Godheval

Despite my attempts to shut out the world through escapism, it’s impossible to avoid all the little glimpses, being so connected through all of the RSS feeds, news subscriptions, and social networking sites.  Change.org is especially troublesome in how it keeps me abreast of all the travesties taking place all throughout the world, like child slavery being used to create chocolate, or the situation in Iran.

These travesties periodically lead me to a particular train of thought, but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed it publicly.  On the question of gods’ existence, my answer remains a “maybe”, and even a “I hope so”, and I’ve even gone so far as to offer theoretical explanations as to the very nature of a god or gods.

In considering the nature of god or gods, we inevitably come to two questions:

1. Are the gods all-knowing and/or all-powerful?
2. Are the gods benevolent?

By my analysis, it is impossible for the answer to be “yes” to both of these questions.  If the gods are all-knowing and all-powerful, then we often ask why they would allow tragedy and suffering?  Some people answer that it is all part of a divine plan, beyond our understanding.  And perhaps it is all for some greater good.  But if this is true, then the gods cannot be said to be benevolent, because to be all-powerful and benevolent would preclude the allowance of suffering.

I was watching the Democratic debate in New Hampshire which took place on June 3rd, hoping to see how Kucinich weighed in against the other candidates. But I didn’t get to see too much of him, and that brought something critical to my attention. Kucinich, more than any other candidate was marginalized throughout the debate. Not even a third as many questions were addressed or even fielded to him as were to the other candidates. The debate was dominated by Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and John Edwards, who – not so coincidentally I imagine – were positioned at the center of the stage, while Kucinich and Gravel, the two most liberal candidates, were placed on the far left and right sides.

As much planning as goes into these things, there is no doubt in my mind that these logistics were intentional. So why would Kucinich be marginalized? Perhaps because the debate was regulated by CNN, a mass media network, and Kucinich espouses two things which run contrary to their interests – open debates (meaning not media controlled) and media reform – addressing things such as breaking up the monopolies of the big conglomerates and diminishing the power of their lobby. The interplay of politics and the media creates an interesting spectacle…

On a completely unrelated note, I have another interesting discovery for today. Apparently, the relationships between the distances between sun and earth, moon and earth, and the sizes of the sun and moon make it so that from earth the sun and moon appear virtually the exact same size. To put it more clearly, the ratio of sun distance to sun size and the ratio of moon distance to moon size are the SAME. This is why full eclipses are even possible.

Now considering the mythic significance of the sun and moon in cultures throughout the world, and that the Earth is the only planet where such a relationship exists, doesn’t this seem to be an uncanny coincidence? While I’m not saying that it necessitates divine design, it definitely makes one wonder. We may say – and it may even be true – that natural selection, either gradually or by punctuated equilibrum, can account for all of the complex life forms on the planet and all of the complex relationships between them. But once you leave earth, Darwin’s idea cannot count for apparent instances of design. This really is no small thing. But coincidence or divinely intended, it is certainly remarkable.

What is a person’s identity?

A conglomeration of ideas built on top of one another, itself built on top of a set of biological imperatives, all collectively bent towards preservation. I have identified 9 “types” corresponding to the composition of being – the different levels at which identity is constructed or redefined, all of which can be examined in order to determine how they shape our identity.

The genotype is constructed from a blend of genes from two parents, the genes then expressed through probability by way of the phenotype. At some point during our early childhood we learn to distinguish ourselves from our external environment. We subscribe to the idea of “self”, which has both conscious and unconscious manifestations – together called the endotype. The advent of self also gives birth to the idea of “other”, the essential crisis of human consciousness.

Throughout the course of our lives, we are influenced in various ways by our external environment, our interactions with it providing positive or negative feedback. From there we start to form a growing understanding of the relationship between self and other, in places reconciling the two – as we do in forming bonds with other people, and in places maintaining a certain distance or dissonance, such as competition for resources or mates. The total effect of the external world on a being is its exotype.

As we interact with our external environment, developing impressions of other beings, those other beings also develop certain perceptions of us, either through direct interaction or filtered through pre-existent identification paradigms such as race, religion, gender, or nationality. Our identity as perceived by others, which is infinitely variable, is known as the ectotype. This also means that we construct an ectotype for every other being with which we interact. We integrate into our identity different ectotypes from individuals whose impressions we value for any reason, or that which is projected onto us from the greater society.

Ectotypes affect our interactions with others, that is, they determine how those others treat us, whether they accept us or reject us, like or dislike us, admire or scorn us. This in turn can have an affect on how we see ourselves, either validating and reinforcing our self-image or creating a disparity which puts the endotype into crisis. All of these interactions are a part of how the external environment influences our being, and so in this way there is a triangular interplay between endotype, ectotype, and exotype.

