Is Science Becoming a Religion?

Science, as an ideal, is very far from religion, but SOME of the INSTITUTIONS of science

take on a decidedly episcopal, very unscientific, structure.  Those institutions

are run by money rather than the search for scientific facts, and the competition

can be fierce.  Scientists can troll each other at a very sophisticated level.

Science depends largely on government funding, which means that you and I

have our money confiscated for "the good" of science.  Indeed, researchers

openly solicit "grant-writers" to apply for funding, because they know that a

good grant-writer can secure lots of money to research the mating habits of

the purple-breasted sap-sucker, whereas an unskilled grant-writer might not secure

modest funding to develop a high probability cure for cancer. 

Political connections also dominate science.  Some scientists have suddenly found

themselves locked out of research because they asked too many embarrassing questions.

For example, any climatologist who even innocently questions some of the data

concerning the IPCC will be quickly silenced, threatened with loss of livelihood,

which explains why "ALL" climatologists affirm that manmade global warming is on the rise,

no matter what the fluctuations in the weather are.  Money.

AIDS research was corrupted from the beginning, when US researchers plagiarized the

research of less well-connected French researchers.  Thereafter, if a patient died of

AIDS, it was because he had not followed the protocol, and if he survived, it was

because he had (even if he had not).  African governments quickly began diagnosing

malaria patients as HIV-infected, because large amounts of money quickly poured

in when they so reported.  The clinical definition of AIDS was changed when it was

discovered that not enough women were diagnosed as HIV-positive, so as to satisfy the

feminist activists.  Money.

These are just two examples.  There are many more.

It is the institutions of science, and the people who run them, not science itself, that is corrupt.
 

All bow before the priests of so-called science, or lose your funding.

Quantum Travel (A Science Fiction Story)

Quantum Travel (A Science Fiction Story)

--by Robert Arvay

We finally did it!  We managed to achieve instantaneous space-travel across vast cosmic distances.  We got from our planet, Earth, to a galaxy so far away that its light can never reach us.  Now, we’re back, and do we ever have a story to tell.

Don’t worry, we are not going to get deep into the physics, but only into the fun part of science (I promise you’ll like it).  Instead of hard physics, there is a different field of science that we explored on our trip, but let’s not even get into that, just yet.  By the end of the story, you will have figured it out for yourself.

There we were, in our space ship, which was named, Queen Elizabeth.  At first, it had been named, Quantum Entanglement, and this had been abbreviated to QE, and then some people mistakenly thought—well, you get the idea.  So, we just changed the name, and everyone was happy.

In all the vastness of the universe, our telescopes had never detected an earth-duplicate planet, what is called a twin earth.  This was very disappointing.  All the fans of Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, Captain Kirk and Luke Skywalker, had hoped that great adventures lay before us.  That hope seemed to have been dashed.

Wait.  There was still a chance.  Telescopes can see only so much, and it takes light millions of years to reach us from deep space.  Billions of planets remained to be detected.  What if there were a better way to find a Twin Earth (TE)?

There is.  It goes by the fancy name of Quantum Entanglement, which simply put, means that everything is connected to everything else, tangled up, in such a way, that under some conditions, two things can just change places with each other, instantaneously, without travelling through the intervening distance.  This means that we can, as we already said, travel across vast cosmic distances in an instant.

At first, the idea was just speculation, but science has a strange way of turning speculation into technology.  That’s what happened with Dick Tracy’s fictional two-way, wrist-radio, which became the cell phone of today.  It’s what happened with Robbie the Robot, from Forbidden Planet, which became—well, Robbie the Robot.

At first, only unmanned drones, powered by quantum entanglement, were sent into our galaxy, in search of Earth-like planets.  They found plenty of them, but none of them was a Twin Earth (TE).  That was a huge disappointment.  There were thousands of planets very similar to earth, but none of them were similar enough.  It seems that the planet Earth has millions upon millions of things that make it hospitable enough for us to live on.  Scientists had hoped that, just by chance alone, at least one of the billions of planets in the galaxy would be earth-like enough for us to inhabit and prosper.

