in response to existentialism: possibility vs. laws of nature
I just saw a show on a public access channel about existentialism, mainly about Jean-Paul Sartre. And I thought the following distinction might be a good starting point to illustrate my recent thoughts on philosophy, science, etc.: the universe as a realm of pure possibility (for instance, as described in Sartre's book Nausea), vs. the universe as strictly regulated by the laws of nature discovered by the scientific method. A general trend I've noticed is that people who do not, or refuse to try to, understand the scientific method protest against it by asserting that scientific laws are merely our superfluous "constructions" on top of what is in fact a wholly irrational world in which anything is possible. On the other hand, I've seen countless science nerds who seem to believe completely in all the "facts of nature" discovered by scientists, and who seem to regard the physical world as the ultimate nerd puzzle destined to be figured out in the end by the nerdiest of them all.
Either extreme is pretty silly, I think, and not taken seriously by any author I'd want to read. What's wrong with these views? The first says that anything is possible. But then why is the world so regular? Why don't unicorns pop out of pumpkins and offer me front row tickets to the Met, but only if I swear up and down that I detest marshmallows? Surely this seems possible; but I doubt it will happen. That's not to say it certainly won't happen, but for all intents and purposes, it's not going to happen. And actually, this bothers me, as someone who sympathizes with the "anything is possible" extreme. I actually would like for it to happen. But I think that's because my imagination tends to run amuck, so that the "ordinary world" before me seems so drab in comparison to the fantastic images in my mind. I'm watching two versions of reality: the one my senses perceive over which I have no control, and the one I imagine in my mind over which I have some sense of authority. So, it makes sense that I would naturally tend to prefer the world in which I'm a god. But the world of my perceptions, I believe, enjoys a bit more "reality" than my imagination. And nowadays I seem to defer to that real-er world, rather than to my imagination. (Though now that I think about it, maybe I should give my imagination more credit sometimes.)
Regardless, the point is that a blind belief that "anything is possible" is just that: blind belief. Certainly a person with a hyperactive mind can imagine a seemingly infinite array of fantastic occurrences, but so what? That says nothing about the world itself, only about your imagination. At this point, one of these blind believers may say to me, "You're already mistaken if you're willing to talk about 'the world itself' as if it were some fixed, definite thing!" And that leads me to the error with the second view, the blind belief in the "laws of science," against which folly I think the first blind belief is a foolish protest.
Blind believer #1 says anything is possible; blind believer #2 says no, only what is allowed by the laws of nature is possible. I think both views are confused. What I myself believe in, after having soaked up the world for a few years, is that we have our senses, and we have our minds. Our senses give us raw data, and our minds give us models with which to interpret that data. Our minds also give us ideas about how to create tools to acquire data we wouldn't otherwise be privy to; I'm referring to inventions like telescopes, microscopes, particle accelerators, etc. With mathematics we can make our models streamlined, precise, and quantifiable. With our senses and tools we can test the predictions of our models, repeatedly, at different times and places. Certain of our models turn out of be false. But some of them seem to be true, again and again, when tested by many different people, and so earn the rank of a "law of nature." So what? Does that mean we've figured out some 100%, definite, irrevocable fact? Maybe, but who knows? What we have done is observe the same phenomenon over and over again, and so we come to believe it's reasonable to expect the same thing to occur in the future. Calling such a pattern a "law of nature" is like calling a newborn baby a "miracle of nature." Giving birth to a child is something most people want to celebrate, and it's often a harrowing experience. Well, coming up with these "laws of nature" can be similarly harrowing and difficult; it usually takes years of hard work by many different people all over the world. So it's reasonable for us to celebrate when we've discovered something fundamental like the "law" of gravity. It might not be quite right, and in fact Newton's "law" wasn't. But, just like with having a child, after all that time and effort you want to give the fruit of your labor a respectable label. So what the hell, let's call it a bona fide law of nature; it certainly sounds better than a "thing we notice repeatedly" of nature.
So, what's wrong with believer #1 is that this person overestimates undisciplined imagination and underestimates the discipline (and joy) of science. And what's wrong with believer #2 is the reverse: overestimation of science and underestimation of imagination, of the "mysteriousness" of it all, or of some general amorphous sense of "possibility." This line of thinking is what I have in mind when I read Einstein's quote: "The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science." People who blindly trust what has come before will never create anything or appreciate this "mystery," because for them the world is indeed a fixed system, devoid of possibilities. And I think blind believers come in many varieties, two of which I've discussed here.
