Can we enjoy material progress without sacrificing a simple lifestyle?

The Hipposaur’s house is at the edge of the city. A short walk, and urban concrete gives way to a semi-rural scene. The Hipposaur, Bracy and I were walking down a road near this place. On one side of the road, at a distance, we could see the city skyline; on the other side of the road lay open fields and mud houses with thatched roofs. One of us commented that a few years ago this place was just a simple village, but the city grew and encroached upon the fields. At this rate in a few years’ time the village on our right would cease to exist and more concrete would cover up the area. He lamented the fact that the simple way of life of the village, still struggling to exist, would then be lost forever. Another retaliated saying why should these villagers be denied the comforts that we enjoy; why should they live in poverty while we live in the comfort and security of well-constructed houses, making full use of the material benefits of the progress of science?

I think this point of view is often ignored. Culture can only develop after a certain degree of security is attained. Man’s first instincts are those of survival and procreation. It is only after these are assured that he can indulge in poetry, music, the arts and the like. People like me are born into an environment and an era where survival is assured. We inherit the culture of a highly advanced global civilization. We are sophisticated cosmopolitan intellectuals whose ideas owe more to books than to lived experience. We have experienced life in the city and are disillusioned by its pace, its materialism and its lack of significance. We look on the other side of the road at the ‘simple’ life of our collective past, and suddenly the lack of electricity becomes Romantic and appealing to a degree.

In such moments we are inspired by ideas similar to those of the Romantic notions of the ‘noble savage’ and of a time when things were much less complicated. For Synge and other Irishmen of his time, the Aran Islands were a Garden of Eden. But for the people of Aran, its natives, life on Aran was one of unceasing hardship and danger. The ‘savage’ saw nothing ‘noble’ in such a life.

We who have experienced materialistic lifestyles believe that the simple life has more meaning and greater potential for happiness (the ultimate human goal). Many writers have celebrated the divinity of such a life. We don’t want the people who lead such an ‘unsullied’ life to change and be ‘corrupted’ by our lifestyle. But what moral right do we have to tell them not to change? We continue to live in comfort and tell them to live in hardship so that they can continue to be symbols which cater to our Romantic notions and ideals. Perhaps to us they represent some yet uncorrupted (or incorruptible) part of human nature and we don’t want this to change for it offers us some hope for redemption from our own fallen present.

But how many of us who have already experienced the comfort, ease and security of modern life can actually endure a life of relative hardship and uncertainty without the basic amenities which we take for granted?

I am not on the side of mechanical advancement which erases traditional lifestyles. I am merely exploring an argument which I have not given much thought to before.

Perhaps the solution lies in providing basic amenities like clean drinking water, electricity and affordable medical facilities to these people while at the same time trying to preserve their customs and traditions. But can older customs be preserved once these amenities (a feature of the modern world) have been introduced? Language and culture are never static: they are always changing. No one will boil water when they can simply switch on the Aquaguard. After experiencing the comforts that modern life can provide, will these people not prefer them over their older traditions of a harder life? And if they do so, how can these older traditions—the simple way of life—be preserved?