📘 Why We Are Here: The Ultimate Answer for Individuals, Civilizations, and the Future

Chapter 7: Civilization as a Causal System

If the discussions in Part I gradually clarified what individual consciousness is, then from this chapter onward we must shift our view toward something far more vast: civilization—the immense structure we live within, yet rarely truly perceive.

Many people intuitively understand civilization as “a collection of people living together.” As if civilization were merely the sum of countless individuals, only larger in scale. But once you examine it structurally, you will discover that the difference between civilization and individuals is like that between the ocean and its waves. You can study a single wave—describe its shape, speed, and motion—but the ocean is not a magnified wave. It is a fundamentally different kind of existence.

Civilization is indeed composed of individuals, so the connection between them is undeniable. Yet the scale, operating mode, and driving forces of civilization vastly exceed any individual. Each of us lives inside civilization, but none of us can “control” it—just as a wave cannot determine the direction of the ocean. Civilization persists precisely because it does not depend on any single consciousness. It has no center, no master, no unified will. It is a decentralized existence, woven from innumerable causal chains, operating through trends rather than intentions.

This may sound abstract, so let us reframe the question: what is a “causal system”?

Earlier, when discussing consciousness, we described it as a “continuous computation within an internal topological structure.” Civilization, by contrast, is another kind of structure—one that does not occur in the brain, but in society itself. Language, institutions, tools, technology, culture, law, economic behavior—countless interacting causal chains intertwine to form an immense network. This network amplifies itself, develops inertia, and generates trends. It does not center on any single consciousness, but continues across generations.

The computation of consciousness relies on neural networks. The computation of civilization relies on external structures—meanings embedded in language, designs embedded in technology, urban layouts, institutional rules, historical records, data on networks. Individuals can forget; civilization cannot, because its memory is stored outside consciousness.

This point is crucial: it is precisely because civilization externalizes information that it can operate as an independent causal system. A civilization without writing must rely on oral transmission; one with writing allows knowledge to cross centuries; one with advanced technology can extend causal structures beyond geography and time itself. In other words:

As long as a civilization’s external memory structures remain functional, it can continue to operate without depending on any particular life.

In this sense, civilization is fundamentally different from biological organisms. Biological life is a continuum—once the carrier dies, life ends. Civilization, however, is not as sensitive to continuity. It can fracture, migrate, and be rebuilt, while its “patterns” can traverse countless generations. Civilization is less a living organism than a mechanism for inheriting causal patterns—a structure rather than a life form.

Viewed this way, the notion of a “will of civilization” naturally dissolves. Civilization does not intend to do anything, nor does it aspire to become something. Its trajectory is the resultant force of countless causal chains, not the outcome of any plan devised by a group or leader. You may see certain individuals “driving history,” but more often they are being driven by their era. You may see certain technologies “change the world,” but those technologies are usually inevitable products of civilization’s own internal momentum. From this perspective:

The direction of civilization is the direction of its causal chains, not the wishes of individuals.

For example, even without a particular scientist, technological progress would continue; without a particular politician, institutional change would still occur; without a particular entrepreneur, consumption patterns would still evolve. We often explain history through a “great person” narrative because it is convenient, but it is not the structural truth. Civilization is like a river rushing toward the sea: every whirlpool in the current has its own form, but none can decide where the river ultimately flows.

Once we see civilization as a causal system, many long-blurred concepts suddenly become clear:

Why can civilization “transcend” individuals?
Why do civilizational trends often defy human intentions?
Why does civilization continue to evolve even without deliberate guidance?
Why is genuine mutual understanding between civilizations so difficult? (explored in the next chapter)

We also come to grasp a more important fact: the subject of civilization is not people, but the causal network itself.

Each of us is merely a node within civilization, like neurons within consciousness—necessary, but not central. The true power of civilization does not come from any individual’s will, but from the massive inertia generated by externalized memory and intergenerational causal chains.

From this chapter onward, we formally enter the structural level of civilization. In the next chapter, you will see how this very structure makes direct communication between civilizations almost impossible, and why it ultimately leads to the inevitability of TCS (Third-party Causal Systems).

We have understood the structure of individual consciousness. Now, at last, we begin to see clearly: civilization, too, is a structure—vast, impersonal, and far beyond the imagination of any single person.