The Permutation

And so, we have reached the end.

In the first treatise, we explored the nature of the Universe and discovered that even the most ordinary objects may be nothing more than convenient labels for particular states of matter. In the second, we examined Delusion and found that people can live within entire systems of false beliefs, mistaking them for reality itself. In the third, we described Awakening — the process of freeing oneself from the power of those beliefs. Finally, in the fourth, we came to Initiation, through which individuals unite in a Sect capable of acting as a single whole.

Now one final question remains.

Why?

Is it really so that a handful of exceptionally intelligent people can get together and discuss how much smarter they are than everyone else? To create their own hierarchy, acquire symbols, choose a Leader, and surround it all with enough mystery to sit back and admire the impression they have made?

To be honest, there are certainly pleasures to be had in such an undertaking.

But it would be rather disappointing to devote one’s entire life to it.

We do not consider knowledge an end in itself. Nor do we consider doubt an end in itself. Even Awakening and Initiation are valuable to us not only in their own right, but also for the possibilities they open up.

We seek not merely to understand reality.

We intend to transform it.

In ancient religious teachings, human liberation was often linked to leaving the material world behind. The soul was portrayed as a prisoner of its own body, earthly existence as a temporary trial, and ultimate deliverance as something to be sought beyond the reality available to us.

This is a very convenient solution.

Especially for those who have no intention of changing reality itself.

If suffering is an inevitable part of earthly life, all that remains is to learn to endure it. If injustice has been ordained by a higher power, there is no point in fighting it. If true happiness awaits us after death, then the quality of our present existence matters somewhat less.

Teachings of this kind can bring people comfort, and we do not intend to deny their psychological value. But we are not satisfied with the prospect of endlessly comforting those who suffer instead of investigating and eliminating the causes of their suffering.

We do not propose leaving the World.

We propose changing it.

And fortunately, no supernatural intervention is required to do so.

Humanity has repeatedly demonstrated its ability to change the world around us on a scale that would have seemed utterly incredible just a few centuries ago. We have learned to transform energy, create new materials, control extremely complex chemical processes, intervene in the heredity of living things, and overcome limitations once thought insurmountable.

We have built machines capable of doing the work of thousands of people. We have created communication systems that allow information to be exchanged almost instantaneously between continents. We have learned to detect diseases, prevent them from developing, and treat conditions that once meant almost certain death.

Where hunger, epidemics, and ignorance of natural phenomena once held sway, we now have knowledge and tools that can substantially reduce the power of these circumstances over human life.

And yet the fruits of our achievements are distributed in a very peculiar way.

Humanity has the means of production to provide vast quantities of essential goods, yet millions of people continue to suffer material deprivation. We know how to build public transport systems capable of moving large numbers of people while using relatively little energy and space, yet we continue to build entire cities around the need to own a private car.

We have the technologies and knowledge to substantially reduce the environmental impact of the food system, yet we continue to support production that consumes enormous resources and causes suffering to countless animals.

We have learned to automate work, yet the prospect of freeing people from difficult and monotonous labor is often seen not as a social achievement, but as a threat to their material survival.

The last of these circumstances is especially curious.

For millennia, people have sought to create tools that would let them do necessary work faster and with less effort. Now, as such tools become ever more sophisticated, huge numbers of people fear that using them will deprive them of their livelihoods.

Thus, the creation of tools intended to reduce the need for human labor can lead to a deterioration in the circumstances of the very people those tools were supposed to liberate.

And for some reason, this is considered perfectly normal.

We do not share that attitude.

Of course, there are very real economic reasons why technological change can be accompanied by unemployment, inequality, and other unpleasant consequences. But explaining how a problem arose does not mean accepting it as inevitable.

If a particular way of organizing society means that increased productive capacity comes with a decline in the well-being of part of the population, perhaps society’s very structure should be reconsidered.

We consider this idea quite obvious.

Unfortunately, obviousness has never guaranteed public acceptance.

Here we encounter once again the Error discussed in the second treatise.

People are accustomed to seeing the existing order as natural. Economic relations seem to them not to be the result of historical development, but a feature of reality itself. Political institutions appear necessary in their present form. Social norms that arose under entirely different circumstances continue to shape human behavior centuries after the causes that gave rise to them have disappeared.