How this interplay shapes our identity is both conscious and subconscious. Sometimes we are not even aware of how we make changes to our identity in order to make ourselves more “fit” for the external environment. Physical adaptations are obvious, while cultural adaptations can take place on a level beneath awareness. Humans do of course on some level consciously choose how they will represent their idea of self to the world – by way of physical appearance and outward personality. Often this representation is genuine, while other times it is a facade. As we go through life, it is at turns fixed or changing, and some aspects are circumstantial while others are consistent. It is our conscious response to the interplay between endotype, ectotype, and exotype, and is called heretype.

As we establish our identities we adopt ideas about everything. Ideas about other people and our relationships with them. Ideas about our world, from our immediate surroundings out to the whole of planet Earth and the universe beyond, and how we fit within them. Our social consciousness, our politics, our religion, our morals, our ethics, our aesthetics, our membership within groups – all of these complexes of ideas collaboratively form our ideotype which we fix upon ourselves. We “identify” with them, which is to say that we affix them to our identities. Our ideas about ourselves and the world become as much a part of who we are as our physical bodies.

But what does any of this really mean? Is any of it substantial? At the very bottom of our identity is our physical body, which had it developed in a different place under different circumstances and had different interactions with different people, may have manifested as an entirely different person. It has already been established that at some point we choose who we are, or at least how we represent ourselves to the world. This ability to choose makes human being’s existential freedom unique amongst all other animals of the world – but only insofar as we are aware that we have this choice.

While we may say that so many variables “determine” our identity, the word determine connotes a lack of choice. Our sense of self is affected by others perceptions of us, but if we are of the right frame of mind we can reject those perceptions where they conflict with our sense of self rather than internalizing them. We have that freedom. We have the least control over our physical bodies, but even they are subject to change through choice of diet, choice of activities, and other factors. But even if our identity was grounded in our physical bodies, it certainly does not mean that we have to subscribe to any of the ideas attached to them by others. This means that whatever “meanings” are applied to the various sets of physical characteristics, such as body types or “race” can be accepted or rejected in how we conceive our sense of self.

Although sociocultural constructs such as race, ethnicity, nationality, family role, gender, religious affiliation, and political orientation are layered upon us to form our identity, we can at any time reject any part or the whole of that identity and reinvent ourselves as we so choose. The crisis of establishing one’s identity is called angst, and where there is a disparity between sense of self and how others perceive us (or how we think they perceive us) there is anxiety. The two terms share a common etymology, and are quite clearly intertwined.

Most people probably are not even aware of the freedom they have. For example, a woman gives birth to a child. Social norms and biological imperatives dictate that she should play the role of “mother” to this child. Built within these norms and imperatives are positive feedback mechanisms which only further incline the woman to sustain that role, to identify herself as a “mother”. She may affix this identity to herself so firmly it supersedes all other aspects of self, and were she suddenly to be wrenched from this identity it would put who she conceived herself to be into crisis.

But the truth is that this woman, social norms and biological imperatives aside, has the freedom to abandon that child, to renounce all responsibility and reject the role of mother. Now depending upon how she goes about this the consequences – emotionally, socially, or legally – may be more or less severe, but they do not affect her ability to free herself from her identity as a mother. So that it’s clear, I am not advocating the idea of women abandoning their children, but merely making the point that such freedom exists.

That to many people would be unthinkable. They may say that even if she put the child up for adoption she is still technically – by the fact of their biological connection – the child’s “mother”. But the role of mother, just like all other non-physical aspects of identity, is a construct, and as such it can be deconstructed and renounced. Imagine a hypothetical close-knit society where the children of any set of parents are treated as the children of every adult in the society. Perhaps the words “mother” or “father” do not even exist in this society. The child merely exists in a familial relationship with the entire community.

Certainly there will be different people who fall into different roles with respect to this child, but none of them may be exactly what one would classify as a “mother”. A woman who breastfeeds the child may not be biologically related to him at all, but merely another woman who was lactating because of her own recent pregnancy. This woman may then do nothing else for the child as far as nuturing or protecting him or even interacting with him. Perhaps her only job is to feed him. Is she his mother? Or does that title fall to the man who coddles, protects, and loves the child? It should be clear that the role of “mother” is not as substantial as we normally take it to be.

The person that I conceive of as my own mother is merely the ectotype for her that I have created through our interactions, but is not at all the whole of her identity. To think so is to place limitations on who she is and who she can be, and it is not my place to do so. Only she can choose to what extent she is my mother, and what that means for our relationship and how that contributes to her personal identity.

