Monday, December 30, 2013
Deregulation
One of the hot-button topics for the Republican/Tea Party candidates is deregulation. Government is too big, they say. There are too many regulations keeping business handcuffed. If government would get out of the way, businesses would be more profitable, hire more people, and the economy would flourish. If it’s good for business, it’s good for the country. And if a company is too greedy or provides bad service or causes harm, free and open competition will drive them out of business. The market is self-regulating – dwindling sales will eliminate crooks and swindlers. At first hearing it makes sense. Who wants to be regulated? Who wants the government telling them what they can and can’t do?
Well, the experiment has been tried. In 1978, the airline industry was deregulated. Prices and routes would no longer be set by the government. The FCC still enforces air safety, but the industry itself is free to act as it pleases. What was the result? First, most long distance flights were eliminated. They are the most costly to run, so most airlines went to a hub and spoke arrangement. If you want to fly from San Francisco to New York on Delta, you fly to their hub in Atlanta and connect from there to New York. Yes, it takes longer, uses more fuel, and requires long layovers in airport terminals, forcing you to buy expensive food. Many smaller third-tier cities simply lost their air service entirely. Second, services were curtailed – no more cooked meals delivered to your seat, more crowded seating, longer layovers, more lost baggage. Most airline employees – everyone from mechanics to pilots - suffered longer hours, fewer benefits, and large pay cuts. The employees had little recourse. Their unions were severely weakened. When the air traffic controllers went on strike, President Reagan simply fired them all and hired “replacement officials.” Third, with few bureaucratic hoops to jump through, scores of new start-up airlines popped up, offering cheap fares and no-frills service. There was huge turmoil throughout the industry. Many of the dominant players, some of whom had founded the industry – Eastern, Pan Am, TWA, Continental – went bankrupt, along with more than a hundred of the newer airlines like Braniff and Midway and America West, putting tens of thousands out of work.
Another example of deregulation is the thrift industry. Thrifts, or Savings and Loans, were created in the 19th century, first in Britain and then in the US. The idea was to encourage people to save by paying them interest on their savings deposits, and then using the money to fund loans for buying homes. It allowed people to grow their savings, get some income, and buy their own homes. Most S&L’s were originally non-profit organizations, similar to credit unions, set up to benefit their members by pooling their resources. Because of the number of people who lost all their savings in bank failures during the depression, federal regulations were set up to keep the thrift industry separate from the banks. They allowed the S&L’s to pay interest on deposits, which banks could not, but not to offer checking accounts. S&L’s could offer only savings accounts and home loans. But with the rise of new products services such as certificates of deposit, electronic funds transfers, IRA’s, and ATM’s – together with skyrocketing interest rates (some CD’s in the 70’s were paying more than 20% APR) – both industries were under enormous competitive pressure and urged deregulation. In two acts in 1980 and 1982, the government deregulated both industries, essentially eliminating any distinctions. S&L’s could offer NOW accounts, from which a consumer could write a Negotiable Order for Withdrawal and give it to another person to allow them to withdraw the money from their account – identical to a check. Banks could pay interest, sell insurance, offer brokerage services and investment products. As with airlines, hundreds of new start-up financial institutions popped up. But without government oversight and auditing, many were soon on the ropes. Most turned to offering investment products that were little more than Ponzi schemes. As long as more customers kept opening more accounts, the company could pay the interest. But as with all Ponzi schemes, the number of gullible victims dried up, and institutions began to fail in record numbers. In only a few years, 747 thrifts – 25% of the industry – went bankrupt. To avoid having hundreds of thousands lose their savings and/or homes, the government stood by its deposit insurance, costing the taxpayers $88 billion dollars, one of the major causes of the soaring national deficit of the early nineties. Hundreds of thousands lost their jobs.
Then there was a second deregulation of the financial industry in the 1990’s. For the first time banks were allowed to operate across state lines, driving out of business hundreds of small-town community banks and forcing consumers to deal with far-off industrial giants. The agencies that monitored investment banking products were eliminated, in spite of strident objections from economic analysts and consumer advocates, leading to under-collateralized mortgage-based securities, derivatives products, hedge funds, and automated trading. Mortgage brokers and lenders were allowed and encouraged to write loans for people who could not reasonably expect to repay them. Homeowners’ mortgages were sold, repackaged, and sold again, to the point that foreclosures become a game of trying to find who actually holds the mortgage in a screen of false companies, fake boards, and non-existent holding companies. Again, with no one to stop them, greed drove the giant investment banks to offer products and services they knew were unsafe, and the Great Recession is the direct result. To date, more than three million American families have lost their homes and five million more are underwater and behind on their payments. Six and a half million have lost their jobs.
