Posts Tagged ‘Philosophy’

Is the Principle of Least Resistance the Zeroth Law of Being?

June 22, 2025

The underlying compulsion

Is thrift, parsimony, a sort of minimalism, part of the fabric of the universe?

Occam’s razor (known also as the principle of parsimony) is the principle that when presented with alternative explanations for the same phenomenon, the explanation that requires the fewest assumptions should be selected. While Occam’s razor is about how to think and describe phenomena, I am suggesting that parsimony of action, the path of least resistance is deeply embedded in causality and in all of existence.

Why is there something rather than nothing? Why does the universe exist? The answer is all around us. Because it is easier to be than not to be. Because at some level, in some dimension, in some domain of action and for some determining parameter, there is a greater resistance or opposition to not being than to being. Why does an apple fall from a tree? Because there is, in the prevailing circumstances, more resistance to it not falling than in falling. At one level this seems – and is – trivial. It is self-evident. It is what our common-sense tells us. It is what our reason tells us. And it is true.

It also tells us something else. If we are to investigate the root causes of any event, any happening, we must investigate the path by which it happened and what was the resistance or cost that was minimised. I am, in fact, suggesting that causality requires that the path of sequential actions is – in some domain and in some dimension – a thrifty path.

A plant grows in my garden. It buds in the spring and by winter it is dead. It has no progeny to appear next year. Why, in this vast universe, did it appear only to vanish, without having any noticeable impact on any other creature, god, or atheist? Some might say it was chance, others that it was the silent hand of a larger purpose. But I suspect the answer is simpler but more fundamental. The plant grew because it was “easier”, by some definition for the universe, that it grow than that it not grow. If it had any other option, then that must have been, by some measure, more expensive, more difficult.

In our search for final explanations – why the stars shine, why matter clumps, why life breathes – we often overlook a red thread running through them all. Wherever we look, things tend to happen by the easiest possible route available to them. Rivers meander following easier paths and they always flow downhill, not uphill. Heat flows from warm to cold because flowing the other way needs effort and work (refrigerator). When complexity happens it must be that in some measure, in some domain, staying simple faces more resistance than becoming complex. How else would physics become chemistry and form atoms and molecules? Why else would chemistry become biochemistry with long complex molecules? Something must have been easier for biology and life to be created than to not come into being. The bottom line is that if it was easier for us not to be, then we would not be here. Even quantum particles, we are told, “explore” every possible path but interfere in such a way that the most probable path is the one of least “action”. This underlying parsimony – this preference for least resistance – might well deserve to be raised to a status older than any law of thermodynamics or relativity. It might be our first clue as to how “being” itself unfurls. But is this parsimony really a universal doctrine or just a mirage of our imperfect perception? And if so, how far does it reach?

We can only elucidate with examples. And, of course, our examples are limited to just that slice of the universe that we can imperfectly perceive with all our limitations. Water finds the lowest point (where lowest means closest to the dominant gravitational object in the vicinity). Light bends when it moves from air into glass or water, following the path that takes the least time. Time itself flows because it is easier that it does than it does not. A cat, given the choice between a patch of bare floor and a soft cushion, unfailingly selects the softer path. It may seem far-fetched, but it could be that the behaviour of the cat and the ray of light are not just related, they are constrained to be what they are. Both are obeying the same hidden directive to do what costs the least effort, to follow a path of actions presenting the least resistance; where the minimisation of effort could be time, or energy, or discomfort, or hunger, or something else.

In physics, this underlying compulsion has been proposed from time to time. The Principle of Least Action, in physics, states that a system’s trajectory between two points in spacetime is the one that minimizes a quantity called the “action”. Action, in this context, is a quantity that combines energy, momentum, distance, and time. Essentially, the universe tends towards the path of least resistance and least change. Newton hinted at it; Lagrange and Hamilton built it into the bones of mechanics. Feynman has a lecture on it. The principle suggests that nature tends to favor paths that are somehow “efficient” or require minimal effort, given the constraints of the system. A falling apple, a planet orbiting the Sun, a thrown stone: each follows the path which, when summed over time, minimizes an abstract quantity called “action”. In a sense, nature does not just roll downhill; it picks its way to roll “most economically”, even if the actual route curves and loops under competing forces. Why should such a principle apply? Perhaps the universe has no effort to waste – however it may define “effort” – and perhaps it is required to be thrifty.

The path to life can be no exception

Generally the path of least resistance fits with our sense of what is reasonable (heat flow, fluid flow, electric current, …) but one glaring example is counter-intuitive. The chain from simple atoms to molecules to complex molecules to living cells to consciousness seems to be one of increasing complexity and increasing difficulty of being. One might think that while water and light behave so obligingly, living things defy the common-sensical notion that simple is cheap and complex is expensive. Does a rainforest  – with its exuberant tangle of vines, insects, poisons, and parasites  – look like a low-cost arrangement? Isn’t life an extremely expensive way just to define and find a path to death and decay?

Living systems, after all, locally do reduce entropy, they do build up order. A cell constructs a complicated molecule, seemingly climbing uphill against the universal tendency for things to spread out and decay. But it does so at the expense of free energy in its environment. The total “cost”, when you add up the cell plus its surroundings, still moves towards a cheaper arrangement overall and is manifested as a more uniform distribution of energy, more heat deposited at its lowest temperature possible. Life is the achieving of local order paid for by a cost reckoned as global dissipation. Fine, but one might still question as to why atoms should clump into molecules and molecules into a cell. Could it ever be “cheaper” than leaving them separate and loose? Shouldn’t complex order be a more costly state than simple disorder? In a purely static sense, yes. But real molecules collide, bounce, and react. Some combinations, under certain conditions, lock together because once formed they are stable, meaning it costs “more” to break them apart than to keep them together. Add some external driver – say a source of energy, or a catalyst mineral surface, or a ray of sunlight – and what might have stayed separate instead finds an easier path to forming chains, membranes, and eventually a primitive cell. Over time, any accessible path that is easier than another will inevitably be traversed.

Chemistry drifts into biochemistry not by defying ease, but by riding the easiest local, available pathway. It is compulsion rather than choice. Action is triggered by the availability of the pathway and that is always local. Evolution then – by trial and error – makes the rough first arrangement into a working organism. Not a perfectly efficient or excellent organism in some cosmic sense, but always that which is good enough and the easiest achievable in that existential niche, at that time. One must not expect “least resistance” to provide a  perfection which is not being sought. A panda’s thumb is famously clumsy – but given the panda’s available ancestral parts, it was easier to improvise a thumb out of a wrist bone than to grow an entirely new digit. Nature cuts corners when it is cheaper than starting over.

Perhaps the reason why the spark of life and the twitch of consciousness evade explanation is that we have not yet found – if at all we are cognitively capable of finding – the effort that is being minimised and in which domain it exists. We don’t know what currency the universe uses and how this effort is measured. Perhaps this is a clue as to how we should do science or philosophy at the very edges of knowledge. Look for what the surroundings would see as parsimony, look for the path that was followed and what was minimised. Look for the questions to which the subject being investigated is the answer. To understand what life is, or time or space, or any of the great mysteries we need to look for the questions which they are the answers to.

Quantum Strangeness: The Many Paths at Once

Even where physics seems most counter-intuitive, the pattern peeks through. In quantum mechanics, Richard Feynman’s path integral picture shows a particle “trying out” every possible trajectory. In the end, the most likely path is not a single shortest route but the one where constructive interference reinforces paths close to the classical least-action line. It also seems to me – and I am no quantum physicist – that a particle may similarly tunnel through a barrier, apparently ignoring the classical impossibility. Yet this too follows from the same probability wave. The path of “least resistance” here is not some forbidden motion but an amplitude that does not drop entirely to zero. What is classically impossible becomes possible at a cost which is a low but finite probability. Quantum theory does not invalidate or deny the principle. It generalizes it to allow for multiple pathways, weighting each by its cost in whatever language of probability amplitudes that the universe deals with.

It is tempting to try and stretch the principle to explain everything, including why there is something rather than nothing. Some cosmologists claim the universe arose from “quantum nothingness”, with positive energy in matter perfectly balanced by negative energy in gravity. On paper, the sum is zero and therefore, so it is claimed, no law was broken by conjuring a universe from an empty hat. But this is cheating. The arithmetic works only within an existing framework. After all quantum fields, spacetime, and conservation laws are all “something”. To define negative gravitational energy, you need a gravitational field and a geometry on which to write your equations. Subtracting something from itself leaves a defined absence, not true nothingness.

