Expeditious Evolution

From the very beginnings of life on Planet Earth to today, evolution has gradually brought about change and adaptation. As environmental conditions have altered, bringing about new climates, life forms have soon followed suit—the luckier variations altering to thrive in the new situation, while the less fortunate ones died out. This elegant process has caused relentless and progressive adaptation on the part of plants and animals—with the result that, at any given moment in time, the mix of living species is fairly well balanced.

There have been, however, numerous occasions when the environment changed so dramatically and rapidly that many species could not adapt quickly enough, so they became extinct. There have been half a dozen or so catastrophic events that caused some 70-95% of plant and animal species to disappear, but life soon adjusted and began to flourish again, as new species came into existence.

We are now in the midst of the latest major environmental change. It is being designated as the Anthropocene Age transformation—whereby the planet is rapidly heating. This change is being brought about by humans. And the rate is hundreds and thousands of times faster than in any comparable change in the past! That faster pace will likely see the extinction of far more species than in the past.

And yet there is already evidence that some animals are currently altering their physiology, in attempts to adapt to the warmer conditions. Some of these critters have slowly evolved (over millions of years) to find ways to radiate excess body heat. Birds' beaks help them cool, because their bills are not covered with insulating feathers. Similarly, some furry animals have evolved hairless ears, tails, and legs, in order to shed excess heat.

Current scientific research is showing that some bird species are adapting to hotter climates by growing larger beaks—to radiate heat better. Some mammals are growing longer ears or less hair on their legs. Some bats have had their wing size increase. This is evolution in action, and is rather heartening. But there may well be more to the story that is less heartening. Might these recent changes negatively impact other bodily needs, such as the ability to avoid predators or attract sexual partners? Might the changes be better at dissipating heat, but worse off for other needs?

Most importantly, the Anthropocene climate change is occurring at breakneck speed—over dozens of years, rather than thousands. That is too fast for some species to respond. Unable to change in time, they face the prospect of disappearing. Time will tell, as they say.

Squirrel Quirks

I have enjoyed observing the behavior of many different animals around the homestead, over the last several decades. My motivation to do so, besides the delight of watching them, is to learn how to better live with them (1) by coming to know the qualities of the critters that I consider beneficial or enjoyable, in order to find ways to welcome them into our routine. (2) For those animals I find problematic, it similarly helps to understand them, so that we may coexist with minimal strife. (3) And for the vast majority of critters who I see as neither enjoyable nor annoying, it still helps to get to know them as members of Nature's wonderful world.

The more I learn about our resident critters, the more I come to see each one as a unique individual. Not all mice or crows or oak trees behave identically. They each have their own peculiar traits, and that has sometimes led me to see them as possessing personalities... personalities that differ, just as each human has their own unique disposition. For example, some mice are bolder than others. Some deer are more curious. Some chickadees are more tame than others. I sometimes even come to feel that I can tell one individual from another—simply through its familiar behavior.

Now comes a study by researchers at the University of California Davis, that shows squirrels exhibit human-like personality traits. The researchers spent lots of time observing and tracking a certain species of squirrel. They observed such things as how various squirrels reacted to their mirror images or how closely one could approach a squirrel before it ran away. But most of the work was simply hours of watching and noting—the classic technique of ethology, such as championed by Jane Goodall and Franz de Waal (both of whom I have written about before).

What they found in squirrels was a wide range of bold, aggressive, athletic, and sociable behaviors. Some squirrels were simply more outgoing. Bolder and more active squirrels covered more territory and were more successful at finding food. Aggressive squirrels claimed better perches, from which to spot food or predators. However, those same audacious critters sometimes paid the price of being at greater risk for accidents or predation. Doesn't that seem similar to various human personalities? Audacious men often score better with women, but also are more likely to get into fights. Sociable people tend to have a wider circle of friends, but often have more shallow relationships than shy people.

One of the results of the UC Davis study was that the researchers came to see individual squirrels as “who” rather than “it.” I sometimes have even given names to individual animals who I have come to recognize as having distinct personalities.

Jupiter's North Pole

 

This is a photo of Jupiter's north pole, taken by NASA's Juno spacecraft. At the center of the photo is a huge cyclone, surrounded by eight smaller ones. Juno was launched in 2011 and arrived at Jupiter in 2016, to study its atmosphere and interior composition. The mission is ongoing.

Colonialism’s Triple Transgressions

The sins of colonialism are beginning to be recognized and acknowledged, in recent years. By definition, colonialism is “the policy or practice of acquiring full or partial political control over another country, occupying it with settlers and exploiting it economically.” European states did it to indigenous lands in the Americas, the Mideast, Africa, and Asia. The US later followed suit and exploited American Indians, as well as countries in Central and South America and throughout the Pacific. The admission of these colonial transgressions has been a long time in coming—partly because the winner always writes history and because the colonial powers of the West often convinced themselves that they were called to spread the word of civilization and modernization (often describing it as “the white man's burden”). They saw themselves helping to civilize backward peoples. In fact, it was brutal exploitation.

Western colonialism has committed three successive types of crimes, that began over half a millennium ago, and continue through today.

The first crime was the invasion and domination of dozens of lands, the world over. This was not war—it was simply a takeover by the stronger invader. Although the rationalization was often given of spreading civilization, in fact the real reason was to acquire resources and to expand the territory of the dominant country. The colonial powers extracted oil, minerals, agricultural products, and even people (to enslave). Introduced agriculture was established in the conquered lands—to export back to the homeland such products as rubber, cotton, sugar, tobacco, drugs, etc. People of the occupied lands were often forced either to purchase these products or create them for the pleasure and wealth of the residents of the colonial powers.

The second crime committed by the colonialists was to abruptly pull out their forces and administrators, when pressure mounted to terminate the occupation, in the mid 20th century. They left behind a debilitated situation, whereby the former colonies were unprepared to govern themselves adequately. Corruption that had begun under foreign rule blossomed and crippled chances to bring about a functioning and just society. In many cases, the former colonies—now ostensibly autonomous—remained under the economic thumb of the former rulers. They remained dependent and exploited—now by corporations, rather than by military force.

