Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe

I saw an article recently which frustrated and annoyed me. In short, the article is a World Health Organization discussion of various studies done to measure the medical effects of cell phone radiation. Some of the studies indicated that cancer rates were higher for cell phone users, and so the WHO was issuing a warning that it could be an issue, saying "be careful of cell phone use or you'll get cancer."

Let me point out that, from a Physicists' point of view, this is ridiculous. No, I'm not talking, "Oh, this is surprising." No, it's worse than that: the idea is laughable. It would take extremely decisive results and well controlled studies for this to have any credibility with me. However, studies are split, at the very worst (you can find a list on Wikipedia, with the vast majority concluding that there are no carcinogenic effects).

But why do I find reports of this incredible? The answer goes back to the basic Physics. In 1901, Max Planck proposed the first component of quantum theory: that light comes in discreet packets, his idea eventually evolving to the modern photon. The idea was cited by Einstein in his explanation of the photoelectric effect in 1905, and has been extensively confirmed since (for crying out loud, it's a key concept in high harmonic generation, which was the main thing my lab at BYU worked on). So it's pretty well established: light is absorbed in packets, and the energy of each packet is proportional to the frequency of the light. Now, the effect that light can have on matter is purely an issue of the absorption of these packets, and all they really do is impart energy, momentum, and angular momentum to matter... that's it.

Now, what causes cancer? There's a lot of things, but one thing is common to all cancers: it requires some sort of chemical, electronic, or structural change to a macromolecule in the cell. That is it. Now, light can cause changes of this sort. In fact, that's how we can see: light with sufficient energy causes pigments in the eye to change, which then acts as a chemical and electronic signal which can be interpreted by the brain. However, a change to the molecule like this requires a certain amount of energy.

Okay, now let's bring it all together. We've got cell phone radiation (which is all electromagnetic radiation, i.e., light), which is at a frequency of around 1 GHz. Visible light, which is near the lower end of light that has enough energy to have these kinds of effects is at a frequency of... wait for it... 500 THz, 500,000 times as energetic as cell phone radiation. What does that mean? Simple: It takes about 500,000 photons of cell phone radiation to equal one visible photon, meaning that you would need about a million cell phone photons hitting the same molecule at the exact same time in order to cause damage. Just so you know, that doesn't happen. The probability of getting two photons to hit the same molecule at the same time is practically zero unless the intensity is unimaginably huge (for cell phone radiation we're talking about a trillion times the intensity of light hitting the earth's surface here).

So what does cell phone radiation do when it gets absorbed? Well, it has enough energy to do one of two things: it might be able to make a molecule spin. Or, more likely, it just gives it a little push, making it move. That's it. Cell phone radiation makes the molecules in your head jiggle a little bit. How much is a little bit? Well, we're talking about a power equal to about 3% of what your body emits in radiation (oh, yeah, I forgot to mention, everything at room temperature is emitting radiation, too... and not just that, but radiation that's close to 100,000 times more energetic than cell phone radiation, so without even talking about the fundamental physics of what light does to molecules we could just do the comparison of "You're standing in a room where you're being bombarded by radiation. If that can't cause cancer, neither can cell phone radiation."). And of course that's not the whole story... there's all the other energy that's going around in your body. So, in conclusion, cell phone radiation heats your head by less than the amount that standing in a hot room does. And it doesn't have the physical ability to do anything else to you.

In conclusion, don't worry about cell phone radiation. It's harmless.

Title: Einstein

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Hope for things which are not seen, which are true

I've been pursuing a common thread in my last several posts, building my basic philosophy of Ethics and political philosophy, and I will be returning to both of these themes very shortly, but at least for this post I'd like to depart from them and consider a bit of Theology. Of course, I can hardly take credit for my Theology; in fact, I hope that I can refer to it as "my Theology" only in the sense that it has been confirmed to me, for its origin should be God and revelations from Him. But, then, I may speculate some, and I alone must take the blame for such speculation.

So in establishing first principles of Theology, it may come as no surprise that I follow in the footsteps of Joseph Smith, who, after all, was a prophet, and quite possibly the greatest Theologian since Christ Himself, at least in terms of teaching actual truth. So I will begin where he began: with Faith. Now, the truth of the matter is that I am utterly inadequate to add to Joseph's own masterful Lectures on Faith. If you wish to really understand the subject of Faith, then read that. However, while I cannot add, I can summarize or condense.