When that did not turn out to be the case, scientists were incredulous.  How could this be?  It turns out that, mathematically, the chances of getting a hundred coin flips to come out all heads (on the first try) is as close to zero as any gambler ever gets—unimaginably close to zero.  To get millions of dice rolls to come out all sevens (on the first try) is even less likely, and—well, you get the idea.  Try finding the two proverbial snowflakes that look exactly the same.  That was what it was like trying to find a planet that, just by chance, happened to be a twin of Earth.  It was not happening.

We did not give up.  If we could not find an Earth twin in our own galaxy, well, there are plenty of other galaxies, a hundred billion of them, each with hundreds of billions of planets in them.  Surely, our quantum space drones would find what we were looking for.  We looked forward to finding many thousands of twin Earths.  The odds seemed to favor it.

The nice thing about quantum entanglement is that distance is no obstacle.  We were quickly able to send drones to galaxy after galaxy, and report back on what they found.  And yes, they did find planets that were remarkably like earth.  Remarkably.  But remarkably close is not close enough.  It’s like finding the almost perfect spouse for yourself, a spouse who has only one flaw, only one—that of being a serial axe-murderer.

Every planet we found had at least one flaw, but it was always a fatal one, one which made it impossible for that planet to sustain a prosperous colony that humans would wish to live on.

Just as things seemed too dismal to continue, someone came up with a brilliant idea.  Why not quantum travel to a planet beyond the light horizon—to a planet so far away, that the light from its galaxy can never reach us?  The very thought seemed scary, like crossing a vast ocean in a raft with no knowledge of what might be on the other side.

We decided to try it, and sure enough, after an exhausting search, one of the drones reported back a finding that seemed too good to be true.  It reported finding a planet so similar to present-day earth that it was all but an exact copy.  And the news got even better.  Further analysis showed that the planet showed signs of being inhabited—by human-like people.  One photograph showed what was unmistakably a modern city. 

After that, however, there were no further signs of life.  There were no radio transmissions, no television signals, and nothing that seemed to be artificial communications of any kind.

Speculation abounded.  How could we explain a planet that seemed to have cities, but no people?  Some said that a catastrophe had killed the population, perhaps a plague, or radiation from a nearby star that had exploded.  Others said that maybe everyone had just left for another galaxy.  Others said that maybe they had invented a technology that allowed them to take spiritual form, and abandon the need for physical bodies.  There was no end to the speculation.  We needed facts.

To get those facts, we sent more drones, but for technical reasons, they could not provide any additional, helpful information.  Nothing.  The planet seemed to be a twin earth, a place to which we could send humans and establish a thriving colony, but there was one overriding worry:  was it an axe-murderer?  What had removed the population, and would it strike again?

Was it a forbidden planet?  Dared we go there?

We decided to risk it.  It was just too good to pass up.  A number of us volunteered to get aboard an experimental quantum-travelling space ship.  It was an amazing technological advance, something straight out of a science fiction story.

We named it the QE, and others named it the Queen Elizabeth, and the name stuck.

The QE space ship was by no means a luxury liner.  Compared to the ocean-going vessel of the same name, our QE was more like an out-rigger canoe, but then hey, the Polynesians did amazing things with their out-rigger canoes, and we felt the pioneer spirit.  We were eager to risk our lives to be the first to personally explore TE (Twin Earth), although I confess, we were more enthusiastic about the explore part than the risk our lives part.  Even so, given the choice, we went.

The big day finally came.  Well, actually, it was not so big.  There was no fanfare, no adoring crowds, no speeches or musical bands, no breaking of champagne bottles, none of that.  The people who had approved the mission had a strong suspicion that we were all doomed, and they needed plausible deniability if things went terribly wrong.

We boarded the QE, closed the hatches, and well, pushed a button or two, and for the few people who witnessed the launch, we just disappeared for a second, then reappeared.  They thought something had gone wrong, but it hadn’t.  We returned with an amazing report.