The third crime of the colonialists is being played out on the international stage today, as millions of refugees from the former colonies flee the terrible conditions there—of war, poverty, and failed governments. The former colonial powers—predominantly Europe and the US—do their best to block the refugees from entering and finding safe haven. This is particularly merciless, given that the population of the developed states is declining, and they could benefit from the presence of the refugees. Instead of a deserved welcome, refugees are met with a xenophobic response.

Many people think that we live in a post-colonial world—that the offenses are behind us. A more honest appraisal, however, shows that the colonial transgressions are ongoing.

Aristotle’s Administrations—Part 3

At the founding of the USA there was an additional factor that compromised the ability of the USA to be a true democracy: slavery. Of the 13 original states that ratified the proposed constitution, about half of them (in the South) based their economies on slavery. They feared that they would become dominated in a representative government by the more populace northern states, so they forced two compromises to be written into the Constitution, as a condition of their joining the union: (1) their voting power must be augmented by adding three-fifths of their enslaved people to their population, and (2) the creation of the Senate as a legislative body made up of two representatives from each state. The first compromise gave the slave states more weight in the House of Representatives, which is based on population; and the second compromise did much the same in the Senate, by giving the less-populated slave states an equal two-senator power to the more populated northern states.

So, the US form of government—from the perspective of Aristotle's six types of regimes—is neither a true democracy nor a true oligarchy. It falls somewhere in between. In fact, our tendency is actually toward a plutocracy, not an oligarchy. What is the difference? An oligarchy is the rule by a small, elite group, while a plutocracy is rule by the wealthy. It is a fine distinction, but an important one, as the real power in the US today is held by the rich… that so-called 1% that has amassed increasing power, the last few decades.

So what could be done; what changes might be required, to move the US towards a real democracy? There are several specific changes that could be implemented. Here are a few: (1) Eliminate the various forms of voter suppression that are currently being practiced by several states; such as making it difficult for non-white people to vote (there are many laws that do so), stop arbitrary purging of voter lists, eliminate gerrymandering (manipulating the boundaries of voting districts so as to favor one race/class or party), and other methods of blocking some people to vote. (2) Eliminate the electoral college, which has allowed several men to become president when in fact they lost the popular election. (3) Change the Senate election rules, so that smaller, more rural states do not possess the outsized power that they wield today. (4) Set term limits for members of Congress and the judiciary. Many of them stay in power for decades and begin to behave more like aristocrats than citizens. (5) Set campaign contribution limits. Today's laws favor the rich and those with close connections to corporate funds, which is the source of plutocrats holding power.

Any or all of these specific changes would bring about a more genuine democracy, but there are two general or systemic changes that have their origins going back to those ancient Greeks. The first—and fundamental—change would be to educate the populace. The minority of educated and well-to-do citizens from ancient Athens to the 21^st century have always been suspicious of the masses—especially those common folks who are uninformed and are rarely involved in governance. The fear is that the multitudes—if given a little power—will wreak havoc, because they simply do not understand the complexities of running a country. If they pursue their own personal interests, the “greater” interest of the nation will go unanswered.

There is some validity to this fear. What is the simplest way to allay it? Educate the citizenry! It is a simple concept, although not at all easy to implement—mostly because our education system does a poor job of edifying people. Critical and discerning thinking are of low priority. Our educational process is interested in creating obedient people, not independent thinkers.

Even more detrimental today to creating an educated populace is the spread of misinformation on social media. Worse yet is intentional disinformation aimed at the populace. A working democracy requires informed citizens—not confused and deluded people swayed by fallacious “facts.” Where false rumors once spread with impressive speed through the populace, disinformation in the internet age goes viral and proliferates literally at the speed of light.

The second general change that could strengthen democracy is to appoint representatives not by flawed and biased elections that favor the rich, but by lottery. This option would best be implemented by combining it with the previous educational option. A lottery would be truly impartial, in that every citizen would be called upon to serve. It would eliminate the grip that plutocrats currently possess, by forcing a more equitable representative body of citizens to be in control. Like the New England town meeting, a lottery process would be more complicated and time consuming than our representative election process, but would be far more impartial than today's unequal and unfair voting practices. There is one feasible example of a lottery system operating in today's society: the appointment of juries. An accused member of society can request trial by jury—a form of judgment by one's peers, chosen randomly.

I am thankful for a recent introduction to Aristotle's six varieties of regimes. It has helped me step back and see the bigger picture and then to highlight the ways in which modern regimes—especially those who claim to be democratic, especially in my own country, the USA—measure up to democracy's tenets or how they fall short.

Aristotle’s Administrations—Part 2

Fast forward to the world today. Does true democracy exist? Again, the definition of a democracy is governance by all people for the benefit of all people. As  Abraham Lincoln aptly described it, “of the people, for the people, and by the people.” The purest form of democracy today can be found in the governance of small groups, such as New England town meetings—wherein all citizens gather, discuss issues (thereby informing each other), and then all vote.

When a populace grows larger than a few dozen people, however, direct democratic participation is not feasible. It is far too cumbersome and time-consuming to assemble everyone and to allow all views to be expressed. So most democratic states today practice a form of representative democracy—wherein individual citizens are elected to represent their constituency. The representatives then gather, to discuss and vote on behalf of their electors.

This form of governance, however, is often not a true democracy in practice, for several reasons. The first reason is that elections are often not fair and balanced—thus the people's representatives often do not actually act on behalf of all of their constituents. This situation can occur when voting restrictions prevent some people, such as the poor or minority citizens, from voting. 

A second reason is that, although representative democracy should be open to any citizen choosing to run for office, it usually is not; only those with the necessary finances and connections are able to mount a campaign. Thirdly, while a true democracy requires representatives to have term limits, actual democracies often operate more like aristocracies, in that those in control attempt to maintain their positions and power indefinitely.

