There And Back Again: A Human's Tale

First of all, if anyone here hasn't read it yet, GO. I promise. Go now, trust me.

You can read it in like twelve minutes!

And it'll mess you up! :D

Ok spoilers ahead baby here we go

So: of the many many incredible themes and messages here, what do we want to dig into first? Op mentioned systemic violence being perpetrated by well-meaning people against themselves, for reasons no one even remembers anymore. You're right; they believe this violence may be regrettable but it's ultimately necessary, even though they could stop doing it at any time. And some cities have stopped, a fact that makes our characters uncomfortable in ways they can't fully articulate.

YES.

And the really striking thing (pun intended because I'm terrible) is that it's direct and visceral violence. They're not just pushing a button or signing an executive order; they're not even just throwing the rocks from ten feet away. The haunting last line is "and then they were upon her." This violence is intimate.

But they still consider themselves good people. They consider their traditions a sacred link to their past and a safeguard for their future. These are normal average people who gossip with each other and tut-tut their children and bitch about taxes.

They are just like us.

And once a year, they commit an act that in any other setting they'd rightly consider an atrocity. And then they all look at each other, their faces covered in blood and dirt and brain matter from someone they've known all their lives (someone who, incidentally, was on board with all this right up until she was the one sacrificed), all of them equally complicit in cold-blooded murder.

And then they go home and have lunch, and the box is carelessly put back in storage until next July.

YESSS

But can we also talk about the gender divide in the story? How the proceedings are run by men - but when a woman is selected, it's the women who move in first? Did you notice that the last thing the victim did in her life was finish up the dishes? Wanna delve into the psychological implications of one woman picking up two small rocks, just enough to be seen participating but not enough to be lethal, while another woman weilds the biggest rock she can lift? Is that second woman succumbing to rage and bloodlust - or is she hoping to end the victim's suffering as quickly as possible?

Want to talk about class divide? Like how wealthy Mr Summers is the one who gets to handle the box and preside over the event, and he's the one who made the black spot and folded all the papers... so it would be incredibly easy for him to mark them in some subtle way that nobody else would notice? Which would explain why he's the only person who's chill and convivial the whole time, because he knows he's gamed the system?

What about the generational divide? How the oldest person in town, oblivious to his own survivor bias, is the most vocal supporter of this tradition with a catchy slogan that ryhmes and everything? How he's the first to loudly shame and scold anyone who might someday question this tradition, because he can't imagine not beating someone to death once a year? Because the only thing more painful than having to think about all the people he's helped slaughter would be if everyone else decided that all those deaths had been pointless? When those children grow up, how many of them will remember all this with disgust - and how many will advocate for bringing the lottery back?

You could even talk about the difference between city folk and country folk, because the larger your population is the better your odds are. How many people moved away from this particular town for that very reason?

Actually wait, I think I first want to talk about something that just recently occurred to me: this story was first published in 1948, just a few years after World War II.

I can't believe I never realized it before, but among all its other messages, "The Lottery" is also about the draft.

The US has always had a... complicated relationship with WWII, because it wasn't fought on our soil but it absolutely shaped our culture. For a lot of Americans, their experience of the war boiled down to various fundraisers, general frugality, and watching Donald Duck's fever dreams about being a Nazi. (For real!) It was something important but distant - something that happened, as the one song put it, Over There.

Oh except for almost every man aged 18-45, who was enrolled in the draft whether he liked it or not. And if your number comes up, well, off you go! Time to fight and kill and die for a good cause! Thank you for your service and/or sacrifice! We're all cool with this, for some reason!

When this story was first published in the New Yorker, it received severe backlash. People were super duper mad. As a teenager, I assumed it had offended so many because they thought there was some small town really doing this, in the same way that Jonathan Swift published "A Modest Proposal" and then immediately had to publish "What?? No, God no, I didn't mean we should ACTUALLY start eating Irish babies, Jesus Christ, what's wrong with you people".