So the evidence is that Adam Smith was dead wrong. Left to their own devices, the market does not self-monitor or self-regulate. The free market does not eliminate ruthless and unethical practices, it fosters them - until the industry’s greed drives it over a cliff. And it does nothing to protect the consumer. The common and beloved image of free enterprise is of the bold entrepreneur, the determined inventor, the business that a couple of guys start in their garage, the family farmer, the hopeful young couple who open a restaurant, the older folks who run a neighborhood grocery store. But all these are a disappearing breed. As with gambling, advocates can always point to the tiny majority who strike it rich. But the vast majority fail – crushed by unregulated competition from big agro, big oil, big pharma, big box stores. Without a disinterested party to look over its shoulder, to curtail dishonest practices and unfair competition, to ensure a level playing field - someone whose only interest is protecting the consumer or the environment or the employee, unregulated business will work to grow its bottom line at the expense of its employees, its customers, the environment, the planet's health, and anything else that stands in its way.
And speaking of the environment (without which we will all die), who else but government will protect it? Industry had no incentive to protect it – there’s no profit in it and it can be more expensive to operate in a sustainable way. There didn't use to be environmental regulations – and the air became unhealthy to breathe, the waterways were poisonous, rivers caught fire, the ozone layer was punctured, fisheries collapsed, people in Los Angeles couldn't see across the street, topsoil eroded, toxic and radioactive waste was dumped in poor neighborhoods, asthma skyrocketed, and forests were destroyed. Even when it was clear to everyone that we were being poisoned, industry did nothing to change its practices. Then in 1970, over fierce Republican and industry opposition, the EPA was formed. The Clean Air Act of 1970 and the Clean Water Act of 1972 established standards and gave the government the power to enforce them. The effects are remarkable and immediately obvious to anyone who lived in America before and after the passage of these acts. An independent study of the 1990 amendments to the Clean Air Act alone estimated that during the year 2010 the law cost $27 billion to enforce but saved $110 billion in health care costs, avoided 23,000 premature deaths, 1.8 million illnesses, four million lost work days, and 31 million restricted activity days due to air pollution. So it saves us almost one hundred billion dollars a year, saves tens of thousands of lives, and makes us more productive and healthier. That’s one amendment to one environmental law, which like all environmental regulations, was bitterly opposed by the affected industries.
Which brings us to climate change. Anyone who tells you that human-caused climate change is not a proven fact is either misinformed or lying. There is no debate on the subject among the people who have spent years studying the issues and gathering data. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, a non-partisan multinational panel made up of the leading scientists and advisors from one hundred and twenty countries, determined that climate change is real, is happening already, is accelerating, and is caused by human activities such as deforestation and the burning of fossil fuels. Five years ago, more than 1,500 of the most senior scientists from sixty-three countries, including more than half of all living Nobel Laureates, signed an unequivocal statement that said “Let there be no doubt about the conclusions of the scientific community: the threat of global warming is very real and action is needed immediately. It is a grave error to believe that we can continue to procrastinate. Scientists do not believe this and no one else should either.” Yet industry and its apologists, primarily Rupert Murdoch and Fox News, continue to assert that the issue is controversial, not proven, and a subject of debate in the scientific community. These are lies. These are the same companies that polluted whole countries and decimated fisheries and forests and bitterly fought government “interference.” Now they would rather have the ecosystem collapse, rising sea levels inundate whole countries, and disrupt weather patterns, rather than allow government (which is after all, us) to regulate their harmful activities. This, to put it mildly, is criminal madness.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Heaven
According to Gallup, more than 80% of Americans believe in heaven. To me, that's about the same as believing there are monsters under your bed. I mean, do they think about what it could be like? It's usually pictured with a bunch of folks in white robes sitting on clouds playing harps. Who wants to play a harp all the time? How many of those 257 million people have ever played a harp, or ever wanted to? And not just for a couple of hours, but all the time, every minute, for the rest of time. It's stupid. Who could possibly want that, much less believe such an obviously My Little Pony kind of dream world? Do grown-up, intelligent people really think that's where they want to be?
Okay, so that's the cartoonists' view of heaven, but it's absolutely the only one you ever see pictured - I know of no other image. For a place that's the ultimate goal, the entire reason to be religious, it's funny no one even talks about what it looks like. If you ask a believer, they get all funny and defensive. It's a question you're not supposed to ask, and for a very good reason - all the answers are silly.