And when someone proposes changing this order, they are often told that this is simply the way the World works.

But the World works very differently.

There are no wages, tax returns, corporations, or political borders in nature. These are human conventions that exist thanks to particular forms of collective activity.

They may be useful. Some may even be necessary for a complex society to function. But none of this makes them sacred or immutable.

We created them.

Therefore, we can create others.

This simple fact seems to us one of the most important consequences of Awakening.

A person who does not understand where existing systems come from is forced to take them for granted. A person who recognizes that they are contingent can begin to ask whether they serve any useful purpose.

But possibility does not mean capacity.

One can understand perfectly well that a particular social institution is badly designed and still have no means of changing it. One can know what decisions would improve the lives of millions, yet be unable to convince even a few acquaintances.

Knowledge does not possess political power simply because it is correct.

This is perhaps one of the most unpleasant features of human civilization.

A scientist may spend years investigating a particular problem, gathering evidence, testing hypotheses, and publishing results. Their conclusions may be confirmed by other researchers, become the subject of numerous scientific papers, and gradually acquire increasingly compelling support.

But for those conclusions to influence the way society is organized, something quite different is often required.

A political decision.

And political decisions are made by people whose interests, beliefs, and understanding of reality may have very little to do with the problem under investigation.

This creates a situation in which humanity has the knowledge to substantially improve its own existence, yet continues to act as though that knowledge did not exist.

We consider this waste unacceptable.

Especially because we are not talking about abstract philosophical inconveniences.

Inefficient social decisions have real consequences: years of human life lost, preventable diseases, poverty, the destruction of natural ecosystems, the suffering of living beings, and countless other things that cannot be undone after the fact.

A person who dies of a preventable cause will not come back to life after the next political reform. An extinct species will not reappear when society belatedly acknowledges an ecological mistake. Years spent living in harsh and degrading conditions are not returned once society finally decides that such conditions were unacceptable.

That is why Transformation is not merely a matter of aesthetic preference for us.

We consider it a necessity.

But who benefits from preserving the status quo?

The answer is not as simple as some revolutionaries might like.

It would be convenient to imagine a small group of malicious people consciously controlling every social process, deceiving the public, and obstructing progress purely for the pleasure of seeing others suffer.

Perhaps some people really do take such pleasure in it.

But there is no need to assume such unusual psychology in order to explain most social problems.

Far more often, we encounter people and organizations pursuing ordinary interests.

A company seeks to increase profits. A politician seeks to stay in power. An institution’s manager seeks to avoid trouble and meet established targets. A well-off person seeks to protect their own well-being. A religious organization seeks to retain its influence and spread its beliefs.

Each of these aims may seem perfectly reasonable from the perspective of the person pursuing it.

The problem arises when achieving such aims comes at others’ expense.

When preserving profits matters more than preventing known environmental harm. When political popularity matters more than the effectiveness of the decisions being made. When defending a particular ideology requires ignoring scientific evidence. When preserving social order becomes an excuse for every flaw in that order.

And especially when people with power and the knowledge they need consciously choose to ignore the consequences of their own decisions.

This is what we intend to fight.

We are completely indifferent to whether a person considers themselves kind, moral, enlightened, or virtuous. What interests us is what they do, why they do it, and what consequences their actions produce.

Good intentions do not undo the harm caused.

Pleasant words do not replace real change.

And promises repeated for decades without corresponding action eventually cease to interest us at all.

Many of those who uphold harmful social arrangements are not monsters at all. They may love their children, help their friends, care for pets, and sincerely believe themselves to be decent people.

Perhaps they are.

But if their actions help perpetuate injustice and exploitation, destroy the environment, or spread dangerous misconceptions, that deserves criticism regardless of their personal virtues.

We do not intend to replace an investigation into the actual causes of human suffering with endless debates about how good or bad particular people are.

But neither will we absolve anyone of responsibility simply because they act in accordance with prevailing customs.

History is full of people who committed appalling acts without ever doubting that they were in the right.

A clear conscience, by itself, is hardly compelling evidence of its owner’s moral integrity.

