such as a chance meeting or a minor decision—could ripple through time, altering the course of history in unpredictable ways.

Lorenz discovered this phenomenon while running simulations on a weather model. In one experiment, he rounded a number slightly (from 0.506127 to 0.506) and reran the model. Surprisingly, this small change in initial conditions resulted in dramatically different weather predictions. This highlighted the sensitivity of complex systems to tiny variations.

The term 'butterfly effect' comes from the metaphorical example Lorenz gave: a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil could set off a tornado in Texas. It emphasizes that even minuscule changes can ripple through a system, creating significant effects over time.

Why does the Butterfly Effect matter? The butterfly effect challenges traditional deterministic views that small causes always produce small effects. Instead, it shows that certain systems are inherently chaotic, where prediction is limited by the precision of the initial conditions. This concept has applications in various fields such as Weather Forecasting, it highlights limitations in long-term weather prediction. In Economics, it explains volatility in markets. in Ecology, it demonstrates how small changes can impact ecosystems. In essence, the butterfly effect emphasizes the profound implications of interconnectedness and the sensitivity of systems to initial conditions, reshaping how we understand complexity in our world.

Altering a moment in time also raises significant ethical questions. Would it be morally right to change the past, even if it resulted in a better outcome for oneself? Consider the potential impact on others. Changing a personal failure to success might benefit the individual but could have unintended negative consequences for others who were affected by the original event. This ethical quandary is often illustrated in stories where the protagonist must weigh personal gain against the potential harm to others.

Ethical dilemmas are situations where a person faces a choice between two or more conflicting moral imperatives, and none of the options seem entirely right or wrong. These dilemmas often require deep analysis and critical thinking, as they involve profound moral, ethical, or philosophical questions. Immanuel Kant said, 'Act only according to that maxim whereby you can, at the same time, will that it should become a universal law.' Kantian ethics, or deontological ethics, focuses on duty and adherence to rules. Kant posited that actions are morally right if they are under a moral rule or principle, irrespective of the consequences. For example, Kant would argue that lying is always wrong, even if it leads to a better outcome In the context of altering time, Kant might argue that changing a past event to avoid moral wrongdoing could be inherently wrong if it violates a moral principle.

'Actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness; wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness,' said John Stuart Mill, a proponent of utilitarianism. He would emphasize the consequences of altering a moment in time. He would argue that if the change maximizes overall happiness and reduces suffering, it could be considered ethically permissible.

Friedrich Nietzsche challenged conventional moral values and emphasized the importance of individual will and creativity. He might view altering a moment in time as a demonstration of personal power and self-overcoming. However, he would also caution against the hubris of assuming one can control the complex web of causality. He said, 'One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.'

Comedians often explore ethical dilemmas in a humorous and relatable way, shedding light on the complexities of moral decisions. George Carlin, known for his sharp wit and social commentary, often tackled ethical issues with a blend of humour and insight. He might jest about the absurdity of trying to fix every little mistake in life, highlighting how such attempts could create more chaos. He says, 'Just cause you got the monkey off your back doesn’t mean the circus has left town.'

Ricky Gervais often tackles ethical issues with a blend of humour and sharp critique. 'I'd rather live in a world where I was allowed to make the occasional mistake and learn from it than in a world where everything was fixed for me and I never grew,' says he. He might use a time travel scenario to highlight the ethical absurdities of trying to create a perfect life.

Exploring the ethical dilemmas of altering a moment in time through the lenses of both philosophers and comedians provides a rich, multifaceted perspective. Philosophers offer deep, analytical insights into the principles guiding our actions, while comedians use humour to highlight the complexities and absurdities of our moral choices.

The question of whether to alter a moment in time challenges us to think critically about the values we hold dear and the unforeseen consequences of our actions. Whether viewed through the serious contemplation of philosophers or the satirical lens of comedians, the ethical considerations remain profound and thought-provoking.

Our past experiences, both good and bad, shape who we are. They contribute to our personal growth, resilience, and wisdom. Altering a moment in time might erase valuable life lessons and the growth that comes from overcoming challenges. Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche famously stated, 'Was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich stärker (What does not kill me makes me stronger).' It is aphorism number 8 from the section 'Maxims and Barbs' in Friedrich Nietzsche's 1888 book Twilight of the Idols (translated by Duncan Large, 1998, Oxford University Press). This sentiment underscores the idea that our struggles and failures are essential to our development. By changing the past, we risk losing the very experiences that make us stronger and wiser. The maxim reflects Nietzsche’s broader philosophy of life and struggle. He believed that challenges, hardships, and even suffering are essential for personal growth and the cultivation of strength. Rather than avoiding difficulties, Nietzsche encourages embracing them as opportunities for self-overcoming.

Nietzsche views life as a series of struggles and challenges that test the individual. When a person faces adversity and survives, they grow stronger—both physically and mentally. This is central to his concept of the will to power, where overcoming obstacles is a fundamental aspect of life.

Nietzsche often critiques modern society for seeking comfort and avoiding pain at all costs. He believes this leads to mediocrity and stagnation. By contrast, struggle and suffering can foster resilience, creativity, and greatness.

In Nietzsche's Twilight of the Idols, Nietzsche begins by critiquing Socrates, whom he views as a symbol of the decline of Greek culture. He suggests that Socrates represented a turning point where rationality and dialectics were elevated above instinct and intuition. Nietzsche provocatively claims that Socrates’ embrace of reason was not a strength but a response to personal decadence—his philosophy emerged from his own physiological and psychological weaknesses. Nietzsche believed that pre-Socratic Greek culture, with its emphasis on art, instinct, and life-affirming values, was superior to the rationalism introduced by Socrates and Plato. He saw Socratic dialectics as a weapon of the weak against the strong, used to overturn traditional values and instincts that supported the vitality of life.

Why it Matters? This critique ties into Nietzsche’s broader rejection of what he sees as "life-denying" values in Western philosophy. Socrates is emblematic of the shift from living according to instincts and creativity to living under the dominance of reason and moral abstraction.

Nietzsche critiques traditional philosophy for its disdain for the sensory world and its obsession with abstract ideals, such as "truth," 'being,' and 'the eternal.' He argues that philosophers, from Plato to Kant, have devalued reality in favour of imagined metaphysical constructs. Nietzsche asserts that these ideals are illusions that deny the richness of life.

Nietzsche’s critique is rooted in his opposition to dualism (e.g., Plato’s world of forms versus the material world). He sees this metaphysical division as a betrayal of life, as it teaches people to prioritize an illusory 'higher' reality over their immediate, lived experiences.

In the concluding section, Nietzsche uses the metaphor of a hammer to describe his philosophical approach: testing idols (established values and beliefs) to see if they are hollow. He advocates for the destruction of false values to make way for new, life-affirming ones.

Nietzsche’s "hammer" is both destructive and creative. By breaking down outdated and harmful beliefs, he hopes to clear the ground for a new way of thinking—one that celebrates life, strength, and individuality.

The concept of altering time also brings to mind the paradox of choice. Barry Schwartz, in his work The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less (2004, Harper Collins), argues that having too many choices can lead to anxiety and dissatisfaction. If we had the power to change at any moment in our past, would we ever be satisfied with our decisions? The ability to constantly revise the past could lead to an endless cycle of second-guessing and regret, ultimately robbing us of peace and contentment in the present.

Barry Schwartz explores how having too many choices can lead to anxiety, decision paralysis, and dissatisfaction. Schwartz argues that while modern society often equates more choices with greater freedom and happiness, an overabundance of options can overwhelm individuals and reduce their overall well-being. He says that his work is about the choices Americans face in almost all areas of life: education, career, friendship, sex, romance, parenting, and religious observance. There is no denying that choice improves the quality of our lives. It enables us to control our destinies and to come close to getting exactly what we want out of any situation. Choice is essential to autonomy, which is fundamental to well-being. Healthy people want and need to direct their own lives.