I can hear believers say, no, that's the simple view for the simple people - heaven is just the place where all good souls go after death. Your spirit hangs out with your friends and ancestors and departed family members. But that's not what the Bible says; it says you will be resurrected in the flesh. Which flesh? The cells in your body are replaced every seven to ten years, so no matter how long you've lived, most of you is less than ten years old. Are you raised from the dead as you are on judgment day, a rotting corpse, a few atoms scattered over the countryside, or in some animal's spoor? That can't be right. Do you come back as you were just before you died - blown apart, say, or wracked with disease - perhaps in flames? Surely not. Maybe you'll be as you were just before whatever killed you happened. So all the people who died of old age get to be in their nineties forever? What an inducement to off yourself when you're young and healthy. What about all the dead children, infants, and the stillborn? They go to heaven too, do they not? Do they get to spend eternity as half-formed beings, incapable of communication, frozen forever in that helpless and dependent state, never to grow up, never to love? And what about the people who have always been deformed or ugly? They never had a satisfactory body they'd want to spend eternity in.
How else could it work? Maybe the all-merciful god allows you to choose what version of your body you will be in forever. That would be fair and democratic, though religion is the least fair and democratic of all human pursuits. What would you choose - that innocent child you were when you were ten, before puberty turned you into a carnal beast? In early middle age, when you're at the apex of your maturity and mental powers? How about in your twenties, when you're at the height of your physical attractiveness? Do you get to choose any appearance you want? Will there be billions of people who all look just like Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz? That would be confusing - "Martha, is that you?" But it could also be pretty hot with all those beautiful bodies everywhere. Oh wait - there's no sex in heaven is there? I think most Judeo-Christians would agree on that. No sweaty angels banging each other. So we can all be young and beautiful, but we can't be attracted to one another or have sex. All those genitalia, just like God's own (He made us in his image, remember) waving around in the celestial breeze but never to be used or even touched. Sorry, I just don't see how resurrection in the flesh can possibly work.
Maybe this is another case where the Bible can't be taken literally. Like most things in the Bible (such as the Ten Commandments), most believers today say that we are free to interpret the Bible; it's a guide, not a rigid law. As a non-believer, I can't understand this. It's either the absolute word of God or it isn't. If it is God's law, how the hell do you have the nerve to say you can interpret it as you wish, even disregard vast portions of its strictures and commandments - who made you God's editor? The Bible says we should kill our children if they disobey us, we should kill or enslave anyone of different religions, and hundreds of other examples of horrific behavior even devout Christians no longer obey. (And if it isn't God's word, then all scripture is a bunch of wishful superstitious fantasy, so that obviously can't be it.) It strikes me odd that each generation of true believers interprets the word of God as they see fit, eliminating commandments they see as outdated or inconvenient. Leaving that aside, let's say this new liberal reading is acceptable. It's okay to make graven images (Catholics especially are big on statues); it's okay to kill if the other guy is black or gay or an atheist, etc. If you think you can toss out some selected commandments, that's fine with me. I certainly don't want Christian sharia law. If every person who committed adultery were stoned to death, there would be damned few folks to read my screeds - or write them.
Okay, so in spite of what the Bible says, we don't resurrect in the flesh. We're some kind of bodiless spirits that float around in the ether. That certainly eliminates a whole lot of awkward questions about eating, grocery stores, and celestial Port-a-cans. Personally, I find it hard to imagine my mind (okay, soul if you insist - same thing) existing without a body. To me, my body is not a container for me - it is me. Who I am is so inextricably interwoven with my body, its experiences and travels and sensations and injuries and tastes and desires, that I can't think of what I would be like without it. I suppose I can imagine my mind being somehow extracted from my body, like uploading it onto a cloud server somewhere - a common science fiction trope. I can even imagine it being downloaded into another body, or a cybernetic body, or even a mechanical body, and my existence continuing. But to be incorporeal forever, with no physical location, no center, no sense organs, no residence, seems inconceivable - and very unappealing.
But I'm not a believer. If I were, apparently this would be the desired state I worked and prayed all my life to attain: having no physical form, unchanging forever, unable to do any of the physical things that make life worthwhile - eating, traveling, going for a swim or a hike, petting a dog, making love. We will be in the presence of God, and that will be enough. I am content.
One thing we know for sure - we'll be surrounded by our loved ones - everybody we cared about in our lives will be there. That's the whole point of heaven. Our deceased parents will be together forever, whether they got along or not, and no matter how shabbily they may have treated each other in life. For better or for worse, whatever parents we got in life, they'll be with us every day forever. Our deceased spouses will be right there, too - all of them. I hope they learn to share and don't mind being your third husband. There are some people I really don't like in this life - I hope they don't end up being my neighbors in Heaven. My idea of heaven might be to spend eternity with my wife, but hers might be to spend it with her first husband, or that cute quarterback from high school. One of us has to be in hell, I guess.