In considering true nothingness – the ultimate, absolute void (uav) – we must begin by asserting that removing something from itself cannot create this void. Subtracting a thing from itself creates an absence of that thing alone. Subtracting everything from itself may work but our finite minds can never encompass everything. In any case the least resistance principle means that from a void the mathematical trick of creating something here and a negative something there and claiming that zero has not been violated is false (as some have suggested with positive energy and negative gravity energy). That is very close to chicanery. To create something from nothing demands a path of least resistance be available compared to continuing as nothing. To conjure something from nothing needs not only a path to the something, but also a path to the not-something. Thrift must apply to the summation of these paths otherwise the net initial zero would prevail and continue.

The absolute void, the utter absence of anything, no space, no time, no law, is incomprehensible. From here we cannot observe any path, let alone one of lower resistance, to existence. Perhaps the principle of least resistance reaches even into the absolute zero of the non-being of everything. But that is beyond human cognition to grasp.

Bottom up not top down

Does nature always find the easiest, global path? Perhaps no, if excellence is being sought. But yes, if good enough is good enough. And thrift demands that nature go no further than good enough. Perfect fits come about by elimination of the bad fits not by a search for excellence. Local constraints can trap a system in a “good enough” state. Diamonds are a textbook example. They are not the lowest-energy form of carbon at the Earth’s surface, graphite is. Graphite has a higher entropy than diamond. But turning diamond into graphite needs an improbable, expensive chain of atomic rearrangements. So diamonds persist for eons because staying diamond is the path of least immediate, local resistance. But diamonds will have found a pathway to graphite before the death of the universe. The universe – and humans – act locally. What is global follows as a consequence of the aggregation, the integral, of the local good enough paths.

Similarly, evolution does not look for, and does not find, the perfect creature but only the one that survives well enough. A bird might have a crooked beak or inefficient wings, but if the cost of evolving a perfect version is too high or requires impossible mutations, the imperfect design holds. A local stability and a local expense to disturb that stability removes a more distant economy from sight.

Thus, the principle is best to be stated humbly. Nature slides to the lowest, stable, accessible valley in the landscape it can actually access, not necessarily the deepest valley available.

A Zeroth Law or just a cognitive mirage

What I have tried to articulate here is an intuition. I intuit that nature, when presented with alternatives is required to be thrifty, to not waste what it cannot spare. This applies for whatever the universe takes to be the appropriate currency – whether energy, time, entropy, or information. In every domain where humans have been able to peek behind the curtain, the same shadow of a bias shimmers. The possible happens, the costliest is avoided, and the impossible stays impossible because the resistance is infinite. In fact the shadow even looks back at us if we pretend to observe from outside and try and lift the curtain of why the universe is. It must apply to every creation story. Because it was cheaper to create the universe than to continue with nothingness.

It may not qualify as a law. It is not a single equation but a principle of principles. It does not guarantee simplicity or beauty or excellence. Nature is perfectly happy with messy compromises provided they are good enough and the process the cheapest available. It cannot take us meaningfully to where human cognition cannot go, but within the realm of what we perceive as being, it might well be the ground from which more specific laws sprout. Newtons Laws of motion, Einstein’s relativity, Maxwell’s equations and even the Schrödinger equation, I postulate, are all expressions of the universe being parsimonious.

We can, at least, try to define it: Any natural process in our universe proceeds along an accessible path that, given its constraints, offers the least resistance compared to other possible paths that are accessible.

Is it a law governing existence? Maybe. Just as the little plant in my garden sprouted because the circumstances made it the easiest, quietest, cheapest path for the peculiar combination of seeds, soil, sunlight, and moisture that came together by chance. And in that small answer, perhaps, lies a hint for all the rest. That chance was without apparent cause. But, that particular chance occurred because it was easier for the universe – not for me or the plant – that it did so than that it did not. But it it is one of those things human cognition can never know.


What Can We Truly Know? A Practical Guide to Truth for Finite Minds

June 1, 2025

Truth feels like it should be simple: something is true if it matches reality.

But as soon as we ask how we know something is true – or whether we can know – we realize the ground shifts under our feet. We have finite minds, limited senses, and we’re trying to understand an endless universe from the inside. We do not know what senses we do not have. The only thing we can be certain of is that whatever we observe of the surrounding universe is partial and incomplete. And we do not know what we cannot know. How do we define truth from such a small vantage point?

This is an attempt to build a definition of truth that respects those limits while still giving us something reliable to live by.


Our senses have evolved on earth to detect conditions on earth and so help our journey of survival and reproduction. Our minds evolved to help us survive, not to decode the cosmos. We’re built to spot patterns, avoid danger, find food, and navigate social groups – not to unravel quantum mechanics or grasp the shape of space-time. Yet we have been so successful at survival that we have had time to consider other things than survival.  We have evolved language and thinking and have earned the freedom to demonstrate our creativity. We have built tools, systems, and cities and vehicles. We have developed the sciences and philosophy and the arts such that we are by far the most successful species on the planet.  Human cognition too has grown and far beyond our original limits. But even with all that, our understanding is still partial, still incomplete. Always will be. Our cognitive limits are ever-present. For example, we still cannot comprehend why gravity must be or why existence is or time flows or life and consciousness arise. There are things – perhaps – that we cannot know.

That means truth, for us, has to be redefined. Not as an unreachable absolute, but as something we can approach and refine, even if we never fully arrive. Consider all truth in the universe to be a giant landscape. We only see a tiny part of that. From that which we can see our truths are what we call knowledge.  That which is knowledge for us is always true (provisionally). A lie is disqualified from being knowledge. We perceive knowledge to come in three forms:

1. What We Know

These are the things we’ve tested, confirmed, and rely on – like gravity pulling objects down or the fact that ice melts above 0°C. These are our working truths. They could be revised, but they serve us well for now.

2. What We Could Know

These are truths we haven’t reached yet, but potentially could. Maybe we need better tools or smarter questions. The cure for a disease. The cause of consciousness. A deeper law of physics. These are knowable truths – just not yet known.

3. What We Can Never Know

Some truths lie forever beyond human perception or understanding. Perhaps they’re hidden by our cognitive limitations or the boundlessness of space and time. Or maybe our brains are simply incapable of grasping them – like trying to teach calculus to a dog. These are the unknowable truths – still real, just what we cannot know.

If that’s our playing field, then a more grounded way to define truth is:

Truth is what fits with what we know so far, helps us predict what happens next, and holds up when tested.

This isn’t some eternal, absolute cosmic Truth-with-a-capital-T. It’s the kind of truth we can use, refine, and build on. It works in science. It works in everyday life. And it keeps us honest. We are truth-seekers, not truth-holders. No matter how clever we get, we’ll never know everything. That’s not failure – that’s the condition of being human with a finite brain and limited senses. But we can keep trying and keep improving our aim. We can ask better questions, challenge assumptions, discard broken ideas, and refine our hypotheses and our theories. The scientific method does exactly this. So does philosophy. So do our creative arts though truths are very strictly subjective. So does any kind of honest thinking. Not to own the truth, but to move closer to it.

Truth Is a direction, not a destination. It is the seeking for the truth that matters especially since any absolute truth is beyond out cognition. We can move toward it, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but we never quite arrive. And that’s okay. What matters isn’t reaching a final answer. What matters is that we seek.

We live in a universe full of mystery. The best we can do is stay curious, stay humble, and keep searching.

We are seekers after truth not its owners.


Knowledge, Truth, and Reality: Attributes of Consciousness in an Anti-Realist Framework

April 22, 2025

This follows on from my earlier post about knowledge.

This essay argues that knowledge, truth, and reality are attributes of consciousness, requiring a purposeful, self-aware mind to transform raw data into meaning. Countering realist and Cartesian assumptions, this post adopts an anti-realist framework which emphasizes consciousness’s role, urging epistemic humility and responsible engagement with constructed realities.


Introduction

Consider our famous tree which falls in a forest. The trivial question is whether there is a sound when there is no one to hear? But let us ask instead what is experienced by an intelligent observer who just happens to be around. This question opens up the nature of knowledge, truth, and reality, revealing their dependence on a conscious mind. I argue that these are attributes of consciousness, created when a self-aware, purposeful mind defines and interprets phenomena. Existence—the brute fact of all things being—may stand alone, like air pressure vibrations in a forest, but reality, truth, and knowledge require an observer to define specific things, such as a tree’s fall. Realists claim the universe exists and is real intrinsically, conflating existence with reality, but this begs, “Known by who?”—exposing the need for a conscious knower. Knowledge arises only when consciousness contextualizes defined phenomena, truth appears as consciousness judges their certainty, and reality takes shape as meaning is constructed, all within the mind. The grey amorphous splodge of everything which is in the universe may encompass all existence, but it defines no things; only observers carve out realities. This anti-realist perspective rejects absolute truth and philosophical objectivity, emphasizing diverse perspectives—humans understanding the sun scientifically, crows sensing it instinctively—each defining distinct realities, limited by the unknowable. Through definitions, epistemic limits, and implications, this essay explores how consciousness shapes understanding. Knowledge abides only in a consciousness which has a need to define what is known. The tree-falling analogy anchors this, showing existence to be diffuse and undefined until a mind makes it real, urging us to see knowledge, truth, and reality as products of consciousness.

