(Epistle to Stephen Hawking c.1993)
When all that is possible
When all that is now
There still holds the potential
in a time to begin again.
When all that is possible
When all that is now
There still holds the potential
in a time to begin again.
Phenomenalist: ‘It is said that seeing is believing – although, in reality, we might be seeing as we believe, believing we see as we see. However, that’s not all there is to it – our capacity for awareness manifests a deeper intentionality acting as an interface between perception and belief. And our faculties exhibit an imaginative outlook in juxtaposition to the oblivion of an ‘external universe’. So it is no play on words to talk about our realisations as a part of reality in that new and wider sense of the term, with belief as a factor to take into account – the remarkable thing being our ability to do so.’
Realist: ‘It doesn’t prove that existence is anything other than physical.’
P: Nor does a physical universe begin to explain the presence of awareness in existence.
R: Neither can you.
P: It doesn’t mean that awareness cannot be different or make a difference. And what makes us think that it can be better understood by being explained away on the premise that it equates to some oblivious physical process? Nevertheless, I am not dismissing the reality of the physical or your appeals to the ‘hard facts’; but it’s fair ask, what does it prove – what counts as evidence of change or its absence and where is the proof or disproof that can apply without the overview of our acknowledgements?
R: That’s why we need to trust the objective facts.
P: The objective facts are not the only issue – it’s the knowing which remains inexplicable, which we then put down to the facts being incomplete.
R: But knowledge is nothing without the facts.
P: It’s not the facts that drive knowledge, it’s the residual awareness of their shortcomings.
R: Yet, as you say, we can know only as we are capable of knowing.
P: Though it’s not the end of the story – because ‘knowing that we don’t know’ is a paradox we have yet to come to terms with.
R: And how do you go about that?
P: By understanding that the known is a sublimation of a deeper unknown which we may or may not choose to recognise – that the highest mountain of factual knowledge conceals a bottomless chasm of unknowing. Thus, we know we are alive, but how do we recognise the fact? All our investigations begin with the realisation that there is something we don’t know – which is why, despite all the answers, our questions about the origins of life keep on coming. Nor is our belief in causality the answer – for either a particular cause ‘explains’ an effect because there is no ‘real’ difference and nothing to explain, or the effect differs and there is everything to explain. And this residual gap in explanation gets bigger when it comes to the reality of the mind – as if we could ever be satisfied by the knowledge that the mind is really a thing, namely the brain, which does the asking then provides the answer.
R: So you are an advocate of the mystery of existence?
P: I would call it the paradox of existence, which can’t be circumvented by our logical analyses of the facts in the belief that explanation dispels mystery, and the truth can be preserved by avoiding contradiction. Indeed, we push language to the limits simply by trying to describe the ‘it’ of existence.
R: Because we can only see what there is to see, so the logical way forward must be to stick to the facts of perception.
P: However, perception is not just a copy of the ‘thing perceived’, and the difference is crucial. At a more advanced level, we can look ahead, beyond the particulars, using the imagination, knowing that the fact of perception in existence – the change to perception – is evidence, at all stages, of a new and different kind of reality.
R: But how can a person see beyond themselves?
P: It happens to be the charter of inductive science. And it’s not so far fetched to imagine a nature that is now imbued with meaning, purpose, intention and self-knowledge, or to consider where it might lead – especially when you see how science is now trying to plug the gaps in explanation with extrapolations from quantum physics about the possibilities of plural realities existing within an infinite array of parallel universes – something that scientists openly admit to not understanding.
R: Obviously, we’ll just have to wait and see.
P: You’re expecting that the facts will sort themselves out, but if we can take a lesson from the fact of evolution, it is that we might have to wait a very long time. And if perception can afford an overview, it is by way of looking beyond the facts – if we want to see what’s in store.
R: You said the facts weren’t the problem.
P: Not if we come to terms with their paradoxical implications. The problem lies with the theories we use to embellish the facts and the rationalised beliefs we invest in them in the name of explanation.
R: Then how are we to manage our theories?
P: It requires a disciplined imagination – something that science alludes to in the formulation of scientific hypotheses and thought experiments.