And yet, is exposing such contradictions enough to change things?

Of course not.

One can write a thousand treatises on economic inefficiency, environmental destruction, and the failings of political institutions. One can hold endless discussions, publish research, and convince a substantial portion of the population that change is necessary.

But until those convictions are translated into organized action, their impact remains limited.

That is precisely why we are not content with the role of observers.

We do not need another group of people who spend their lives understanding the causes of what is happening perfectly well, but are unable or unwilling to do anything about it.

We do not need an organization that exists solely to preserve its own traditions.

And we certainly do not need a Sect whose members believe that belonging to it is sufficient grounds for considering themselves superior, despite having done nothing truly remarkable.

We want more.

We want to create knowledge, spread it, use it to assess social institutions and develop new solutions. We want to take part in political and public life, challenge ineffective arrangements, expose false claims, and bring about changes whose effects can be seen not only in our own conversations.

We want technology to free people from necessary labor, rather than turn scientific achievements into yet another source of social insecurity.

We want economic activity to be judged not only by the quantity of goods produced and profits earned, but also by how effectively it meets genuine needs.

We want education to cultivate the ability to think independently, not merely reproduce approved answers.

We want politics to use scientific knowledge as a basis for decision-making, not as decoration for a position chosen in advance.

We want society to take seriously the well-being of other rational and sentient beings, rather than limiting its moral concern to members of the human species.

We want the preservation of natural ecosystems to stop being seen as a secondary concern that can be remembered after all other interests have been satisfied.

And we want human life to become less dependent on systems that exist mainly because no one dares to reconsider them.

We know these goals sound ambitious.

Excellent.

We see no particular virtue in limiting our aspirations to what can be achieved without significant effort.

Of course, there is a vast distance between wanting to change the World and actually being able to do so. It cannot be crossed by enthusiasm alone, by attractive symbolism, or by sufficiently loud declarations of one’s own exceptional nature.

It takes work.

Sometimes it is dull, prolonged, and completely invisible to outsiders.

We must study existing problems, gather information, verify claims, develop proposals, find allies, create our own projects, and take part in the work of existing organizations. We must learn to manage resources, assign responsibilities, and ensure that decisions are carried out.

We must also learn to distinguish genuinely useful actions from those that merely give us a pleasant sense of our own importance.

This is especially important.

Modern society offers countless ways to feel as though one is taking part in historic events while having virtually no influence over how they unfold.

One can share political statements endlessly, express outrage, change the symbols on one’s pages, and tell others how committed one is to the right principles.

Sometimes such actions really do matter.

But we are not inclined to confuse expressing a position with achieving the goal we set ourselves.

If our task is to change a particular law, we care not only about how many people have expressed outrage, but also about the likelihood that the law itself will change.

If we want to reduce environmental harm, we care not only about how widely the relevant slogans are repeated, but also about actual changes in production, consumption, and infrastructure.

If we oppose social misconceptions, we care not only about how many exposés have been published, but also about whether people can subsequently recognize such errors for themselves.

We want results.

And that is precisely why we consider it essential to unite knowledge, will, and organization.

A person alone can accomplish a great deal, but even the most exceptional people have limited abilities. No one can possess all the necessary knowledge, carry out an infinite number of tasks, and influence every social process at once.

But many people acting in concert represent an entirely different kind of force.

And here again, the importance of the Sect becomes clear.

Our association did not arise from a sudden revelation or from the intervention of some higher power. It developed gradually over many years, gaining and losing members, changing its own views, and working out an internal order.

Most people who came into contact with us never became part of the Inner Circle.

Some simply disappeared. Others stayed in touch with the community without seeking a deeper affiliation. A few gradually found themselves among those to whom we entrust our most important matters.

And it was these few who formed the foundation of an organization whose existence does not depend on a constant influx of new members.

From the outside, this may look rather strange.

Why does such a small association attach so much importance to its own existence? Why are its members so demanding of themselves and others? Why do they consider it necessary to create their own system of symbols, concepts, hierarchy, and traditions?

Surely, to participate in public life, it is enough simply to create yet another political group?

Perhaps for some people, that really is enough.