Definitions

What does it mean to know, to judge true, or to call something real? These terms hinge on a critical and crucial distinction between existence – the universe’s raw, undefined splodge – and the reality, knowledge, and truth, which can only be carved out of existence by a conscious mind.

  • Existence is the brute fact of all things being—particles, waves, space, vibrations, stars, trees, winds, crows—swirling amorphously as the universe’s grey background, unnamed, undefined and needing no observer.
  • Data are discrete slices of existence, like air pressure vibrations in a forest, raw and shapeless until a mind touches them.
  • Information emerges when senses and interpreting brains select and shape data into patterns, such as sound waves rippling through an ear.
  • Knowledge is born when a conscious mind defines these patterns, naming them with certainty: “A tree fell.”
  • Cognition—perception, memory, reasoning—builds the bridge from data to information.
  • Consciousness is cognition with self-awareness, the spark that defines things and weaves knowledge.
  • Purpose is the drive, whether deliberate study or survival’s instinct, pushing a mind to define and learn.
  • Truth is a judgment, a mind declaring a defined thing certain, like “a tree fell is true,” meaningless without someone to say it.
  • Objectivity is minds agreeing, as in science’s shared truths, not a reality beyond them—else, “Intrinsic to what?”
  • Reality is meaning carved from existence, a defined thing like a forest event, not a universal fact.

This anti-realist view clarifies how knowledge, truth, and reality can only spring from a mind which contemplates and tries to define the bits and pieces of existence’s diffuse mass. The brute fact of all that is, just is and does not need to name or identify its own bits and pieces or make judgements about them. Realists conflate existence with reality, but pressure vibrations in the air do not sing until a conscious observer judges them to be a sensation called sound.

The Limits of Knowing: Known, Knowable, and Unknowable

Picture the universe as a vast, amorphous, undefined sea of existence. What can we know from it? Knowledge splits into three realms: the known, the knowable, and the unknowable. The known holds what we’ve defined—gravity’s pull, a tree’s fall—crafted by observation. The knowable waits to be defined, like distant stars or hidden creatures, reachable with better tools or sharper minds. The unknowable is existence undefined—quantum flickers, the universe’s deep nature—forever beyond our grasp. This divide shows knowledge and truth need a mind to carve specific things from existence’s splodge. Realists proclaim a universe real in itself, but “Known by who?, Real to who?” Defining the sun reveals this: humans name it a star, blazing with fusion; crows sense a warm light, guiding flight. Each reality is partial, missing existence’s undefined depths, like quantum secrets. The unknowable allows no mind to be able to capture all, shattering realism’s dream of one true reality. Knowledge lives in what we define, shaped by consciousness, not floating in existence. A tree’s vibrations are just there until an observer calls them a sound or a fall, crafting a reality. This anti-realist lens, seeing reality as it is defined, not as a given, leads us to explore how consciousness transforms bits of existence into knowledge.

From Data to Knowledge: The Conscious Process

Consider again our tree, crashing in the forest. What does an intelligent observer experience? Vibrations ripple through the air—existence’s brute fact, undefined and silent. These are data, raw scraps of the universe’s meaningless, lonely splodge. The eye perceives nothing but an ear catches them, cognition spins them into information—sound waves with rhythm and pitch. Then consciousness, purposeful and self-aware, defines them: “A cracking sound”, “A tree fell.” This is knowledge, born when a mind carves a specific thing from existence. Realists insist the fall is real in itself, but that cannot be. “What is a tree?, What is air? Known by who?” Vibrations aren’t a tree’s fall until defined—else, “Intrinsic to what?” A human observer might name it a forest event, mapping its cause; a crow, hearing danger, defines it as a threat. Each reality springs from defining selected bits and pieces of existence, both enlightened and limited by senses and constrained by the unknowable, like the molecular dance triggered by the tree which fell. What the human selects of the data available and what the crow selects are different. Knowledge isn’t in the universe’s raw being but in a mind’s act of definition. Animals or AI might process information, but only a conscious mind, driven by purpose—curiosity or survival—defines knowledge as humans do. No book or computer ever contained knowledge. A crow’s instinct doesn’t name the fall; AI’s outputs don’t reflect knowledge. Only consciousness, shaping existence into defined things, creates meaning, setting the stage for judgments of truth value.

Knowledge and Truth: A Mind-Dependent Relationship

What makes a belief knowledge, and what makes it true? Observe that belief – no matter how enhanced (justified, true, etc.) – can never achieve a truth value of 1. That requires it no longer be a belief. Knowledge is a belief held with a subjective confidence, defined and justified, like “The sun rises” seen daily. Truth is the mind’s judgment that a defined thing aligns with reality—but reality itself is carved from existence by consciousness. To call “a tree fell” true, an observer hears vibrations (existence), defines them as sound, and judges the event’s certainty. Realists claim truth lives in the universe, saying “the sun is real” or “gravity is true.” But “sun” or “gravity” are defined things, needing a mind—“Intrinsic to what?” Consciousness can deal with partial truths and almost certainties. Claiming “existence is true” is a tautology; existence just is, undefined. Humans define the sun as a star, fusing atoms; crows, as a light, guiding paths. Both truths are real, yet partial, blind to existence’s undefined depths, like quantum waves. “Known by who?” Truth applies to things that a mind names, not existence’s splodge. Truth falters, too: geocentrism once reigned, toppled by heliocentrism’s evidence. This shows consciousness, purposeful and fluid, redefining truths as knowledge shifts. Anti-realism sees truth as subjective, sometimes shared through science’s agreed definitions, but never absolute. Existence’s undefined vastness limits all truths—no mind defines it all. Knowledge and truth, born from defining bits of existence, are consciousness’s craft, driven by purpose, as we’ll see next.

Purpose in the Generation of Knowledge

Why do we know? Purpose lights the spark. Whether chasing curiosity or surviving danger, purpose drives a mind to define existence’s grey splodge. Picture our tree’s fall: an observer, keen to understand, hears vibrations and defines them as “a tree fell,” forging knowledge and truth. Without purpose, existence stays undefined. Realists claim gravity’s pull is knowledge itself, but “Known by who?” Gravity is another  indistinguishable part of existence until a mind defines it as a force or as the curvature of spacetime. Saying “existence is real” is empty—existence doesn’t define things. Purpose shapes what we carve: humans define a forest to study its life; crows, a fall as danger to flee. Each knowledge, each reality, is a slice of existence, limited by the undefinable, like unseen molecules. A book holds data, but only a purposeful reader defines its words as knowledge. Crows sense light, but without human-like purpose, they don’t define it as a star. AI crunches numbers, lacking the self-aware drive to name things. Realist intrinsic reality crumbles—“Intrinsic to what?”—as existence needs a mind to become real. Purpose makes knowledge, truth, and reality conscious acts, defining the universe’s raw being, a theme echoed in how perspectives shape reality.

Perspectives on Reality: The Role of Perception

Is reality one, or many? It depends on the mind defining it. The sun burns in existence’s splodge, undefined. Humans, through science, give it a boundary, define it as a star, fusing hydrogen; crows, through instinct, see a light, guiding their flight. Each carves a reality—knowledge and truth—from existence, yet each misses the undefinable, like quantum flickers. Realists insist the sun is real in itself, but “Intrinsic to what?” The sun isn’t a “star” without a mind to first carve it out of existence and name it—“Known by who?” The sound of our tree’s fall is just air pressure vibrations until defined: by humans as a forest event, by crows as danger. These realities, though valid, are partial, shaped by perception’s lens and existence’s hidden depths. The universe holds the splodge of existence but defines no things; minds do that. Even science’s objectivity is minds agreeing on defined truths, not a truth beyond them. But a subjective untruth even if shared 8 billion times remains a subjective untruth. Realist claims of a real universe blur existence with reality, ignoring that things need defining. No perspective holds all—humans, crows, or others—because the undefinable bits of existence will always escape us. Some existence is unknowable. Reality is consciousness’s craft, a mosaic of defined things, not a universal slab. This anti-realist view, seeing reality as what we define, faces challenges we’ll tackle next.

