So, I recently read A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking. Given my interests, it's surprising it's taken me this long to get around to reading it. I have to say that I'm sorry I didn't read it sooner. It's quite fascinating, if a bit over my head at times. It's amazing to me how counter-intuitive physics becomes when you break it down to the quantum level or try to stretch it back to the beginning of time. It's even more amazing that we've managed to figure out any of the parts beyond Newtonian physics, which is, relatively speaking, pretty easy to observe.
I can't imagine the internal conflict for the first physicists to investigate these advanced concepts. Bohr, Schrödinger, Einstein, just to name a few, must have been stunned by the things they discovered. Indeed, Einstein's objections to some of the conclusions he and his colleagues were coming to are well documented. I'm reminded somewhat of Darwin's inner struggle with the reality he observed with evolution and natural selection versus what his lifelong faith told him about the origin of species.
Most interesting, though, is what these researches discovered about what we don't know and, indeed, perhaps can never know. The most significant of these, in my opinion, is Werner Heisenberg’s formulation of the uncertainty principle. I have to admit, this is one of those things that kind of goes over my head. I'm sure if I were a better mathematician, I might "get it" a bit more, but I'm not, so I don't.
I understand only the most basic concepts that come from uncertainty. Let me sum it up in my own words. Uncertainty basically tells us that there are certain variables that cannot be known to the same level of precision simultaneously. These variables seem to be somehow complementary to one another, or at least, the possible methods of measuring them seem to be complementary in such a fashion that the more precisely you know one, the less precisely you can know the other. For example, if you measure the position of some particle with high degree of precision, you will be unable to measure its momentum with much precision at all. Conversely, if you've measured its exact momentum, its position will be a mystery.
I've actually known this specific example of the uncertainty principle for quite some time, but I always thought that it was merely a matter of weakness in our measuring capabilities. According to Heisenberg's work, however, uncertainty is actually a feature of the universe. It wouldn't matter how advanced our instruments were, we could never measure these things simultaneously to the same level of precision.
I was thinking about this the other day, trying to figure out if I could come up with a macroscopic example that would demonstrate how this could possibly be true, and I think I came up with one. Please bear with me as I try to set it up...
Have you ever played Outburst? How about Password? In these games, and a few others, you have a card with some words written on them in light blue ink. Then, over the entire surface of the card, there are a bunch of small, randomly-shaped, and transparent red splotches. The purpose of this red pattern is to obscure the words written in blue so that they cannot be read at a glance. The only way to read them clearly is to insert the card into this little red plastic window that comes with the game. The clear red window cancels out the red on the card and the light blue ink of the words stand out as a dark purple.
Another example of this same concept is those old red and blue 3-D glasses. When I was a kid, I had this book with a bunch of drawings of dinosaurs in this blue and red ink. When you looked at it through the 3-D glasses, the dinosaurs seemed to jump off the page. I noticed that when I put the red eye of the glasses over a part of the drawing, the red lines would disappear. Similarly, when I put the blue eye of the glasses over the drawing, the blue lines would disappear.
Ok, going back to the Outburst example, say you wanted to read the words on the card as clearly as you possibly could. The best way to do that would be to slip the card into the red window. Now, say you wanted to see the random red splotches as clearly as you could. To do that, you'd put the card into a blue window. Now, it is true that green would contrast best with the red splotches, but you would still barely be able to see the word in blue ink, which might interfere with how well you were able to see the detailed shape of the red splotches over that word.
So, what if you wanted to be able to see both the words and the red splotches in the best detail possible simultaneously? One might suppose that a purple window might work, but probably not very well. I doubt you could see either the blue or the red ink any better than you could in regular light. Even if it was better, it still wouldn't be as good as seeing either one color or the other in the windows specifically designed to cancel out the color you wanted it to.
Wow, are you still with me?
So, translating this example to uncertainty, the words in blue ink represent a particle's position and the red splotches represent its momentum. To know its position with a high degree of precision, you have to put it in the red window. For its momentum, the blue window is best. There exists no window, however, that would reveal both simultaneously as nicely as the red and blue windows reveal the blue and red ink respectively.
Well, how do you like that? I've just reduced one of the most puzzling (to me) aspects of quantum physics to the simple pieces of a family game. Though I admit, this may just as well describe a lack of understanding as it does the basic concept of uncertainty. I'd be curious to know what a physicist thinks of it.
Ok, so what the hell does this have to do with determinism? Well, when I first read that uncertainty was "built in" to the universe and is something we are not likely to be able to overcome, my whole idea of a deterministic universe started crashing around me. Now, keep in mind that I was sleepily reading this on a flight to L.A., so my brain wasn't at its peak. What I later realized was that it still doesn't necessarily rule out determinism. All it does is solidify the idea that the universe is ultimately unpredictable. Uncertainty assures that we will never have all the information necessary to propagate the laws of physics out theoretically to some future moment.
In my last post about determinism, I hypothesized about a computer that was powerful enough to hold all the information and perform all the calculations necessary to predict the future. I reasoned that such a computer could not be built because it would require infinite resources. Thinking about it now, I realize I may have been wrong about not only the reason it was impossible, but also its requirements. The reason it would be impossible is because uncertainty guarantees that we will never have all the information necessary to load into the computer. So, even if we had infinite memory, we wouldn't be able to fill it with the necessary information to perform our calculations.
Which brings me to its requirements. Would it really need infinite memory? My reasoning was that such a computer would have to include a simulation of itself resident in memory, which would set up an infinitely recursive situation. If we're talking about building a computer in the sense of a modern-day computer, that might not be far off. In A Brief History of Time, Hawking talks about the laws of thermodynamics and entropy. He says that in the process of storing data in memory or processing that data, a computer generates heat, which increases the overall entropy in the universe by a much higher degree than the order that is created by the memory storage or processing. So, my future-gazing computer would have to at least include in its simulation the amount of heat it outputs into the universe, which would require more memory and processing, which would increase the heat further...etc.