Finally, "absurdity." it's usually the #1 type who gets to thinking of life as "absurd." Clearly, Sartre thought that way. (If I speak with too much authority, it's because it's tiresome to keep saying "I think" or "maybe" or "perhaps.") But what would make a person think that life is absurd? (I sympathize with what I imagine to be the source of the sentiment; I'm just questioning the use of the word "absurd.") Usually the explanation I hear is: "Well, why should things be the way they are, and not some other way? Why am I alive here and now rather than at some other place or in some other time? Most importantly, why should anything exist at all?" For lack of answers to these questions, apparently, life starts to seem "absurd." For lack of a rational explanation for the very existence of anything whatsoever, all things become absurd nuggets of nothingness, including our bodies and our "selves."
As opposed to absurdity, I would not argue that life indeed "makes sense." I merely question the utility of calling existence "absurd," because the implicit, complete argument is: "We cannot rationally account for our existence or simple existence itself; therefore, existence is absurd." So, my complaint really is that the word "absurd" adds nothing to the premise; it's just a label for the premise. The simple statement is: we cannot fully explain anything. That's it. Saying anything else is superfluous, or "poetic." (And I have no problem with poetry or literature or rhetoric; but if you're going to be poetic, then write a poem, and spare us your self-important, hyper-serious philosophies.)
"Absurd" feels like a value judgment, as do a lot of Sartre's terms: "anxiety," "anguish," "nausea," etc. These aren't universal terms; these are labels for particular states of being experienced at some particular times by one particular intellectual in France who's currently dead. The problem with his "system" is that it's so peculiar to him, which of course is the problem with a lot of "philosophical systems" or even anti-systems, like Nietzsche's. For once you depart from the impersonality of empiricism and science, you enter the world of personal idiosyncrasies and particular, individual responses. Never mind the fact that only a minority of people even ask these "big questions" in the first place; and of those, not all are unsettled by the lack of definite answers. Many people seem quite satisfied with the partial, impersonal descriptions of science. What bothers me is when some of those who are unsettled, like Sartre, try to give universality to their own particular emotional responses, by coming up with terms like "nausea" and "l'absurde." Now, given my own personal responses, I happen to feel at home with those kinds of terms, but I can't respect how he tries to pass them off as general "human" sentiments, or expressions of "the human condition." I imagine many people would endorse some of his ideas; but I also think many other people would find them foreign or bizarre. What's truly general is impersonal, scientific description, which, unfortunately, doesn't help someone like me feel any more at ease with existence. Still, science seems to help a lot of people, and besides, most really don't give a damn about any of this either way. Hence, politics.
Oh yeah, and then there's religion. But I'd rather avoid that altogether, for now.
Either extreme is pretty silly, I think, and not taken seriously by any author I'd want to read. What's wrong with these views? The first says that anything is possible. But then why is the world so regular? Why don't unicorns pop out of pumpkins and offer me front row tickets to the Met, but only if I swear up and down that I detest marshmallows? Surely this seems possible; but I doubt it will happen. That's not to say it certainly won't happen, but for all intents and purposes, it's not going to happen. And actually, this bothers me, as someone who sympathizes with the "anything is possible" extreme. I actually would like for it to happen. But I think that's because my imagination tends to run amuck, so that the "ordinary world" before me seems so drab in comparison to the fantastic images in my mind. I'm watching two versions of reality: the one my senses perceive over which I have no control, and the one I imagine in my mind over which I have some sense of authority. So, it makes sense that I would naturally tend to prefer the world in which I'm a god. But the world of my perceptions, I believe, enjoys a bit more "reality" than my imagination. And nowadays I seem to defer to that real-er world, rather than to my imagination. (Though now that I think about it, maybe I should give my imagination more credit sometimes.)
Regardless, the point is that a blind belief that "anything is possible" is just that: blind belief. Certainly a person with a hyperactive mind can imagine a seemingly infinite array of fantastic occurrences, but so what? That says nothing about the world itself, only about your imagination. At this point, one of these blind believers may say to me, "You're already mistaken if you're willing to talk about 'the world itself' as if it were some fixed, definite thing!" And that leads me to the error with the second view, the blind belief in the "laws of science," against which folly I think the first blind belief is a foolish protest.