All our ancestors will be there too - every great-great-grandfather and -mother, going all the way back to - what? Our Neanderthal ancestors, Homo erectus? How about the first protozoa? Sure will be crowded. Oh, that's right, all that history and fossil stuff, physics and chemistry and astronomy and that other claptrap - that's just God's little practical joke, piling up overwhelming evidence in every place we look that there is an ancient history, when actually time started six thousand years ago, just a few hundred years after the first ziggurats were built in Mesopotamia. He must have a very good reason to have every shred of evidence point unerringly to the exact same incorrect age of the universe. But that's another rant.
No matter how long ago time started, there are billions of our ancestors up there with us. I certainly hope we all get along, even though their lives and beliefs were so radically different from those of us newcomers. Will they sneer at how easy we had it when we were alive? What will we have in common with our Egyptian or Celtic or African ancestors? We won't even speak the same language. We better not talk politics or religion, and current events would be a bit strange as well. I'd imagine we'd spend the first few millennia just getting the old ones caught up with the news. "Did you say the Goths sacked Rome, young feller?"
But let's put aside all these difficulties and questions - just ignore them like believers do - what would it be like to be in heaven? We won't have any of the things we like to do now - no football on TV, no rock'n'roll, no movies or books, no long walks on the beach, no great dinners with friends, no meeting new people. So what will we do? We'll all be as the angels - perfect beings. We will be perfectly static. Since we're perfect, there will be no need to strive, to travel, to grow, to learn, to improve ourselves. There will be no crime, no accidents, no stress, no disease, no worries - indeed, no news, no events, no change, forever. Not just for hundreds of years or billions of years, but forever and ever, amen. Sounds boring and pointless to me, but I'm only an unbeliever. I guess that sounds good to believers. There are those cool harps, though. Everybody likes listening to harp music.
When you look at it in any detail, any attempt to really grasp it, the whole concept of heaven doesn't work, no matter how ethereal and non-corporeal you try to make it. It can't be imagined. It only works as a concept if it's completely vague. Don't ask all those questions, just believe. It will be wonderful; everyone will be perfectly happy all the time. But that's not the kind of beings we are. I can't imagine a human being who is happy all the time; I can't imagine a large number of people in all the vast variety of humanity all getting along without any conflict.
To me, it's exactly like all the rest of religion. There is not one atom of evidence for any of it. And no, waving around an old book that says it's true is not evidence. There are thousands of mutually contradictory holy scriptures, with different creation myths, rules and regulations, and descriptions of paradise. Because they all say different things, they can't all be right. But they could all be wrong.
Okay, so that's the cartoonists' view of heaven, but it's absolutely the only one you ever see pictured - I know of no other image. For a place that's the ultimate goal, the entire reason to be religious, it's funny no one even talks about what it looks like. If you ask a believer, they get all funny and defensive. It's a question you're not supposed to ask, and for a very good reason - all the answers are silly.
I can hear believers say, no, that's the simple view for the simple people - heaven is just the place where all good souls go after death. Your spirit hangs out with your friends and ancestors and departed family members. But that's not what the Bible says; it says you will be resurrected in the flesh. Which flesh? The cells in your body are replaced every seven to ten years, so no matter how long you've lived, most of you is less than ten years old. Are you raised from the dead as you are on judgment day, a rotting corpse, a few atoms scattered over the countryside, or in some animal's spoor? That can't be right. Do you come back as you were just before you died - blown apart, say, or wracked with disease - perhaps in flames? Surely not. Maybe you'll be as you were just before whatever killed you happened. So all the people who died of old age get to be in their nineties forever? What an inducement to off yourself when you're young and healthy. What about all the dead children, infants, and the stillborn? They go to heaven too, do they not? Do they get to spend eternity as half-formed beings, incapable of communication, frozen forever in that helpless and dependent state, never to grow up, never to love? And what about the people who have always been deformed or ugly? They never had a satisfactory body they'd want to spend eternity in.
How else could it work? Maybe the all-merciful god allows you to choose what version of your body you will be in forever. That would be fair and democratic, though religion is the least fair and democratic of all human pursuits. What would you choose - that innocent child you were when you were ten, before puberty turned you into a carnal beast? In early middle age, when you're at the apex of your maturity and mental powers? How about in your twenties, when you're at the height of your physical attractiveness? Do you get to choose any appearance you want? Will there be billions of people who all look just like Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz? That would be confusing - "Martha, is that you?" But it could also be pretty hot with all those beautiful bodies everywhere. Oh wait - there's no sex in heaven is there? I think most Judeo-Christians would agree on that. No sweaty angels banging each other. So we can all be young and beautiful, but we can't be attracted to one another or have sex. All those genitalia, just like God's own (He made us in his image, remember) waving around in the celestial breeze but never to be used or even touched. Sorry, I just don't see how resurrection in the flesh can possibly work.