R: To what end?
P: To see the bigger picture in which reality changes by being known – in which the capacity to know is more than a property of the things known, and that it also works like that with ourselves. We can only see beyond ourselves in this way by imagining our place in a reality that turns out to be more than all that is in the present form – a present that is inextricably a part of a future yet to be. So we are and are not ‘just ourselves’, no matter how alone we may feel in the mist of it all. Indeed it is the rationale of believing that we can only be ourselves that generates a very real, yet unrealistic, feeling of being alone – something that we do to ourselves for the sake of what we are prepared to believe.
R: Then what should we believe?
P: We should understand that belief is both a help and a hindrance. This is what children learn in growing out of their childish beliefs. We need to learn that belief is not everything – it is but the temporary staging point of what we take to know in a wider, paradoxical, reality where what we believe and know is subject to change but is also a part of the scene – in which realities become unrecognisable in terms of one another – just as change may render our former or future selves unrecognisable to us as we are now.
R: How do you expect anyone to accept that they are better off in trying to be other than themselves?
P: You keep falling back onto the logic of ‘either/ or’, when the reality is ‘both/ and’. In fact we already know that expectation, knowledge and understanding change how we perceive the world – because perception always was more than the object perceived – and that it turns the perception of ourselves into a paradoxical fact. It is a difficult lesson to learn about the nature of perception – that there is more to it than meets the eye; and it is even more difficult to appreciate that there is more to us than meets the inner eye – because these paradoxes place reality outside of the grasp of logic.
R: But you are simply replacing a logical explanation with a paradoxical one – namely that things are and are not as we think they are – which seems to be a dodge that enables you to say whatever you want, no matter how irrational and contradictory.
P: But where is the realism in the alternative idea – that a rational explanation will prove that things are limited to the logic of our explanations?
R: Because when the facts are incomplete, logic is all we have to go on.
P: Except we misuse logic by subsuming it to the pre-logical belief that existence is explicable by its causes – as if we have closed the gap in explanation because causality is a self-evident truth and there is nothing else that we need to know – as if there can be no other template for the way things are, and the paradox of the first cause can be consigned to the abstract ruminations of philosophy.
R: Are you saying that things are regulated by events beyond their causes – by things ‘yet to be’– by some kind of entelechy?
P: As can be imagined to have been in store for the universe at its inception, and seen to happen in ‘real time’ by way of effects that systematically differ from their causes. The alternative is that there are no supranatural templates and change is governed by unbounded chance. Then are we to imagine some form of pre-existence of chance behind the origins of everything – if not God, then some-no-thing that ‘plays dice’? And what does it entail, given that forms of order can be seen to ensue? Either way it doesn’t rule out the possibility of alternative realities. Indeed, the ‘rule of chance’ poses the possibility that anything can happen, and anything that can happen will happen, given infinite time. Therefore, a supranatural reality is not such a fanciful alternative to the fickle ‘power’ of ‘pure chance’ or the less understood postulates about quantum events within infinite domains of reality poised to overturn all our experiences about what can and cannot be.
R: It sounds like your philosophy is counter-factual.
P: I would call it post-categorical in that it challenges the conventional wisdom because the accepted facts are not the anchor points we would like them to be. ‘Mother nature’ is paradoxical, becoming quite unlike itself – self-knowing and perceiving. ‘It’ has fashioned a voice in the name of science and shown us facts that confound our concepts – even of ourselves. So who knows what epitomises ‘the truth’, or what else ‘the real’ constitutes? We barely understand ourselves. We imagine that we are nothing without ‘our’ capacity for awareness, which we then struggle to master. We don’t understand the power to exist or its translation into the growth of order and faculty. Apparently, everything exists as a form of existence with dependencies on what came before and potentials for what comes next in the furtherance of the bigger picture. Along the way, possibility frames change in the shape of things to come. Likewise, personal existence is a process of becoming and a constant source of self-amazement as we strive to come to terms with the co-existence of possibility and impossibility in ourselves, whilst pondering whether humanity means anything more than we mean to ourselves as individuals. And our experimental philosophy but touches upon the wonder of it all – that from the realms of the indefinable hails a power to shape our lives, which we are able to recognise only in terms of what we can make of it in ourselves, knowing that nothing stands still and we remain incomplete in all our self-approved accomplishments.
