MIR: The Vertical of Consciousness

A Survival and Growth Manual in a Changing World

We are used to explaining how the world works through familiar categories: money, power, connections, education, luck, or innate talent. These explanations work on the surface. But if you look deeper, it becomes clear that they describe symptoms rather than the underlying mechanism.

In reality, the system — society, economy, history — distributes significant resources, influence, and opportunities according to a much stricter and less visible principle. It grants power and leverage not only to those who already possess a high level of consciousness, but also to those who demonstrate strong potential for its growth, or whose actions — even if driven by self-interest — objectively raise the level of consciousness among the many people who depend on them.

We call this key capacity consciousness.

It is important to clearly distinguish between two concepts.

Self-awareness is a quality of attention: the ability to notice one’s thoughts, emotions, motives, and behavioral patterns. It can be highly developed even in a deeply selfish person who uses this insight to pursue their own goals more effectively.

Consciousness, however, is something different. It is conductivity: the actual volume of responsibility, chaos, other people’s fates, and long-term consequences that a person can hold, organize, and carry without losing inner coherence or causing critical damage to the system.

Every person enters this world already unequal. Some begin their journey in conditions defined by the struggle for physical survival. Others start in environments where the main challenges lie in the realm of intellectual, ethical, and systemic tasks of a high order. These different starting points are not an accident or a moral injustice. They are a fundamental feature of the vertical of consciousness.

The system does not require everyone to start from the same mark. It evaluates a person not by where they began, but by how far they have moved relative to their starting position, and by the impact their development has on those around them.

In this article, we will examine the mechanics of this vertical in detail:

• how consciousness grows through the energy of voluntary over-effort,
• how it is transmitted across generations through an “informational snapshot” of the parents,
• why deep gaps in consciousness levels form between people,
• and how the system has historically regulated these gaps — first through harsh methods, and in recent decades through softer, more distributed pressures.

We will speak in a deliberately cold, engineering language — without moral judgment or idealization. Only structure, cause-and-effect relationships, and the workings of the mechanism.

Because a true understanding of the vertical of consciousness is the first necessary step to stop being a passive element within it — and to begin moving along it consciously.

2. The Energy of Over-Effort (Delta E): Why Comfort Undermines Development

Consciousness does not grow in a state of equilibrium. It grows only where equilibrium is deliberately disrupted.

In biology, there is the concept of homeostasis — a living system’s ability to maintain its internal parameters within stable limits. This mode is ideal for survival: enough food, warmth, and safety. But for the development of consciousness, homeostasis turns out to be lethal.

Consciousness requires a difference in potential. It is this difference that forces the system to move and become more complex. In physics, this is called a gradient. In the context of human development, we call it the energy of over-effort, or Delta E.

Delta E is the effort a person makes beyond what is necessary for simple biological survival and comfort. It is not a reaction to hunger or threat, but a voluntary action that goes beyond one’s current zone of convenience.

When a person gets up at 6 a.m. to train although they could sleep longer, when they take responsibility for a project although they could remain in a supporting role, when they continue to learn and develop although “things are already fine” — it is precisely in these moments that Delta E is activated.

This energy is the primary fuel for the growth of consciousness.

Why comfort is dangerous

In conditions of sustained comfort, the brain and psyche quickly adapt to a low level of tension. Tasks that once required willpower begin to be perceived as excessive or even threatening. Willpower is gradually replaced by the search for life hacks and ways to minimize effort. A person may remain intelligent and knowledgeable, but their ability to channel large volumes of responsibility and complexity begins to atrophy.

Historically, we can observe two fundamentally different approaches to Delta E.

Some groups and cultures minimized excess effort over generations, considering it irrational. Survival and reproduction formed the basic cycle. Under this strategy, each subsequent generation starts roughly at the same level as the previous one. Almost no accumulation of complexity occurs.

Other groups consciously invested in complexity. They practiced learning, risk, discipline, and overcoming challenges — not because it was immediately necessary for survival, but because they saw value in the very process of making a human being more complex. A classic example is the nobility in various cultures. Fencing, languages, military service, estate management, and the study of sciences often went far beyond immediate practical benefit. Yet it was precisely these “excessive” practices that accumulated into increased conductivity and were passed on to subsequent generations.

