Five thousand years ago, all technology had been outlawed on Farbar's planet. Possession was punishable by death. Technology had destroyed his species almost to extinction. Only a few hundred had survived the combined terrors of nuclear, chemical and biological wars. Technology had been trifled with. It had come too quickly, before they were ready.

They had let the genie out of the bottle before they had any idea how to control it. They stumbled upon the ability to build weapons of mass destruction before they were sufficiently grown-up enough to know not to build the damn things.

They had just begun to venture off their home world out into space. The trouble they might have caused was unimaginable. Thankfully for nearby worlds, Farbar's people began to self destruct before they could cause their neighbours too much grief. No-one even knew what the wars were about any more. The power of technology had gone to their heads. Greed and ignorance ruled. Jealousy and mayhem were the order of the day. By the time cooler heads prevailed, it was too late. Forces had been loosed that could not be stopped. The viruses and bacteria that had been cultured so carefully, and targeted so precisely, mutated before their very eyes, and ran rampant. There was nowhere to hide. Only those who's fickle genes were for some reason resistant to these self induced plagues had any hope for survival. And they were very few and very far between.

Scattered here and there over the face of the planet, separated by vast distances, alone or in small groups, the shell-shocked survivors were left with a world that was a wasteland - radioactive and full of poisons. Life expectancy was short. Procreation was difficult. The population continued to dwindle. Hope faded. It was not a happy time. Miraculously, after a long tortuous couple of centuries, when their abused planet was finally able to start regenerating itself again, when enough of the radiation and toxins had been absorbed and dissipated that green things began to cautiously emerge from the rubble, there were still a few of Farbar's people left - two or three hundred maybe; no-one knows for sure - stubbornly clinging to existence, so that against all odds, decidedly undeserved, their species persevered, as if the gods were holding them for some higher purpose.

Farbar's entire species had come within a whisker of being erased from reality, and now, as he gazed at the pastoral scene in front of him, blighted by the hated object in its midst, he shivered involuntarily. It had come so close! In the aftermath of their brush with annihilation, instead of simply moderating their habits, the survivors went to the extreme, as people gripped by fear are apt to do. The pendulum that had been pushed so far now swung back in the opposite direction with a vengeance. A people who had been entirely dependent on technology, now abandoned it completely.

They went back to nature; at least, what was left of nature, amongst the broken ruins. They lived as their ancient ancestors lived: in tents and stone huts. They tilled and harvested the land by hand. There were no transportation devices, no communication devices. It was almost as if the entire species was taken back in time.

Except that the few, scattered survivors of the End Wars (as they were called), were very different from their ancestors in one crucially important way: their brains, having had that much more time to evolve, were more highly developed. So although their lifestyle appeared primitive, their minds retained all their knowledge. When knowledge is passed down through enough generations, it becomes implanted in the genetic code. They may have eliminated all technology, but they did not eliminate the knowledge of technology. That would have just been silly, if it was possible at all.

Like most sentient lifeforms, Farbar's people had a lust for learning, building, creating. And since those energies could not be directed into technology any more, they were directed inwards, and slowly but surely, over centuries, over millenia, they began to master their minds.

Their world was full of dangers. They needed to protect themselves, and they needed to do it without the use of technology. So they began to evolve cerebrally. They discovered that their thoughts had enormous power. It was difficult to tap that power, however. It took a tremendous amount of mental discipline. But without technology, they had no other choice, and when enough desperate attempts are taken over a long enough period of time, sooner or later, progress is ultimately made. Slowly but surely, Farbar's people managed to put their tainted past behind them.

Time, however, not only heals all wounds, but also eventually brings the pendulum back in line, and ever so insidiously, like a spider stalking its prey, technology was creeping back into their lives.

It's been more than fifty years since one of the most peaceful and enlightened cultures on Earth was outlawed by the Chinese communist government, and the Dalai Lama forced into exile. When will this momentous wrong be made right? Does anybody care? The Dalai Lama and the Tibetan people have not given up. They wait, with the kind of spiritual patience unknown to the western psyche. Oh yes, we could all learn a lot from Tibet. Why aren't governments around the world doing something? Because there are no votes in it, that's why. It's time to change that, and let our governments know that we do care. To learn more about the culture and history of Tibet, and what you can do to help, visit The Government of Tibet in Exile.