But possibly the greatest shortcoming of present-day democracies that fall short of the goal is that citizens are not well informed, so even if they can vote, they often do so with a misguided understanding. Uninformed and misinformed citizens can be dangerous. This was a fundamental concern of ancient Athenians. They did not trust common people to understand the complexities of governance. Only those who had vested interests in society, and who were experienced and were educated, should be allowed to participate, they maintained. Women and enslaved people did not qualify. Thus, although Athens is regarded as the West's first practicing democracy, it was not a case of all people having a voice in managing the affairs of state. It was not an authentic democracy.

Turning to the USA—regarded by many (especially its citizens and officials) as the modern world's most enduring and valid democracy: How does my country rate, by Aristotle's classification, as a democratic society? The US Constitution begins with the words “We the people...” and continues, to imply that this government is established for the purpose of ensuring that its citizens are in control of their political and economic destiny.

Those are noble intentions, but two major concerns guided the efforts of the founders of the US Constitution, that compromised their ability to form a true democracy: (1) a tyrant like King George III must be blocked from unilateral and absolute control and (2) commoners could not be trusted with the reins of power. (They shared that second concern with the ancient Athenians.) 

Going back to Aristotle's three forms of regime that he saw as having the welfare of the people as top priority, the American founding fathers were determined to avoid forging a tyranny (rule of one), as well as a real democracy (rule of the many); the latter because they distrusted the ability of commoners to govern. Thus, they established a constitution and a governmental methodology that actually is a blend of autocracy and democracy. Those founders were, after all, well-to-do, propertied, and educated white men (virtually no women.) They even fancied themselves as aristocrats—people who occupied an upper class position, and they expected to remain in that elevated position.

As a result, the US Constitution and America's subsequent implementation of its government created a flawed democracy. The founders did a pretty good job of avoiding a tyrant, but also shut out the voices and participation of over half of its citizens. Their fear of the “tyranny of the masses” was very strong.

Next time, more on US democracy… 

Aristotle’s Administrations—Part 1

From his perspective of the varieties of governance he observed in ancient Greece, Aristotle described six different kinds of regimes that countries had or might establish. He listed them and then examined their respective advantages/disadvantages, weaknesses/strengths, and viabilities/failures. His categories still have relevance today.

Aristotle sorted his six regimes into two contrasting groups of three: those that function for the benefit of all citizens, and those that function primarily for the benefit of those who govern, or hold power. That is, he contrasted selfless regimes with self-serving regimes. In each case, the three regimes are ruled either by (1) one individual, (2) a small group, or (3) everyone.

His three regimes that rule for the benefit of all are (1) a monarchy (single ruler), (2) an aristocracy (rule of the few), and (3) a polity (rule of the many). (See table) Today we regard monarchies and aristocracies as heavy-handed forms of governance, but they could be ethical and even virtuous in Aristotle's time—if they truly had the welfare of citizens as their priority and actually benefited the populace; and at times they did.

	One	Few	Many
Benefit all	Monarchy	Aristocracy	Polity
Benefit ruler	Tyranny	Oligarchy	Democracy

While a polity—rule by all for the good of all—is theoretically possible, it works only for small groups and can even be rather utopian, in that it supposes everyone must be unselfish and altruistic. A polity may have worked for small hunter-gatherer bands, for example, but by Aristotle's time a polity was virtually unworkable, due to the size of the citizenry. In fact, he concluded that all three types of regimes that function for the good of everyone were either utopian, or unrealistic, because the temptation for those in power to serve their own purposes was just too great.

So Aristotle's second group of three regimes—those that are ruled by and for the benefit of those in power are (1) a tyranny (single ruler), (2) an oligarchy (rule by a select few), and (3) a democracy (rule by many). As he looked around his world, these were predominantly the actual forms of government that he observed. They were neither utopian nor ideal, but existed—if often rather flawed.

The first type—rule by a tyrant who uses his power only for his own benefit—is clearly unacceptable, although all too common, even today. The populace is oppressed, harmed, and have no rights. The second type—rule by an oligarchy is far less problematic than tyranny, but can still spurn the welfare of citizens, as the oligarchs have their own interests in mind, not the masses.

Of the six types of regimes listed by Aristotle, democracy has been deemed the best option, because all citizens have some say in government, and they make decisions in their own interest. That was, in fact, the form of government essentially practiced in Athens, in his time. It is the form of government that the USA and many modern states argue that they have. It is regarded today as the best form of governance; although still too often flawed. As Winston Churchill once quipped, “democracy is the worst form of government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.”

The issue of creating a true democracy is, however, not that straightforward. It is not at all simple. In ancient Athens, for example, even though it was the Western cradle of democracy, all the people could not participate in governance. The only citizens that were allowed to participate were propertied males. Women and slaves were excluded. So Athens' form of governance was actually more like an oligarchy than a democracy, because only a minority of the populace governed. In fact, the Athenian oligarchs did not believe commoners should even have a say in governance, because they were ill informed and had no idea how to manage the city-state. Only those who had the education and experience were fit to govern, they believed.

Next time: Regimes today…

Emperors Underway

Antarctica's emperor penguins exhibit one of the world's most fascinating and formidable procreation processes, that play out in the dead of an Antarctic winter—in one of the harshest weather conditions on the planet. The females lay their single egg and then depart from the continent's interior—for a long trek to the sea. That journey will replenish their body fat and allow them to survive. In doing so, they leave behind their male mates (no same-sex relationships in this game), to care for the family's egg, over the coming severe weather spell.

Each male coddles his egg in a protective pouch above his feet. His job, over the next few months, is to keep the egg from freezing, by huddling with several dozen other fathers, to generate some warmth in the interior of the huddle, by their bodies alone. They do not eat during this time, as their body weight drops from about 85 lb (40 kg) to some 50 lb (23 kg).

How do they survive, in temperatures of -50⁰ F (-46⁰ C) and strong Antarctic winds? The fathers pack together—jamming tightly against one another—which can raise the temperature at the center of the group up to 100⁰ F (38⁰ C). That may be fine for the interior penguins, but what about those poor guys out on the perimeter, who face the full blast of the Antarctic winter?