But, let's say we don't build the computer like a modern-day computer. Instead, we'll let the universe run the simulation itself. Or, at least, we'll have half the universe run the simulation. So, let's ignore uncertainty for a moment. All we have to do is freeze time and build a huge partition that splits the universe exactly in half and prevents any energy transfer between the two. Then, we arrange every particle in one half in exactly the same position as the particles in the other half. Once that's done, we use the laws of physics to manipulate one half as it will appear at some arbitrary point in the future. Now the only thing left is to start up time again. If you want to know what's going to happen in the future of the one half, you just have to look at the other half. Simple, no?
Actually, it's not simple. In fact, it's ridiculous. You have to throw out so many physical laws to accomplish this, in the end you're just dealing with fantasy. Ignore uncertainty? Freeze time? Build a perfect barrier between two halves of the universe? Even if you could do these things, what do you then do to calculate out the future of each particle in the half that's going to be your future universe? You can't use a computer, because that's what you're building. It's the whole reason for this insane project! The only option that leaves is to do it by hand or incrementally using weaker computers. Even so, if you could freeze time, you could take the preposterously ponderous amount of time required to calculate the future incrementally using your weaker computers.
I could go on, but it doesn't serve my point, which is that even if the universe is deterministic, which I believe it to be, it may as well not be. Daunting does not even begin to describe the most trivial of steps in calculating the exact future of the universe, and that's even ignoring uncertainty. Throw uncertainty into the picture and your nearly infinitely difficult task literally becomes impossible.
Now, let me propose a thought experiment to you. I'm not sure what conclusions you might draw from it, but I think its purpose is more to evaluate how you think about time (and time travel) than to determine whether or not the universe is deterministic. However, if any definite conclusions could be reached with this experiment, they might have some interesting implications about determinism. So, here goes:
Suppose I approached you and asked you at some specific moment to choose a random number between 1 and 100. If there are truly random events in the universe and human free will is a consequence of that randomness, then there is a 1 in 100 chance that you will pick a particular number within that range, regardless of any events that occurred in all of the universe's history before I asked you to choose.
Now, suppose at some arbitrary point in the future I traveled back in time to a point before I asked you to choose a number and, taking the place of my past self, I approach you at the same moment I did previously and ask you in exactly the same way to choose a random number between 1 and 100. Again, we are assuming that there are truly random events and our free will is a consequence of them. It shouldn't matter, then, that this already happened in the past I know. There should still be a 1 in 100 chance that you will pick a specific number in that range, which means that the number you choose this time might not be the same as the number you chose last time.
Think about how time travel is represented in science fiction. Does this thought experiment agree with that representation? Consider the hypothetical "what if you could go back and kill Hitler?" question. Well, what if you went back far enough that enough events that depended upon the random elements of a non-deterministic universe played out differently and maybe Hitler wasn't even born, or maybe he made different decisions that led to a different history than the one we know? In this hypothetical universe where random events truly happen and have noticeable effects, you wouldn't necessarily have to do anything to stop Hitler. It might just work out that Hitler never ends up doing what he did in our history, if he even exists at all.
There is, of course, one minor kink in this experiment. If the universe is deterministic, then the amount of entropy you inject into the past universe by arriving there via time travel might have a significant effect on future events as well. Just by being there, the energy your body gives off as it metabolizes calories might change how history plays out. Unless you can figure out how to travel to the past without adding more entropy to the past universe, you'd never be able to completely rely upon your observations to prove randomness. But to talk about figuring out how to prevent contamination of your experiment while traveling to the past, you have to figure out how to travel to the past in the first place.
Ultimately, we're no further along in figuring out whether or not the universe is deterministic. I still believe that it is, but I also still believe that it doesn't matter. And it seems like the more we know, the more we're starting to understand that we'll never know it all. We may end up knowing a lot of it, but some things in the universe will still remain a mystery. I'm ok with that.
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Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Determinism in a Chaotic Universe
Lately, I find myself frequently thinking of determinism. I'd like to put down some of my thoughts, though I doubt I have anything new to say on the matter. It's one of those things, like so many, that we probably can't really know the answer to, but that's one of the reasons these kinds questions are so intriguing. It's only when our questions are finally fully answered that we will stop asking them. So, let's hope for the sake of human intellectual development that some of these questions never get answered, or that, if they do, others take their place.
Anyhow, on to determinism. The question in most people's minds, I think, when they think about determinism is whether a deterministic universe can allow free will. Also, many proponents of free will often wonder how a belief in determinism does not result in fatalism or defeatism. Ostensibly, it does seem rather contradictory to believe in both determinism and free will. It's a complicated question, and not one that I'm all that sure I can even begin to answer. I don't think my purpose is really to answer any questions, rather to hypothesize, or at least to ramble thoughtfully. What I'm trying to say is, don't take me too seriously.
Okay, so as a basic definition, determinism is the belief that every event, from the most trivial to the most significant, has a cause or set of causes. Physics suggests that the universe is at least partially deterministic. Psychology tells us that human behavior is deterministic to some degree. Causality is a deterministic concept and popular fodder for time-travel-loving sci-fi writers.
For society in general, feelings about determinism are complicated. Some say there's a reason for everything. Concepts of fate and destiny are romanticized in popular culture. When we see someone we pity doing something horrible, we say he can't help it. It's just the way he was raised, or he doesn't know any better. If some tragedy befalls us, it's not our fault. There were events beyond your control. Suggest to the average person, however, that every decision she makes or feeling she has is the end result of a sequence of events that chains back to the beginning of existence, and she will likely feel insulted, or at least be a little indignant at the suggestion that her thoughts are not completely her choice.
That is not to say that all determinists believe that our actions are predetermined. There are those who also believe in free will and even those who say that, despite the deterministic nature of the universe and its influence on our thoughts and feelings, we are still ultimately in control. As I've already said, I don't think I can answer the obvious questions that spring from this stance. All I can do is discuss my thoughts.
So, do I think our thoughts and feelings are predetermined? Well, as uncomfortable as the idea makes me, I'm kind of leaning towards yes. To me, thoughts and feelings are simply a sequence of complex chemical and electrical interactions. It might seem cold to reduce them to that, and I confess it is rather an oversimplification, but it's difficult for me to think otherwise, given my interpretation of what science has to say on the matter. If it can really be reduced to simply a sequence of chemical and electrical interactions, which by their nature are governed by the laws of physics, then how they could possibly be non-deterministic is beyond me.