What the example of the mother is meant to demonstrate is that a person can deconstruct their identity – starting at any layer – and “rebuild” themselves as they choose. From renouncing one’s race or ethnicity to rejecting cultural norms or mores to abandoning one’s entire self-image. This can be beneficial in many ways. For example, if a person has been continuously rejected in their quest for romance for any number of reasons, they may internalize these rejections as meaning that something is wrong or undesirable about themselves. But the truth is that each rejection is an individual event, and not necessarily reflective of any global truth about the person.

Perhaps one person invalidated them for having what they saw as an unattractive body type.  Another because they weren’t of the same “race”. Yet another rejected them for their choice of fashion. We may be invalidated and rejected at anytime and for any reason, and if we were to internalize every single one of them, we would only be in constant crisis. But we don’t internalize them all. Which ones we reject and which ones we accept are all a matter of choice. This means that we also have the choice to reject them all, to not allow any of those external judgments to determine our sense of self.

The point of this essay is not to say that a person should necessarily abandon their entire identity, but to demonstrate that they have the freedom to do so. The only true identity is a divine nothingness – a rich soil in which we can plant any kind of seeds, a blank canvas we can paint however we wish and paint over again and again, a clay that we can mold and shape into any form, a void which can be filled with anything the free-thinker desires. As children we understand this freedom – if only subconsciously – more than we do by the time we become adults – since at that time we are likely to have become set within a certain identity.

But this freedom never leaves us, as evidenced by people who hold to certain ideas for the majority of their lives, only to come to some revelation and change their minds completely. This kind of revelation and change can come in youth, in middle age, in old age, or even on a person’s deathbed. But it is only a “revelation” after we’ve forgotten that we can change who we are, what we think, how we feel, and what we believe at any given time.

So in conclusion, if you find that your identity places you in some kind of crisis – either within yourself or with your environment, remember that you have the freedom to change, or the freedom to determine whether or not that crisis has to exist at all.

Physical bodies, ecosystems, ideas, personalities, cultures, communities, nations, worlds – and verily, the entire universe – are in flux. Should it be so strange that an individual identity is inconstant, deconstructable, and adaptable? Certainly not.

Thomas Aquinas (c. 1225 – 1274 CE), was a famous Catholic theologian, philosopher and prolific writer. Above all else he is remembered for his “quinquae viae”, or five proofs for the existence of God, expressed in his Summa Theologica. Ideological battles over the existence or non-existence of God have probably been waged since the dawn of human cognition, and continue into the present day. Yet the word “proof” implies irrefutable evidence, which raises the question of how these arguments can even continue. In fact, as I shall attempt to demonstrate in this essay, Aquinas’ proofs do not prove anything, or at best “prove nothing” – a statement I will qualify later. If I am to have any hope of refuting the five proofs, I must first demonstrate a full understanding of the arguments behind them. So first I will provide an analysis of the five proofs, citing the text of Summa Theologica, and then explain the critical fallacy of each one.

The first proof is an argument first presented by the Greek philosopher Aristotle (384 – 322 CE), that of the “Prime Mover”. The basic idea here is that all things that are in motion were put into motion by something else, which can be called a mover. Since there cannot be infinite movers, there had to be – at the start of this chain of motion – a mover who started it all. According to Aquinas’ extrapolation of the concept:

The problem with this “proof”, and one we shall find common to all five, is that it is built upon a number of presuppositions. First and foremost is the assumption that at any time in the universe there was no motion at all. A “first mover”, by definition, would have had to perpetrate a “first motion”, meaning that prior to that event there was an absence of motion. On what infallible pretext are we to base this notion? What evidence is there that the universe was ever anything other than “in motion”, in some respect? There is no such evidence.

As we understand the universe today – and Aquinas can be forgiven his lack of foresight into the discoveries of science five hundred years after his death – all energy and matter are conserved. That is to say they cannot be “destroyed”, or made to not exist. If all energy is conserved, then that means that all energy in the universe today has always existed. Existence then, in these terms, has no necessary prerequisites. Furthermore, motion requires energy; in fact, energy alone is often the “mover” for a thing. If energy has always existed, then its action upon any given thing to make it move was always a possibility. Energy itself is always in motion, being transferred from one thing to the next, through one medium or another. Even when talking about the “potential energy” of a non-moving object, that energy exists in the form of interplay between the constituent parts of that object, going as far “down” or perhaps even deeper than the atom.