R: Then your ‘answers’ just raise more questions.
P: That’s as it should be, since the knowledge that relieves you of questions will steal your mind. Equally, we deceive ourselves through our ambitions to regulate knowledge with rules ‘for knowing’. However, there is no knowledge in the world without a knower to construe a perceived ‘reality’ of the world – even to imagine an ‘out there’ that shows us the ‘real thing’ (ad lapidem). The problem is, existence confronts our minds with the paradox of its expanding inclusiveness – which behaves like no meagre replication of some other cause. Nor can we find an independent place or time in which to locate its ‘coming-to-be’. So how are we to explain a nature that apparently evolves to look upon itself from within, through us – through another kind of becoming? It would seem, insofar as ‘the seeming’ might vivify a new genus of facts in ‘mental space’, that existence presents us with the paradox of interchanging possibilities and impossibilities – of things that become, thereby to change the fact of what is – something that we are intimately bound up with as ourselves. And ‘the answer’ provided by a paradox is always another question, just like the questions ensuing from the recognition that there is more going on in the universe than we can attribute to its underlying oblivion or our short excursions into a personal awareness.
“To describe the beginning of the universe … ordinary real time is replaced by imaginary time, which behaves like a fourth direction of space.” Stephen Hawking
Phenomenalist: ‘You began by saying that you were responding to the claims made by others. However, beliefs on all sides of the debate leave room for doubt.’
Realist: ‘It doesn’t mean that fairies are real because someone believes in them.’
P: Sir Isaac Newton believed passionately in alchemy, angels and demons – but it didn’t prevent him from being a great scientist.
R: Are you saying it’s realistic to believe in fairies?
P: I’m suggesting that there may be more than one form of understanding, and people retain an intuition that there is something more than the ‘hard facts’ of science, so they look to different forms of expression.
R: It is one thing to entertain fiction and fantasy, but it’s quite another to think that it adds up to a deeper explanation of existence.
P: And yet that deeper explanation eludes all.
R: It doesn’t mean that science is wrong.
P: It doesn’t mean that scientific truths say it all.
R: Although science is nearer the truth.
P: Even when a physicist states that ‘all pathways lead to physics’?
R: What’s wrong with that?
P: It’s true only so long as we are prepared to believe that everything is explicable at an elementary level.
R: But you can’t deny the facts.
P: Does it mean that there is only one way for the facts to be, that the true facts of science reveal the whole truth, that the atoms are more real than our humanity, or that any other pathway is an affront to science and logic because ‘the truth’ is above contradiction?
R: Surely a logical approach to the facts is essential, otherwise explanation would descend into a muddle of meaningless gibberish.
P: As any language sounds to one who is not versed in it.
R: Then please tell me what language you are using.
P: I am referring to the language of explanation in its various colourful and contrasting forms – whether it is couched in terms of scientific and mathematical logic, or the creeds and dogmas of religion, or even the divinations of mythology and magic. They all serve, in their own way, as frames of reference for comprehending reality. And it’s not simply a matter of fact versus belief – for there is no understanding that is not referenced to ‘the facts’ via our beliefs. My point is that explanation is more apparent than real and its conclusiveness is illusory – though we don’t see the shortfalls once we allow it to become the dictator of the known. Indeed, any explanation boils down to a form of expression about what we think and believe on the assumption that the criteria we have adopted are showing us the way things really are. But in reality, and despite all the evidence, explanation deals with the unknown by perching itself precariously on top of it.
R: How does that make fairies real?
P: Despite what we might think, facts cannot speak for themselves and ‘the evidence’ remains subject to judgement and interpretation. Most people accept that nature is weird and wonderful; and the fact that the possibilities have not been exhausted keeps our imagination alive. So you might not be able to debunk a belief in fairies until you can demonstrate their implausibility under all possible circumstances – even as aliens in disguise.
R: So it’s OK for people to believe that they have seen fairies dancing in the woods?
