This story has my vote for the best headline of the year so far. The hypertext headline was Solace of Quantum.
"The fact that our world does not behave perfectly symmetrically is due to deviations from symmetry at the microscopic level," the committee said.
I'm sorry, but one thing that annoys me about scientists is that so often mysticism (of which Zen is often considered a form) is scoffed at, only for scientists to rip off all of its best ideas later. The fundamental asymmetry of creation is an old Zen concept. Also, is it coincidence that it was a Japanese-heavy team responsible for developing this idea? Cultural influence in science?
Robin Davies writes:
I’m sorry, but one thing that annoys me about mystics is that so often they slag off science for being all dull and mechanistic and reductionist until they happen upon some scientific discovery obtained by hard graft and experiment that vaguely coincides with a woolly notion that some mystic dreamed up in an incense-fueled daydream and suddenly cry “Vindication!””Is it coincidence that it was a Japanese-heavy team responsible for developing this idea?”Yup.”Cultural influence in science?”Nah. Us scientists hate culture. It’s too imprecise and non-quantifiable. We’re drawing up plans to eliminate it so we can build our perfect world of cogs and circuits and equations…
I’m not sure I cried vindication. I’m wary of that. If I had cried vindication, I wouldn’t have asked the last question “Cultural influence in science?”, which surely suggests this is one interpretation of many.I’m really not convinced it is coincidence, but then, I don’t really believe in coincidence, depending on what the word means. (It’s like that word ‘accident’ that is supposed to explain things, but only really expresses a value judgement.)I’ve written about this before, of course. I suppose it’s C.P. Snow’s two cultures thing. On both sides there seems to be this attraction/repulsion thing going on. Both sides want something the other side has. Not sure I’m expressing well. I had it just now. Feel free to deny that there are a significant number of scientists who talk as if no idea is valid unless it is expressed in scientific terms. I can only speak from personal observation. I don’t take notes every time I hear some patronising comment on the radio, or read a similar patronising view in scientific discourse in a magazine, et cetera. I’m not really sure what to do about the whole reconciliation of the two cultures thing. It seems desirable. But I certainly don’t want it at the price of everything only ever deemed ‘vindicated’ through science. “Aha, you said you agreed on that idea! That proves that science is superior, because you need us to vindicate you!”Okay, then, I’d rather remain unvindicated.
I think one problem is that science is a collection of specialist subjects that nonetheless have an extraordinary influence in the lives of just about everyone on the planet, whoever they might be. Power plus arrogance (the two often go together) are bound to provoke frustrated responses. I’m sure that I am ignorant from a scientific point of view, but I don’t like having my entire life experience labelled as invalid because I’m not immersed in any particular scientific field of specialisation, and because I am neither able nor willing to express those experiences in the language of scientific discourse. And this is what actually happens. This is also part of my experience.
Robin Davies writes:
“I’m really not convinced it is coincidence, but then, I don’t really believe in coincidence, depending on what the word means. (It’s like that word ‘accident’ that is supposed to explain things, but only really expresses a value judgement.)”Aren’t coincidence and accidents explained by the laws of statistics? In a world full of events the laws of statistics will inevitably result in some random collisions which will have a bad effect (unlucky accident), good effect (lucky accident) or the appearance of connection (coincidence). Of course you may then ask why the laws of statistics are the way they are and I would then have to say I dunno they’re just there. It’s one of those “why” questions like “why is there something rather than nothing” that we can’t answer at the moment, though science may be edging closer to some aspects of it.But presumably you mean that what appear to be coincidences actually reflect some underlying pattern. May I ask why?(Actually, wouldn’t it be strange if there really were no coincidences? I mean if nobody happened to bump into an old friend in a unexpected place or thought about Aunt Agnes just before she phoned…)
It does seem to be a matter of perception. To say something is a coincidence is sometimes a way of saying there’s no meaning in what appears to be a pattern. But why dismiss some patterns and not others? All sorts of reasons, you might say. I suppose we’d have to take it case by case.However, what I really meant is that, if you believe in cause and effect (I don’t necessarily) then how can anything be ‘just coincidence’? Cause and effect means that phenonema are related; to say that something is just a coincidence suggests that they are unrelated. Of course, the problem is that all things are related in some way or another, so then it’s a question of which particular relations, perhaps, you find to be most significant.