But upon reread, I realized that everyone in 1948 would have immediately spotted the parallels to conscription, because everyone knew someone who'd been torn from his home with no apparent rhyme or reason and either came back broken or never came back at all. And people were told that this is all very good and normal - that your loved one was a hero who died making the whole planet safe for democracy, somehow, a line vague enough to still work today.

So these readers had offered up their sons and brothers and husbands while they held parades and waved banners and felt really good about themselves for being on the right side of history... and then Ms Jackson (I'm nasty) rolls up and says "Actually, what if it wasn't worth it? What if we just killed a bunch of people in horrible ways because that's just what we always do in war? Hey, hey you - yeah YOU, reading this right now. Set aside all the propaganda you've been taught, and ask yourself: how complicit are you in these deaths? How many rocks did you throw in the town square today? How many will you throw next time? How many next times will there be?

Now, you can go to Península Valdés and find that the whale population there is growing year after year, people can see them from their windows. In Iberá, where yaguaretés were extinct for over 70 years, there's now a population of 35 and growing, after being reintroduced just five years ago. As for rainforests?

We've becoming very, very good on restoring them. Natural environments, when given space and time to heal, can return to that they were. And after all, all natural enviroments are managed by human societies. It is up to us to implement a good management, un buen gobierno.

I firmly believe our children and grandchildren will see a restoration of Earth like never before.

Spix's Macaws were extinct in the wild for 70 years, and now captive breeding and conservation groups have reintroduced a small population (with more on the way) and there are babies being successfully raised in the wild again.

And what else is there, but hope? We exist for the grace of hope. Those who have lost all hope don't stay here. If you are here to send an ask like this, it is not because you have given up, it's that you are hoping someone will show you that that hope is worth having.

It is!! It always is!!

The population of an entire island working together to eradicate every last rat and mouse to save the native bird populations. They had to trap a bunch of the birds and keep them in captivity so they wouldn’t be hurt by the rodenticides, and released them after the rodents were gone. Normal residents helped by phoning in tips whenever they saw rodents. And they did it. Lord Howe Island, last I read, remains rodent free, and the native bird populations are rebounding!

Acid rain and the hole in the ozone layer, both of which were terrifying specters of my childhood, have been largely dealt with. Ecosystems devastated by acid rain are also recovering.

In 1991, the first captive-raised condors were re-introduced to Big Sur, Pinnacles, and Bitter Creek.

In 2006, three months before I turned eighteen, the first wild pair of condors was seen nesting in Big Sur in over a hundred years. A hundred years.

We did that. We fixed it.

How about another example.

When my mom was small, in the 1960s, there were many, many days of the year she was not allowed outside. Days and days they had recess indoors, because the air was so poisonous to breathe. Here's an article about it, with some good pictures.

My mom was 13 in the picture on the left. She was 50 in the picture on the right.

In 1987, there were 27 California Condors in the world, all captive.

In 2024, there were 566.

369 of them fly free.

That happened within my lifetime, and I'm not even 40 yet.

When you lose hope, think of our stories we're telling you. Recount them to yourself like a prayer. That's what I do.

There are 369 California Condors flying free in the sky right now.

There is no more acid rain.

There is an ozone.

There are wild tigers.

There are still birds on Lord Howe Island.

By 2013, there were approximately 1,200 living wild, across 18 dens. Their numbers increase regularly, and while the face challenges due to habitat loss, climate change, and their limited genetic diversity, they're in a much better place than they were.

and then on the day of the show, my friend asks, "where is the camera I requested?"

gallerist: "you didn't request a camera"

my friend: "I did, and you confirmed that you would have one here."

gallerist: "that isn't true."

and then she proceeded to pull up the email thread, and my friend could see that every single email they had sent had been summarized by AI, and that the gallerist had then had AI write a response to them based on the AI summary, and that the AI had detected that they needed a camera, and confirmed on behalf of the gallerist that they would bring a camera, but because the gallerist had offloaded the work of actually reading and responding, she simply hadn't actually made any note of it herself, therefore didn't bring it, nor did she even know one was needed.