An evergreen reminder: This too shall pass

The story goes that an ancient Persian ruler asked his sages for wisdom that would be true and helpful in all circumstances. The sages replied with, "This too shall pass."

Like many stories, the origins of this one are lost to the mists of time. It's been passed down and retold so many times, there's no way of knowing whether it derives from a real historical event, or the identity of the ruler concerned if so.

Nevertheless, the tale endures because it reflects a profound truth. Humans are blinded by immersion in the present. We tend to assume that the way things are now is the way they'll always be.

The truth is that nothing lasts forever. Change is the only constant, as philosophers from both Eastern and Western cultures knew. Hindu and Buddhist writers called it samsara, the cyclic wheel of transmigration from one state to another. Roman and medieval European philosophers used a similar metaphor, the wheel of fortune, or rota fortunae, to which kings, nobles, clerics and peasants were bound.

Millions of people have grown up with this teaching. But even when we've learned it in an abstract sense, it's hard to apply it consistently. It demands an effort of imagination to rise above our current circumstances and take a broader perspective.

The proverb cuts both ways

As natural as this tendency is, it brings us to grief in both directions.

In the depths of darkness, in times of ascendant fascism and societal disintegration, present bias leads us to despair. It seduces us into believing that that humans are inherently corrupt and evil and that the cause of progress is hopeless. It tells us that things will never change, so belief in a better tomorrow is foolish naivete.

In good times, too, present bias leads us astray. It's one of the reasons why people don't save for rainy days, why they're not prepared for a layoff, a health crisis or any other unexpected blow. It's why lottery winners blow through their fortunes, because they believe they'll have limitless money forever.

On a larger scale, present bias is the reason liberal voters' hopes end up dashed time and time again. We have a habit of getting too excited, hailing every progressive victory as the dawning of a new era of enlightenment. But history tends to move in cycles of advance and retrenchment. When the inevitable backlash appears and undoes some or all of what was achieved, it comes as a crushing disappointment, all the more so because it was unexpected.

In both cases, our expectations are like boats bobbing on the waves, being lifted up and then dropped in stomach-churning plunges. A more even-keeled approach would save us much pain and grief. It would temper our expectations in good times and ward off despair in bad times. We should all remember that thrilling triumphs and sunny days are fleeting, but so are black clouds and dark days of grief. Both rise, and both pass away as dependably as the cycle of the seasons.

This proverb might seem like a tautology, but then again, not everyone agrees with it. There are people who don't believe "this too shall pass." They believe that we live at the hinge of history, and that, for better or for worse, the world is about to assume its final configuration.

On one side are the pessimists. In every era, including our own, there have been religious apocalypse-believers who proclaim that the world is in its death throes and will soon be destroyed by divine wrath. There are also secular doomers who believe that civilization is about to collapse. They say humankind is on a greased slide to extinction, whether from nuclear war, climate change, global pandemic, or other, less likely causes.

On the other side of the equation, there are the extreme optimists. Chief among these in our era are the techno-utopians. These Silicon Valley prophets announce that AI is about to transform the world, catapulting us into post-scarcity heaven. They predict the imminent arrival of superintelligence that will trivially solve every problem, bless us with limitless resources, and upload our minds into immortality. They're so sure this is coming any day now, they believe no other problem is worth worrying about.

Could either of them be right?

No one knows or can know the future, so stating a definitive answer would just be fooling ourselves. However, if you have to bet, you should always put your chips on the most likely outcome.

And so far, the record of history is unanimous. Every empire, every dynasty, every religion, every political order eventually passed away. None of them stood forever, no matter how strenuously its leaders insisted that their reign was eternal, no matter how many monuments they erected to themselves. All of them, in time, were replaced by something else.

Those weatherworn, crumbling statues commemorating long-vanished regimes are a lesson to us. When it seems like nothing will ever be different or better, we should remind ourselves that our time, too, will eventually be a distant memory. And when we're tempted by dreams of shining glory, we should be aware that there will be a future that doesn't include us. Either way, we should live in the present, but not be tied down by it.

Personally, I find that the transience of time and the inevitability of change aren't bleak or depressing, but comforting. It means that the fulcrum of the future doesn't pivot on our shoulders. Not everything depends on this moment.

This isn't to say that conscience is pointless. By all means, do what you can to make the world a better place. But once you've done your part, you should accept that the future will tend to itself, and let go of feeling responsible for how it turns out. For such temporary creatures as we are, the greatest imperative isn't to write our names in the eons, but to spend our finite time joyfully and to live with happiness and purpose here and now.