Counterarguments: Where Does Knowledge Reside?

Could knowledge live outside a mind—in the universe, nature, books, or AI? Realists say yes, claiming gravity’s law is knowledge, real in itself. But gravity is existence’s hum, undefined until a mind calls it a force or spacetime—“Known by who?” Saying “existence is real” is a tautology, blurring brute fact with defined reality—“Intrinsic to what?” Descartes’ Cogito, ergo sum stumbles here, its loop (I exist, so I exist) assuming a self, like realism’s assumed reality, defining nothing. Trees grow, crows fly by light, but their “knowledge” is instinct, not defined belief. Crows sense the sun but don’t name it a star, lacking human purpose. Books store words, yet only a reader defines their meaning. AI processes data, programmed but not purposeful, outputting results, not knowledge. These claims mistake existence or information for knowledge, ignoring the mind’s role in defining things. Science’s truths, though shared, are minds defining existence, not existence defining itself. Our tree’s vibrations are existence’s pulse, undefined until an observer names them a sound or a fall. Realists conflate existence’s being with reality’s meaning, but only consciousness, purposefully carving things from the universe’s splodge, creates knowledge, truth, and reality, as we’ll reflect on next.

Implications and Reflections

What happens if knowledge, truth, and reality are consciousness’s creations? We must tread humbly. Truths shift—geocentrism gave way to heliocentrism—as minds redefine the bits and pieces of existence. Undefined existence, the unknowable, looms beyond, like quantum shadows, reminding us no truth is final. Realists’ intrinsic reality—“Intrinsic to what?”—ignores this, conflating existence’s splodge with defined things. Humans define ecosystems, crows dangers, each reality a fragment, urging care in the truths we craft. Descartes’ Cogito’s tautology, looping on existence, fades beside this view of reality as defined, not given. Anti-realism sparks curiosity, urging us to define the knowable while bowing to the undefinable. Science’s shared truths are precious, yet human, not universal. For non-specialists, this reveals knowledge as our act of naming existence—trees, stars, laws—not a cosmic gift. Philosophically, it dances with idealism and constructivism, spurning realism’s blend of existence and reality. Existence may hum unheard, but without a mind to define it, it is silent. This calls us to question, redefine, and own the realities we shape, as we’ll now conclude.

Conclusion

Our tree falls, vibrations pulsing in existence’s grey splodge. Is it real? Only if a mind defines it. Knowledge, truth, and reality are consciousness’s gifts, carved from the universe’s raw being. An observer names vibrations a forest event, crafting reality; crows sense danger, defining another. Realists call the universe real, blending existence with meaning—“Known by who?” Existence just is; things, however, need to be first imagined and then defined by a mind. Humans weave scientific truths, crows instinctual ones, each partial, constrained by undefinable existence. Purpose fuels this, setting conscious minds apart. Truths evolve—fallible, human—rejecting absolute reality. Saying “existence is real” or leaning on Descartes’ Cogito’s loop dodges the truth: only defined things are real or true. The universe holds existence, not things, until we name them. This anti-realist view demands the humility imposed by the unknowable—our truths are ours—and imposes responsibility, as defined realities shape our world. We can study and explore what we can define, and question what we cannot. Consciousness is our tool to extract meaning and comprehension from the grey cosmic background of existence and to assess the quality – truth, reality – of the knowledge we have created.


The Great Mysteries: Known, Knowable, and Unknowable Foundations of Philosophy

April 16, 2025

The Great Mysteries: Known, Knowable, and Unknowable Foundations of Philosophy

Humanity’s pursuit of understanding is shaped by enduring questions – the Great Mysteries of existence, time, space, causality, life, consciousness, matter, energy, fields, infinity, purpose, nothingness, and free will. These enigmas, debated from ancient myths to modern laboratories, persist because of the inescapable limits of our cognition and perception. Our brains, with their finite 86 billion neurons, grapple with a universe of unfathomable complexity. Our senses – sight, hearing, touch – perceive only a sliver of reality, blind to ultraviolet light, infrasound, or phenomena beyond our evolutionary design. We cannot know what senses we lack, what dimensions or forces remain invisible to our biology. The universe, spanning an observable 93 billion light-years and 13.8 billion years, appears boundless, hiding truths beyond our reach. Together, these constraints – finite brain, limited senses, unknown missing senses, and an apparently boundless universe – render the unknowable a fundamental fact, not a mere obstacle but a cornerstone of philosophical inquiry.

Knowing itself is subjective, an attribute of consciousness, not a separate mystery. To know – the sky is blue, 2+2=4 – requires a conscious mind to perceive, interpret, and understand. How we know we know is contentious, as reflection on knowledge (am I certain?) loops back to consciousness’s mystery, fraught with doubt and debate. This ties knowing to the unknowable: if consciousness limits what and how we know, some truths remain beyond us. Philosophy’s task is to acknowledge this, setting initial and boundary conditions – assumptions – for endeavors like science or ethics. The unknowable is the philosophy of philosophy, preventing us from chasing mirages or clutching at straws. The mysteries intertwine – existence needs time’s flow, space grounds physical being, causality falters at its first cause, consciousness shapes knowing – luring us with connections that reveal little. We classify knowledge as known (grasped), knowable (graspable), and unknowable (ungraspable), rooted in consciousness’s limits. Ignoring this, philosophers and physicists pursue futile absolutes, misled by the mysteries’ web. This essay explores these enigmas, their links, and the necessity of grounding philosophy in the unknowable.

I. The Tripartite Classification of Knowledge

Knowledge, an expression of consciousness, divides into known, knowable, and unknowable, a framework that reveals the Great Mysteries’ nature. The known includes verified truths – facts like gravity’s pull or DNA’s structure – established through observation and reason. These are humanity’s achievements, from Euclid’s axioms to quantum theory. The knowable encompasses questions within potential reach, given new tools or paradigms. The origin of life or dark energy’s nature may yield to inquiry, though they challenge us now. The unknowable marks where our finite nature – biological, sensory, existential – sets impassable limits.

The unknowable stems from our constraints. Our brains struggle with infinite regress or absolute absence, bound by their finite capacity. Our senses capture visible light, not gamma rays; audible sound, not cosmic vibrations. We lack senses for extra dimensions or unseen forces, ignorant of what we miss. The universe, vast and expanding, hides realms beyond our cosmic horizon or before the Big Bang’s earliest moments (~10^-43 seconds). This reality – finite cognition, limited perception, unknown sensory gaps, boundless cosmos – makes it inevitable that some truths are inaccessible to us. We are embedded in time, space, and existence, unable to view them externally. Philosophy’s task is to recognize these limits, setting assumptions that ground endeavors. Ignoring the unknowable risks mirages – false promises of answers where none exist – leaving us clutching at straws instead of building knowledge.

II. The Great Mysteries: A Catalog of the Unknowable

The Great Mysteries resist resolution, their unknowability shaping the assumptions we must make. Below, I outline each, situating them in the tripartite framework, then explore their interconnected web, which lures yet confounds us.

Existence: Why Is There Something Rather Than Nothing?

Existence’s origin, from Leibniz to Heidegger, remains a foundational enigma. The known includes observable reality – stars, particles, laws – but why anything exists is unclear. Reason tells us that existence must be because it is compelled to be so, but what those compulsions might be defies our comprehension. There must have been some prior condition which made it “easier” for there to be existence than not. The knowable might include quantum fluctuations sparking the Big Bang, yet these assume causality and time. The unknowable is the ultimate “why,” demanding a perspective outside existence, impossible for us. Metaphysicians chasing a final cause risk mirages, assuming an answer lies within reach, when philosophy must set existence as an unprovable starting point.

Time: What Is Its True Nature?

Time governs not only life, but the existence of anything. Yet its essence eludes us. We observe some of its effects – clocks, seasons – and the knowable includes relativity’s spacetime or quantum time’s emergence. But is time linear, cyclic, or illusory? Its subjective “flow” defies capture. To know time, we’d need to transcend it, beyond temporal beings. Ancient eternal gods and block-time models falter, pursuing clarity where philosophy must assume time’s presence, not its essence. The unidirectional arrow of time just is. Brute fact which neither allows nor permits any further penetration.

Space: What Is Its Fundamental Reality?

Space, reality’s stage, seems familiar but confounds. We know its measures – distances, volumes – and the knowable includes curved spacetime or extra dimensions. But what space is – substance, relation, emergent – remains unknowable. Why three dimensions, enabling physical existence (stars, bodies), not two or four? We cannot exit space to see its nature, and Planck-scale probes (~10^-35 meters) elude us. Cosmologies from Aristotle to multiverses assume space’s knowability, risking straw-clutching when philosophy must posit space as a given.