Maybe this is another case where the Bible can't be taken literally. Like most things in the Bible (such as the Ten Commandments), most believers today say that we are free to interpret the Bible; it's a guide, not a rigid law. As a non-believer, I can't understand this. It's either the absolute word of God or it isn't. If it is God's law, how the hell do you have the nerve to say you can interpret it as you wish, even disregard vast portions of its strictures and commandments - who made you God's editor? The Bible says we should kill our children if they disobey us, we should kill or enslave anyone of different religions, and hundreds of other examples of horrific behavior even devout Christians no longer obey. (And if it isn't God's word, then all scripture is a bunch of wishful superstitious fantasy, so that obviously can't be it.) It strikes me odd that each generation of true believers interprets the word of God as they see fit, eliminating commandments they see as outdated or inconvenient. Leaving that aside, let's say this new liberal reading is acceptable. It's okay to make graven images (Catholics especially are big on statues); it's okay to kill if the other guy is black or gay or an atheist, etc. If you think you can toss out some selected commandments, that's fine with me. I certainly don't want Christian sharia law. If every person who committed adultery were stoned to death, there would be damned few folks to read my screeds - or write them.
Okay, so in spite of what the Bible says, we don't resurrect in the flesh. We're some kind of bodiless spirits that float around in the ether. That certainly eliminates a whole lot of awkward questions about eating, grocery stores, and celestial Port-a-cans. Personally, I find it hard to imagine my mind (okay, soul if you insist - same thing) existing without a body. To me, my body is not a container for me - it is me. Who I am is so inextricably interwoven with my body, its experiences and travels and sensations and injuries and tastes and desires, that I can't think of what I would be like without it. I suppose I can imagine my mind being somehow extracted from my body, like uploading it onto a cloud server somewhere - a common science fiction trope. I can even imagine it being downloaded into another body, or a cybernetic body, or even a mechanical body, and my existence continuing. But to be incorporeal forever, with no physical location, no center, no sense organs, no residence, seems inconceivable - and very unappealing.
But I'm not a believer. If I were, apparently this would be the desired state I worked and prayed all my life to attain: having no physical form, unchanging forever, unable to do any of the physical things that make life worthwhile - eating, traveling, going for a swim or a hike, petting a dog, making love. We will be in the presence of God, and that will be enough. I am content.
One thing we know for sure - we'll be surrounded by our loved ones - everybody we cared about in our lives will be there. That's the whole point of heaven. Our deceased parents will be together forever, whether they got along or not, and no matter how shabbily they may have treated each other in life. For better or for worse, whatever parents we got in life, they'll be with us every day forever. Our deceased spouses will be right there, too - all of them. I hope they learn to share and don't mind being your third husband. There are some people I really don't like in this life - I hope they don't end up being my neighbors in Heaven. My idea of heaven might be to spend eternity with my wife, but hers might be to spend it with her first husband, or that cute quarterback from high school. One of us has to be in hell, I guess.
All our ancestors will be there too - every great-great-grandfather and -mother, going all the way back to - what? Our Neanderthal ancestors, Homo erectus? How about the first protozoa? Sure will be crowded. Oh, that's right, all that history and fossil stuff, physics and chemistry and astronomy and that other claptrap - that's just God's little practical joke, piling up overwhelming evidence in every place we look that there is an ancient history, when actually time started six thousand years ago, just a few hundred years after the first ziggurats were built in Mesopotamia. He must have a very good reason to have every shred of evidence point unerringly to the exact same incorrect age of the universe. But that's another rant.
No matter how long ago time started, there are billions of our ancestors up there with us. I certainly hope we all get along, even though their lives and beliefs were so radically different from those of us newcomers. Will they sneer at how easy we had it when we were alive? What will we have in common with our Egyptian or Celtic or African ancestors? We won't even speak the same language. We better not talk politics or religion, and current events would be a bit strange as well. I'd imagine we'd spend the first few millennia just getting the old ones caught up with the news. "Did you say the Goths sacked Rome, young feller?"
But let's put aside all these difficulties and questions - just ignore them like believers do - what would it be like to be in heaven? We won't have any of the things we like to do now - no football on TV, no rock'n'roll, no movies or books, no long walks on the beach, no great dinners with friends, no meeting new people. So what will we do? We'll all be as the angels - perfect beings. We will be perfectly static. Since we're perfect, there will be no need to strive, to travel, to grow, to learn, to improve ourselves. There will be no crime, no accidents, no stress, no disease, no worries - indeed, no news, no events, no change, forever. Not just for hundreds of years or billions of years, but forever and ever, amen. Sounds boring and pointless to me, but I'm only an unbeliever. I guess that sounds good to believers. There are those cool harps, though. Everybody likes listening to harp music.
