Hymns to the Hydraulic
Music and meditations about the small wonders of the ancient, modern, and future world.
There’s an Old English word, spelled hyðelic, maybe pronounced “hew thel itch.” It’s mainly found in antique Latin-English dictionaries, but a couple of actual usages have survived long enough to be copied and scanned.
The Ruin (written between 700 and 1000 CE)
excerpt:Stanhofu stodan, stream hate wearp
widan wylme; weal eall befeng
beorhtan bosme, þær þa baþu wæron,
hat on hreþre. þæt wæs hyðelic.The stone buildings stood, a stream threw up heat
in wide surge; the wall enclosed all
in its bright bosom, where the baths were,
hot in the heart. That was hyðelic.
The Ruin is usually interpreted as an elegy for the decaying city of Bath, which was full of infrastructure built by the Roman Empire, slowly falling apart now that nobody knew how to maintain it. As the name memorializes, the main thing that the ancient natives of Somerset found awesome about Bath was the bathhouses. Indoor plumbing, with hot water. That was hyðelic. It boggles my mind that Somerset spent over a thousand years mourning the loss before hyðelic times returned.
A different form of the word appears in a Christian prayer book, the Eadwine Psalter.
Hymn 31 (written before 1155–60 CE)
Excerpt:eælle hælige to þe on tide gehyðelicre ðeah hweþre
Soðlice þonne flode wetra monigræ to him na togeneælecæþAll holy people will pray to God in hyðelic times,
But in times of great floods, many will turn away from him.
The Latin dictionaries translate hyðelic to oportuno, opportune. The most popular translation into English is “convenient,” but some prefer “appropriate.”
Based on nothing but these two usages, I’d like to throw “hydraulic” into the mix. Plenty of Old English words are believed to be derived from Latin, often with consonant shifts. We do know that if you’d asked an ancient Roman civil engineer how the baths worked, you might get the unhelpful answer hydraulicus. That word might for some reason get corrupted into an Old English loanword as hyðelic, which then might come to be used exclusively metaphorically after its literal referent disappeared. Meaning “convenient,” but retaining an older connotation that gets lost in translation.
Also, in Old English, we think “tide” exclusively meant time. The modern meaning didn’t come in until Middle English, as far as we know. But maybe we’re just not recognizing it in the hymn’s phrase tide gehyðelicre. “In hydraulic tides, the holy are brought to God, but in chaotic floods, they are pushed away.”
We can pretty reliably conclude, at any rate, that hyðelic times are when the water is in the right place.
The Inverse Prosperity Gospel
Those lines in the hymn, about people praying more when times are hyðelic, seem like an anomaly to me. In the English-speaking, Christian cultures I’m familiar with, people are more likely to say either “if you pray, God will make your life more hyðelic” or “the hyðelic is a distraction, a corruption.”
As a curious tween at a (secular) summer camp, I once signed up for a short Bible Study session for one of my optional activity slots. I spent most of it arguing with the teacher. Hm. Looking back on it now, my Jewish and Quaker upbringing may have mislead me as to the standard norms around Bible Study. Anyway, the lesson the teacher was going for went something like “Look at this pious letter that St. Paul wrote while in prison! It shows that even in the most desperate circumstances, we can still grow closer to God. Therefore, material pursuits are folly. Even if we were all miserable prisoners, we could still go to Heaven, which is more important.”
My position was something like “But wait, you just said ‘even in the most desperate circumstances.’ Doesn’t that imply that you believe that prison makes it harder to grow closer to God? St. Paul only proves it’s not impossible, not that your circumstances are completely irrelevant. And if prison makes it harder to find God, shouldn’t the material pursuit of getting people out of prison be a priority?”
(I forget which letter, from which stint in prison. St. Paul went to prison several times, but no matter where he went he was able to invoke his rights as a Roman citizen. That was hyðelic.)
There must be plenty of Christian sects that take my side here. If you’re into doing good works anyway, as so many of them are, surely this kind of reasoning would appeal. I’m having trouble finding them, though. Part of the distance is that Christian doctrine is often not consequentialist, in a way I find it difficult to reason about. You’re supposed to help other people, even if it doesn’t actually benefit them in the long run.
