Search Results

< Back Is It Time for Really New ‘New Math’? David Cowles Jun 3, 2025 “1 + 1 can be more than 2 or less than 2 but it can never equal 2…Jam yesterday (< 2) and jam tomorrow (> 2) but never jam today (= 2).” Remember the ‘old math’ - ‘rithmetic, taught with a (hopefully metaphorical) hickory stick? Meet the ‘new math’ (scourge of Gen Xers) – same as the old math! ( The Who ) Boomers can at least make change, albeit with ‘fear and trembling’, while Xers just shrug and say whatever ! In this article, I hope to demonstrate that the purported differences between new and old math are superficial at best, imaginary at worst, and that neither has any applicability in the Real World. Today’s math, new and old, is based on premises that I contest. Let’s start with something simple: 1 + 1 = 2… not! 1 + 1 can be more than 2 or less than 2 but it can never equal 2. In fact, 2 is the only value for 1 + 1 that we can exclude ab initio . As in Carroll’s Looking-glass World, there’s jam yesterday (< 2) and jam tomorrow (> 2) but never jam today (= 2). Of course, according to the system known as old/new math, 1 + 1 = 2 just because we say so in our best imitation of a 1950’s parent. And we’re perfectly entitled to do just that! And we have built a magnificent intellectual edifice based on it! And that’s A-Okay, as long as we don’t imagine we’ve created anything relevant to anything real. Math (old or new) is Minecraft! So what’s wrong with 1 + 1 = 2? How could any sane person even question it? (Please don’t answer that, at least not until you’ve read what’s coming.) First, ‘one’ is not a number; it’s a way of referring to an atomic entity, i.e. a quantum of the Real World. It’s roughly equivalent to ‘that’ or ‘this’. There’s nothing in the Real World that corresponds to the number one in math. How could there be? There’s no such thing as a being in isolation, not even (trinitarian) God . Think about quarks in a sub-atomic particle. They cannot exist in isolation. “Three quarks for muster mark.” (James Joyce) And even if an isolated unit of being were possible in some real world, which it is not, ‘1’ would still not properly belong in any number system with aspirations to apply to real events. Case in point : an Amazonian tribe, the Piranha , have no math…and they do not have the concept of one . Instead they use demonstrative pronouns and adjectives (like this or that ) to designate real entities. The concept of ‘number’ only applies once two or more atomic entities are considered as a group . We can measure such ‘groups’ by their size, i.e. by the number of elements in each group. So it’s possible to imagine, again ab initio , that a group might have a value of ‘2’ if it groups two atomic entities together. R. Buckminster Fuller was fond of saying, “Universe is plural and at minimum two;” but as we shall see, even ‘2’ is not a stable state. To make our so-called ‘number system’ work, we postulate that a group can have a ‘value’ (size) of 1, or 2, or 0, or even ø, but there are no such groupings of elements in the Real World. Math, old and new, is based on the premise that atomic entities, even if they are totally unrelated, can nonetheless be grouped together without impacting in any way the contribution of each element to the ‘size’ or ‘measure’ of that group. Of course, this is impossible in any real world. Any real process of ‘grouping’ must impact the value of the group’s elements. If it doesn’t, there’s no process and there’s no group. Why? The real world Law of Recursion : Every ‘process’ (by definition) must alter the values of its elements. The definition of a ‘process’ is an act that modifies the values of its constituents. Of course, here is where professional mathematicians will part company with us, and that’s ok, so long as they don’t expect us to believe that their ‘ice cream castles in the air’ have anything to do with the Real World. If ‘grouping’ is real, then it must be a ‘process’ applicable to real elements and it must then alter the values of those elements. Therefore, 1 + 1 could never equal 2. Here we are borrowing a concept from Gregory Bateson and extending it: A ‘difference’ is a difference only if it makes a difference! The process of grouping two elements must impact those elements in some way; otherwise ‘the process is inert’, meaning that the ‘alleged process’ is not an ‘actual process ’ at all. I can fantasize about a grouping of 2 or more entities where the process of grouping has no impact on the elements grouped…but that’s exactly what it is, a fantasy. Once grouped, the elements co-modify one another. So the process of recursion is self perpetuating and interminable. Fortunately, however, the process tends toward a limit. But what limit? When two atomic elements are grouped, they interact until they result in a stable, concrete value, a ‘steady state’. That interaction can take either of two forms: Fission or Fusion. (No, this is not a category in Jeopardy .) In the case of fission , the grouping of two atomic units automatically generates a third: 1, 1, and (1, 1). (In Trinitarian theology, the Holy Spirit ‘proceeds from the Father and the Son’; likewise, (1, 1) proceeds from 1 and 1.) So the minimum quantitative value of a group assembled via the procession of fission is 3. ‘3’ is a fundamental unit of quantity – ‘1’ and ‘2’ are not. But what of groups created by the process of fusion ? If Trinity is a model for ‘grouping by fission’, Quantum Entanglement (John Bell) is the model for‘grouping by fusion’. When the solution of 1 + 1 < 2, 1 and 1 are grouped by fusion. According to Bell’s Theorem of Non-Locality, two independent entities, ‘entangled’ by fusion, have the quantitative value we know as √2. The process of fusion eliminates ‘redundancies’ inherent in the concept of two . The resulting ‘simplest possible quantity’ is neither 1 nor 2 but √2. We can think of such a ‘complex unit’ as akin to ‘heavy hydrogen’, deuterium. While ‘normal’ hydrogen consists of 1 lepton (electron) and 1 hadron (proton) and ‘normal’ helium consists of 2 leptons (electrons) and 2 hadrons (protons), heavy hydrogen consists of 1 lepton and 2 hadrons (proton + neutron). To summarize, ‘one’ does not exist in any real world and ‘two’ is inherently unstable. Any two entities must either collapse into a single, complex entity with a quantitative value of √2 or they must generate a third, resulting in a single entity with a quantitative value of 3. In biology, the 30 Trillion cells that make up your body are all descended from a single cell that merged with another cell and formed a symbiotic relationship (cell + nucleus). The resulting organism is clearly ‘more’ than a single prokaryotic cell but ‘less’ than two completely independent cells. Similarly, in math one entity and another entity merge creating a single entity with a ‘heightened value’. As noted above, in the Real World, all process, including the process of grouping, is recursive. Therefore, there are no linear equations. Mathematics begins with equations that have at least two solutions, e.g. √2x or 3x. Note that we seem to be relying still on ordinary ‘natural’ numbers like 1, 2, and 3 to tell our story. But these, obviously, as just placeholders. To avoid massive confusion, we’ll need two new symbols to represent our two quantitative minima. I suggest Δ for the fundamental unit of fission and ꓦ for the fundamental unit of fusion. We also need symbols to represent the two basic arithmetic processes, fission and fusion, replacing addition and multiplication. Instead of + and * from linear arithmetic, I propose ↗ for fission and ↘ for fusion. And for the inverse operations, currently represented by – and /, I propose ↙ and ↖. Armed with these basic symbols we can now build a new algebra. Note that the familiar identities of linear arithmetic 1 + 0 = 1 and 1 1 = 1 disappear since + and are processes and no process in the Real World leaves its elements unaltered; the result of a process can never be the same as any of its elements (except perhaps in a rare case of accidental coincidence). Counting works quite differently in the new new math. There are two different counting systems depending on whether we’re in fusion or fission mode. In fusion mode, instead of n = 1, 2, 3, 4… we count like this: n = 2^((n-1)/n) < 2. I’m looking forward to playing a game of hide and seek with my great grandchildren (my grandchildren have aged out) and asking the cherubs to count using new new math in fusion mode. Where a muggle-child might begin “1, 2, 3, 4…”, my great grandchildren would say “2^(0), 2^(1/2), 2^(2/3), 2^(3/4)…” In muggle-speak that corresponds (approximately) to “1.0, 1.4, 1.7, 1.8…” Bonus : I’ll never have to worry about being found because in the entire history of the cosmos, they’ll never even get to 2. I think a little frustration can be character building, don’t you? Plus, I can head into the house and make up a pitcher of margaritas, no salt…for me, of course, not for them. (They’re still counting, remember?) But take heart, children. Counting in the fission mode is a bit easier…at first; but it gets progressively harder as we climb the number ladder (rather than slither along the Real Number line). Instead of n = 1, 2, 3, 4, we count “Δ^1, Δ^2, Δ^3, Δ^4…” Again, in muggle speak, we’re talking 0, 0, 3 … 9 … 27 … Wait, there’s already a name for these numbers; they’re called p-adic . Obviously, I am limited by space and by ability to this simple outline of new, new math principles. You, dear reader, are better qualified to expand this sketch into a full algebra and to explore the nooks and crannies of this system and I, for one, look forward to the results. Previous Share Next Do you like what you just read and want to read more Thoughts? Subscribe today for free! Thoughts While Shaving - the official blog of Aletheia Today Magazine. Click here.