When you look at it in any detail, any attempt to really grasp it, the whole concept of heaven doesn't work, no matter how ethereal and non-corporeal you try to make it. It can't be imagined. It only works as a concept if it's completely vague. Don't ask all those questions, just believe. It will be wonderful; everyone will be perfectly happy all the time. But that's not the kind of beings we are. I can't imagine a human being who is happy all the time; I can't imagine a large number of people in all the vast variety of humanity all getting along without any conflict.
To me, it's exactly like all the rest of religion. There is not one atom of evidence for any of it. And no, waving around an old book that says it's true is not evidence. There are thousands of mutually contradictory holy scriptures, with different creation myths, rules and regulations, and descriptions of paradise. Because they all say different things, they can't all be right. But they could all be wrong.
Why then do so many people believe in it so strongly? There is only one perfectly obvious answer: because they wish it were so. They see people doing evil and going unpunished, so they want to believe that they will be punished with eternal torment. They see good people suffering and being oppressed, and they want to believe that there is a perfect place where they can live in bliss. They see their loved ones dying, and they want to believe they will be reunited. They see wars and plagues and famines and natural disasters, a vast complicated uncaring universe with no purpose and no justice, and they want to believe in a loving father who loves us and watches over us and has a plan to protect us. And above everything else, they see death riding headlong toward them and they cannot bear the thought that they will soon cease to exist. So they imagine a perfect world in the sky where they will live forever. It is a perfectly reasonable fear and an understandable desire. Who would not want it to be so? Alas, wishing does not make it true. As Mark Twain famously remarked, "Faith is believing what you know ain't true."
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Why Are We Here?
Why Are We Here?
There are certain fundamental questions of
philosophy. What is existence? What was its beginning, and what will be its
end? Does it have a purpose? What is right and wrong? And if we can’t answer those questions, how do
we know right from wrong - how should we live? All these questions depend on answering the one
most basic question of all: Why are we here?
Unless we know this primary answer, we can’t hope to approach any of the
other derivative questions with certainty.
If we don’t know our goal we can’t possibly know what’s important, which
actions advance our purpose and which retard it.
This is very probably one of the first questions humans asked
when we first developed language (perhaps right after “Can I have some of that?
and “Come here often?”) It’s easy
to imagine some early hominid looking up at the stars one night, feeling that same
chill of wonder we’ve all felt, and for the first time wondering where she fit
into it. How big is the world? What are the stars? How did it all begin? Why are we here? Those first philosophers had no way to even
begin to search for answers. But the
desire for answers, the need for an explanation, was so overwhelming, they
invented the world’s first mythologies.
As other cultures sensed the same mysteries, they developed other myths
to answer their questions. What else
could they do? And religions are still
being born every day
As gratifying and comforting (or terrifying) as those myths
were, they had no empirical support – no reason to believe them except the need
to believe in something. They became the
foundation of culture. You learned the
myths of the culture into which you were born and that was the end of it. Some cultures did not permit questioning the
myths, others were more open to doubt, but it made no real difference – one
culture’s guesses were as unverifiable as every other’s. They had no tools to help them determine the
truth.
Remarkably enough, we now have those tools.
Over the millennia since that first question, the situation
has not really changed, but our interpretation of the terms has altered
drastically. The first people to ask it
probably thought of “we” as “you and I” or “our family.” Most tribal cultures think of their tribe as
human beings and all others as something non-human. As populations increased and human
communities grew in size, “we” expanded to refer to a village, a city-state, a
nation, a race. For some enlightened few,
“we” truly means all of humanity. Today
we’re seeing the beginnings of a step beyond even that. Many of us in the 21st century
commonly see ourselves as only incrementally different from other living
things. Earth’s biosphere evolved as a
whole over billions of years, and humans are an integral and inseparable part
of it. We’d die without the biosphere we
were born in – but it would not die without us.
We are only one of many races that inhabit the planet, all voices in the
eternal chorus of life. We can accept
organisms as diverse as viruses, octopuses, tube-worms, and anaerobic bacteria as
our relatives. Rather than “Why are we
here?” it seems most logical now to ask, “Why is life here?”
In an analogous process, the word “here” of the original
question has expanded immeasurably. It
might have started as “this valley” or “our tribe’s land.” As we grew to identify with larger
communities, so our home territory expanded.
Recently most people would have defined “here” as the planet Earth. But there are now people living off the
planet, and by the end of the decade our probes will have visited every planet
in our system. It no longer seems like
science fiction to talk of colonies on the moon or other planets. Even if the rest of the galaxy turns out to
be lifeless, the question of its origin and meaning has lost none of its
relevance. And there are hundreds of billions
of galaxies beyond. If there is sentient life anywhere out there, no matter how different, no matter how separate in
origin, are we not related, if only by experiencing the same universe
together? It may be an immense
geographic leap to push the boundaries of “here” to the edges of the universe,
but it is a small step for philosophy.
