The 'Meaning' of Life
© Chris Port, 2010

'Meaning' is a misfiring of logic. It is excessively teleological. Meaning is something that happens after a thought, not before it. More biologically, it is an echo after the firing of neurons in Dawkins' 'selfish' genes. It is the conscious mind trying to pretend that it is in control, trying to find a gap for free will. From the first measurable stirrings of a thought or action in the pre-motor cortex, to our 'awareness' of making a decision, there is a strange gap of several seconds. Into this gap fall all our previous certainties. Consciousness is a sudden accident, a freak side-effect of life, in one very small part of the universe, at one very brief moment in galactic time. The universe is spinning a much longer yarn than us. Sub-atomic particles, or strings, or somethings, spinning or vibrating or fluctuating or doing something at the quantum level (dancing on a pinhead, probably ... and waving ... ). The whole human story of history consists merely of genetic data encryption errors in our DNA 'software' (or, more organically, 'wetware'). But, in evolutionary terms, very useful errors. Thinking, including making mistakes about the physical world, can become an improved survival mechanism if those 'lucky' mistakes tend to pay off. One such 'lucky' mistake was God...

God – a 'lucky' mistake?

At some point in the dividing branches of life, our earliest ancestors made some evolutionary leap (or slither). They started to think.This was probably just some arbitrary misfire of neurons, what Wittgenstein might term a 'category error'. The brute axioms of the natural world, lacking all sentience and sentiment, became part of our story and thus took on meanings.


Self-awareness, and its place in the world of 'the other(s)', led to a dividing point in the story of the apes:

animal panic response, the body's needs and reflex actions determining the mind's functions

or the mind making a lucky mistake – a'category error'.

Utility – categorising patterns of behaviour as useful to survival and well-being, led our ancestors to identify use with function. If something was useful then it had its uses. This is simply a tautology, a self-evident reiteration, that became hardwired into the neural networks of one branch of the family tree.

If Use = Function, then Function = Purpose.

And if Function = Purpose, then Purpose =Meaning.

Category errors, but useful. These 'thinking' apes became aware of life and death, theirs and others. Our earliest ancestors instinctively knew what Richard Dawkins has just reminded us of – the utter lack of pity in the natural world. Because these apes (or, at least, their neural synapses and genes) had found a survival advantage in attributing function, purpose and meaning to the world, this freak side-effect of matter and energy we call 'consciousness' began to have its evolutionary disadvantages. What intelligent creature would want to live in such an unintelligent world? Hence religion and art. Illusory, but providing the intelligent mind with a protective filter, a shared feeling, a way of telling meaningful stories about our accidental existence. Without these stories, the selfish gene of human consciousness would become the suicidal gene of human despair – and this is the danger posed by unrestricted 'scientism' (the paradigm that a scientific narrative is the most useful way of explaining the universe that we appear to find ourselves in). Scientism, like religion, just makes another category error.

What category error does Religion make?

Religion is basically one of the earliest branches of philosophy. The earliest tentative step onto the unknown branch of thinking was probably language – mostly body language to begin with. An intelligent creature evolves neural networks that allow it to respond almost immediately to its environment with some sense of available options and a means of discerning between them. The evolutionary advantage of thinking, if only in the basic animal sense of the term, is that an intelligent creature can leap thousands of generations of life and death experiences with a single thought – often a random but useful category error linking previously unconnected neurons. If the connection pays off (in survival and propagation terms) then the data encryption 'error' is passed on, first as a behavioural characteristic, then as a social meme (the 'rulebooks' for successful genes).

The most basic human 'pack' is the family and the evolving human psyches, with all their evolutionary advantages, needed to work out some way of peacefully co-existing with each other to their mutual advantage (although genes, neurons and sub-atomic particles do not have 'needs' – they just do what they do, finding temporal but always unstable balances of power in a universe of incalculable interactions and questionable predictability).

One way of navigating through such increasingly complex interactions with the world is to find a basic underlying pattern. The earliest pattern of human thinking we have to refer to is that of childhood. We do not emerge from the comfort of the womb with the guilt of clothes. We learn to play the rules to our advantage through behavioural rewards and punishments (the dangers of adventurous play), then connections, actions and ideas, imagination and consequences evolve into beliefs.

Beliefs, like the appendix, are previously useful left-overs. The question is whether they are still useful? The science that tries to rewrite those deep human beliefs in an evolutionary heartbeat is taking on ancient powers of comprehension.

The basic social meme of childhood is that there are powers above you. These powers are often fearful (through chastisement) but sometimes comforting (through wisdom). They hopefully know better – and this suggests a universe with a hidden meaning and a life with a hidden purpose. One which may be revealed ... to the devotee.

But, as the bible narrates, the time must come to put away childish things. Each thinking ape, each balance of consciousness, must struggle with the conflicting neural networks of its genetic and experiential inheritance. The category error of religion is that it mistakes human beings as the ultimate expression of purpose and meaning. From a scientific perspective, this is relativistic nonsense. The universe, and our place in it, are capable of mostly consistent explanation within the limits set by the uncertainty principle and the big bang without the 'need' for a god. It is only human beings that 'need' god - and with good reason too.

If 'reality', or, at least, a scientific approximation of it, has no meaning then our evolutionary emergence into consciousness no longer provides any advantage.

If no meaning = no purpose, then we have no function.

And no function = no use.


