Whuffie - Yes, Whuffie

What might a system based a reputation-based economy look like? Well, apparently Cory Doctorow wrote a piece of fiction exploring this idea.

Link to Wikipedia article on Whuffie

Oh, and Itamar? - I promise a response to Emotional Laziness after this coming Monday!

The Evolution of God

I just watched an outstanding interview with Richard Wright that dances through many of the concepts that Itamar and I are grappling with. Richard Wright just released a book called the Evolution of God that I am going to have to read now.

Itamar - watch this, the whole thing.

Link to Video on Bill Moyers Journal

Emotional Laziness

So why is the word 'God' such a big compromise of intellectual integrity? Well, clearly a picture of a bearded man in the sky has something to do with it. Most standard conceptions of God seem to fly in the face of science, the natural order of things, even just plain logic. But let's see if we can get more precise. Because I would argue that in the end Vijay's (and 1 year ago I would have said my) aversion to word 'God' is as much an emotional block as an intellectual one.

Let's put aside any concept of a God that hears prayers and intercedes in the events of our earthly lives. To me the big question is this: Is there a source of meaning outside of our brains?

For a while I maintained that there isn't, but I've come to feel that there is. And I've gotten there with experiences of wonder and with thoughts about complexity. Somehow the underlying fabric of the natural world is a dynamic cause of order and chaos, and we exist along a chain of increasingly complex evolutionary structures. And our structure is so complex that it is aware of itself and asks questions about its own formation. That part goes on in our brains but only as a result of the last 14 billion years or whatever.

Now, I didn't immediately name that source of meaning as 'God', and I'm still not super entirely comfortable with the word. But here's where I think the emotional block lies. If we think that our existence stands in relation to the structures and dynamics of all things, then the power of the 'act of naming' is not to just to connect to the other people around a shared name, but to connect emotionally to the source of it all.

To me this is only the beginning, because a concept 'God' does not predetermine the emotional relationship. It comes connected to, sometimes burdened by, all sorts of connotations and feelings: fear, awe, thanks, punishment, praise, humility, pride, love and on and on through almost all of them. And that's probably the power of the concept.

So Vijay, is there a source of meaning outside of our brains? And, if it's not already implied, is that source of meaning meaningful to our lives?

By the way, I'm starting to read GEB.

Leonard Susskind on the Universe and Everything

This guy gives some of the most lucid explanations of complex physics that I have heard. Itamar - this is the dude I was trying to remember at some point.

Link to Video on Fora.tv

Communicating Belief

I think one of the reasons that it took me so long to make this post is that I had never really thought about what prevents me from performing "the act of naming". And though I am by no means satisfied with my following thoughts on the matter, I think a good starting point is going back to the quandary of communicating my identity. Itamar might recall what I wrote in my previous post:

"I believe that a true sense of identity comes from being able to associate myself with a set of beliefs and being able to communicate the integral meaning of what I believe to others. Yet, I know that my beliefs are as pure and well-defined as any person who is able to identify themselves as a Buddhist, a Muslim, or otherwise."

What I intended to communicate (in my patented convoluted style) is that it is important for me to separate my need to find truth and the need to communicate that truth and connect with others who share that truth with me. What I am trying to argue is that the "act of naming" (to use Itamar's phase which I really like) constitutes a compromise between these two needs that I am unwilling to accept. More concretely, using the words "a sense of wonder" or "God" (or identifying myself using any phrase or word - other than human, of course) is demeaning to what I believe even though I might be tempted to throw up my hands and say "I give up, I hereby renounce my defiance to withhold from the act of naming!" I refuse to water down or hedge what I believe even if what I gain from engaging in the act of naming provides a mediocre foundation for the most precious of all things, and make no mistake, it is the most precious of all things - community and intimacy with other people.

I almost agree with the entirety of what Itamar means when he says:

"To me "God" is not a question of belief but a question of how you relate yourself to existence, to the universe, to people, to yourself."

I say almost because, on the contrary, I believe that "God" is a compromise between my relationship to existence, the universe, and to all my brothers and sisters and my own personal integrity. I feel as though I am being asked to name what I believe solely as a crude way of communicating my solidarity with other people (which is a noble cause) at the expense of the integrity of my individual beliefs. I like to think that the only way to build solidarity with others is through the still crude, but more honest medium of my actions rather than through naming.

And if pressed, I prefer words like compassion, love, humility, and sincerity to define my relationship with the universe. Clearly, many people who define their relationship with "God" would agree with the power of these words as well. However, if the step that I take from "compassion, love, humility, and sincerity" to "God" is not the dramatic compromise that I say it is, then that would mean that the "act of naming" has become so weakened by modern religion and spirituality that I fail to see the significance of the act. If "God", at this point, is just some abstract representation of the finite intersection of the values that most decent people in this world hold to define their common relationship with the universe that requires no compromise on my part, then it's a meaningless step. Otherwise, it is a compromise that I am not meant to make.

An Act of Naming

So Vijay's looking for an identity that describes positively what he believes. "Californian" is not enough because it carries no belief. "Atheist" is not enough because it describes the negative space of what Vijay does not believe. If Vijay just had a word to call himself so that he could identify himself with his values then he would be self-assured, comfortable in the world, directed, and connected. Right?

Well, I'm not so sure. I don't think human life or human consciousness is built on a logical structure of axioms or beliefs that then orient a person toward the logical consequences of those axioms or beliefs. And I don't think that identifying, clarifying, and isolating those axioms or beliefs is especially meaningful. I think instead that human life and human consciousness is built on a structure of relationships. We are all born directly into relationship; physically attached. Our early development is a process of discovering, evolving, and creating relationship with our parents, with the world around us, and through that, with ourselves.