On the other hand, the fact that some choices are good doesn’t necessarily mean that more choices are better. There is a cost to having an overload of choice. As a culture, we are enamoured of freedom, self-determination, and variety, and we are reluctant to give up any of our options. But clinging tenaciously to all the choices available to us contributes to bad decisions, anxiety, stress, and dissatisfaction—even to clinical depression.

Schwartz begins by acknowledging that choice is central to freedom and autonomy, values cherished in modern society. However, as the number of options available to us grows exponentially—from what to eat and wear to career paths and life partners—we encounter an unexpected challenge: decision-making becomes exhausting and anxiety-inducing. Schwartz's work examines why this happens and how it affects us psychologically.

One key insight is that an overabundance of choices leads to a phenomenon called choice overload. While having options can initially feel empowering, too many can overwhelm us. Faced with countless possibilities, we may struggle to evaluate each one, leading to decision paralysis—an inability to choose at all. Even when we do make a decision, the sheer number of alternatives can leave us plagued by doubt, wondering if we made the best choice.

Schwartz also introduces the distinction between maximizers and satisficers to explain how different people approach decision-making. Maximizers aim to make the absolute best choice by exploring all options thoroughly. While this might seem like a path to better outcomes, it often results in stress, regret, and a nagging sense of dissatisfaction. Satisficers, on the other hand, look for an option that meets their criteria and stop once they find it. They tend to experience greater contentment because they focus on what works rather than on what could have been better.

Another critical aspect of the work is the role of regret and comparison in reducing satisfaction. Schwartz explains that when we choose one option, we implicitly forgo all others, and this can create 'anticipated regret.' Even after making a choice, we might compare our selection to the alternatives we didn’t choose, fostering dissatisfaction and self-doubt. This is compounded by societal pressures, such as advertising and social media, which constantly remind us of options we might have missed or should aspire to.

The concept of hedonic adaptation also plays a role in the paradox of choice. When we finally choose something—be it a product, experience, or life decision—we initially feel a boost in happiness. However, humans quickly adapt to new circumstances, and the joy from our choices fades. This creates a cycle where we continuously seek better options in the hope of lasting happiness, only to be disappointed when they fail to deliver.

To address these challenges, Schwartz suggests practical strategies to navigate choice overload. He advocates for limiting our options, focusing on what truly matters, and practising gratitude for what we have rather than fixating on what we lack. By embracing satisficing over maximizing, we can find relief from the endless pursuit of perfection. Accepting that no choice is flawless and letting go of unrealistic expectations can lead to greater peace of mind.

Schwartz's work offers a thoughtful critique of consumerism and a guide to finding contentment in a world overflowing with possibilities. Schwartz's message is not to eliminate choice but to be mindful of its psychological impact and to simplify where we can, ensuring that our decisions serve to enhance, rather than detract from, our well-being.

The idea of altering a moment in time is undeniably enticing, but it is fraught with ethical, philosophical, and practical challenges. While the allure of correcting past mistakes or reliving cherished moments is strong, the potential consequences of such actions—ranging from the butterfly effect to the loss of personal growth—cannot be ignored. Ultimately, it is worth considering whether the present, with all its imperfections, is preferable to the uncertain outcomes of an altered past.

My time is up! Allow me to turn over the sand timer so that we can go on the discussion," said the time traveller while turning the sand timer over and singing Budi Doremi's Mesin Waktu,

Jika aku bisa, ku akan kembali

[If I could, I would go back in time]

Ku akan merubah takdir cinta yang kupilih

[Change the fate of love that was once mine]

Meskipun tak mungkin, walaupun ku mau

[Though it's impossible, even if I strive, ]

Bawa kamu lewat mesin waktu

[To bring you back through a time machine]

[Session 6]

[Session 4]

Bahasa

Time Machine (4)

The time traveller said, "Satire can be seen as a metaphorical time machine that critiques humanity by navigating through different temporal landscapes, whether revisiting the past, speculating on the future, or reinterpreting the present in light of enduring truths. Jeremy Irons said, 'We all have our time machines. Some take us back; they're called memories. Some take us forward; they're called dreams.' Everyone yearns for the past. Our time machine takes us to the 1950s, when everything was black and white, literally. Because who doesn’t miss the days of dial-up telephones and blatant societal inequalities?

The idea is that going back to a time when 'money had real value' will fix the economy. It is as if a time machine could magically stabilise the stock market, making every penny count while we barter in cryptocurrency for our morning coffee. Tom Hanks as Forrest Gump says, 'Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.'

Fast forward to the future where technology is supposed to solve all our problems. Instead, we’re enslaved by our own smart appliances—fridges that berate us for our dietary choices and cars that insist we take the scenic route through traffic jams. The time machine just exacerbates our dependency on 'better living through gadgetry.'

A trip to the future to meet our descendants reveals they're still sporting the same fashion catastrophes but now with even more impractical accessories—like jetpack fanny packs and holographic mullets. The time machine takes us to different eras, only to realize that every generation thinks the previous one was an absolute disaster and the future is bound to be a trainwreck. It's a loop of eternal discontent.

Satire, like a time machine, lets us explore different eras and facets of society through a critical, often humorous lens—showing us that maybe, just maybe, our perception of 'progress' is as warped as the time continuum itself. The concepts of a 'time machine' and 'satire' might seem distinct, but there are compelling metaphorical connections between the two, especially when we view satire as a form of temporal critique. Satire often critiques societal norms, behaviours, or institutions by reflecting on the past. It acts as a "time machine" that revisits historical events, cultural practices, or past ideologies to highlight their absurdity or flaws. George Orwell’s Animal Farm is a satire that revisits the historical events of the Russian Revolution, exposing their hypocrisy and failures. Readers are transported back to a historical moment to analyze and critique it through the lens of allegory.

Just as a time machine allows for the exploration of possible futures, satire envisions alternative realities to warn against current trajectories. Satirical works often exaggerate present trends to show where they might lead, serving as a form of speculative futurism. Jonathan Swift’s A Modest Proposal envisions a grotesque future where societal inequalities lead to the commodification of human life. The exaggerated proposal critiques existing societal apathy.

Satire moves freely through time, juxtaposing the past, present, and potential future to expose the folly of human behaviour. This temporal flexibility allows it to draw connections between historical patterns and current issues. Satirical television shows like The Daily Show often draw parallels between historical events and modern-day politics, highlighting recurring patterns of human folly.

A time machine symbolizes imaginative freedom, much like satire. Satire's power lies in its ability to transcend temporal boundaries, inviting readers or viewers to reconsider their current circumstances by placing them in a broader temporal context. In science fiction satire, such as Douglas Adams’ The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the absurdities of futuristic societies serve as a critique of contemporary human values.

While a time machine might suggest linear movement through time, satire shows that human flaws and societal issues are often timeless. Satire acts as a mirror reflecting both historical and present realities, suggesting that certain human tendencies persist regardless of temporal context.

For the past decade, Indonesians have been fooled by the 'myth of the good guy', and the story of Petruk fighting Lembu Suro will soon begin. Myths can be seen as narrative time machines, encapsulating timeless truths while enabling humanity to reflect on its past, shape its present, and envision its future. Both constructs invite us to journey through time—not merely as observers but as active participants in an ever-unfolding story. Myths and time machines both serve as tools for understanding human identity. Myths offer archetypes and eternal truths that define humanity, while a time machine allows for introspection by witnessing humanity's evolution across time. The myth of Odysseus’s journey mirrors a time machine’s exploration of the self through trials and transformation, emphasizing resilience and discovery across different 'times.'