Causality: Does Every Effect Have a Cause?

Causality drives science, yet its scope is unproven. We know cause-effect patterns – stones fall, reactions occur – and the knowable might clarify quantum indeterminacy. But is causality universal or constructed? The first cause – what sparked existence – remains sidestepped, with science starting a little after the Big Bang and philosophy offering untestable gods or regresses. To know causality’s reach, we’d need to observe all events, which is impossible. Thinkers like Hume assume its solvability, ignoring that philosophy must treat causality as an assumption, not a truth.

Life: What Sparks Its Emergence?

Life’s mechanisms – DNA, evolution – are known, and abiogenesis may be knowable via synthetic biology. We search for where the spark of life may have first struck but we don’t know what the spark consists of. Why matter becomes “alive,” or life’s purpose, is unknowable. And as long as we don’t know, those who wish to can speculate about souls. Animists saw spirits, biologists study chemistry, yet both chase a threshold beyond perception. Assuming life’s knowability risks mirages; philosophy grounds biology by positing life as an empirical phenomenon, not explaining its essence.

Consciousness: Why Do We Experience?

Consciousness, where knowing resides, is our core mystery. We know neural correlates; the knowable includes mapping them. But why processes yield experience – the hard problem – is unknowable, as consciousness cannot access others’ qualia or exit itself. How we know we know – certainty, doubt – is contentious, from Plato’s beliefs to Gettier’s challenges, tying knowing’s subjectivity to consciousness’s limits. Seeking universal theories risks mirages; philosophy assumes consciousness as given.

Matter, Energy, Fields: What Are They Fundamentally?

Matter, energy, and fields are known via models—atoms, quanta, waves. Every model uses initial and boundary conditions which, themselves, can not be addressed. The knowable includes quantum gravity. But their essence—what they are—may be unknowable. What is the stuff of the fundamental particles. Are fields real or fictions? Atomists to string theorists chase answers, but Planck-scale realities defy us. Assuming a final ontology risks mirages; philosophy sets these as frameworks, not truths.

Infinity: Can We Grasp the Boundless?

Infinity, the uncountable, defies intuition. It is a placeholder for the incomprehensible. We know mathematical infinities (Cantor’s sets) and use them; the knowable might clarify physical infinity (space’s extent). But infinity’s reality or role is unknowable—our finite minds falter at boundlessness, paradoxes (Zeno’s) persist. Mathematicians seeking proofs assume too much; philosophy posits infinity as a tool, not a fact.

Purpose: Does Existence Have Meaning?

Purpose shapes ethics and religion, yet is unproven. We know human meanings (values); the knowable might include evolutionary drives. But cosmic purpose – existence’s “for” – is unknowable, needing intent we cannot access. Existentialists and theologians project meaning, risking straws; philosophy assumes purpose as human, not universal. What compelled the Big Bang? or the existence of the universe? Was that some deeper Law of Nature? A Law of the Super-Nature?

Nothingness: What Is Absolute Absence?

Nothingness probes “nothing.” We know quantum vacuums fluctuate; the knowable might explore pre-Big Bang states. But true nothingness – absence of all – is unknowable, as we exist in “something.” To have something the framework of existence must be present and if then something is removed do we get to nothingness or are we left with the space of existence? With numbers we cannot derive zero except by subtracting one from one. But without something how do we even conceptualise nothing? Can nothingness only be defined by first having something? Parmenides and physicists assume answers, but philosophy must posit somethingness as our starting point.

Free Will: Are We Truly Free?

Free will grounds morality, yet is unclear. We know brain processes; the knowable includes mapping agency. But freedom versus determinism is unknowable – we cannot isolate uncaused acts or escape causality. Augustine to Dennett chase clarity, but philosophy assumes will as a practical condition, not a truth.

Perplexing Connections: A Web of Mirages

The mysteries intertwine, with knowing, as consciousness’s attribute, weaving through their links luring us toward insight yet leading nowhere. Existence and time are inseparable – being requires change which in turn needs time to flow. But what is the time and what does it flow through? Physical existence demands three-dimensional space – real things (quarks, trees) occupy it, unlike abstractions – yet why three dimensions, not two or four, baffles us. Causality binds these, an empirical fact – events follow causes – but the first cause, existence’s spark, is dodged, leaving a void.

  • Existence and Time: Existence implies dynamism; a timeless “something” feels unreal. Heraclitus tied being to flux, physics links time to entropy. But why existence exists loops to when it began, and time’s flow loops to existence’s cause. Our finite brains grasp sequences, not sources; senses see motion, not time’s essence; the boundless universe hides time’s start, if any. Philosophers like Kant (time as intuition) chase answers, but the link reveals only our limits, demanding we assume both as givens.
  • Space and Existence: Physical things require 3D space – a stone needs place, a star volume. Two dimensions lack depth for matter, four defy perception (a 4D “shadow” needs unimaginable light). Why 3D? Our embeddedness in space blocks an external view, senses miss other dimensions, and the cosmos may conceal alternatives. Descartes (space as extension) assumes knowability, but philosophy must posit 3D space as a condition, not explain it.
  • Causality’s Role: Causality stitches existence, time, space—events unfold in spacetime, caused by priors. Yet, the first cause – what began it? – is sidestepped. Science can only go back to a little after the Big Bang, philosophy offers gods or regresses, neither testable. Our observations halt at Planck scales, logic breaks at uncaused causes. Russell (“universe just is”) assumes closure, but causality’s origin remains an assumption, not a truth. Referring to a brute fact is the sure sign of having reached the unknowable.
  • Consciousness and Knowing: Knowing is consciousness’s act – perceiving, understanding, reflecting. How we know we know – certainty’s test – is debated, as consciousness doubts itself (Gettier, skeptics). This links all mysteries: existence’s why, time’s flow, space’s form depend on conscious knowing, subjective and limited, making their truths elusive.

These connections form a circular web – knowing needs consciousness, existence needs time, time needs space, space needs causality, causality needs existence – each leaning on others without a base we can reach. They tantalize, suggesting unity, but lead to mirages, as our finite minds cannot break the loop, our senses see only 3D, temporal projections, and the universe hides broader contexts. Ignoring this, thinkers pursue the web’s threads, clutching at straws when philosophy’s role is to set boundaries, not chase illusions.

III. The Futility of Overreaching

The Great Mysteries, interwoven, persist as unknowable, yet many refuse to see this. Philosophers debate existence or space’s nature, assuming logic captures them, blind to unprovable foundations. Neuroscientists claim consciousness will yield to scans, ignoring qualia’s gap. Physicists seek a Theory of Everything, presuming space, causality, matter have final forms, despite unreachable scales. The mysteries’ web fuels this folly—links like existence-time or causality-space suggest a solvable puzzle. But chasing these leads to mirages, as circularity traps us—time explains existence, space grounds causality, none stand alone.

This stems from assuming all is knowable. Science’s successes—vaccines, satellites—imply every question yields. Yet, the unknowable is philosophy’s guardrail. Without it, endeavors falter, like metaphysicians seeking existence’s cause or physicists probing causality’s origin, grasping at straws. Ancient skeptics like Pyrrho saw uncertainty’s value, grounding thought in limits, while modern thinkers often reject it, misled by the web’s false promise.

IV. Grounding Philosophy in the Unknowable

Acknowledging the unknowable is philosophy’s practical task, setting assumptions for science, ethics, art. It prevents chasing mirages, ensuring endeavors rest on firm ground:

  • Science: Assume space’s 3D frame, time’s flow, causality’s patterns, pursuing testable models (spacetime’s curve, life’s origin), not essences (space’s being, first causes).
  • Philosophy: Posit consciousness, free will as conditions for ethics, not truths to prove, avoiding loops to existence or causality.
  • Culture: Embrace mysteries in art, myth, as ancients did, using their web – time’s flow, space’s stage –  to inspire, not solve.

For example, DNA’s structure (known) and abiogenesis (knowable) advance biology, while life’s purpose is assumed, not chased. Space’s measures aid cosmology, its 3D necessity a starting point, not an answer.

V. Conclusion

The Great Mysteries – existence, time, space, causality, life, consciousness, matter, energy, fields, infinity, purpose, nothingness, free will – endure because our finite brains, limited senses, unknown missing senses, and boundless universe make the unknowable a fact. Their web – existence flowing with time, space enabling reality, causality faltering at its origin – lures but leads to mirages, circular and unresolvable. Ignoring this, philosophers and physicists chase straws, misled by false clarity. The unknowable is philosophy’s foundation, setting assumptions that ground endeavors. By embracing it, we avoid futile quests, building on the known and knowable while marveling at the mysteries’ depth, our place within their vast, unanswerable weave.