Once again, Mother Nature has devised a way for the group to survive. It is an emergent process, in the sense that something extremely intelligent emerges from the behavior of a collective of simple animals. Just as a large flock of starlings will cluster tightly together, creating a swarm of birds from which emerges a beautifully evasive group maneuver that baffles predators, emperor penguin clustering creates a process by which the they survive—even thrive.

The birds on the bitterly cold windward side of the cluster will slowly migrate around the outside to the warmer leeward side—getting some protection from the frigid conditions. This shuffling group motion exposes the next interior group to the cold, who soon also migrate around, pushing their former cold companions toward the center and those cozy interior temperatures. As this process unfolds, the entire penguin huddle slowly migrates downwind. The tight group is constantly on the move; constantly underway as each father shuffles along. Thus, each member gets a chance to get a little respite from the bitter winter. Collectively, they survive.

Just before the fathers expire from starvation, the mothers—full of fat and energy—come to the rescue, relieving their mates, who now take their own long trek across the ice, to reach the sea and put some weight back on. The moms take over, regurgitating food for the newly-hatched chicks.

Doggy Discernment

Living with a dog, one gets to continually observe their behaviors and quirks. Having had dogs for most of my life, I've watched their activities and noticed that each one has its own peculiarities. That is an obvious observation that anyone who's been around dogs or cats has had. Each critter has its unique personality.

But there's an additional fascinating thing I ponder, as I watch my canine friend. She will, for example, crawl into my lap for cuddling, and sometimes lie there for half an hour or more, and at other times quickly leave and go stretch out on the floor, or even spurn the comforts of my cozy lap. At other times she will select a specific toy to play with and then abruptly drop it and engage in a completely different activity.  At other times I will watch her trot towards the kitchen and then suddenly turn around and head towards her crate.

What's going on here? For myself, I know that when I become involved in a given activity I do so, because my thought process led me to do it. At times, however, another thought comes to mind and I abruptly change direction. (That seems to happen more, as I age.) I usually explain my behavior as being caused by what I am thinking about at the moment, and how a new thought abruptly changed my mind and headed me off in a new direction, toward a new task.

So, what about my doggy friend? What causes her to engage in certain activities, when she suddenly abandons them for a different plan of action? Has she had an alternative thought come to mind? Is she thinking ahead? Or is she just unthinkingly responding to the stimuli of the present moment?

I recently acquired a little help in resolving some of these questions. A group of university researchers became intrigued by the fact that some dogs, when addressed by their master in a certain way, will fetchingly cock their head to one side, as if listening or thinking intently. The scientists wondered about what the cause of this head tilting was, so they engaged in a clever study to explore the issue. They noted that when dogs were tasked with retrieving a named toy from another (out-of-sight) room, the “smarter” dogs were far more likely to cock their heads to one side (interestingly, always the same side for each dog), pause (as if thinking), and then go seek the requested toy. The less smart dogs were not inclined to cock their heads and were far less successful in retrieving the asked-for toy.

Border collies are known to exhibit greater intelligence than most breeds. In this experiment border collies also inclined their heads to one side far more often than other breeds, upon being asked to retrieve a certain toy. The researchers concluded that when a dog cocks its head, it is a sign of attentiveness and concentration. They concluded that they were indeed observing canine cognition.

I realize that it makes no sense to attribute my mental processes to a dog, based on what I would think in a similar situation. But dogs do think. They must have thoughts rolling around in their heads, although there is no way we humans can get inside those heads to find out. Moreover, they cannot talk to us and explain their cognition. So I am obliged to watch my dog and speculate on her ruminations, as I see her apparently “change” her mind. I ponder what I might be thinking about, if I were in her place.

Bee Queue

 These bumble bees have lined up to sample the delights of a daffodil. The one in line seemed impatient. Click to enlarge.

Essential Existence

So, in consideration of the previous post—which argues that I am of no matter to the universe—can my existence have any consequence at all? Maybe not to the cosmos, but my being here certainly means something to me. I matter to me, even if I'm infinitesimally unimportant to it all. My life is important to me—it’s all I’ve got—and if I try to make the most of it, it can also matter to those around me.

As I described in my last post, I believe it is useful for me to admit that my life is not the least bit essential to the universe—maybe no more so than a single bacterium on the end of my toe can mean to me; among the trillions of bacteria living on and within my body. We each are contingent—in the sense that while we do exist, there is no necessity for our existence.

So there is no reason for me to be. I just am. There's no plan, no destiny, no fate. I mean virtually nothing to it all, and yet I am privileged and fortunate to be a part of it all. I am a manifestation of the magnificent universe.

So what about this life can matter to me? That question has no definitive answer that fits every one of us. Meaning is a very relative term. One person's meaningful life is another's wasted life. So, taking a slightly different tack, by delving a bit more into the word “meaning,” my dictionary tells me that it can also connote such things as significance, value, purpose, worthiness, or being of consequence. 

Thus, a way that can bring meaning to my life, I believe, is to make the most of this gift of life I've been given, by seeking worthiness and fulfillment. To me, that means I can find meaning in things such as growing, learning, and helping others. If my life contributes to the welfare of those around me, I am helping my tiny corner of the cosmos to become a bit more healthy and enriched. Does that not bring some meaning into my life, if not also to others around me?

Here are some useful questions that I can ask, when contemplating the meaning of my life: Am I living my ideals? Do my ideals make sense? What can philosophical and spiritual traditions bring me, to increase the meaning of my life? How may I help others' lives to be more meaningful?

There are no final answers to these questions, and any answers I find will be different from those of others, and maybe different to me, next year. In the end, my life does mean something to me—if not to the cosmos. It's essential to me. And when I ponder these questions, the only consistent answer I encounter, is to do what I can to realize my full potential and then assist others. That can truly give my life meaning.

Inconsequential Existence

Each of us is inclined to believe that our existence matters—at least to ourself, if not to others. This is a way we may express that we want meaning in our life. Each of us naturally feels that our life has some significance; that it matters, if only because we are inclined, from our perspective, to believe that the universe revolves around us. We seem to be at the center of it all. That is the natural way we perceive our world.