< Back Ovid vs. Plato David Cowled Sep 20, 2025 “Ovid freed us from the collective anonymity of Plato and prepared us for the intensely personal theology of Jesus.” At the age of 12, I first encountered Homer (in translation, of course – I’m no John Stuart Mill). To my credit, I immediately realized I had no idea what was going on. (To my discredit, I suspect that those who know me best would say the same of me today.) Judeo-Christianity has its challenges: burning bushes, parting seas, multiplying foodstuffs and my personal favorite, water that tastes, and intoxicates, like musty old vintage wine, 1er cru . But compared to Greco-Roman mythology, the Bible reads like a 20 th century tech manual. Gods battling gods at every turn, incarnate every where, in humans, animals, plants, and even stones; in the phenomena of echo and reflection; in the rhythms of nature – the sunrise and the seasons; in love itself, and even in the realm of the dead (Hades). And what of these gods? Petty, vain, mischievous, jealous, vengeful, sibling rivals… I am no longer 12; I’m many multiples on…and then some. But I’m still baffled by Greco-Roman mythology, or at least I was until I rediscovered Ovid. (I’d read Ovid before and liked him…but that was in Latin class and our focus was on his use of language, not his metaphysics.) Today I am well described by Ben Johnson as one having “little Latin and no Geek ”, but I am still krazy ‘bout kosmology . Who would not wish to understand the metaphysics of Mount Olympus? (Perhaps you, dear reader, to your credit!) But as for me, I’m hooked. Of course, my friends and family have organized all the politically correct interventions, but to no avail. Imagine my excitement then when I realized that the key-to-rebecca had existed all along, for almost exactly 2000 years in fact. It was my Rosetta Stone moment. Ovid’s Metamorphoses is many things but none more important than the cypher, i.e. the code, needed to unravel the mysteries of Greco-Roman mythology. It is the Cliff’s Notes version of a millennial civilization… except that these Notes come in a spectacular epic poem. Like Europe’s A-List violin concerti, the Canon of great epic poems is quite limited: Iliad , Odyssey , Aeneid , of course, then Divine Comedy and Paradise Lost , and in the middle, acting as a fulcrum, Ovid’s Metamorphoses , bridging the gap between two civilizations (Classical and Christian), and in doing so, providing a key to both. As I said, a Rosetta Stone ! How does it work? The turn of the millennium Latin poet built a comprehensive cosmology around the concept of Identity and expressed it in glorious verse. In Metamorphoses , Ovid treats Identity as if it were a cosmic onion. The outermost layer, the skin, is the region we call Form . According to Plato, Form (ideas, ideals) is substructural. First, X is a chair , then X is this chair; first X is a man, then X is me. Species > individual. In Ovid, Form is infinitely variegated. Its vicissitudes are endless but entirely superficial…and therefore ultimately meaningless. Ovid turns Plato on his head, much the same as Marx did Hegel 1850 years later. In Ovid, Form is superficial, Identity substructural. As the outer layers of the cosmic onion are peeled away, we drill ever deeper into the essence of the existent. We are dogged in our expectation of finding a pony at the bottom of this pile of excrement. But we are disappointed every time. Like Prospero, we are left empty handed: “Our revels now are ended. These, our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits and are melted into air, into thin air; and—like the baseless fabric of this vision— the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, and like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on…” - The Tempest (Shakespeare) 100 years after Ovid but 1500 years before Shakespeare, John of Patmos had a similar ‘revelation’. His vision, which fills most of the final book of the Christian Bible, includes the systematic breaking of 7 seals, reminiscent of the layers of Ovid’s cosmic onion. But when the 7th seal is broken, John, like Shakespeare’s audience and Ovid, gets a stupefying surprise: Out of the organ grinder’s box pops ‘Jack’, Jean-Paul in fact, Sartre. Not the man himself, of course, but his singular contribution to the Intellectual History of the West, i.e. Le Neant. ( Being and Nothingness ) John watched (and listened) as the Lamb broke open each seal in turn. Each brought new and terrifying sights and sounds: a voice like thunder, the four horsemen of the apocalypse, Death and Hell itself, the blood of martyrs. Then, with the breaking of the sixth seal, “there was a great earthquake, the sun turned as black and dark as sackcloth, and the whole moon became like blood. The stars in the sky fell to Earth like unripe figs shaken loose in a strong wind. Then the sky was divided, like a torn scroll…” (Like the curtain in the Temple at the hour of Christ’s crucifixion.) But even this is still just preparation for the great event yet to come, the breaking of the seventh seal, the fulcrum on which Revelation balances. Consider the Amen chorus at the end of Handel’s great oratorio, Messiah . Midway through this varied but bombastic summation of the ‘greatest story ever told,’ the orchestra and the chorus suddenly fall silent and stay silent for several measures. This is the pivotal musical moment corresponding to the breaking of the 7th Seal in salvation history as told in Revelation. This ‘rest’ in the midst of Handel’s Amen is one of the most profound moments in all of Western music. It links the final chorus of the world’s greatest oratorio with the final book of the Bible. So, if Platonic Form is unrelated to identity (per Ovid), what takes its place, what assumes that role? What survives formal changes, no matter how numerous or how profound? Sense of Self . According to Ovid, we retain our sense of being ourselves through all our ‘formal’ changes. I am always, ever, and only me , regardless of how I may appear. Memory ( Persistence of , Dali). We remember all our prior forms and some of our experiences under each, just as seniors remember events from childhood and middle age. Qualia . Although forms can change utterly in Ovid, basic qualities endure. A ‘beautiful’ girl becomes just as beautiful as a tree, heifer, or spring. Values . In a dramatic affirmation of Transcendent (eternal and universal) Values, central to Judeo-Christian ethics, Ovid’s personalities retain their chosen values throughout their changes in form. Consider Daphne who begs her father to change her into a tree so she can preserve her chastity from Apollo…who continues to love her, even in her new form: “If you cannot be my wife, you will be my tree,” and everyday he wears her laurel leaves. You get the sense that Daphne’s chastity and Apollo’s lust will survive any future changes of form. Or Io, changed into a cow by Juno, continuing to follow her family members, hoping for a gentle touch or a handful of grass. Unable to speak, she uses her hoof to write out in the sand the story of her dreadful change. Later, when she regains her human form, “no trace of heifer is left, except the lovely whiteness of her flesh…And now she is a celebrated goddess, revered by crowds clothed in white linen: Isis.” Io has been through it all but her sense of self never waivers, her memories persist throughout and her defining whiteness, acquired as a heifer, continues as a god. Identity is not a function of Form, as we’ve imagined at least since Plato; rather, the two are entirely unrelated. True identity lies in (1) our immanent and intuitive sense of self, i.e. consciousness, (2) our unique collection of historical experiences as they persist in Memory, and (3) the transcendental values we apply when judging our World and forming our Subjective Aim. Plato can be read as a critical meditation on the Homeric myths. Ovid freed us from the collective anonymity of Plato and prepared us for the intensely personal theology of Jesus. *** Ovid among the Scythians (painted twice by Eugène Delacroix in 1859 and 1862) imagines the Roman poet Ovid during his exile on the Black Sea, far from the cultured life of Rome. In the canvas, nomadic Scythians approach the seated poet with curiosity and a mix of reverence and hospitality, set within a vast, windswept steppe of muted blues and ochres. The work contrasts Ovid’s refined, contemplative presence with the rugged vitality of the Scythian world, creating a poetic meditation on exile, cultural encounter, and the enduring power of art and intellect. Previous Share Next Do you like what you just read and want to read more Thoughts? Subscribe today for free! Thoughts While Shaving - the official blog of Aletheia Today Magazine. Click here.

< Back The Meaning of Music David Cowles We pray the Psalms hoping to conform our minds, our values, our wills to God’s. Remember, God is his essence; we, on the other hand, are each free to create our own essences. Unfortunately, most of us are making a hash of it! Music elucidates the pre-verbal, non-phenomenal structures of the real world. Its meaning is not subject to logical analysis, scientific verification, or mathematical proof. The only test of music’s validity is its beauty. (This essay is dedicated to Gary Crispell, who taught me everything I know about music.) “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” (Hamlet) Shakespeare doesn’t give us many details, but we may infer from the context that Horatio was a naïve realist. Were he alive today, his vanity license plate might read ‘WYSIWYG:’ What you see is what you get! The ‘linearity’ of Horatio’s world view is undoubtedly a product of the vocabulary and syntax of his native language: objects, qualities, and actions, i.e., nouns, adjectives, and active/passive voice verbs. Combining these elements allows Horatio to say a whole lot. In Horatio’s mind (like A. J. Ayer’s), by ‘using his words’ he can say anything that there is to say. Anything he can’t say that way isn’t worth saying: it’s either meaningless, trivial, or false. Horatio lives his entire life between the initial capital letter and the final period of every sentence. Does that make Horatio the first Logical Positivist? The first Ordinary Language Philosopher? Perhaps it does, although Horatio doesn’t claim this title for himself; Hamlet awards it to him! Hamlet, of course, knows better! He knows that there are ‘more things in heaven and earth’ than Horatio has dreamt of. Verbal language, while it enables meaning, also functions as a kind of intellectual and emotional straight jacket; it severely limits Horatio’s universe of discourse. (Of course, he doesn’t realize that…but Hamlet does!) All that has been said, is being said, will be said or could be said in ‘ordinary language’ only scratches the surface of what might be said if we somehow had access to ‘a broader palette.’ Music is just such a palette. It is a window on exactly those things that are not dreamt of in Horatio’s philosophy – things that are non-linear by nature, things that cannot be expressed easily, if at all, using nouns, adjectives, and verbs. Meaning is the relationship between a set of ‘signifiers’ and a set of "signifieds." We say that the signifier means what it signifies. The signifier and the signified are mutually exclusive; they cannot have any elements in common. Each must utterly transcend the other. Of course, the same item may be a signifier in one context and signified in another, but it cannot properly be both in the same context. Therefore, nothing can ‘be its own meaning’ (nothing can ‘mean itself’). To suggest otherwise would be to misuse the word ‘meaning.’ ‘To Mean,’ by definition, refers to something beyond the signifier itself. Otherwise, it would not be ‘meaning’ but ‘being.’ Archibald MacLeish famously wrote, “A poem should not mean but be.” Taking MacLeish at his word, poems, at least his poems, do not refer to anything outside themselves. They are ‘self-referential;’ therefore, they mean nothing, but they are something: they are what they are, period! But this is not the case with most uses of language. When we speak, we usually want our speech to refer to something in real life (IRL) and, perhaps, influence it. “Take out the trash” has a clear ‘meaning,’ but its ‘being’ is trivial. A set of signifiers ‘means’ a set of “signifieds.” Language is a set of signifiers; it is often used to describe patterns that occur IRL. We say that such language is meaningful to the extent that it elucidates real-world patterns in a way that resonates with us as true. (If a particular sentence appears to refer to something IRL but does not resonate with us as ‘true,’ it has no meaning beyond itself. Without a ‘truth function,’ it cannot refer to anything IRL. Following MacLeish, it ‘is,’ but it does not ‘mean.’) Le degree zero of meaning is denotation: words strung together in well-formed formulae (WFF), such as sentences, to indicate some specific real-world feature. Sadly, for most of us, this is all we ‘mean’ when we talk about ‘meaning.’ Fortunately, however, such spare communication is the exception rather than the rule IRL, at least outside the realm of science and engineering. In ordinary speech, the connotation of words and phrases is often at least as important as their denotation, but even that only scratches the surface of how words can mean what we mean them to mean. In the hands of creative writers, especially poets, the sounds of words and the images they conjure up may be more meaningful than their denotations, or even their connotations. Combined with gesture in drama or tone in song, words can convey meanings far beyond anything found in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED). Of course, we’re still in the realm of words, but why stop there? Words are not the only ‘signifiers;’ what about the visual image in a painting? What about the melodies, harmonies, and rhythms in a piece of polyphonic music? Metaphor is meaning and mythology is metaphor writ large…but music is metaphor writ even larger. The patterns of sounds in a piece of music are metaphors for various internal states of mind (thoughts, emotions, etc.) and for various patterns that lie beneath the surface of what we call “real life.” Any pattern that elucidates another pattern and resonates with us as true is a signifier. We are immersed in a sea of signifieds and signifiers. It has even been suggested that this state of immersion is what human life, or at least, human culture, is. Yet, for most of us most of the time, language is simply a tool we use to get by in the world. We use it to convey how we feel and what we think; we use it to get done what we want done: “Take out the trash!” In our hands, language is just a species of technology. Yet, many of us are not satisfied with this. Like Hamlet, we feel that there is more to life than ordinary language can uncover. In fact, the ancient Greek word usually translated as ‘truth’ (aletheia) literally means ‘uncovering.’ We sense that the vocabulary and syntax of our language only scrapes the surface of patterns IRL. We sense that there are deeper, more complex patterns at play in the world. For the most part, these deeper patterns lie below the level of sense perception – but not below the level of intuition or feeling. Those of us who find ourselves in this dilemma look outside the limits of ordinary language to satisfy our hunger. Narrative, poetry, drama, song, all make use of language but strive to transcend language’s inherently linear structure to elucidate the non-linear patterns we experience IRL. But we also need to look beyond verbal language entirely. I am reminded of the Beatles’ song “Yellow Submarine” and the eponymous movie that followed. One of the song’s verses is particularly relevant to this article: “And we lived beneath the waves...” At first encounter, nothing seems especially exciting about this line; but its true significance takes center stage in the movie. The world ‘beneath the waves’ is the noumenal world that underlies the phenomenal world of sense perception. “Yellow Submarine”, the film, combines visual imagery, song lyrics, and a bit of dialog to make manifest this world beneath the waves, i.e., the deep structure of Being. This is what the movie is about! The Beatles present the world as a hierarchy of ‘branes’ (or ‘seas’ as they call them) that connect the phenomenal world of Liverpool, England, with a utopian paradise called Pepperland. Spoiler Alert: Toward the end of the movie, we realize that Pepperland and Liverpool are one and the same place, seen from different perspectives. (Check out Science and the Yellow Submarine, a feature article found elsewhere in this Issue of AT Magazine.) But back to music! Polyphonic music is inherently non-linear; it is ideally suited to the exploration and expression of those aspects of reality that, like the Nile in springtime, necessarily overflow their banks, in this case the banks of ordinary language. Of course, from pop tunes to operas, music often incorporates language and further extends the expressive power of that language. But then there is music that does not intersect with language at all, non-choral, instrumental music, and especially that music we call ‘classical music.’ Like language, music has a kind of vocabulary (e.g., tones) and a sort of syntax (e.g., musical keys). But most, and certainly the best, classical music does not use those tones or keys to represent any object, action, or quality IRL. In the best non-choral music, there is no denotation at all. So, then, how can there be meaning? When I say that a sentence has meaning, I mean that it refers to some state-of-affairs IRL and expresses that state-of-affairs using a pattern that elucidates the ‘target pattern’ and resonates with it in a way that strikes me as ‘true.’ This is exactly what music does! Music consists of patterns of sounds (melodies, harmonies, rhythms); a musical composition is an uber-pattern, a pattern of such patterns. Music reflects on the ‘real world’ (but not necessarily just on the phenomenal world) and makes a model of that world based purely on sound. For the most part, it is not about theory, perception, experience, or narrative. Rather, it is about the deep structure of Being, what lies below what can be perceived by the senses and expressed in ordinary language. As mentioned above, elements of this ‘deep structure,’ while inaccessible to sense perception, may yet be accessible to intuition, to feeling. This is the wellspring of the composer’s inspiration. Compare music with mythology. Metaphor is meaning, and mythology is metaphor writ large. All great mythology aims to tell the complete story of Being, it aims to be a Theory of Everything (TOE). Likewise, every major musical score attempts to tell the story of Being. Like a comprehensive myth, it, too, strives to be a TOE. Why then so many scores (so many TOEs)? Not all TOEs are created equal. Some TOEs seem accurate and comprehensive, but most fall far short. Yet, composers and performers never give up their pursuit of this Holy Grail. A Theory of Everything has been the goal of science from Einstein on; it has been the goal of non-choral music from Bach on. Plus, every TOE must model the real world from a particular perspective. When we approach Being, we are like the blind monks who touched an elephant. Each of us touches a different part of the elephant (ear, trunk, leg, tail, etc.) and each of us comes away with a different image of what an elephant is – all correct, all consistent with one another…but each is incomplete by itself. Unlike us, God only needs one TOE (his sophia, his logos) to exhaustively comprehend Being and everything that exists or could exist through it. His sophia (wisdom), his logos (word), does nicely. We’re not so lucky! We may need an unlimited number of TOEs and still not reach God’s level of comprehension. Or maybe we are lucky after all! God doesn’t need Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, and Brahms to comprehend the universe. Fortunately, we do. O happy fault! We need the entire canon of classical music, and then some, to get anywhere near God’s ‘uber, uber-pattern.’ There is always something new to be discovered about an elephant and, likewise, there is always something new to be discovered about Being. We cannot translate music into philosophy. If we could, the music itself would be a superfluous diversion. Instead, the best music utterly transcends the expressive power of language. So, what do I mean when I talk about patterns IRL that music may have the power to elucidate? One such pattern might be the nature of identity and diversity; another, the process of change. These are deep structures IRL that ordinary language has struggled to express. Music to the rescue! When and how does one melodic theme become another, when does one rhythmic pattern morph into another? How far can something (i.e., a pattern) be stretched before it becomes something else? How do musical patterns relate to one another within a single work? Sequentially as melody, hierarchically as harmony, cyclically as rhythm, all simultaneously. Music is perhaps the medium best suited to the exploration of the deeper dimensions of Being. Through music, we may get a glimpse, dare I say it, of the mind of God. Earlier, we said that ‘meaning’ occurs when a set of signifiers elucidates and resonates with a set of signifieds. When does that happen? It happens when, and to the extent that, the signifier is beautiful (resonant) and true (elucidatory) with respect to that which is signified. Beauty and Truth (along with Justice) are God’s primary values (at least according to most Western theologies); and God’s values, i.e., his essence, constitute what we sometimes call “the mind of God.” 20th century British philosopher, Alfred North Whitehead, had just such an understanding. He assigned God’s values to his Primordial (conceptual) Nature rather than to his Consequent (physical) Nature. Recall that self-proclaimed atheist Jean-Paul Sartre, said insightfully: “God is the being whose essence precedes his existence.” In other words, God is his essence; God is Beauty, Truth, and Justice, even before (logically before, not temporally prior) God is. We pray the Psalms hoping to conform our minds, our values, our wills to God’s. Remember, God is his essence; we, on the other hand, are each free to create our own essences. Unfortunately, most of us are making a hash of it! Music elucidates the pre-verbal, non-phenomenal structures of the real world. Its meaning is not subject to logical analysis, scientific verification, or mathematical proof. The only test of music’s validity is its beauty. As Keats famously wrote, “Beauty is truth and truth beauty; that is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know.” When we listen to a gorgeous composition, we are not just entertained, we are enlightened. We have a ‘meaning-full’ experience. And when the beauty of a particular performance or a particular score utterly overwhelms us, is it too much to hope that we are experiencing the world as God experiences it, i.e., that we are glimpsing the mind of God? *Editor's Note: For the role of music in the life of one artist, be sure to read Drumming to Inner Peace in this Issue of AT Magazine. David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com. Share Previous Next

< Back The Owl and the Pussycat David Cowles “The entire story makes no sense…unless there’s something special about that ring, something you can’t get at Harrod’s at any price.” No, our title does not refer to a pub in London. If it did, I would certainly be having a pint there right now. Rather it is the title of a poem by nineteenth century poet Edmund Lear, a man more famous in kindergartens than in universities. Edmund Lear is identified as an author of “nonsense” poems and stories, a charge he readily accepts. How not? His collected works include such titles as Nonsense Songs & Stories and The Book of Nonsense . Most critics have been content to accept Lear’s self-identification at face value. But what if there is something more going on here? Consider the words of St. Paul. In his First Letter to Corinthians , he writes: “The message of the cross is foolishness…we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles.” But he also writes, “Yet we do speak a wisdom to those who are mature…we speak God’s wisdom, mysterious, hidden.” Is it possible that something similar could be going on with Lear? Could there be wisdom ‘hidden’ in his apparent nonsense. And if so, what deeper meaning might lie beneath the surface of his work? Let’s take a close look at Lear’s most famous work, The Owl and the Pussy-cat : The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea in a beautiful pea-green boat, they took some honey, and plenty of money wrapped up in a five-pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above and sang to a small guitar, “O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love, what a beautiful Pussy you are, you are, you are! What a beautiful Pussy you are! Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl! How charmingly sweet you sing! Oh let us be married, too long we have tarried: But what shall we do for a ring?” They sailed away for a year and a day to the land where the Bong-tree grows, and there in the wood, a Piggy-wig stood, with a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose, with a ring at the end of his nose. “Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.” So they took it away and were married next day by the Turkey who lives on the hill. They dined on mince and slices of quince, which they ate with a runcible spoon; and hand in hand on the edge of the sand, they danced in the light of the moon, the moon, the moon, they danced by the light of the moon. No prosecutor worth his salt would have a moment’s difficulty making a prime facie case for nonsense here. The defense on the other hand, contending that there is method in this madness, certainly has its work cut out for it. But let’s give it a go! Our argument starts with the very first line…and with the title itself. An owl and a pussycat, indeed! Tales of animosity between birds and cats permeate all of literature right down to Sylvester and Tweety . The notion that an owl and a pussycat could peacefully co-exist, much less fall in love, seems absurd. Yet it is the premise of this poem. Oddly though, this juxtaposition is reminiscent of another story told 2500 years earlier by the prophet Isaiah (11:6): “Then the wolf will be the guest of the lamb and the leopard will lie down with the young goat; the calf and the young lion shall browse together with a little child to lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, together their young shall lie down; the lion shall eat hay like the ox.” Isaiah’s imagery introduces the Messiah, and with the Messiah, the Eschaton, Isaiah’s vision of the Kingdom of Heaven. The resonance of the Lear and Isaiah texts alerts us to the notion that there may be eschatological issues at state in Lear’s poem. We learn early that our amorous pair is by no means skint. In fact, they have ‘plenty of money’, so much in fact that they can afford to use a ₤5 note like a rubber band. “Plenty of money” - I doubt even you would say that – affluent though you are. Besides money, they took honey – an interesting choice for a long voyage. (What are they, 5 years old?) Even more interesting because neither species ever eats honey. Owls and cats are both carnivorous predators; so why would they take honey? Again, we turn to Isaiah: “…The lion shall eat hay like the ox.” But there is yet another way to read this. Honey is the archetypical spiritual food (“the nectar of the gods”). Mead, the beverage of choice among the divine set, is made from honey. In this reading, the ‘honey’ is not a dietary item at all but the currency of gnosis . The image balances the spiritual (honey) and the secular (money). Our couple feels it needs a ring, but apparently not just any ring will do. If it would, they have access to many fine jewelers in London and, as we know, they have ‘plenty of money’. They are not bargain hunting. They need a ring that recognizes the inviolable equality and independence of the marriage partners, even as it celebrates their union. Our couple does not wish to consecrate their marriage with a symbol of division and exclusion. So of course they do exactly what you and I would have done in similar circumstances: they sail away for a year and a day to the land where the Bong-tree grows, because I mean you know you can’t find a suitable ring anywhere in London! They’ve landed. Now for that ring? “How much must a ring cost on Bong Island if even Harrod’s couldn’t meet their needs?” I wonder. Voicelessly, I warn my animal friends, “You’d better shop around, get multiple quotes, haggle with the merchants.” But they had barely disembarked when they spied a Piggy-wig, standing in a wood nearby with a ring at the end of its nose. Apparently, our intrepid adventurers are not shoppers. (I can’t imagine why you’d go to an exotic island if not to shop for knickknacks, machine made in China?) Nor are they in any mood to bargain; and we shan’t even discuss the wisdom of buying a piece of jewelry from a pig on a beach, especially after it has spent time in his porcine snout. Our pair makes a ridiculously low offer for the ring, ‘one shilling’, and it is accepted immediately. Now for our EU cousins, a shilling is 1/5th of a British Pound, equivalent to about a ‘Quarter’ US. But don’t forget inflation. Lear’s shilling would be worth about 3 pounds today. Still not a stretch for our lovers; after all, they use ₤5 notes as fasteners. So obviously the entire story makes no sense ( quelle surprise! )… unless there’s something very, very special about that ring, something you can’t get at Harrod’s. Well, how about a whole new ‘topology’ (i.e. ‘cosmic shape’)? When you buy a ring at Tiffany’s it will always have an inside and an out, no exceptions, not for any amount of money. Every ring divides the world in two (in/outside).The sacrament of marriage, on the other hand, is about eliminating such divisions: ‘and two shall be one flesh’. If a ring is to symbolize the sacramental power of matrimony, it can’t be any ring we’ve ever seen. So, it’s Bong Island…here we come! To properly symbolize marriage we would need a ring with just one side, with no inside or out. Imagine showing that off at your next high school reunion! Unfortunately though, it’s not available in New York or London…or even in Paris, or anywhere else in a cosmos plagued with an orientable (inside/out) topology. But what if were available on Bong Island? A one sided mathematical object exists but only in a cosmos with a ‘non-orientable topology’; it’s called a Mobius strip. Could it be that Piggy-wig’s ring is just such a one sided object? On a Mobius strip, there are no fixed beginnings or ends and no fixed orientation (e.g. ‘up or down’). It