Then what's the point of doing anything? Or deciding anything? If everything is predetermined, then what is the point of anything? Well, that attitude is fatalist, and I think you'll find that there are few determinists who are fatalists. Why? Well, to put it obviously, events that depend upon you doing them to get done won't get done if you decide not to do them. Of course, if that decision is not really in your control, that is to say, if whether or not you make that decision is based on every event in history since the beginning of time, then, again I ask, what is the point of "deciding" anything? Enough commas in that sentence for you?
Here's the problem with thinking of the universe in deterministic terms. It always leads to cyclic or self referential arguments. Whether it's about whether our decisions are our own or about the origin of a deterministic universe, we find ourselves getting caught up in the pointless infinite loop of logic that our limited brains must do when we try to reason about the unknowable.
The thing is, nothing is gained from the knowledge of whether or not the universe is deterministic. Even if we knew for certain that it was, it still wouldn't make the universe predictable. If the universe is truly deterministic, that would mean that if we knew every governing rule of existence and every single state of every infinitesimal piece therein, we could extrapolate future events with 100% accuracy. The problem is, that is not possible for us. No human brain, no matter how evolved, could hold that much information and process it fast enough to glean any useful information from it. Similarly, we could never build a computer that could do it either. In order to hold the state of every infinitesimal piece of existence, first of all, we would have to have discovered them all first, and second of all, we would have to be able to hold an infinite amount of stuff in memory. Even if there is only a finite amount of information in a single slice of time in existence, the computer would also have to have a simulation of itself in its simulation of the universe. And we're back to the self-referencing problem we had earlier. Even the finite information would become infinite because the simulation of the computer simulating the universe would have the same simulation of the universe running inside it, which would contain the same simulated computer running a simulation...ad infinitum.
Let me explain why it doesn't matter in simpler terms. Pick a random number between 1 and 100. Ok, now I'm going to guess what it is. Are you thinking of it? Good.
It's 68.
Was I right? According to probability, I'm not likely to be. According to probability, on the average I would guess correctly for 1 out of every 100 people who read this post. I would guess that, given a large enough sample, it probably works out that way too. Does that mean people are actually capable of choosing random numbers? Would I be able to guess any better if I knew every experience you had ever had since birth? Probably not, but that doesn't mean that your choice wasn't influenced by those experiences.
Now take this little JavaScript I wrote to generate a random Sudoku puzzle. It generates a bunch of random numbers to fill in a grid, then randomly deletes pairs of cells such that it doesn't end up in multiple solutions. Now, is it truly random? No. I know for sure that it isn't. I know that when the script requests a random number, it looks at the system time, does some kind of math with it and returns the result. If I knew the exact system times when each random request was made and the math that was used to generate the number, I could calculate by hand the solution to the Sudoku puzzle the same way the computer did.
Ah, now we're getting to the heart of my point. Here's the thing, even if I could know all of the starting information and solve it by doing exactly what the computer did by hand, why the hell would I want to do that? What's the point? Is it faster that way? Not with my math skills. Is it more fun? I daresay it isn't. Similarly, even if I could somehow calculate "by hand" which random number you would have chosen, is it worth our time? Is nearly as amazing as my simply guessing it "at random" (assuming either one of those is amazing to any degree)?
See, the thing is, JavaScript’s random number generator is "good enough", as it serves our purposes for such a trivial task. Just like the number I asked you to choose randomly. Even if it wasn't random, it might as well be. It works the same for the universe. It might be deterministic, but it may as well be at least a little random because we can't ever know every state in one timeslice of existence and thus the starting conditions for it all.
I don't know that this argues that we should be mindful of our decisions and keep trying to improve our lives, but the possibility that it doesn't matter isn't going to stop me. If the universe IS deterministic, then things aren't going to just get better randomly. It's going to require the initial condition of effort on my part. My decision to make that effort might be predetermined, but I'm grateful that it is if that's the case. I also take comfort, like many people, in the fact that, whether the universe is random or deterministic, some events (most of them, in fact) really are beyond our control. It might not be the highest note to end on, but it serves its purpose.
Anyhow, on to determinism. The question in most people's minds, I think, when they think about determinism is whether a deterministic universe can allow free will. Also, many proponents of free will often wonder how a belief in determinism does not result in fatalism or defeatism. Ostensibly, it does seem rather contradictory to believe in both determinism and free will. It's a complicated question, and not one that I'm all that sure I can even begin to answer. I don't think my purpose is really to answer any questions, rather to hypothesize, or at least to ramble thoughtfully. What I'm trying to say is, don't take me too seriously.
Okay, so as a basic definition, determinism is the belief that every event, from the most trivial to the most significant, has a cause or set of causes. Physics suggests that the universe is at least partially deterministic. Psychology tells us that human behavior is deterministic to some degree. Causality is a deterministic concept and popular fodder for time-travel-loving sci-fi writers.
For society in general, feelings about determinism are complicated. Some say there's a reason for everything. Concepts of fate and destiny are romanticized in popular culture. When we see someone we pity doing something horrible, we say he can't help it. It's just the way he was raised, or he doesn't know any better. If some tragedy befalls us, it's not our fault. There were events beyond your control. Suggest to the average person, however, that every decision she makes or feeling she has is the end result of a sequence of events that chains back to the beginning of existence, and she will likely feel insulted, or at least be a little indignant at the suggestion that her thoughts are not completely her choice.
That is not to say that all determinists believe that our actions are predetermined. There are those who also believe in free will and even those who say that, despite the deterministic nature of the universe and its influence on our thoughts and feelings, we are still ultimately in control. As I've already said, I don't think I can answer the obvious questions that spring from this stance. All I can do is discuss my thoughts.