In fact, that is the perspective of most creatures—particularly those who do not enjoy the attributes of a developed consciousness that we humans have. We, unlike other animals, have the ability to imagine getting outside ourselves, to take a more objective view of things. When we do so, we can do a pretty good job of understanding that other creatures—particularly those with a less developed consciousness—have a much more confined view of reality. Nonetheless, we can't help but view our world from a self-centered perspective.

If we ponder the vastness of the universe, however, we are forced to conclude that our individual existence is not at all of consequence to it. Consider first the physical scale of the universe. I am but one individual among billions (even trillions) of beings on planet Earth. Earth is but one planet among several that orbit our sun. Our sun is but one star among billions in our Milky Way Galaxy. Our galaxy is but one among billions of such galaxies in the universe. Add all those multiple billions up, and you can see that each of us is an infinitesimal physical snippet of our universe. So how can I be at the center of it all? How can I be of any consequence to this mind-boggling cosmos?

Let me demonstrate the minuscule nature of our existence even further: now in the time dimension. How does my life span compare to the age of the universe? I might be lucky enough to stick around for about 80 Earth years. The planet has been here for some 60 million times longer than that. And the universe has been around for about 170 million times longer than that. But my life gets even more negligible, if I peer into the future and come to understand that the universe is at present in its infantile stage. It may be almost 14 billion years old, but some astronomers estimate that our universe may last some 100 trillion years! It's just getting started. So, from a spatial or temporal point of view, my existence is so vanishingly small as to be completely inconsequential to the universe. I am not at the center of it all. 

So, what do I make of my insignificant relevance to the cosmos? To some people, this can appear to be a nihilistic message—my life is nothing... it is meaningless. I disagree. It's only meaningless if I have bought into the message that the universe was created solely for the pleasure of mankind—which is an extremely limited and self-centered point of view.

Rather than believe that I am at the center of it all and then feel devastated when I come to see that I'm not, I think it's far more meaningful to understand that I'm blessed to be a conscious part of something so vast and magnificent and to be able to know that. Let me celebrate my being here, and my ability to comprehend its majestic nature, even if I'm an inconsequential part of it all.

The next posting will consider my existence from the other side of the coin: If I am an inconsequential part of he universe, how can my life matter... at least to me, and what do I do about it?.

Helix Nebula

 

This gorgeous photo of the Helix Nebula--a planetary nebula--is some 700 hundred light years from Earth. The white dot in the center is the star that blew up to create the nebula, which looks like an iris. (NASA) 

Inequality Incongruences

One of the more troublesome aspects of human societies is the persistent inequality that is present in most cultures—some worse than others. Prior to our settling down into settled, agrarian enclaves, some 10-12 thousand years ago, human communities were far more egalitarian. Hunter-gatherer bands were inherently more equal, as all members contributed their labor. Hierarchies came into existence after permanent settlements were formed and people began to acquire more things. Mechanisms for division of labor and power surfaced and began to establish different degrees of control and authority.

Inequality has plagued humanity ever since. Hierarchy has created societies in which some members are perpetually held down, into classes that are considered inferior. Others have assumed superior positions, which they then come to regard as their rightful place.

The hierarchical and oppressive nature of societies has swung from extremes of outrageousness to some degree of moderation—depending on who holds power; whether it's the elites or the masses. The poor have occasionally prospered, usually following disasters or revolts against the rich. Thus the pendulum of the degree of class and inequality has often swung from one side to the other.

For example, a century ago the severe inequalities of the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries led to the Great Depression of the 1930s. After recovery and including the effects of World War II, economic disparities were significantly reduced for a few decades. Many people on the lowest socioeconomic levels enjoyed a period of moderate comfort, as many of them moved into middle class lives.

Since about the 1980s, however, the pendulum has swung the other direction, as the wealthy classes have once again dramatically increased their assets—creating another period of extremely high degree of inequality once again.

If people the world over were to be surveyed, I believe that the majority of them would likely agree that inequality has both increased and is widespread today. Even many of the powerful and rich would agree. Most people would probably also maintain that inequality is harmful. But that's where a consensus would end.

Strong disagreement would quickly appear if people were asked about specifics of inequality, such as: (1) how did it come about?, (2) how unjust is it?, (3) what could be done to create more egalitarianism?, (4) is the current (or any) level of inequality acceptable?, (5) do some people deserve to be poor, by having brought their poverty on themselves?, etc. Maybe the lack of agreement is partly responsible for the persistence of inequality: there may be wide concurrence that it's harmful, but little consensus on what to do about it. Some people feel it's inevitable, some are seemingly ignorant of its scale, and a few are even quite content with it. Does it need to get even worse, before enough people rise up and insist upon change?

Corporate Command

Half a millennium or so ago, businesses were small, and usually in the form of partnerships. A business was begun by the parties investing their own money, or from loans. If the enterprise failed, the partners suffered the direct consequences—either losing their money or sometimes going to jail.

Larger business enterprises were needed in the West by the 17^th century, because governments could not finance all the adventures that they desired—such as expansion into colonial domains. The first corporations were formed at that time; such as the Dutch and English East India Companies. These entities were chartered by the state, and were expressly restricted to entering into market efforts for public purposes only. So the state held considerable power over corporations, to be sure that their ventures were for the good of the people.

In order to promote the creation and success of these first corporations, the state granted them considerable political and military power, in order to protect their investments in far-off lands. The money to establish a corporation was raised from wealthy investors, who then realized large profits from these lucrative enterprises. Unlike partnerships, the charter of corporations contained limited liability provisions—that protected the investors from failure of the venture. The corporation might become bankrupt, but the shareholders were not financially liable—at the worst they would lose their initial investment.

Due to this support from the state, these first corporations often were very successful. The markets established in India and other Eastern countries earned their shareholders enormous gains—to a large extent due to their political and military power that they wielded over those weaker states.

By the 19^th century, corporations had gained sufficient power to begin to be able to influence laws back in the home country. Some of those laws allowed corporations to enter markets that no longer had to conform to public needs. In this way they accrued ever greater profits and power, which allowed them to become increasingly independent of the state.