But we aspire to create not just an organization, but a distinctive culture of thought and action capable of enduring regardless of accidental circumstances.

A political movement can fall apart after an unsuccessful election. A public campaign can end once its immediate goal has been achieved. An individual project can cease to exist when its participants lose interest.

But principles passed from person to person can outlive the particular circumstances in which they arose.

We want the Sect to have that kind of resilience.

We want its members to be able to recognize one another even when they find themselves in completely different circumstances.

We want the knowledge, experience, and connections we have accumulated to endure beyond the completion of individual projects.

We want each new initiate to start not from scratch, but to inherit the work of those who came before and have the opportunity to carry it forward.

And we want no generation of our members to have reason to think that history ends once and for all with them.

In this sense, Transformation must be continuous.

We do not expect a moment to arrive after which all social contradictions disappear, humanity attains final perfection, and further history becomes unnecessary.

Such ideas seem not only naïve to us, but a little dull as well.

Even if we manage to solve the most serious problems facing modern society, new ones will arise. New technologies will create new opportunities and risks. Changing living conditions will give rise to different needs. Social institutions that seem progressive today may one day become obsolete.

Therefore, the pursuit of Transformation must not end with the achievement of a single social model.

We need a civilization capable of changing itself.

A civilization that does not declare its own institutions eternal, turn political doctrines into untouchable dogmas, or regard correcting past mistakes as a humiliation.

A civilization in which preserving the existing order requires no less justification than proposing to change it.

A civilization in which power serves the achievement of social goals, rather than its own perpetuation.

A civilization in which scientific inquiry is not confined to creating ever more sophisticated tools for carrying out the same outdated tasks, but helps us reconsider the tasks themselves.

Perhaps this program will seem revolutionary to some.

We will not argue.

If revolution means a fundamental change in social relations and in the ways human life is organized, then our aspirations deserve the name.

We simply do not believe the depth of transformation is measured by the number of buildings destroyed, the amount of blood shed, or the number of enemies eliminated. History already has more than enough of those experiments.

Our task is not to replace one set of masters with another and call it liberation.

It is not to destroy social institutions merely for the pleasure of watching them fall.

And it is not to establish a new system of untouchable dogmas, differing from the previous one only in the names of its own prophets.

We want to change the way humanity makes use of its own potential.

To do so, we will have to enter into conflicts.

There are people and organizations that benefit from preserving the present order. They have resources, influence, connections, and means of spreading their own views. Some can obstruct change for years, even when they fully understand that it is necessary.

We do not expect them to voluntarily give up their advantages simply because our arguments prove persuasive.

Therefore, we will have to do more than persuade: we will have to organize, create alternatives, win public support, and use the political and legal means available to change existing power relations.

Not every problem can be solved through conversation.

But any serious solution requires understanding what problem we are actually trying to solve.

That is precisely why we need more than people who are merely dissatisfied, merely outraged, or merely enjoy imagining themselves as revolutionaries.

We need capable people.

People capable of thinking independently, working together, admitting mistakes, remaining consistent, and carrying on when their initial enthusiasm has long since faded.

People who do not need endless convincing that the World could be different.

People who are not satisfied with grand declarations when nothing follows from them.

People prepared to apply to their own actions the same standards they demand of others.

We know there are not many of them.

But it has never taken very many to get started.

Every major social change once existed only as an idea shared by a limited number of people. What seems natural and obvious today may once have been seen as unthinkable, dangerous, or simply absurd.

Of course, most unusual ideas do not turn out to be right. But history does not require new ideas to be wrong simply because their supporters are still in the minority.

That is why the small size of our Inner Circle does not particularly concern us.

We do not measure an organization’s worth solely by the number of its members.

A Sect in which a few people are genuinely capable of jointly developing and carrying out complex plans may be far more valuable to us than a huge association that exists mostly on paper.

However, we understand perfectly well that initiates alone are not enough.

We need people who spread our ideas, take part in discussions, develop their own projects, help investigate reality, and contribute to the common cause.

Not all of them need to become part of the Inner Circle.

Not everyone needs to seek Initiation at all.

What matters to us is not only a person’s standing within the Sect, but also what becomes possible through their actions.

That is precisely why the Outer Circle exists.