During that one second of earth time that we had been gone, our mission had actually taken several days.  We first knew that we had succeeded in reaching TE (Twin Earth), when we found ourselves in orbit around the planet.  Not being exactly an out-rigger canoe (okay, I am prone to exaggeration at times), our sensors displayed to us an awesome planet-scape.  It looked just like earth, except for the layout of the continents and oceans—but there were indeed, continents and oceans, and water-vapor clouds, and greenery!  The atmosphere registered as earth-like, with oxygen and carbon-dioxide and nitrogen in earth-like proportions.

The next step was to board our landing module, a small space-craft that could safely take us to the surface of the planet—we hoped.  How would we be received, if anyone still inhabited the planet?  All kinds of thoughts ran through our heads, but still, this was the chance of a lifetime, and we threw caution to the winds.  At least that’s what we say now.  At the time—well, never mind.

We boarded the landing module, and departed from the QE.

When the landing module reached the surface, we felt a small thud, and then the doors opened.  Then, just like in the movie, Galaxy Quest (it’s amazing how similar fiction can be to, okay, fiction), we all screamed, at the guy who opened the door, hey you idiot, what if the atmosphere is poison or something, but it was just like earth’s atmosphere.  Yeah, we already knew that.

So, throwing caution to the winds, because we had to, we stepped out of the landing module and onto Twin Earth.  It was a great moment.  We should have said something historic, like one small step for a man, but the first one out was a woman.  So instead, we just said, wow, look at that.

We had landed near a city that looked just like any big city on Earth, with tall buildings, and overpasses and stuff.  Instead of being in the city, we were in a suburb, a nice residential neighborhood.  Again, it could have been any nice residential neighborhood on Earth.  It had one and two-story houses, paved roads that ended in cul-de-sacs, trees and shrubs—just like on earth.

Nobody had seen us land, and we wondered when we would meet up with the first Twin-Earther alien.  Actually, we were the aliens, and we hoped we wouldn’t get arrested.

And so, there ends our story.  We didn’t find anyone, but we knew that whoever had lived in those houses looked a lot like us, because we found vehicles that we could comfortably sit in, although we did not know how to drive them.

Oh, there is one more part to the story. 

After traveling about in our landing module, touring the planet, we started finding things that looked crazy.  We found houses with no doors or windows.  We found roads that began in a tree trunk, and ended in another tree trunk.  We found an office building that was sitting in the middle of a pond, half submerged.  The farther we got from the city we had seen from orbit, the less sense things made.  We found buildings that were half-completed, it seemed, but they looked more like piles of rubble that had been scooped together by a giant hand, sort of like toy building blocks haphazardly arranged by a child.

We put all our observations—photographs, spectrographs and other measurements of every kind—into our onboard computer, trying to understand who or what might have built such a city, and then abandoned it.  Was it some sort of game?  A movie set?  An experiment?  Bait for a trap?

Finally, between us and the computer, we came to the most likely conclusion:  it was all chance.

What?  What kind of answer is that?

But, think about it.  In the vastness of the cosmos, there are millions of chances for nature to accidentally arrange things that look like they were purposely made, but were not.  There used to be a rock formation in New Hampshire, USA, called, the Old Man of the Mountain, because it looked amazingly as if the rocks which composed it had been intentionally arranged to look like, well, an old man of the mountain.

In an infinite universe, there will be an infinite variety of regions, each of which is subject to the rules of chance.  The city we found was just that, but even chance has its limits, and so, the planet and its city had been the unlikely outcome of chance—but the farther we got from the city, the more random the buildings became, until finally, there was only wilderness.

There remains only one question unanswered.  It involves the science that we promised would be fun.  What is chance? 

Chance says that if I roll two dice, there is one chance in six that the total of the dice-roll will be seven.  But whereas dice-rolls are governed by chance, the dice themselves are not random.  Dice are not made by chance.  They do not have random numbers of sides.  They can have as few as four sides, or more than four, many more, but somebody designed them. 