Into the 20^th century the conflicting demands of corporate shareholders, boards, management, and employees brought about a jockeying between these various interests. By mid-late century, corporate boards began shifting priorities to the needs of shareholders and management (thus away from employees and the public), when they began to link management’s pay to the share price and profits.

This gradual accumulation of ever-greater corporate power encouraged risk and entrepreneurial adventures, which allowed corporations to become the behemoths that are now often international in nature and beyond the control of any state. Today corporations command almost unlimited power, no longer needing even to consider the needs of citizens—let alone their employees.

As-If Attitude

Zhuangzi was a sage who lived some 2400 years ago in China, in what is called the Warring States era. It was a time when the previous benevolent dynasty (the Zhou) had collapsed into several petty states, which for several hundred years fought among themselves, creating instability and chaos. Several sages offered their suggestions about how to return to peaceful and just times.

Probably the most well-known Chinese sage was Confucius, who advocated a ritualistic way for people to return to refined and honorable behavior. He maintained that if society's leaders practiced moral rites and modeled them for ordinary citizens, society could become more pleasant and gracious once again. 

Many people consider Confucius to have taught rote rituals, that seem artificial and hollow. Michael Puett, a Chinese scholar at Harvard, has a very different interpretation. He points out that Confucius' real intent was to conduct rituals “as-if” the repetitive (and sometimes pointless) motions that one performs could actually lead to magical or transforming results. It wasn't the belief that mattered, or its results—it was mindfully adhering to an honorable rite, that over time brought about a peaceful and ethical life. The process itself can be transforming. If we behave as-if it's true, we open to new possibilities.

A few hundred years after Confucius, Zhuangzi came onto the Chinese Warring States scene. Michael Puett describes Zhuangzi as another as-if teacher. Here's why. One of the witty and edifying stories that Zhuangzi told was how he one day awoke from a dream, during which he had imagined himself to be a butterfly. The fascinating aspect of his tale was that he wondered if he had been Zhuangzi dreaming of being a butterfly, or if he really was a butterfly dreaming that it was Zhuangzi. What was real?

Puett points out that Zhuangzi used this riddle to teach the value of empathy. The Chinese sage suggested that we might try to imagine what it would be like to be a butterfly—as-if we could put ourself in the shoes of a butterfly. That is a huge challenge—and maybe even impossible—but it could help us find ways to begin to understand what it would be like to step into our human adversary’s sandals. We could benefit from putting effort into trying to imagine how the opponent might perceive the world—to do it as-if we could. This attempt can open us up to others' perspectives, will break us free from our narrow viewpoints, will draw us closer together, will promote respect, and thus can lead to a culture of peaceful and moral behavior. Ancient teachings coming from a very different culture and situation are still relevant today.

Misperceptions of Being Separate

There is a fundamental discrepancy between Western and Eastern perceptions of the way in which each of us exists, relative to the rest of the universe. While those of us in the West tend to view ourselves as individual entities that stand apart from creation, people in the East see themselves submerged into a unitary whole. While we in the West are comfortable with our unique separateness, those in the East take comfort in feeling connected to it all. While we prize our distinctiveness, they value their community.

This sense of distinctness and independence is strong within us Westerners. We absorb it from our culture and come to accept it as a given. The concept permeates our social and political lives. We come to see ourselves as distinctive and different individuals. We are oriented toward personal goals of success and achievement. We seek equality in personal relationships, or, alternatively, to be in a superior position in hierarchical relationships.

In contrast, people in the East do not like to stand out from the crowd. Rather than seeking personal accomplishments they value harmonious social relations. For example, there is no word for “individualism” in Chinese; the closest the language comes is the term for “selfishness.”

This significant difference between Western and Eastern perspectives is largely responsible for how a Westerner struggles with Eastern religious perspectives that describe a oneness to everything. Buddhism expresses our Western feelings of separateness from the universe as an illusion. Some in the West might talk about being “one with it all,” but that often comes from a limited, new-age interpretation.

I became a student of Buddhism a few decades ago, and have benefited from bringing meditation and mindfulness into my life, but I still struggle with understanding how I may let go of my Western image of being separate from it all. It's just too ingrained within me. It’s too easy to convince myself that I may intellectually comprehend my unity with it all, but deep in my gut I can't help but feel separate... often even isolated.

A recent idea came to me in meditation, that may help me feel more a part of it all, but it may well take a while for me to own the concept. All of my perceptions of myself or the world—my very understanding of existence—culminate in electrical signals in my brain. When I view a tree, photons enter my eye, impinge upon receptors on my retina, which send electrical impulses to my brain.  My total perception of the tree is that set of signals.

Similarly, sound wave vibrations are funneled into my ear canal, tickle three little bones in my middle ear, which induce vibrations on my cochlea, which then get transformed into other kinds of electrical signals in the brain. It's the same with my other three senses—taste, touch, and smell. All of them create certain specific electrical signals in my brain. Thus my view of the world is in reality nothing more than a complex field of neuronal impulses in my cerebral matter. It's literally all in my head.

So, am I really separate from that bird I hear singing outside? I know its song is “out there,” but my perception of it ultimately culminates in those electrical signals in my brain. That's all I really know about the bird. Even if I see what seems to be a separate feathered being perched out on that limb, that sense of vision ends up as yet another set of electrical signals. I own those signals. In a sense, that bird is now inside me... is a part of me. Is this fundamentally any different from a tingle I feel in my toe—a sensation that ends up as just another set of neuronal impulses? All I can know of either my toe or the bird's call is how my brain interprets those signals. Aren't they all a part of me? Am I not a part of it all?

Dismal Discovery

[Notice: The following story is fictional. I confess that I fabricated it. Nonetheless, something like it could happen some day—so maybe the reader could consider it as a science fiction warning to human beings: that they may be blithely headed toward catastrophe.]

In the year 2050 a spacecraft departed Earth for the planet Oasis, which orbits the star Alpha Centauri—a little over four light years distant. Back in 2025 Oasis was discovered, and it created great excitement, because it seemed almost like a twin of Earth. It was about the same size, in the same comfortable temperature zone, and exhibited an atmosphere very similar to Earth's.