The metaphorical 'time machine' and the 'myth of a good man' converge as they explore the essence of human virtue across time and culture. Both invite us to reflect on the evolving yet enduring qualities of goodness, allowing us to trace the roots of morality, witness its application in different eras, and project its significance into the future.

The portrayal of rulers as 'the good man' is a recurring theme across mythology, literature, and history. These rulers serve as embodiments of virtue, often tasked with balancing power and morality while guiding their people through challenges. A ruler who starts as a symbol of goodness but later reveals darker traits or succumbs to corruption offers a compelling narrative about the fragility of morality under the pressures of power. These stories explore the duality of human nature, the seduction of authority, and the difficulty of maintaining virtue when faced with immense responsibility.

Shakespeare's Macbeth is introduced as a valiant and loyal warrior who fights for King Duncan, earning praise as a noble and honourable man. His bravery and commitment to his kingdom paint him as a worthy subject and potential leader. Tempted by ambition and spurred by the prophecy of the witches, as well as Lady Macbeth’s influence, Macbeth murders King Duncan to seize the throne. This act sets off a chain of increasingly tyrannical and violent decisions, revealing his capacity for greed and moral compromise. Shakespeare’s Macbeth illustrates how unchecked ambition can corrupt even those with a noble heart. His transformation from a good man to a tyrant serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of power and moral compromise.

Napoleon Bonaparte as a historical example, rose to prominence as a revolutionary leader, promising to uphold the ideals of liberty, equality, and fraternity. He was seen as a reformer, introducing the Napoleonic Code, which promoted legal equality and meritocracy. Over time, Napoleon’s hunger for power grew, and he crowned himself Emperor of France. His reign was marked by expansionist wars, immense bloodshed, and authoritarian control. While initially a champion of revolutionary ideals, he became a ruler whose actions contradicted those principles. Napoleon’s trajectory highlights how even visionary leaders can become authoritarian when consumed by the allure of domination and control.

In Star Wars, Anakin Skywalker begins as a gifted and compassionate young Jedi, destined to bring balance to the Force. He is portrayed as heroic, idealistic, and committed to the greater good. Manipulated by Emperor Palpatine and consumed by fear, anger, and a desire for control, Anakin succumbs to the dark side, becoming Darth Vader. He turns against the Jedi Order, commits atrocities, and becomes an enforcer of tyranny. Anakin’s fall from grace illustrates the peril of letting fear and desire for power overshadow one’s moral compass, showing how even good intentions can lead to destruction when distorted by selfishness.

Commodus, the son of Emperor Marcus Aurelius, was initially seen as a promising heir to his father’s legacy of wisdom and justice. In the movie Gladiator, Marcus Aurelius seeks to restore the Republic and trusts Commodus to share his vision. Historically and fictionally, Commodus becomes a self-indulgent and egotistical ruler. He indulges in excess, abandons governance, and enforces brutal policies to maintain his grip on power. His actions tarnish his father’s legacy and bring instability to the Roman Empire. Commodus exemplifies how privilege and entitlement, when unchecked, can corrupt a ruler and turn them from a promising leader into a destructive force.

In other cases, in some Indonesians, Turkish President Erdogan is seen as a great character. But based on the insights from the reference books and studies, his leadership has been marked by a systematic dismantling of democratic institutions, suppression of dissent, and centralization of power. While Erdoğan's administration retains some features of electoral democracy, such as regular elections, the competitive and pluralistic nature of these processes has been significantly undermined. Erdoğan has increasingly concentrated authority in the presidency, sidelining other state institutions. The judiciary has been criticized for being subjugated to the executive, undermining checks and balances. Opposition voices in media, academia, and civil society have faced significant restrictions. Following the 2016 coup attempt, Erdoğan used emergency powers to purge state institutions of dissenting voices and tighten control. Yes, the characterization of Turkish President Erdoğan as authoritarian is supported by numerous scholarly works.

Of course, many will defend Erdoğan, and one of them said 'He is a good authoritarian!' 

'A Good Authoritarian' is one of those phrases that feels like an oxymoron, doesn’t it? The concept of a 'good' authoritarian could serve as fertile ground for satire, poking fun at the inherent contradictions and the often absurd attempts to justify authoritarianism under the guise of benevolence. But let's dive deeper into a satirical world like the following, 'In a land where freedoms were neatly tucked away in the attic and civil liberties were considered quaint relics, there emerged a leader hailed as "The Benevolent One." Unlike your average run-of-the-mill authoritarian, our hero ruled with a velvet fist—an iron fist wrapped in the softest cashmere, to be precise.

'Fear not!' he would bellow with a smile wider than state-sanctioned smiles were legally allowed. 'For I am here to protect you—from yourselves!'

The citizens nodded obediently, their heads bobbing in perfect unison, for nothing brought comfort like the warmth of well-meaning oppression. Curfews were enforced under the guise of promoting good bedtime habits, and the population could always sleep soundly knowing that every dissenting thought was swiftly quelled in the name of peace.

Under the watchful eye of The benevolent one, innovation thrived—so long as it didn't involve new ideas. Schools taught critical thinking, but only the approved kind. 'Imagine freely, but within these meticulously drawn boundaries,' the state education pamphlet cheerfully advised.

And so, in this utopia of uniformity, the people lived their lives blissfully, unaware of the encroaching shadows of their benevolent overlord. For there was no greater gift than the illusion of freedom, wrapped in the comforting embrace of a velvet fist.

In the grand palace of The benevolent one, there was a room known as the 'Suggestion Box Room'—perhaps inspired by the Indonesian concept of 'Lapor Mas Wapres!'.  It was a place where citizens could voice their thoughts and ideas, provided they fit within the state-approved guidelines. The suggestion box, a grand golden relic, gleamed with the promise of change that would never come.

One day, a young citizen dared to submit a suggestion, 'What if we had a day where people could express their thoughts freely?' The benevolent one read the suggestion with a bemused smile and declared, 'What a delightful notion! We shall call it 'Pre-Approved Free Thought Day!' Whether citing a reference or advice from whom, the ruler equated it with the concept of a 'Credit Card.'

And so, the citizens gathered in the town square, ready to express their pre-approved thoughts. They wore their finest uniforms and carried signs with slogans like "Innovation Within Limits!" and "Think Freely...But Not Too Freely!"

Many rulers begin with noble intentions but are undone by their ambition, which, unchecked, can overshadow their initial virtues. The corrupting nature of power is a central theme. Even the "good man" can falter when faced with the temptations and responsibilities of authority. These stories remind us that no leader is immune to human flaws. Pride, fear, jealousy, or insecurity can erode even the strongest moral foundation. While circumstances and external pressures play a role, these rulers often make conscious choices that lead to their moral decline, emphasizing the importance of self-awareness and accountability. The narrative of a ruler’s fall from goodness to badness serves as a timeless exploration of power’s complexity, offering lessons about the vigilance required to uphold virtue in positions of authority.

In the end, we realize that satire, much like a time machine, allows us to explore different eras and facets of society. It forces us to confront the warped nature of our perception of progress and reminds us that perhaps, just perhaps, the absurdity of human life is timeless.

So, as we step out of our satirical time machine, let's remember to laugh at the present, critique the past, and approach the future with a healthy dose of scepticism and humour. You never know what you're gonna get, but with satire, at least we can enjoy the journey."

[Session 5]

[Session 3]

Bahasa

Time Machine (3)

"Life often has us wishing for a do-over when we mess up like every Monday morning, and a time machine could let us rewrite history," the time traveller went on when he had turned his sand timer over. "There are several reasons why Mondays often feel like a disaster waiting to happen. After a weekend of relaxation or excitement, switching back to the work mindset can be jarring. Our brains need time to adjust from 'weekend mode' to 'work mode.'