If nothing humanity does is of any use then what is the use of life? This suicidal despair is clearly not what Dawkins is advocating. What if we were able to transcend this genetic inheritance, making some Kubrickian jump-cut into a higher way of thinking – a greater sense of wonder as the mysteries of the universe yield themselves to science, like the veils of the temple being rent with a scalpel? If we can't agree then let's split the difference.

'If we can't agree then let's split the difference.'

If the pitiless logic of science renders thinking a comfortless activity, despairing even, then those genes, and those neurons, will no longer confer an evolutionary advantage. Thinking, consciousness, self-awareness, will all become 'anti-social' activities. If a practice dies out sociologically, it also dies out genetically (within that society at least). When social memes die out, so do entire genetic populations. This is not a world that I would wish to live in, in both meanings of the phrase. Even if my animal instinct for self-preservation prevailed, it is unlikely that I would be allowed to live for long, anyway. Nigel Kneale got it right. There are dark, Jungian forces at work in us.

The Selfish Gen(r)e

There are basically three ways of thinking about things. They involve time. And time, ultimately, is about Life and Death:

The 'Now'.
The 'Past'.
The 'Future'.

Really, time is just a narrative. A way of structuring life. A way of thinking about it. A way of trying to make sense of it. We remember facts but we understand stories. Language provides the building bricks of meaning, not the meaning itself. A house is made of bricks, but a brick is not a house. It is only when words are combined, in a narrative, one thing linking to another, that we start to have stories, ideas, qualities, feelings, meanings. Facts don't have meanings. They just exist. They have no other purpose. Only stories have meanings. Styles. Values...According to Darwin and Dawkins, Homo sapiens, the 'Naked Apes', are just evolved animals. But are you just an animal? Or are you something else, as well? What does it actually mean to be a human being?

Your life is a pitiless, meaningless, doomed struggle for survival. You will, ultimately, die. The universe came from... nowhere... no time. Time and space were created with the universe. There was no 'before'...Ever... The universe is... probably... just a random accident. It happened because it could. It doesn't need a God. But is that the same as saying that there isn't a God? The real question is what is meant by God.

Just as human consciousness is an 'emergent property' of particles and processes which are, in themselves, insentient, might 'God' be an emergent property of human consciousness? The 'sacred' is an abstract concept, not a physical 'reality'. But so is 'love'. Does love 'exist'? Most people would accept love's existence as an axiom of humanity, even though its substance, nature and meaning (or even 'truth') are subject to much doubt and debate. If we replace the term 'God' (with its connotations of a supernatural creator, omniscient and omnipotent) with 'a sense of the sacred', we may be closer to finding the 'meaning' of life. Meaning is in art and aesthetics, not in unquestioning dogma. Art as entertainment distracts us from reality. Art, as a sense of the divine, brings us closer to it. We need both. Now more than ever. A collaborative, surreal, satirical, tragicomic piece of musical political theatre about a gullible martyr would seem to be a fine way of linking the two. As the Chinese politely curse, "May you live in interesting times..." We do...

I WONDER WHY NOONE HAS REPLIED TO YOUR PAPER? I will tell you why. Because it takes a great mind like yours and mine to come up with and care about such things. My name's nicole at nicole3370047@yahoo.com. I have often went through the same process as you among countless others. Most people don't understand the concept of trying to figure out things because it is depressing and confusing, but we are a rare breed you and I. You would think that others would know what to know about this topic,that knowing it would bring some meaning? I know that it is meaningless to exist if you yourself do not seek out the meaning. We have always lived in a time where people do not seek out answers to questions that should be answered for each person. I don't understand why people don't want to know thier own reason.

Hi, enjoyed reading your post but I am in the weird position of agreeing with your ultimate conclusion, that love, art, expression and all the other ethereal parts of what might be called 'spirituality' (had this word not been corrupted by organised religions over the centuries) is the thing that makes our existance worthwhile, whilst disagreeing with almost every argument you make to get there!

Perhaps it doesn't matter that we have taken very different paths to the same conclusion?

I, too, believe that the energy of love and inspirational expression - either through art or physical actions - can inspire, inflame and raise-up others to a higher plane of consciousness or spiritual growth. I also agree that the generally perceived pre-requisite of a belief in God to think in these terms at all tends to cause difficulties.

Your thoughts come from the standpoint of Speech and Drama and so, naturally, you advocate art as the means to 'humanize' us and the way to raise in us a sense of the divine and give meaning to life.

I do not disagree with that but I would say that the ways of this energy or life-force are many and diverse -
the magic of the birth of a new life, witnessing a truly heroic act by another human being, falling in love, accepting the gratitude of one we have helped, experiencing the unselfish love of a stranger who helps us when we are injured or in danger - all of these are humbling and soul-inspiring experiences.

The sad and bad experiences of every life drain our hope and life-force in exactly the same but opposite way. The worth in these negative experiences is as a counterpoint to the good. (we could never measure heat if we knew nothing of cold.)

All this is why it is so necessary to endeavour to live a 'good' life. Always setting up the probability of positive life-force feedback. Then, hopefully, we keep a healthy credit account of life energy.

I'll pack it in now. If you'd like to hear a bit about my arguments for my conclusions you'll have to let me know!