Blind believer #1 says anything is possible; blind believer #2 says no, only what is allowed by the laws of nature is possible. I think both views are confused. What I myself believe in, after having soaked up the world for a few years, is that we have our senses, and we have our minds. Our senses give us raw data, and our minds give us models with which to interpret that data. Our minds also give us ideas about how to create tools to acquire data we wouldn't otherwise be privy to; I'm referring to inventions like telescopes, microscopes, particle accelerators, etc. With mathematics we can make our models streamlined, precise, and quantifiable. With our senses and tools we can test the predictions of our models, repeatedly, at different times and places. Certain of our models turn out of be false. But some of them seem to be true, again and again, when tested by many different people, and so earn the rank of a "law of nature." So what? Does that mean we've figured out some 100%, definite, irrevocable fact? Maybe, but who knows? What we have done is observe the same phenomenon over and over again, and so we come to believe it's reasonable to expect the same thing to occur in the future. Calling such a pattern a "law of nature" is like calling a newborn baby a "miracle of nature." Giving birth to a child is something most people want to celebrate, and it's often a harrowing experience. Well, coming up with these "laws of nature" can be similarly harrowing and difficult; it usually takes years of hard work by many different people all over the world. So it's reasonable for us to celebrate when we've discovered something fundamental like the "law" of gravity. It might not be quite right, and in fact Newton's "law" wasn't. But, just like with having a child, after all that time and effort you want to give the fruit of your labor a respectable label. So what the hell, let's call it a bona fide law of nature; it certainly sounds better than a "thing we notice repeatedly" of nature.
So, what's wrong with believer #1 is that this person overestimates undisciplined imagination and underestimates the discipline (and joy) of science. And what's wrong with believer #2 is the reverse: overestimation of science and underestimation of imagination, of the "mysteriousness" of it all, or of some general amorphous sense of "possibility." This line of thinking is what I have in mind when I read Einstein's quote: "The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science." People who blindly trust what has come before will never create anything or appreciate this "mystery," because for them the world is indeed a fixed system, devoid of possibilities. And I think blind believers come in many varieties, two of which I've discussed here.
Finally, "absurdity." it's usually the #1 type who gets to thinking of life as "absurd." Clearly, Sartre thought that way. (If I speak with too much authority, it's because it's tiresome to keep saying "I think" or "maybe" or "perhaps.") But what would make a person think that life is absurd? (I sympathize with what I imagine to be the source of the sentiment; I'm just questioning the use of the word "absurd.") Usually the explanation I hear is: "Well, why should things be the way they are, and not some other way? Why am I alive here and now rather than at some other place or in some other time? Most importantly, why should anything exist at all?" For lack of answers to these questions, apparently, life starts to seem "absurd." For lack of a rational explanation for the very existence of anything whatsoever, all things become absurd nuggets of nothingness, including our bodies and our "selves."
As opposed to absurdity, I would not argue that life indeed "makes sense." I merely question the utility of calling existence "absurd," because the implicit, complete argument is: "We cannot rationally account for our existence or simple existence itself; therefore, existence is absurd." So, my complaint really is that the word "absurd" adds nothing to the premise; it's just a label for the premise. The simple statement is: we cannot fully explain anything. That's it. Saying anything else is superfluous, or "poetic." (And I have no problem with poetry or literature or rhetoric; but if you're going to be poetic, then write a poem, and spare us your self-important, hyper-serious philosophies.)
"Absurd" feels like a value judgment, as do a lot of Sartre's terms: "anxiety," "anguish," "nausea," etc. These aren't universal terms; these are labels for particular states of being experienced at some particular times by one particular intellectual in France who's currently dead. The problem with his "system" is that it's so peculiar to him, which of course is the problem with a lot of "philosophical systems" or even anti-systems, like Nietzsche's. For once you depart from the impersonality of empiricism and science, you enter the world of personal idiosyncrasies and particular, individual responses. Never mind the fact that only a minority of people even ask these "big questions" in the first place; and of those, not all are unsettled by the lack of definite answers. Many people seem quite satisfied with the partial, impersonal descriptions of science. What bothers me is when some of those who are unsettled, like Sartre, try to give universality to their own particular emotional responses, by coming up with terms like "nausea" and "l'absurde." Now, given my own personal responses, I happen to feel at home with those kinds of terms, but I can't respect how he tries to pass them off as general "human" sentiments, or expressions of "the human condition." I imagine many people would endorse some of his ideas; but I also think many other people would find them foreign or bizarre. What's truly general is impersonal, scientific description, which, unfortunately, doesn't help someone like me feel any more at ease with existence. Still, science seems to help a lot of people, and besides, most really don't give a damn about any of this either way. Hence, politics.
Oh yeah, and then there's religion. But I'd rather avoid that altogether, for now.