Subsequent examinations of Oasis, with new telescopes and analysis tools, confirmed the theory that it was likely to harbor life. Yet no electromagnetic signals or other signs of advanced technology were detected coming from the planet. If life existed on Oasis—and all indicators suggest it might—maybe it was in a more primitive stage, and had not yet evolved very far.

By 2050 the climate of Earth had become very dangerous for its biological inhabitants. Humans had thoughtlessly continued their damaging behavior, until it was too late to rescue the planet from incurring atmospheric tipping points that flipped the environment into severe conditions. It was like returning to a climate situation of millions of years before, when hellish circumstances would have made life miserable for most of Earth’s current animals.

The spacecraft that left Earth in 2050 had no humans aboard, because their presence would have called for a much larger and complex craft—in order to include enough provisions for the 50-year journey. Thus, it was a robotic mission that arrived at Oasis in 2100. It orbited the planet, to confirm the data that had been acquired from Earth (which it did), then sent down a lander, to examine conditions on the ground.

The findings were shocking. Oasis had once been inhabited by technologically advanced beings, but all signs of that developed life had vanished ten million Earth years before. It became obvious that something on Oasis had caused all advanced life to become extinct, and now the only life forms there were extremely simple—and appeared to be once again evolving towards more complex life. Something catastrophic had happened long ago on Oasis.

When these findings were transmitted back to Earth, in 2100, it caused much anguish and soul-searching. Many decades previously, a few cautionary scientists had registered their concern that humans were transforming Earth into a polluted place that could cause many species to expire—including Homo sapiens—and that it would require millions of years for the planet to recover. Conditions on Oasis seemed to substantiate that fear. Was it now too late to rescue Earth and save many of its species—including humans?

If so, the dismal truth that had been shown by Oasis could occur on our precious planet: our damage could be complete and decisive. Earth's life forms could take a ruinous hit, and it would require millions of years for life to recover and begin again. That was devastating news for humans in 2100... they were staring into annihilation. 

For Earth-the-planet, however, the prospect was of minimal threat. The planet had been through several previous extinctions and would endure the current nasty conditions and eventually recover. There were yet hundreds of millions of years over which Earth would continue to evolve—quite likely without presence of destructive Homo sapiens.

Astral Origins

Our universe sprang into existence nearly 14 billion years ago—according to astronomy’s current understanding (the date is as yet not absolutely accepted as gospel… science often updates itself). For something like 100 million years after that Big Bang origin, the cosmos dramatically expanded, but would have been essentially invisible at the time, as it consisted almost entirely of hydrogen gas ions. Darkness prevailed and stars had not yet formed. It was a pretty bleak and lonely universe.

Then the first stars began to form some 200 million years after the Big Bang. The cosmos was still rapidly expanding at the time, but now some of that hydrogen began to clump into clouds. Gravity exerted its force and those hydrogen clouds began to compress—increasingly so, until the first stars winked on... or rather ignited, from the intense pressure. That point in time is sometimes called the “cosmic dawn.” Now starlight illuminated the nascent universe. It was no longer totally dark.

Astronomers are very curious about the birth of those first stars. If they could be observed by telescope, our knowledge of the workings of the early universe would be significantly expanded. What were they like? How large and bright were they? What happened next, in the unfolding of the universe? The answers to these questions would help validate our current understanding and models of the cosmos or show us where they may be in error and thus how to improve them.

The most powerful telescope that currently peers not quite that far back in time is the Hubble Space Telescope—the workhorse that has for 30 years shown us some amazing photos and helped confirm our existing cosmic models. Hubble reaches back tantalizingly close to the cosmic dawn, but cannot quite image those first stars.

NASA's James Webb Telescope is the next step in capability beyond Hubble, and astronomers have high hopes that this telescope will reach back to those initial stars and offer some answers to our questions. Astronomers have all their fingers and toes crossed—hoping that the James Webb scope will finally be launched this November. Its launch date has repeatedly been postponed for several years, due to design flaws and thus the program's cost is astronomically over budget. A lot of nail biting will be done by NASA employees between now and November, when it may actually be launched. A lot of money and prestige may soon be lost or, alternatively, gloriously resulting in new discoveries.

[A brief reminder: Due to the continuous expansion of our universe, these long-ago star-birth events occurred at vast distances from Earth... so vast that light (the fastest moving thing in the cosmos) takes billions of years to reach us, to allow us to see these events. So when we first view the light from these initial stars, we will be actually detecting light that shown forth from them, over 13 billion years ago. Those rays may be new to us, but they've been en route across the vastness of space for that long.]

Winter Scene

 During these hellish, hot days of August, it can help to remember this winter panorama scene of a few years ago. Click to enlarge.

Descartes' Denial

I have written before about how Aristotle's teachings in philosophy set a supreme standard that still holds today—2500 years later. His reputation is so firm and strong that he is often referred to as simply “The Philosopher.” His teachings on science (called “natural philosophy” in his time), however, were subsequently shown to be mostly wrong. Unfortunately, his status was so towering that his errors prevailed for two millennia. The fact that the Catholic Church's teachings aligned with Aristotle's ideas helped to extend his theories over that long period of time.

Rene Descartes, in the 17^th century, began to speak out against Aristotle's scientific opinions. He was joined by the Irish scientist Robert Boyle, as well as several others. Both of them especially rebelled against the complex (and confusing) concept of “form,” which was championed by both Aristotle and Plato. Form, they believed, is the essential nature of something—a very abstract idea that says little about its particular qualities, and says nothing about what caused that something’s form.

Descartes and Boyle argued that the ancient concept of form is too vague and offers little help for allowing one to understand the important, causal physical properties of something, as well as how it behaves. They put forth instead what they called a corpuscular view of matter, proposing that all matter is constituted of tiny particles called corpuscles—a couple of centuries before the existence of atoms was proven.

