Introduction

Welcome to one of the most interesting, important, and complex lessons in the Tzintiliztli Workshop Series. In this lesson, you will step into a philosophical tradition that has survived over 500 years of attempted erasure and extermination—a tradition that spoke of primordial beings that shape our reality, spoke of sacrifice as an act of reciprocity rather than desire for violence, and spoke of responsibility to the world rather than entitlement to it’s resources. Like all other worldviews, Indigenous worldviews emerge from material practices such as the astronomical observations encoded within the Xiuhpohualli [Mexica long-count calendar], the ecological practice of milpas, and the communal ethics that built cities like Teotihuacan without kings or prisons, but rather with more collective governance. Here, philosophy isn’t confined to textbooks; it’s written in the relationships between all existence.

This lesson will be longer than others, this is by design. These concepts are seldom taught in standard academic environments, yet they offer important tools for today’s crises from socioeconomic issues to climate change. You’ll encounter Nahuatl terms [translated in brackets like this], confront biased interpretations, and discover how Mexica tlamatinimeh [philosophers] debated ethics centuries before Descartes. Most importantly, you’ll see how these ideas live today in Zapatista schools, food programs, and the water protectors standing against pipelines.

As we proceed, remember our guiding principle: We either both win, or we both lose. Philosophy, at is best, is a communal labor like tending a milpa. The work humbles you, the harvest feeds many, and the seeds promise futures we’ll never see.


The Story of Cipactli and Cosmology

Below is our promotional video, We Are Cipactlan, where you can hear our telling of creation and Cipactli. This story is not simply a myth, it’s a framework for understanding chaos as generative, consumption as dangerous when unchecked, and sacrifice as the price of balance. To engage with these ideas, we must first unlearn colonial assumptions that Indigenous thought is primitive, that science and spirituality are opposed, or that land is property rather than part of ourselves. This requires intellectual humility, where everyone participating must put their perspective on the line, to improve our understanding of reality which begins when we acknowledge that no philosophy has a monopoly on truth.

This story demonstrates concepts of order emerging from chaos and chaos emerging from order via the Four Tezcatlipoca created by Teotl and Cipactli created by the Four Tezcatlipoca. This point is expanded on further with the removal of Cipactli’s jaw to bring their form from chaos to order—from insatiable hunger and greed to becoming tlalticpac, the earth/reality itself. When studying material culture, this worldview is brought into a more refined context. In the Borgia Codex, Cipactli appears as a boundry or connection between realms such as the land, the water, deep in the earth, and high above the sky—the body acting as a map of liminal spaces where transformation occurs. At the Templo Mayor in Tenochtitlan, stone carvings depict Cipactli alongside Tlaltecuhtli [Earth Lord], both demanding tribute yet also offering abundance. These depictions reveal a core tenet: creation requires sacrifice, not in the pursuit of violence, but as a sacred reciprocity. Just as Cipactli’s body fed the world, humans paid debts to the cosmos through offerings of blood, corn, amaranth, and more. These acts have been misinterpreted as mere brutality, but they embodied a profound ecological ethic while demonstrating philosophical resolve. To nourish Nahui Ollin [Fifth Sun], one must honor the costs of existence.

Cipactli’s legacy challenges modern dichotomies. Their insatiable hunger warns against unchecked consumption, while their transformation into fertile land represents regenerative collapse. To study them is a practice in confronting a philosophy where chaos isn’t inherently evil but potentiality and where the earth isn’t inert matter but a living teacher.


Indigenous Realism and Material Culture

At the heart of all knowledge systems—whether we’re talking about science, spirituality, or religion—lies the same fundamental reality. Whether we describe it as beautiful or ugly, short or tall, the tree exists as it is. What makes Nahua philosophy unique is its conscious acknowledgement of this common foundation in the concept of Teotl, often mistranslated as “god” by early colonizers. Teotl isn’t so much a deity, but more of the observable, dynamic energy that constitutes and connects all things. This perspective allowed scholars to develop advanced astronomy, mathematics, and medicine as natural extensions of the philosophical framework.