So, do I think our thoughts and feelings are predetermined? Well, as uncomfortable as the idea makes me, I'm kind of leaning towards yes. To me, thoughts and feelings are simply a sequence of complex chemical and electrical interactions. It might seem cold to reduce them to that, and I confess it is rather an oversimplification, but it's difficult for me to think otherwise, given my interpretation of what science has to say on the matter. If it can really be reduced to simply a sequence of chemical and electrical interactions, which by their nature are governed by the laws of physics, then how they could possibly be non-deterministic is beyond me.
Then what's the point of doing anything? Or deciding anything? If everything is predetermined, then what is the point of anything? Well, that attitude is fatalist, and I think you'll find that there are few determinists who are fatalists. Why? Well, to put it obviously, events that depend upon you doing them to get done won't get done if you decide not to do them. Of course, if that decision is not really in your control, that is to say, if whether or not you make that decision is based on every event in history since the beginning of time, then, again I ask, what is the point of "deciding" anything? Enough commas in that sentence for you?
Here's the problem with thinking of the universe in deterministic terms. It always leads to cyclic or self referential arguments. Whether it's about whether our decisions are our own or about the origin of a deterministic universe, we find ourselves getting caught up in the pointless infinite loop of logic that our limited brains must do when we try to reason about the unknowable.
The thing is, nothing is gained from the knowledge of whether or not the universe is deterministic. Even if we knew for certain that it was, it still wouldn't make the universe predictable. If the universe is truly deterministic, that would mean that if we knew every governing rule of existence and every single state of every infinitesimal piece therein, we could extrapolate future events with 100% accuracy. The problem is, that is not possible for us. No human brain, no matter how evolved, could hold that much information and process it fast enough to glean any useful information from it. Similarly, we could never build a computer that could do it either. In order to hold the state of every infinitesimal piece of existence, first of all, we would have to have discovered them all first, and second of all, we would have to be able to hold an infinite amount of stuff in memory. Even if there is only a finite amount of information in a single slice of time in existence, the computer would also have to have a simulation of itself in its simulation of the universe. And we're back to the self-referencing problem we had earlier. Even the finite information would become infinite because the simulation of the computer simulating the universe would have the same simulation of the universe running inside it, which would contain the same simulated computer running a simulation...ad infinitum.
Let me explain why it doesn't matter in simpler terms. Pick a random number between 1 and 100. Ok, now I'm going to guess what it is. Are you thinking of it? Good.
It's 68.
Was I right? According to probability, I'm not likely to be. According to probability, on the average I would guess correctly for 1 out of every 100 people who read this post. I would guess that, given a large enough sample, it probably works out that way too. Does that mean people are actually capable of choosing random numbers? Would I be able to guess any better if I knew every experience you had ever had since birth? Probably not, but that doesn't mean that your choice wasn't influenced by those experiences.
Now take this little JavaScript I wrote to generate a random Sudoku puzzle. It generates a bunch of random numbers to fill in a grid, then randomly deletes pairs of cells such that it doesn't end up in multiple solutions. Now, is it truly random? No. I know for sure that it isn't. I know that when the script requests a random number, it looks at the system time, does some kind of math with it and returns the result. If I knew the exact system times when each random request was made and the math that was used to generate the number, I could calculate by hand the solution to the Sudoku puzzle the same way the computer did.
Ah, now we're getting to the heart of my point. Here's the thing, even if I could know all of the starting information and solve it by doing exactly what the computer did by hand, why the hell would I want to do that? What's the point? Is it faster that way? Not with my math skills. Is it more fun? I daresay it isn't. Similarly, even if I could somehow calculate "by hand" which random number you would have chosen, is it worth our time? Is nearly as amazing as my simply guessing it "at random" (assuming either one of those is amazing to any degree)?
See, the thing is, JavaScript’s random number generator is "good enough", as it serves our purposes for such a trivial task. Just like the number I asked you to choose randomly. Even if it wasn't random, it might as well be. It works the same for the universe. It might be deterministic, but it may as well be at least a little random because we can't ever know every state in one timeslice of existence and thus the starting conditions for it all.
I don't know that this argues that we should be mindful of our decisions and keep trying to improve our lives, but the possibility that it doesn't matter isn't going to stop me. If the universe IS deterministic, then things aren't going to just get better randomly. It's going to require the initial condition of effort on my part. My decision to make that effort might be predetermined, but I'm grateful that it is if that's the case. I also take comfort, like many people, in the fact that, whether the universe is random or deterministic, some events (most of them, in fact) really are beyond our control. It might not be the highest note to end on, but it serves its purpose.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Lending Credence to Disbelief
Here's a recommendation for those philosophical free thinkers out there who aren't afraid to challenge their own beliefs. If you regularly read the comments on my posts you might have noticed that my buddy Megan posted a link to my new favorite website: whywontgodhealamputees.com.
Now, you know how I hate to stir the pot, so I'm warning those who are religious and rigid in the literal interpretation of their specific brand of faith. The website is written from an atheist's point of view. If you're not willing to seriously look at the questions the author poses and examine the way they fit into the dynamic of your belief system, don't bother visiting. Hey, I'm just trying to save you some time.
If, however, you're an atheist who doesn't know how to argue his own point, or you're a follower of an "alternate" faith who wants a really good way to diffuse a zealous conversion attempt by a fanatical Christian, Muslim, or for some strange reason, Jew (I don't know too many Jews that try to convert people), this is the website for you.
I feel it's only fair to say, though, that I don't agree completely with all of the author's conclusions. I agree with most of them and with the most important ones. I just feel he's to quick to assume that everyone's on board with his view of what his questions mean. And his disgust for believers comes through a little too much later in the text, but I did find his questions fascinating and poignant. I will undoubtedly use the material I gleaned from this website in the future, but I will cast it in my own, less disdainful light.
Now, you know how I hate to stir the pot, so I'm warning those who are religious and rigid in the literal interpretation of their specific brand of faith. The website is written from an atheist's point of view. If you're not willing to seriously look at the questions the author poses and examine the way they fit into the dynamic of your belief system, don't bother visiting. Hey, I'm just trying to save you some time.
If, however, you're an atheist who doesn't know how to argue his own point, or you're a follower of an "alternate" faith who wants a really good way to diffuse a zealous conversion attempt by a fanatical Christian, Muslim, or for some strange reason, Jew (I don't know too many Jews that try to convert people), this is the website for you.
