The Apex. Organisational Management tower.
We should feel something: awe, or something. But we don’t. The mysterium tremendum, or something. Awe at the sublime. We should feel dwarfed. Feeling humbled. But we just feel resentful.
Organisational Management has interstellar ambitions. It’s impressive, in its way.
They’re trying to contact alien civilisations. They want more civilisations to organise and manage. Or maybe to share Organisational Management secrets with other Organisational Management civilizations.
Are there other Organisational Management civilizations?
Once you get to a certain level of technology, it’s inevitable. Every civilization becomes a world civilization. With some attempt at global governance. You know how it is.
When did Organisational Management begin? Who first thought of it? Who brought the two together: organisation and management? You’d have thought organisation would be sufficient without management. Or management, without organisation. But taken together?
And Organisational Management isn’t even an oxymoron, supposedly. Organisational Management actually means more than Organisational Organisation or Managerial Management …
What were the conditions of possibility of Organisational Management? How did it reach take-off? What allowed it? Some civilizational turn? Some step-change in technology? In techno-science?
Was it inevitable, following the Industrial Revolution? The invention of the spinning Jenny, or whatever? Were its conditions set further back? Was Newton the key? Galileo? Earlier still? Was it Pythagoras?
Might we have ended up differently? Who could we have been? Was it always inevitable? Were we always essentially an Organisational Management people?
The last philosophers. The last gasp of philosophy. In the Anglo world, at least. We’re the last ones, or might as well be. And the last gasp of the humanities, too. Before it all came to seem insufficiently organised and imperfectly managed.
Work in Progress 