For some, it is a place to become acquainted with our ideas. For others, it is a community of like-minded people. For still others, it is an opportunity to take part in public work, research, discussion, and joint initiatives.

For some, in time, it becomes something more.

We do not consider it necessary to determine in advance the future of everyone who chooses to join us.

After all, none of the current initiates was born with the corresponding title.

But there is one thing we can offer everyone.

The opportunity to stop being merely an observer.

If the reader has made it to this treatise, they probably already have some idea of our community. Perhaps they disagree with a great many things we have said. Perhaps some of them seem excessive, strange, or even repellent.

Excellent.

We do not need unanimous approval of every proposition we have ever written.

But if, beneath all these disagreements, someone finds something close to their own aspirations, they should give it some thought.

Perhaps the endless hypocrisy of social institutions irritates them too.

Perhaps they are tired of watching people with the necessary knowledge and means discuss for years problems they are perfectly capable of solving.

Perhaps they are dissatisfied with a society where technological achievements coexist with primitive prejudices, and political decisions are far too often dictated by short-term gain.

Perhaps they have simply been looking for people with whom they can freely discuss all kinds of questions, without fearing that every unusual conclusion will immediately be declared unacceptable.

Any of these is a good enough reason to get to know us better.

But going further will require more.

We do not promise that joining the Sect will automatically make anyone smarter, freer, or happier.

We do not promise them recognition, a high position, or access to the Inner Circle.

We do not even promise that they will necessarily find answers here to every question that interests them.

What we do offer is the chance to search for them alongside people for whom this pursuit ceased long ago to be a passing interest.

And, more importantly, we offer the chance to try to use the answers we find to bring about real change.

How far we manage to go will depend in part on those who choose to take part.

But we intend to carry on.

Without any particular hope that everyone around us will one day acknowledge that we were right.

Without expecting miraculous intervention from forces that will free humanity from the need to solve its own problems.

And without any intention of reconciling ourselves to the status quo simply because changing it takes too much effort.

Nearly ten years of existence have taught us one very useful lesson: people come and go, interests change, projects end, and many plans are never carried out.

But the Sect continues to exist.

And the work continues with it.

We have come far enough to understand how difficult even relatively modest goals can be to achieve. We do not consider ourselves omnipotent, and we have no means of transforming human civilization with a single decree.

Then again, nobody does.

But we do possess something without which no deliberate transformation is possible at all.

We can imagine a different order of things.

We can investigate how feasible it is.

And we can unite our efforts to achieve it.

That is our purpose.

Monad and Dyad, unity and difference, the individual and the collective, knowledge and action — all of these come together again in one continuous process.

From the existing World arise ideas about it.

Among these ideas, Errors are discovered.

Overcoming Errors makes Awakening possible.

The awakened can unite through Initiation.

And the united set about transforming the World itself.

But a transformed World inevitably gives rise to new circumstances, new ideas, and new errors.

Therefore, the whole process begins again.

Perhaps it has no final conclusion.

Perhaps each generation of our successors will discover new tasks that the Sect’s earlier members could not even have imagined.

We are entirely satisfied with that prospect.

After all, if the Universe truly has infinite depth, and human knowledge has no final stage, it would be strange to expect the history of our own transformation to end one day with a final victory over every imperfection.

We do not need the last day of history.

We need the next one.

And if the reader is still here, a very simple choice remains.

They can close this page and get on with their own affairs. Perhaps tomorrow they will not remember a single one of our treatises. Their life will go on, and the World around them will probably undergo no noticeable change as a result.

They can remain an observer, follow our work, and agree or disagree with us from time to time.

Or they can take the next step.

Get to know the Sect. Join the Outer Circle. Take part in discussions; offer your own knowledge, abilities, and ideas. Find out whether our ideas really deserve the attention we give them.

And perhaps one day find themselves among those who do not merely observe what is happening, but shape what happens next.

We do not know in advance who this person will be.

Perhaps they will not be of particular interest to us.

Perhaps we will not interest them.

Or perhaps they are precisely the person we have been missing all this time.

In any case, further discussion seems unnecessary.

We have spoken about the World long enough.

It is time to get to work on it.