allows you to travel around it continuously, always coming back to an arbitrary starting point; however, each time you return to the starting point, your orientation has been reversed. Therefore, symmetry requires 720° rather than the 360° we’re used to. So, ring bought, now it’s off to be married by some ‘fool on a hill’, some Turkey. (I’ve heard members of the clergy referred to as ‘turkeys’ before but here I think Lear is taking about an actual bird…who knows?) First the wedding, then off to the reception for dancing, dancing, dancing…and a feast! One catch though: no knives or forks. The only utensil provided by this traditional Bong Island wedding venue is a ‘runcible spoon’ – whatever that is. And so we now have two mysteries to explain: the spoon…and of course the ring! ‘Runcible’ is a neologism unique to Lear. Its meaning, if indeed it has one, is entirely uncertain. If there’s a consensus, based mostly on context, I suppose it would be ‘slotted spoon’. If so, that would make it a very poor eating utensil indeed…and that might have been Lear’s point exactly. I would make a case, however, for a slightly different interpretation based on the possible etymology of the root word, ‘runc’. I must tell you, however, that I am indebted to Anthropic’s Claude 3.5 for much of this analysis: Old English ‘hruncian’ (to wrinkle) could have been Lear’s primary source for the root in ‘runcible’. It derives from a Proto-Germanic verb ‘hrunkon’ (to wrinkle, crease or fold). That root appears as well in Middle English as ‘ronke’ (wrinkle) and in Old Norse as ‘hrukka’ (also wrinkle). And this makes linguistic sense: phonological developments from ‘hr’ to ‘r’ and between ‘o’ and ‘u’ are common in Germanic languages. So, by this analysis, a ‘runcible spoon’ is a wrinkled, creased or folded spoon… Heck, we were better off with ‘slotted spoon’ even though there is exactly zero textual support for that choice. A wrinkled, creased or folded spoon would be almost as difficult to eat with as a slotted spoon… but at least it respects the language of Beowulf . Plus it ties back to the ring. Suppose the spoon is an extension of the same non-orientable topology as the ring. Three dimensional objects (spoons) that embed a Mobius strip are called ‘ Klein Bottles ’. In our world of 3 spatial dimensions, Klein Bottles are not physically realizable, but if they were, they could hold no liquid. Why? Because like all non-orientable objects, they are one sided and therefore have no inside or out. In this admittedly speculative interpretation, the ‘runcible spoon’ is the 3-d correlate (Klein) of the Piggy-wig’s nose ring (Mobius). It suggests that there is a consistently non-orientable topology in play on “the land where the Bong-tree grows”…as there was in Eden. What better way to end our tale than a dance: “Hand in hand…on the edge of the sand…by the light of the moon”. What a climax! A dance of Sufi dervishes! What better metaphor than dance to symbolize the resolution of all conflict into universal harmony (Isaiah) and what better place to dance than at the ‘edge’ of the world, the point where orientable spacetime disappears: Sandymount Strand (James Joyce), Finis Terra (Santiago di Compostela), the Restaurant at the End of the Universe (Douglass Adams), Bong Island (Edmund Lear). This transubstantiation of our humdrum orientable universe has a sacramental aspect. The topology of Eden was undoubtedly non-orientable. It was only by eating the apple that dualities were manifest: naked/clothed, good/evil, life/death. Fast forward, the scourge of orientability colors every aspect of life in our ‘fallen’ world: “I’m in with the in crowd; you are odd man out; Warsaw Pact vs. NATO, citizen vs. alien; 1% vs. 99; labor vs. management; red state vs. blue; Yankees vs. Red Sox.” As contrasts, these dualities are enriching; but as conflicts, they impoverish us. So in every way, this is the wedding of the ages. It restores primal non-orientability, both symbolically and physically. In Revelation , the final book of the New Testament, Christ is identified as the Alpha and the Omega and in the non-orientable topology of the Eschaton, Alpha and Omega are one! David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com . purpose and devotion. Return to our 2024 Beach Read Share Previous Next

< Back Being a Faith Chaplain in a Secular World By Rev. Dr. Anne-Louise Critchlow As a chaplain, I am allowed to talk about faith or pray with a client if that is what he or she wants. Like many people in our secular and even religious society, I am to be there for ‘those of all faiths or none.’ Like many of us, I work for a company that, while endorsing ‘good moral values,’ does not want to propagate Christian beliefs. So, why would this company want a chaplain to work with its staff and clientele? As far as my employers are concerned, they want me to be concerned with the well-being of their residents (over 55s, some of whom live in independent living units, while some in residential care houses). According to my terms of employment: I can show pastoral care by engaging with residents’ problems and worries; I can give bereavement counseling and advice; I can promote community events; and I can even contribute to their understanding of their own spirituality! However, ‘spirituality’ is a cover-all term for enjoyment of music, poetry, art, and nature. “Everyone has spirituality,” says those interested in this term, “But it may or may not involve specific beliefs or religion, and we should not try to impose our beliefs on anyone.” As a chaplain, I am allowed to talk about faith or pray with a client if that is what he or she wants. Like many people in our secular and even religious society, I am to be there for ‘those of all faiths or none.’ Those of all faiths or none… Have you heard this phrase before? It is very likely that you have because it is used by those who work in education, local councils, hospitals, and anyone in the caring professions. This phrase allows us to include everyone without discrimination (which is helpful), but it also appears to stop those who have a particular religious conviction from sharing it with others. It is a very common remit in the twenty-first century – a sort of catch-all label that means I should offend no one and treat all beliefs as if they are the same, thus supporting the idea that what is true for me may not be true for you. It appears to be the ultimate in tolerance, and tolerance is one of the gods of our secular age. So, how can I work as a chaplain while being true to my faith convictions? You might object, “Surely the apostles were very direct in the way they evangelized? Why can’t we be the same?” You can try being very outspoken if you like, but you will soon find you are dismissed from your job. It is also dishonest to agree to your terms of employment and then override them. As for the apostles, they weren’t being paid by a secular employer, and looking closer at some stories in the Acts of the Apostles, we see that Paul engaged with different audiences and different worldviews in a variety of ways, and we would be well advised to do the same. He discussed the Good News with those in authority in the synagogue, appealing to their knowledge of their own religion, but when he spoke to the citizens of Athens in the Areopagus, he was careful to quote their own poets, as a starting point in the discussion. (Acts 17:28) The early apostles started where their audiences were in terms of culture and understanding, and we can do the same. Listening to where people are in their understanding of life is always worthwhile. Once people feel valued by us, they may trust us to open up about what they really feel, especially about their spiritual concerns. It is a privilege to be invited into their world and their worries; however, we should proceed respectfully. “I’d like to chat to the chaplain, as long as she doesn’t mention God,” one of our residents told the housekeeper. I spent an hour listening to the tragic events of her life and the anxieties she had endured. I asked her the odd question, seeking clarification, but, as she had requested, there was no mention of God. The next time I met her, I listened again. Suddenly, she blurted out, “So, what do you think about believing in God when I have shared with you all of my sufferings?” “Are you sure you want me to talk about that?” I inquired carefully. “Yes, I do,” she replied. After a long discussion, she asked me to pray for her. All this from a resident who had asked me not to mention God! Her life story also points out the truth of the fact that we should not lightly dismiss suffering or sound as though we have easy answers for someone’s personal difficulties. Sometimes, just being alongside them is enough for them to know that they are loved and understood. Nor should we stereotype the sort of person who might be open to God. I had a request from a long-term alcoholic to pray for him, when all the more outwardly respectable people in the housing unit showed no interest in faith at all. The next time I saw him, he had turned his back on addiction – quite an answer to prayer! An ex-soldier suffering from PTSD and heaving drinking was behaving terribly to staff and residents alike. The business director was surprised by his request: “I want to see the chaplain.” We prayed together over a number of months, and when he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, he put his faith in Jesus. I was limited by my work agreement, but he was not limited at all in what he told his fellow residents about his hope of eternal life. In his will, he asked that I take his funeral – what a privilege! Events for residents – body, mind, and spirit I advertise such events with complete transparency so that residents can stay away if they are so inclined. By having a laugh together and sharing on a human level, they relax, and when I tell them a story about how God has forgiven me or if I share a parable or written prayer, they don’t turn away. My secular employer acknowledges that everyone has a spiritual part of their nature, and how true that is. I find that as people get older, they want to know more about their spirituality and experience God. The extraordinary power of prayer No government or company or department can legislate against prayer. I pray for all the places and people I visit, and God answers those prayers! One resident, Betty, was given two weeks to live, suddenly realized she didn’t know how she was going to meet God. She had only met me once when I had prayed for her, but now she felt the force of that prayer, and she asked to see me again. I told her the story of the lost sheep, and she asked to be found by the Good Shepherd. Another Christian resident was made to sign an agreement with her housing provider, affirming that she would not share her faith with the other residents. She was very upset, but she prayed for her fellow residents. On my next visit to her house, I presented an Easter experience event – again with a mixture of games, a quiz, and crafts, but also the power of the Easter story. Who does not need to know about forgiveness and the hope of eternal life? All the people she had silently prayed for came to that event. She said to me later, “Anne-Louise, I thought that God’s work through me had been stopped, but he sent you to do the work instead.” We agreed that we had an unseen partnership! The challenge of dementia Can you communicate the love of God to someone who has lost their mind and memory? God is not hindered, nor should we feel so hindered. While in a discussion with a group of residents about Easter memories, suddenly a resident with dementia, who could hardly speak, sang “There is a green hill far away.” We sang the hymn together, and she recounted what she had heard in Sunday school as a child. (This should be an encouragement to Sunday school teachers!) “Deep calls to deep.” (Psalm 42 v. 7) God speaks to people through recalled memory. We, too, can speak the truth to the memories in the caverns of one’s mind and heart. Restrictions are no barrier to the real work of God I have seen this truth in all areas of work. When I worked with Street Pastors, a Christian organization, we could not share our faith openly when in partnership with the Council and the Police on the streets and in the pubs, but we were allowed to answer questions and respond to requests for prayer. Again and again, we saw people relaxing when they were under no pressure, and we were guests ‘on their turf.’ Because of their feeling of authority, they shared their problems with us openly, asked for prayer, and thanked us for what we were doing. I told more people about Jesus on the streets under those restrictions than I did in the church building. I now wonder whether the politically correct restrictions on faith imposed in the workplace are as detrimental as I once thought. One thing is sure: God has his own way of speaking to people, whether we are ready or not. Let us not be afraid of secular employers and restrictions. No one can stand in the way of God’s work, of drawing His people to Himself. Rev. Dr. Anne-Louise Critchlow has been a teacher of English Literature, a church pastoral worker, and a chaplain in France, North Africa, Manchester, and Bristol (UK). She is married with four children and thirteen grandchildren. She now works southwest of England as a chaplain. Previous Next

< Back Special Issue Ahead--Your exclusive look at ATM's Summer Issue David Cowles Jul 14, 2022 All of us at AT are super excited about what we’re building: a hyper-active community of folks dedicated to the convergence of science, philosophy, and theology in the 21st century. Tomorrow is a banner day for Aletheia Today (AT): we are publishing Issue #2 of AT Magazine (ATM), our first “Special Issue.” As before, we are releasing Issue #2 a day early (i.e., today) for our loyal subscribers, Facebook Friends, etc. What do you want to do today? Coach (or play for) an undefeated football team; we’ve got that! Teach a 10-unit course (tween-aged) on Science and the Yellow Submarine ; we’ve got that too! Planning to take in some ‘theater in the round’ this summer? See if you can spot the nihilism in Shakespeare; let us help! The Nicene Creed is 1800 years old. Does it need a face lift? Ever wonder how it would read if we asked a committee of present-day intellectuals to rewrite it? Well, we have! And it’s not pretty . All of us at AT are super excited about what we’re building: a hyper-active community of folks dedicated to the convergence of science, philosophy, and theology in the 21st century. History will remember the 20th century as ‘The 3rd 100 Years War’ and as the century of exponential growth in science and technology? How will history remember the 21st? As ‘The 4th 100 Years War, or as a century of momentous intellectual convergence? History is not a done deal! It’s not written in the stars! It’s up to us to live the 21st century the way we’d like it to be remembered. It’s up to us to create our own history! Click here to enter our Special Issue . Thoughts While Shaving is the official blog of Aletheia Today Magazine ( ATM) . To never miss another Thought, choose the subscribe option below. Also, follow us on any one of our social media channels for the latest news from ATM. Thanks for reading! Previous Share Next Do you like what you just read and want to read more Thoughts? Subscribe today for free! Thoughts While Shaving - the official blog of Aletheia Today Magazine. Click here.