I feel it's only fair to say, though, that I don't agree completely with all of the author's conclusions. I agree with most of them and with the most important ones. I just feel he's to quick to assume that everyone's on board with his view of what his questions mean. And his disgust for believers comes through a little too much later in the text, but I did find his questions fascinating and poignant. I will undoubtedly use the material I gleaned from this website in the future, but I will cast it in my own, less disdainful light.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Speaking of Dumb Questions...
Back in the early infancy of this blog (and I have to specify early infancy because it is still quite young), I wrote a post about stupid questions. I said that there did indeed have to be stupid questions, otherwise we would have to conclude that there are just a whole bunch of stupid people. I mean, I guess we can still come to that conclusion if we like, but I like to at least start out giving people the benefit of the doubt.
In a later post, I spoke about government, politics, faith, and religion. Somewhere in there, I mentioned in passing a question that has been asked by many to call into question the omnipotence of God. I dismissed the question then, but I would like to address it now. And before some of you start worrying about how the rest of this post is going to go, don't. This is merely a hypothetical philosophical discussion that I think anyone, regardless of his or her beliefs, will enjoy.
The question I am referencing, of course, is the one that begs whether God is capable of creating a stone so heavy that he himself could not lift it. When I mentioned it many posts ago, I said that the question simply shows the inability of a creation to understand the incomprehensible nature of its creator. I've come to believe, however, that it's even more basic than that.
God is supposed to be an omnipotent being. This is why the question is asked. If he were capable of making such a stone, it indicates a limit to his power. Likewise, if he couldn't, he is once again limited. But let us, for a moment, remove the identity of this being. Let us instead ask if any omnipotent being could do this. Or more accurately, let's ask if the meaning of omnipotence includes having the ability of one so endowed to create objects heavier than he can lift.
Humans are pretty funny. We spend so much time trying to alter the environment to suit our needs, tastes and whims. In the end, all of what we do in the physical world is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. We are hardly omnipotent, but we pretty frequently make things that are too heavy for us to lift. If we can do it, and do it quite handily, shouldn't a being infinitely more powerful than us be able to do it?
Before we get all high and mighty and say, "Aha! We can make objects so heavy even we can't lift them! Take THAT, omnipotent being," let's just think about this for a moment. Being able to accomplish this task only shows us how weak we really are. Wouldn't it be nice if members of land survey committees could just pick up a skyscraper with their bare hands and move it over just slightly if it overlapped city property? Wouldn't we really be something if we could effortlessly hurl the SUV that stole our parking space?
But that's the point, isn't it? What do I gain from arguing the above? If, by this argument, I'm claiming that said omnipotent being couldn't make an object heavier than she could lift, am I not also claiming a limit to that omnipotence?
Ah! Well, now we come to it. What does omnipotent mean? Houghton-Mifflin has this to say on the matter:
om·nip'·o·tent
Adjective:
~ Having unlimited or universal power, authority, or force; all-powerful.
Ok now, using this definition of omnipotence, let me rephrase the question to say what it is truly asking:
Does an all-powerful being also have the power to limit his own power?
If we answer yes to this, then the moment this being exercises this power, he strips himself of his omnipotence and is, therefore, no longer all-powerful. So, here we go again, around in a circle, right? Well, think about it. What kind of limitation is there really to not being able to do anything that in some way exceeds at least one of your other abilities?
Let me put it this way, what if God can't make a stone so heavy that even he can't lift it? That means that not only could God make a stone of infinite volume and density (i.e. mass) and the requisite source of gravity to make the force of weight appropriately infinite, but he could also lift that very same stone. Omnipotence is pretty cool, isn't it?
What it comes down to is that we have a basic misunderstanding of the word omnipotence. Because of the nature of our language, we're able to make paradoxical statements. For example, what is the truth value of the following statement: this statement is false. If it's true, it's false and vice versa. Obviously, such statements are anomalies caused by the rules of syntax and how we represent words in our minds. The truth value of the statement is moot because no one would ever be inspired to state it as a self-contained statement in a real-world situation. Likewise, as incomprehensible as God's will supposedly is, I am quite certain that such a being would not engage himself in such an endeavor as is posed by the question we're talking about.
So, when you come right down to it, I seem to be saying that God cannot make a stone so heavy that he can't lift it, right?
Right.
So, that does mean there's a limit to his power, Right?
Well, I suppose, technically.
But then, that means he's not omnipotent, right?
No.
Huh?
Okay...here's my proposed solution. We need to redefine the word omnipotent because that is really where the problem is. I'm sorry, but not being able to limit your own power is no kind of limit. Here is my new proposed definition:
om·nip'·o·tent
Adjective:
~ Having the power, authority, or force to do anything and everything aside from anything that minimalizes or contradicts that power; essentially all-powerful.
It may not be perfect, but there it is. Also, just as a note, this is not meant to be a proof of God's existence nor a proof of his omnipotence if he does indeed exist. This is actually a proof of the inadequacy of our understanding of the nature of omnipotence. In essence, we are impotent to comprehend omnipotence...whatever that means.
In a later post, I spoke about government, politics, faith, and religion. Somewhere in there, I mentioned in passing a question that has been asked by many to call into question the omnipotence of God. I dismissed the question then, but I would like to address it now. And before some of you start worrying about how the rest of this post is going to go, don't. This is merely a hypothetical philosophical discussion that I think anyone, regardless of his or her beliefs, will enjoy.
The question I am referencing, of course, is the one that begs whether God is capable of creating a stone so heavy that he himself could not lift it. When I mentioned it many posts ago, I said that the question simply shows the inability of a creation to understand the incomprehensible nature of its creator. I've come to believe, however, that it's even more basic than that.
God is supposed to be an omnipotent being. This is why the question is asked. If he were capable of making such a stone, it indicates a limit to his power. Likewise, if he couldn't, he is once again limited. But let us, for a moment, remove the identity of this being. Let us instead ask if any omnipotent being could do this. Or more accurately, let's ask if the meaning of omnipotence includes having the ability of one so endowed to create objects heavier than he can lift.