Hi Nicole. Thank you for responding to my thoughts. Sorry for delay in my response. Juggling with epistemologies and different perspectives in lots of different forums. Thinking about what you’ve said. Comparing with what I think and what other people are saying. I’ll post a detailed reply soon when I’ve worked out what I think now. Thanks again :)

Hi Sponge. Thank you for responding to my thoughts. Sorry for delay in my response. Juggling with epistemologies and different perspectives in lots of different forums. Thinking about what you’ve said. Comparing with what I think and what other people are saying. I’ll post a detailed reply soon when I’ve worked out what I think now. Thanks again :)

Hi Chris,
You wanted a critique of Marty’s piece of dialogue and it works well for me. I like the fact that it is meaningful on several levels as all good parables should be. The mundane ‘good story’ of the bloke making a fool of himself at the pub, the emotional slant of a man so stressed and lost that he is existing in isolation and no longer connecting with the life around him and, on a higher level, the spiritual experience of a man for whom life suddenly becomes real and he sees his own beginning and end – and then back to the mundane as he realises that he is still at the pub and feels embarrassed at his own emotions.

You also asked me to define ‘good’ which is a bit like me asking you to define ‘morality.’ We all accept a general concept of these terms as a working theory but, on a deeper level, these terms have no meaning at all except as a personal scale that each individual works to, where all life experience is gauged along an emotional scale of what ‘feels’ right and what ‘feels’ wrong.

Picking up on the general theme of the last part of your post, I would not defend the ability of science – and even less politics – to put forward systems of morality or even isolated moral judgements. Science is based on reason and experience at best (and politics often less than that!) and reason and experience are both dependent on intelligence, life-style, background, character and personality.

You tend to champion Art as a better basis for promoting morality and I would say that art, at least, has the advantage of springing from original emotion (as does love, empathy etc.) and, as such, has the merit of carrying an innate power to connect and resonate on a meaningful level with other minds.

But, ultimately, I don’t think morality can be taught at all – or even copied from others who lead extremely moral lives. It can be demonstrated. It can be admired in others, but not taught.

Well-meaning societies aim to teach their people to live in a non-harming, community-supporting way and to be mindful of the needs of others. Sometimes, if this teaching (by parents, teachers and others) is carried out well, the student may – through their own understanding – transmute that teaching into a moral code of their own. But this understanding and translation of the ideas of others into a personal conviction depends on the student himself. It is absolutely subjective and personal. Most students, even with good intent, simply take on the ideas of others which they try to emulate. This tends to lead to generally calm and stable societies while things go well but, built on such insubstantial foundations, these ‘morals’ soon crumble and fall in the face of strong opposition, anger, hardship or fear. So, perhaps, these are simply systems of behaviour control (absolutely necessary and no bad thing if we are to live in big communities peacefully) but not systems that change a man’s intuitive way of thinking.

This sort of ‘morality’ teaching has been the way of most religions over the past many centuries. They have used fear and promises, magic and coercion but, in the end, only true understanding and personal ‘knowing’ can ever truly work to change the life and outlook of the individual to the extent that it becomes an integral part of his being. And once formed the truth of this knowing cannot be altered or shaken by any physical or reasoning force (anymore than you could change a man’s inner certainty that this physical life begins with birth and ends with death.)

If you’ve managed to stick with me (and not fallen asleep or died of boredom) I’d just like to make a totally unrelated point for your consideration.
If Marty is concerned with all these metaphysical questions and is also worried about the well-being of the girl it seems (to me) that he is not a sufficiently introverted character to be driven to suicide. Maybe a more likely outcome to all these impossible pressures would be madness?
Let me know what you think.

The ‘God’ Measurement. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? I think we’re both talking about the same thing…”
© Chris Port, May 2011

http://martygull.blogspot.com/2011/05/chris-port-blog-259-god-measurement-it.html

I am philosophical about life. Philosophy is all about the questioning, challenging and undermining of dogmas.

Since all religions are dogmas, ergo I am areligious (or apatheist as I once joked - one who is apathetic about God). However, this is not the same as being anti-religious (since this would, in itself, be a dogmatic position).

The mono-veracious claims of competing religions (while self-evidently fallacious) do not make their central conceit (the supernatural) disappear. Religions are like the blind men groping an elephant. They may squabble over their parochial descriptions, but this is not the same as saying that there is no elephant in the room.

“He maintained, for example, at one time that all existential propositions are meaningless. This was in a lecture room, and I invited him to consider the proposition: 'There is no hippopotamus in this room at present.' When he refused to believe this, I looked under all the desks without finding one; but he remained unconvinced.” (Bertrand Russell on Ludwig Wittgenstein)

The 'elephant in the room' analogy is further complicated by the fact that ‘God’ (whatever that may be) is usually apprehended not as a physical object but as a metaphysical concept.

The supernatural has no place in science because science is properly concerned with the study of natural phenomena. The battle between science and religion has intensified over the centuries as science has found convincing natural explanations for phenomena which were previously thought to be inexplicable and thus relegated to the unknowable supernatural.

It is quite in order for scientists (positivists) to discount the concept of God from their dogma. Positivism is (tautologously) a dogma since it is only concerned with ‘that which can be measured’. It refuses (quite rightly) to become sidetracked by semantics. The concept of ‘God’ (whether you believe in a deity or not) is, by general consensus, supernatural and unknowable, and thus cannot be measured.

Let’s borrow from perturbation theory and find an approximate solution to the ‘God’ measurement by doing a simpler calculation.