Dice are purposefully designed, and only after that can they be used in games of chance.  What is it that purposefully designed the universe?

Randomness, then, can operate only within non-random parameters.

So, as you have guessed for yourself by now, even if the universe is governed by chance, the laws of chance (call them the dice) are themselves not random.  Things inside the universe may be random, so that even the most unlikely combinations of events can happen.  Entire cities can come together due to random chance.

The universe, however, like dice, is not random.  It is intentionally designed.

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Can the Human Brain ever understand Quantum Physics?

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For years, I have tried to follow the back-and-forth debates between physicists regarding "quantum theory" and "local realism."  I remain a bystander in these debates.

Someone named Patel drew my attention to the link, https://www.closertotruth.com/series/why-the-quantum-so-strange

This article, along with others, makes me think that physics, and quantum physics in particular, is not a natural "fit" for the human brain (apart from consideration of the mind.)

The Nobel-prize-winning physicist, Leon Lederman, speculated that the human brain may not yet have "evolved" (his word), to the point where it can understand physics.

Lederman's statement (here I go, criticizing my betters) is very contrary to Darwinism, which states that evolution has no direction, no purpose, no goal.  It is purely driven by random changes in the genome which sometimes enhance survivability.

Therefore, the human brain (apart from the mind!) can never "evolve" an understanding of physics unless two things occur:  random mutation and increased survivability.

Neither of these seem to operate in the brain's understanding of physics.

They do operate in intelligence, but quantum physicists do not seem to procreate in large numbers and then selectively enhance their survival by making advances in physics.  (That is almost a parody, is it not?)

The mind, however, is a different matter.  It can guide evolution, and it operates the brain as a musician operates his violin.  My violin is not a Stradivarius, so I will never understand even basic quantum theory.

The inability of physicists, after more than a hundred years of intense study by geniuses, to agree on quantum physics, and to reconcile it with Relativity Theory, is a profound demonstration that the human brain is not structured in a way that enables it to achieve these goals.

I still continue to be fascinated, and baffled, by the debates between those who promote the Copenhagen Interpretation, and those who reject it, because it not only humbles me, but I think it reveals something profound about both the universe and the human condition.

Quantum Theory needs its own Einstein:  someone who can go where no man has gone before, and lead others to a new paradigm in physics.

Will he be welcomed?

 

 

Seeking and Finding

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One of the few advantages of metaphysics over physics is freedom.  We are free to explore ideas that physicists are not free to explore, at least not within their domain as physicists.

This freedom, however, is not a valid excuse for sloppy thinking.  Precisely because we rely more on thinking than on experimentation, our thinking is required to be careful, methodical and rigorously disciplined.  These are attributes that are not commonly assigned to philosophy, but they should be.

Now for the main point:

In our assertions, there are varying degrees of certainty which we can claim.  In descending order, these are:

Absolute certainty (I think; therefore I am).

Certainty beyond a reasonable doubt:  Dissenting views are implausible, even foolish.  Flying unicorns may exist, but I assert that they do not.

Strongly probable:  The world will still be here tomorrow.  It could end, but I’m still going to plant the crop.

Possible:  World War 3 may break out this year or next, or in our lifetime.  I can’t prevent it, and I’m not going to build a bomb shelter, but perhaps I could keep my pantry stocked.

Unlikely:  My book may sell well this year.  I’ll try to promote it, but I’m not mortgaging the farm to finance a marketing campaign.

Very unlikely:  The world may end tomorrow, so I will spend all my money on a party tonight.

Impossible:  I will invent a perpetual motion machine.

The standard of scientific proof is to be able to persuade a reasonable skeptic.

The standard in metaphysics is to persuade a reasonable skeptic of where your assertions fit on the scale of degrees of certainty, listed above.

If you correctly identify where your metaphysical assertions (or speculations) fit on such a scale, then you are much better equipped to discuss them, and to know how strongly to defend them.

