ambivalence

Wired, Issue 16.02

Morality, spirituality, the meaning of life — science doesn’t handle those issues well at all. But that’s cool. We have art and religion for that stuff. Science also assumes predictable cause and effect in a world that’s a chaotic, bubbling stew of randomness. But that’s OK, too. Our approximations are usually good enough. No, the real reason science sucks is that it makes us look bad. It makes us bit players in the Big Story of the universe, and it exposes some key limitations of the human brain.
Look at it this way: Before science, we humans had dominion over Earth, the center of the universe. Now we’re just a bunch of hairless apes on a wet rock orbiting a minor star in a marginal galaxy.
Even worse, those same cortexes that invented science can’t really embrace it. Science describes the world with numbers (ratio of circumference to diameter: pi) and abstractions (particles! waves! particles!). But our intractable brains evolved on a diet of campfire tales. Fantastical explanations (angry gods hurling lightning bolts) and rare events with dramatic outcomes (saber-toothed tiger attacks) make more of an impact on us than statistical norms. Evolution gave us brains that crave certainty, with irrational fears of crashing in an airplane and a built-in weakness for just-so stories about intelligent design. Meanwhile, the true wonders revealed by the scientific method — species that change into new species over time, continents that float around the planet, a quantum-mechanical world where nothing is for sure — are worse than counterintuitive. To a depressingly large number of us, they’re downright threatening.
In other words, thanks to evolution, half of all Americans don’t believe in evolution. That’s the universe for you: impersonal, uncaring, and ironic.

I take relief in agnostic views; I do not reject the existence of an almighty being nor support the notion of a God-less world, but neither can I vouch for such an existence. Certainly, religion provides an unshakable justification to the purpose and existence of mankind, injecting an undeniable meaning to life, but on the contrary, the concept of a being that arises out of nothingness is extremely confounding. Even the idea of how we even came up with the theory of God is equally overwhelming to me. I was rather amused to see a featured article in Time a few years ago that discusses the possibility of God being embedded in our genetic code because it seems to be answering one of the string of questions that intrigues me relentlessly. I once inquired a classmate in high school why and how is she so definite about an omnipotent presence in the Universe, and she nonchalantly replied that all you need is faith. I was taken aback and humbled by her answer, yet I couldn’t cultivate the same faith to believe without questioning. ( I was really expecting her to fumble at the question.) As much as I claim to be neutral in my views, I find myself thanking “God” for every blessings that occur in my life. The irony of it all!

In view of the recent book The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, in which he proposes that the rise of religious fundamentalism is dividing people around the world, I somehow believe that the many disparate religions all lead to the same God, differing only in the routes to arrive at the common destination. We share a generally mutual view in ethical and moral conduct, and as a global community we strive to uphold good as opposed to evil. I don’t understand why we should allow differing views in religion to divide and cause a disparaging gap among mankind.

I lean towards the teaching of humanism, which advocates “the dignity and worth of all people, based on the ability to determine right and wrong by appeal to universal human qualities”, although I don’t fully embrace humanism’s “rejection of religion in favor of a belief in the advancement of humanity by its own efforts”.

I swear by the silver rule — Do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you — or at least I hope I have lived up to it. Ten years ago, a friend wrote me a poem which has been embedded in me ever since — The world is like a mirror, reflecting what you do, good to the others, the same they do to you — but life has taught me that it doesn’t pay to be too nice all the time. And you get taken advantage of now and then. I had a doormat personality right until a few years ago until I met someone who changed me. When I look back I can’t help wondering if being nice was just a facade to please everybody around me, and whether beneath the surface I actually had a mean streak. Eventually, one realizes that it’s impossible to please everyone. But it’s not as if I was trying hard to be nice, i just felt uneasy if I didn’t comply with another’s wish, to the extent that I would brood over it for many hours to come. A few people have told me that nice people don’t usually get any higher on the corporate ladder, and one cannot afford to be soft and obliging all the time. Even if you feel awkward about turning down a friend’s request sometimes, you have to say “no” if you truly cannot fulfill the request.

I’d like to think that pure altruism still exists but it is increasingly difficult to give selflessly without expecting a return or gaining a sense of satisfaction from a deed. The undeniable truth is that as humans we feel good when we give. Whatever the case is, I still advocate the silver rule over other rules such as the ever popular brass rule which translates to a tooth for a tooth.