Sensible scientists would not dispute the ‘existence’ of unmeasurable concepts such as ‘love’. They would merely regard such a concept as outside of their field of study and best left to other disciplines (such as the arts).

‘Love’ is a semantic interpretation of various physical phenomena (e.g. hormones). While it would be absurd to distil ‘love’ into a test tube, it is quite in order for scientists to measure hormones and their interaction with the physiology. The biochemical mechanisms of ‘love’ fall well within science’s remit here. Psychological and sociological measurements are also perfectly in order. Data analysis of behavioural patterns could provide useful insights. Such insights could be used to predict, identify and alleviate some of the darker passions unleashed by ‘love’ (e.g. jealousy and melancholy).

However, with such a uniquely human phenomenon as ‘love’, no sensible scientist would claim that the data is the feeling. The ecstasy and the agony (and the literature) of love are, from a scientific perspective, just further data for analysis.

So, scientifically, does ‘love’ exist? No. Only the data exists. ‘Love’ is just a story told by human beings to comprehend and express an emergent feeling.

Ditto God. God is a feeling rather than an object or analogous data. It is quite possible for scientists to explain away ‘God’ in the same way that they can explain away ‘love’. But so what? ‘Love’ is an emergent feeling arising from insentient particles and processes interacting within the organism. Analogously, ‘God’ is an emergent feeling arising from natural particles and processes interacting between the organism and the rest of the universe.

‘God’ is everywhere. In much the same way that James Lovelock’s Gaia Theory proposed that the Earth’s biosystem behaves in a way that is analogous to a single organism, I would just extend this analogy to the whole universe. ‘God’ is not the creator of the universe, or outside of it; ‘God’ is the universe.

So, scientifically, does ‘God’ exist? No. Since scientists have no particular organism to study, they have no particular data to analyse here. The ‘measurement’ of God would be as impossible and pointless as the measurement of the entire universe. This is clearly not the same as claiming that the universe does not exist. We are discussing semantics, not data here. Like ‘love’, ‘God’ is a story told by human beings to comprehend and express an emergent feeling.

It is a common misconception amongst atheists that ‘God’ does not exist (or God’s existence is overwhelmingly implausible) because there is no physical evidence to suggest otherwise. The religious rebuff that there is no physical evidence for God’s non-existence is rightly laughed out of court by the positivists. They are quite right to put the burden of proof on the theists, and I leave them to fight their own battles.

For myself, I would say this. When religionists point at various doctrinal texts and babble on about ‘God’ I literally have no idea what they are talking about. I regard some religious texts to be interesting for a variety of reasons (mainly historical and aesthetic). Some contain wisdom and compassion, art and beauty. Some are merely irrational, intolerant gibberish. The only ‘evidence’ in religious texts is evidence of the human imagination.

So is there a ‘God’ anywhere else?

Sometimes, like other human beings, I allow myself a moment of awe and gaze at the stars. Sometimes I read a wondrous poem, listen to a wondrous song, ‘see’ a wondrous idea. At these moments, I briefly experience an ‘epiphany’ - the joy of being alive, sensing and thinking.

To elucidate these sensations in scientific terms would not communicate the feeling as I experienced it, and wish others to comprehend it. So I just label it instead. I give it a word: ‘God’. A devout atheist would probably frown and choose other words. But so what? I would probably just grin and say: “It doesn’t really matter, does it? I think we’re both talking about the same thing…”

Mitchell and Webb in "Big Talk". "Does God Exist?"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EUbjpwyesk0

Atheist finds proof that God doesn't exist in a water melon...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QXdP6S1Qsmk&feature=related

The Incomprehensibility of Car Mechanics
© Chris Port, 2011

http://martygull.blogspot.com/2011/05/chris-port-blog-265-incomprehensibility.html

I was in a pub last night thinking about incomprehensiblity (as you do). This was nothing to do with alcohol and the eternal mysteries of women. I was thinking about quantum mechanics. Stay with me now. This is only a three-pint epiphany, not a ten-pint skype from God…

I was reviewing a throwaway line in another post (see #264. A Classic Example Of How Empiricists Can Get Themselves Into Trouble... Which came first, maths or the universe?)

“The uncertainty principle, and the strange interference of measurement and even consciousness on quantum level 'events'/probability waveforms, are still profoundly incomprehensible to us.”

I was troubled by what I had actually meant by “incomprehensible”, and whether this was technically correct. Let’s shove quantum mechanics to one side for a moment and consider a car instead.

I don’t know much about car mechanics either, but I think it’s safe to say that I ‘comprehend’ what a car is. It’s a travel machine. I know roughly how it works. We extract a fossil fuel called oil (ancient mushed up plants and animals) from underground. We clean it up into petrol and put this into the machine. The engine burns the fuel to provide locomotive energy. An ingenious system of pistons and cranks uses this energy to turn the wheels. I don’t need to have a detailed knowledge of the intricacies of the internal combustion engine to comprehend a car.

Let’s return to quantum mechanics.

“Heisenberg was dismissive of attempts to understand what was ‘physically’ going on. As far as he was concerned, all that could be claimed about quantum mechanics was that the maths worked.”

If we take Heisenberg’s assertion at face value, then all we can ‘comprehend’ about quantum mechanics is the mathematics. In this instance, the mathematics is an analogy. The problem with analogies is that they can be misleading.