P: There are rational people who would swear to having seen a ghost. Indeed there are many rational reasons for being wrong. So we need to look at how far our ideas stretch the boundaries of possibility, bearing in mind that modern science has some novel ideas of its own in that respect – about multiple versions of each one of us co-existing in undetectable parallel universes.
R: Except science draws the line at things supernatural.
P: Based upon an assumption about what nature amounts to.
R: Based upon a realistic assumption.
P: That being the assumption that everything has to have a scientific explanation.
R: Are you saying that science is unrealistic?
P: I’m merely inviting you to shift your frame of reference from the idea of scientific truths as the only frontier of knowledge. Imagine a frog that knows the world only in terms of its own froggy perspective – being all the more certain about the reality it perceives because it finds that there is nothing else to see. That’s not to say that scientific knowledge cannot evolve; indeed, current ideas of reality and normality might prove to be as narrow as the frog’s compared with what scientists might be saying in a thousand years time.
R: Are you saying that reality is what we make of it – depending on who’s doing the looking and what they are looking for?
P: Everything we know suggests that there are boundaries of possibility in operation. However, it is not the whole story because things can change – additional boundaries come into play, whilst retrospectively it just appears as one continuum. Nevertheless, the outcome is extraordinary – ‘matter’ is now apparently perceiving itself.
R: You’re inviting me to imagine boundaries within and beyond boundaries, so give me a chance – I’ll need a more down-to-earth example.
P: There are many. I have given examples already, so let’s try another tack. A work of art is and is not made of its constituents. That is to say, there is a component that cannot be seen in terms of its physical properties, yet there is nothing but its physical presence to go on. To be precise, a Michelangelo statue straddles the boundaries between the explicable and the inexplicable, even for Michelangelo. It is not explicable as a work of nature just because he can visualise the form in the stone before he starts – and, paradoxically, although the carving might faithfully replicate the natural contours of the human body, it is something that nature cannot replicate in the stone by natural processes.
R: As you say, a work of art is nothing without its physical presence. But you are also saying that things are impossible for nature even though they become possible only through nature. So let me try another tack since, by your own argument, you need to show it would be impossible for a computer to generate the works of Shakespeare by pure chance, given infinite time?
P: Now who’s toying with fiction and fantasy?
R: It’s not so far fetched in the realms of the distant future that you had alluded to.
P: Except, in the first place, there’s no example of nature creating by chance anything resembling a computer. And contrary to popular belief, even radical evolutionists can’t prove that ‘natural computers’, namely brains, evolved by pure chance.
R: So what’s your conclusion?
P: Not so much a conclusion as a reflection on ‘the nature’ of ‘things’: Reality is bigger than the limited explanations we can attach to ‘it’ in the name of being realistic or logical. There is no safe harbour for explanation in fact or truth. The nature of nature changes inexplicably. Evolution and chance are not the causes we make them out to be. Evidence is subject to what we are capable of knowing and proof is neither absolute nor ‘down to earth’ – because the elements are not concerned with matters of self-proof. Furthermore, our presence in the universe is not definable from an atomistic perspective – this being a perspective introduced by the ghostlike presence of objective observers of an otherwise blind naturescape. In fact, the evidence for the existence of ghosts, can be derived from the ‘atomistic viewpoint’ of science – since we exist as phenomenal beings who, by comparison, haunt the atomic reality with our ethereal purposes.
P: Ghosts don’t have to be things that jump out of cupboards just because someone reports that ‘experience’. On the other hand, science isn’t mature enough to dictate what nature must do. The point is that the scientific criteria are not in control of the facts – and the shortfalls in explanation leave plenty of room for speculation; hence even accomplished scientists can find room to retain their supernatural beliefs.
R: I’m not going to let you away with that answer. Where is the evidence that ghosts have a scientific basis?
P: Science supplies the evidence inadvertently – in terms of its explanatory criteria. It’s not unreasonable to consider that we already exist as ghostlike entities by comparison to an atomic reality said to form the scientific foundation of everything. We move about within the atomic flux as superficial perturbations that don’t affect the way things are. At this level we are less than ideas, because ideas don’t exist and there are no purposes in existence. Compared to the state of atomic reality these perturbations are no more real than chance occurrences that do not change the nature of those atomic events. This raises valid questions, such as which is ‘the more real’ and what is the actual difference between the so-called ‘animate and inanimate’?