It also helps you to identify the strengths and weaknesses of other peoples’ assertions, and to engage in fruitful discussions about them, and to learn from those assertions, whether or not you dispute them.

I think that it is strongly probable that my statements in regard to all this are correct.

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Is Political Bias Ruining Science?

Science junkie that I am, I enjoy reading science articles written for laymen like me, the titles of which might be, Science for Idiots, or something like that.  Being informed about science, and being able to think rationally, are interlinked, in my view.

You might think that scientists, especially renowned physicists and cosmologists, would be solidly objective, dispassionate seekers of truth (or, as they prefer to call it, facts).  I like to think that most of them are. 

We might be wrong about that.  

If we are (wrong that is), then that portends a serious flaw in a great institution—that of science.  Upon that institution depends much of our intellectual capital, and therefrom, our future technological ability—to survive as a world power.  If the great scientists are so blinded by personal opinion that their blindness hampers their scientific judgment, we are in trouble.

I recently viewed an online lecture by a well-known physicist, Dr. Lawrence Krauss.  His lecture is about his book, which is even more aptly named than he realizes:  Hidden Realities: The Greatest Story Ever Told.. So Far.

The hidden reality of which Krauss intends to speak involves physics, but the one which he reveals is his obsession with Trump-hatred, and it appears, Jesus-hatred.  The lecture was given shortly after the 2016 presidential election, and clearly, Krauss had not gotten over the trauma of seeing the defeat of one of the most treacherous politicians of our lifetime.  He demonstrated his irrationality by inserting into his lecture his open disdain for the President, and did so to the cheers of a foreign audience.

Krauss is by no means alone in his inability to keep his personal opinions out of his science lectures.  The once-venerable magazine, Scientific American, has for years drifted toward leftism, and seems no longer able to think clearly about planetary meteorology.

Much of the corruption in science, be it financial, academic or political, is in my view connected to the atheistic philosophy which scientists have adopted as far back as Charles Darwin.  We must be careful here, not to conflate science, the pursuit of truth wherever the evidence leads, with physicalism, the philosophy that says that nothing exists except the physical.

The more refined version of physicalism is much more rational than atheism.  Physicalism simply says that there is no falsifiable (i.e., independently verifiable) proof that God does, or does not exist.  Many scientists, however, go far beyond that open-minded version, and reveal not only their insistent atheism, but even an overt hostility to the very idea of a divine, intercessionist Creator.

 

The irony is that, science itself is finding more and more evidence that the physicalist philosophy has fatal defects.  One by one, bits of evidence are building up.  In some articles by science-journalists, it is becoming clear that physicalists are increasingly resorting to more tenuous arguments to prop up their false philosophy, not only on scientific grounds, but on political ones as well.

To their chagrin, more and more Americans are recognizing that there is no legitimate, scientific basis for dehumanizing unborn children.  The arguments for abortion are no longer biological, they are purely ideological. 

Regarding evolution, it is becoming less tenable to describe human beings as being an upgraded version of chimpanzees (or more precisely, of a common forebear).  DNA studies cannot bridge that gap.

Cosmology cannot explain why the universe has the extremely unlikely properties that make it suitable for life, except by proposing an even less likely multi-verse.

Quantum physics is gradually eroding the physicalist paradigm.  The evidence is moving toward the notion that the universe is not essentially physical, but mental, and by implication, spiritual. 

We are not there yet, but the trend is discernible.  Along the way, the real danger is that the search for scientific truth may be derailed by irrational ideology.  If there is no fool like an old fool, there may be no idiot like one with a PhD after his name.

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Things Are Indeed What They Seem

Most of us have been brought up on such adages as, “things are not always what they seem to be,” and, “never judge a book by its cover.”

While not disputing the need for caution, the need for prudent skepticism, there is also a need not to completely trust those who tell us not to completely trust.  Those people sometimes tell us, quite convincingly at times, that we should trust them, or at least their methods, and that we should disbelieve our lying eyes.

A major example of this involves the physicalist explanations of why the universe, and everything in it, seems to be intelligently designed.