The difference between these strategies eventually turns into a gap. Not because some people are inherently “better” than others, but because one group systematically invested energy in expanding its conductivity while the other did not.

Today we live in a world where comfort has become one of the central cultural values. Delivery in fifteen minutes, climate control, an endless stream of entertainment, and protection from any discomfort — all of this makes life easier, but simultaneously reduces the natural need for Delta E.

A person who from childhood is not trained to do what they “don’t want to, but need to” or what is “not necessary, but interesting to test their limits” gradually loses the muscle of consciousness. They may remain highly self-aware — able to understand themselves and the world — but their actual conductivity will be limited.

Voluntary over-effort remains one of the few reliable ways to expand this channel.

Practical conclusion: If you feel that life has become too comfortable and “everything is fine, but something is missing,” the system is most likely signaling a deficit of Delta E. There is no need to rush into extremes. It is enough to begin regularly doing things that sit just beyond your current comfort zone — not for the sake of heroism, but to maintain and develop your own conductivity.

3. The Genetics of Consciousness: A Generational Snapshot

Consciousness is not transmitted only through upbringing, books, and example. Part of it is passed on much earlier — before the child even takes their first breath.

We tend to believe that children inherit only biological traits from their parents: eye color, predispositions to certain diseases, metabolic features. Everything else — character, willpower, level of responsibility — is supposedly shaped later by environment and upbringing.

This picture is incomplete.

If observed carefully, a consistent pattern emerges: children born to the same parents but at different stages of the father’s (and sometimes the mother’s) life often differ noticeably in their baseline capacity to handle pressure, take responsibility, and act under uncertainty. The difference shows up not so much in intelligence as in the quality of their internal operating system — how easily or difficultly the child deals with challenge and sustained effort.

For example, a father who had his first son at 30 and his second at 35 often notices that the second child is significantly more resilient to difficulties, better at maintaining focus, and more stable in uncertain situations. In those five years, the father went through crises, took on greater responsibility, and pushed his own limits — and passed on the “imprint” of a more developed version of himself. This is not a theoretical speculation — it is an observable reality for those who pay conscious attention to development over time.

This happens because at the moment of conception, a parent transmits to the child not only a biological blueprint, but also an actual informational snapshot of their state at that moment — their current level of consciousness.

Sperm and egg carry more than DNA. They carry epigenetic markers and, apparently, a more subtle informational imprint of the parent’s current version: their degree of habituation to over-effort, their capacity to tolerate uncertainty, and their dominant patterns of choosing between comfort and growth. This is not mysticism. It follows from the fact that a living organism is a complex informational field, and its current state influences the quality of what is transmitted.

The higher the parent’s level of lived, embodied consciousness at the moment of conception, the stronger the “starting package” the child receives.

From this follows an important practical conclusion: parental timing matters — especially the father’s age.

The roughly optimal window is between 35 and 45 years. By this age, a person has typically gone through several serious cycles of challenge, crisis, and responsibility. Their consciousness is no longer theoretical — it has become integrated into character and decision-making. A child conceived during this period tends to receive a more mature, stable, and capacious baseline operating system.

If fatherhood occurs too early (18–25), the parent usually passes on a still-forming version of themselves. Their own conductivity is not yet high, and their experience with sustained effort is limited. The child starts with a lighter operating system.

If fatherhood occurs too late (after 50–55), a different problem may arise: even with a strong informational package, there can be a decline in the culture of active effort. The father may possess deep understanding, but his own Delta E is fading. He can transmit insight, but not always the living habit of regular over-effort. The result is the risk of the “lazy genius” — high potential paired with weak willpower.

The mother’s role in this process is equally critical. In the early years of life, she serves as the primary transmitter of the “civilizational code” — what is considered normal, acceptable, and worth the effort. Her own level of consciousness, her ability to remain calm under pressure, and her relationship with discomfort strongly shape the environment in which the child’s nervous system develops.