Many people tend to stay up later and sleep in on weekends. This disrupts the body's internal clock, making it harder to wake up early and be alert on Monday morning. Tasks and emails that accumulate over the weekend can make Monday mornings overwhelming. The sudden influx of work can lead to mistakes and stress. Culturally, Mondays are often seen as the worst day of the week. This negative perception can create a self-fulfilling prophecy, making us more prone to errors simply because we expect them.

Dreading the start of the workweek can increase anxiety, which affects concentration and performance. High stress levels can lead to more mistakes and a sense of being overwhelmed. Perhaps the universe has a wicked sense of humour, orchestrating minor catastrophes just to see how we cope. Lost keys, spilt coffee, and missed alarms—Monday's way of keeping us on our toes!

In reality, Mondays are just another day of the week, but our mindset and habits often set us up for a rocky start. A bit of preparation and a positive attitude can go a long way in turning those Monday mess-ups into minor blips.

A time machine represents the possibility of changing a nation's destiny by correcting past mistakes or accelerating technological and social advancements. Imagine if a country could skip its dark periods or revisit its golden ages to foster a more prosperous future. Rulers, if equipped with a time machine, might attempt to engineer a flawless rule by erasing unpopular policies or rivals. But, much like life, tinkering with time could lead to unforeseen consequences. Instead of an ideal utopia, they might accidentally create a dystopian timeline (think butterfly effect but with political scandals). On a personal level, a time machine could allow individuals to relive their favorite moments or correct their worst blunders. In the grander scheme, life is the day-to-day struggle and triumph that makes up the collective experience of a nation.

Progress isn’t about magically jumping ahead but learning from the past. A nation develops through trials, errors, and breakthroughs. If rulers tried to rush progress with a time machine, they might miss critical lessons, resulting in a nation without the resilience to sustain its advancements.

In a world where nations, rulers, and citizens wield time machines. Rulers become historical DJs, remixing timelines but often scratching the wrong record. Nations experience deja vu, continuously hitting rewind but never quite perfecting their greatest hits. Progress is a clumsy dance where everyone keeps stepping on each other's toes, thinking they're moving forward but often spinning in circles. Ultimately, whether in the hands of rulers or the nation itself, the time machine serves as a reminder that while the allure of fast-tracking to a utopian future is tempting, it’s the journey through the wrinkles of time that moulds the true essence of life and progress. And isn't the unpredictability what makes it all so...chaotically beautiful?

Time and life have been deeply intertwined topics in philosophy, with many philosophers offering intriguing insights into their relationship. Heraclitus famously said, 'You cannot step into the same river twice, for other waters are continually flowing in.' This highlights the idea that time is in constant flux, just like life. Both are ever-changing, and nothing remains the same.

But there is no day without night. Parmenides' views on change present a stark contrast to those of Heraclitus, offering a unique philosophical perspective that highlights the nuances of their debate. Parmenides argued that change is an illusion and that reality is unchanging and eternal. He believed that what we perceive as change is merely the result of our limited and deceptive senses. According to him, "What is, is; and what is not, is not," implying that true being is constant and unalterable (Parmenides of Elea: Fragments by Parmenides, translated by David Gallop, 1991, University of Toronto Press). In his poem, 'On Nature,' Parmenides distinguishes between the 'Way of Truth' (the understanding that reality is one and unchanging) and the 'Way of Opinion' (the deceptive world of sensory experience where change and plurality appear real). He maintained that the latter leads to false beliefs. Parmenides introduced the idea that "being" is the only reality and that non-being (or nothingness) is impossible. Thus, change, which implies the transition from non-being to being or vice versa, is logically absurd.

Heraclitus, in contrast, posited that change is the fundamental nature of reality. He famously stated, "You cannot step into the same river twice," emphasizing that everything is in a constant state of flux. While Heraclitus viewed the world as dynamic and ever-changing, Parmenides saw it as static and unchanging. This fundamental disagreement provides a fascinating counterpoint: where Heraclitus saw harmony in the tension and interplay of opposites, Parmenides saw a singular, unchanging truth behind the illusion of change.

The debate between Heraclitus and Parmenides laid the groundwork for much of Western philosophy. Their opposing views on change versus permanence influenced later philosophers like Plato and Aristotle, who sought to reconcile these ideas. Plato's theory of forms, for example, can be seen as an attempt to bridge Heraclitus' changing world and Parmenides' eternal reality.

Parmenides' rejection of change forces us to question the reliability of our senses and the nature of reality itself. In doing so, his ideas sharpen the contrast with Heraclitus' celebration of change, making their dialogue a cornerstone of philosophical inquiry. By examining both perspectives, we gain a deeper understanding of the complexities of existence and the ongoing search for truth. Parmenides' rejection of change is rooted in his metaphysical beliefs about the nature of reality. His philosophy invites us to question the reliability of our perceptions and consider the possibility of a deeper, unchanging truth underlying the apparent changes in the world. Parmenides' argument centres on the nature of being and reality. He posits that true reality is eternal and unchanging. This means that what we perceive as a change in the physical world is merely an illusion. His focus is on understanding the fundamental, unchanging nature of existence rather than advocating for maintaining current societal conditions.

In his poem, "On Nature," Parmenides distinguishes between the "Way of Truth" (the understanding that reality is one and unchanging) and the "Way of Opinion" (the deceptive world of sensory experience). His rejection of change is a metaphysical stance that challenges the reliability of sensory perception rather than a political or social statement. While Parmenides' ideas might be used by some to justify resisting change in a societal context, this is a secondary application of his metaphysical principles. His primary goal was to explore the nature of being and challenge the assumptions made by our senses and perceptions.

Parmenides’ philosophy makes the concept of a time machine sound like a paradoxical exercise. Imagine a scientist inventing a time machine, only to find out it doesn’t work because time doesn’t exist! Or think of a motivational speaker trying to sell 'the secret to happiness' based on Parmenides’ ideas, 'Worry less about the future or past. The ultimate self-help tip? They don’t even exist!'

Beyond grand philosophical debates, people might use time machines for more mundane purposes—like avoiding bad haircuts or making sure they catch their favourite TV show. These trivial changes show how deeply ingrained our desire to control time and change is. With a time machine, corrupt rulers might ensure their perpetual reign. They could go back and manipulate elections, remove potential rivals before they rise, and rewrite laws to secure their grip on power indefinitely.

Imagine corrupt officials with access to a time machine. They could hop back to cover their tracks, erase scandals, and alter evidence. Every time a whistleblower appears, a quick trip to the past silences them before they even blow the whistle.

The issue of forgiving corrupt individuals who return the money they embezzled is a complex and multifaceted one. It involves legal, ethical, and social considerations. In many legal systems, returning stolen funds can be considered a mitigating factor, but it does not necessarily absolve the individual of their crimes. The legal process often seeks not only restitution but also punishment to deter future wrongdoing and uphold justice. Ethically, returning the money is a step towards righting the wrong, but it may not be sufficient for complete forgiveness. The harm caused by corruption extends beyond financial loss; it erodes trust, damages institutions, and undermines societal integrity. True accountability often requires more than just financial restitution—it requires genuine remorse and efforts to repair the broader damage done.

Corruption indeed has far-reaching consequences that go beyond the immediate financial losses. There are some of the invisible and incalculable damages caused by corruption. Corruption undermines the trust citizens have in their government and institutions. When people believe that officials are corrupt, they lose faith in the fairness and integrity of the system, leading to cynicism and disengagement. Corruption weakens the effectiveness of institutions, making them less capable of serving the public good. This can lead to inefficiencies, poor service delivery, and a lack of accountability. Corruption can erode societal morals and ethical standards. When corrupt practices become normalized, it creates an environment where dishonesty and unethical behaviour are tolerated or even expected. Corruption can divert resources away from essential services like education, healthcare, and infrastructure, hampering a country’s overall development and perpetuating poverty and inequality. Corruption can distort the democratic process by influencing elections, policymaking, and public administration. This undermines the principles of democracy, such as fairness, transparency, and representation. The psychological impact of living in a corrupt society can be profound. It can lead to feelings of powerlessness, frustration, and disillusionment among citizens.