It’s much easier to find discussion of this question in Judaism. In Pirkei Avot 2:2, for example,
Rabban Gamaliel the son of Rabbi Judah Hanasi said: excellent is the study of the Torah when combined with a worldly occupation, for toil in them both keeps sin out of one’s mind; But study of the Torah which is not combined with a worldly occupation, in the end comes to be neglected and becomes the cause of sin. And all who labor with the community, should labor with them for the sake of Heaven, for the merit of their forefathers sustains them (the community), and their (the forefather’s) righteousness endures for ever; And as for you, God in such case says I credit you with a rich reward, as if you yourselves had actually accomplished it all.
"If there is no flour, there is no Torah." The matter is like its simple understanding - when he neglects work, it brings him to poverty and it drags along several sins and its evil is great. As on account of it, he will 'love gifts and not live,' and flatter people even if they are evildoers, in order that they give to him. Also when the money from the gifts runs out, he will become a thief or a kidnapper (or gambler) and will bring 'home loot taken from the poor' so that he not die of hunger.
…
Therefore it is necessary for a sage to know a craft, as it is stated (Ecclesiastes 7:11), "Good is wisdom with an inheritance."
My mostly superfluous meta-meta-commentary is that if you work hard for your community and create generational wealth, future generations will be more comfortable and less likely to sin, and their virtue will be credited to your account too. Also, pace Scott Alexander, the fact that Ecclesiastes 7:11 says that convenience is good is clearly the true numerological meaning of the convenience store chain 7-Eleven.
I have the impression that “poverty can draw people away from God” is a recurring motif in the griot songs of West Africa. It makes sense as a blending of the “praise of a wealthy patron” genre of griot song and the “more people should study the Quran” genre. More than that, it seems like a standard background assumption. Wealth, earthly knowledge, studying the Quran…they all go together.
Timbuktu was once the richest place in the world, in all three of those ways. There are elegies for its fallen glory, but they’re a little different from the one for Bath. Here’s a modern one:
And a translation:
I came to tell the Malian people, and the entire world, that the holy city of Timbuktu is a city of science and knowledge
Malians, where is our historical greatness ? Where is our reputation as a country of peace, knowledge, togetherness and cordiality?Timbuktu, crossroad of knowledge, where stood the greatest university in the world, the ancient mosque of Djingareyber…
Timbuktu, city of the 333 saints, legendary city known all over the worldPoets, writers and even the griots from Mali wonder, “Where are the values our ancestors gave us?”
They will all disappear if we don’t pay attentionMalian people, let’s wake up from this deep sleep
Do not forget how great we were
And be sure that we still can be!
I can’t help but notice that the elegy for Bath is missing that call to action at the end.
American Industry
With all due respect to the people of 9th-century Somerset, here in America we always have a call to action. There’s an uneasy tension in our creed, though: we believe both that it’s virtuous to get rich and leave your children a nice inheritance, and that getting a nice inheritance rots your soul. John Adams, awed by the wealth and beauty of Paris in 1780, was already trying to grapple with this paradox when he wrote, in a letter to his wife:
I wish I had time to describe these objects to you in a manner, that I should have done, 25 Years ago, but my Head is too full of Schemes and my Heart of Anxiety to use Expressions borrowed from you know whom.
To take a walk in the Gardens of the Palace of the Tuileries, and describe the statues there, all in marble, in which the ancient divinities and heroes are represented with exquisite art, would be a very pleasant amusement, and instructive entertainment, improving in history, mythology, poetry, as well as in statuary. Another walk in the Gardens of Versailles would be useful and agreeable. But to observe these objects with taste and describe them so as to be understood, would require more time and thought than I can possibly spare. It is not indeed the fine arts, which our country requires. The useful, the mechanic arts, are those which we have occasion for in a young country, as yet simple and not far advanced in luxury, although perhaps much too far for her age and character.
I could fill volumes with descriptions of temples and palaces, paintings, sculptures, tapestry, porcelain, &c. &c. &c. -- if I could have time. But I could not do this without neglecting my duty. The science of government it is my duty to study, more than all other
sciences: the art of legislation and administration and negotiation, ought to take place, indeed to exclude in a manner all other arts. I must study politics and war that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history, naval architecture, navigation, commerce and agriculture, in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry and porcelain.