< Back The Theology of Science-Fiction Bob Kurland Can AI have soul ? Theological Objection : “Thinking is a function of man’s immortal soul. God has given an immortal soul to every man and woman, but not to any other animal or to machines. Hence no animal or machine can think." Rebuttal to Objection: “It appears to me that [The Theological Objection] implies a serious restriction of the omnipotence of the Almighty. It is admitted that there are certain things that He cannot do such as making one equal two, but should we not believe that He has freedom to confer a soul on an elephant if He sees fit? We might expect that He would only exercise this power in conjunction with a mutation which provided the elephant with an appropriately improved brain to minister to the needs of this soul.” Alan Turing, Computing Machinery and Intelligence . INTRODUCTION Let's start off on a light note. A long time ago when computers were still new (yes, it was that long ago), when I was at my first academic assignment, the head of the division dealing with computers gave a talk on artificial intelligence for computers. One of the humanities faculty in the audience put a question after the talk " Would you want your daughter to marry one [i.e. a computer]?" Legend has it (I wasn't there) that he answered, " Yes, if she loved him. ” When we inquire about the souls of computers/robots we assume that computers/robots have a mind/self-awareness/consciousness. That some sort of programmed intelligence can be conscious (self-aware) is a hotly debated proposition. A book would be required (many have been written) to explore this notion. We don't want to write that book here, so let's suppose, as do science fiction (SF) authors, that consciousness is possible by some means or another for computers and robots and see what SF has to say about them having souls.* I WANT TO BE A COMPUTER WHEN I DIE As a transition to considering machine intelligence, let's examine how SF treats the transfer of human intelligence/personality into computers or robots. Note that one theoretical physicist, Frank Tipler, in his book, The Physics of Christianity , posits that heaven will consist of personalities transferred to software as the universe reaches its end in an " Omega Point " singularity. Since it is a black hole type singularity, time is slowed down and the intelligences transferred to software thus have essentially an eternity to enjoy their virtual life. Among the many SF stories that deal with transferred human intelligence, there is one that especially focuses on the question of soulhood, Deus X , by Norman Spinrad. Spinrad treats the question with respect, although his attitude to the Catholic Church is somewhat less than reverent (there is a female Pope, Mary I). Below is a summary of the plot, as given in McKee's excellent survey, The Gospel According to Science-Fiction : “...thousands of people exist in an artificial afterlife called 'Transcorporeal Immortality', having copied their consciousness onto a worldwide computer network called 'The Big Board'....Catholic theologian Fr. Philippe de Leone argue[s] that this creation of an artificial soul, which cannot have true self-awareness, dooms the actual soul that is copied to damnation. Pope Mary I, hoping to settle the controversy, orders Fr. DeLeone to have his soul copied upon his death, so that his consciousness can argue against its own autonomous existence from the other side.” Superficially, Pope Mary's plan seems to contain a paradox. If the downloaded Fr. de Leone changes "his" mind and says "yes, I am a real soul", how can we trust what an artificial soul might say? The solution to the paradox is that all of Fr. de Leone's beliefs have been downloaded to his program. If these beliefs are changed, it means that the entity in the computer has free will, and is thus autonomous and a real soul. In the story Fr. DeLeone's soul is "kidnapped" (how do you kidnap a program?) by a group of downloaded personalities that wants to convince the Church, via Fr. de Leone's download, that they have a real soul. As McKee points out in his synopsis, there is a reverse Turing Test applied here. Fr. de Leone does change his mind, the downloaded personalities declare him a deity ("Deus X") and a new controversy arises: Church officials declare how could this blasphemy come about. To still the controversy, Fr. de Leone sacrifices his downloaded personality (dies), Pope Mary declares him a saint and recognizes that the downloaded souls are "real". THE CHURCH AND AI--"GOOD NEWS FROM THE VATICAN" There are many SF works in which the Catholic Church plays a role. In some, the Church and its teachings are treated with respect; in most, not so much. As Gabriel McKee points out in The Gospel According to Science Fiction SF, arising as it does from the secular humanism of the Enlightenment, is critical of religious institutions. SF frequently argues that if organized religion is to be a positive force in the future of humankind, it must change drastically to meet the spiritual challenges of the future. (p. 183 ) One such drastic change is envisaged by Robert Silverberg in his story Good News from the Vatican . In his story there are robot priests and robot high Church officials. One such, a robot Cardinal, is elected Pope after a deadlock between two human cardinals. The story ends with the newly elected robot pontiff rising into the air from the balcony before the assembled masses in St. Peter's Square and, as he goes up " ...his shadow extends across the whole piazza. Higher and higher he goes until he is lost to sight." Does Silverberg, with a sense of irony--the shadow cast over the piazza, and the Pope lost from sight--predict the eclipse of humanity and human values? Or am I reading too much into this ending? A more sympathetic view of how the Church might interact with artificial intelligence is given in Jack McDevitt's fine story, " Gus "**. In this beautiful tale, the newly installed rector of a Catholic Seminary interacts with a computer simulation of St. Augustine of Hippo, purchased (the simulation, that is) to help students understand St. Augustine's teachings. The Rector, Msgr. Chesley, is at first greatly displeased with Gus's (the program's) dicta: "' The thing must have been programmed by Unitarians' Chesley threw over his shoulder. 'Get rid of i t'" ("Gus" in Cryptics , p. 373). The relationship between Chesley and Gus becomes warmer with time, as they discuss the problems of being a Catholic in today's world: “'Why did Augustine become a priest?' Chesley asked. 'I wanted,' Gus said, with the slightest stress on the first words, 'to get as close as I could to my Creator.' Thoughtfully, he added, 'I seem to have traveled far afield.' 'Sometimes I think,' Chesley said, 'the Creator hides himself too well.' 'Use his Church,' said Gus. 'That is why it is here.' 'It has changed.' “Of course it has changed. The world has changed.' 'The Church is supposed to be a rock.' 'Think of it rather as a refuge in a world that will not stand still.'" (op. cit., p. 382) Gus' sayings to the students become so unorthodox (he decries the doctrines/dogma of the infallibility of the Pope and the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary) that other faculty decided he should be downloaded to storage and traded in for a computer simulation of Thomas Aquinas (plus business software). Gus asks Msgr. Chesley to hear his Confession and then destroy him, so he can have peace: "'I require absolution, Matt.' Chesley pressed his right hand into his pocket. 'It would be sacrilege,' he whispered. 'And if I have a soul, Matt, if I too am required to face judgment,what then?' Chesley raised his right hand, slowly, and drew the sign of the cross in the thick air. 'I absolve you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.' 'Thank you...There’s something else I need you to do, Matt. This existence holds nothing for me. But I am not sure what downloading might mean.' 'What are you asking?” 'I want to be free of all this. I want to be certain I do not spend a substantial fraction of eternity in the storeroom.' Chesley trembled. 'If in fact you have an immortal soul,' he said, 'you may be placing it in grave danger.' 'And yours as well. I have no choice but to ask. Let us rely on the mercy of the Almighty.' Tears squeezed into Chesley’s eyes. He drew his finger- tips across the hard casing of the IBM. 'What do I do? I’m not familiar with the equipment.' 'Have you got the right computer?' 'Yes.' 'Take it apart. Turn off the power first. All you have to do is get into it and destroy the hard disk.' 'Will you—feel anything?' 'Nothing physical touches me, Matt.' Chesley found the power switch...He found a hammer and a Phillips screwdriver. He used the screwdriver to take the top off the computer. A gray metal box lay within. He opened it and removed a gleaming black plastic disk. He embraced it, held it to his chest. Then he set it down, and reached for the hammer. In the morning, with appropriate ceremony, he buried it in consecrated soil." (op.cit., pp.388-389) Even though I am moved to tears when I read this, do I believe that a computer program will have a personality, a soul? Not likely***. DOES DATA HAVE A SOUL? For those who aren't Trekkies, Data is the android navigator in the second Star Trek series, Star Trek: the Next Generation . He aspires to humanity and sometimes reaches and even surpasses that state. However, there is a problem in asking whether Data has a soul. The question is never considered in any of the episodes, possibly because the word "soul" (in its theological, not musical sense) is anathema to writers and producers of popular entertainment. So, in the episode, " The Measure of a Man ", the question "Is Data a sentient being" is asked, rather than "Does Data have a soul". The question is addressed in a trial , to see if Data, as a "sentient being", has the right to refuse to be disassembled for study and refitting. Captain Picard acts in Data's behalf and Commander Riker, under duress, as the prosecutor. Riker attempts to demonstrate that Data is a machine by switching him off: [Riker is doing his duty in the courtroom] Commander William T. Riker : The Commander is a physical representation of a dream - an idea, conceived of by the mind of a man. Its purpose: to serve human needs and interests. It's a collection of neural nets and heuristic algorithms; its responses dictated by an elaborate software written by a man, its hardware built by a man. And now... and now a man will shut it off. [Riker switches off Data, who slumps forward like a lifeless puppet] Commander William T. Riker : Pinocchio is broken. Its strings have been cut. ( The Measure of a Man, Quotes ) [Captain Picard gives a stirring defense, arguing that the question of whether Data is conscious--self-aware--has not and can not be settled any more than whether one can be certain that another person is conscious except by external behavior. And finally the question of soulhood is addressed minimally:] " Captain Phillipa Louvois [The Judge] : It sits there looking at me; and I don't know what it is. This case has dealt with metaphysics - with questions best left to saints and philosophers. I am neither competent nor qualified to answer those. But I've got to make a ruling, to try to speak to the future. Is Data a machine? Yes. Is he the property of Starfleet? No. We have all been dancing around the basic issue: does Data have a soul? [emphasis added] I don't know that he has. I don't know that I have. But I have got to give him the freedom to explore that question himself. It is the ruling of this court that Lieutenant Commander Data has the freedom to choose." [notice the shift from "it" to "he"] ( ibid ) And so Data is left free, and the question of whether he has a soul, undetermined -- as in the Scottish verdict, "Not Proven”. AND SO? In his book, " Our Lady of the Artilects ," Andrew Gillsmith raises fundamental questions about these basic articles of faith: good versus evil, who (or what) can have a soul and what constitutes a soul. The book is ranked 2nd by readers in the Good Reads survey of Catholic science fiction, right after that classic, "A Canticle for Leibowitz." In a review of the book on Catholic Stand I’ve discussed how Gillsmith addresses these issues, so I’ll refer the reader to that article. As a concluding comment, I’ll quote the last paragraph of that review: Philosophers and scientists have debated whether it be possible to create artificial intelligence that is conscious and self-aware (See “ Can Computers Have a Soul, ” and Chapter 6, A Science Primer for the Faithful. ) I vote for no. Nevertheless, science-fiction (speculative fiction) has used this device (and will presumably continue to do so) for parables defining the human condition. That knowledge, per se, is not enough for us is the message. Although the two wings of faith and reason are supposed to carry us humans to the truth, reason by itself is not enough to answer questions such as “why are we here?” Instead of hobbits, orcs and elves, Andrew Gillsmith, has used synths and humans in a moving and captivating story to illustrate this human condition and to suggest what God has in mind for us. Bob Kurland is a retired physicist with a colorful and diverse background. Known for his wit and candor, Kurland embarked on a remarkable journey that spans academia, spirituality, and community service. After a distinguished academic career, including earning his Bachelor of Science "with honor" from Caltech in 1951 and obtaining his Master's and Ph.D. from Harvard in Physics and Chemical Physics respectively, Kurland delved into the world of theoretical science. His contributions to the field are perhaps best exemplified by his seminal work, the "Kurland-McGarvey equation," a groundbreaking achievement that continues to influence scientific discourse. In 1995, Kurland experienced a profound spiritual transformation, converting to Catholicism. This newfound faith became a cornerstone of his life, guiding his actions and imbuing his endeavors with a sense of purpose. He dedicated himself to serving others, volunteering at federal prisons and hospitals, embodying the principles of compassion and empathy. In addition to his scholarly pursuits and philanthropic efforts, Kurland is a talented musician, proficient in a variety of instruments including the bass clarinet, alto clarinet, clarinet, bass, and tenor bowed psaltery. He generously shares his musical gifts as a member of the parish instrumental group and local folk group, enriching the community with his passion for music. Though retired from the academic arena, Kurland's inquisitive spirit and unwavering dedication to knowledge continue to inspire those around him. With his characteristic blend of intellect, humor, and compassion, he leaves an indelible mark on both the scientific and spiritual realms. Click the cover image to return to Spring 2024. Previous Next