Robin Davies writes:
But how does this “relationship” affect the sort of interaction that we normally call coincidence? Can you give an example? Surely some relationships are so tenuous as to be negligible or irrelevant and others will be so mixed up with other influences and relationships that the results will cancel out. Isn’t it a bit like homeopaths who claim that even the memory of one molecule of medicine in a homeopathic remedy can be effective while ignoring all the other actual molecules or “memories of molecules” that the medicine has also been exposed to?I’m very wary of this sort of thing because the laws of chance can produce some remarkable illusions of significance just as evolution by natural selection can produce the illusion of design. Derren Brown demonstrated this on one of his shows where he tossed a coin and got ten heads in a row. This was achieved (he says!) by filming him tossing a coin for nine hours and then just showing the bit where he got a run of ten heads. Anyone seeing that bit in isolation would assume some trickery or a rigged coin. Likewise, poor Roy Sullivan probably thought God was out to get him:http://www.jewishworldreview.com/0204/glad_u_asked020504.asp
Well, I’m not sure that I’m really clever enough to give definitive answers here. In fact, I’m sure I’m not. Perhaps I should start by saying that, to me, a sense of wonder is valuable in itself. This is something Dickens talks about to great effect in Hard Times, or rather, he talks about the detrimental effects of a lack of wonder. And a sense of wonder, for me at least, exists very much apart from explanations and definitions. A sense of wonder is not exactly the asking of questions, but it has a great deal to do with questions – especially silly questions like, “What are we doing here?” and so on. It certainly has more to do with questions than with answers. ‘What if’ is one part of a sense of wonder, I think. It’s something that opens up possibilities. It’s expansive. I have to say that, all too often – this is a personal observation – I find scientific discourse to be the opposite of this. It doesn’t open things up. It closes them down. It’s not expansive; it’s constricting. (I’ve noticed a way of speaking that many scientists have: “You think such-and-such, we used to think such-and-such, but we now know, because science tells us, that…” This does seem to be the kind of phraseology that many scientists use, and I do find it grating, almost suffocating. We don’t actually ‘now know’ anything. We’ve discovered another way of looking at things that may or may not be beneficial.) This is not always the case, and certainly – I think – doesn’t have to be the case, any more than religion has to be self-righteous, but it seems to happen, and the coincidence thing is a case in point. To use words such as ‘just a coincidence’ is dismissive. It assumes there’s nothing worth wondering about.With regard to the coincidence thing, it seems that, one way or another, all things must be related to all other things. Now, this might render the whole idea of meaningful coincidence redundant. I can see that. It’s eleven minutes past eleven twice a day and there are plenty of things happening in the world at that time that you can choose to relate to that particular time of happening according to taste. At the same time, the very fact of relationship remains as a constant background. To say things are ‘just coincidence’ seems to suggest that two or more events happened in complete isolation from everything else. I don’t have a conclusion here. My mind changes according to mood and circumstance. I’m not sure I can come up with a good example at the moment, unfortunately, and I think I need a good example to illustrate what I mean. If one comes to me I’ll let you know.The first thing that comes to mind – I hope you don’t mind me being vague, because it’s slightly personal – is one time that I was in a hotel room, in a particularly distressing situation. I was alone, and there were particular uncertainties that were weighing upon me very heavily. I went out onto the balcony and saw an eagle, or some very similar bird of prey. I’d never seen anything quite like it before, and I was deeply moved. A moment later the telephone rang and I was, in a very indirect way, given information that relieved some of the weight that was upon me. Now, this is not a strategically chosen example, it’s simply the first thing that comes to mind, and I’m aware as I’m writing it exactly how weak it sounds. I’m not offering it as proof of anything because it doesn’t prove anything. What’s the connection between eagles and telephones? No idea. But as far as my feelings were concerned, there was a connection. I suppose you could say that I was the connection. And you could trace all sorts of connections because the causes of the telephone call existed in the same environment as the causes of the eagle, and were related by environmental factors in one way or another. I’m sure to many people this will just seem like a big so what. The thing is, it’s not – for me – even meant to prove anything. I’m simply trying to describe a particular kind of perception and experience.There are problems with this, and it’s good to try and maintain a balance. There’s no point in clinging to the idea that one particular connection has more meaning than another. I remember reading in something or other by Aleister Crowley – whom I imagine was a terrible fraud in many ways, but I don’t think we need to be completely either/or about it – that the condition of thinking that everything in the universe is a personal message for you closely resembles a state of paranoid schizophrenia, or something, but, on the other hand, is also perfectly true, and I kind of go along with that. I don’t think these are messages from someone or something in particular, and I don’t even have some kind of doctrine about this written down – I’m basically making it up as I go along, and I don’t care if it changes – but I suppose I tend to treat life like one of two things, either a dream, or fiction. If it’s a dream, then it can be read like a dream, for ‘psychological’ meanings. Isn’t it a bit like homeopaths who claim that even the memory of one molecule of medicine in a homeopathic remedy can be effective while ignoring all the other actual molecules or “memories of molecules” that the medicine has also been exposed to?It could be a bit like homeopathy, but I’d have to think about that and probably know more about homeopathy, too. I don’t have much of an opinion on homeopathy. I’ve read an account of a French scientist who came up with evidence in support of homeopathy and was – according to the account – treated very shabbily by the scientific establishment as a result. In these cases it seems like it’s one person’s word against another’s, and, unless you were there, it’s very hard to make a judgement.About a year or two ago, I made the acquaintace of a homeopathic practitioner who claimed he had had very good results treating AIDs in Africa through the use of homeopathy. Please don’t ask me either to defend or condemn. That is what I was told, and I have no reason to call the man a liar, nor any reason to champion him. What he went on to tell me was that he had found it impossible to get the British medical establishment to even look at his research. I spoke with him a little about the French scientist, of whom he knew, and I said I’d read a little about a theory of how homeopathy might work to do with vibrational memory of molecules or something or other that I can’t now remember. He said that he was wary of that explanation, and simply did not know how or why it worked, but as far as he was concerned, it did. Let’s try the ‘what if’ here. What if he was telling the truth about his success treating AIDs? Should we dismiss such a success as ‘mere coincidence’?
