Josiah’s Thoughts - Degrees of Separation

Thoughts | Josiah Friesen

Sights | Victoria Hong

You know what’s interesting to me? You’re sitting there, reading this, and you’re sounding out the words written on your screen aloud in your head. You don’t know which word is about to come next, but your brain has a vague idea, and because of your skill with grammar and language, as each word passes into your field of focus on the screen, your brain deciphers it and converts it into meaningful thought. You’re doing it right now! You’re sitting there, thinking about how your brain is acting out the very thing that you’re reading about! And now you’re thinking about how I just accurately described what you’re thinking about! Fantastic. This article is off to an excellent start, wouldn’t you say? Consider this a mental warm up. Now that your brain is nice and sweaty, I’ll get right into it. Into the article, I mean –– not your brain.

Degrees of Separation. For those of you who don’t know, a degree of separation is an acquaintanceship between two people. Multiple degrees of separation occur when you know someone who knows someone else. Allow me to explain this in simple terms. For example: I know Bob. There is one degree of separation between me and Bob. Bob knows a shady fellow named Craig. (Don’t talk to Craig.) There is one degree of separation between Bob and Craig. However, I do not know Craig. (Thank God.) Since I know Bob, who knows Craig, there are two degrees of separation between me and Craig. (I wish there were more degrees of separation between me and Craig.) At this point I’m really hoping you read the first paragraph because if your brain isn’t warmed up, you’re probably about to get in way over your head.

So. There is a theory called the Six Degrees of Separation, which suggests that every individual person is connected to each other by six –– or less –– relationships. That means that you know someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows Justin Bieber. (I know, crazy stuff.) You’re reading these words, thinking of celebrities that you potentially know through six (or, if you’re extra lucky, maybe five!) degrees of separation. I promise you that Justin Bieber isn’t as psyched about this as you are.

This pattern can extend to account for all the people who have ever lived as well. Granted, Facebook wasn’t around in the 1600s, so your great great great great (+ 5 more “great”s) Grandfather couldn’t claim to be acquaintances with William Shakespeare just because he had a mutual friend with him. Of course if your great great great great (+ 5 more “greats”s) Grandfather actually was William Shakespeare, then through nine degrees of separation, you know Shakespeare. Congratulations on being a super cool person. Regardless, this theory would still hold across time, as long as you increase the number of degrees of separation you allow for, considering that social media didn't exist to connect people in the way it does today. It’s safe to assume that I’m separated from my great great great great grandfather by six degrees of separation, not accounting for the fact that every great grandfather in that chain is no longer with us. Thus, I ‘know’ all of his acquaintances through 6 + whatever degree of separation he was connected to them by.

The interesting thing about this article is that you can pinpoint the exact moment in the text where all sense of plausibility and focus goes out the window. With that said, consider the following: imagine if there were a disconnect in degrees of separation. Imagine ‘generation A’, whose children, ‘generation B’,  are all born in the same year. Generation B grows up, and their parents grow older. Soon, the people in generation B become the oldest people on the planet. What if, hypothetically speaking, all memory of generation A was removed from the minds of generation B? If every person forgot about their parents and any member of any generation older than themselves? Not only do they forget the names and faces of those that came before them, but any notion of their existence whatsoever. This isn’t exactly your typical Tuesday night, but bear with me. This would essentially create a disconnect in the degrees of separation. Everyone from generation A and before would be connected by degrees of separation. Presumably generation B and everyone after them would also be connected by degrees of separation. However, there would be an irreparable divide in the middle of generation A and B. This directionless and improbable thought experiment brings up an interesting insurance policy that we didn’t even know we had: records and physical possessions.

To explain why those two things are important, allow me to describe a world without them. Imagine a world where mankind is only an inhabitant. In this world, mankind has built no buildings, recorded nothing and manipulated no resources, beyond those strictly needed for food and limited shelter. The production of food even then is strictly hunting and gathering, with a strict absence of agricultural infrastructure. The only way people know what came before them is through those of the previous generation. Now imagine if this generational-memory-gap-scenario came to pass in this world. The younger generation would attempt to postulate what came before them, but they would have nowhere to turn for answers. As far as they would know, since there would be no evidence of anyone having lived before them, they may as well be the first humans to have ever lived. They would find themselves as the oldest occupiers of an untouched planet. This would effectively mean, for them and for any form of civilization that would spawn from them, that they were the first. For all intents and purposes, previous generations, their stories, and their accomplishments would never have happened.

This is why records and physical possessions are our most crucial insurance policies. Even if the memory-divide were to occur, by observing these cultural artifacts, generation B would still have knowledge of those who came before them: proof of their existence wouldn’t disappear from the earth. Records and physical possessions are the concrete in which our legacies are preserved. We can rest assured knowing that if the generation after us ever has a mass-amnesia and forgets about us, they’ll at least know of our existence because of the remnants of our generation and every generation previous. This long, winding and rambling entry in Josiah’s Thoughts can be summarized as follows: someday, the Tupperware that’s sitting in the fridge with your name on it, (so that the Craigs of the world don’t steal your food), could be the remnant of your life that tells someone in the future that you existed.