Jenga

Most people are familiar with a game called Jenga. Players remove rectangular blocks one-by one from a tower and place them on top without collapsing the tower. The person who removes the last block successfully and places it on top is the winner. The game is over when the tower collapses under its own weight. It’s a fun game for a party, but it’s not so much fun in many other areas. Let’s consider six.

Health Jenga. Players discredit or reject health advice from professionals and reputable institutions one piece at a time and see how long it takes for personal or national health to collapse. The winner is the last person to benefit from science or who makes the most money from unvetted cures.

Ethical Jenga. Players rationalize selfish ethical decisions one-by-one and see how long it takes for society to collapse. The winner is the last person to claim an advantage for himself while denying it to others or the one who makes the most money by exploiting the work and accomplishments of others.

Constitutional Jenga. Players disregard parts of a country’s constitution one-by-one and see how long it takes until the law becomes subject to the whims of one man and the whole constitutional structure collapses. The winner is the last person to capitalize on the remnants of the rule of law.

Economic Jenga. Players transfer wealth from the poor to the rich a billion at a time until there is nothing left to spend and the economy collapses. The winner is the last person to extract wealth while preventing others from being rewarded for their work or the one who simply amasses the most wealth.

Climate Jenga. Players disregard scientific evidence one piece at a time and see how long it takes for the effects of climate change to become indisputable. Then it will be too late to prevent collapse. The winner is the last person to build a secluded private refuge or the one who makes the most money from the status quo.

Geopolitical Jenga. Players alienate trading partners and allies one-by-one until trading relationships and alliances collapse, leading to the isolation and collapse of one or all nations. The winner is the last nation standing or more likely, no one.

In all these games, we play with established structures at our own risk, even though those “towers” are far from perfect. In the original game, the blocks are stacked with care, but there are imperfections in the wood, the finish, and the spacing. In real life there are flaws – cracks in the system. There is certainly room for improvement. But that does not justify removing blocks just to “disrupt the system,” or just because some claim they know better than all others.

In past societal collapses, the blocks were removed one-by-one, by so-called leaders, until society could no longer function adequately. In Rome, barbarians finally took advantage of the collapse. In Nazi Germany, it took the aftermath of a world war to put society back together again. I can’t recall a collapse that happened without violence, especially when an autocratic or oligarchic tower fell. No doubt, those at the top hoped to keep their wobbly system from collapsing. When leaders are addicted to power, they hold on tight, like misers ravenous for more riches, or toddlers who throw tantrums to get their way.

If civilization falls, next time it will fall hard. When the great civilizations of antiquity fell, electrical power generation, industrial automation, mechanized agriculture, food and manufacturing supply chains, modern sanitation, telecommunication and computer technology (all dependent on electricity), as well as nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons did not exist. If humans must rebuild civilization, they will be starting from a position of wreckage and depleted resources. The low-hanging fruits of fossil fuels, minerals, and natural substances have already been plucked. It might be like trying to repair a damaged jet engine with a hammer and trying to fuel it with bacon fat.

If the other versions of the game weren’t bad enough, Spiritual Jenga threatens our souls. Little by little, we can lose our souls as we seek profit, privilege, and power. Players are tempted to let pieces of themselves be taken way, like blocks on a Jenga tower. In The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis wrote, “Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one–the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts…” We can play Spiritual Jenga and wait for our souls to collapse into oblivion, or we can choose not to play any of these games. Outside of the original, the stakes are simply too high.