Corruption damages the social fabric and trust in institutions. For many, simply returning the stolen funds may not be enough to restore this trust. There needs to be a visible commitment to transparency, accountability, and systemic change to rebuild confidence in public institutions. (for more details, please see Susan Rose-Ackerman and Bonnie J. Palifka, Corruption and Government: Causes, Consequences, and Reform, 2016, Cambridge University Press)

If we had a time machine, corrupt individuals could travel back and undo their actions entirely. But since we don't, they need to face the music in the present, which involves a bit more than just returning the loot. It’s like cleaning up a mess—they need to grab a mop and a broom, not just sweep the dirt under the rug. Different cultures and legal systems handle this issue in varied ways. Some might focus on restorative justice, while others emphasize retribution. Historical examples show that merely returning stolen funds rarely suffice to erase the broader impacts of corruption.

Anti-corruption in History: From Antiquity to the Modern Era by Ronald Kroeze, André Vitória, and Guy Geltner (2018, Oxford University Press) explore the historical evolution of anticorruption practices and discourses. the authors highlight significant contrasts in how corruption was perceived in antiquity compared to today. In ancient societies, corruption was often seen as a moral failing or a breach of divine and natural laws. It was less about legal codes and more about ethical transgressions that disrupted societal harmony and cosmic order. For instance, in ancient Mesopotamia, Egypt, and China, rulers portrayed themselves as custodians of moral and cosmic balance. Corruption undermined this balance and was viewed as a betrayal of divine will or natural justice.

Practices such as patronage, gift-giving, and favour-trading, which might be labelled as corrupt today, were often accepted and even encouraged in many ancient cultures. They were seen as ways to maintain social cohesion and reinforce loyalty. Corruption was typically understood in terms of personal abuse of power or favouritism within small political or administrative systems, such as city-states or imperial courts. It was not usually linked to systemic or structural issues.

In Europe, the Catholic Church played a significant role in framing corruption as a moral and spiritual issue. Reform movements like those of the Cluniac order sought to address the moral decay of clergy and leaders. Islamic governance emphasized justice (adl) and accountability, with leaders expected to rule according to divine principles and uphold public trust. In feudal societies, the abuse of power was often tied to the decentralized nature of governance. Corruption was addressed through personal loyalty and reciprocal obligations. Early bureaucracies, such as those of the Abbasid Caliphate or Tang Dynasty, introduced formalized systems to monitor officials, including inspectors and reporting mechanisms.

As centralized states emerged, corruption began to be seen as a threat to the integrity and efficiency of governance. This period saw increased emphasis on professionalization and accountability. For example, during the Renaissance in Europe, the Venetian Republic and other city-states implemented formal checks and balances to limit the misuse of public funds.

The rise of literacy and print culture facilitated broader public discussions on corruption. Enlightenment thinkers like Montesquieu and Rousseau critiqued corruption as a barrier to republican ideals and meritocracy.

In the modern era, corruption is largely defined in legal and institutional terms, focusing on the misuse of public power for private gain. It is considered a violation of codified laws and regulations rather than solely a moral or ethical lapse. Corruption is now recognized as a systemic problem with far-reaching economic, political, and social consequences. It is linked to issues such as poverty, inequality, and weakened state institutions.

Modern perceptions of corruption emphasize principles like transparency, accountability, and meritocracy. Practices that were once culturally acceptable, such as nepotism or patronage, are now widely condemned as undermining fairness and democratic governance.

Today, corruption is addressed within a globalized framework, with international organizations, non-governmental groups, and governments collaborating on anti-corruption initiatives. Modern tools like digital surveillance and data analytics also play a role in detection and prevention.

In this dystopian satire, a time machine in the hands of corrupt officials becomes a tool for unending power and manipulation. In the end, the misuse of a time machine for corruption only underscores the true cost: the loss of trust, progress, and hope for a just and fair society. It’s a poignant reminder that integrity and transparency are timeless values that no amount of time travel can replace.

And now, I have to turn back my sand timer again to prolong our discussion.

[Session 4]

[Session 2]

[Bahasa]

Time Machine (2)

"H.G. Wells's The Time Machine is a profound exploration of humanity’s relationship with time, progress, and the fragility of civilization," the time traveller continued. "At its core, the novel invites readers to reflect on the paradox of human advancement: the same technological and social progress that enables comfort and convenience can also lead to stagnation and division.

The Time Traveler’s journey to the distant future reveals a world dominated by two evolved species: the Eloi, representing frailty and decadence, and the Morlocks, embodying toil and darkness. This duality serves as an allegory for the consequences of unchecked social stratification. The Eloi, descendants of a ruling class, have grown weak and purposeless, while the Morlocks, descended from labourers, have become monstrous and predatory. Wells suggests that a society overly reliant on technological and economic hierarchies risks devolving into alienation and dehumanization.

Moreover, the novel questions the permanence of human achievements. The decayed ruins of human civilization in the far future underscore the impermanence of even the greatest empires. Through this, Wells challenges the Enlightenment-era optimism that saw progress as linear and everlasting. Instead, he offers a cyclical vision of history, where humanity’s potential is shadowed by its inherent flaws.

Let's go back to Will and Ariel Durant's The Lessons of History. They argue that Monarchy seems to be the most natural kind of government since it applies to the group the authority of the father in a family or of the chieftain in a warrior band. If we were to judge forms of government from their prevalence and duration in history we should have to give the palm to monarchy; democracies, by contrast, have been hectic interludes.

After the breakdown of Roman democracy in the class wars of the Gracchi, Marius, and Caesar, Augustus organized, under what in effect was monarchical rule, the greatest achievement in the history of statesmanship—that Pax Romana which maintained peace from 30 B.C. to A.D. 180 throughout an empire ranging from the Atlantic to the Euphrates and from Scotland to the Black Sea. After him monarchy disgraced itself under Caligula, Nero, and Domitian; but after them came Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, and Marcus Aurelius—“the finest succession of good and great sovereigns,”

All in all, monarchy has had a middling record. Its wars of succession brought mankind as much evil as the continuity or “legitimacy” of the monarchy brought good. When it is hereditary it is likely to be more prolific of stupidity, nepotism, irresponsibility, and extravagance than of nobility or statesmanship. Louis XIV has often been taken as the paragon of modern monarchs, but the people of France rejoiced at his death. The complexity of contemporary states seems to break down any single mind that tries to master it.

Imagine governance as a Time Machine that travels between two eras: the outgoing regime and the incoming one. The journey is about moving through time and ensuring the machine (the nation or system) arrives intact at its destination. The engineers, fuel suppliers, and navigators play key roles in this transition. In history, there have been instances where one regime and its successor have reached agreements regarding governance regulation, typically during transitions of power or to ensure continuity in administration. Such agreements are often documented in treaties, legal codes, or transitional frameworks.

Although not a transition between regimes, The Magna Carta (1215) represented an agreement between King John of England and his barons to limit royal power and establish certain legal protections. It became a foundational text for constitutional governance. The Treaty of Westphalia (1648) ended the Thirty Years' War in Europe and established principles of sovereignty and non-intervention, regulating governance between states. The U.S. Constitution (1787) was the result of an agreement among the states to replace the Articles of Confederation with a new framework for governance. It established a balance between federal and state powers.

When power transitioned from the Tokugawa shogunate to the Meiji government, the Meiji Restoration in Japan (1868) was made to modernize and regulate governance while respecting certain traditional structures temporarily. Agreements between the apartheid government and the African National Congress (ANC) led to the drafting of a new constitution, marking a peaceful transition of governance.