Faith is assurance or confidence of the existence of things which we have not seen. Now here, from the very start, the secularist objects: Why should we act based upon things that we do not see? Yet the prophet Joseph Smith gives us a response, near the beginning of the first lecture:
If men were duly to consider themselves, and turn their thoughts and reflections to the operations of their own minds, they would readily discover that it is faith, and faith only, which is the moving cause of all action in them; that without it both mind and body would be in a state of inactivity, and all their exertions would cease, both physical and mental. Were this class to go back and reflect upon the history of their lives, from the period of their first recollection, and ask themselves what principle excited them to action, or what gave them energy and activity in all their lawful avocations, callings, and pursuits, what would be the answer? Would it not be that it was the assurance which they had of the existence of things which they had not seen as yet? Was it not the hope which you had, in consequence of your belief in the existence of unseen things, which stimulated you to action and exertion in order to obtain them? Are you not dependent on your faith, or belief, for the acquisition of all knowledge, wisdom, and intelligence? Would you exert yourselves to obtain wisdom and intelligence, unless you did believe that you could obtain them? (Lectures on Faith, 1:10-11)
So there it is. We should act on things that we do not see because every consequence to every action which we undertake is unseen until we perform the action, so that we can have no purpose except one toward something which is not yet seen. The restriction should not be against action based on what we do not see, but against action based on what is not true. Granted, we cannot always discern truth from error, but the point is that the inability to see something does not make it a poor basis for action.

Let us narrow the subject a bit. There is the very general principle of Faith, which we must exert in anything we do, but our confidence can be rooted in many different things. For example, we have Faith that the sun will rise because experience teaches us that it happens every day, and though we do not yet see that it will happen again tomorrow, we are quite confident of it. This Faith in our senses and past experiences is something which almost everyone considers reasonable. In contrast, there is Faith in a person, confidence in that person. To have confidence in someone is to trust them in some way: to trust what they say, or to trust that they will be capable of doing what they have said they will do. Of course, we generally find that this sort of trust can be good or bad, as a person may or may not be worthy of such trust, and absolute and perfect trust in a person (which is most often associated with Faith) is surely misplaced. Finally, there is Faith in God and Faith in Christ. This would still indicate trust. The difference is that it is always sensible to trust God or Christ, for Their nature makes Them perfectly trustworthy.

Thus, the first two requirements which Joseph Smith lays out as essential for a person to have unshaken Faith are evident from its very nature: Joseph says that a man must first have the idea that God exists (for it is impossible to have confidence in that which you believe to be non-existent), and second he must have a correct understanding of the perfections and attributes of God. After all, when one knows that God is perfectly loving, all-powerful, all-knowing, unchanging, and so forth, then he knows that God is never wrong (for He is omniscient), whatever He instructs will be to the man's benefit (for He is perfectly loving), and He is capable of carrying out whatever He sets out to do (because He is omnipotent). A man who knows that God possesses these attributes fully and unchangeably must conclude that he can trust God perfectly, but if a man does not know that God possesses these attributes, then he cannot have such complete trust, but must suppose that God, like any man which he trusts, must also be prone to error.

Now, I have barely scratched the surface on Faith, but it's already enough to establish some important consequences: First, there is the prophet Joseph Smith's statement, "Whatever God commands is right, no matter what it is, although we may not see the reason thereof till long after the events transpire" (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith). Beyond moral imperatives, God is always right. If God says that He has a plan (and He has said so), then that plan is the best way for us to attain happiness, and it will succeed. There is the need for humility before God: After all, if God knows everything, then He is smarter than you, and if He has all power then you're reliant on Him, so you'd be foolish to set yourself up as greater than or even equal to Him.

Finally, there is perhaps the most practical consequence, what R. Conrad Schultz of the Seventy referred to as "Faith Obedience." Boyd K. Packer said, "Latter-day Saints are not obedient because they are compelled to be obedient. They are obedient because they know certain spiritual truths and have decided, as an expression of their own individual agency, to obey the commandments of God" (Agency and Control, April 1983 General Conference). That is, because we know that we can trust God, it makes sense to obey Him. In fact, you might say that nothing makes more sense. He is never wrong, so whatever He tells you to do will bring you the most happiness possible if you obey it. It's that simple.