Related:

Knowledge is not finite and some of it is unknowable

https://www.forbes.com/sites/startswithabang/2016/01/17/physicists-must-accept-that-some-things-are-unknowable/#6d2c5834ae1a

https://ktwop.com/2018/08/21/when-the-waves-of-determinism-break-against-the-rocks-of-the-unknowable/

https://ktwop.com/2017/10/17/the-liar-paradox-can-be-resolved-by-the-unknowable/

Physics cannot deal with nothingness


The Skeptical Case Against Natural Law / 1

March 19, 2025

For many years I have struggled with finding the words to express my instinctive feelings against attempts to apply “universal” principles across all humans and which suppress human individuality. I have often tried  – usually without much success – to explain my dislike for concepts such as universal morality, Natural law, universal rights, unearned rights as entitlements and entitlements independent of behaviour. I am coming to the conclusion that my objections to, and dislike of, these concepts are essentially philosophical. Explanations of my objections need, I think, to be couched in philosophical terms.

I try to address these (again) in this series of essays.


Natural Law is often presented as a foundational principle governing human morality, law, and rights, claiming to be a universal standard of justice inherent in human nature. However, a closer examination reveals that Natural Law is not an empirical reality but a constructed ideological tool. It emerges only when different societies with distinct laws interact, and its purpose has historically been to justify the imposition of one society’s norms over another. The absence of empirical evidence for Natural Law, combined with its theological underpinnings and political motivations, renders it an unconvincing framework for understanding human morality and governance. Instead, morality is best understood as an emergent property of individual human values, varying across cultures, historical periods, and personal experiences. Here I try to explore the philosophical, historical, and empirical reasons why Natural Law fails as a legitimate concept and why morality must be recognized as subjective rather than universal.


The Absence of Empirical Evidence for Natural Law

If Natural Law were a genuine feature of human existence, we would expect to observe universal moral principles across all societies and cultures. However, anthropological and historical research reveals no such universality. While there are commonalities in human behavior – such as cooperation and conflict resolution – these vary significantly in their expression. For example, concepts of justice, property, and individual rights differ widely between societies. The idea that certain rights are inherent to all human beings is not supported by empirical observation but rather by ideological assertions.

Human history is filled with examples of societies that have organized themselves around vastly different moral and legal systems. From the caste-based hierarchy of ancient India to the communal property arrangements of indigenous tribes, moral codes are deeply context-dependent. Even within the same society, moral norms evolve over time, reflecting changes in economic conditions, technological advancements, and cultural shifts. This variability directly contradicts the claim that a singular, natural moral order governs human behavior.

The lack of empirical confirmation for Natural Law relegates it to the realm of metaphysical speculation. If Natural Law cannot be observed or tested, then it is indistinguishable from theological doctrine. It becomes a belief system rather than a demonstrable reality, making it no different from religious faith. This reliance on unprovable assertions undermines its credibility as a foundation for legal or moral theory.

Natural Law as a Tool of Domination

Natural Law does not emerge in isolated societies but only when different societies with conflicting rules interact. Historically, it has been invoked to justify the imposition of one society’s rules over another, often under the guise of a higher moral authority. Colonialism, religious expansion, and political domination have frequently relied on claims of Natural Law to legitimize conquest and control.

For instance, European colonial powers used the rhetoric of Natural Law to justify the subjugation of indigenous populations. They framed their legal and moral systems as “civilized” and based on universal principles, while dismissing native customs as inferior or unnatural. This ideological framework provided moral cover for coercion, exploitation, and cultural erasure. Of course religious institutions across the world have been quick to confer the halo of Natural Law on their own dogma. Religious institutions from have often used Natural Law arguments to enforce moral conformity, punishing deviations from dogmatic norms under the pretense of upholding their universal truths.

Natural Law’s historical role as an instrument of domination raises serious ethical concerns. If its primary function has been to serve the interests of those in power, then its legitimacy as a moral guide is highly suspect. Rather than being an impartial standard of justice, it appears to be a rhetorical device used to consolidate control over others.

The Fallacy of Universal Morality

The assumption that a universal morality exists contradicts the reality of human individuality. Every human being is genetically unique, behaves in distinct ways, and forms personal values based on their own experiences. Given this diversity, it is absurd to claim that a single moral code applies equally to all people. What is “good” for one person may be harmful or undesirable for another. What is “good” for me here and now is certain to be “bad” for some one of the other 8 billion people alive.

The idea of universal morality is, at best, an abstraction with no real-world grounding. At worst, it is an imbecilic construct used to justify coercion. The imposition of a supposedly universal moral order disregards the fact that morality is fundamentally a product of individual cognition. Each person’s moral framework emerges from their subjective values, which they use to navigate life’s complexities. The attempt to enforce a single moral standard on diverse populations is not only impractical but also a form of ideological tyranny.

Furthermore, moral codes are often shaped by historical circumstances rather than any intrinsic natural order. Concepts of justice, equality, and rights have changed dramatically over time, reflecting societal needs rather than adherence to some eternal truth. Slavery was once considered morally acceptable in many civilizations, and its eventual abolition was not the result of a discovery of Natural Law but of shifting economic and political forces. The same can be said for religious freedoms or freedom of expression and numerous other moral issues. This historical fluidity further undermines the idea that moral principles are fixed or inherent.

The Political Function of Universal Morality

If morality is not universal but instead emerges from subjective values, why does the myth of Natural Law persist? The answer lies in its political utility. The concept of a universal moral order provides a convenient justification for those in power to enforce their will on others. By claiming that certain moral rules are “self-evident” or “natural,” political and religious leaders can sidestep debate and impose their norms without question.

Universal morality is, in effect, a political construct. It serves as a tool for suppressing dissent and legitimizing authority. Governments, religious institutions, and international bodies all invoke the language of universal morality to assert control over populations. For example, international human rights laws claim to be based on fundamental moral principles, yet they often reflect the political interests of dominant nations. The selective enforcement of these laws—where powerful countries violate them with impunity while weaker nations face harsh penalties—reveals their true function as mechanisms of control rather than genuine moral imperatives.

By recognizing morality as inherently subjective, we expose the coercive nature of universal moral claims. A society that acknowledges the diversity of moral perspectives is better equipped to foster genuine dialogue and coexistence. Instead of imposing artificial moral absolutes, ethical and legal systems should be constructed with an understanding of human individuality and the necessity of negotiated social agreements.

Conclusion

Natural Law fails as a legitimate concept because it lacks empirical evidence, serves as a tool of domination, and falsely assumes a universal morality that does not exist. The historical and political record demonstrates that claims to Natural Law have been used primarily to justify coercion and control, rather than to uncover any genuine moral truth. Morality, rather than being an objective reality, emerges from individual values and experiences. Recognizing this subjectivity allows for a more honest and flexible approach to ethical and legal systems, one that respects human diversity rather than imposing ideological uniformity.

By rejecting Natural Law, we free ourselves from the illusion of universal morality and open the door to a more nuanced understanding of ethics—one that acknowledges the complexities of human existence rather than imposing rigid, arbitrary norms. The path to justice and social harmony lies not in fabricated moral absolutes but in the recognition of individual agency and the negotiated agreements that allow diverse societies to coexist.

Natural Law is, in fact, nothing more than a political invention for use as a tool for oppression.


Science ultimately needs magic to build upon

January 3, 2025

The purpose of the scientific method is to generate knowledge. “Science” describes the application of the method and the knowledge gained. The knowledge generated is always subjective and the process builds upon fundamental assumptions which make up the boundary conditions for the scientific method. These  assumptions can neither be explained or proved.


I find it useful to take knowledge as coming in 3 parts.

  1. known: This encompasses everything that we currently understand and can explain through observation, experimentation, and established theories. This is the realm of established scientific knowledge, historical facts, and everyday experiences.
  2. unknown but knowable: This is the domain of scientific inquiry. It includes phenomena that we don’t currently understand but that we believe can be investigated and explained through scientific methods. This is where scientific research operates, pushing the boundaries of our knowledge through observation, experimentation, and the development of new theories.
  3. unknown and unknowable: This is the realm that I associate with metaphysics, religion and theology. It encompasses questions about ultimate origins, the meaning of existence, the nature of consciousness, and other metaphysical questions that may not be amenable to scientific investigation.

Philosophy then plays the crucial role of exploring the boundaries between these domains, challenging the assumptions, and developing new ways of thinking about knowledge and reality.