They maintained that corpuscles move, bounce against, and connect to each other, and that their behavior is governed by the laws of motion—laws which had been expressed a few years earlier by Galileo Galilei. The Church tried one last shot at promoting Aristotle’s notion of forms, when a Jesuit, Francisco Sucrez, proposed that every object has a soul. Just as the human soul guides people from the inside, the soul of a tree guides its qualities from within and causes its form. It was a supernatural, not a scientific, explanation, however.

Descartes rejected this idea as even worse than Aristotle's teaching, because he was sure that inanimate objects could not have a soul. His—and Boyle's—idea was that the corpuscular theory provided a simple, mechanical world view. The activity of corpuscles drove the behavior of the parts of an object; it behaved like a machine. In fact, Descartes said that the body of living creatures is also like a machine, and does not require a soul.

Descartes soon displaced Aristotle, regarding the nature of matter. His and Boyle's ideas played a huge role in the scientific advances that occurred during the Enlightenment (late 17^th, into 18^th centuries). Nobody is perfect, however, and Descartes later expanded upon his views; saying that animals are machine-like and possess no soul, as humans do. He maintained that animals—being like machines—have no feelings, and do not therefore experience pain. It was another couple of hundred years before this concept was debunked—a period of time when physical harm to animals was deemed acceptable. As a result, we are finally beginning to treat animals with appropriate respect... well, except those we raise for meat.

Contamination Conundrum

Ever since we began sending humans and spacecraft to some of our solar system’s planets and moons, we've been concerned about the possibility of cross contamination—either contaminating those heavenly bodies with earthly microbes, or returning home from the Moon, after having picked up some alien microorganisms and spreading them around our planet. We note that many kinds of earthly invasive species get transported to new locales on Earth and then subsequently overrun native species, because there is nothing to check their proliferation in their new environment.

Could alien microbes (either from Earth, transported to other bodies, or from space to here) run amok and annihilate native species? This was the plot of H.G. Wells's novel War of the Worlds, which described the impending destruction of humans, until the invading monster Martians fell prey to earthly microbes and expired. The first three NASA astronauts returning from the Moon in 1969 were quarantined for three weeks, until it seemed unlikely they had picked up some Moon bugs.

These experiences have caused NASA to become increasingly concerned about contaminating any possible life on Mars or various solar system moons, where life might be harbored. It would be tragic to discover past life on one of these bodies, only to realize later that we'd inadvertently caused it to become extinct by introducing our germs. The problem has become increasingly challenging, since we've recently found many so-called extremophiles on Earth that have been shown to be able to survive the severe conditions of space, so we now know that we may have been sending invasive bugs throughout the solar system for a few years. 

NASA is fully aware that its past sterilization techniques were far less effective than today's meticulous methods. The Viking spacecraft that landed on Mars in the 1970s were most likely carrying a few Earth microbes, because they were not disinfected as thoroughly as is done today. What is the chance that those landers planted microbes that have had nearly 50 years to multiply and flourish? We are currently conducting quite sophisticated tests on Mars by rovers, to see if life might exist (or did exist) there. Could we possibly end up discovering the presence of our own bugs that have since mutated into Martian species?

But wait: there's also the possibility that all life on Earth originated not on this planet, but on Mars (or even elsewhere). Rocks have been found in Antarctica that were long ago blasted off the surface of Mars by an asteroid impact. They floated through space and were much later captured by Earth's gravity. Some of those Martian rocks appear to have microbial life (although that's controversial) enclosed in them. If so, could Mars have contaminated our planet? Might are we all really Martian immigrants?

Like many results in science—the more we come to know, the more we are shown our ignorance. So we continue looking for life elsewhere. Will we ever find it? If we do, can we be certain it is really alien? It's sort of like the old saying, “We have met the aliens, and they are us!”

Lord of the Rings

After years of searching everywhere, I finally found the Lord of the Rings. Click to enlarge.
 

Canine Cognition

I believe that my dog possesses what psychologists call “theory of mind.” I realize that some people would take exception to that claim for a mere dog, so let me describe why I make such an audacious allegation.

First, what is meant by theory of mind? It is defined by some experts as the capacity for empathy, as well as an understanding of what might be going on in the mind of others. Digging deeper, the result of that understanding is that the other (sticking for now to people) possesses beliefs and perspectives that are different from one's own.

So, for humans, it's the capacity to comprehend that another human is having thoughts that may be dissimilar from mine, yet I still have a good chance of guessing what's going on in their mind and can act accordingly. After several decades of living with my wife, for example, I have come to have a pretty good guess at what she is thinking when she finds my dirty socks on the floor and gets “that look.”

We humans are really quite good at guessing what's going on in the mind of another human, aided greatly by the fact that we use language to inform them about what we are thinking. In addition, we expect that our minds are very similar and operate in similar ways.

But what about my canine friend? She has a very different mind and cannot converse with me in my language. Well, she does in fact have a mammalian brain, which certainly operates far more like mine, than the minds of an insect or a crocodile. Thus, my dog's mind and my mind might be able to guess what’s in each other’s brain, to some limited extent.

Additionally, my dog and I have lived together for a few years—so we've had many occasions to learn, by trial and error, what the other may be thinking; just by observing each other’s behavior. We have unwittingly conducted many experiments that help us to penetrate each other's mind. We've come to make some pretty good guesses about what the other is thinking. Additionally, body language and tone of voice contain lots of supplemental information to verbal language.

So here's something she does that recently made me think that she really possesses some kind of a theory of mind. She is very quiet—she rarely barks or whines. So when she needs to go out to pee, she quietly stands at the door, looking through it, occasionally looking back at us, until we notice and let her out.

When she wants to come back in, however, she seems to comprehend that we can't see her on the opposite side of the door, so she does not simply sit and gaze at the door, waiting for us to notice her. She quietly scratches at the outside of the door, to signal us. Once again, no whining or barking—just her gentle signal which recognizes that although we can't see her, we can hear her gentle, scratchy request. Is she not comprehending that our perspective is different from hers—that we cannot see her and need more information? There is no verbal language to help her communicate with us (she can’t speak out), but she sure uses other effective forms of communication.