Title: Alma 32:21

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Irreligion as the state religion would be the worst of all combinations

Presupposing that at least some, such as myself, view religious conviction as an important source of morality, and morality being a basis for popular sovereignty within my (and, I presume, some others') political philosophy, and considering the controversy of the subject, it may be natural to address the role of religion in public discourse at this point.

First, let me state what I believe to be a significant problem: In many circles, a religious conviction is viewed as illegitimate, an unsound basis for belief, and those subscribing to such convictions are even, at times, viewed as diminished by those views (recall my first post, in which I cited the allegation that a person couldn't be a good scientist and religious). In many circles, a person acting from religious conviction in the public sphere is viewed as improper, and it's even argued that such actions are contrary to the establishment clause in the First Amendment of the US Constitution.

I would like to go on the record as saying that such a view of religious conviction is not only incorrect, but inconsistent.

First of all, there is the problem that Elder Maxwell noted way back in 1978, that such an approach actually establishes irreligion as a preferred religion. All opinions must be placed on irreligious terms if action from religious conviction is considered illegitimate.

Second, under such a view, one must appeal to a philosophical axiom which is just as scientifically unprovable as a religious conviction. Science only makes measurement of what is, and if what is differs from what ought to be, then science can know nothing of it, having no way of measuring what ought to be independent of what is. Thus, science can discover nothing of the basic axioms of Ethics. Similarly, Mathematics is based on an axiomatic structure: you must assume something before you can build anything up. Logic requires basic facts to make conclusions. In short, the methods by which there is any certainty in a secular world can say nothing of the most basic principles of Ethics. One requires certain unprovable definitions and axioms in order to assert anything contrary to Moral Realism and the ability to gain moral truth from a divine source. We are now bound to return to a question very similar to the old one; now it is, "Under what philosophical set of axioms should we act?" My answer is to let everyone act on the philosophical ground that they see fit in public discourse, for there is no objective and independent way of determining which world views have validity and which do not. Yet dismissing or barring religion from public discourse arbitrarily decides what, out of all these possibilities, is right.

And what of people in public office? The same applies. Supposing that I were to run for public office, then my philosophical and moral beliefs would be quite visible. If the people wish to elect a Moral Realist with certain beliefs about moral truth, who will scrupulously attempt to balance their wishes with his morality (generally siding with them, but perhaps breaking with the majority at times), and who will seek to serve them, then why shouldn't I, religious beliefs and all, be allowed to serve? In fact, even if I weren't to make such efforts to balance popular opinion with my beliefs, even if I were to completely ignore my constituency and simply vote based on what I think, so long as the people knowingly and willingly chose my moral sense rather than a willingness to cater to their opinion, could they not do so (now, I do believe that I would feel a need to regard the opinion of my constituency, yet the argument stands, so far as I can see)? If the people see me as fit, see my moral code as good, and believe me to be wise, then my actions should not be viewed as anything less than legitimate. If they want the wisest, most honest, and most moral person that they can find, rather than one selected by any number of other criteria (such as choosing someone based on whether they will vote as they wish), and believe that I am him, then their choice for integrity, wisdom, and morality should be honored. It is only if I were to act dishonestly, to attempt to deceive the electorate, perhaps hiding my Moral Realism until I was in office, that actions based on that would not carry the full weight of legitimacy offered by the will of the people.

Now, two more points: First, this goes both ways. In a society built on liberty and popular sovereignty, everyone must be free to act on his philosophical and moral beliefs. An atheist and a Moral Relativist treating all of society as a social contract should be free to use his vote and his voice to put forward those parts of the contract which he sees as most to his benefit. A Moral Realist should be free to advocate whatever he believes to be right in the society, whatever his source for that belief.

Second, it is important to realize that there is at least one type of public discourse where all must be done from common philosophical ground: in a debate. For if there is not common ground in debate with regards to the pertinent axioms and material facts then a civil debate becomes extremely difficult, possibly meaningless. If the differences lie in things which cannot be successfully argued (such as basic axioms), then what can a debate tell us? Perhaps a reader can suggest a solution, but I, for one, do not see how a debate can be effective if those arguing do not share this kind of common ground. The best solution that I can see is for those involved to agree on the axioms under which they will be operating for the purpose of the debate beforehand, but honestly this, to me, indicates that modern political debates are unlikely to be effective... and I would assert that my observation confirms this.

Title: Neal A. Maxwell, Meeting the Challenges of Today

Sunday, June 12, 2011

In order to form a more perfect union

We have said that certain things ought to be.