I like this categorization of knowledge because

  • it provides a clear framework for distinguishing between different types of questions and approaches to understanding.
  • it acknowledges the limits of scientific inquiry and recognizes that there may be questions that science cannot answer, and
  • it allows for the coexistence of science, philosophy, religion, and other ways of knowing, each addressing different types of questions.

To claim any knowledge about the unknown or the unknowable leads inevitably to self-contradiction. Which is why the often used form “I don’t know what, but I know it isn’t that” is always self contradictory. It implies a constraint on the unknown, which is a contradiction in terms. If something is truly unknown, we surely cannot even say what it is not.

Given that the human brain is finite and that we cannot observe any bounds to our universe – in space or in time – it follows that there must be areas beyond the comprehension of human cognition. We invent labels to represent the “unknowable” (boundless, endless, infinite, timeless, supernatural, magic, countless, ….). These labels are attempts to conceptualize what is inherently beyond our conceptualization. They serve as placeholders for our lack of understanding. But it is the human condition that having confirmed that there are things we cannot know, we then proceed anyway to try and define what we cannot. We are pattern-seeking beings who strive to make sense of the world around us. Even when faced with the limits of our understanding, we try to create mental models, however inadequate they may be.

Human cognitive capability is limited not only by the brain’s physical size but also by the senses available to us. We know about some of the senses we lack (e.g., the ability to detect magnetic fields like some birds or to perceive ultraviolet light directly like some insects), but cannot know what we don’t know. We cannot even conceive of what other senses we might be missing. These are the “unknown unknowns,” and they represent a fundamental limit to our understanding of reality. Even our use of instruments to detect parameters we cannot sense directly must be interpreted by the senses we do have. We convert X-rays into images in the visible spectrum, or we represent radio waves as audible sounds. This conversion necessarily involves interpretation and introduces subjectivity. We also know that the signals generated by an animal’s eye probably cannot be understood by a human brain. The brain’s software needs to be tuned for the senses the brain has access to. The inherent limitations of human perception makes the subjective nature of our experience of reality unavoidable. The objectivity of all human observations is thus a mirage. Empiricism is necessarily subjective.

Scientific inquiry remains the most powerful tool humans have developed for understanding the world around us. With sophisticated instruments to extend our limited senses and by using conceptual tools such as mathematics and logic and reason we gain insights into aspects of reality that would otherwise be inaccessible to us. Never mind that logic and reason are not understood in themselves. But our experience of reality is always filtered through the lens of our limited and species-specific senses. We cannot therefore eliminate the inherent subjectivity of our observations and the limitations of our understanding. We cannot know what we cannot know.

I do not need to invoke gods when I say that “magic” exists, when I define “magic” as those things beyond human comprehension. This definition avoids superpower connotations and focuses on the limits of our current knowledge. In this sense, “magic” is a placeholder for the unknown. I observe that the process of science requires fundamental assumptions which are the boundary conditions within which science functions. These assumptions include:

  • Existence of an External Reality: Science assumes that there is an objective reality independent of our minds.
  • Existence of Matter, Energy, Space, and Time: These are the fundamental constituents of the physical universe as we understand it.
  • Causality: Science assumes that events have causes and that these causes can be investigated.
  • Uniformity of Natural Laws: Science assumes that the laws of nature are the same everywhere in the universe and throughout time.
  • The possibility of Observation and Measurement: Science depends on the assumption that we can observe and measure aspects of reality.
  • The biological and medical sciences observe and accept but cannot explain life and consciousness.

Science operates within a framework given by these fundamental assumptions which cannot be  explained. These incomprehensibilities are the “magic” that science builds upon. Science can address them obliquely but cannot question them directly without creating contradictions. If we were to question the existence of an external reality, for example, the entire scientific enterprise would become meaningless. Science can investigate their consequences and refine our understanding of what they are not, but cannot directly prove or disprove them. These assumptions are – at least currently – beyond human comprehension and explanation. Science builds upon this “magic” but cannot explain the “magic”.

Magic is often ridiculed because it is perceived as invoking beings with supernatural powers which in turn is taken to mean the intentional violation of some of the laws of nature. The core issue lies in the definitions of “magic” and  “supernatural.” I take supernatural to be “that which is beyond the laws of nature as we know them.” But we tend to dismiss the supernatural rather too glibly. If something is beyond comprehension it must mean that we cannot bring that event/happening to be within the laws of nature as we know them. And that must then allow the possibility of being due to the “supernatural”. If we do not know what compels existence or causality then we cannot either exclude a supernatural cause (outside the laws of nature as we know them). In fact the Big Bang theory and even quantum probabilities each need such “outside the laws of nature” elements. A black hole is supernatural. Singularities in black holes and the Big Bang represent points where our current understanding of physics breaks down. The laws of general relativity, which describe gravity, become undefined at singularities. In this sense, they are “beyond” our current laws of nature. A singularity where the laws of nature do not apply is “supernatural”. Dark energy and dark matter are essentially fudge factors and lie outside the laws of nature as we know them. We infer their existence from their gravitational effects on visible matter and the expansion of the universe, but we haven’t directly detected them. Collapsing quantum wave functions which function outside space and time are just as fantastical as Superman. All these represent holes in our understanding of the universe’s composition and dynamics. That understanding may or may not come in the future. And thus, in the now, they are supernatural.

Supernatural today may not be supernatural tomorrow. It is the old story of my technology is magic to someone else. Magic is always beyond the laws of nature as we know them. But what is magic today may remain magic tomorrow. We cannot set qualifications on what we do not know. What we do not know may or may not violate the known laws of nature. While we have a very successful theory of gravity (general relativity) that accurately predicts the motion of planets, we don’t fully understand the fundamental nature of gravity. We don’t know how it is mediated. In this sense, there is still an element of “magic” or mystery surrounding gravity. We can describe how it works, but not ultimately why. The bottom line is that we still do not know why the earth orbits the sun. We cannot guarantee that everything currently unexplained will eventually be explained by science. There might be phenomena that remain permanently beyond our comprehension, or there might be aspects of reality that are fundamentally inaccessible to scientific investigation. By definition, we cannot fully understand or categorize what we do not know. Trying to impose strict boundaries on the unknown is inherently problematic. We cannot assume that everything we currently don’t understand will necessarily conform to the laws of nature as we currently understand them. New discoveries might require us to revise or even abandon some of our current laws.

The pursuit of scientific knowledge is a journey into the unknown, and we will encounter phenomena that challenge our existing understanding. But we cannot question the foundational assumptions of science without invalidating the inquiry.

Science depends upon – and builds upon – magic.


Legacy media is no longer “the medium” and their messaging is becoming irrelevant

December 21, 2024

It seems that data (based on circulation numbers versus subscribers or followers) shows clearly that legacy media is no longer “the medium” and consequently cannot carry the message. The recent US Presidential election being a case in point. Marshall McLuhan’s thesis that the “medium is the message” is in fact being confirmed as the medium shifts.

Legacy media – probably as a reaction to the internet and social media – has abandoned all traces of impartiality and has adopted blatant biases as a misguided way of stemming at least some of the waves who are abandoning them. I had great respect once for, among others, The New York Times, The Guardian, The Washington Post, The Times, The Telegraph, The Times of India, The Hindu, Reuters, AP, El Pais, Le Monde, der Spiegel, Deutsche Welle, and even NHK. Not any more. They are now part of the legacy media I consider irreversibly corrupted by their bias. The bias is most evident in the political arena but has now seeped into their coverage of sports and the arts. I see that the LA Times which was even more blatantly biased is now trying to shift direction but it is not likely to be very successful.

Legacy media will no doubt struggle on but they will all only struggle on to bankruptcy. They are now as obsolete as roaming bards, town criers or wall news-sheets. Legacy print media is going downhill fastest but even broadcast TV for messaging is dying.

ktwop:

The decline in circulation numbers for traditional print media, coupled with the rise of digital subscriptions and social media followings, strongly supports the idea that legacy media is dying. This shift directly relates to Marshall McLuhan’s famous assertion that “the medium is the message.”

The reasons can be broken down as follows:

  • Changing Consumption Habits: People are increasingly getting their news and information from digital sources. This includes online news websites, social media platforms, blogs, and podcasts. This shift in consumption habits directly impacts the reach and influence of legacy media.
  • The Medium Shapes the Message:McLuhan argued that the medium through which a message is conveyed is as important, if not more important, than the message itself. The format of a newspaper, with its structured layout and focus on in-depth articles, creates a different experience than scrolling through a Twitter feed or watching a short video on TikTok.
  • Digital Media’s Advantages: Digital media offers several advantages over traditional media, including:
    • Accessibility: Information is readily available on various devices and platforms.
    • Interactivity: Readers can engage with content through comments, shares, and likes.
    • Immediacy:News can be disseminated quickly and efficiently.
    • Personalization: Algorithms can tailor content to individual preferences.