Governance transitions—whether through revolution, reform, or negotiation—are like a journey through time. The Time Machine symbolizes the mechanisms and structures of governance that carry a nation from one era (regime) to another.

Furthermore, Will and Ariel Durant argued that most governments have been oligarchies—ruled by a minority, chosen either by birth, as in aristocracies, or by a religious organization, as in theocracies, or by wealth, as in democracies.

The Time Machine must be designed to work in both the outgoing and incoming eras. Oligarchs, as engineers, ensure their construction aligns with their interests, embedding mechanisms to maintain their influence regardless of the destination. How do they do it? Drafting laws or agreements that protect their assets and privileges (e.g., amnesty deals, favourable economic policies). Or, negotiating with incoming leaders to ensure their involvement in the future system. During the transition from communism in Eastern Europe, oligarchs used their engineering skills to secure privatized state assets, building a new system where they remained indispensable.

Every journey requires fuel, and the Time Machine is no different. Oligarchs control critical resources—wealth, industries, or political influence—that serve as fuel for the transition. Without their contribution, the machine risks stalling. How do they do it? Financing political campaigns, transitional governments, or stability programs to ensure the machine keeps moving. Or, offering concessions, such as keeping industries operational during uncertain times. In post-apartheid South Africa, business leaders (many oligarchic in their influence) provided economic stability by agreeing to cooperate with the new government while securing their business interests.

Once the Time Machine is moving, someone must chart its course. Oligarchs often sit in the navigator’s seat, steering the machine toward a destination that safeguards their position. They may justify this control as being in the nation’s best interest, claiming that their experience ensures a smoother journey. How do they do it? Lobbying for policies that align with their interests while framing them as beneficial for the nation. Or, influencing media narratives to shape public opinion about the direction of the transition. In Ukraine, oligarchs have historically funded political parties and controlled media outlets, guiding the country’s trajectory post-Soviet independence to favour their economic dominance.

In transitional periods, the public is often uncertain about the future. Oligarchs exploit this uncertainty by crafting narratives that either reinforce their indispensability or discredit opposing voices. Presenting themselves as stabilizers of the economy or as protectors of national identity to gain public trust. By controlling narratives, oligarchs can shift blame for problems (e.g., economic crises, corruption) onto others, such as external forces, or the public itself. Public opinion is a powerful tool. Positive media portrayals can legitimize oligarchs’ actions, ensuring they remain influential in the new system.

Maybe because my father is a journalist I am one of those who strongly believe that journalists can make a difference. Imagine life as a series of interconnected stories, unfolding moment by moment. Each individual's life story contributes to the collective human experience, much like chapters in a grand, ever-evolving book. A time machine symbolizes the dream of traversing these life stories—not just our own, but those of the past and future.

Journalists, in a sense, are time travellers. They delve into the past to uncover truths, present them in the here and now, and shape the narratives that will guide future generations. Just as a time machine allows one to visit different eras, journalists journey through time by researching historical events, documenting current happenings, and influencing future discourse with their reporting.

Journalists capture snapshots of life at various points in time. Their stories allow us to experience moments we weren't present for, similar to how a time machine would transport us to different eras. For example, photojournalism immortalizes pivotal moments, making them accessible to future generations. They bridge the past, present, and future. Investigative pieces often trace events from their origins to their present-day impact, akin to travelling through time to understand the full arc of a story.

Once upon a time, the kingdom of Achipelago's most popular magazine, "Tempo," featured a cover that was a parody of Prabu Petruk, holding Vivivavi high above his head, just like Rafiki held Simba in "The Lion King." The citizens wondered if Vivivavi would break into a rendition of "Hakuna Matata" at any moment. But the plot-twist thickened when Vivivavi, in his quest to win the hearts of the people, decided to distribute milk throughout the kingdom. "Milk for everyone!" he proclaimed, as he handed out bottles with his name plastered all over them. The citizens, while grateful for the free milk, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Isn't this our tax money?" they whispered among themselves. Another replied, "He's such a milk fan!"

By informing the public and holding powers accountable, journalists influence the future. Their work ensures that society learns from past mistakes and strives for a better future. In this way, they serve as custodians of time, guiding humanity through its collective journey. Journalists document history as it happens, ensuring that future generations have a record of significant events. This is analogous to a time machine's ability to preserve moments in time for future study and reflection.

However, despite their noble role, journalists face several challenges and drawbacks. Journalists can sometimes introduce their own biases into their reporting, leading to skewed or one-sided coverage. Bernard Goldberg in Bias: A CBS Insider Exposes How the Media Distort the News critiques perceived liberal bias in the media based on Goldberg's experiences during his tenure at CBS News (2001, Regnery Publishing).

In the race for viewership and readership, some journalists or media outlets may resort to sensationalism, prioritizing shocking or controversial stories over more substantive reporting. W. Joseph Campbell in The Yellow Journalism: The Press and America’s Emergence as a World Power (2001, Bloomsbury Academic) examines the phenomenon of yellow journalism during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, particularly focusing on the rivalry between newspaper magnates William Randolph Hearst and Joseph Pulitzer. Campbell discusses how sensationalism in reporting influenced public perception and policy during critical historical moments, including the Spanish-American War. His work provides insights into how media can shape national identity and public opinion.

Media outlets often rely on advertising revenue, which can influence the content they produce. This can sometimes lead to conflicts of interest or pressure to avoid stories that might upset advertisers. Ben H. Bagdikian in The Media Monopoly (2000, Beacon Press) critiques the consolidation of media ownership in the United States, arguing that a few large corporations control the majority of media outlets, which limits diversity in news coverage. Bagdikian highlights how this concentration affects public knowledge and democracy, emphasizing the need for a more pluralistic media landscape.

In the rush to break news, journalists may sometimes report inaccurate or incomplete information, leading to the spread of misinformation. Edward S. Herman and Noam Chomsky in Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media (1988, Pantheon Books) analyze how mass media serves elite interests through a "propaganda model" that influences news production. Herman and Chomsky argue that media content is shaped by economic factors and political agendas, leading to biased reporting that often serves powerful entities rather than the public interest.

Journalists, especially those covering conflicts or dangerous areas, face significant physical and psychological risks. This can impact their well-being and the quality of their reporting. Ray Moseley in Reporting War: How Foreign Correspondents Risk Capture, Injury and Death to Bring Us the News (2018, Yale University Press) explores the challenges faced by foreign correspondents during wartime, detailing their experiences and sacrifices while covering conflicts like World War II. Moseley highlights the evolution of war reporting and its significance in shaping public understanding of global events. It serves as both a historical account and a tribute to the journalists who risk their lives for accurate reporting.

Increasingly, the public's trust in the media has eroded due to instances of perceived or real bias, sensationalism, and misinformation. This distrust can undermine the essential role of journalists in society. In his provocative book, Ryan Holiday (Trust Me, I'm Lying: Confessions of a Media Manipulator, 2012 Portfolio) reveals his experiences as a media strategist who manipulated online journalism for promotional purposes. He critiques the current state of news media, particularly how blogs drive sensationalism and can be easily influenced for commercial gain. He discusses tactics used to exploit the media landscape, raising questions about ethics in journalism and marketing.

In essence, while we may not have physical time machines, journalists perform a similar function by traversing the timelines of human experience, preserving our past, examining our present, and influencing our future. They are the chroniclers and time travellers of our world, ensuring that the story of life is told in all its richness and complexity. But, like any other human endeavour, journalism is not without its flaws and challenges. It is through understanding and addressing these cons that we can strive for a more informed, balanced, and trustworthy media landscape.