Now I wish to turn to political philosophy, using the last two posts, Moral Realism and the ways in which we may discover which moral principles are true, as a foundation. To me this is reasonable, for we have just been discussing the idea of what ought to be in general, and now we are addressing what ought to be in society.

Now, we must first ask whether a specific type of government is a fundamental good, for if it is, then the whole business is complete, we have reduced political philosophy to a tautology (the type of government which ought to be is the type which is fundamentally good). However, I at least have no evidence that any government or type of government is fundamentally good, as the good of all forms of government seems to be related to other moral principles. Furthermore, others feel the need to appeal to other principles to decide the rightness of a political action, which seems to indicate that others believe as I do that government does not represent in itself a fundamental good (I will take this as an axiom, for I do not know how to begin at an earlier point than this, or if one could find a more basic applicable axiom). Therefore, to evaluate the good of a specific government or form of government, or to develop the best form possible, we must appeal to other moral principles. In fact, it is meaningless to talk about "good government" without first having an idea of "good."

So, if the good in any government must be developed from (or at least evaluated by) moral principles, then the government that allows and provides maximum adherence to moral principles, and which itself adheres maximally to moral principles, must be good. We might restate this as, "Government and law exist (or at least ought to exist) for the sake of those things which fundamentally ought to be."

Now, here we must be careful, because, as we noted in the last post, it is often difficult to discern what constitutes moral truth. We have established that government ought to exist for the sake of moral principles, but without knowing what constitute moral principles, this is a worthless fact. Of course, most people have some ideas about morality, and I noted in the last post that we may presume that the human conscience or innate sense of right and wrong represents at least an approximation of moral truth, so we have that as a starting point. However, as I also noted, people don't always agree on what is moral. Then we might say that we have only taken the basic question, "What is right?" and replaced it with the question, "When conceptions of morality conflict, whose morality do we follow?" Well, there is one obvious answer to this question: We should follow God's morality, since, as noted before, God's perfection establishes His morality as objectively preferred. The answer, then, for the perfect government would be a true Theocracy, in the most literal sense of the word: that is, for God to come down and rule among us.

However, there is a big problem with that approach to government. As noted before, we can't control God. He won't come down and rule among us except as He chooses to. And He has not physically come down for all to see, so we simply don't have that option. Yes, there are those who are in communication with Him, so you could suggest that someone who has a particularly good relationship with God would be the best to lead (and you would even be right, so far as I can see), but there is a catch: People could always lie, saying that they receive instruction from God when they do not. In this case, you could easily have a person who has fooled everyone, saying that he is a prophet speaking for God, who people would then follow into all sorts of behavior that is, in fact, against morality. So it may be true that a prophet is the best possible human leader, but you have to know that it is really God in charge, and not a charlatan. And then, if we're looking for prophets, we're just faced with another question: "How do we decide who is the false prophet and who is the true prophet?" In the end, we could say that this is another dead end, at least in the sense that we still need to figure out a way to decide.

So we cannot seem to appeal to a preferred morality to follow. If we cannot find an individual's morality to follow, then perhaps an alternative is to follow what we might term the average of everyone's morality. This may seem arbitrary, but perhaps we can justify it as such: As I discussed in the previous post, we suppose that a person's conscience represents a fairly good approximation of moral truth. Further, let us suppose, though experience suggests that it is not true, that everyone's morality is independent of everyone else's, and is primarily based upon that person's conscience. Then we may suppose that the errors in morality will vary from person to person, so that agreement on an error will be less common than agreement on a truth. Thus, in the mean, you get something that is probably even nearer to moral truth than the consciences of the individuals.

However, there is the assumption that I noted to be faulty from the beginning: experience demonstrates that people often influence one another, and sometimes these influences cause errors to be magnified, rather than averaged out, so this system of popular sovereignty can't be anticipated to produce laws based perfectly on moral truth. Indeed, it is a common maxim that the opinions of the masses do not prove anything to be true. All the same, as I do not know another solution to the question of "whose morality" to follow, this is the best that I have; and though we cannot suppose that the errors in morality will be "averaged out" as we could hope if everyone were to honestly and independently seek out moral truth, we can at least hope that this will give us something of the truth. On top of this, we can hope that in whatever measure individuals seek to independently understand and act on moral truth, this system will offer better and better results. So we essentially put the burden of good government on the people, saying that if we have a moral people, we will have good government. Furthermore, there is a significant advantage to popular sovereignty over other methods of determining whose morality to adopt: Other methods may well be incompatible with alternative political philosophies, whereas popular sovereignty is, in fact, robust, being compatible with several Ethical philosophies. The differences that tend to arise can be manifest in the voting: a Hedonist will vote for whatever measures are for his own good, or those which he believes will most likely secure his own pleasure; a Realist will vote for whatever measures he believes are in harmony with moral truth; and so forth.