As a consequence and as their audience shrinks, legacy media outlets are drastically losing their ability to shape public discourse.  Social media influencers and online personalities are shaping the conversations as they build large and engaged followings. People are increasingly getting their news from different sources, leading to fragmented audiences. Very often their sources are their own echo chambers and can reinforce existing biases.

The data clearly indicates a shift in media consumption, with digital platforms taking center stage. This shift validates McLuhan’s thesis, highlighting the profound impact of the medium on how messages are received and interpreted. 


Exploring the Nature of Logic, Reason, and Rationality

October 10, 2024

There is always circularity involved when considering logic, reason and rationality. One set of definitions gives:

  • Logic: The study of valid reasoning.
  • Reason: A broader concept that encompasses logical thinking, critical thinking, and problem-solving.
  • Rationality: The quality of being reasonable or logical.

What is logical is not always considered reasonable. Yet we derive the rules of our logic from our reason. If we try and define what reason is we come back to logic and what is rational. But we also differentiate between logic and reason and rationality. It seems to me that all claims of objectivity whether for logic or reason or rationality are trying to square the circle. 

Thinking through the nature of logic and its relationship to human reason, I am struck by the idea that logic, as we know it, may be much more of a human construct than being anything objective or universal. Logic, with its clear-cut rules of deduction, can only be a mirror of the world we claim to observe. It is a reflection of how humans perceive the world—through patterns, cause and effect, and binary distinctions between truth and falsehood. The concept of truth and falsehood as binary and mutually exclusive is a foundational assumption in classical logic, and propositions are either true or false without any middle ground. (The Law of the Excluded Middle). The rules of logic derived by reason are assertions and are fundamental assumptions. The binary distinction between true and false and that the one excludes the other is also just an assumption. It does not reflect all that we observe. It seems logical to us to say that if A is true, then B must follow, and if not-A, then not-B. But is this framework truly a reflection of the world as it is, or just a convenient tool we’ve developed to make sense of our observations?

I conclude that logic is inherently tied to the human mind – and particularly to individual human minds. It is a product of how we, as humans, experience the world through our senses, our language, and our understanding of cause and effect. Our observations, no matter how often repeated, and no matter how many times duplicated, are all perceptions. A delusion shared by multitudes does not make it true. A perception shared by billions does not make it any more objective than a single individual’s perception. The idea of something being “true” or “false” may not be a feature of the universe itself but a structure imposed by human cognition. A spider, for instance, will perceive the world in ways that are entirely alien to us, and it may have an entirely different logic that makes sense within its own experience. What we call “logic” could thus be nothing more than a human artefact, and there might be other forms of reasoning—unknown to us—practiced by other species or even extraterrestrial beings.

I must reject the idea of an absolute, objective logic. If logic is shaped by the mind that perceives the world, it cannot be universal. It must always involve the observer, making it inherently subjective. What we consider logical may not be logical to other beings whose cognitive processes are different from ours. I am quite certain that our pets do not consider our actions always to be logical. Logic, as a formal system, can only tell us what conclusions follow from given premises according to certain rules, but it does not tell us why those rules reflect the reality we observe—or whether they would hold in different contexts or for different minds. The rules of logic only give us an assumed correct process of thought, given a starting true condition, to reach other true conclusions. But logic does not attempt to define what truth is. It takes as a foundational assumption that what is not true is false and vice versa.

Hence, logic clearly is connected to but is not the same as reason. Further, I find it interesting to explore the distinction between what is reasonable and what is logical. There is no law of nature which requires us to act logically (or reasonably for that matter). Human actions may overrule what is logical to instead be reasonable or even unreasonable. While logic is about formal consistency, reasonableness is about sound judgment within the real-world context. A conclusion can be reasonable—based on experience, intuition, or practical considerations—without being strictly logical. Conversely, something can be logically valid but still seem unreasonable when we take into account broader factors like emotion, ethics, or practicality.

Thus, human reason is much wider than logic alone. I like to think of it as logic being the correctness part of that part of the thought process which needs to be bound by rules. Reason needs much more than just thinking correctly. Reasoning often involves flexibility, considering context, emotion, and pragmatic outcomes, whereas logic is strict and rule-bound. It is this broader sense of reason that helps us navigate the complexities of human life, and where strict logic fails to account for the richness of our experiences.

I conclude that logic is a guideline for structured thinking, but it is not synonymous with being reasonable. It is a product of human thought, applied to our thinking. It is tied to our perception and cognition, and its validity can only extend to be within the boundaries of what we can observe or understand. Reason, on the other hand, embraces a much wider scope. Reason brings judgement into play. To make judgements needs a set of values to compare with. The use of reason is what brings a judgement of what is “best” to do into play. Logic only allows us to follow the rules but reason allows us to act wisely and sensibly in a world that is often too complex for formal logic to capture.

But it also means that logic applies only to thinking and is no constraint on human actions. Reason is what we often use to overrule logic and as the justification of our actions. In this way, reason functions as the adaptive, real-world application of human thinking, whereas logic remains an internal tool for organizing thoughts, not necessarily dictating how we behave.

Even truth is an artefact of the mind. The world around us exists – it is. That part we perceive as observations (direct or indirect or implied) we take as being existential truth. This is the closest we get to any absolute truth and even that is tainted as being a perception of a human mind with all the limitations and foibles of that mind. A brute fact it seems, but still subjective. And everything else we take as truth is just a perception in a human mind. 

Logic, reason and rationality are all artefacts of human minds. They are all subjective. There is no such thing as objective logic – except as a subjective perception.


Philosophy has never – ever – answered any question

September 27, 2024

The usual definitions of philosophy are along the lines of (Oxford Languages):

  1. the study of the fundamental nature of knowledge, reality, and existence, especially when considered as an academic discipline.
  2. a theory or attitude that acts as a guiding principle for behaviour. 

But this leaves me very dissatisfied. I am especially irritated by the reference to an academic discipline. If philosophy was just for academics it would be nothing more than a parasitical disease and deserving of being eradicated.

I observe the following:

  1. Philosophy only deals with unanswerable questions. The study of philosophy “increases understanding” but has never, ever, conclusively or finally, answered a question.
  2. For the decidedly finite human mind (brain + senses), there are many things which cannot be known.
  3. What cannot be known is a function of the mind (senses + brain = species) in question.
  4. What a dog cannot know is different to what a chimp cannot know. What homo sapiens cannot know today is different to what homo superior will not be able to know sometime in the future.
  5. As species evolve the unanswerable questions change.
  6. Where a question has an answer, it is not philosophy.
  7. Philosophy is about first posing questions that cannot be answered. Then it is about seeking answers and the methods of seeking answers.
  8. Philosophy may increase understanding of the difficulties of finding answers to particular questions and help to set limits around the questions, but never has (and never will) definitively answer such fundamental questions
  9. We are no closer to knowing the nature of reality, truth, existence, consciousness, causality, time or knowledge now than we were 10,000 years ago.

It seems to me that we have to start with the fact that human cognition is limited. Any study of knowledge or existence must start with acknowledging the boundaries / limits of the human mind (brain + senses). Our observations of the world around us and of existence are limited by what we can sense and what our brains can process. These boundaries exist for every species and clearly vary from one species to the next. Evolution, not thought, can change these boundaries. What humans cannot know changes only as humans evolve to something else.

Philosophy is about knowledge and its limits.

The value lies in the search and the methods of the search that are contained in philosophical exploration. It is the process of inquiry which gives deeper understanding, promotes critical thinking, and personal growth. Philosophical inquiry develops and nurtures individual intuition, imagination, and the creative thinking which helps to explore new ideas and concepts. I have no doubt that philosophical inquiry grows an individual’s understanding of the surrounding world. Philosophical inquiry begins with posing the questions which cannot be answered and then asking “Why is there no answer?”

But what cannot be known by humans remains what cannot be known. Philosophy answers no questions (never has, and never will). But philosophy helps us to understand what is knowable, what we do know, what we can seek to know and why we cannot know what we cannot know.

So I would redefine philosophy as being

“the search for the boundaries of knowledge and of thinking which limit the understandings of the human mind”.


Perceptions of beauty

June 4, 2013

Science is Beauty

Science is Beauty

Perceptions of Beauty from  Philosophy of Beauty (Department of PhilosophyUniversity of Maryland)

Symmetry and asymmetry

 

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Labrets in tribal societies: are they considered beautiful? If not, why wear them?