Monty's Meaning of LifeThere is a theory which states that if anyone discovers just exactly what the universe is for and why we are here, that it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. Then there is a theory which states that this has already happened.

In Douglas Adams’ The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, the computer, Deep Thought, concludes that the answer to the "ultimate question of life, the universe and everything" is the number "42". Helpful, but not without the actual question, which Deep Thought doesn’t know. It takes a planet-size computer called the earth 7 1/2 million years to calculate what the question is. Twenty-four hours before the job is done, a bureaucratic slip-up by a galactic construction crew destroys the earth. It’s so inconvenient, you would think someone would apologize for it.

As luck would have it, David Brooks has the answer, so maybe God doesn’t need to say "Sorry" after all. Bobo is not mostly harmless and frequently seems to panic. But he knows The Meaning of Life. It’s not the Pythonesque vision of Irish washerwomen dropping children like clothes pins in the back garden. The meaning of life lies in a politically malleable, Wagnerian notion called posterity.

In The Power of Posterity, Bobo fantasizes about the consequences of half the earth’s population becoming sterile in an instant. How would that change what we do and why? P.D. James’ Children of Men explored similar territory fifteen years ago, with chilling realism and more maturity:

Not only has P. D. James created a tale of high literary quality, she has courageously extrapolated the chilling outcome of such a scenario. Pets and dolls treated as virtual infants; the despair of millions leading to mass suicide; the accelerated drain of manpower from the Third World to the Old World – there’s nothing outlandish about the author’s suppositions.

Bobo’s purpose is not realism, but catechism. He uses his fantasy like a proscenium arch, to frame his message, in hopes of persuading playgoers that what they see beyond it is true life:

People might focus on living for the moment, valuing the here and now…But, of course, we don’t lead individualistic lives. Material conditions do not drive history. [sic] People live in a compact between the dead, the living and the unborn, and the value of the thought experiment is that it reminds us of the power posterity holds over our lives.

Posterity as used here is as close to the health and welfare of real families as a medieval cathedral was to the teachings of Jesus. A cathedral is an expression of power. And Bobo is spreading the false notion that those who seek it are restrained by thoughts of what posterity or God might do to them if they abuse it. Works well in grade school, not so well in high school, and is nonsense in the political reality of Athens, Rome, Paris, London, Washington, Moscow, Tokyo or Beijing. Politicians care about what the law or other politicians can do to them today: censure, exile, imprisonment, dethronement, death.

The cathedral analogy is helpful because much of Bobo’s thinking is medieval or from the Renaissance (Machiavelli). Like power, a cathedral dominated the eye, the landscape and politics. Its building required a supreme will, a brutal concentration of resources, and generations of taxes and commitment from laborers and citizenry.

Ministering to the needs of the flock – serfs and townsfolk – was not relevant: the here and now did not matter for peasants, or so their church told them. It mattered a great deal to the bishops who collected taxes and glorified themselves God and their god-made king. The cathedral was a monument to their power as much as to God’s. The same is true of the cathedral’s modern equivalents: mega-corporations, banks, armies, statesmen of empire and their houses and capitol buildings.

In short, posterity is political; children and the adults they become are personal. Bobo seems to have that distinction clearly mind, though he avoids articulating it:

Without posterity, there are no grand designs. There are no high ambitions. Politics becomes insignificant. [sic] Even words like justice lose meaning because everything gets reduced to the narrow qualities of the here and now.

If people knew that their nation, group and family were doomed to perish, they would build no lasting buildings. They would not strive to start new companies. They wouldn’t concern themselves with the preservation of the environment….

There would be a radical increase in individual autonomy. Not sacrificing for their own society’s children, people would themselves become children, basing their lives on pleasure and ease instead of meanings to be fulfilled….

[T]here would be brutal division between those with the power to possess the future and those without.

Bobo is not describing a fantasy world; he is describing this one. The juvenalization of the Republican Party under Newt Gingrich and the adultery hiding secrecy bestowed on its members by the Family. The loss of a future as reason to avoid restraint accurately describes the CheneyBush administration and predatory capitalism.

Bobo retreats from this brush with reality with the bromide that he is engaged in a "thought experiment". The world he describes doesn’t exist, which is how he can end with this attempt to become Mitt Romney’s speech writer:

we are blessed with the disciplining power of our posterity. We rely on this strong, invisible and unacknowledged force — these millions of unborn people we will never meet but who give us the gift of our way of life.

Mormon visions aside, the ego hungering for power asks no permission before it takes it. Fear of God and future disdain does not restrain its efforts. Practical consequences are its only roadblocks, which is why such egos fight so hard to avoid them, corrupting the law and government in the process.

Families, on the other hand, are heartbound combinations of women, of men, of children; sometimes one or two, sometimes all three. Their health and happiness demand resources: medical care, schools, fair jobs, a safe environment, the right to speak up and the obligation to listen, and fair and open rules and public consequences for breaching the most important of them.

Those are real needs pressing here and now. We can demand that they be met. Or we can return to medieval priorities and wait until we no longer need them, when we enter the kingdom of God (or the other place). Or we can wait longer, until the politician’s mythical future has come to pass or until Arthur Dent returns home.