Let’s return to the car again. I don’t have a problem comprehending a car because it’s part of my everyday experience. But suppose we demonstrated it to a remote isolated tribe with no previous experience of technology.

Since the car has no visible means of propulsion, they would probably be perplexed. Their first attempt to comprehend a moving car might be to assume that it was ‘alive’ or animated by some invisible spirit.

Suppose an engineer tried to explain to them the basic mechanics of the car as mentioned earlier. Since they would have no everyday experience of concepts such as fuel and engines, he would have to use simple analogies by referring to more familiar concepts.

He could try something like this.

“When you eat and drink, that is fuel for your body. Your body turns food into energy. Your heart is like an engine. It pumps this energy around your body in the blood, and you can move. This liquid we call ‘petrol’ is food for the car. The engine is a bit like your heart. These mechanical parts are like your muscles. They turn the wheels and the car then moves.”

This analogy now starts to create a whole new set of problems…

“So, if the car is like our bodies, is it alive? Can it think and feel?”

“No. It has no mind of its own. It’s just a tool. We control where it goes and what it does.”

Now the analogy has moved into an even more perplexing concept: a mindless body… Something that behaves like us but is not like us….

Questions such as “What is the mind?” or “Am I just a car moved by the Gods?” might start to crop up. At this point, the frustrated engineer might start to get a bit irritated.

“Look. It’s just a comparison. Don’t get too hung up on it. All you need to know is… this is roughly how it works. Don’t worry about the mind. That’s got nothing to do with it. It just… works, ok?”

Some members of the tribe might be intrigued by this and want to find out more. They are starting to grasp that the analogy is flawed. They start to ask more questions: about the different engine parts, where the fuel comes from, how the machine ‘digests’ its food.

Other members of the tribe might huddle in frightened groups, speculating about supernatural explanations that are more familiar and comprehensible to them.

Whether the tribe decide to explore the 21st century, or sacrifice the engineer to the Car God, I leave to your imagination.

The underlying point is this: in quantum mechanics, is mathematics ultimately just a pedantic and misleading analogy?

Quantum mechanics accurately models the emergent behaviour of uncertainties in the quantum foam without semantic ambiguity. Advanced mathematicians profoundly comprehend the complex mathematics involved. Physicist pundits translate the maths back into physical analogies at a macroscopic scale to give them conceptual form (e.g. Schrödinger’s Cat, electrons ‘knowing’ where they’re meant to be, etc.)

Obviously, the more analogies we throw into the mix, the more scope for misunderstanding there is. (“Yes, it’s sort of like that. Only it’s nothing like that at all. If it helps to think of it that way, fine. But you really need to understand the maths to get it.”)

This, of course, brings us back full circle to Heisenberg’s interpretation. Quantum mechanics is the maths. It’s not anything else. So, was I wrong? Is quantum mechanics comprehensible (if only to mathematicians)?

The maths is incomprehensible to most laymen, but comprehensible to the initiated. However, the physical processes it notates are still just as profoundly incomprehensible to the advanced mathematician as they are to the casual dilettante.

The reason for this should now be clear. Car mechanics would be profoundly incomprehensible to a pre-technological tribe because it is outside all of their everyday experiences. If we try to explain the basic concepts using familiar references, our analogies just raise more questions than they answer.

If the car was to become part of their everyday experiences, it would become demystified through familiarity. They have comprehension ‘options’. They could leave their remote homeland and live in a technological civilization, or they could decide to allow technology to become part of their everyday existence.

But this familiarization option is not available to even the most brilliant mathematician or physicist. The quantum foam is profoundly imperceptible to us because it can never become part of our everyday experiences. For this reason, I think I was right. No matter how complex a mathematician’s understanding of the maths, he can never comprehend what the maths actually means.

Quantum mechanics is (and always will be) an analogy rather than an ontology. All we can truly understand about it is the analogy, not the ‘reality’. For this reason, it is correct to say that it is profoundly incomprehensible, because analogies will always raise more questions than they answer. Comprehending analogies (and the trouble they can get you in) is the task of philosophy, not maths or physics.

Consider the delightful philosophical paradoxes of the wonderful Richard Feynman…

"If you think you understand quantum mechanics, you don't understand quantum mechanics". ~ Richard Feyman

“To those who do not know mathematics it is difficult to get across a real feeling as to the beauty, the deepest beauty, of nature ... If you want to learn about nature, to appreciate nature, it is necessary to understand the language that she speaks in.” ~ Richard Feynman

“If I could explain it to the average person, I wouldn't have been worth the Nobel Prize.” ~ Richard Feyman

“We can't define anything precisely. If we attempt to, we get into that paralysis of thought that comes to philosophers… one saying to the other: "you don't know what you are talking about!". The second one says: "what do you mean by talking? What do you mean by you? What do you mean by know?" ~ Richard Feyman

“So, ultimately, in order to understand nature it may be necessary to have a deeper understanding of mathematical relationships. But the real reason is that the subject is enjoyable, and although we humans cut nature up in different ways, and we have different courses in different departments, such compartmentalization is really artificial, and we should take our intellectual pleasures where we find them.”

