Choosing Religious Assumptions

In my last post, I talked a little about assumptions that we have to make to arrive at religious beliefs based on spiritual feelings (I recommend that you read it before reading this one).  In this post, I will talk a little more about that.

As an example of how we make assumptions to arrive at religious belief, consider Mormonism.  In Mormonism, it is believed that God is the source of all truth, and that truth is communicated through the Holy Ghost.  By studying and praying, an individual can learn the truth about why we are here, what roles our families play, what happens after this life, who Jesus Christ was, what He did for us, etc.

The critical assumptions in this case are that:

1. God exists
2. God is interested in us
3. God is capable of teaching us
4. God teaches us through the Holy Ghost
5. The Holy Ghost communicates by giving us feelings of peace and comfort

These are "critical" assumptions because, if you don't make them, you can't find truth using the method prescribed by Mormonism (It is worth noting that the Mormon view of God's role in leading us to truth is not at all unique among Christian sects).

Now, is there anything special about the five assumptions that I listed?  Is there any specific, logical reason to accept these assumptions instead of another set?  For example, suppose that instead I start with a slightly modified set of assumptions:

1. God exists
2. God is interested in us
3. God is unwilling or unable to communicate with us directly
4. God designed us so that we feel good when we pursue constructive beliefs, even if they are false

This second set of assumptions has as much logical backing as the first, and it will lead to an entirely different belief system from that taught by Christian sects.  We could make hundreds of sets of assumptions on which to build religious beliefs, sets which have as much rational footing as any other.  That's why I mentioned in a previous post that beliefs can be seen as arbitrary - there really isn't anything to recommend one set of assumptions over another other than what happens to feel the best or make the most sense.

Does this mean that we shouldn't believe in God?  Not really.  After all, refusing to believe in God simply creates a different set of assumptions - a set in which God does not exist.  I think that the lesson to take from this is that we should be aware that the methods we use to arrive at religious belief aren't exactly well-founded.  We should allow for the possibility that we could be wrong, that there might be other systems of belief that are at least as valid as our own.  We should be unwilling to do things in the name of God or religion that conscience would generally decry as immoral.

There are also implications in terms of how we view people who have "fallen away" from faith.  All other things being equal (ie. no substantial loss of healthy moral standards), how can anyone say that an individual is worse-off because she decided to build a world-view using a different set of arbitrary assumptions?

Spiritualism

For lack of a better term, I'm using the term "spiritualism" to describe a certain way of looking at the world.  I'm guessing that someone else has already developed more or less the same worldview that I will describe in this post, and that it is probably already called by another name.  Maybe there is a whole philosophy built around it, I don't know.  If you happen to know, tell me so I can read about it.

The fundamental idea behind spiritualism is that it recognizes both the existence and the value of transcendental experiences, but it refuses to attach doctrinal significance to those experiences.  Rather, it takes a strictly existential view of them. Spiritualism only concerns itself with the existential interpretation of the transcendental.  Ugh, what a mouthful.

What I mean should become clear if I explain in a little more detail.  A "transcendental experience" is often called a "spiritual" or a "mystical" experience - it is something that falls outside the norm of everyday experience.  In Christian circles, a common transcendental experience might be described as a "burning," as the influence of the Holy Ghost, or even as pure enlightenment and understanding from God.

There is absolutely no question that these kinds of experiences exist: they have been reported by so many people in so many different contexts that there is little room for doubt.  Recent neurological research also shows that these experiences are actually measurable - we can see things happening inside the brain while people have transcendental experiences (see my last couple blog posts for some references).

The question is not whether the experiences exist.  Rather, the question is what we can learn from them.  Generally speaking, a religion might take those feelings and attach doctrinal significance to them - ie. because I feel a certain way when I contemplate God, He must exist.  Because I feel overpowering emotions when I read the Koran, it must be teaching absolute truth.  Because I feel spiritual enlightenment when I hear someone speak, that person must be a divine messenger of sorts.

These kinds of conclusions involve a huge leap of faith and a lot of implicit assumptions - assumptions about how reliable the emotions are, about where they come from, and finally about what they mean.  Each belief system will make different assumptions and arrive at different conclusions based on them.  The simple fact is that on any rational basis, these requisite assumptions are completely unjustified.  They are, in a very real sense, arbitrary.

There isn't anything necessarily wrong with forming beliefs based on incomplete information and assumptions.  It is part of the human condition and we have to do it all the time.  I believe that, in general, active religious belief provides meaning, happiness, and purpose to life.  The effect on society and on individuals is positive.  But some people have a problem with forming life-altering beliefs about the universe using fallacious reasoning and emotions that are clearly suspect.  It is a matter of principle and honesty to some people.