Humans are pretty funny. We spend so much time trying to alter the environment to suit our needs, tastes and whims. In the end, all of what we do in the physical world is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. We are hardly omnipotent, but we pretty frequently make things that are too heavy for us to lift. If we can do it, and do it quite handily, shouldn't a being infinitely more powerful than us be able to do it?
Before we get all high and mighty and say, "Aha! We can make objects so heavy even we can't lift them! Take THAT, omnipotent being," let's just think about this for a moment. Being able to accomplish this task only shows us how weak we really are. Wouldn't it be nice if members of land survey committees could just pick up a skyscraper with their bare hands and move it over just slightly if it overlapped city property? Wouldn't we really be something if we could effortlessly hurl the SUV that stole our parking space?
But that's the point, isn't it? What do I gain from arguing the above? If, by this argument, I'm claiming that said omnipotent being couldn't make an object heavier than she could lift, am I not also claiming a limit to that omnipotence?
Ah! Well, now we come to it. What does omnipotent mean? Houghton-Mifflin has this to say on the matter:
om·nip'·o·tent
Adjective:
~ Having unlimited or universal power, authority, or force; all-powerful.
Ok now, using this definition of omnipotence, let me rephrase the question to say what it is truly asking:
Does an all-powerful being also have the power to limit his own power?
If we answer yes to this, then the moment this being exercises this power, he strips himself of his omnipotence and is, therefore, no longer all-powerful. So, here we go again, around in a circle, right? Well, think about it. What kind of limitation is there really to not being able to do anything that in some way exceeds at least one of your other abilities?
Let me put it this way, what if God can't make a stone so heavy that even he can't lift it? That means that not only could God make a stone of infinite volume and density (i.e. mass) and the requisite source of gravity to make the force of weight appropriately infinite, but he could also lift that very same stone. Omnipotence is pretty cool, isn't it?
What it comes down to is that we have a basic misunderstanding of the word omnipotence. Because of the nature of our language, we're able to make paradoxical statements. For example, what is the truth value of the following statement: this statement is false. If it's true, it's false and vice versa. Obviously, such statements are anomalies caused by the rules of syntax and how we represent words in our minds. The truth value of the statement is moot because no one would ever be inspired to state it as a self-contained statement in a real-world situation. Likewise, as incomprehensible as God's will supposedly is, I am quite certain that such a being would not engage himself in such an endeavor as is posed by the question we're talking about.
So, when you come right down to it, I seem to be saying that God cannot make a stone so heavy that he can't lift it, right?
Right.
So, that does mean there's a limit to his power, Right?
Well, I suppose, technically.
But then, that means he's not omnipotent, right?
No.
Huh?
Okay...here's my proposed solution. We need to redefine the word omnipotent because that is really where the problem is. I'm sorry, but not being able to limit your own power is no kind of limit. Here is my new proposed definition:
om·nip'·o·tent
Adjective:
~ Having the power, authority, or force to do anything and everything aside from anything that minimalizes or contradicts that power; essentially all-powerful.
It may not be perfect, but there it is. Also, just as a note, this is not meant to be a proof of God's existence nor a proof of his omnipotence if he does indeed exist. This is actually a proof of the inadequacy of our understanding of the nature of omnipotence. In essence, we are impotent to comprehend omnipotence...whatever that means.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Good vs. Evil
The deep rumble of thunder reverberates across the barren countryside. A shadow looms over the craggy desert landscape as dark clouds fill the sky from seemingly nowhere. Pulsating flashes of light illuminate portions of the dense ceiling, revealing illusions of flickering shapes that skitter along the ground. The air grows heavy with a sudden stifling humidity and a sense that something other than a simple summer storm is afoot.
Soon, the sky's thick shroud obscures the corpse of the land from sight. The intermittent flashes of lightening reveal glimpses of the macabre features below. Jagged formations of red stone jut from the uneven ground, and here and there great gashes in the earth open to depths unseeable. The wounded desert floor ripples and heaves as the spidering veins of electric light in the sky inspire the shadows to take up a lively, if stilted, dance.
Slowly, as the ancient wounds stretch, the very blood of the land rises up to the surface. In its bright yellows, oranges and reds it oozes up through the cracks, steaming from the earth's body heat. And there, crawling from the tainted blood as if a parasitic infection, an angular perversion of all that is natural stretches its oddly-jointed limbs in the open for the first time in millennia. With a gaping yawn, the beast reveals row upon row of perfectly-aligned and deadly sharp fangs. Its eyes glow with the same hue of the fiery lake to which it and its brethren were condemned in a time before written history.
All around, more of these creatures, different in shape but similar in utter contradiction to what had been intended by Him, emerge from the earthblood and flex their tortured joints and muscles. Hell is emptying upon the world, and its inhabitants are ready to exercise their demonic will. Woe be unto the heirs of God's creation on this day of Armageddon.
A light of brightness and purity not seen in two millennia cleaves through the churning blackness above, blinding to those who shun it but enlightening to those who embrace it. The celestial radiance streaks outward in all directions and casts away the troubled sky. The creatures on the ground shrink back in terror, the light burning their otherwise impervious skin.
As the intensity fades, figures can be seen approaching on beams of holy luminance. Astride heavenly steeds of righteousness, the seraphim boldly gallop forth, incarnations of God's perfection of beauty. At their head rides the son of man, His gleaming sword pointing the way, its fateful edge hungry to unleash His wrath upon the wicked.
Arrows of the seraphim, blessed by the very will of God, precede them to the ground, each perfectly aimed to vanquish one of Satan's minions. Lightning infused with His fury erupts from His sword and lays low many a demon. Evil scrambles to be out of the Lord's sight, but there is no place to hide from Him that is called I AM. The devil's soldiers are sent one by one to the only place worse than that from whence they came, their wickedness stripped away. For how can one be wicked when one can no longer be at all?
Almost as quickly as they appeared, the interlopers are gone, dispelled by the power of Him. Up from the lifeless ground springs miraculous greenery, nourished by the light of the Lord. Here they will stand, these cousins of the garden, as guardians over this land, keeping Hell locked in the fire until God Himself decides that the end of time has come. Once again, unbeknownst to His mortal children, premature apocalypse has been turned aside.