R: But those atomic principles cause and sustain our existence, so we are directly connected.
P: We are directly connected but not explicable in terms of the causal links – which rather dilutes the cosmologists’ claims to be in pursuit of a theory of everything at that level. Though it’s obvious why scientists maintain this claim, because they believe that their various theories can connect-up, to leave no gaps in explanation – belief being the operative word – all for the sake of imagining that nature, observable as a physical reality, must be more real, indeed the only reality.
R: Well if everyone is a slave to belief, how can we get to know anything?
To be continued…
Phenomenalist: ‘The question is, either science is observing nature objectively, by looking at or upon it, or it is nature observing itself – because science acts in nature. Either way something different is happening to the way things change in nature, since perception now has an active role. So how are we to understand ‘the fact’ of nature?’
Realist: ‘You seem to have overlooked the fact that perception is explained as an evolved capacity that assists survival, which is the same reason why thinking evolved with all its inherent meanings and purposes.’
P: The utility of perception and intelligence for survival is without question, but it doesn’t prove that evolution is the explanation. Evolution is observable as the result of change, but it amounts to a description, not an explanation – although the theory is generally regarded as if it is the cause of those changes.
R: That’s because the theory proves what actually happens.
P: There is no doubting the assiduous detective work that goes into piecing together the facts of evolution, but proving a fact is not the same as explaining it.
R: You’re splitting hairs. It’s the same thing.
P: The distinction is not trivial. The explanations are theoretical, hence it is properly called ‘the theory of evolution’. Evolution appears to make things happen, but ‘it’ has no capabilities – it is no determinant of possibility – so we can’t explain the capacity for things to evolve by noting their evolution. In other words, evolution doesn’t supply an answer to the question of how things are possible. It is neither the beginning nor the end of possibility, nor does it give us an overview of what is possible. In short, evolution is not the cause that we read into it, though it’s easy to see how the mistake arises, given the belief in underlying causes as the foundation of all explanation. However, all the information in a picture doesn’t explain the change to its perception even though changes in one state of reality produce changes in the other. Furthermore, in the bigger picture, we see that causes build upon causes in the constitution of different realities existing in parallel, but it doesn’t allow us to claim that one difference is the explanation of the other or that the unfolding direction of change is explained by the first cause.
R: Nor does the idea of parallel realities help to explain anything.
P: I’m not pretending that there is an explanation for everything. It’s as basic as this: a book is filled with information but nothing is recollected until a reader comes along – so a book is and isn’t the source or explanation of knowledge, it just seems so when using it as a point of reference – but we don’t make the mistake of believing that the book knows anything. The same applies to our observations of cause and effect as an explanation of change. The explanation is in the mind, not in the cause. Nor can we validate those explanations by claiming that they are direct effects of our observations – as if that explains what we see. The same mistake arises when we believe that the brain does our thinking for us.
R: It doesn’t mean that the theory of evolution is wrong.
P: It does and doesn’t – it is wrong to believe that evolution provides a ‘missing link’ that explains change. The theory is not self-explanatory, rather the explanation is an embellishment we attach to the observation that things change – which we presume to evolve that way because the changes are useful in the struggle for survival.
R: So you accept that evolution has a place?
P: However, it’s not the facts of change that owe their origin to the theory of evolution, rather it is the theory of evolution that owes its origin to the facts of change.
R: Nevertheless, natural selection explains those changes as adaptations in life.
P: Except the nature behind it all has no need to be selective. That is, according to the laws of physics, there is no need for life to emerge, no necessity for there to be additional ‘evolved’ states of existence.
R: But there it is – identifiable as a process of natural selection, which is also the explanation of how evolution works.
P: I am not denying the fact of natural selection in evolution, but I am questioning its status as the definitive explanation of change in nature.
R: There is no better explanation. Also you are raising your objection in defiance of all the accumulated evidence.