So what's the value of an identity or a label? It's the way it relates us to people and to the world. And the same is true of the label "God." To me "God" is not a question of belief but a question of how you relate yourself to existence, to the universe, to people, to yourself. I recently came across a quote from Rabbi Arthur Green:

"the step from 'wonder' to 'God' is not an act of inference, but an act of naming."

The act of naming is an act of relating oneself to what is; addressing yourslef to what is. And this I think is what I've been looking for and what I've started to find. Vijay, what do you think holds you back from that act of naming?

A Debate with Slavoj Žižek and Cornel West

I've been watching this particularly relevant (though admittedly dense) debate (much more of a discussion) between Slavoj Žižek and one of my heroes, Cornel West. Slavoj Žižek dominates the discussion, however devotes a significant amount of time to the idea of identifying oneself as an Atheist.

These guys are awesome.

Link to YouTube Playlist

I am (NULL)

There are few things as fundamental and as beneficial to a person as a sound set of beliefs. That's right - a set of beliefs, axioms, postulates, conjectures - oh, you know...the gyroscope in your bullshit detector, the high-level pseudo-hardwired circuits/concepts that determine whether you read the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal, the morning star that guides what people and experiences you feel sympathy towards just to name a somewhat frivolous few.

I suppose that a solid framework of beliefs is something like being uniquely talented at something (not that I would know). No matter how fragile and ephemeral the other aspects of one's life is, it is something that can't be taken away, something that can form the foundation of a fulfilling life, and perhaps most importantly it is a compelling way to identify oneself. Maybe a firm set of beliefs is even more compelling than being super talented at something, it certainly seems that way sometimes.

So let's see, how can I identify myself? Well...I am a human being. I am Indian. I am 25. I am a Californian. I am a Berkeley graduate. I am an engineer. I am a graduate student. 

I would argue that none of these identities is all that compelling. The problem I have with these identities is that I cannot define what I believe with them. That is to say, the words that follow "I am" in the previous sentences map very ambiguously, if at all, to what I would really like to define myself by, which is my beliefs. But I know people who don't have this problem.

Let's try again. If I were one of these so-called other people, how could I define myself? Well...I am a Zen Buddhist. I am an Irish Catholic. I am a Jew. I am a Sikh. I am an Atheist. 

Now I would never suggest that I can provide a strict mapping from each of these identities to a specific set of beliefs. I'm happy that I'm not that naive. However, it is clear that the mapping to a particular set of beliefs is much stronger for any one of these identities alone, than even perhaps, the intersection of my aggregate personal identities.

And there's the rub. Because instinctively (and I would argue materially, but that digression is for another day) I believe that a true sense of identity comes from being able to associate myself with a set of beliefs and being able to communicate the integral meaning of what I believe to others. Yet, I know that my beliefs are as pure and well-defined as any person who is able to identify themselves as a Buddhist, a Muslim, or otherwise.

This brings us to the question that Itamar is grappling with. Is he an atheist? Well, I would argue that both of us are atheists. That is to say that the word accurately describes a belief that both of us have; namely, that "God" in the commonly understood sense does not exist. However, I agree with Itamar that neither of us would identify ourselves as an Atheist.

I think that the Rabbi in asking Itamar, "What do you believe in?", gets to the heart of the question because when someone identifies themselves as an Atheist they have crafted their identity by defining the negative space rather than the positive space. But what I believe both Itamar and I seek is not an identity that communicates what we don't believe, rather it is one that communicates what we do believe.

I hope that this blog helps us define this identity for ourselves and perhaps for others.

So what do I believe?

When I was 14 I told my friends that Man created God and not the other way around.

I've been an atheist for as long as I can remember. A committed atheist. My personal theology has developed more or less like this: Religion is a tool for organizing, stabilizing, and yes, numbing society (with or without opiates). God is a story humanity tells itself. We live in a universe built on randomness. There is no universal truth and no meaning to our lives outside of our own constructs. Human life is validated by the existential choice to say "yes" and imbue life with meaning. And I still believe all of that.

Nevertheless, a couple years ago, as I was just reaching a stage of establishing that "yes," reaffirming that I could seek meaning and have faith in humanity, I had a discussion with a Rabbi. I wanted to talk to him about prayer and how I liked the singing and community feeling but had a tough time with the words I simply didn't believe. I disclaimered the conversation by saying, "To begin with, you should know that I'm an atheist." But the Rabbi turned that around on me and said, "What do you believe in?" And after I told him some short but spirited slice of my view of the universe he said something as silly as could be, yet something that has stuck with me. He said, "I think you and I believe in the same thing."

What?! And then he didn't even explain himself. It was hard to take seriously. He challenged my atheism without even challenging any of my beliefs. Just suggested I wasn't actually an atheist. And the strange thing is that two years later, though I still don't believe in a personal God or in any power that transcends the physical universe, I think he might be right. So what do I bellieve in?

I believe that all the mass and energy of the universe originates from one infinitesimal point in space an time. I believe the fabric of things is deeply random both in the most micro of micro-est interactions of quantum particles and in the macro of macro-est tendency of the universe toward chaos. But I also believe that out of that chaos and randomness has evolved ever more complex order and structure. From simple molecules to stars and galaxies to solar systems to single-celled organisms to ecosystems to the human brain and human society. Islands of complexity evolving from self-sustaining to self-aware. And each moment of the past is present now; nothing new has been created only shaped from the transformations that came before.

And I find all of that pretty divine. Not least of all the fact that I'm capable of contemplating the whole thing in the first place. So that's it. After some 12 years of fierce atheism, I don't think I'm an atheist anymore.