Anthropologists tell us that the eternal present of primitive tribal consciousness had no sense of past or future to confuse the immediacy of the moment. Now is what happened today, yesterday or last year, in this generation or in some distant one. Without written records to stop the passage of time for them, history was alive and personal only in memory. Events that occurred in the dawn of the tribe’s recollections were owned as living experience; events that were to occur in the future were accepted as part of the continual flow of the present. Individuality, as we understand it, did not exist because they could not conceive of themselves as separate from their tribe. Each life was like an unfolding dream floating in a communal, waking sleep.

This experience of a communal, perpetual now is almost impossible for literate cultures to understand because we’ve divided time into a past, present and future. We’ve also divided our collective identity into individuals who perceive themselves as belonging to a larger community but also separate from it, a contradiction that tribal people would not be able to grasp.

Individuality and time are two concepts that have done much to shape modern civilization. With the help of language and clocks, we can navigate through time, measure and plan, anticipate and adapt to change. With the clear distinction between self and others, we can make conscious choices between supporting the cohesive integrity of our society or allowing the freedom of individual expression. This gives our modern civilization both stability and flexibility.

No system, however, is perfect. The risk for primitive tribes was that they could not adapt easily to change because their existence was a continuous flow of the present. Without a clearly defined past or future, they lacked the crucial conceptual tools to manage their own circumstances. An undeveloped sense of individuality meant that they were tightly bound to their collective thoughts. And their intimate connection with nature locked them into its rhythms, with no option to escape from this inseparable dependence.

But our modern civilization also comes with risks. The risk inherent in our sense of time is that we can spend it out of touch with the present, either by being lured into a perpetual past that is never fulfilled or into a promised future that never arrives. The risk inherent in our modern sense of individuality is that its unrestrained expression can both fragment our sense of community and initiate changes that are too disruptive to accommodate.

If Marshall McLuhan is correct that “the medium is the message” — “We invent things and thereafter they invent us” — then the things we invent such as language, tools, writing, printing and the electronic media change our sense of time and self. Writing created our sense of divided time and our individuality. The printing press magnified these effects — mass production is the principle of the printing press applied to the making of goods other than books. And the electronic world of instant communication, McLuhan argued, tends to “retribalize” us. It does this by stressing the importance of the present over the past or future, and by breaking down our sense of individuality that has been created by writing’s solitary reflection. Our electronic inventions are returning us to the conscious state of our preliterate ancestors.

Electric powered technology has mass produced instant communication and made the present irresistibly fascinating. Fashion, gossip, sports, celebrities, fads, murders, disasters, kidnappings, hostages, pop music, the stock market, and even the weather are amplified to crucial importance. Cell phones, PDAs, the internet and up to-the-instant news keep us inescapably connected to the latest moment. Like a little tribe in a little village, we all get and share the same information. The electronic circuitry decrees that nothing is more important than the now; nothing is better, more promising or fulfilling, more exciting or relevant than the present minute. Buy now! Get it now! “In the Middle
East today....” “Reports from Kabul confirm....”

The urgency of the present has become the indispensable ingredient for a life to be fully lived. The truly modern human being is so engrossed in the present that the past and future disappear. The result is the “retribalization” process that McLuhan describes in his media theory.

The other “retribalizing” force is the character of the electronic media itself. Its information arrives in unstoppable and unexaminable waves, in enveloping floods of auditory and visual input that are too dense and fleeting for thoughtful consideration. The flashing faces carry too many messages to process. The music pounds us into submission. Everyone is hurrying, always late for the next important moment.

Into this hectic, speedy and super-charged inner space arrive messages from scientists with warnings of impending environmental disaster if our civilization continues on its existing course. Is anyone inclined to listen? Our response to the collision between our present and our future is blank incredulity. The warnings demand a surrealistic reckoning which is at odds with the mesmerizing reality of the now. Our profligate squandering of oil cannot end! Our exhausted oceans cannot be dying in their increasing acidity! The obliteration of species is unthinkable! A whole planet convulsing with fever is not possible in a world of perpetual now!

We are stumbling forward in our moment-by-moment trance like an ancient tribe watching the strange arrival of cloud-ships. We sense that the coming changes will be profound but we are unable to imagine the consequences or anticipate the impact. Captivated by the enchantment of the present, we are unable to see our tomorrow.