You Forgot 'What If?' (Solarpunk Protopia Fiction)

Part 12: Purpose

"Wow. No, I think you're exactly right," I replied. His disillusionment with capitalism was surprising. Most critics of The Sink didn't share that view. "And we don't force anyone to do anything. Except maybe treat themselves and others with kindness. But we don't force people to work."

His eyebrows drew down, frustration showing on his face. "Then how is this all getting done?"

I took another chip, trying to think of how to explain it. "Okay, I absolutely get it. And, you're right--the 'dream job' thing is bullshit. But people made things and invented things and fixed things long before capitalism. And they do all those things under capitalism, without making money. A lot of people want to build and create and fix and improve. Maybe to show that they can, maybe because they just like tinkering or painting or whatever, maybe because they really want to fix a problem--I'm sure there's tons of reasons," I told him. "And when our needs are taken care of here--food, water, electricity, shelter, community, creativity--a lot of us have more time to discover what we like and what we want to do. A lot of us already knew and came to The Sink to have more time to do those things. And, to do those things in a community that would appreciate what we're doing, you know?"

I could see the idea wrestling with others behind Sinclair's guarded eyes. He shook his head, but his tone softened. "Look, if I had everything taken care of, you know what I'd do?"

I gave him a soft smile. "What would you do, Sinclair?" I actually wanted to know.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I would watch TV, I would play with my kids, I would read books, I would play video games, I would take lots and lots of naps. There's no way in hell I would be fixing washing machines or growing tomatoes."

"Those are things, Sinclair!" At that moment, I wanted to grab him and hug him. He had, like most of us, been taught that his life was nothing, unless he was doing something for someone else's gain. "Watching TV, playing with your kids, reading books, playing video games, even taking naps--those are all important things! Just because you're not fixing something or creating something doesn't mean it's not important."

His brow furrowed again, with confusion this time. "What do you mean?"

"We wouldn't have very many TV shows if no one watched them. We wouldn't have many books or video games if no one enjoyed them. Those things matter! At the very least, they matter to the people who created the show, the book, and the game, but they matter to other people who enjoy them, too. It's a lot more fun to watch or play or read something when you can talk about it with someone else. That's community. That's culture. And playing with your kids? That's incredibly important! Growing up and feeling good about yourself comes from someone spending time with you and giving you attention and showing that you matter to them. And even naps are important. There's nothing wrong with rest." I know he must've seen pity in my eyes when I looked at him, but I couldn't help it. "None of those things are 'nothing.'"

"Hm." He looked down at the plate of salsa, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. But the pensive look in his eyes wasn't sarcastic or cynical anymore. He was considering, at least. "Pretty sure society doesn't function if we all just laid around all day."

"You're right, it wouldn't. And it is true that some things generate more appreciation and respect than others. You wanna know why a lot of people do the 'hard' jobs? Like, learning how to fix robots and repair trams and build aquaponic systems? Because they get a lot of respect and appreciation when they do it. That's why we have so many clubs and groups and teams. That's why we share so much information about what's happening in The Sink. We want people to be supported and appreciated, we want people to know what each other are doing and why it's important. If someone is overwhelmed or stuck, we want them to have other people they can talk to and work with." I paused, and looked Sinclair in the eyes. "If you were doing 'nothing,' and a friend needed your help, asked for your help, would you help them?"

"Yeah, of course."

"That's not nothing."

He frowned. "I'm not sure how much help I could offer if I'd spent my life watching TV."

"Sometimes, all you need is someone to hold a wrench or weed a garden. Sometimes, all you need is someone to listen. And all of that is valuable." I swallowed, unsure if I wanted to share one of The Sink's deepest wisdom with him. I knew it would hurt to see him smirk at it. But he needed to know. "We tell people here that they matter. That they're important, just because they're here, they're alive. Not because of what they do or what they know. And we mean it, because of what I just said. Your time, your attention, your participation, your thoughts, your energy, your presence--it matters." My voice got quiet without me realizing.

This time, he didn't grunt or smirk or scoff. His gaze stayed fixed on the salsa. When he spoke, he tried to keep his voice steady, but something held it back, caught on it. Maybe fear. Maybe guilt. "How could you matter if you don't help anyone?"

I studied him, but he didn't look at me. Is that why you're a journalist? Because you wanted to help people? Because you wanted to matter? But I didn't ask. Instead, I thought of a different approach. "Have you ever wrote a story that no one wanted to read? Or felt alone in a crowded room? Or wished you could tell somebody something, but no one would listen?" I paused. "Have you ever wished you could be something to someone, but it just seemed like... nobody really needed you?"

He looked up at last, tilting his head, studying me back.

"Reading someone's story, watching someone's show. Listening. Being there for someone. Asking other people for help." I gave a soft smile. "All of that matters. All of it helps. And you don't have to do it all the time. It doesn't have to be your 'full-time job' to matter. You do help other people. We all do."

He nodded slowly. I braced for some sharp comment. I knew that naked emotion was tough for a lot of people, especially cynical people.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked. It was a surprisingly earnest question.

I nodded. "Yes, I do. And, moreover, I think people are kinder to each other, to themselves, to everything, when they don't have to prove that they matter, or prove or decide who or what is meaningful or why."

Sinclair nodded, thinking. For once, he wasn't scribbling his thoughts in his notebook.

"You ask a screwdriver what its purpose is, what its function is, why it exists--it's a tool," I went on. "You don't ask why a tree exists, or what its purpose is. You wouldn't ask the ocean. It just is. And we enjoy it, we appreciate it, for all the things that it is--a tree is shade, it's clean air, it's wood, it's fruit, it's flowers, it's leaves, it's a place for birds and bugs, it's pretty to look at, it makes more trees--I could go on forever! To me, it seems just as silly to ask a person what their job or purpose is. You don't have a job or purpose--you're not a tool."

Sinclair was quiet for several seconds, studying the bar and thinking. I gazed around at the rich garden, full of colors, foods, smells, shade, and life.

"I think that's an interesting perspective," he finally said. He was writing in the notebook again, though slower this time. "But I think a lot of people would struggle with the idea that their life doesn't have a purpose, but they still matter."

I nodded. "I know. But when did we decide we had to have a purpose to matter?" I asked. "Especially just one purpose. That 'purpose in life' thing. Is that a helpful exercise? Who decided that we had to have a purpose? Who decided that that was important? And why? I think it's just made a lot of people feel like they're not enough." I took a breath. "But, I think we learned that stuff, it's not automatic. And we can unlearn it, too. Just like the 'dream job.'"

"Well." He shook his head quickly, as if shaking out of a thought, and took another chip. "I don't know how I got so side-tracked. I wanted to know about The Sink."

Back to business. I smiled. "I'm happy to help."