While the Time Machine moves through governance transitions, the people—symbolized as Life—are its passengers. Their experience of the journey reflects their hopes, struggles, and challenges as they navigate the uncertain terrain of change. Most passengers in the Time Machine have no direct control over its operation. They rely on the engineers and navigators to take them safely to a better future, though often at the cost of their comfort and equality. Wealth disparities often widen as oligarchs prioritize their interests over public welfare. The burden of the transition—such as economic uncertainty or political instability—falls disproportionately on ordinary citizens. In Russia during the 1990s, the privatization efforts enriched oligarchs while plunging millions into poverty and unemployment.

Despite their lack of control, the passengers hold onto dreams of reaching a better destination. These hopes—of democracy, equality, or prosperity—sustain them through the turbulence of the journey. However, oligarchs often manipulate these dreams, presenting illusions of progress while maintaining the status quo. Citizens may initially support transitions, believing they will bring positive change, only to find themselves in a system as inequitable as the last. After the Arab Spring, some nations experienced a return to oligarchic or autocratic dominance, dashing public hopes for meaningful reform. But Revolts often lead to chaos, power vacuums, or counter-revolutions, harming ordinary people more than the oligarchs. In Venezuela, public protests against oligarchic corruption and mismanagement have contributed to ongoing political and economic crises.

The interplay between the Time Machine and Life determines the ultimate success of the governance transition. Oligarchs, despite their control, depend on the passengers for legitimacy and productivity, while the passengers rely on the oligarchs for leadership and resources. Passengers trust the oligarchs to lead responsibly, but oligarchs often exploit this trust for personal gain. Passengers envision a better future, while oligarchs ensure the destination closely resembles the past to preserve their power.

And, my time is up, it's time to flip my sand timer to move on to the next session."

[Session 3]

[Session 1]

Bahasa

Time Machine (1)

Once, a time traveller was contemplating his experience of sailing through time, "Ah, 2024—a year so riddled with twists and turns it could give a roller coaster an inferiority complex. If this year were a novel, it would be a page-turner, but one of those you’d read with one eye open.

'The only constant in life is change,' said Heraclitus, reflecting his philosophical perspective that the universe is in a constant state of flux. Heraclitus believed that everything in the universe is in a state of continuous transformation. Nothing remains static or unchanged. He illustrated this with the analogy of a river: 'You cannot step into the same river twice,' because the water flows and changes, just as the person stepping into the river is also changing. Many fail to grasp what they have seen, and cannot judge what they have learned, although they tell themselves they know.

Change is not just an occasional occurrence but a fundamental and universal law of existence. Heraclitus saw change as a driving force that shapes the cosmos, maintaining balance and harmony through a dynamic interplay of opposites (e.g., night and day, life and death). Accepting change as inevitable encourages adaptability and resilience, key traits for navigating life's uncertainties. This concept is profoundly applicable to life, as individuals constantly encounter transitions—ageing, shifting relationships, evolving goals, and external circumstances.

In modern psychology, embracing change is essential for personal growth and emotional well-being. Rapid technological advancements epitomize the truth of Heraclitus's words, as societies continuously adapt to new realities. Viewing change as an opportunity rather than a threat can foster growth and innovation.

'You must become who you are' implies growth and evolution, inherently tied to change. Nietzsche’s concept of eternal recurrence suggests that the universe and all its events are in a state of infinite repetition, highlighting the dynamic and cyclical nature of existence. Nietzsche also championed the idea of embracing change and life's uncertainties through his philosophy of amor fati—' love of fate.' This involves accepting and affirming life’s constant transformations.

Bergson’s philosophy resonates with Heraclitus’s notion of flux, seeing life as a ceaseless unfolding of new forms. Bergson emphasized the concept of élan vital (vital force), which describes the creative and evolutionary process of life. He argued that life is not static but a dynamic flow of continuous change and growth.

Although not a philosopher in the traditional sense, Darwin’s theory of evolution underscores the idea of constant change as the engine of life. His scientific perspective supports the view that adaptation to change is necessary for survival, complementing Heraclitus's philosophical assertions. Whoever cannot seek the unforeseen sees nothing, for the known way is an impasse.

'The more things change, the more they stay the same,' observed French novelist Alphonse Karr. While the world around you shifted, the essence of human resilience remained steadfast. You continued to adapt, navigate, and thrive despite the chaos. Men dig tons of earth to find an ounce of gold.

As spring blossomed, so did your adaptability skills. By now, you could pivot on a dime. Had a Zoom meeting scheduled at noon? No problem, because by then you had perfected the 'business on top, pyjamas (or even underwear) on the bottom' dress code.

Spring, with its explosion of colour and life, symbolized renewal. The barren landscapes of winter transformed into fields of vibrant flowers, a testament to the power of change and new beginnings. Each blossom whispered a promise that no matter how harsh the winter, spring would always follow. It was a season of hope, where every bud represented a fresh start, encouraging you to embrace new opportunities with open arms. As Albert Camus so eloquently put it, 'In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.'

Winter began the year with a quiet stillness, teaching you the virtue of patience. As the world lay dormant under a blanket of snow, you learned that not all progress is visible. Beneath the frost-covered surface, seeds of future growth were quietly gathering strength. It was a reminder that sometimes, the most important work happens in silence, away from the spotlight.

Summer brought warmth and abundance, teaching you about harmony and balance. The long, sun-drenched days were a gentle nudge to find equilibrium in your own life. Nature was in full bloom, and so were you—cultivating a balance between work, rest, and play. The season reminded you that growth requires not just effort, but also moments of relaxation and joy. As John Muir once said, 'In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks.'

Autumn, with its fiery hues and falling leaves, was a lesson in letting go. The trees shed their leaves in a graceful dance, showing you that there is beauty in release. It was a time to reflect on the year, to let go of what no longer served you, and to make space for new growth. The crisp air and golden light encouraged introspection and gratitude for the cycle of life. As the leaves fell, you found harmony in accepting change, recognizing that endings are just as natural as beginnings. Marcus Aurelius, the Stoic philosopher, captured this sentiment perfectly, 'The universe is change; our life is what our thoughts make it.'

Through each season, natural phenomena like thunderstorms, gentle rains, and clear skies provided additional insights. A thunderstorm’s sudden intensity reminds you of the power and impermanence of challenges. A gentle rain nourished the earth and your spirit, demonstrating the importance of small, consistent efforts. Clear skies offered moments of clarity and perspective, a chance to see the bigger picture and find your place within it.

And the concept of a time machine—an alluring metaphor for our journey through life. In many ways, life itself can be seen as a time machine, continually transporting us through moments, memories, and experiences that shape who we are.

Imagine stepping into a time machine, setting the dial to any point in your past or future. This act of time travel is akin to reflection and anticipation, two vital components of the human experience. When we reflect on our past, we navigate through a mosaic of memories, each one a stepping stone that has led us to our present. Similarly, when we anticipate the future, we engage in the art of possibility, dreaming and planning for what lies ahead.

Back to Heraclitus, he says, 'Pythagoras may well have been the deepest in his learning of all men. And still, he claimed to recollect details of former lives, being in one a cucumber and one time a sardine. Of all the words yet spoken, none comes quite as far as wisdom, which is the action of the mind beyond all things that may be said. Of all the words yet spoken, none comes quite as far as wisdom, which is the action of the mind beyond all things that may be said. Wisdom is the oneness of mind that guides and permeates all things.' (from 'Fragments: The Collected Wisdom of Heraclitus, translated by Brooks Haxton, 2001, Viking Penguin)

Reflection on the past is a powerful tool for growth. By revisiting moments of joy, sorrow, triumph, and failure, we gain insights that guide our present actions. The philosopher Søren Kierkegaard once said, “Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” This encapsulates the essence of our metaphorical time machine—by looking back, we derive meaning from our experiences, which in turn informs our journey forward.

'The past is history' is a saying that means that events that have already happened are finished and cannot be changed. It implies that people should focus on the present and the future and that they can learn from the past but cannot go back and change it.