Adams, scheming to make Boston as rich as Paris, was scared his children would be drawn in by “the siren song of sloth” if he succeeded. In the end, it was a matter of hope and faith. Leave his descendants a better world, and trust that they’d use their inheritance wisely.
Adams’s progression, which someone really should set to music, is the secular version of the Inverse Prosperity Gospel. Study of the practical arts competes for time with the study of poetry and porcelain, but it’s not inimical to it. Even full of schemes and anxieties, Adams still had room in his soul to appreciate Paris. He just didn’t have the time. (Well, maybe just one more walk around Versailles…)
His descendants have more time. Thomas Boylston Adams, his great-great-great-grandson, studied politics and war, but he also helped open a skyscraper hotel in Paris. He claimed not to have inherited money from his illustrious family. “My branch of the family is the poor Adamses -- completely broke.” Maybe he didn’t inherit anything directly, but he was born into a world of convenience and opportunity that his ancestors helped build.
Morality is Universal Prosperity
Here’s my take. Maslow’s hierarchy is real. If you don’t have your physiological needs met, if you’re in desperate situations, everything becomes harder. If you value any kind of growth in others, spiritual, emotional, intellectual, or technical, you should value reducing poverty as an instrumental goal. This can include projects to increase the average wealth of the world, or your community, or the next generation. And I agree with Gamaliel—the work you’re already doing is likely to be helpful, on average, so you have a part share in the credit for all future works of art.
On the other end of the scale, being too much richer than the median person in your community is morally questionable. If the people around you are struggling, and you have more money than you need, you’re missing an opportunity to help. Even if your ethical system doesn’t consider that a sin of omission, it still might have a corrosive effect on your empathy. There are a few studies suggesting this, although I don’t think anything definitive.
So I agree with Jesus’s famous declaration that it’s hard to get into heaven if you’re rich, with a certain interpretation. It’s not that being rich is inherently sinful or corrupting. It’s allowing others around you to be poor. The context for that line about a camel through the eye of a needle is that he’s just told a rich person to give his money to the poor, and the rich person was reluctant. But Jesus is assuming, as he says in Mark 14:7, that there will always be opportunities to lift people out of poverty. Once everyone around you has plenty, there’s nothing wrong with you having plenty too.
What I don’t at all buy is the idea that our wealth, in the developed world, comes from exploiting the global poor. The global economy is far from being zero-sum. Sure, any given dollar we have here could go further in Senegal. But we don’t benefit, on net, from Senegalese poverty, and they don’t suffer, on net, from our prosperity. Severe global inequality is a missed opportunity to do good, not in general an exploitation.
In walled-off corporate campuses in Mysore and Bangalore, I saw large, well-kept lawns, and outdoor swimming pools. Literally steps outside, people were washing their hands in puddles in the street. This is an abomination. But outdoor swimming pools in America are not, because we can’t efficiently ship water to India at the scale necessary to be helpful.
To the extent that we can help efficiently, I believe we should. For the past ten years, whenever I’ve had a salary, I’ve donated 10% of it to charities working in the developing world, and I encourage my first-world readers to do the same. Money is more fluid than water, these days, and there are people far away who need it more. Personally, I’m a gross materialist. I’d take it as a win if more people were happy and healthy, as a terminal goal. But it’s a valid instrumental one too.
Convenience
Last year, Rolling Stone rated Youssou N’Dour among the hundred greatest musicians of all time. A self-described “modern griot” from Senegal, N'Dour has innovated for decades, developing styles that fuse many different traditions, some African, some not. In a 2004 interview for The Guardian, he shared some thoughts about global inequality.
It is hard to accept. When we see the prosperity of the West, we think, "Look at that! They've got everything!" But our elders say, "Why did God create the toubab? To make things a little easier." Because the toubabs bring a lot in terms of infrastructure. They can give a lot. And we believe that in the next world, maybe, the situation will be reversed.