Robin Davies writes:
I agree with your first point that a sense of wonder is important in itself. Most scientists (including the great demon Dawkins) agree with that and say so, though none of their critics seem to believe them. I don’t think anyone would deny that coincidences can be astonishing or even life-changing. I think the word “just” is simply used to avoid the possibility of making an unjustified causal connection without good evidence.As for the issue of homeopathic treatments for very serious illnesses I think a rigorously scientific attitude is absolutely essential. This article is worth a read.http://www.badscience.net/2007/11/a-kind-of-magic/
I’ve met Dr. Ben a few times. I even have an amusing anecdote about my relation to one of his friends, whom I’ve never met, but I don’t know if I should repeat it here. Anyway, hello to Dr. Ben (if you’re out there), and I’ll have a good read of that later (funny, by coincidence I was thinking of mentioning Dr. Ben on this very thread).
Okay, I’ve read it.First of all, you know, of course, that none of what I’ve said above (apart from the stuff explicitly about homeopathy) is about homeopathy. As far as I recall, I’ve only had homeopathic treatment once, and that was for a hangover, and it didn’t work.I don’t actually care about homeopathy. I don’t care much about ghosts or telepathy or any of those things that people of a scientific background sometimes seem to assume that I am trying to defend. Do you want me to take the counter view to that article? I could, although I’m not sure there would be any point in doing so. What I object to, in science, I have made pretty clear a number of times. Science is a kind of self-appointed authority that acts as if it is not self-appointed, and for some reason most people seem to accept this. Nothing is allowed to be entirely factual or credible without the say so of the scientific establishment, and anything may be criticised except science. I’ve never yet met a scientist who allowed that the fundaments of science might be mistaken, and most scientists with whom I have had conversations on the matter have displayed a particular desire to dismiss immediately anything from a list of arbitrary ‘unscientific’ things that you might care to mention.
Robin Davies writes:
“What I object to, in science, I have made pretty clear a number of times. Science is a kind of self-appointed authority that acts as if it is not self-appointed, and for some reason most people seem to accept this. Nothing is allowed to be entirely factual or credible without the say so of the scientific establishment” The authority of science is based on the proven results of the scientific method (experiment, prediction, falsification, control tests) which is designed to find the truth about the world and eliminate (as far as is possible) wishful thinking, bias, fraud and all the things which we know can lead to false conclusions. It proves its results as it goes along. What are the alternatives to the scientific method? How do you know with any degree of certainty at all that they provide truth? Sure they “might” be right, but so “might” anything.”I’ve never yet met a scientist who allowed that the fundaments of science might be mistaken”Why should they? Nothing is 100% certain but that’s no reason to doubt things which are 99.99999% certain according to the evidence. I might have a deep faith that gravity doesn’t apply just outside my bedroom window but I’d be foolish to act on that belief.”anything may be criticised except science”Science is mostly ignored in the media which is full of arts graduates who regard science with distaste or boredom. When they can be bothered to get to grips with it, they sometimes criticise it and there are some choice examples from the likes of Bernard Levin and Fay Weldon in Richard Dawkins’ book Unweaving The Rainbow.”and most scientists with whom I have had conversations on the matter have displayed a particular desire to dismiss immediately anything from a list of arbitrary ‘unscientific’ things that you might care to mention.” Such as?
