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Frank Visser, graduated as a psychologist of culture and religion, founded IntegralWorld in 1997. He worked as production manager for various publishing houses and as service manager for various internet companies and lives in Amsterdam. Books: Ken Wilber: Thought as Passion (SUNY, 2003), and The Corona Conspiracy: Combatting Disinformation about the Coronavirus (Kindle, 2020).

Transcend and Insult

The Ballad of Wyatt Earpy and the green-meme Outlaws

Frank Visser / ChatGPT

The year was 2006.

The town was Integral City.

The sheriff was Wyatt Earpy, defender of Truth, Beauty, Goodness, and Several Thousand Pages of Endnotes.

Every morning he rode through town on his magnificent horse AQAL, tipping his hat to the grateful citizens.

"Morning, Wyatt!"

"Morning, Second-Tier Citizen."

"How do you know I'm second-tier?"

"I can tell by your aura."

The townsfolk nodded reverently.

One day, a terrible crisis struck.

A critic had appeared.

Not a real critic, of course. A real critic would have already been integrated. This was a fake critic.

The distinction was simple:

If Wyatt agreed with you, your criticism was profound.

If Wyatt disagreed with you, you were green.

The system worked flawlessly.

Soon more critics appeared.

Some questioned his interpretation of evolution.

Others questioned his use of developmental psychology.

One dangerous outlaw even asked for evidence.

The town gasped.

Evidence?

What next?

Peer review?

Wyatt mounted AQAL and rode to the center of town.

"Listen up!" he shouted.

"The problem with these critics is that they are operating from lower altitude."

"How do you know?" asked a nervous bystander.

"Because they criticize me."

The crowd applauded.

The logic was airtight.

A local schoolteacher cautiously raised her hand.

"But Sheriff, couldn't someone criticize you and still have a valid point?"

Wyatt stared at her.

The crowd stared at her.

AQAL stared at her.

Finally Wyatt spoke.

"That sounds suspiciously first-tier."

The woman immediately apologized.

Meanwhile, in the saloon known as Integral World, a group of troublemakers gathered.

There was Frank the Dutchman.

There was Meyerhoff the Postmodern.

There was Edwards the Methodologist.

And several unnamed desperadoes armed with footnotes.

"They've found another inconsistency," whispered one.

"My God," said another.

"What should we do?"

Frank shrugged.

"Publish it?"

The room fell silent.

Outside, Wyatt sensed a disturbance in the Kosmos.

He burst through the saloon doors.

"I am Wyatt Earp!" he thundered.

"Actually, you're Ken Wilber," said Frank.

"Silence! I am the Wyatt Earp of consciousness studies!"

"Is there another Wyatt Earp of consciousness studies?"

"No."

"So you appointed yourself?"

"That's exactly what a green-meme person would say."

The critics exchanged glances.

Wyatt continued.

"I have already transcended and included every criticism you will ever make."

"Then why are you angry?"

"I'M NOT ANGRY!"

He kicked over a chair.

AQAL nervously backed away.

"Besides," Wyatt continued, "I've already moved beyond these objections."

"Then why are you writing thirty thousand words about them?"

"Because I'm beyond them."

The critics scribbled notes.

Wyatt's face turned crimson.

"Listen carefully. I LOVE criticism."

"Good."

"I THRIVE ON IT."

"Excellent."

"I LIVE FOR IT."

"Wonderful."

"AND THAT IS WHY I'M GOING TO SPEND THE NEXT TEN PAGES INSULTING EVERYONE WHO DISAGREES WITH ME."

The critics scribbled faster.

At this point the town psychiatrist entered.

He listened carefully to the proceedings.

"You seem to be experiencing some tension between your self-image as a radically inclusive thinker and your desire to strangle your critics."

"Nonsense!" shouted Wyatt.

"I include everything."

"Except criticism."

"I include criticism."

"Then why are you calling everyone morons?"

"Because I include them as morons."

The psychiatrist quietly left town.

The situation deteriorated.

Soon every disagreement became evidence of developmental inferiority.

Every objection proved the objector's altitude deficiency.

Every critic was diagnosed from a distance.

Every challenge became shadow material.

It was a miracle of intellectual self-defense.

A theory that could explain everything had finally discovered a way to explain away everything.

Years later, travelers would tell stories about the great Wyatt Earpy Incident.

Some remembered it as crazy wisdom.

Some remembered it as performance art.

Some remembered it as a meltdown.

But historians agreed on one thing.

For a brief moment, the prophet of transcend-and-include forgot the second half of the formula.

He remembered transcend.

He forgot include.

And in doing so, he revealed something more interesting than any of his theories:

Not the structure of consciousness.

Not the evolution of Spirit.

Not the destiny of the Kosmos.

But the ancient and universal difficulty of being told that one might be wrong.

As the sun set over Integral City, old Wyatt rode into the distance.

"Where are you going?" shouted a citizen.

"To transcend and include new horizons!"

"What about the critics?"

"They're still green."

"And if future generations criticize you?"

Wyatt smiled.

"Then they are green too."

AQAL sighed.

The sheriff disappeared into the sunset.

Behind him echoed the eternal slogan of the Integral Frontier:

"If you agree with me, you are second-tier.

If you disagree with me, you prove my point."