*****
Since the beginning of recorded history, and we assume before it as well, humans have been fascinated by the battle between good and evil. It's an ongoing struggle that has raged for millennia and will continue until the end of time. There are some who believe this battle is as concrete and unambiguous as the one described above, but in reality, the various complexities of the good-evil dynamic are tough to pin down. If we want to better understand these standards to which we hold ourselves, we need to figure out where they came from and what their purpose is.
The Christian bible tells us that knowledge of good and evil was imparted to humanity when Eve disobeyed God and ate from the tree that He forbade. She shared this fruit with Adam, hence condemning all future generations of humans to suffer the wages of sin. The story of Adam and Eve, while fascinating mythology, simply cannot be a literal accounting of history. Several obvious logistical problems contraindicate its veracity. Many of these problems are presented elsewhere, so they will not be included here.
So, if we accept that the story of Adam and Eve is mythology, where did the concepts of good and evil come from? Cultures all over the world, some without any exposure to the biblical origins of sin, have a general agreement with each other on what constitutes a good or evil act. Clearly, there is something deep within the human psyche, perhaps something instinctual, that separates these two concepts for us.
Recent research has revealed that humans (and, interestingly enough, macaque monkeys) have an area of the brain that appears to be dedicated to empathy. Specifically localized brain activity suggests that when we see others of our species in pain or pleasure, we simulate the event in our minds, placing ourselves in the situation. This simulation causes a chain reaction that results in sympathetic emotions, as if we were experiencing the event ourselves. People shown images of one of their own in distress ended up having brain activity similar to what would occur if they were in distress as well, likewise for images of happiness and pleasure.
Either way, empathy is certainly a crucial element in our understanding of good and evil. It evokes a "treat others as you would like to be treated" philosophy. Indeed, much of what is considered evil involves bringing harm to others. Murder, thievery and adultery, all fairly prominent in their persistence as acts that are considered sinful, are certainly events that bring people distress. Being instinctually empathetic creatures, we wish to avoid inflicting this distress on others because we are able to manufacture within ourselves the resultant emotions, and we don't like them.
It seems strange that nature would imbue us with something as complex as empathy. After a bit of thought, though, it should become clear why such a trait would be beneficial. Humans typically live in communities. We interact with each other on a regular basis and, for the most part, depend upon each other for survival. Even though one of us is capable of surviving alone, it is obvious by simple observation that we are communal creatures by nature.
Being communal creatures, our chances of mutual survival are maximized when we are able to cooperate with optimal efficiency. Certainly, it is a lot easier to coordinate between individuals who are capable of understanding to some degree the emotional mindset of others. A community is easier to keep together when members generally forgo violent competition with one another because they not only want to avoid distress to themselves, but also to avoid feeling the distress of others. These are just a couple of the reasons why empathy is an advantageous adaptation.
Empathy, however, cannot be the whole picture. Not everyone seems to have the ability to interpret empathy accurately. The most extreme example is seen in individuals with autism. The study mentioned above showed that the same brain activity was not observed in autistic subjects. This may be one of the reasons autistic individuals don't seem to be able to foresee the consequences of their actions. The part of their brains that simulates circumstances to their end results doesn't function properly.
Still, even some without autism seem able to remorselessly commit acts that defy the idea of empathy. There are many factors aside from empathy that dictate people's actions. Given this fact, what is it that prevents us from overriding our empathic judgment? Is there another major influence that determines how we interpret good acts versus evil acts?
Self preservation is a good candidate for this secondary influence. As communal beings, it is in our interest to protect those in our community, if for no other reason than so that they return the favor. This common interest brings about the formation of values and morals, an agreed upon code that protects the health and well being of the community as a whole. Any violation of this code usually carries some undesirable consequence for the offender.
Really, empathy and self preservation provoke one another. It is the general empathic concurrence of a society that determines what the code of morals will be and what the consequences are for violators, and it is the selfish interest of personal safety and well being that ensures that we listen to our empathic voice, even if immediate circumstances are inspiring us otherwise. A sense of self preservation indicates at least a basic ability to understand when our safety is threatened by a potentially dangerous situation. A sense of empathy indicates the same understanding about the safety of other individuals.
In conclusion, the difference between basic good and evil is not only perceptual, but it is also fundamentally based on a selfish desire to remain content and safe. Empathy causes us to be in distress when we witness others in distress. It is a mechanism without which we would not have a moral code for society. We would only have our sense of self preservation to guide us, meaning we could watch others suffering without emotion as long as our own safety was ensured. Even with empathy, we shun evil acts only to protect our physical, emotional and mental well being, while we engage in good acts to promote the same. Regardless, its side effects work out for the benefit of the entire community, which helps make us a very successful species, meaning that the concepts of good and evil are likely to be around for a very long time.
Soon, the sky's thick shroud obscures the corpse of the land from sight. The intermittent flashes of lightening reveal glimpses of the macabre features below. Jagged formations of red stone jut from the uneven ground, and here and there great gashes in the earth open to depths unseeable. The wounded desert floor ripples and heaves as the spidering veins of electric light in the sky inspire the shadows to take up a lively, if stilted, dance.
Slowly, as the ancient wounds stretch, the very blood of the land rises up to the surface. In its bright yellows, oranges and reds it oozes up through the cracks, steaming from the earth's body heat. And there, crawling from the tainted blood as if a parasitic infection, an angular perversion of all that is natural stretches its oddly-jointed limbs in the open for the first time in millennia. With a gaping yawn, the beast reveals row upon row of perfectly-aligned and deadly sharp fangs. Its eyes glow with the same hue of the fiery lake to which it and its brethren were condemned in a time before written history.
All around, more of these creatures, different in shape but similar in utter contradiction to what had been intended by Him, emerge from the earthblood and flex their tortured joints and muscles. Hell is emptying upon the world, and its inhabitants are ready to exercise their demonic will. Woe be unto the heirs of God's creation on this day of Armageddon.