Not only is there no evidence for the idea that there was ever no motion, but literally everything in the universe that we can conceive of suggests the opposite to be true – that motion itself is a fundamental property of the universe. Should anyone suggest that this “pre-motion” state of the universe lies outside the realm of human cognition, they should also acknowledge that there really is no point in a human trying to logically “prove” anything that operates outside of that realm. That would altogether negate Aquinas’ first proof. That spurious reasoning aside, the only way that the first mover argument holds is if we assume that all energy and matter at one time did not exist, and was introduced into an empty universe. If “God” was the agent that brought matter and energy into this void, this nothingness, then God itself would also have to be nothing. This is what I was referring to when I suggested that Aquinas’ arguments were proof for nothing. At least it can be said at this point that he has not successfully proven anything.

The second proof for the existence of God has to do with causality. For every event there was an earlier event that caused it, and since there cannot be an infinite series of causes, there had to have been a “first cause”. As Aquinas put it himself:

Since the second proof is more or less a rephrasing of the first, the arguments used above could be reapplied. However, there is an important point to be made about causality that provides a further argument against the second proof. Hardly any event is “caused”, in the pure sense of “A” acting to produce “B”. Most, if not all, events in the universe are the result of numerous contributing factors, some having greater effect than others. The chain of “causality” is actually a web of correlation. The innumerable phenomena of our universe, from the quantum to the celestial, all play off of one another as energy flows throughout the system.

Even where a given “effect” can be traced to a specific “cause”, it is impossible for any one thing to operate on any other single thing without also influencing the things around it. Conversely, no one thing can affect another without contributions from those things around it. If we simplify this argument, and concede that there are discrete “effects”, but that indeed that must have had multiple causes, we would have a causal branching that would spread out to infinity. This would mean that there were an infinite number of first causes, not just one. If the “first cause” or “God is an infinity, then it must include all of us, making us all constituents of God, and therefore meaning that the first effects were of God causing itself. Yet according to Aquinas:

I am not suggesting this to be the case, but merely offering this point to counter the idea that there need even be any identifiable chain of causality, such as to require a “first cause”.

There is another assumption central to both the first and second proofs just begging to be mentioned, but it must wait. To give the reader a hint, I will say that it has to do with a certain quintessentially “western” way of perceiving the world. Moving on to the third proof, we find the same argument again, only presented in slightly different terms. Aquinas states:

From here Aquinas goes on to restate the second proof, and how this “necessary existence” – which he considers to be God – brought everything else out of non-existence. It goes without saying by now that the same arguments against first mover and first cause could be applied here. The additional fallacy in the third proof is that nowhere in the universe do we witness existence emerging from non -existence or nothingness. Such would defy the law of conservation. What we do see in nature is that the “creation” of any new thing results technically from the “destruction” of other things. Everything is composed of energy and/or matter, both of which by the law of conservation must have always existed. Therefore, all “creation” and “destruction” can only be manifestations of change, and do not merely exist or fail to exist. Furthermore, if God, as that necessary existence, has always existed, it is reasonable to assume that other things could have always existed as well – indeed as all energy and matter must have. The argument of “first existence” thus becomes unnecessary.

The fourth proof discusses the properties of things and the degrees to which they exhibit those properties. Aquinas says that the way we measure any property of a thing is by determining how close it comes to that which exhibits that property to the highest degree:

The fundamental flaw in Aquinas’ reasoning is that he speaks of absolutes, as if for all properties there must be a maximum. Worse, he assumes that for every property there is something which exhibits it to that maximum, and by that something we judge all others. Using Aquinas’ own example, we can show how this is simply not true. Heat is a form of energy, and so for something to be the “hottest”, it would have to contain all energy in the universe. This is because if any other energy existed outside of this hottest thing, then adding that energy to it would make it hotter still, meaning that it was not the hottest possible. If any one thing contained all the energy in the universe, then nothing else would exist, and there could be no quantitative comparison for the property of “hotness”.

When we move to properties such as “goodness” or “truth”, those which simply cannot be quantified, how can we even attempt to measure them? And if we cannot measure them, how can we determine what is “more good” or “more noble”? The answer is that we cannot. As I mentioned earlier, the problem here is speaking of things in absolute terms. Qualities such as goodness are relative – infinitely so – as those values change with respect to a thing’s surroundings. When Aquinas says “goodness”, one can only assume he means in the ethical sense, as in not doing harm to others directly or indirectly – by proxy or by inaction in the face of harmful acts being performed. As any Christian (like Aquinas) would be forced to admit (or be accused of hypocrisy), doing harm to another can be justified. For the party being harmed, such actions are “evil” or at least not good, while for the harming party, or a third party for which it acts as agent, its actions may be good. This relativism of good and evil further shows that there is no universal way of measuring goodness. If there is no way of measuring it, then there can be no identifying a “greatest” good, either. Thus does the fourth proof fall apart at the seams.