For us lesser beings, the simple, straightforward answer to the question is that, the universe seems to be intelligently designed, because it is (intelligently designed). 

Intelligent design explains why life is not an unlikely outcome of blind, indifferent forces (or an accidental feature) of nature.  Rather, the universe is intentionally designed to support life.  Consciousness does not arise from those same happenstance features of that same unguided nature, but if anything, it is the other way around:  consciousness (like life) is a fundamental basis of nature.  Free will is not an illusion, an illusion that forces us to believe it is not an illusion.  Free will is the ability to choose, an ability that is forbidden if we are to regard nature as a chain of cause and effect.

All of these are what seems to be.

Physicalists, however, dispute intelligent design of nature.  They admit that the universe is intricately suited to support life, civilization and technology (even if it turns out to be the case for only our one planet).  They deny, however, that all of this came about by intentional design.  Instead, they assert, it all came about by random chance.

Now wait a minute, they say, random chance is too unlikely a cause, if there were only one universe.  It would become much more likely, they tell us, if there is an unlimited supply of universes, what they call a multi-verse.  An explosion in a print shop is unlikely to produce an encyclopedia, but if you have unimaginable kazillions of explosions in unimaginable kazillions of print shops, night and day for unimaginable kazillions of years, then the chance of such an unlikely encyclopedia (universe) as ours, occurring by chance, approaches one hundred percent.

At first, their theory seems plausible, until one examines it further.

Their explanation does not, and cannot, explain the origin of their supposed multi-verse.  It cannot explain why the multi-verse is configured so as to produce what they call, “bubble universes,” one of which is ours.  It does not answer the question of why there is a print shop, and why there are letters and words and sentences for the shop to utilize in printing.

Therefore, even if there is a multi-verse, it, too, must be intelligently designed.  You simply cannot escape the inescapable conclusion that, in this case at least, things are indeed what they seem to be.

 

Why, then, do physicalists so adamantly deny that the universe is intelligently designed?  What evidence could they have that makes them ignore that even a multi-verse must be designed?

Their denial of intentional design is motivated, in my opinion, by what they feel is a necessity to deny the Designer.  Physicalism does not, per se, deny God, but rather, simply denies that there is any compelling physical evidence for God.  Physicalism could endure a revelation that God is the Creator of physical reality, but only so long as God, having created nature, thereafter stays out of the picture.  Albert Einstein seems to have taken up this view of a “clockwork” universe, a view in which God (the clock-maker) designed, built, and “wound up” the universe, set it into motion, and then stepped away from it, allowing it to follow its own course.  Einstein disavowed an interventionist or intercessory God.

If God intervenes, or if we intervene via our power of free will, then physicalism collapses; it ceases to be a reasonable explanation for physical phenomena.  If consciousness does not arise from lifeless atoms, but from a source outside of (or above) physical nature, then physicalism cannot explain what it purports to explain (everything).  If life is a foundational purpose of physical nature, then physical nature is not entirely physics.  Indeed, if physical nature has a plan, purpose and meaning, then physics becomes a secondary reality—a creation of a higher reality—a subordinate science, not the “king” of all science.

If there is a God, then no longer can natural philosophy hold that, “man is the measure of all things.”  Instead, the measure of all things, of good, of evil, of morality or immorality—is set for us by God.  If so, then we are obliged to obey Him, indeed, to worship Him. 

Atheist secularists are aghast at such concepts.  They cannot accept them.  They will not.  Worship?  Never!  Subordinate our desires to His will?  Over our dead bodies!

Physicalists do not merely deny God, they do not merely defy Him, they dread Him.  This was displayed when Hubble first announced that the universe is expanding.  While today, that is considered a scientific fact by physicalist atheists, it was initially denied by them—not on the basis of objective evidence, but on the basis of an atheist bias.  How so?  Prior to Hubble’s announcement, the prevailing theory in cosmology was the Steady State Theory, a theory which declared that the universe had no beginning.