Therefore, choosing a partner for starting a family is not only a matter of love or character compatibility. It is a strategic decision about the quality of the “operating system” that future children will receive. The synergy of two sufficiently mature and similarly directed versions of consciousness gives a noticeably stronger start than a pairing where one partner operates in a minimal-effort mode.

A historical example illustrates this clearly. Upon returning from the Grand Embassy, Peter I chose a German wife and later encouraged his descendants to marry European women. This was not done out of exotic preference, but because European societies at the time were several steps ahead in institutional and cognitive development. He was choosing not merely a person — he was choosing a vector. It was a calculated decision based on the synergy of informational systems.

None of this implies rigid determinism. The starting package is important, but it is not a sentence. It merely sets the initial height from which a person must build their own vertical.

4. How the Consciousness Gap Forms

If consciousness grows through the energy of voluntary over-effort and can be transmitted through a generational “informational snapshot,” then a natural question arises: why do such deep and persistent gaps emerge between individuals and entire groups?

The consciousness gap does not appear suddenly. It forms gradually as the result of two simple but powerful factors compounding over multiple generations.

Factor One: Transmission of a “Light” Informational Package

When a person becomes a parent too early (typically between 18 and 25), they are usually still in the process of forming themselves. Their own level of consciousness at that point is relatively low — their experience with real challenge is limited, and the habit of sustained effort has not yet solidified. At the moment of conception, they pass on exactly this current version of themselves — a lighter, less developed conductivity. The child does not start from zero, but from a noticeably more modest baseline.

Factor Two: The Strategy of Minimal Effort

Even a decent starting package can be significantly strengthened during upbringing — if the parents themselves live in a mode of regular over-effort and instill this habit in the child. However, if the family follows a strategy of minimal effort (“do just enough to get by”), then even a good initial code does not receive further development. The child grows up in an environment where Delta E is perceived not as a norm, but as something optional or even undesirable.

When these two factors operate together across several generations, a cumulative effect occurs. Each new generation receives roughly the same — or even slightly lower — level of conductivity as the previous one. Almost no accumulation of complexity takes place. The cycle repeats: early parenthood → limited or average starting package → minimal effort → early parenthood again.

Over time, the difference between groups that systematically invested in Delta E and mature parenthood, and those that did not, ceases to be merely social. It becomes almost structural. People begin to live in different realities: they differ in the volume of responsibility they can carry, in their tolerance for uncertainty, and in their ability to plan years ahead.

It is important to be precise here: this does not mean that some people are inherently “better” than others by nature. It is the result of different long-term strategies regarding energy investment and the timing of passing the baton to the next generation. The system does not act as a moral judge — it acts as a registrar. It simply allocates more resources and trust to those nodes that demonstrate greater conductivity — or at least a clear potential for its growth.

Sometimes the system grants significant resources and power to individuals whose current level of consciousness is not particularly high. Why? Because their actions — even if motivated by self-interest — objectively create conditions that force growth in the consciousness of a large number of people who depend on them. In such cases, egoistic motivation can coexist with a systemically useful effect. The system evaluates not only the current level, but also trajectory and impact.

Thus, the consciousness gap is neither a moral category nor a random accident. It is the logical outcome of thousands of small choices made by individuals and families over decades and centuries. One path leads to the gradual accumulation of conductivity. The other leads to its reproduction at roughly the same level.

5. System Resets: From Hard to Soft

If consciousness accumulates slowly through individual over-effort and mature parenthood, and the gap between groups tends to widen over generations, then a logical question arises: how does the system respond when this gap becomes too large and begins to threaten overall stability?

History shows that when the divide grows critical, the system initiates resets. These resets vary in form, but they share the same core purpose: to reduce dangerous imbalances in conductivity and prevent society from fracturing into incompatible realities.

The 20th century was the era of hard resets — brutal and violent.

The clearest and most large-scale example is the Soviet Union. The system faced an enormous gap between a relatively small layer of high-consciousness individuals (nobility, intelligentsia, officer corps) and the vast majority of the population operating near the level of basic homeostasis. The response was radical: forced mass mobilization of the “lower layers” into complex tasks through extreme discomfort.