Thus, at this stage, I conclude that the ideal must be some form of popular sovereignty, at least so long as we don't have God ruling on earth, though there is considerably more to explore on the subject. I have not even addressed what type of government of the many that fall under the heading of popular sovereignty, nor have I at all considered such principles as liberty and justice which are so strongly connected to government. In fact, I feel that this opens up a wide array of possible discussions. But this post is already very long, so I will begin again next time.

Title: US Constitution, Preamble

Friday, June 10, 2011

But the question now is, "Is it right?"

So I've gotten as far as Moral Realism. I believe that there are basic moral principles of what ought to be, independent of our belief in and adherence to them. If certain things ought to be, then it seems reasonable that we should try to find these things out and to do them, and establish a society which fosters adherence to these moral truths.

The first question that we might ask, then, is how we might try to find out these moral truths. The first thing that comes to mind, being a scientist, is to observe the world around me and see if I can figure anything out from that. But I quickly get stuck. I can't see any way of looking around and figuring out what ought to be simply from what is. In fact, this is Hume's point, the "is-ought problem" is the fact that we don't know a way to figure out the way things should be simply from the way things are. We always have to appeal to something more.

The next thing that comes to mind is to look at where I got Moral Realism in the first place. There were two basic sources that I appealed to: First, God, which I focused on primarily, coming to a conclusion which we might summarize as "God's morality establishes an objectively preferred morality." The second source is the apparently innate nature of morality, the fact that everyone seems to have a conscience, and it's very hard to ignore or get rid of. Again, I focused less on this because I believe that God makes a stronger case for Moral Realism, but this seemingly innate sense of morality does give us some information about morality. There could be more ways to learn about morality than these, but these are the two that are apparent to me at this stage of reasoning.

As to how we may learn what is right, we may first note that, by the "God is always right" rule (I don't know if I've explicitly stated this before, and I haven't done a real treatment of the nature of God, but the rule follows simply from the omniscience of God, which I will have to consider at length in some later post), whatever God says on the subject of morality must be true. Thus, if we ask God what is right on some subject and get an unambiguous answer, we may have confidence in this. Now, not everyone believes that they may receive such clear and distinct information from God, and so this channel of information is not necessarily open to everyone (for you cannot utilize a tool until you know that you have it). This makes us turn to the other source for morality I mentioned above. However, we have no a priori reason for supposing that the innate sense of morality must be accurate. In fact, there are some contradictions to be found in what is believed to be moral in different societies, so that we may be sure that one society or another must be in error. However, even though people seem capable of twisting, silencing, or corrupting morality from this evidence, there are two important correlations which make me believe that a person's conscience is worth trusting: First, there seems to be a fairly strong correlation in the moral sense of different people and cultures, for the points on which they agree tend to be far more numerous than those on which they disagree. If we had nothing else to go on, then this might be an indication that the innate moral sense was at least our best guess for what is right, and that its answers would usually be at least self-consistent. The second correlation is even more important, however: It is the correlation between the innate moral sense and what God has told me directly. As such, there is an apparent correlation between the sense of what is right and what is actually right. This can give us confidence that our honest moral belief built from careful reflection on what our innate moral sense tells us is probably a very good approximation for what is right. Finally, one last advantage which the human conscience has: Whereas some people call on God and receive specific answers from Him, everyone has a conscience, so this can be regarded as a universal way of figuring out what is at least approximately right, even for those who do not believe in God.

So we do have ways of determining what is right: We can ask God and, if He does not give us specific guidance, we can trust that our consciences are at least likely to give us approximate moral truth. It remains to utilize these channels to ascertain moral truth, and then to act on this moral truth. Learn what is right, then do it. I see little more that needs to be said on the subject of personal ethics, unless it were to begin to outline moral truths. However, I will not do that. I think that I will leave personal ethics here, and turn to ethics as it relates to society, beginning my treatment of political philosophy in my next post.