A light of brightness and purity not seen in two millennia cleaves through the churning blackness above, blinding to those who shun it but enlightening to those who embrace it. The celestial radiance streaks outward in all directions and casts away the troubled sky. The creatures on the ground shrink back in terror, the light burning their otherwise impervious skin.
As the intensity fades, figures can be seen approaching on beams of holy luminance. Astride heavenly steeds of righteousness, the seraphim boldly gallop forth, incarnations of God's perfection of beauty. At their head rides the son of man, His gleaming sword pointing the way, its fateful edge hungry to unleash His wrath upon the wicked.
Arrows of the seraphim, blessed by the very will of God, precede them to the ground, each perfectly aimed to vanquish one of Satan's minions. Lightning infused with His fury erupts from His sword and lays low many a demon. Evil scrambles to be out of the Lord's sight, but there is no place to hide from Him that is called I AM. The devil's soldiers are sent one by one to the only place worse than that from whence they came, their wickedness stripped away. For how can one be wicked when one can no longer be at all?
Almost as quickly as they appeared, the interlopers are gone, dispelled by the power of Him. Up from the lifeless ground springs miraculous greenery, nourished by the light of the Lord. Here they will stand, these cousins of the garden, as guardians over this land, keeping Hell locked in the fire until God Himself decides that the end of time has come. Once again, unbeknownst to His mortal children, premature apocalypse has been turned aside.
Since the beginning of recorded history, and we assume before it as well, humans have been fascinated by the battle between good and evil. It's an ongoing struggle that has raged for millennia and will continue until the end of time. There are some who believe this battle is as concrete and unambiguous as the one described above, but in reality, the various complexities of the good-evil dynamic are tough to pin down. If we want to better understand these standards to which we hold ourselves, we need to figure out where they came from and what their purpose is.
The Christian bible tells us that knowledge of good and evil was imparted to humanity when Eve disobeyed God and ate from the tree that He forbade. She shared this fruit with Adam, hence condemning all future generations of humans to suffer the wages of sin. The story of Adam and Eve, while fascinating mythology, simply cannot be a literal accounting of history. Several obvious logistical problems contraindicate its veracity. Many of these problems are presented elsewhere, so they will not be included here.
So, if we accept that the story of Adam and Eve is mythology, where did the concepts of good and evil come from? Cultures all over the world, some without any exposure to the biblical origins of sin, have a general agreement with each other on what constitutes a good or evil act. Clearly, there is something deep within the human psyche, perhaps something instinctual, that separates these two concepts for us.
Recent research has revealed that humans (and, interestingly enough, macaque monkeys) have an area of the brain that appears to be dedicated to empathy. Specifically localized brain activity suggests that when we see others of our species in pain or pleasure, we simulate the event in our minds, placing ourselves in the situation. This simulation causes a chain reaction that results in sympathetic emotions, as if we were experiencing the event ourselves. People shown images of one of their own in distress ended up having brain activity similar to what would occur if they were in distress as well, likewise for images of happiness and pleasure.
Either way, empathy is certainly a crucial element in our understanding of good and evil. It evokes a "treat others as you would like to be treated" philosophy. Indeed, much of what is considered evil involves bringing harm to others. Murder, thievery and adultery, all fairly prominent in their persistence as acts that are considered sinful, are certainly events that bring people distress. Being instinctually empathetic creatures, we wish to avoid inflicting this distress on others because we are able to manufacture within ourselves the resultant emotions, and we don't like them.
It seems strange that nature would imbue us with something as complex as empathy. After a bit of thought, though, it should become clear why such a trait would be beneficial. Humans typically live in communities. We interact with each other on a regular basis and, for the most part, depend upon each other for survival. Even though one of us is capable of surviving alone, it is obvious by simple observation that we are communal creatures by nature.
Being communal creatures, our chances of mutual survival are maximized when we are able to cooperate with optimal efficiency. Certainly, it is a lot easier to coordinate between individuals who are capable of understanding to some degree the emotional mindset of others. A community is easier to keep together when members generally forgo violent competition with one another because they not only want to avoid distress to themselves, but also to avoid feeling the distress of others. These are just a couple of the reasons why empathy is an advantageous adaptation.
Empathy, however, cannot be the whole picture. Not everyone seems to have the ability to interpret empathy accurately. The most extreme example is seen in individuals with autism. The study mentioned above showed that the same brain activity was not observed in autistic subjects. This may be one of the reasons autistic individuals don't seem to be able to foresee the consequences of their actions. The part of their brains that simulates circumstances to their end results doesn't function properly.
Still, even some without autism seem able to remorselessly commit acts that defy the idea of empathy. There are many factors aside from empathy that dictate people's actions. Given this fact, what is it that prevents us from overriding our empathic judgment? Is there another major influence that determines how we interpret good acts versus evil acts?
Self preservation is a good candidate for this secondary influence. As communal beings, it is in our interest to protect those in our community, if for no other reason than so that they return the favor. This common interest brings about the formation of values and morals, an agreed upon code that protects the health and well being of the community as a whole. Any violation of this code usually carries some undesirable consequence for the offender.
Really, empathy and self preservation provoke one another. It is the general empathic concurrence of a society that determines what the code of morals will be and what the consequences are for violators, and it is the selfish interest of personal safety and well being that ensures that we listen to our empathic voice, even if immediate circumstances are inspiring us otherwise. A sense of self preservation indicates at least a basic ability to understand when our safety is threatened by a potentially dangerous situation. A sense of empathy indicates the same understanding about the safety of other individuals.
In conclusion, the difference between basic good and evil is not only perceptual, but it is also fundamentally based on a selfish desire to remain content and safe. Empathy causes us to be in distress when we witness others in distress. It is a mechanism without which we would not have a moral code for society. We would only have our sense of self preservation to guide us, meaning we could watch others suffering without emotion as long as our own safety was ensured. Even with empathy, we shun evil acts only to protect our physical, emotional and mental well being, while we engage in good acts to promote the same. Regardless, its side effects work out for the benefit of the entire community, which helps make us a very successful species, meaning that the concepts of good and evil are likely to be around for a very long time.
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