Mass literacy campaigns, forced industrialization, collectivization, war, and postwar reconstruction all compelled millions of yesterday’s peasants to rapidly climb the vertical of consciousness. They learned to read, operate complex machinery, plan, and take responsibility for production, the military, and science. The cost was enormous: repression, famine, labor camps, and millions of lives lost. But from a structural engineering perspective, the task was accomplished — within a few decades, the system significantly raised the average level of conductivity across the population.

This was a classic hard reset: the system did not persuade or incentivize — it broke old structures and forced people through intense discomfort, often against their will. Those who endured rose sharply in consciousness. Those who could not were removed from the system.

However, hard resets have severe limitations. They are extremely expensive in human lives, they destroy previously accumulated high-level capacity, and they leave deep collective trauma. By the late 20th century, it became clear that this method was both too risky and ultimately inefficient.

The 21st century marked a transition to soft, distributed resets.

The system did not abandon pressure — it refined it. It moved away from concentrated shocks toward constant, background, and nearly invisible discomfort. Instead of camps and five-year plans, it introduced more subtle tools:

• Persistent inflation, which quietly erodes the value of money kept “under the mattress” and forces people to find ways to preserve or multiply it.
• Regulatory instability — constantly changing laws, tax rules, and business requirements.
• Information overload and accelerating technological change, which make long-term homeostasis (“I learned a profession and can work calmly until retirement”) impossible.
• Economic competition and future uncertainty, which push even passive individuals into action.

These mechanisms operate on the principle of a treadmill: if you stand still, you are gradually carried backward. Remaining comfortable is no longer an option. At the same time, the system does not demand heroism — it demands minimal but continuous movement.

The main advantage of soft pressure is that it is distributed across time and space. A person does not experience one massive shock, as during the industrialization of the 1930s, but faces a steady, low-grade discomfort every day. This reduces the risk of social explosion while still performing the same function: preventing society from “falling asleep in its own garden” and gradually raising the average level of consciousness.

Thus, the system has evolved in its methods of regulating the vertical. From the crude, bloody coercion of the 20th century, it has shifted to the constant, soft, yet inexorable pressure of the 21st century. The goal remains the same: to maintain upward movement along the vertical of consciousness and prevent excessive stratification in which different groups cease to understand each other’s reality.

6. Balancing Tension and Release: How Not to Burn Out or Go Numb

The system demands movement. But constant movement without recovery is just as destructive as complete inertia. Like any complex system, consciousness requires a dynamic balance between exertion and restoration.

Two extremes are equally dangerous.

The first extreme — chronic hyper-tension. A person lives in a permanent state of over-effort, treating any rest as weakness or wasted time. They take on increasing responsibility, tackle ever more complex tasks, and almost never allow themselves real pauses. For a while, this produces visible results. But resources are finite. Eventually, conductivity begins to decline: chronic fatigue sets in, emotional burnout appears, decision quality drops, and sooner or later comes physical or psychological breakdown. A system that cannot release tension eventually destroys itself from within.

The second extreme — hypo-tension disguised as wisdom. A person with a relatively high starting level of consciousness (thanks to mature parents or earlier personal growth) gradually stops applying Delta E. They “understand everything,” “see how things really work,” but cease to act. Effort begins to seem unnecessary or even naive. Over time, their conductivity atrophies. What remains is the classic pattern of the “lazy genius” — high cognitive potential paired with almost zero real-world execution. Their consciousness becomes declarative rather than functional.

Sustainable growth occurs only in the proper alternation between tension and release.

• Tension is the deliberate activation of Delta E: stepping beyond current limits, taking responsibility, engaging with tasks that require genuine willpower.
• Release is full permission to step back — genuine rest, acceptance of the current state without immediate demands for progress or improvement. It is the phase in which the system integrates experience and restores its capacity to carry load.

Without tension, consciousness stops growing. Without release, it begins to degrade.