That is where Spiritualism comes in.  There are many benefits to pursuing religion, but Spiritualism holds that those religious benefits can be obtained outside the context of traditional religion.  The life-changing transcendental experiences usually obtained through religious worship can be found in meditative and spiritual practices that are perfectly disassociated with religious doctrine.  In a sense, Spiritualism is religion distilled to remove the fallacious assumptions that so many find disagreeable.

That is what I mean when I say that Spiritualism concerns itself only with the existential analysis of transcendental experiences.  Spiritualism actively pursues the transcendental because of the inherent existential benefits of the pursuit.  But it refuses to move beyond reason.

Neurological Effects of Religion

While writing this post, I found myself having to list detailed definitions along with caveats and careful explanations: the concepts of religion and spirituality are complex and often ill-defined, so if you aren't careful, someone will raise their hand and say "well, what about this obscure point that you didn't address?!"  So over time the post evolved from a concise, clear description of interesting neurological facts to a meandering monstrosity. The need to keep the post short, clear, and interesting is at odds with the need to be procedurally complete.

I decided to err on the side of concise clarity.  If something rubs you the wrong way, we can hash it out in the comments later.

So lets jump right in.  In this post I will describe the neurological effects of religious worship.  Note that I am no expert.  Everything about specific neurological activity comes from the books How God Changes Your Brain by Newburg and Waldman, and Why God Won't Go Away by Newburg et. al.  Everything else is mine.

The neurological effects of worship can be summarized in one sentence: we become like what we worship¹, regardless of whether what we are worshiping is real or imagined.  For example, if we worship an angry, authoritarian, punitive God, we gain a proclivity for anger and we become less capable of being understanding and compassionate.  The amygdala - the part of the brain that produces fear and anger - is strengthened.  Interestingly, when we are angry it becomes physically impossible for us to think rationally.  On this topic, Newburg and Waldman wrote

"Anger interrupts the functioning of your frontal lobes. Not only do you lose the ability to be rational, you lose the awareness that you’re acting in an irrational way. When your frontal lobes shut down, it’s impossible to listen to the other person, let alone feel empathy or compassion. Instead, you are likely to feel self- justified and self- righteous, and when that happens the communication process falls apart. Anger also releases a cascade of neurochemicals that actually destroy those parts of the brain that control emotional reactivity."

It goes without saying that we should avoid worshiping "angry" Gods - the effects are clearly destructive.  In fact, I don't think that many people would admit to following this kind of God.  Rather, I think that people worship the authoritarian, punitive type of God without realizing what they are doing.  I'll talk more about this later, because worshiping the wrong kind of God - knowingly or unknowingly - is unhealthy and destructive.

In contrast, worshiping a compassionate, loving God actively strengthens the frontal lobe and the anterior cingulate.  The frontal lobe is the reasoning center of the brain, and the anterior cingulate is the area of the brain that allows us to suppress fear and feel empathy and compassion.  Worshiping a loving God actually rewires our neural circuits so that we don't respond with anger as quickly or easily.  It also makes us more physically capable of feeling empathy, compassion, and love for others.

To be clear, the "God" that you worship isn't necessarily the same God described by your religion.  Practically speaking, your God may be more accurately defined by what you allow yourself to focus on.  For example, if you tend to focus on the "wicked" state of the world and the impending judgment of God, then you probably worship an angry God.

More generally, your God may be described by the attitude that you generally espouse when you aren't thinking about God at all.  If you are consistently pessimistic, angry, or fearful, it has the same neurological effect as worshiping an angry, authoritarian God.  In contrast, if you actively work on being understanding, compassionate, and optimistic, it has the same neurological effect as contemplating a loving, compassionate God.

The idea that worship and regular daily activity are closely related forms much of the basis for what I called "Spiritual Atheism" in the title of my last post.  The idea suggests that at least some of the neurological benefits of religion can be obtained by consciously adjusting your attitude about life.  That is, perhaps you can get the benefits of religion without using the religion at all.

There are other benefits of religious practice that I haven't talked about - reduced fear of death, deep peace and comfort, powerfully tangible joy, and direction and meaning, not to mention the social benefits of interacting in a religious community.  In my next post, I will discuss why these other benefits can also be obtained outside the context of traditional religion.

1. When I say "worship," I am referring to specific, conscious activity centered around a God figure.  This activity could be religious ritual, deep contemplation, study of religious texts, or meditation.  In this post, I will make the case that worship and daily activity are not necessarily disjoint.  They are, I think, closely connected.  But when I use the "worship" by itself, I refer specifically to God-centered activities.

Spiritual Atheism

In this and the next few posts I am going to describe a brand of spiritualism that is compatible with many concepts of deity - from "no God" to the "unknowable God" to the highly personal God.  This idea is new to me, but I am not perfectly well-read in the philosophical and religious literature.  Chances are good that someone else thought of this hundreds of years ago.

I originally conceived of this idea while thinking about a common objection that people have about religion.  Many people see religious belief as unjustified because there is simply no evidence to support it - there is no quantifiable reason to believe.  For some, religion seems to be outdated, outmoded, unfounded, superstitious, untestable, overly emotional.