Hubble destroyed that theory.  It was because the undeniable implication of an expanding universe is that, tracing backward through time, all the galaxies were, at one time compressed into one place.  From that one place, they began the expansion which we see today, a beginning known as the Big Bang Theory.

But wait.  If the universe had a beginning, that seemed to validate the opening three words of the (English language) Bible, “In the beginning.”  And how else could there be a beginning except for the first five words of that Bible, “In the beginning, God created . . .”?

In other words, physical evidence can be denied by physicalists, at least temporarily, if it does not uphold their previously established beliefs.  This is called, bias, and it is rampant in society, including too often, in science.

The universe seems to be expanding.  It seems to have had a beginning.  It seems to have been intentionally designed to support life, civilization and technology.  It seems to be founded in life, consciousness and free will.  It seems to have planning, purpose and meaning.

Things are indeed, what they seem.

What is the Ultimate Reality?

One of the most important questions in metaphysics—some would say the only question—Involves the nature of reality.  What is reality?  What, if anything, gives rise to reality?  What if there were only nothingness instead of reality?

As we can quickly see, these questions do not lend themselves to any quick, easy answer.  They involve deep thought, inward reflection, and perhaps most importantly of all, discussion.

Let’s specifically deal with the question of ultimate reality.

Many metaphysicians say that the ultimate reality is consciousness.  There is good reason for that.  Consciousness is the one thing which any conscious person knows exists.  Indeed, all else that is known, is known only as it reaches (or arguably originates in) consciousness.

There are other candidates for being the ultimate reality.  These include God, STEM (space-time-energy-mass), Cosmic Strings (as in String Theory), Love, and numbers.

Numbers, or let us say, mathematics, are a candidate for several reasons.  First, mathematics is the most exact of exact sciences.  In mathematics, there is no room for opinion.  On the other hand, numbers are the most abstract of concepts.  The number “seven” does not exist in nature, unless it is a measure of something.  This seems to be a contradiction, but then, who says that ultimates are easily understood?

STEM (space-time-energy-mass) is another candidate.  Everything of which we are aware involves at least one of the four constituents of STEM.  We cannot imagine there being no time, or no space.  STEM is not, however, four separable things.  Space-time and energy-mass are unified with each other through mathematical relationships.

Cosmic Strings are said to be the ultimate constituents of the universe, but they are so small, that there is considered to be no hope of ever proving that they exist.  Therefore, although string theory seeks to be the ultimate scientific explanation of physical reality, it defies the basic rules of scientific evidence.

Love may not be a metaphysical concept in the strict sense, but what would reality be without it?


Perhaps the most controversial candidate for being the ultimate reality is God.  God is unknowable.  He is said to be the unknowable essence, the innermost reality that gives rise to all of reality.  He is said to love us with infinite love, yet when we see (or experience) suffering, cruelty and tragedy, we cannot easily (or at all) reconcile those with Him.

Not mentioned before is the concept that some people have, the concept that there is no ultimate reality at all.  In this concept, commonly expressed as, “It’s turtles all the way down,” there is an endless hierarchy of ever more basic principles, and perhaps, ever higher levels of existence.

Finally, there is the worldview that many, perhaps most, people seem to have, which is that there is no point at all in even thinking about metaphysics.  Life, truth, beauty—good and evil—none of these is worth thinking about.  For such people, life consists of daily survival, material security, and then proceeding toward luxuries.  Power, if it can be had, might be ruthlessly pursued and exercised.

This commentary has not, of course, intended to answer the question.  I hope you have found something in it worth thinking about.

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Excerpts from a Discussion on Whether we have Free Will

In my many discussions about free will (whether we have it) I am truly amazed that there are people who say that we do not.  I cannot imagine anyone living his life believing that he has no control over what he says, thinks, or does.  I also find that it is difficult to get them to answer direct questions with direct (or even intelligible) answers, even though these people seem to be intelligent.

What follows are excerpts from a recent online discussion:

I said:

If a philosophical proposition leads unavoidably to absurd conclusions,
then while we may not be able to empirically disprove it, the unavoidable absurd conclusions
render that proposition pointless.