Will and Ariel Durant in The Lessons of History (1996, Simon & Schuster Paperbacks) distil decades of historical analysis into universal themes and insights about the patterns and principles governing human history. Durants define history, in its troublesome duplexity, as the events or records of the past. Human history is a brief spot in space, and its first lesson is modesty. At any moment a comet may come too close to the earth and set our little globe turning topsy-turvy in a hectic course, or choke its men and fleas with fumes or heat; or a fragment of the smiling sun may slip off tangentially—as some think our planet did a few astronomic moments ago—and fall upon us in a wild embrace ending all grief and pain. We accept these possibilities in our stride, and retort to the cosmos in the words of Pascal, 'When the universe has crushed him man will still be nobler than that which kills him, because he knows that he is dying, and of its victory, the universe knows nothing.'

Will and Ariel Durant in The Lessons of History (1996, Simon & Schuster Paperbacks) distil decades of historical analysis into universal themes and insights about the patterns and principles governing human history. Durants define history, in its troublesome duplexity, as the events or records of the past. Human history is a brief spot in space, and its first lesson is modesty. At any moment a comet may come too close to the earth and set our little globe turning topsy-turvy in a hectic course, or choke its men and fleas with fumes or heat; or a fragment of the smiling sun may slip off tangentially—as some think our planet did a few astronomic moments ago—and fall upon us in a wild embrace ending all grief and pain. We accept these possibilities in our stride, and retort to the cosmos in the words of Pascal, 'When the universe has crushed him man will still be nobler than that which kills him, because he knows that he is dying, and of its victory, the universe knows nothing.'

Early Greek thinkers sought the stuff of which the world was made. For Thales, it was water; for Anaximenes, air; for Anaximander, a combination of hot and cold. Empedocles expanded the stuff to four indestructible elemental principles, while Anaxagoras is said to have proposed innumerable generative seeds composing the nature of things. The Atomists abstracted the seeds yet further, proposing multiple particles moving in a void. The Pythagoreans found the truth of the world lies in numbers, their proportions and relations, and Parmenides, the most metaphysical of them all, laid out his theory of the cosmos through the sheer power of logical thought.

Heraclitus took a different tack. His method is more psychological. He posited no basic substance, nor did he abstract the world of the senses into numbers, atoms, or assertions about Being as a whole. Instead, he said, nothing is stable; all is in flux. Whatever you say about anything, its opposite is equally true. He brought language into the game of cosmological thinking. Declarations will always be self-contradictory, relative, and subjective.

History, according to Durants, is subject to geology. Every day the sea encroaches somewhere upon the land, or the land upon the sea; cities disappear under the water, and sunken cathedrals ring their melancholy bells. Mountains rise and fall in the rhythm of emergence and erosion; rivers swell and flood, or dry up, or change their course; valleys become deserts, and isthmuses become straits. To the geologic eye all the surface of the earth is a fluid form, and man moves upon it as insecurely.

Geography is the matrix of history, its nourishing mother and disciplining home. Its rivers, lakes, oases, and oceans draw settlers to their shores, for water is the life of organisms and towns, and offers inexpensive roads for transport and trade. Egypt was “the gift of the Nile,” and Mesopotamia built successive civilizations “between the rivers” and along their effluent canals. India was the daughter of the Indus, the Brahmaputra and the Ganges; China owed its life and sorrows to the great rivers that (like ourselves) often wandered from their proper beds and fertilized the neighbourhood with their overflow. Italy adorned the valleys of the Tiber, the Arno, and the Po. Austria grew along the Danube, Germany along the Elbe and the Rhine, France along the Rhone, the Loire, and the Seine. Petra and Palmyra were nourished by oases in the desert.

The influence of geographic factors diminishes as technology grows. The character and contour of a terrain may offer opportunities for agriculture, mining, or trade, but only the imagination and initiative of leaders, and the hardy industry of followers, can transform the possibilities into fact; and only a similar combination can make a culture take form over a thousand natural obstacles. Man, not the earth, makes civilization.

The Durants emphasize how geography shapes civilizations, determining access to resources, trade routes, and natural defences. History is a fragment of biology: the life of man is a portion of the vicissitudes of organisms on land and sea. Sometimes, wandering alone in the woods on a summer day, we hear or see the movement of a hundred species of flying, leaping, creeping, crawling, and burrowing things.

Nature smiles at the union of freedom and equality in our utopias. Freedom and equality are sworn and everlasting enemies, and when one prevails the other dies. Leave men free, and their natural inequalities will multiply almost geometrically, as in England and America in the nineteenth century under laissez-faire. To check the growth of inequality, liberty must be sacrificed, as in Russia after 1917. Even when repressed, inequality grows; only the man who is below the average in economic ability desires equality; those who are conscious. superior ability desires freedom; and in the end, superior ability has its way.

Durants argue that Morals are the rules by which a society exhorts (as laws are the rules by which it seeks to compel) its members and associations to behave consistent with its order, security, and growth. A little knowledge of history stresses the variability of moral codes and concludes that they are negligible because they differ in time and place, and sometimes contradict each other. A larger knowledge stresses the universality of moral codes and concludes with their necessity. Moral codes differ because they adjust themselves to historical and environmental conditions.

Durants say, History, according to Karl Marx, is economics in action—the contest, among individuals, groups, classes, and states, for food, fuel, materials, and economic power. Political forms, religious institutions, and cultural creations are all rooted in economic realities. So the Industrial Revolution brought with it democracy, feminism, birth control, socialism, the decline of religion, the loosening of morals, the liberation of literature from dependence upon aristocratic patronage, the replacement of romanticism by realism in fiction—and the economic interpretation of history. The outstanding personalities in these movements were effects, not causes; Agamemnon, Achilles, and Hector would never have been heard of had not the Greeks sought commercial control of the Dardanelles; economic ambition, not the face of Helen “fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars,” launched a thousand ships on Ilium; those subtle Greeks knew how to cover naked economic truth with the fig leaf of a phrase.

History has a good word to say for all forms of government, and government in general. Since men love freedom, and the freedom of individuals in society requires some regulation of conduct, the first condition of freedom is its limitation; make it absolute and it dies in chaos. So the prime task of government is to establish order; organized central force is the sole alternative to incalculable and disruptive force in private hands. Power naturally converges to a centre, for it is ineffective when divided, diluted, and spread, as in Poland under the liberum veto; hence, the centralization of power in the monarchy by Richelieu or Bismarck, over the protest of feudal barons, has been praised by historians. A similar process has centred power in the federal government in the United States; it was of no use to talk of “states’ rights” when the economy was ignoring state boundaries and could be regulated only by some central authority. Today international government is developing as industry, commerce, and finance override frontiers and take international forms.

Durants concluded that the concentration of wealth is natural and inevitable, and is periodically alleviated by violent or peaceable partial redistribution. In this view, all economic history is the slow heartbeat of the social organism, a vast systole and diastole of concentrating wealth and compulsive recirculation.

However, just as a time machine allows us to visit different eras, it also teaches us the importance of living in the present. The present moment is the only place where life truly unfolds, and our reflections on the past or dreams for the future should not overshadow the beauty of now. As the spiritual teacher Eckhart Tolle reminds us, 'Realize deeply that the present moment is all you ever have. Make the Now the primary focus of your life.'

My session in this first part is about to end, so before we move on to the second session, allow me to sing "Mesin Waktu" by Budi Doremi,

Kalau harus ku mengingatmu lagi

[If I must remember you once more]

Aku takkan sanggup dengan yang terjadi pada kita

[ I can't endure what happened to us before]

Jika melupakanmu hal yang mudah

[If forgetting you were simple and light]

Ini takkan berat, takkan membuat hatiku lelah

[It wouldn't be heavy, nor tire my heart's fight]

[Session 2]

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