The purpose of this essay is not to resolve, or even rehash, the Problem of Evil, but rather to situate the Problem of Evil in the context of an even broader problem that I call, ‘the Problem of Good’. < Back The Problem of Good David Cowles May 29, 2022 The purpose of this essay is not to resolve, or even rehash, the Problem of Evil, but rather to situate the Problem of Evil in the context of an even broader problem that I call, ‘the Problem of Good’. You’re familiar with the famous Problem of Evil. It’s an argument often advanced by non-believers against the existence of God. It runs something like this: “God is omniscient, omnipotent and all good. So, any world that includes God should be perfect. After all, God knows everything, does everything, and always acts out of perfectly benevolent intentions.” But when we take a close look at our world, it certainly does not appear to be perfect – not even close! “Wars, famines, and natural disasters fill our TV screens every evening. Humans routinely commit unspeakable acts of cruelty, directed at fellow humans, animals and even nature itself. Moreover, everyone ages, most eventually get sick and become infirm, and all die, often horribly. In such a world, surely there can be no room for God.” Theologians have confronted this reasoning for centuries, but they have not always done a very convincing job of answering it. The Book of Job, for example, is a long meditation on the Problem of Evil. Job records a number of proposed solutions to the Problem of Evil, but it finds fault with each one…and yet, Job never offers a solution of its own (see The Riddle of Job , also in this issue). Philosophers haven’t done much better. According to G. W. Leibniz, for example, the world we live in is the best of all possible worlds. Hard to see how! Finally, Carl Jung, Rabbi Harold Kushner, and others reject the basic premises of the argument. They assert that God can be ‘God’ without necessarily being omniscient, omnipotent, or benevolent, as these terms are normally understood. For Jung, God is neither omniscient nor benevolent. For Kushner, God is not omnipotent. The purpose of this essay is not to resolve, or even rehash, the Problem of Evil, but rather to situate the Problem of Evil in the context of an even broader problem that I call, ‘the Problem of Good.’ ****** As hard as it is to explain the phenomenon of Evil, it is much more difficult to account for the phenomenon of Good. In fact, the Problem of Evil turns out to be just a special case, and a degenerate one at that, of the much broader Problem of Good. Good and evil. We speak of them as though they were symmetrical opposites, perfect antonyms. But they are not! Good is the quality by which we recognize and measure all that is of ‘value’ in our world; whereas Evil, as Saint Augustine pointed out, is simply the absence of Good. Beauty is not merely the absence of ugliness; but ugliness is certainly the absence of beauty. Truth is not merely the absence of falsehood, but falsehood is certainly the absence of truth. Justice is not merely the absence of injustice; but injustice is certainly the absence of justice. And so, symmetry is broken! What is it we mean when we call an event ‘evil?’ We might mean that… the event is less ‘good’ than it could have been, or the event is less ‘good’ than possible alternative events, the event is on balance ‘less good than bad,’ the event is ‘pure evil,’ or Evil per se (e.g., Satan) A purely evil event is not possible (see above); nor can Evil by itself ever constitute an event. Evil is not something, but the ‘lack’ of something (i.e., the Good). So, while ‘a lack’ may play an important role in the development of an event, it can never be an ‘event’ per se. Yet, every day, we experience events that seem more evil than good…or at least less good than they might have been. Three assumptions underlie the so-called ‘Problem of Evil:’ Evil is an objective characteristic of certain events, not just the subjective reaction of an observer. At least most of the time, we can recognize evil when we see it. We can identify and label events as relatively ‘evil’ with an acceptable degree of accuracy. Most proposed solutions to the Problem of Evil begin with a denial of one or more of these assumptions: “You can’t say that an event is ‘evil’ if it might be better than any possible alternative.” “While an event might appear to be evil, it may be part of a larger complex of events (a ‘divine plan,’ for example) that will ultimately result in the greatest possible good.” Evil will always have its apologists. But non-believers are understandably unimpressed with this argument: “I can easily identify as ‘evil’ events for which better alternatives exist: the Holocaust, for example. If I can’t label events like the Holocaust as ‘evil’ then I have given in to radical moral skepticism, the ‘null point’ of all philosophy. “If we have to tolerate objectively evil events in order to get to ‘the greatest possible good,’ then maybe it isn’t the greatest possible good after all. The greatest possible good should be a good we can get to without tolerating evil along the way.” So Evil objectively characterizes certain events, and we can recognize it when we see it. But how? How do we recognize a lack? By comparing it to its opposite, real or imagined. And what is the opposite of Evil but Good? If Evil objectively characterizes certain events, or aspects of certain events, then the same must be said of Good. We must be able to recognize Good when we see it; but how? Good is not something we see directly when we experience events. What we see are its manifestations: Beauty, Truth, Justice, etc. We don’t even perceive these qualities directly. We perceive them only in the patterns formed by the concrete qualities that the event embodies. A painting, for example, is ‘good’ if it is ‘beautiful’ and it is beautiful if its lines, shapes, and colors form patterns that possess a certain indefinable, but nonetheless objective, aesthetic quality. A proposition is ‘good’ if it is ‘true’ and it is true if it is consistent with other true propositions and if it accounts for relevant details of experience. A law is ‘good’ if it is ‘just’ and it is just if it treats folks both according to their merits and with compassion. Two paintings side-by-side on a museum wall may well include the same hues and shapes, but one may be beautiful and the other not. Essential Beauty is a function of the pattern of hues and shapes, not the hues and shapes themselves. Two propositions may include the exact same words, but one proposition may be true and the other not; it depends on the pattern formed by those words. Two laws may include the same elements, but one may apply those elements justly and the other not; it depends on how those elements work together to achieve ‘good?’ Again, it is all about the pattern. So, in determining whether a painting is good, we need to apply certain aesthetic criteria; in determining whether a proposition is good, we need to apply certain logical and experimental criteria; in determining whether a law is good, we need to apply certain ethical criteria. But where do these criteria (values) come from? Where do they ‘reside?’ Not in or among the concrete elements that make up the painting, the proposition, or the law! For something to qualify as a ‘value’ with respect to certain ‘elements,’ it must transcend those elements. If we use a different yardstick to measure different entities, those measurements are suspect. If we vary our unit of distance each time we measure, then our measurements are meaningless. Although values transcend the entities, they qualify – they are not values if they don’t - they are by no means strangers to those entities. A value that is wholly transcendent is no better than a wholly immanent value. Values only function as values if they are shared by both the judge and the judged. For this reason, legal systems that achieve at least a degree of buy-in from all elements of society are often the most successful. Again, let’s be clear: justice is just per se; it doesn’t need anyone to buy-in. However, when it comes time to apply that value to specific situations, buy-in is extremely helpful. A corner of the universe without values that are both transcendent and immanent (shared) is a corner of the universe that does not exist. Everything we do, we do, guided by our values. Values play three distinct roles with respect to events: They provide the initial impetus that sets an event in motion. They constitute the concrete, initial aim of that event. They form the objective criteria (yardstick) by which that event must ultimately be judged (or measured). Every event is subject to evaluation according to these ‘objective criteria’ precisely because every event shapes itself in response to those criteria. Therefore, values are both wholly immanent (as goals) and entirely transcendent (as measures). How is that possible? On the surface, it isn’t! According to the standard ‘secular’ model, the universe is a self-contained, self-explanatory phenomenon – a flat, ontologically democratic world where entities (events) are just facts…and nothing more. Events may refer to one another (e.g., cause and effect) but they cannot rely on anything that transcends them, anything beyond their collective selves because the model stipulates that there is nothing beyond their collective selves. Ludwig Wittgenstein famously wrote, “No statement of facts can ever be, or imply, a judgment of absolute value…(because) all the facts described would, as it were, stand on the same level.” In Twilight of the Gods, Nietzsche wrote, “…There exists nothing which could judge, measure, compare, condemn our being, for that would be to judge, measure, compare, condemn the whole… But nothing exists apart from the whole!” According to these two models, human beings do whatever they do, for whatever reasons they do, and who are we to judge? Sound familiar? But if we believe that values are objectively real, we can’t settle for this sort of secular agnosticism. The Problem of Evil asks how an imperfect world can be reconciled with the existence of a perfect God. Instead, I pose the Problem of Good: in an ontologically flat (vs. hierarchical) universe (Nietzsche’s ‘universe’ for example), how can there be any objective values? And if there aren’t any objective values, how can there be any experience of Good? Specifically, how would we know whether something was ‘good’ or not, and how would we recognize the ‘good’ in an unfolding event? I am reminded of my grammar school days. A flat universe is the cosmological equivalent of letting students grade themselves without any need to justify those grades and without any accountability for the grades themselves, for the accuracy of those grades, or for the quality of the work being graded. For a pre-teen boy in the 1950s, this was Shangri-La. But unfortunately, that’s not how things worked in Sister Mary Francis’s 5th grade classroom. Neither is it the way things work in the universe! An event consists of three groups of elements: concrete elements (qualities) inherited from the event’s actual world (i.e., from other events), an element of novelty that every event must inject into the process of concrescence (no novelty, no event), and the transcendent elements (values) that motivate and guide the event from stem to stern and that ultimately characterize the entity’s ‘objective immortality.’ To the extent that events consist of concrete physical (i.e., historical) elements, they are temporal; to the extent that events consist of values, they are eternal. There are no ‘events’ without ‘values;’ therefore, Good is the eternal aspect of everything that exists. Corollary: to the extent that an event is ‘good,’ it is eternal, and to the extent that an event is eternal, it is good! Can we detour to Genesis for just one moment? “Then God said, ‘Let there be light, and there was light. God saw that the light was good…evening came, and morning followed – the first day.’” (Gen. 1: 3 – 5) The authors of Genesis waste no time! Just two verses into the very first book of the Old Testament, and they are already making it clear that ‘Good’ is the prerequisite of ‘Be.’ God makes no mistakes. Even so, he checks his work, and it is not until ‘God saw that the light was good’ that the ‘first day’ was ‘in the can.’ According to 20th century British philosopher Alfred North Whitehead, every potential event can be expressed in the form of a ‘proposition.’ Values are what turn propositions into events. We are often reminded that ‘change is the only constant’ in our world. That is true as applied to the material and historical elements of that world; it is not true of values. Values are not subject to change, period. If values could change, how could we call them ‘values?’ And how could they function as standards of judgment? That said, the concrete application of these values to temporal events will vary from judge to judge and from event to event. But each one of those events should be judged using the same set of uber-values as the criterion. So, where are we? We rejected the idea that ‘Good’ can somehow emerge spontaneously from a set of events which, in aggregate and by themselves, must initially be assumed to be value neutral. To be is to be an event, or at least to be an element in an event. All events are characterized by a particular selection, emphasis and arrangement of values, applied to a unique ‘actual world.’ How can values that transcend our temporal world still play a necessary role in that world? So far as I can see, there is one and only one possible solution to this paradox: there must be an event that consists solely of values without any physical or historical contribution. Because, by definition, there is no physical or historical contribution to this event, the event cannot not occur in spacetime. It must occur ‘beyond’ spacetime. Because it occurs outside spacetime, it avoids the limitations normally imposed on emerging events by spacetime itself. This ‘special event’ has no physical or historical elements, yet it is eminently ‘real;’ therefore, it must participate in at least one other emerging event. And because it is outside spacetime, and is in the actual world of at least one other emerging event, it must then be in the actual world of every such event, past, present, and future. Therefore, this ‘special event’ is both immanent and transcendent: Immanent, because it lies in the actual world of every other event and because it motivates and guides each such event. Transcendent, because it is universal and eternal. Therefore, it is the one common event by which all other events may be measured and judged. Every other entity, by definition, must include selected ‘concrete’ elements as well as values and must have the potential to arrange those elements into patterns that are beautiful, truthful, just, ethical, loving, aware, etc. The values that constitute the ‘special event’ form a pattern to which all other patterns are called to confirm. Composed entirely of values that exist outside spacetime, but participate in the constitution of every event inside spacetime. If all this sounds strange and esoteric, it isn’t! In fact, it is totally ordinary and mundane. There already is a perfectly common word that we use whenever we refer to this ‘special event:’ That word is God. Some folks who have followed us this far may leave here. The introduction of ‘God’ into the conversation may be a bridge too far for them. But I would ask those folks to be patient and reflective. The logic of our argument is difficult to escape. Like it or not, there doesn’t seem to be any other way to account for the world as we experience it. Apparently, there is a God after all! So, let’s sum up. What have we demonstrated? We have shown that… The ‘Problem of Evil’ assumes that there are objective values and that those values may (actually, must) be relied on whenever we evaluate an event. We recognize Evil as the absence of those qualities we call ‘good.’ These qualities are the objective values that, by their presence or absence, allow us to recognize Good and Evil in our world. Those same objective values are found in every entity at its origin. Those values influence (but do not determine) the evolution of those events. They constitute the standard by which all events will (must) ultimately be judged. These objective values are both immanent and transcendent. For values to be immanent, they must be embodied in an actual event. For values to be transcendent, that event must occur outside of space and time. The event must be a-temporal, i.e., eternal. There can be but one such event – an event consisting entirely of values and constituted outside of time; we call this entity “God”. And now, if we accept these premises, we know that such an entity must, in fact, exist. So, have we proven the existence of God, the holy grail of philosophy for millennia? Not quite! What I hope we have done is define a very narrow set of conditions one must accept in order to deny God’s existence: Either Good and Evil do not exist (ontological nihilism); or Good and Evil do exist, but they do no not objectively characterize events (ethical nihilism); or Good and Evil do exist, and they do objectively characterize events, but we cannot recognize Good and Evil with anything close to an acceptable degree of accuracy (epistemological nihilism). So, it’s perfectly logical to deny the existence of God, but if you do so, you must be prepared to accept ethical nihilism, ontological nihilism (which could include solipsism), or epistemological nihilism. These are Macbeth’s three witches, Wagner’s three norns, the ‘null points’ of philosophy. So, it turns out that the Problem of Evil backfires! Based on its core assumptions, it morphs into the Problem of Good. In this new form, it strongly supports the very thesis it was designed to debunk, namely that God exists. David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com. Share Previous Next Do you like what you just read? Subscribe today and receive sneak previews of Aletheia Today Magazine articles before they're published. Plus, you'll receive our quick-read, biweekly blog, Thoughts While Shaving. Subscribe Thanks for subscribing! Click here. Return to Table of Contents, Winter 2023 Issue Return to Table of Contents, Holiday Issue Return to Table of Contents, Halloween Issue Return to Table of Contents, September Issue Return to Table of Contents, Beach Issue Return to Table of Contents, June Issue