An important nuance: release must be genuine. If a person is “resting” but internally continues to criticize themselves (“I should be doing more”), the system never truly exits tension — it merely changes form. Real recovery requires an internal shift: “Right now, nothing is required of me.”

Practical guidelines for maintaining balance:

• Track the signals of your own system. Chronic fatigue, irritability, and loss of interest are signs of overload. Apathy, boredom, and the feeling that “everything is meaningless” are signs of insufficient tension.
• Plan both modes consciously. Tension and release should be roughly equal parts of life, not “work” and “whatever is left.”
• Do not confuse maturity with the refusal to exert effort. A high level of consciousness carries a hidden danger: the illusion that “I am already good enough.” This is a trap. Even a very mature person must maintain the habit of regular over-effort, otherwise their conductivity will begin to narrow.
• Parents should be especially attentive to this balance. Children absorb not only the level of their parents’ consciousness, but also their ability to alternate between tension and acceptance. A parent who only pushes transmits a culture of burnout. A parent who only accepts transmits a culture of stagnation.

The balance of tension and release is not a question of comfort or soft “harmony.” It is an engineering necessity. A system that cannot correctly alternate load and recovery will either break down or slowly degrade.

7. Conclusion: Creativity as the Ultimate Goal of the Vertical

We have traced the full path — from the mechanics of individual growth to large-scale systemic processes. Now it remains to assemble the complete picture and answer the central question: where does this entire vertical of consciousness ultimately lead?

At its core, the system is solving two interconnected tasks.

The first is structural: to maintain a sufficient level of collective conductivity so that society does not fracture into mutually incomprehensible realities and can continue to handle the growing complexity of the world.

The second, deeper task is to gradually shift humanity from the mode of survival and accumulation into the mode of conscious creation.

In the early stages, physical survival was the main priority. Later came the accumulation of resources, knowledge, and power. Today, for an increasing portion of humanity, the problem of basic survival and comfort is no longer central. A different question is coming to the forefront: What is all this for?

It is here that consciousness reveals its final purpose.

Once a person has advanced far enough along the vertical — once they have learned to carry a significant volume of responsibility, to manage Delta E, to alternate effectively between tension and release, and to pass on a stronger informational foundation to the next generation — a new threshold opens. Beyond it, the main task is no longer to “endure” or “accumulate,” but to open the shutters — to bring into existence what did not exist before.

Creativity, in this sense, is neither a hobby nor a profession. It is a natural continuation of the growth of consciousness. A person stops being merely a conduit for existing meanings and begins to become their source. They take the raw complexity of reality, pass it through their own structure, and return it to the world in a more ordered, meaningful, and enriched form.

Modern technologies — and especially artificial intelligence — play a distinct role in this transition. AI functions as an external cooling system and a low-level processor. It absorbs a massive amount of entropy: routine calculations, data analysis, repetitive tasks, and information retrieval. By doing so, it frees human consciousness from the constant burden of maintaining baseline operations.

What is liberated is the possibility for consciousness to operate at its highest level — the level of pure creativity and meaning-making.

Thus, the entire vertical of consciousness — with all its mechanisms of over-effort, generational transmission, hard and soft pressure, and the balance of tension and release — is leading humanity toward one final point: the transition from the era of accumulation and struggle for resources to the era of conscious co-creation.

We are not merely biological organisms striving for comfort. We are distillers of meaning. Our task is to take the raw chaos of reality, pass it through ourselves, and return it to the world in a more structured, meaningful, and enriched form.

Every person who consciously moves along this vertical contributes to this process. It does not matter from which starting point they began. What matters is the distance they have covered and how honestly and consistently they have expanded their conductivity.

The system does not demand perfection from us. It demands that we do not stop.

Because in the end, the world is not shaped by those who shout the loudest or grab the most for themselves. The world is shaped by those who are able to hold and process the greatest volume of chaos — and return it as new order and new meaning.

This is the true nature of the vertical of consciousness.

This article is a free gift. If it helped you, share it with someone who needs meaning. No payment, no subscription — just pass it on.

Self Development, Philosophy, Resilience, Productivity, Mental Models, Human Potential, Life Lessons, Psychology