Material culture offers proof of this sophisticated knowledge such as teocalli [pyramids] and medicine wheels whose alignment marked solstices and agricultural cycles. These aren’t primitive technologies, they were the results of generations of careful observation and experimentation. The codices that survived colonial destruction provide complex insights, including medical knowledge that modern researchers are only beginning to appreciate.

This Indigenous realism offers crucial insights for today’s world. Where western thought often divides knowledge into competing categories, Indigenous philosophy recognizes these as different perspectives on the same underlying reality. Traditional practices like smudging or herbal medicine worked because they were based on real observations about disease prevention and treatment, even if explained through different metaphors that may have been forgotten to time. This isn’t to reduce Indigenous knowledge by deferring to western scientific terms, rather, it’s to acknowledge that all effective knowledge systems must ultimately align with reality to survive. The truth is in the results: when your survival depends on predicting rains or healing illness, abstract theories must prove themselves in the tangible world.

We present this understanding with respect for all perspectives in our community. For those who hold spiritual beliefs literally, this changes nothing about the power of tradition. For skeptics, it demonstrates that Indigenous knowledge has always been grounded in observable reality. What we collectively reject is the appropriation of our traditions by those selling mystical fantasies. Our ancestors were philosophers and scientists whose wisdom deserves the same respect as Aristotle or Newton. In this light, Indigenous philosophy isn’t about escaping reality through spirituality or conquering it through science, but about understanding our place within it. A perspective desperately needed in an age of climate crisis and social fragmentation.


Contrasts with Dominant Paradigms

Where Indigenous philosophy sees interconnection, western thought has built divisions between humans and nature, science and spirit, and between the individual and community. These splits aren’t just philosophical differences, they have real consequences in how we treat the earth and each other. Consider the biblical idea of “dominion” over nature, which has justified exploitation, versus the Nahua principle of duty to maintain balance through reciprocal labor. One worldview sees land as property to be owned, the other as kin to be nurtured.

These contrasts matter today. Climate change, pandemics, and inequality all stem from philosophies that privilege extraction over reciprocity. Indigenous worldviews offer not just alternatives but correctives, reminding us that no science is truly neutral and no philosophy serves humanity if it doesn’t serve the land first.


Operational Influence: Teotihuacan to Today

We are the culmination of movements passed, a liminal point between the past and the future. The philosphical principals embodied by Cipactli and teotl were never abstract theories. They shaped cities, guided governance, and continue to inspire modern movements for justice. Let’s return to Teotihuacan—the massive metropolis near modern Mexico City built without kings, slavery, or private land ownership. The city’s very layout with features like Calle de los Muertos aligned with celestial movements, operationalized Indigenous philosophy into urban design, demonstrating that egalitarian societies could flourish through communal labor and precise scientific observation.

This legacy lives in today’s Indigenous resistance. The Ejercito Zapatista de Liberacion Nacional (EZLN), rooted in Maya communities, apply these principles in viewing leadership as servitude rather than rule. Their autonomous schools teach children math and history, merging practical skills with philosophical wisdom. Similarly, the water protectors of Standing Rock invoked the Seven Generations Prophecy when opposing pipelines, framing environmental defense as both spiritual duty and scientific necessity. Even urban movements like the Chicano Pride Movement drew power from reclaiming Indigenous worldviews, using Itotia [dance] and and other traditional concepts to organize for educational justice.

These aren’t romanticized traditions but living evolutions. When Puerto Rican farmers revived Taino agroforestry to combat food shortages, or when the Black Panthers combined Marxist theory with ancestral nutrition programs, they proved Indigenous philosophy’s adaptability. From Teotihuacan’s collaborative urban planning to today’s mutual aid networks, societies thrive when they center interconnection over individualism, reciprocity over extraction, and evidence-based tradition over dogma. As climate change accelerates, these operational models tested across millennia may hold keys to our collective survival.