To say that we have no free will is to say that we have no choice as to whether or not

we believe that we have free will.

It regards us as mere puppets of causation.

It characterizes us as witnesses to our own lives, but not participants.

It removes any basis for personal accountability for our actions.

It equates the coward with the hero, the criminal with the law-abiding citizen.

It makes of us

[Quoting from Shakespeare’s Macbeth]
 

a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

from Act 5, Scene 5

J said,

I blame myself [for not persuading you]

I responded:

No!  How can you blame yourself for something that you did not willingly choose to do?

Oh, I see.  You cannot help yourself.

This is not to troll you, it is simply to substantiate what I said before.

Absurd conclusions are pointless.

If in fact I am a helpless slave (or whatever word you prefer) to causation,

I am incapable of recognizing that,
or am forced by causation to recognize that, but in neither case
could I make any useful results from it.

Quoting you, with apologies,

This is the part I have never succeeded in conveying to somebody who holds your particular view

= = = = =

The primary evidence against free will is in the physicalist principle of inexorable cause and effect.

In that principle, every cause is an effect of a preceding cause (or complex of causes).
There is never an option, because there is never a sovereign, independent free agent
who can override the preceding cause(s) and effect a different outcome.

The evidence for free will begins with the observation that we are conscious,

and physicalism has no certainty about what consciousness is, nor of its
relationship to physical events.  Therefore, it cannot but deny free will.

I often refer to JBS Haldane's insightful quote on the matter, which is,

If materialism is true, it seems to me that we cannot know that it is true.

If my opinions are the result of the chemical processes going on in my brain,
they are determined by the laws of chemistry, not those of logic.

Note that Haldane claimed to be a materialist-atheist, and he disdained the

idea underlying the independent agency of free will, even though his
quote opens the door to it.

The arguments for free will are the arguments against physicalism.

= = = = =

I cannot empirically prove that you have free will.

I can only point out that if you do not have free will,
then you are a bio-robot, a witness to your own life,
but not a participant.

If we ever discover that we are automatons,

then what use can we make of that knowledge?

= = = = =

Why make this so complicated?

Are you saying that you never choose your actions?
Or are there times when you do?

= = = = =

 J said:

But, you keep avoid[ing] my point. Do  you remember saying that my use of language that implies choice proves your point? I've asked you if the same goes for 'silly' Christians who speak of Eternity with language that implies time/space? Of course you don't play that game on them.

 
I responded:

This is getting into semantics.  You said: 'silly' Christians. . . Of course you don't play that game on them.

I'm not playing games.  I'm asking a simple, binary question, to which the answer should at least

BEGIN with a "Yes" or "No," after which explanatory modifiers might be called for.

The closest I have seen you come to a direct answer is

nothing suggests that  1) I select the options i'm supposedly choosing between

Supposedly choosing? 

This is moving from exploratory discussion toward rhetorical debate, which I tend to avoid.

My suspicion is that you have a philosophical belief in which free will has no place,
but you do not wish to define yourself as a helpless phenomenon of causation.

I have a different philosophical belief.  I believe that life, consciousness and free will are

fundamentals of physical existence, which are also three attributes of the Creator (God).

I cannot, of course, empirically prove any of this, nor am I able to persuade anyone of it,

but only to suggest that they give it a try, and see if it benefits them.

Then, they (ahem) choose.

:)

= = = = =

 

D wrote:

wouldn't its [cosmic consciousness's] individuated aspects in some way be like 'fractals' of that?

I responded:

I would view this in terms of, we are created in the image and likeness of God.

I also view each of us as sovereign, individual entities that live forever.

We are accountable for our deeds and our decisions.

Our moral decisions have eternal consequence, but we are forgiven for

our sins, and need merely to avoid rejecting that forgiveness.

This is all on faith, of course.

Using that as my anchor points, my life has improved dramatically,
even in the midst of misfortune.

=