Title: Immanuel Kant, Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysic of Morals

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Right was to be the important thing

C.S. Lewis gives an interesting argument on morality in Mere Christianity. In brief, he gives a variant on the argument from morality: he shows that morality is a code of conduct innate in people (I say "shows," although you cannot call what he writes a strict proof, because I belief that his demonstration is sufficient in conjunction with my own observations to be at least difficult to object to), argues that it is contrary to evolutionary pressure, and then gives the only plausible alternative as being transcendental or divine in origin, thus invoking God. In short, morality is his argument for God, and how he came to be convinced of the existence of God, in spite of his previous atheism.

Well, I will take the opposite tack: I believe a stronger statement can be made upon establishing the existence of God; and as I have already made it clear that I believe in Him and argued for His existence in the best way I believe possible (in terms of the experiment), I will now take the existence of God as my starting point.

You see, examining myself and those around me, I am convinced that morality is innate, but that does not prove that morality represents anything inherent in the world: Perhaps it represents only something inherent in people. However, from the assumption of the existence of God we may establish that morality is not only innate, but inherent in reality itself: That there is a universal standard of right and wrong by which our actions ought to be determined and against which they may be measured. In short, I am a moral realist. Moral realism is defined by saying that moral statements can be made as logical propositions (such as "Murder is wrong") and that some of these statements are true. This is in contrast to philosophies such as moral relativism, which asserts that morality is entirely subjective, with either no inherent truth or falsity in such propositions or the assertion that all such propositions are false, and all morality is merely a cultural or personal belief. I find that the existence of God provides a quite firm basis for moral realism; in fact, so long as you assume that God makes moral statements (and most of my experiences with Him establish this, the remainder being morally neutral), then His omniscience, omnipotence, and so forth (His perfections) establish an objectively preferred morality out of all possible moral beliefs, thus fully convincing me of a moral reality. That which God states to be moral is, in fact, moral, and remains set regardless of our beliefs.

What I am talking about, then, are moral truths. They are true as universally as what we might call physical truths, but with an important difference: To use Hume's terminology, physical truths are concerned with "is" statements, while moral truths are concerned with "ought" statements. They are, in fact, quite independent of one another: An "is" statement does not necessarily imply an "ought" statement, nor an "ought" statement an "is" statement. In other words, people don't always do what they ought to do. The comparison between the two types of truth, however, has further usefulness. For example, it is usually difficult to state absolutes which are universally true in either the physical world or morality. For example, it may be a physical fact that the sky is blue; however, it may turn red at sunset. But we can answer both these circumstances with a discussion of Rayleigh Scattering: for, regardless of the time of day, this explanation does give you the color of the sky. If you object further that Rayleigh Scattering is not fully general, that it only explains the color of the sky on a planet with an atmosphere with certain properties similar to earth's, we may define deeper and deeper physical principles, until we finally discover something that is without exception (for example, so far as we can tell, conservation of momentum is a physical absolute). Similarly, in morality, even fairly definite rules such as "Thou shalt not kill" can be answered with exceptional circumstances (if killing one person will save hundreds of others, is it right?), and while you may maintain that the prohibition against murder holds in these circumstances, there is certainly room for debate. However, just as in the physical case, it may be possible to find a fully general moral absolute. For example, there is one readily apparent moral absolute in an ethical system built from the idea of "God's morality": Joseph Smith summarized it as, "Whatsoever God commands is right."

One last point, a practical issue, based on a moral realist ethical system. If there exists moral truth, then it is reasonable to presume that we should first try to discover such moral truths, then act upon them. In fact, it seems plausible that, upon discovering a moral truth, we should do what we can to foster the translation of that "ought" statement into an "is" statement, both in our own conduct and in whatever ways we can influence those around us (without, of course, compromising other ethical principles). That provides us with quite a bit more that could be said, but I think I will leave that for another post.