“...the "paradox" is only a conflict between reality and your feeling of what reality "ought to be.” ~ Richard Feyman

Free Will: A Suspension of Disbelief in Our Own Ghost Stories (The Rugby Ball in the Mud, the Ghost in the Machine…)
© Chris Port, June 2011

http://martygull.blogspot.com/2011/06/chris-port-blog-267-free-will.html

I’m not much of a sportsman, but I vividly remember a game of rugby from my schooldays. The ball had landed in no man’s land. I was 15 and didn’t yet smoke. My lungs hadn’t given up the ghost, so I put on an impressive spurt of speed. I instinctively sprinted for the ball. Then I realized (with horror) that I was going to get there first. I only had a second’s head start. In that strange hyperspace of adrenalized thought, the physical world slowed to a Matrix bullet-time.

I thought it through. If I tried to snatch the ball up, I’d fumble it. I’d also be body slammed by a freight train of sweaty flab. There was no referee. In those days, teachers used to sneak off for a fag break and leave us to it. So I risked a rule infringement. I did a passable impersonation of a stumble and hurled myself into the mud. I grabbed the ball and formed a protective crescent around it, like a foetal claymore mine curved towards the enemy. One second later, a ruck formed over me. Everyone tried to hack-kick the ball out. Neat distinctions between ball and face were lost on studded boots. By the time somebody got the bloody thing away from me, I looked like something dug up from the Battle of the Somme.

Looking back, did I have a choice? I could have slowed down. I could have let the other player get there first. However, thinking back, I don’t think I could have done any differently. As I said, I’m not much of a sportsman. I couldn’t have cared less about the ball or the game, but something seemed to have locked in my brain. I was going to get there first because that’s what my body was doing…

I recently had a lengthy conversation about life in general (and mine in particular). Life rarely ends well, but mine seems to have gained a considerable lead in the race towards dissolution. The finishing line is in sight. But, when I glance back, all the other runners seem to be preoccupied with tying up their shoelaces. I’m on my own again, hurling myself into the mud, about to be hacked to bits in another ruck. Why? Because this time that’s what my mind is doing. I seem to have no more say in the matter than that 15 year old boy had in overruling his body. It’s not the ball. It’s the momentum…

Free Will. It’s a killer. Do we have it?

Marty Gull is like a wire rope. Twisting strands give it tensile strength. But Free Will is in every strand. If Free Will pings, then the whole structure collapses…

I don’t think that human beings are deterministic because our actions don’t have clear causes. We are unable to predict the future from the past, only to make probable guesses. But is this just inadequate self-knowledge, or something more intrinsic to the human mind itself?

I posted the following request on the following Facebook pages:

“Can any neuroscientists point me in the direction of a neurophysiological rebuttal of Stearns’ point that ‘ “Voluntary” is a psychological concept and has no certain analogy in the function of the central nervous system.’ (F.R. Stearns, Physiology, Pathophysiology, Psychology, Pathopsychology and Development, Illinois, Charles C. Thomas, 1972, p.9). I’m guessing that ‘voluntary’ is just another ‘emergent property’…”

* * * * * * *

Richard Dawkins' Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=10150199191154302&id=19219619301¬if_t=feed_comment

The Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason and Science (Official) Facebook page
https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=10150265148530155&id=8798180154

Sam Harris Facebook page
https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=10150264863936015&id=22457171014

The Thinking Atheist Facebook page
https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=10150616620720117&id=302201620116

* * * * * * *

Here is a comment thread from Richard Dawkins' Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=10150199191154302&id=19219619301¬if_t=feed_comment

N: Why do you want Stearn's claim rebutted and what are YOUR actual thoughts on any of this?

Me: Hi N... I don't WANT Stearn's claim rebutted. To be honest, I'm rather hoping that Stearns' point still stands and that 'voluntary' is still a neurophysiologically 'fuzzy' concept.

However, it's a quote from 1972. A lot of paradigm shifts have occurred since then, so I'm just trawling for expertise that may be available out there to update my literature review.

I'm updating some of my thinking from my old uni dissertation: Humour in the Holocaust: Does Laughter Relieve Our Suffering or Diminish Our Objections to the Suffering of Others? [See http://martygull.blogspot.com/2011/03/chris-port-blog-146-humour-in-holocaust.html]

If anyone would like to locate my reference to Stearns in context, it's in Chapter 3: ‘The Mind/Body Axis. (Is laughter created by an involuntary body or a voluntary mind?).’ [See http://martygull.blogspot.com/2011/03/chris-port-blog-148-humour-in-holocaust.html]

My underpinning agenda is that the Arts may be a natural referee between Science and 'Faith' as we’re the ultimate ‘philosophy-in-action’. It’s a big claim, but the neo-positivists are making some pretty sweeping statements too ;)

A working definition of neo-positivism...
http://www.encyclopedia.com/doc/1O88-neopositivism.html

N: You think rebutting Stearn's claim would give a working definition to neo-positivism, correct?

Please answer with YOUR thoughts and words rather than with a link, I'm much more interested in anything you might have to say for yourself than a list of websites that you have visited.

Me: I post links to spare inflicting too much wordage here. My thoughts range quite widely :)

Apart from the neo-pos link, the other links are to my own work.

In my original conclusion (free will versus determinism) I adopted a layered ‘interpersonal’ approach adapted from Roger Scruton’s work. In essence, this means deciding which analytical model is 'fit for purpose' depending on what attitudes are 'appropriate' to the human behaviour under consideration (these terms are all qualitative ‘language games’, unlike neo-positivism which adopts a more stringent quantitative approach).