So if we (some of us) have now advanced to the point where
we can abandon our provincial anthropocentric and geocentric view, then “we”
does not exclude any “they” and “here” allows for no “there.” The question has become even more elemental: “Why
is there something rather than nothing?”
Of course, we can continue to provide answers as the first
philosophers did – by inventing gods and supernatural forces that created
everything and established the rules by which it moves. But this is pure guesswork. No matter how morally or spiritually
satisfying such constructs may be, it is impossible to either prove or disprove
them. Intellectually we are left with no
more certainty or understanding than that puzzled hominid ancestor. We live in an age of reason, in which science
is continually expanding our frontiers and routinely providing us with tools
and knowledge that former ages would have judged as miraculous, magical, divine – or diabolical.
The methods of science have proven undeniably effective at
developing technologies and providing solutions. We can predict the motions of the planets,
travel to other planets, build computers and machines and vehicles that far
exceed the abilities and powers of those who build and use them. Science has been so successful that many of
those seeking answers to the deep questions now turn not to our theologians and
philosophers but to our scientists.
But is this a reasonable expectation? Learned as they are, scientists are only
human, and their methods require them to measure and test. How can we expect them to discern the structure
and history of something as unimaginably ancient and extensive as the entire
universe, let alone address the question of its meaning?
Rather surprisingly, given the physical limitations of our
bodies and minds – tools developed to find food and avoid being food – and our
geographical isolation in a remote backwater spiral arm of a middling galaxy,
we have actually developed techniques that can answer the primal question with
reasonable certainty. It is now possible
to say how we got here, and by extension, why.
One of the most mysterious and ineffable mysteries is the
experience of our own consciousness.
Previously attributed to a soul or some divine spark that set us forever
apart from the “lower” physical and animal world, recent developments in
neuroscience and the ability to map brain activity have found no evidence for
any non-physical component of our existence.
Our consciousness is simply the subjective experience of having a brain
that absorbs and analyzes the various sensory input, governed and influenced by
the subtle mix of chemicals that constantly ebb and flow through our
brains. We have found infinitesimal
gates that open and close on our neurons, allowing only molecules with specific
shapes to pass. Microscopic organic
factories release neurotransmitters and hormones to control sleep and waking, emotions
and urges – even religious feelings – all precisely balanced to better adapt
our bodies to the needs of survival, finding food, and mating. We are far from understanding how it works,
but we can see the machinery. There is
no need to imagine an ineffable spirit that inhabits our minds, a homunculus
sitting in a control room. There is no
control room in the brain, no sensory organs, no ego or will directing its
functioning. Given a brain,
consciousness is what happens.
Where then did the brain come from – how did such a complex
structure arise? That too is easily accounted
for. We can see the progression of brain
development in other animals, from the simplest neural node in a sponge or
flatworm, through progressively more advanced structures, until we reach the
current state of the art, the modern human brain. Our ability to communicate and innovate has
given us technology that has allowed us to cover the planet and even alter its
systems. And yet there is no clear evidence that the human brain is qualitatively different from those of other
mammals, just proportionally larger. The
development of the brain parallels the development of all the other organs and
structures that make up living organisms.
They get more complex and efficient at helping their host bodies to survive,
because their hosts must reproduce. If they fail, that genetic line ceases to exist. Only successful organisms can exist. No will, no purpose, no guiding hand is
necessary.
We understand the principles of genetics, of sexual
reproduction and heredity, of mutation, competition, and evolution. Natural selection answers every question that
can be asked concerning the origins of biological structures, functions, and
complexity. Given a living organism that
can reproduce, evolution inevitably leads to change and increased complexity as
organisms compete and adapt to changing environments. Once the process is started, it will continue
(barring a catastrophic destruction of the Earth itself). We have found evidence of life on Earth 3.5
billion years ago, not long after the planet had cooled after its
formation. Continents have split apart
and smashed together, mountains have been pushed up and eroded away, asteroids
have pummeled the planet, millions of species have arisen, evolved, and gone
extinct - and still that original chain of life continues. It is not inaccurate to say that the first
organism capable of reproducing is still alive.
It is us, in the larger, modern sense - everything that lives.
So we can explain all that came after that first organism
came to be. But doesn’t that first step require
some sort of miracle? How can life have
arisen spontaneously from non-life?
Surprisingly, scientists can now answer even this.
Chemists and physicists have explored the physical nature of
matter and the forces that control it to unprecedented depths, on scales from
the cosmic to the sub-nuclear. There is
good understanding of how subatomic particles interact to make the infinite varieties
of objects we see around us, including ourselves. But what are these particles – what are they
made of and where did they come from?