Title: T.H. White, The Once and Future King

Sunday, June 5, 2011

One thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see

Truthfully, the rational arguments are secondary and almost certainly incomplete (I am not a psychologist, and the primary objection one may raise is psychological). I am asserting that there is a spiritual process which is in many ways superior to the rational process, and while I wish to do my best to rationally establish this, to me it seems self-evident, in the sense that an experience with it makes its veracity clear. As to my own knowledge, that is the trick: I have actually had these experiences. They are real. I can't argue with that sense of light and truth except by abandoning my axiom, because the perception is literal and just as real as sensory perception. That is a simple statement of experience: it can't make for a debating point with someone who disagrees, because in a debate you need to agree on material facts and argue consequences, but anyone who disagrees will be disagreeing about a material fact, not a consequence. I do feel an obligation to use the rational as well as the spiritual process to seek truth, and I like Descartes, so a philosophical argument such as I can formulate is requisite, but it's not the heart of it for me.

The title of this post comes from the Bible, and here is where it comes in. I believe the story is illustrative. You see, in John 9, Christ miraculously heals a man, who had been born blind, on the Sabbath. The Jews at this time were divided on whether one could legally perform healing arts on the Sabbath, and some who opposed Him, latching onto this fact, told the man who had been healed that Christ was a sinner for performing the healing. To this the man replied, "Whether he be a sinner or no, I know not: one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see" (John 9:25). The thing is that this man had never received any real education, whereas those he was arguing with had been taught for years in all the ins and outs of the Law of Moses, which was their basis for the conception of what constituted a sinner. But whatever arguments the Pharisees could make from their vast learning, they could not counter the simple fact that the man was born blind, but could see. Whatever else they might say about Jesus, He did perform that miracle. The same with me: I have had these experiences, and while (unlike the man born blind) I have been trained in reason (especially math and science), I do know what I have seen and experienced.

As a last consideration, I would like to address this beyond myself. Actually, the Book of Mormon prophets Alma and Moroni do the best job here, so I'll give you their suggestions: 
try the experiment. You see, that's the trick: I tried the experiment, and I got results. Those verses outline the experiment as "ask God." That's really the only way to know about God. You see, I mentioned the issue of control in passing before, and this is the biggest thing that distinguishes a spiritual or religious experiment from a scientific one. In science, we must be in control of what we are studying, whereas in religion we can't be, because we're studying God and He is all-powerful. So you've got to have an open mind and be willing to listen for His answer, but He's told us to ask, so He won't be offended if we do so sincerely. I know He's there based on my own experience. And any good scientist would be willing to perform such a simple experiment in the hopes of learning something so profound, even if he can't be sure whether he will get results.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Last time I considered certain experiences, which I said were from God, but, following Descartes, called into question their origin, and in preparation to answering this objection, considered their nature. So the question is, "By what process are things made certain to me in these experiences?" so that we may evaluate whether it fits my label as a form of perception of the outside world and if that perception bears, as I assert, a similar certainty (in fact, I assert that it is greater, but similar is sufficient) to that of sensory perception. There are three potential answers here, so far as I can see. The first two are obvious, as they are the processes of which I am aware by which our minds evaluate information: by a rational process (reasoning it out), or by an emotional process (an emotional reaction). There is also, for a third possibility, my assertion that it is a spiritual process, that God literally and directly grants information to the mind and heart along with a confirmation. This possibility is clearly a matter of perception in the sense which I have discussed: it is external information being delivered directly into my mind, just as sensory perception is external information brought in.

To determine which of these processes is at work, an argument can be developed from the fact that, whatever this process by which I receive light and truth is, I have no power over it: it acts quite independent of me. I do not know how to manufacture the sense of light, nor how to conjure up the ideas that come with it. There are certain rules by which I can increase the probability of such an experience: by moral action. If I do what is morally good and what previous experiences of this sort suggest, then they are more likely to occur. However, there is no definite mental state immediately preceding such an experience, nor an exact action which always produces one. Thus, I conclude that these experiences are produced by means external to myself. They cannot be purely psychological in nature, because I am not the agent of their creation.

One more argument, built around the statement I made, that direction is often a part of these impressions. While not, in my view, as strong as the immediately preceding argument to establish the external nature of these impressions, this allows a quasi-scientific evaluation, for we have specific predictions and, just like scientific knowledge, these predictions should be accurate. Furthermore, if they are psychological in nature, I suspect that these directions will not run contrary to what I believe and desire. However, impressions have done precisely that. I have a few stories I could tell wherein God told me something very specific, contrary to my own wishes, and, by my own careful calculations, foolish and impossible. And yet, when I followed through, the predictions were accurate, and I was certainly happy; when I didn't hearken, I saw the consequences very directly (my greatest regret to date is among these). Now, I'll grant that most of the time this sort of direct cause and effect isn't so evident, but I can think of at least a few cases where not only is the original idea, indifferent of its accuracy, virtually unexplainable from a psychological standpoint, but there's a practical omniscience in its accuracy. Exact science would require more careful control of conditions and a larger sample size, but, quite frankly, we aren't in control here, so we have to deal with what we have, and the results thus far are astoundingly consistent in support of the theistic thesis. Beside this, and probably more importantly, the reliability of this communication or perception is suggested: I find that I can trust these experiences with God as much or more than I can trust my senses (precisely the necessary condition noted above).