I'm not so much AGAINST neo-positivism as against its occasionally indiscriminate and inappropriate blanket application (particularly in education, and even more particularly in the arts and 'faith' debates, and occasionally even in some scientific debates!).

One factor I’d like to update in my thinking is where the fuzzy line is now shaded in between neurophysiology and psychology/sociology, then translate this analogy into a menu of discursive models which are more ‘fit for purpose’.

Basically, if you’re talking about subject x, from perspectives 1, 2 or 3, here are the common routes, mistakes, confusions, overlaps and options. A sort of ‘language map’ to help people understand where the other person is coming from.

Then it gets a bit more complicated... ;)

See Epistemological Debate Map - Probability, Statistics and Bikinis (a map of my thoughts!)
https://docs.google.com/leaf?id=0B19dnXpLCCwgMWJhYmVmNTQtNzIwNi00ZDFkLWJjODYtYzkyNGI3ZDk2NTc0&sort=name&layout=list&num=50&pli=1

* * * * * * *

From another thread on the same topic. See The Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason and Science (Official) Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/permalink.php?story_fbid=10150265148530155&id=8798180154¬if_t=feed_comment

E: Chris, the most basic concept of “voluntary” in the Central Nervous System is not in the psychological realm, but in its motor part. There are motor neurons from the cerebral cortex all the way down to the spinal cord. Each neuron has its axon, and several axons together form nerves that go to muscles to perform *voluntary actions* -i.e, actions commanded by the cerebral cortex in an individual who is awake and in control of his/her movements. This is described in Neuroanatomy books and in most Neurology books.

Me: Thanks for your suggestion, E…... It sent me off in a useful direction.

In the case of movement, there seems to be a general consensus among neuro-scientific commentators that ‘volition’ is a teleological concept: a neuron ‘decides’ to fire if its synaptic inputs exceed its action potential threshold; it then emits a signal which the brain ‘imagines’ as a voluntary movement; the conscious mind then has a ‘window of opportunity’ (somewhere between 150 to 200 milliseconds) to decide whether to ‘over-ride’ the signal to the muscles or not.

Discounting quantum effects (for the time being) the neuronal trigger mechanism appears to be a deterministic phenomenon and is not ‘voluntary’. The conscious mind’s over-ride mechanism appears to be voluntary - but is also a holistic process, involving the entire brain.

Under this interpretation, it seems difficult to locate the concept of ‘voluntary’ in any particular neurophysiological mechanism. If we need to consider the holistic functioning of the mind/brain interface, this seems to suggest an interface between psychology and neurophysiology depending on the type of phenomenon under investigation.

Movement is, of course, only one type of phenomenon. There are many others. To what extent can a person be said to ‘control’ their abstract thoughts?

I found this interesting article today: Physiology of Free Will by Mark Hallett, MD (2002)
http://bioethics.stanford.edu/conference/hallett.pdf

* * * * * * *

By a fortuitous coincidence, Sam Harris published a blog link on his Facebook page on the theme of Free Will just after my question:

Morality Without “Free Will” [30 May at 20:31]
http://www.samharris.org/blog/item/morality-without-free-will/

I commented as follows:

This is perfect timing for something I've been brooding over for a long time now. Thanks for posting this. I need to have a long careful think about what you say. It's a fascinating and tricky area of the human condition.

Then later:

The curious teleological phenomenon of ‘intentionality’ in the mind/brain interface (with consciousness operating as a kind of ‘dead man’s switch’) seems to be only one subset in a moralistic theory of Free Will.

The ‘emergent property’ of consciousness and the ‘window of opportunity’ available to over-ride neuronal triggers (150 to 200 milliseconds) are fascinating areas of study. But they are tangential to the main debate.

Moral judgments only emerge in situations where there are moral dilemmas. There is only a dilemma if the subject has the capability and authority to compare and contrast different courses of action (or inaction). Any rational resolution of such a dilemma would need to include:

- explicit or implicit coercion (to what extent is the subject compelled by other forces or factors? e.g. “Shoot that man or I’ll shoot you”)

- a prediction of different probable outcomes;

- a prediction of different probable consequences;

- a comparison with whatever moral values happen to prevail in the given culture

We then need to factor in:

- the subject’s moral ‘intelligence’ (a very tricky concept);

- their education and training (how well qualified are they to make moral judgments, and have they been placed in circumstances beyond their capacity?);

- the ‘swamps of practice’ in applying neat rules to messy situations (what would you have done in their circumstances, which may not be the same as your circumstances?);

- any conflicts of interest (e.g. contradictory moral values, unjust or poorly-drafted laws, etc.)

Are there circumstances when, in accordance with one set of moral values, it is morally right to breach another set of moral values? (The answer, by the way, is clearly “Yes, there are”).

If you accept this line of reasoning then the whole moral debate has now shifted from individual intentions to cultural values, from individual output to collective input. This is not equivalent to a child-murderer claiming “It’s all society’s fault”, or a concentration camp guard saying “I was only following orders”. But it is the same as saying that the underlying debate is located in relativism rather than objectivism.

'The conflict, therefore, is not between actions that are free and actions that are caused: our science of human nature applies indifferently to both and denies the reality of the contrast. The conflict is between attitudes that require us to overlook causality and attitudes that require us to attend to it, and to define what we see in terms of it.' (Roger Scruton, Modern Philosophy: A Survey, London, Sinclair-Stevenson, 1994, p.234).