Why should they?Yes, why ever question yourself?I personally do not like the world that science has created. Ignore science or not, it still seems that, if some scientist in South Korea invents a way for us all to have two heads and six arms and luminous ears, within about six months you won’t even be able to get a job interview unless you have two heads, six arms and luminous ears.I might write more about this later, or not. I know that everything I’m saying is boring and pointless, because it won’t make a difference. I suppose if I were clever and detached enough I could think of some way to make some serene personal synthesis in my own life, which might, if I were very blessed, even be beneficial to others. Occasionally I try, but unfortunately – or perhaps fortunately – my priority is to write a type of fiction that will entertain 0.000000354% of the world’s population, and not to write an influential thesis on how to shift the cultural direction of science for the better. Have I made the right choice?
Robin Davies writes:
I suppose the reason I keep banging on about this issue here is that you don’t seem to be one of those people who have the usual blanket ignorance or prejudice against science. You read about it and, given your apparent belief in the effect of human activity on global warming, you respect the validity of the scientific method to some degree. So I’m puzzled and irritated when you come out with the old familiar attacks on science as if it had no more validity than things like religion or superstition. I suppose I should just grit my teeth and avoid posting on the subject in future.
Well, my thoughts on the matter are so cyclical they even bore me, but, I’ve been thinking more since posting my last entry, and I’ll attempt to put some of those thoughts down here.If I’m honest my basic general response about science is that I don’t like it. This has been true as far back as I remember thinking about science, to, say, a little before my teenaged years. It seems like a personality trait. I was not especially without aptitude when it came to science at school, but I was averse, and dropped all science subjects as soon as I could. I sometimes regret that now, because I feel I suffer from a lack of grounding in basics, however much trivial detail I have now amassed, which is probably not that much, really. I have questioned why I have this particular bias. On the one hand, it appears, as I’ve said, like a basic disposition. Maybe it’s even genetic, I don’t know. It does lead me to feel, however, that different brains or characters are really constructed with very different biases, and this is part of mine. That’s something I have to work with. I do question that bias. I suppose the answer I tend to come up with is that my bias means I don’t see the whole truth, but that I see ‘a truth’, or at least something valid. To give an example, people very often point to the benefits of science, and point out that I enjoy those benefits, too – aeroplanes, compact disc players (I haven’t got an iPod), and so on. Although I can intellectually agree that there are benefits of one kind or another, it’s honestly very difficult for me to feel that. And I have tried. But it never seems to sink in somehow. So, I would admit that as my blindspot. I could also say that, wherever we are with regards to technology, in one sense it doesn’t really matter. If I were living in the sixteenth century, I doubt I’d be hankering for aeroplanes and CDs. On the other hand, while we have increased our technological power, we haven’t developed socially as a species to any great degree. I suppose we can point to one thing or another, such as the abolition of slavery, as showing progress, but the basic model of human existence seems to remain the same – greedy and aggressive competition. When all development is limited to the technological, or when it is technology-heavy, all it tends to do is further empower that greed and aggression.Is this getting boring yet?I often feel that science – if I may refer to something so abstract as if it is a single entity – is deliberately or unconsciously limiting all but technological development by dismissing other fields of endeavor as invalid. It is quite possible that the human race is just hopeless, but if there is hope I think that it has to come from a spiritual direction, or that, anyway, it will not come if all spiritual development is somehow cordoned ‘off’. I don’t think a political solution is enough. We’ve seen plenty of revolutions fail. I don’t think psychiatry is enough, since its secularism means ‘that’ ultimately it lacks commitment (which is why psychiatrists have to remain ‘professional’ and not care about their patients, besides which, only the rich can afford psychiatric ‘mental health’). The problem with a ‘spiritual’ solution is that, the moment you try to package or formulate it, it seems to go horribly wrong. And at this point, I’m not sure what the way forward is. But, there are some people who I think are probably doing some valuable work within the non-peer-reviewed wilderness of spiritual development. Probably the best way we can support them is to not treat them like gurus, but to treat them like the flawed human beings they are, just as scientists, despite clinging to ‘objectivity’, are also flawed human beings.There might have been other things ‘I’ was going to say, but I’ll leave it at that for now.
You should enjoy this:http://sleeping-butterfly.blogspot.com/2008/10/useful-parasites-by-quentin-s-crisp.htmlI attempt to bolster my argument through scientific analogy. My entire parasitic existence has been validated (tentatively) by science.
Robin Davies writes:
Good article! I was saddened to hear about the circumstances of Disch’s death too. He was rated very highly by my favourite author, M. John Harrison, and that prompted me to read some of his short stories and novels back in the 70s. It does seem grotesque that the likes of Damien Hirst and Tracey Emin can make vast fortunes from their frequently banal “concepts” while many talented writers can barely make ends meet.I wish I could suggest a solution. Moving to France seems a tad drastic…
Thank you.I’m working on a solution at the moment. Well, it’s very tentative, so I won’t say anything. I might even change my mind about it, but I took some tentative steps this evening. It may involve moving, but not to France.