Progress and Perdition

"Nature does nothing in vain. - Aristotle

Natural selection often goes unnoticed as the driving force behind the rise and fall of civilizations. It's ironic, really, because, without this ancient, unfeeling, and indifferent mechanism, we wouldn't be here. It's not some random process, as materialists would have us believe. No, it's an ingenious, self-regulating system.

Imagine designing a world. What better safeguard for life could exist than a process capable of adapting to environmental challenges? Natural selection is a divine construct, ensuring life's survival in a constantly shifting world. Its brilliance lies in its ability to promote stability and innovation without external intervention, enabling the progression of life no matter the challenges.

To understand natural selection as a highly complex regulatory system is to realize the arrogance of dismissing it. We don't ignore it because we don't know better. We do so out of hubris, believing we've outgrown it and can replace it.

"Man follows the earth. Earth follows the universe. The universe follows the Tao. The Tao follows what is natural." - Lao Tzu

Natural selection isn't just some passive force; it's the immune system of the species. It guided humanity's every step for millennia, shaping us into what we are. Yet, at some point, every advanced civilization thinks they can do better. They cure diseases, protect themselves from famine, and build societies so insulated from nature that they begin to believe the ancient laws no longer apply.

These extraordinary achievements come at a price—a price every civilization pretends it can afford. We can argue all day about whether progress is worth it. I'll admit it's a debate with no easy answers. But the facts remain: when a people cuts ties with the natural world, they start down a dangerous road.

Populations explode beyond what the civilization is capable of sustaining. Urbanization leaves entire generations disconnected from the land that once gave them life. Advances in medicine and technology allow traits that were once selected against to multiply exponentially.

It starts with small, nearly imperceptible changes. Populations grow more dependent on systems of comfort and convenience, and natural selection, the force that once pruned weaknesses, is slowly cast aside. The best and brightest individuals still emerge, but their numbers dwindle in proportion to the whole. Over time, innovation slows, resources stretch thin, and the same system that once propelled the civilization forward begins to falter.

The worst part? This isn't just a breakdown of biology—it's a breakdown of belief. By removing all selection pressures, a civilization doesn't just turn its back on nature; it turns its back on God. Natural selection is not a creation of man, and therefore it is not his to change in the first place. It was given to man, as part of the divine order, a mechanism as sacred as it is brutal. And yet, man dares to declare it obsolete.

Humanity began as small, nomadic tribes, shaped by scarcity and struggle. The harshness of the natural world demanded intelligence, adaptability, and resourcefulness. Every decision mattered. Every day was a test of survival. And through this crucible of existence, natural selection worked its magic, refining the species over millennia.

With the invention of agricultural techniques, humans could grow more food than they immediately needed. This freed up time, allowing individuals to specialize in roles beyond mere survival. The birth of craftsmanship, leadership, and innovation followed. Civilization began to flourish.

But herein lies the twist: the very advancements that lifted humanity also planted the seeds of its eventual decline. As societies advanced, they began insulating themselves from the natural pressures that had shaped them. Scarcity gave way to abundance, hardship to comfort. Natural selection, the ancient law that had guided life for eons, was pushed aside.

This dismissal of natural selection is no different than the modern tendency to believe in linear progress and the omnipotence of human reason. It represents a loss of faith in the divine and natural laws that have shaped our existence.

A man's heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps.

Proverbs 16:9

It's not that these advancements are inherently bad. Medicine, technology, and urbanization have brought undeniable benefits. But they've also created a world where maladaptive traits can survive unchecked. Diseases that once killed now linger. Traits once selected against now multiply. Over time, the balance shifts, and civilizations find themselves weighed down by an ever-increasing quantity of individuals less equipped to contribute to their growth and stability.

At the peak of its power, a civilization feels invincible. It reaches a moment of equilibrium where the balance of nature and technology allows the civilization to believe it is the master of the world. The systems it has created appear self-sustaining. The engines of progress hum along, seemingly independent of the natural order. But this moment of triumph is also the moment of the greatest danger.

History shows us this pattern time and again. Rome was built on the strength of disciplined citizens, hardened by war and scarcity. But as the empire grew, its citizens grew soft, and the ratio of productive to unproductive individuals tipped. The French Revolution, too, arose from a society stretched to its limits, with an unbalanced population unable to sustain its grandeur. Today, industrialization and urbanization have led to similar trends where populations are increasingly disconnected from the land and reliant on artificial systems to survive.

This isn't just about population growth or technological dependence; it's about a deeper, more fundamental transformation. As societies progress, they lose sight of the natural and the divine. The connection to the land, to the rhythms of life, and to God Himself fades. What replaces it... Hubris. The belief that we can engineer our way out of every problem. That we can replace the laws of nature with bureaucracy, technology, and ideology.

"The health of a democratic society may be measured by the quality of functions performed by private citizens." -Alexis de Tocqueville

When systems begin to break down, the cracks become impossible to ignore. Democracy is the harbinger of civilizational deterioration, it is a system that can only thrive with a society made up of capable and virtuous citizens. Thus it appears at the apex of populational fitness but becomes its undoing as that fitness wanes. When the majority of the citizenry lacks the ability to act outside of its base desires, it falters, and leadership shifts, not to the most competent or ethical, but to those who can manipulate the masses.

This is where Caesarism comes in. When representative governments collapse, they do so under their own weight, and the people seek strong leaders to impose order. Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte—history is filled with figures who stepped in when systems failed. But Caesarism is not a solution; it's a bandage. It can stabilize a society in the short term, but it cannot reverse the long-term effects of rejecting nature. It cannot undo the cultural and biological decay that brought about the crisis in the first place.

The problem isn't political. It's existential. A civilization can only function as long as it respects the balance between progress and the forces that shaped it. When that balance is lost, decline becomes inevitable.

The collapse of advanced civilizations is not a mystery. It's a process with a clear modus operandi. Societies rise when they respect the natural order and fall when they abandon it. The moment they sever their ties to nature and God, they begin their descent. The story of man is the Tower of Babel told time and again.

To see this in action, just look at the selective breeding of animals. Take dogs, for instance. Nature functioning as God designed it gave birth to man's best friend. When man first began to manipulate this process, he created breeds, ones developed for specific purposes—hunting, herding, and guarding. But as man lost his connection to nature, the breeding became more about aesthetics than function, and the health and resilience of many breeds suffered. The English bulldog, for instance, is a prime example of man's meddling. It is a breed that cannot survive without human intervention. In the same way, advanced civilizations, in their pursuit of comfort and progress, breed populations increasingly reliant on an artificial world.

This isn't an argument for eugenics. It is a recognition that man thrives when he is in communion with the world as God designed it. There must be a balance between nature and rationality where man respects the forces that allowed him to flourish. Human innovation, as incredible as it is, must remain subordinate to the natural and the divine. When a civilization forgets this, it paves the way for its undoing. That is the story of man, the story of Adam, the Tower of Babel, that is our greatest sin, the rejection of God's wisdom for our own.

Woe unto him that striveth with his Maker! Let the potsherd strive with the potsherds of the earth. Shall the clay say to him that fashioneth it, What makest thou? or thy work, He hath no hands?

Isaiah 45:9

-TJS