Title: Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Of the things of which we may doubt

I am sure that what I talked about at the end of last post are real experiences with God. However, if I like Descartes (today's title comes from Descartes' Meditations) so much, it's certainly fair to ask, "How can you be sure? Could it not be a psychological illusion? Or, to use Descartes' own example, couldn't it be a powerful evil demon fooling you?" Well, I will start with an axiom: "That which I perceive does, to some extent, represent reality." I know that Descartes does not take advantage of such an axiom, but I've read only summaries of the Meditations (I plan to remedy this soon, but the Meditations are not light reading, and I wish to be able to take my time with them), so I don't understand how he overcomes the general objection of the evil demon and cannot decide whether his proof is valid. Furthermore, I believe that from a utilitarian standpoint my axiom must be considered as true (whether proven true, as Descartes suggests, or taken as an axiom): for if we have no faith in any perception (sensory or otherwise), how shall we ever decide anything or act in any way? I could say considerably more on the subject, but that will probably be left to another post, and let it suffice for the time being to say that decision making is impossible without any input through perception (if you know a way around this, I'd love to hear it). I shall therefore take as the threshold defining "to some extent" for my axiom to be that my sensory perceptions are approximately valid, a single event of sensory perception establishing that which I have perceived to greater than 90% certainty (90% is an arbitrary figure here, but I believe it to be simultaneously conservative--I don't think my eyes trick me more than 10% of the time--and sufficient to establish reality--in part because things are often attested to many times--and anyway, the exact figure does not matter from here on out, but simply illustrates that we can give a figure which is simultaneously conservative and establishes reality).

In this case, the question to be posed is whether there is any sort of perception to which I may attribute my knowledge of God. Well, yes. In a literal sense, by His communicating with me. This I perceive quite literally in my own self: using poetic or scriptural language, in my mind and heart. I certainly perceive something which is beyond myself, though this perception is different from sensory perception in the sense that I am not the primary active agent, as I may be argued to be in the case of sensory perception (actually, it may be more accurate to say that sensory perception is also passive, as our eyes do not actively bring light into them, but passively absorb light from our surroundings; but argue as you wish, whether the senses are active or passive, it does not matter for my purposes today). This does not address the psychological argument, and so you may ask, "Is this, which you call the Spirit, not merely an emotional response?" I respond that it is not, but you may certainly press the issue, so now I'll have to explain more about these experiences.

Let me note that it is extremely distinctive. It is simply not like any emotion, so if it is simply an internal emotion then it is a unique one. The fact is that I cannot simply call it love (I have been in love before, and it is not just this), or calm (I have certainly been calm), or happiness (I have been happy before), or any other single emotion that I have experienced separate from this. In fact, it is all of these and more: love, peace, and joy, yes, but there is more to it than that.

First, there is a sensation which I have never heard described better than as "light." This is perhaps the most distinctive bit, but by its distinctive nature I am afraid that I am completely unable to convey it in words, because usually we describe sensation and perception in terms of comparisons. If this seems like a cop-out, then describe the taste of salt, or the color yellow, or joy without comparison or contrast with something else. If you can, then I hope that you have this kind of spiritual experience: you'll communicate it better than me, that's for certain. Regardless, the point stands that it is distinctive, so that I may say what is and is not an experience of this type.

Further, from the first time that I (somewhat unexpectedly) had this very distinct impression of light, I knew, quite simply, two things: that it was God, and that what I was saying at that moment was true. This brings us to the second, and related, observation: with this sense of "light" there is always conveyed truth, knowledge. Intelligence is always communicated. Occasionally it is simply certainty, but most often there is further insight, direction, or clarity of understanding. This is interesting, and I will have to come back to it later. However, it seems that the "certainty" part is at the heart of the questions for now, so that will be my starting point for next time.


Title: Descartes, Meditations on First Philosophy, Meditation 1