The fifth proof advocates intelligent design. According to Aquinas, things that lack intelligence are incapable of acting towards any specific goal. Therefore, where their actions are towards a certain end, it must be that they are being driven by an intelligent being. Using the same logic as proofs one, two, and three, the suggestion here is that at the beginning of all things set into action towards any given end, there must have been an intelligent designer. In Aquinas’ own words:

The first problem with this argument, again, lies with an incorrect assumption. There are many things in the universe which act towards an end that neither have intelligence nor are compelled to act by any outside intelligence. It is generally agreed that most animals are not “intelligent” – at least not as we apply the term to humans, or as we could only presume to apply to God. Yet they most certainly act towards certain ends – the most prevalent of which are procreation and survival. Unless we assume that God is acting upon every animal directly, their actions do not presume nor require any intelligence whatsoever. The inevitable counter-argument must be that God would not have to act upon the animals directly if he intelligently designed them to perform all of the actions they do. The problem with that explanation is that it again implies a certain chain of causality – the same one central to the first three proofs.

Here, finally, I will present another criticism of that idea. It is a truly western assumption that all things in time and space operate only in a linear fashion. All things always must either come “before” or “after”, maintaining discrete positions in time or the “chain” of causality. As I insinuated through the more accurate term “web of correlation”, the interplay of phenomena throughout the universe is anything but linear. We see cyclical action and reaction in everything from the microcosmic to the macrocosmic, and so it does not even take a “leap of faith” to assume that causality operates in the same way.

There is yet another problem with the fifth proof, one that is in fact contained within all of the proofs. At the end of each, Aquinas makes a statement which assumes that everyone believes in or acknowledges the existence of God.

“…and this everyone understands to be God.”

If everyone understood it, if everyone believed or acknowledged it, then the labor of “proving” the existence of god would be entirely pointless. Clearly, by sheer fact, and in that Aquinas felt the need to offer his proofs, not everyone understands or believes. Even if we were to ignore all of the other glaring flaws in Aquinas’ proofs, and accept their most basic claims, there are many possible conclusions that could’ve been drawn. If there was a “first mover”, why must we assume that it was something as great and intelligent as a god, as opposed to some random instigator? If there was a “first cause”, are we to assume that that first action, and the immeasurably complicated network of effects stemming from it, was all part of some brilliant plan?

This certainly calls into question the concept of free will, which most god-fearing people must believe in if they are to reconcile the existence of a benevolent god with humanity’s rejection of tyranny. And while I feel no need to argue against the possible role of an intelligent designer in our universe, there is huge leap between the suggestion that unintelligent things do not act towards an end, and the necessity that their actions are driven by an outside intelligence. The other, perhaps more likely possibility, is that some things simply do not act towards an end, or with a purpose, at all.

In conclusion, I must reiterate what I said at the beginning of this essay. If Aquinas’ quinquae viae were indeed “proofs” for the existence of God, then I would not be able to argue against them at all. If even one point that I have made against them has even an iota of validity, then that alone automatically disqualifies them as proofs. Aquinas’ attempts were noble (how noble? It is impossible to know!), but in the end, his arguments do not hold. Indeed, the five proofs are exceeded in their greatness as a philosophical examination of reality only by their monumental failure in what they purport to accomplish.

An Analysis of Neil Gaiman’s American Gods

“American Gods”, a novel by Neil Gaiman, depicts a metaphorical war between the gods of the old world and the gods of the new. It begins as the main character, Shadow, is set to be paroled after three years in prison for assault. Tragically, only two days before his release, he learns that his wife and was killed in a car accident. Out of prison, and with no real home to return to, he is approached by a man calling himself “Mr. Wednesday”, who offers him a job as his assistant. Although apprehensive at first, Shadow takes the job, not realizing that he is setting in motion a complicated series of events which will determine the fate of the American consciousness.

For Gaiman, the gods themselves are born of human thought; they evolve through changes in telling and retelling of their stories. Some gods are the “offspring” of other gods, as opposed to evolutions, because a story retold and altered as it travels may remain the same where it originated, resulting in two separate but related forms of the same god – parents and children.

This concept of gods as creations – even extensions – of human consciousness is not a new one, and is in fact well established within the psychology of religion. For every person or society, the god or gods in some way embody their culture and the different aspects of their environment as they perceive it. In this way, the existence of gods is cyclical and somewhat paradoxical, sharing a self-same identity with those who believe. Even an almighty creator god itself stems from the minds of those it was said to have created.