Toubab means foreigner, with the connotation of “white person.” Having richer neighbors can be galling, sometimes dangerous, but overall it makes things just a little bit more convenient. White guilt is a kind of Main Character Syndrome. N’Dour might be jealous, even a bit resentful. But from his perspective, we’re assets and opportunities.
He’s also happy to note that the inequalities go both ways. Africa has cultural riches, compared to the West, he says in the same interview. Riches he believes come from African pluralism.
'We believe there are different ways to get to the same place,' says N'Dour. 'On this album I sing for the leaders of all the different brotherhoods. In Senegal, we believe that our riches lie in diversity.'
I find the idea that his culture is richer than mine a little galling, but it’s hard to disagree. America has decent folk music, but mainly because we bought and kidnapped a bunch of West African musicians. Usually, it’s not so zero-sum. Africa’s cultural riches do not impoverish the toubab.
One thing West African culture has, the thing I most want for mine, is their celebration of the hyðelic. On the same album where she mourns the fall of Timbuktu, Oumou Sangaré celebrates the rise of Wassulu.
Her translation of the lyrics:
Wassulu people, I am so glad: we have reached a dazzling achievement! We were regarded as miserable n’goni players, singers, dancers only interested in partying and enjoying life… Well we, the people of Wassulu, have proved them wrong by turning our dear Wassulu into a shelter for Peace, a developing area, thanks to colossal investments: schools, health centres and hotels. We’ve even managed to lead the way to development for the whole country! Who could do better? Let’s go to Wassulu, where hospitality, sweet life and great events are blossoming in the local daily life. Come with me to Wassulu, where joy is everywhere!
I’m jealous. Not of Wassulu’s prosperity, but of their ability to write and appreciate songs on the theme of “we recently invested in local infrastructure, and the results have been great.” It’d make YIMBYism a whole lot more convenient to proselytize if we had that here. The closest in English I know of to the Wassulu Don music video is this fan video for “Landsailor,” and while I find it really moving I have had zero luck proselytizing with it. The content is similar, but it doesn’t connect to the same traditions. It feels like an ad.
Wassulu’s riches do indeed come from diversity (plus water). It’s a river valley region that intersects three different states. It’s a fusion, a nation that intersects many nations, political, ethnic, and cultural.
Around the time English lost the word hyðelic, it gained the word convenient. Etymologically, it means “things are coming together,” a phrase we also use directly to mean something similar. The word “confluence,” for the literal or metaphorical flowing together of two rivers, followed shortly after. Both seem a little passive as metaphors go, like diversity is something you just luck into.
Convenience, confluence, diversity…they improve your luck. They make you more likely to find what you need just lying around nearby. But they, themselves, are riches we can earn, and have our children inherit. We can build infrastructure, physical and cultural, that helps the riches flow. So maybe it’s time to reinvoke an ancient word that still sounds as modern, and almost as magical, as it did a thousand years ago. Let’s make the world more hydraulic.
Bonus: Landsailor
In almost every time and place, a sailor is someone who does a strange, technical job. Most people don’t understand what they do, and wouldn’t choose that life. There’s an air of romance about them. And they’re sources of magic. They let you communicate across continents. They bring outlandish wonders and delights.
In the modern world, we are all of us sailors. We’re all specialists in something or other, and it all comes together to create magic. That’s a big part of growing up, realizing that. The things you take for granted, as parts of the world, are actually made by those around you. It’s wonderful to feel like your inheritance is free. And then it can be glorious to learn its cost, and realize you can help to pay it forward. That’s the joy I hear in Vienna Teng’s song.
I’m not saying we should be exclusively, toxically positive about everything. But I think we have too little positivity in our current diet. Signs of a positivity deficiency are despair, desire to return to a mythical golden age, and the sense that the easiest way to advocate for something is to harshly condemn its opposite.
Y’all, it really is so much better now than it was, and it really can get even better. Here’s one more Vienna Teng song.
I love "The Ruins". Full of so many evocative phrases: "wyrde gebraecon", "ente geweorc", "burgstede burston". Also find it funny to imagine the Anglo-Saxons wandering around being like "Who could've built this? Must've been giants!" and meanwhile there's some poor undernourished Breton standing right there.