Beauty and Control

The Garden of Eden was a beautiful paradise. It was abundant in fruits and peaceful creatures and was perfectly manicured. But when lost to evil forces, it grew long weeds and was consumed by nature. As a result, Quakerism holds nature as a place of evil and a home to devils. Nature is something to be conquered and controlled. By uprooting forests and cultivating gardens that conform to human visions, we create beauty. From a Quaker’s perspective, beauty lies in refined control. The uncontrolled is wicked and seen as hideous. Nathaniel Hawthorne, in his tale of “Young Goodman Brown”, exemplifies this belief. A “good” young man ventures into the forest one night and meets the Devil. He loses his innocence and enters a place deemed unholy by his community. The beauty of his innocence is lost upon exploring nature.

The interesting quirk of Hawthorne’s story is that young Brown is not the only member of his community in the woods. Dozens of familiar faces are participating in sinful activities, running amok in the uncontrolled wilderness. Young Brown comes to realize that the people who seemed so refined in town actually indulged in their wild side. The beauty he once knew became tarnished. But perhaps a new beauty arose?

Henry David Thoreau, in his famous Walden, describes the wilderness as a place of remarkable beauty. To Thoreau, the forests were a place of God, not the Devil. Transcendentalism holds nature in high-regard, as a beautiful and wild place. Although it is uncontrolled, it is gorgeous. The lack of human intervention–the lack of control–perhaps made it so.

Apart from spirituality, Quakerism and Transcendentalism represent distinct arguments between beauty and control. For Quakers, beauty results from control. For Transcendentalists, beauty arises in the absence of control. Which side defines the relationship today? While Transcendentalism is a more contemporary belief–as demonstrated through conservation policies, the National Park system, and /r/EarthPorn–there are numerous components of modern life that contradict this idea.

So, what is beautiful?

Natural beauty–lakes and mountains and forests–are often icons of wondrous allure that we claim to appreciate. But does that not contradict our affinity for synthetic beauty? We wear makeup daily, go on diets to cultivate an ideal body, and awe over accomplishments in human invention–skyscrapers, artificial intelligence, and sports cars. We admire the intricacies of watchmaking–the controlled and precise machines are beautiful. Our autonomy over our environment is something we hold in high regard, but the wonders of nature can leave us breathless. When searching for “beauty” in Google Images, we see dozens of white women wearing makeup and colorful natural scenes.

This dichotomy is interesting. We have contradictory views of beauty and control, and there is no consensus. We cannot control the Sun but it is a life-giving beauty. Our natural skin tones, hair textures, and personalities are what make us most beautiful. But there is a beauty in what we create–from the aesthetics of a smart phone to a symphony orchestra. Beauty and control are a two-way street.

We admire that which we cannot control and marvel at those we can.