The problem is analogous to one in geometry. Given a set of unprovable assumptions (a
point has position but no dimensions; a line always ends in two points, etc.),
complex proofs can be constructed to build unshakable logical constructs that
have both beauty and utility. But why
are these axioms as they are? In
mathematics no answers have been found.
But in physics the axioms have been reduced to what is known as the “six
numbers” - the mass of an electron, the relative strengths of the basic forces,
and so forth. With the values they have,
all the complex interactions can be explained.
But if any of these numbers were even slightly different, the universe
as we know it could not exist – it could not form atoms, or stars, or living
organisms, for instance. But why are all
the numbers “just right?” The best
available answer seems to be a combination of the “many worlds” hypothesis and
the anthropic principle - there are many universes and ours is constructed with
just the right values because if it weren’t we wouldn’t be here. While some may find this explanation
unsatisfactory, it meets all the requirements of a scientific theory and the
answers were derived from some solutions to the equations of general
relativity, which have been proven right in every test ever conceived in over a
century of trying, and which make predictions that have proved true in every
case.
No satisfactory explanation has ever been provided for the
axioms of geometry. We simply hold them
to be self-evident. But in the realm of
physics it is a different story. General relativity laid the groundwork. It has been refined, but in spite of the best
efforts of rigorous skeptics, the equations of relativity have withstood every
challenge for over a century. After some
periods of stagnation, work is currently advancing rapidly in this field. Some researchers are working toward a Grand
Unified Theory – a set of equations whose solutions will determine all six of these
numbers – and therefore provide proof that our understanding is verifiably
correct. The recent confirmed discovery
of the Higgs boson went a long way toward validating this approach to
understanding the nature of existence.
And what is the truth these theories reveal? That a universe can spring out of literally
nothing, create all of space and all of time, sprout eleven dimensions, expand by
1078 times in the first 10-32 seconds, and evolve life, with no causal event. Given the
laws we have discovered, once this event occurs, we will have a vast amount of
energy that will condense into very large quantities of hydrogen, about a
quarter of it fused into helium, and all under the influence of gravity, which
tries to draw it into interaction.
John Dobson – astrophysicist, defrocked monk, and inventor
of the eponymous telescope mount that revolutionized amateur astronomy – said
it most succinctly: “What do you get if you have lots of hydrogen under the
influence of gravity for a long time?
Us.” Every step on the path is
understood in its general principles: atoms into molecules, molecules into more
complex molecules, molecules capable of reproducing themselves, living
organisms, intelligence. Great variation
is possible – the current result could not have been foretold – but not
infinite variation. The six numbers
limit the process – stars can only become so big, planets will form around them
in certain ways, atmospheres and energy cycles will arise within certain
parameters. Given those six numbers,
life is inevitable.
So the great
questions are answered. We know what
existence is, how it started and how it became the way we find it now. We could now tell that awe-struck hominid why
we are here. And God is not required. Just as we gave up believing in Thor and
Vulcan when we understood thunder and lightning, we no longer need a god to
explain our existence. While no
scientific experiment could prove God does not exist, we can explain every
mystery without recourse to the supernatural. God can be eliminated, his throat slit by Occam’s Razor.
Is this universe we finally understand satisfying? We have learned we are small and
insignificant, a mote in the eye of a universe so immense in space and time
that we and all our works shrink to an infinitesimal spark in a vast fire. Is it cold and meaningless with no God
lovingly tending it? Many will say
so. People feel the needle of their
moral compass must strain toward some pole, some underlying moral code now
inextricably bound up with religious belief.
If there is no God, there are no morals.
It is only the fear of damnation to your particular cultural nightmare
that keeps us from moral anarchy.
But there is no reason for morals and ethics, the sense of
correct behavior, to be in any way connected with ancient creation myths. In fact it is precisely because of those myths
that we are so violent and fractious. When
Sunnis kill Shias, when Christians kill Muslims, when Protestants bomb
Catholics, we outsiders can’t tell them apart.
People see these religions as comfortable, stabilizing belief systems
that contribute to good behavior. But in
fact they are the exact opposite. There
is no evidence that religious people are less violent or cruel or selfish,
especially to anyone other than their co-religionists. The beliefs contribute to divisiveness,
violence, intolerance, and resistance to the acceptance of proven facts like
evolution and anthropogenic climate change.
They are as real and verifiable as gravity or electricity. The science is not controversial. No one would question these discoveries for a
second if they did not conflict with somebody’s scripture. There is a T-shirt that says, “Science flies
us to the moon. Religion flies us into
buildings.”
We’ve relegated Thor and Zeus and Jove into the realm of
fiction, charming folktales from a simpler, more ignorant time. Isn’t it time for Jehovah and Allah and all the rest to join
them?
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