< Back Refresh the Crèche Deidre Braley "Maybe it was that I, myself, had just given birth—but as I held the perfectly composed Mary in my hand, she no longer felt believable." A bejeweled nativity scene sits atop our mantle every year at Christmastime. Despite baby Jesus’ missing arm (somewhere in the handing down, he came down one hand ), the whole crèche is quite elegant. The camel looks regal in his saddle, the livestock are radiant, and the three wise men wear gems upon their fashionable turbans. Mary is glowing in golden frocks—naturally—and Joseph remains stoic, despite having just witnessed the horrific, beautiful shock called childbirth. All of the figures are white, clean, and blushing. I studied each figure this year as I unwrapped them from fragments of bubble wrap and paper towels, blowing a dead fly from Jesus’ cradle. In past seasons, I have felt a swelling in my throat as I unveiled and arranged the scene with nostalgic care. But this year felt different. Maybe it was that I, myself, had just given birth—but as I held the perfectly composed Mary in my hand, she no longer felt believable. She was no warm-blooded woman who had just had a baby without medical care or epidural; she was just cold and ceramic. The same went for the wooly sheep, gleaming white despite living in a barn, and baby Jesus, looking resplendent with his crown of golden hair and impressive pectoral muscles. I’m sure these figurines were fashioned by well-intentioned people—devout Christians, even—who meant for such finery to display the glory of the Lord and the divinity of his birth. Won’t these look beautiful on the mantle, I bet they sighed, imagining families across the world gazing upon the flaxen scene and feeling the comforts of Christmas. But in that moment, I was struck by the irony that this crèche meant to point us toward Jesus’ wondrous demonstration of humility had the odd effect of removing it, instead. These figurines were decked out and dignified; they weren’t at all the type one might feel akin to. How odd, I thought. I want to be drawn to these, but they feel so…lofty. I couldn’t help but notice that this nativity’s portrayal of Jesus made me feel distant from him, looking so magisterial there in his manger. Jesus’ birth should remind us that holiness cohabitates with the common. So why do we feel inclined to dress up the humble bits in emeralds and gold? Sure: a bedazzled manger looks lovely amongst our twinkling lights and hand-me-down heirlooms, but do we inadvertently set Jesus aside when we make him look like the least believable human of all time? Do we begin to see him as ethereal—with his flowing locks and bulging biceps—and fail to grasp that he was born in the same bloody fashion that we all were, that his entrance to the world was plebeian as the rest of ours? When we admire his ceramic countenance upon our mantles, do we miss that God actually stooped down and became fully man—coming down to us so we could walk alongside him? Have we still not grasped that the Lord doesn’t give a hoot about finery or putting on airs? It is Christ’s example of humility, and not haughtiness, that draws us toward him. And yet, we perpetuate the narrative that he is untouchable and unlike us by adorning him with jewels. We reject the revelation that Paul writes about in Phillipians: “...Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of man” (2:5-7). Jesus demonstrated his total power in the way he neither clutched it nor strutted it about; he could become a baby who relied on his mother for milk and diaper changes without losing an ounce of his majesty. Gaudy portrayals of Jesus’ birth reveal we don’t understand his true majesty—or his heart—at all. They remind me of the final scene from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade , when Indy and the antagonist Walter Donovan both guess which cup is the Holy Grail. Amidst a dazzling selection of chalices, Donovan chooses a golden goblet that’s set with emeralds, while Indy reaches for a dusty and well-worn cup in the back. Donovan drinks from his goblet and instantly turns to a mummified shell of himself. (In the words of the ancient knight protecting the grail: “He chose…poorly.”) Indy, on the other hand, chooses wisely, and in doing so, avoids mummification and uses it to save his mortally wounded father. The lesson from this scene is clear: Donovan failed to choose the correct cup because he did not actually know Jesus; if he had, he would have known that he is “gentle and lowly in heart,” and that the humblest cup actually represented his power best. Why does it matter? you may be asking. Why can’t this girl just sip her eggnog and leave our pretty nativities alone? It’s because I desperately need Jesus to be real . I need him to be a man who ate fish and warmed himself beside fires and wept aloud and bled red blood. I, like Thomas, need to be able to hold his hands in my own and put my fingers in the places where he was pierced so that I can believe that resurrection is really true and not just some happy fable we can tell the children. I can’t make do with pretty, substanceless things . I am not comforted by white ceramic skin and a muscular baby in his shimmering trough. I am not kindred to a Mary who smiles as though she didn’t just give birth in a cave. And I have no business with rubies or emeralds, royalty or riches. I need Jesus, the baby who cluster feeds and pulls his mother’s hair. I need Mary and Joseph, the young kids who had a baby together and weren’t even married. I need to see sheep and cows with manure stuck to their coats, and a camel that looks travel-worn and moody. I need to see wise men with weathered skin and relieved faces, because they trusted God about this baby and they half-can’t-believe he’s really here. And the rest of the world needs that too. I can say that with confidence, because isn’t that the very reason Jesus bothered to humble himself in the first place, to empty himself of pretense, to take on a form we could relate to? So that we—dusty and broken and limping as we are—could somehow look at the Master of the Universe and believe we could draw close? We have a high priest that can sympathize with our weakness. This truth is ground-breaking, counterintuitive, ingenious, earth-shattering. His ability to sympathize with our weakness is one of his greatest gifts to humanity—so why are we so hesitant to portray it? So I guess this is just me, on behalf of the drunks and the postpartum mothers, making the case for a crèche that reveals Jesus’ humanity. It is me, along with the tow-truck drivers and nail technicians and juvenile delinquents, who need to see the earthiness of his birth. We do not need more imagery that makes Jesus inaccessible or unbelievable. Keep the jewels and wooly white animals. Give us instead reminders of how he entered this world amidst dirty surroundings, so that he could grow to walk with dirty people, washing our filthy feet and filthier hearts. Yes, this is the Jesus this world needs. This is the Jesus that God actually sent. And this is the Jesus I want to gaze upon—at Christmas, and all the other times of the year, too. Deidre Braley is a freelance writer and editor. She lives in Maine with her husband and two children, and most days can be found savoring an overly cheesy bagel or drinking a second cup of coffee while working on her weekly newsletter, The Second Cup . She is a strong believer in the power of poetry, picking roadside flowers, and blowing past small talk at all costs. Follow her on Instagram @deidresecondcup or on Facebook — she loves meeting new friends. Return to Yuletide 2023 Previous Next

< Back Paul Gauguin Was Wrong David Cowles Jun 20, 2024 “Within a work of art, there is no space or time. There is no sequence. The work is a whole, a quantum; it cannot be vivisected.” Paul Gaugin believed that art did not stop at the edge of a canvas. For him, the frame was part of the work itself, as was the broader exhibition environment. Gauguin’s proposals blur the boundary between ‘natural beauty’ and ‘artistic beauty’, but he may be forgiven. Beauty is beauty after all. That said, the transcendental value we call ‘Beauty’ inheres in different materials in different ways. Nature and art can both be beautiful, but they are beautiful differently - a distinction that deserves to be respected. In the Arnold Arboretum (Jamaica Plain, Boston), there is a tree we call The Merlin Tree : stately, complex, beautiful. And the artist? No, not God, at least not directly. The artist is Nature itself, aka the Cosmos. How so? What I lovingly know as Merlin is the product of a single DNA molecule (seed) which in turn is the product of 4 billion years of evolution. There’s a lot of history in those limbs. But that’s only half the story. Merlin is also the product of its environment. From its hillside vantage, Merlin is shaped by the contents of the soil, the frequency of rain, the strength of sunlight, the velocity of wind, the weight of snow, the character and intensity of cosmic radiation, etc. Ultimately, Merlin is the product of the tree’s own generative impulse interacting with the push-and-pulls of its environment. It is a product of the Universe recursively interacting with itself. As such, it is sui generis . Sidebar : What manner of thing is Nature that Beauty inherits in it? In everyone’s life there are times when the physical world seems enchanted . Colors are brighter. Buildings radiate light, like icons, instead of absorbing or reflecting it. No, you’re not having a stroke! This is the way the world actually is , even though you experience it this way only in maddeningly brief bursts. Want to experience this enchantment more often and for longer periods? No problem! Just fall in love. Or heed Jesus’ advice and ‘become again as a little child’ (Mt. 18: 3). Or read Ulysses . All trees are beautiful, but not equally so, and not all in the same way. The sensible features of Merlin reflect natural forces; the Beauty that those features reveal does not. Beauty is not a function of Nature; it is the immanence of the Transcendent. Beauty, Truth, and Justice are Transcendent Values. They owe their being to a higher power. Make no mistake, “a kiss is just a kiss,” and a tree is just a tree, but ‘the beauty’ of the tree does not reside in the tree itself. It is a function of the tree’s participation in the Universe and the participation of the Transcendent in the tree. Joyce Kilmer nailed it! Well, half of it. He wrote, “Only God can make a tree.” A tree, and everything else we see in Nature, is ultimately an expression of the entirety. It takes a Cosmos to raise a twig! It is unclear where a tree ends and its environment begins: the leaves, the rain drops that cling to its leaves, the glint of sunlight off those leaves, the parasites that chew the leaves, the symbionts that protect the leaves, the breeze that ruffles the leaves, the gales that strip the leaves; the roots, the fungi that grow alongside those roots, the ‘wood wide web’ formed by those fungi, mediating communication between trees in a forest. Nature is like Pand o. . Everything in nature is connected to everything else so that each thing is ultimately an expression of the whole – a highly focused, massively non-linear expression. Art is a totally different kettle of fish! First, any work of art is a rupture in the fabric of Spacetime. Art is ‘no space’ amid space, ‘no time’ within time; and within a work of art, there is no space or time. There is no sequence. The work is a whole, a quantum; it cannot be vivisected. Of course, the work depends on canvas and paint. These things are in the physical world and they do occupy a region of spacetime. But they are not the work of art itself. The artist transubstantiates those materials into a pattern that transcends its material substructure. Is the word ‘transubstantiate’ out of place here? Perhaps. The paint and the canvas do still enjoy a physical existence…from certain perspectives. But from the perspective of the art itself, they do not. They are merely ‘the appearance’ under which the ‘substance’ of the work, the pattern, is revealed. Conceivably, the artist could have used any tube of ochre to produce the same image. Or the same tube of ochre could have been used to make innumerable other paintings. While not fully analogic, the paint and canvas do play a role in art somewhat similar to the role played by bread and wine in the Eucharist. A work of art is entirely self-contained. It needs a frame just for that reason. There can be no ambiguity re where one ‘world’ ends and another begins. A work of art must be finite so that it can reveal the infinite. Gaugin was proposing that works of art have only limited autonomy from their environments. At the material level this is true, but not at the conceptual level. A painting has nothing to do with its frame. (The same painting is often reframed many times.) Ideally, a work of art is entirely unaffected by the environment in which it is exhibited. Just listen to Dr. Seuss: “I do not like them in a house, I do not like them with a mouse, I do not like them here or there, I do not like them anywhere, I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them, Sam-i-am.” Image: Paul Gauguin, Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going?, 1897–1898, Oil on canvas, Post Impressionism, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Keep the conversation going. 1. Click here to comment on this TWS. 2. To subscribe (at no cost) to TWS and ATM, follow this link . 3. We encourage new articles and reprints from freelance writers ; click here to view out Writers’ Specs. Previous Share Next Do you like what you just read and want to read more Thoughts? Subscribe today for free! Thoughts While Shaving - the official blog of Aletheia Today Magazine. Click here.