P: The process of natural selection is but one unexplained change to the nature of nature, and it is not the end of the story. The evidence indicates that things change, and the ensuing difference reveals properties that exist in addition to the observable cause – hence the laws of physics contrast with the relatively extraneous functions of biology, psychology and survival. Nor can we explain away those differences as superficial versions of their underlying causes. At the same time, we see the face of nature being transformed through the activities of a host of shaping influences, which we interpret variously and retrospectively as the marshalling of order, organisation, necessity, need, purpose and design. Of course, science does not associate all of these factors with ‘things natural’.
R: Because the explanation that things exist by design has been discredited scientifically.
P: However, design exists in the real world – so where are you going to place it, or its agents, if it is not in the course of nature as defined and explained by science?
R: But where’s your evidence that nature turns into something else?
P: Remember, I am talking about a plurality of inexplicable natures, compared to a single version which is equally inexplicable. In fact, things diverge in extraordinary ways from a reality seen to be unified by insensible natural causes; but you want to solve the problem by predicting that the facts will one day show us that it is all one and the same, so we might as well start believing it now.
R: Then how would you approach the problem?
P: Despite nature having been described as a ‘blind watchmaker’, implying a non-designer of ‘things natural’, we still have to explain the presence in nature of real watchmakers and their purpose-built designs. To put it crudely, nature works as nature works, with the mind working as the mind works – bear with me on that for the moment – but the fact that thought fails or alters if the bio-chemical system fails or alters doesn’t prove that thought is just biochemistry, or that consciousness is explained by the cells of the brain becoming conscious.
R: So is consciousness floating about in a world of its own?
P: Yes and no. Consciousness is different from other natural states – though we see it as growing out of those states.
R: So how do you define consciousness?
P: By the fact of what we know in being conscious. But there is a reason why we cannot equate it to something else, thereby to explain it, because it means becoming conscious of it as something in addition to itself – the cause of the becoming – which nudges our awareness of the original fact out of the frame for the sake of a non-conscious fact that we claim to be more original. Alternatively, if consciousness is a property of nature, albeit incomprehensible and inexplicable at present, then nature is both conscious and unconscious – something that we wrestle with in ourselves. Either way, it is the definition of nature that gives way, not the fact of consciousness.
R: You still haven’t defined consciousness.
P: You’re missing the point – which is, the moment we try to relate consciousness or thought to something else, ostensibly in the name of explanation, we stand to lose sight of the features we are talking about – since we are now talking about them as features of something else. This is why I asked you to bear with me earlier – because beneath it all, we can see that everything remains unchanged. So, apparently, things change and don’t change – we really are stardust – however, the preconditions for change don’t explain the inception of change, or where it leads. The point is that we need to alter our approach to the way we define things – beginning with our definition of ‘things natural’ – and we can make a start by accepting that we don’t have an adequate understanding of ‘things natural’ or ‘things explained’ or, indeed, ‘things conscious’.
R: Then would you say that the problem is solved by the idea of a grand design within it all and a grand designer behind that?
To be continued
Realist: ‘I don’t see a place for God in the universe. There is no supernatural meaning to life, no divine purpose to existence, no celestial antidote to the finality of death, no sublime answer to those heart-felt ‘why’ questions – and we are quite capable of deciding matters of right and wrong for ourselves.’
Phenomenalist: ‘How do you know you are right?’
R: It’s obvious. Show me otherwise.
P: Do you regard yourself as a product of nature?
R: Of course, and that’s why I can see things for what they are.
P: Then what makes you begin to consider the status of meaning, purpose and the supernatural in the first place?
R: I’m simply responding to what others claim.
P: But wouldn’t you agree that all manner of events take place within nature?
R: What’s your point?
P: Well, things change and either nature represents everything through a plurality of natures or because it hosts a supranatural reality that goes beyond the parameters of the purely mechanistic. Either way, the idea of a universe that remains devoid of thoughts and intentions doesn’t do justice to the facts.
R: That doesn’t prove there is a meaning to existence.
P: Nevertheless, the presence of a mindful, meaningful overview represents something of a larger reality than that portrayed by the blind workings of nature in its biological forms.