See also: Humour in the Holocaust: Does Laughter Relieve Our Suffering or Diminish Our Objections to the Suffering of Others? Chapter 6: Conclusion. (Free will versus determinism). http://martygull.blogspot.com/2011/03/chris-port-blog-151-humour-in-holocaust.html

* * * * * * *

After some heated response to his original blog, Sam Harris subsequently posted a follow-up blog link on his Facebook page:

Free Will (And Why You Still Don’t Have It) [01 June at 17:08]
http://www.samharris.org/blog/item/free-will-why-you-still-dont-have-it/

I commented as follows:

This is a fascinating area of study. I agree that Free Will is probably an illusion. It seems difficult to isolate an Emperor 'Will' in the brain. At best we seem to have a teleological parliament with the power to retrospectively veto some of the more extreme suggestions from our motor neurons.

Having said all that, is the illusion of Free Will equivalent to Free Will if we cannot observe any difference? Skeptical thinkers have long trusted Descartes’ rational “Cogito ergo sum” (“I think therefore I am”) as a bedrock of certainty in a universe which plays tricks on the senses. Science, however, has shown this certainty to be profoundly wrong.

Consciousness is an ‘emergent property’ of particles and processes which are, in themselves, insentient. Physically, there is no such thing as “I”. That is not to say that “I” do not have physical mass. It is just to say that "I think therefore I am" infers too much. While 'existence' is a prerequisite for thought, identity is not. Who, or what, is "I"? Do new thoughts create new identities? Are you the same person that you were? These are clearly metaphysical questions rather than scientific ones.

Scientifically, it would be more correct to say "A thought, therefore something having it". "I" is a gestalt here rather than a singular entity. In some ways, “I” is an illusion, a biochemical bundle of sensations which combine to produce an effect that is greater than the sum of its parts. The atoms of a living man and the atoms of a dead man are exactly the same. The only difference between the living and the dead is in how the parts work together. There is no ‘ghost in the machine’. There is only the machine. So, all that “I” actually refers to is the processes rather than the object.

The upshot of all this phenomenology is that, in most human experiences, it doesn't really matter. The illusion is reasonably consistent and convincing as we walk around in a kind of reversed Matrix where the physical world is 'real' but we 'aren't', so we just go along with it because that's what our brains have evolved to do. The ultimate pathetic fallacy of consciousness only becomes problematic when put to the test by society's demands for 'accountability' and 'responsibility'.

I would argue that the framing of these problems, and their resolution, is not the task of science but the task of philosophy, and that the debate is located in relativism rather than objectivism, words rather than numbers, and feelings rather than data.

'The conflict, therefore, is not between actions that are free and actions that are caused: our science of human nature applies indifferently to both and denies the reality of the contrast. The conflict is between attitudes that require us to overlook causality and attitudes that require us to attend to it, and to define what we see in terms of it.' (Roger Scruton, Modern Philosophy: A Survey, London, Sinclair-Stevenson, 1994, p.234).

See also: Humour in the Holocaust: Does Laughter Relieve Our Suffering or Diminish Our Objections to the Suffering of Others? Chapter 6: Conclusion. (Free will versus determinism). http://martygull.blogspot.com/2011/03/chris-port-blog-151-humour-in-holocaust.html

* * * * * * *

My conclusion? Stearns’ and Scrutons’ observations are valid and still hold. Free Will is a psychological concept, not a neurophysiological one. Deciding if, when and how to apply Free Will (or not) depends on sociological contexts, not scientific ones. Free Will is an illusion, but so is consciousness. Scientists aren’t suggesting that we walk around disbelieving in ourselves, and neither am I. Metaphysically I think we’re saying something very similar. There is no ghost in the machine. There is only the machine. But the machine is so complex that it thinks it has a ghost. The only way to exorcise this ghost is to dismantle the machine. Nature does that soon enough for us anyway, so why not just enjoy the ride?

This is an aesthetic justification for Free Will. Human beings sometimes throw themselves into the mud because they have become more than their machines. The illusion of meaning has become more real than the reality of futility. Ultimately, even scientists have to believe in some ghost stories. Even Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris go along with the illusions of love and friendship and kindness and morality.

Actually, Free Will is like Drama. We willingly suspend our disbelief to enjoy our own ghost stories. When a human being stops believing in their own ghost story, they become a mere machine. Machines have no Free Will. Ergo, if you are a human being, you have Free Will. You have chosen to suspend your disbelief in your own ghost story…

All those years ago, when I was running for that bloody rugby ball, my mind couldn’t believe what I was doing. So I just suspended my disbelief and did it anyway, because that was the game I happened to be playing at the time. Did I enjoy it? At the time, to be honest, no. As I said, I’m not a sportsman. But looking back, hell yeah. I don’t like getting kicked to bits by muddy boots, but rather that than be called a coward in the changing rooms. Maybe all those years of smoking were just my mind’s way of reminding my body not to run so bloody fast next time.

Maybe getting older is just realizing that the game is nearly up. It’s not rugby now. It’s something much more important. The game now is for the future of human minds, and this human mind in particular. That’s more important than an awkward shaped ball. So the real question is not why I’m throwing myself in the mud. The real question is why wouldn’t I throw myself in the mud? That’s the bullet-time moment in a very strange game, not of my own choosing. I hope I get the chance to look back on it :)