< Back My MD Should Be a Bot David Cowles Jul 10, 2025 “AI is 4 times better at diagnosing complex medical conditions than MDs. This…could be the death knell for the traditional practice of medicine.” In an earlier post on this site, My PCP Should be a Bot , we argued that AI could take over many of the mundane tasks associated with Primary Care and assist physicians with their other, higher level functions. It is clear now that we undershot the mark…by a wide margin. Yes, AI has a place in Primary Care, but it has a much larger role to play in Specialty Care, especially in advanced diagnostics. Microsoft reports that AI consumer products like Bing and Copilot see over 50 million health-related inquiries every day. Search engines and AI companions are quickly becoming the new front line in healthcare. But this is only scratching the surface of what’s possible. AI can do more, much more; it can be transformational. Along with CRISPR and Bespoke Medicine (N = 1), AI can be part of a huge advance in population health. Toward the end of 2024, Microsoft launched a dedicated consumer health effort, led by clinicians, designers, engineers, and AI scientists. But for AI to make a real difference, clinicians and patients alike must be able to trust its performance. No surprise here. New technologies always entail an adoption curve. Is it safe to drive one of them newfangled horseless carriages? Or fly in one those aero planes? (I mean, if God wanted us to fly, wouldn’t he have given us wings?) But 100 years later, we have Carvana and Travelocity. To practice medicine in the United States, physicians need to pass the United States Medical Licensing Examination (USMLE), a rigorous and standardized assessment of clinical knowledge and decision making. USMLE questions were among the earliest benchmarks used to evaluate AI’s competence. Not surprisingly, generative AI has now advanced to the point of scoring near-perfect scores on the USMLE and similar exams. But these tests primarily rely on multiple-choice questions, which favor memorization over deep understanding. By reducing medicine to one-shot answers on multiple-choice questions, such benchmarks undoubtedly overstate the apparent competence of AI systems and obscure their limitations. No one’s going to trust a Bot to manage a loved one’s healthcare purely because it performed well on some standardized test. Algorithmic medicine might rely on discrete answers to specific questions but ars medica , the art of medicine, requires clinical reasoning capability. How does it perform on ‘sequential diagnosis’, a cornerstone of real-world medical decision making.  In this process, a clinician begins with an initial patient presentation and then iteratively selects questions and diagnostic tests to arrive at a final diagnosis. For example, a patient presenting with cough and fever may lead the clinician to order and review blood tests and a chest X-ray before they feel confident enough to diagnose pneumonia. Each week, the New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM) – one of the world’s leading medical journals – publishes a Case Record of the Massachusetts General Hospital, presenting a patient’s care journey in a detailed, narrative format. These cases are among the most diagnostically complex and intellectually demanding in clinical medicine, often requiring multiple specialists and diagnostic tests to reach a definitive diagnosis. How does AI perform in this arena? Surely here we need the empathy and imagination of a well-trained and highly experienced human agent. To answer these questions, Microsoft created a series of interactive diagnostic challenges based on 304 recent NEJM case studies. Clinicians, be they AI Bots or human physicians, were able to ask iterative questions and order appropriate tests. As information became available, the clinicians could update their reasoning, gradually leading to a final diagnosis. This diagnosis can then be compared to the gold-standard outcome published in the NEJM. Each requested investigation also incurs a (virtual) cost, reflecting real-world healthcare expenditures so we can evaluate performance across two key dimensions: diagnostic accuracy and resource expenditure.  The Microsoft AI Diagnostic Orchestrator (MAI-DxO) is a system designed to emulate a virtual panel of physicians with diverse diagnostic approaches collaborating to solve cases.  Orchestrator can integrate diverse data sources. It can turn any LLM into a ‘panel’ of virtual clinicians that can ask follow-up questions, order tests, deliver a diagnosis, and then run a cost check before deciding to proceed.  MAI-DxO paired with OpenAI’s o3 correctly solved 85.5% of the NEJM benchmark cases. Pretty good! But how does this compare with the recommendations of real life, flesh and blood specialists? For comparison, Microsoft created a panel of 21 practicing physicians from the US and UK, each with 5-20 years of clinical experience. On the same tasks, these experts achieved a mean accuracy of…wait for it…just 20%. Astonishing! AI is 4 times better at diagnosing complex medical conditions than MDs. This is a shot in the arm for AI assisted medicine but, more importantly and quite unexpectedly, this could be the death knell for the traditional practice of medicine. What are we missing? Is our AI system ordering every possible test – regardless of cost, patient discomfort, or delays in care? Nope! MAI-DxO is configured to operate within defined cost constraints. This allows for explicit exploration of the cost-value trade-offs inherent in diagnostic decision making. In fact, Microsoft found that MAI-DxO delivered both higher diagnostic accuracy and lower overall testing costs than physicians. Microsoft’s findings also suggest that AI reduces unnecessary healthcare costs – not so surprising given that 25% of U.S. healthcare spending is wasted on interventions that are inappropriate for the patient’s actual condition. So how can we account for this amazing result? On the plus side, no single physician, no team of physicians, can span the full complexity of the NEJM case series. There is always one more voice to be heard. AI, on the other hand, doesn’t face this limitation; it can blend breadth and depth of expertise. But the discrepancy is so glaring that we cannot escape the conjecture that something ‘not so good’ must be happening at the physicians’ end of the see-saw. Follow-up studies should focus on why flesh and blood ‘agents’ perform so poorly. Are they overworked? Are their information systems outdated? Do they have a harder time moving past their initial ‘blink’ diagnoses, even when evidence is pointing in another direction. Or are they limited by inappropriate sociological biases based on things like the patient’s gender, race, age, occupation, education level, income, or zip code? But there is an overwhelming sense that such follow-up studies, important though they are, will amount to just rearranging deck chairs on The Titanic . If Microsoft’s findings are confirmed, traditional medicine is dead…period. The big question now is how long it will take society ‘to stop life support and pronounce’. There is a meme of unknown origin that states that it was not until 1900 that medicine did more good than harm. The Microsoft study suggests that that assessment might be wildly overoptimistic. A better meme might be, “When will medicine finally begin to do more good than harm?” Will the healthcare profession hasten the achievement of that benchmark…or retard it?” Brutal…I know; but consider what’s at stake! Rembrandt. The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp. 1632, oil on canvas, 216.5 × 169.5 cm. Mauritshuis, The Hague. Baroque, Dutch Golden Age. Rembrandt’s The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp captures a pivotal moment in the history of medicine—when science, observation, and education began to challenge traditional, experience-based practice. In much the same way, today’s AI diagnostic systems, like Microsoft’s MAI-DxO, are disrupting the modern medical profession. The painting shows medicine as a spectacle of human intellect dissecting the unknown; now, AI replaces the demonstrator’s scalpel with data-driven precision, automating what was once a learned, manual, and interpretive act. The cadaver becomes a metaphor for how patient care risks being depersonalized in the era of algorithmic medicine. Previous Share Next Do you like what you just read and want to read more Thoughts? Subscribe today for free! Thoughts While Shaving - the official blog of Aletheia Today Magazine. Click here.

< Back Jacob the Patriarch David Cowles Dec 21, 2023 “Jacob was a bit of a rascal. He was a wimpy kid who cheated his brother and perhaps his employer to line his own pockets… (he) is ‘the patriarch for the rest of us.’” The relationship of Biblical stories to modern life is sometimes uncanny. Take the story of Jacob, for instance (Genesis 25–31). He is the third Patriarch of Israel, following Abraham and Isaac. His life story, like so many of our own, falls naturally into three distinct periods. First, Jacob’s youth. Genesis tracks Jacob’s curriculum vitae from conception; it even provides details of his mother’s pregnancy. Jacob turns out to be the second born of two twins, though he struggled with his brother (Esau) in Rebecca’s womb, each boy trying his best to secure the right of primogenitor. Like the not-always-so-cute twin boys down the street, Esau and Jacob competed for their parents’ affection. Esau, a ruddy athlete and an accomplished hunter, won Dad’s heart, while Jacob, the more introspective of the two, was the apple of Mom’s eye. What Jacob could not win with strength in the womb, he won with cunning in the world. Through a series of ruses, he wrested the right of primogenitor from Esau. When Jacob came of age, childhood over, Isaac blessed him and sent him out into the world to win wife and wealth. Retracing the route of his family’s historic migration to Canaan, Jacob traveled back across the Euphrates to the city of Harar, once home to his grandfather, Abraham. There, he worked for his uncle, Laban. Over time, Jacob earned the right to wed Laban’s two daughters; after 20 years, he left his uncle’s employ, taking with him his spouses and his children, a retinue, and flocks of goats, sheep, camels, donkeys, etc. ‘Rabbit is rich!’ Jacob has aced adulthood. But now he must return to his roots. He needs to reconcile with his brother and reconnect with his father. His narrative picks up right where it left off…after a 20-year hiatus. Sidebar : In Jacob’s era, life expectancy was just a bit more than half what it is today; Jacob’s story reflects that. He was probably no older than 15 when he received his father’s blessing and headed off toward Harar to make his fortune. Likewise, his period of production & procreation spanned just 20 years, compared to our usual 40. That still left the average male up to 15 years to enjoy the fruits of his labor and to reflect on the meaning of his adventures. There’s a lot of Jacob in all of us. Compared to heroic Abraham and holy Isaac, Jacob was a bit of a rascal. He was a wimpy kid who cheated his brother and perhaps his employer to line his own pockets. It’s a plot straight out of Succession …or Washington, D.C. Most of us would be more than happy to receive a ‘Gentlemen’s C’ from St. Peter. Even a C- would do nicely, thank you. A few of us might aspire to sainthood (B’s) but I doubt if any of us is seriously striving to be a patriarch. (That takes an A and only three confirmed A’s have ever been given out…though rumor has it that Job, Jesus, Peter and Paul may be on the list as well). Enough of Jacob; let’s get back to us. By hook or by crook, we just managed to get through childhood when suddenly we found ourselves confronted with the need to earn a living and, perhaps, support a family. Like Jacob’s labors, our work in the world is all-consuming; we have little time for whatever existential concerns remain unresolved. But kids grow up, and careers come to an end, happily or otherwise, at retirement. We no longer bear the full weight of the world on our shoulders. We are free to turn our attention back to ourselves. Who we are is once again more important than what we do. Now back to Jacob. He worked hard for Laban and produced great wealth, which benefited Laban and his family for 20 years, but he did it using Laban’s capital. When the time came for Jacob to depart with his ‘earnings’, Laban’s sons protested. Whose dollar is it? But Jacob didn’t wait around for a panel of ‘bent’ judges to rule against him; he did ‘what was right in his own eyes’ (Judges 21:25). He took what he thought he deserved and made off for Canaan. And so the first shot was fired in the war between capital and labor – a battle that is still raging today. Every time a union is formed, every time a strike is called, and every time a corporation pays a dividend to its shareholders or a bonus to its executives, you’re hearing the rumble of this war. Back in his home country, Jacob assumed the role of peacekeeper. He made a covenant with Laban, who had pursued him across the Euphrates. He reconciled with his brother Esau after conferring on him huge gifts of livestock. He slaughtered men who had raped his daughter, and he did his best to promote peace among his own warring sons. He followed the way of Voltaire: he tended his own garden. In this Jacob embodied the Eschaton, when ‘the wolf will lie down with the lamb’. “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” We are all called to make peace – not to eliminate differences, but to transform intensity-dampening conflicts into intensity-enhancing contrasts. The world needs Abrahams and Issacs and Jobs, for sure, but Jacob offers a different model of sainthood. Jacob is ‘the patriarch for the rest of us’. Like us, he swims in uncharted waters, trying to find a channel between survival, self-interest, duty and fairness. How’d he do? I doubt many of us would give him a ‘10’. But he did good enough to please God, and what else matters? Image: 14th century. Fresco. Pomposa Abbey, Codorigo, Italy. The story is from Genesis 27:1-40. The image does not follow it in a linear order. At left, Esau goes hunting with bow and arrow to get meat for a meal for his blind father, Isaac. At right, Jacob comes to his father and claims to be Esau with a dish he has prepared from the game he caught. Believing that this is Esau, Isaac gives him his blessing. In the middle, Esau has returned and is bringing his father another dish with game from his hunt. He will be distraught when he learns of Jacob's trick, which has left him without his father's blessing. Keep the conversation going! 1. Click here to comment on this TWS. 2. To subscribe (at no cost) to TWS and ATM, follow this link . 3. We encourage new articles and reprints from freelance writers ; click here to view out Writers’ Specs. Previous Share Next Do you like what you just read and want to read more Thoughts? Subscribe today for free! Thoughts While Shaving - the official blog of Aletheia Today Magazine. Click here.