R: Aren’t you are jumping the gun by claiming that this proves there is a meaning to life itself?
P: Perhaps it is you who are failing to address the facts, because you want to say that the reality can be explained in terms of its ‘building blocks’.
R: Well it can.
P: Only by redefining the facts to suit.
R: It is you who are doing that, by implying that mental life is something more than the physical properties of the brain.
P: Yet, without a sentient dimension to reality the physical functions of the brain would not be observable.
R: But there is nothing to see except the workings of the brain.
P: However, you wouldn’t expect the brain to display anything else.
R: That’s because there is nothing else.
P: Only at the level of brain processes.
R: Don’t be ridiculous. You are contradicting the accepted findings of science.
P: It was once thought that the brain changes colour when we perceive different colours, but now we know that brain processes differ from the properties of light in the outside world. Likewise thoughts differ in kind from the biological properties of the brain. The evidence suggests that effects, like perceptions, are not simple copies of their causes, otherwise nothing would change.
R: But causality is in control.
P: Although we can’t be sure what it amounts to.
R: What do you mean?
P: Causality is a transitional process – causes change, effects redefine causes and the tide of change raises questions about how to address the evidence – how do we find a basis in fact, and is it right to start by assuming beforehand what must constitute an acceptable candidate? In short, what we find is that the cause doesn’t tell us everything. We can’t even be sure about what nature is and whether we can explain it as a thing that explains other things – the cause of all causes.
R: So what are you saying?
To be continued…
Reporter: ‘What makes life alive?’
Professor: ‘All the things that constitute a living organism.’
R: ‘But those things started out as non-living chemicals – so what makes the difference?’
P: ‘Well, we now know that life evolved gradually and became more and more sophisticated.’
R: ‘So did evolution make life?’
P: ‘Not exactly. It may be that life arose by chance to begin with – in a very primitive form – and evolution took over’.
R: ‘And does evolution work by chance?’
P: ‘Not exactly, but evolution makes the difference that enables life to change and become more complicated.’
R: ‘Then can we understand life better in its simplest forms?’
P: ‘As it happens, evolution tells us more about how life works, even at a basic microbial level.’
R: ‘So what is the difference between a living organism and a non-living thing?’
P: ‘The clue is in the name – in the way a living thing is organised.’
R: ‘How does this show that chance might be the original cause?’
P: ‘Because there’s nothing else to see.’
R: ‘Does it mean that chance is organised?’
P: ‘All we can say is that something happens.’
R: ‘But how does not seeing a cause mean that it can be identified as chance?’
P: ‘You need to understand that science is based upon a combination of observation and reason, and scientists are always ready to change their conclusions when new facts are observed.
R: ‘So we can conclude this interview in the knowledge that evolution does and does not explain life, and chance may or may not be the cause – because the fact of an explanation does and doesn’t mean that the facts are explained.’
P: ‘As it happens, there is no better explanation than the scientific one.’
R: ‘Is it the observation of life as different that causes the problem for explanation, especially when it is scientifically plausible to look at it in terms of something else – as if the problem can be reduced by identifying its non-living causes? Is that why some scientists want to regard viruses as alive and computer viruses as forms of life created by us?’
P: ‘Who knows what we might discover in the future.’
R: ‘But surely it all goes back to the fact of life as something different, otherwise we would have no idea of what to look for or explain?’
P: ‘Perhaps we will find new forms of life in the universe which will completely change our ideas about what life is’.
R: ‘Except you must be able to spot a vital difference in order to identify it as alive, and we can’t avoid the problem of explaining that difference by finding out that life is really something else – it just shifts the burden of explanation onto something else.’
P: ‘That’s the fun of doing science – we just never know for sure where the evidence might lead us.’
R: ‘Then we will have to conclude by admitting that we don’t even know what amounts to a conclusion.’
Nature: the great unknown
‘known’ to everyone.
– too big to be a thing
– too general to be a cause.
The omnipresent godforce of science
– the putative power to be
– the archetypal source of everything.
A ghostly presence inhabiting every happening
– the orderer of orders
and progenitor of necessity.
The grand non-explanation
defined of itself
in being as it is
‘for no purpose’.