Organizational Philosophies

At the heart of our philosophy is Teotl, the unification that breaks down the illusions of separation between each other and the reality we experience. This principle emerges from centuries of Indigenous practice, where knowledge exists to serve the community rather than to accumulate personal prestige. Unlike academic philosophies that often emphasize accumulation of wealth as motivation for participation, we focus on tangible impacts on our community which inevitably helps us in return. Does this idea feed people? Does this heal land? Does it create more equitable relationships? These questions reflect the wisdom of balancing both intellectual rigor and practical action.

We reject philosophies that prioritize profits and ego over community and connection. Any notion that working the land, both literally and as a metaphor for necessary manual labor, is less-than and beneath certain people is incomprehensible as we see these tasks as sacred, physically and intellectually taxing, and foundational for all societies. Our model requires all members to participate in communal labor, not as charity, but as essential practice of rooting ourselves in the land. When we say the land belongs to those who work it, we affirm that stewardship is the highest form of sacrifice, whether applied to literal soil or to knowledge itself.

This leads to our approach to debate and decision-making, we either both win, or we both lose. Before entering any discussion, participants must acknowledge that their current understanding is partial, not as performative humility, but because reality is too complex for any one perspective to grasp fully. This creates space for transformative dialogue, where solutions emerge from collective intelligence rather than individual brilliance. It’s why we prioritize community efforts over the illusion of the self-made man.

Ultimately, these philosophies resist categorization as either traditional or progressive. Change is inevitable, but a people must understand where they’ve been in order to understand where they’re going. Our methodology and worldview is ancient, yet adaptive, systems strongly rooted in the past as a foundation for progression towards the future, with sincerity.


STEM and Ancestral Futures

As we stand at the crossroads of climate crisis and technological revolution, Indigenous philosophy offers more than just an alternative perspective, it provides vital tools for building sustainable futures. The descendants of astronomer engineers and mathematician poets remind us that us that science and ethics were never meant to be separated. When we bring Indigenous worldviews into STEM fields, we’re not trying to simply add some “cultural flavor” to neutral knowledge, we’re correcting a historical imbalance that has favored exploitation over balance.

We envision disciplines like civil engineering guided by the principle of reciprocal sacrifice, where infrastructure projects give back more to the land than they take. We picture computer scientists designing algorithms with the Seven Generations principle in mind, or climate research led by local Indigenous communities who have experience cultivating produce and utilizing practices that are conducive to the local ecology. This is already happening—from Zapatista autonomous schools to Maori researchers using ancestral navigation principals in modern astronomy to Tohono O’odham farmers reclaiming Himdag.

The challenge before us is to dissolve the false choice between progress and tradition. The same cosmovision that gave us precise calendars and floating gardens can inform technological development and circular economies. This requires more than token inclusion, it demands that we value Indigenous knowledge, honor land-based expertise, and measure success by community well-being rather than profit margins.

As you move forward in your studies, carry this question: How can my work—whether in labs, classrooms, or fields—honor and strengthen ancestral wisdom while revolutionizing technologies and industries for a better future? The answers won’t always be simple, but the most important solutions rarely are. Our ancestors faced their challenges with innovation rooted in community and responsibility. Now it’s our turn to do the same.


Review Questions

  • What are some examples of Indigenous material practices?

  • Who were the tlamatinimeh?

  • How do Indigenous worldviews live on today?

  • What do you think the story of Cipacltli represents?

  • How was reciprocity achieved with the natural world?

  • What is Teotl?

  • What must all effective knowledge systems align with to survive?

  • Describe some differences between Indigenous and western philosophy.

  • Provide examples of Indigenous philosophy shaping modern movements.

  • In what way does Indigenous philosophy shape Cipactlan?

  • Describe some of Cipactlan's core values.