To put it another way, religion always seems centered around powerful personal emotion.  This emotion can, in fact, be so powerful that God can seem more real and literal than the words on this page or the chair you are sitting in¹. It is expected that if you are a devoted worshiper, you will begin to "know" that what you are worshiping really exists, irrespective of what that thing happens to be.  The following quote, from the book "How God Changes your Brain," illustrates this point:

"The thalamus [the part of your brain that is mainly responsible for perceiving/interpreting reality] makes no distinction between inner and outer realities, and thus any idea, if contemplated long enough, will take on a semblance of reality.  Your belief becomes neurologically real, and your brain will respond accordingly.  But for someone else, who has meditated on a different set of beliefs or goals, a different reality will seem true."

Don't misunderstand my purpose here - I am not trying to minimize the value of religious belief or invalidate anyone's faith.  Rather, I am pointing out an objection that many atheists and agnostics have about religion - specifically, that human beings will predictably believe in whatever religion they choose to immerse themselves in, whether it be Islam, Buddhism, Catholicism, Mormonism, or whatever.  But "believe" isn't strong enough a word, because eventually the belief will feel like certain knowledge.  More certain even than physical reality.  As a method for finding absolute truth, then, religion seems inadequate because the part of our brain that makes us think something is true doesn't actually care whether that thing is true or not.

It is probably an uncomfortable thing for many religious people to read this - please don't let it bother you.  As explained in The Varieties of Religious Experience by William James, the existential study of religion has no bearing on religion's value.  Just because we are neurologically wired to believe what we worship does not mean that we shouldn't choose to worship. 

In fact, studies that measure the neurological effect of religion show that worship is almost always incredibly healthy.  In my next post, I will describe how religion positively affects the mind.  Then, I will describe how all the positive neurological benefits of religion can be obtained in a way that avoids the atheistic/agnostic objection I described in this post.

1. This has been shown to be true through anecdotal descriptions by scores of religious individuals, and by a number of neurological studies. The book How God Changes Your Brain by Waldman and Newberg describes many of these studies.

So much for idealism

Last year about this time I started hunting around for companies that make injection molds (for those who don't know, an "injection mold" is something used to make plastic parts in high quantities).  One local company was particularly hospitable.  They invited me to their factory, showed me around the manufacturing floor, and introduced me to their lead engineer - all the while emphasizing the benefits of making local contracts instead of foreign ones.  "Face-to-face contact, better service, faster lead-times, security (no-one will steal your design here), safety, and perhaps above all, PATRIOTISM."

I found the same general message on their web-site, although it was much more direct.  They even had a page devoted specifically to documenting all the cases when Chinese manufacturing had gone bad - poisonous plastics on sandals, toxins in baby food, stolen designs and molds.  You name a China-oriented scandal, and they dutifully reported it.  I assumed that they were fighting to keep their business running in the face of cheap competition overseas.

Just last week (a year after my first contact with them) I called on them again to get a quote on a new design.  The picture this time was completely different.  There was no offer for a site visit, no communication with engineering staff, no aggressive self-promotion.  I specifically asked if I could talk to an engineer, but they reported that they no longer did mold design.  They outsource all their design work to - get this - China!  I guess their struggle to justify higher costs in the name of locality and patriotism failed.

I guess sometimes you just can't fight the tides of world-wide economic change.  You embrace them or you die.

Even "Scientists"

I stumbled upon an interesting article today.  Apparently scientists have found a planet which is potentially habitable because it is the right distance from its star for liquid water to exist.  The story itself is fascinating to me, but I couldn't help but notice the following quote from one of the scientists who made the discovery:

"Our findings offer a very compelling case for a potentially habitable planet," said Steven Vogt, professor of astronomy and astrophysics at UC Santa Cruz, in a statement released by NASA. "The fact that we were able to detect this planet so quickly and so nearby tells us that planets like this must be really common."

Ten points to the first person who can tell me what is wrong with that statement.

The Kindle

Last week I installed the "Kindle" app for my Droid and promptly downloaded 18 books.  They are just sitting there, on my phone, waiting for me to read them.  Sometimes I feel a wave of excitement when I realize that I have 18 books just sitting in my pocket, AND that I could download virtually any book in the world in a matter of minutes.  It feels like... like I felt as a little kid when I would remember suddenly that Christmas was right around the corner.

There is something satisfying about pulling out my phone and using it as a book.  On the other hand, there is also something satisfying about flipping through the pages of a real book.  I like to smell my books as I read them, bringing the pages close and fanning them so that the air blows over my face.  I revel in the smell of the paper, the ink, and the glue that holds everything together.  I'll never be able to get that out of my phone.

I will probably buy a real Kindle just because it is larger and the screen is designed to approximate a real book more closely.  But I don't suppose that electronic readers will ever replace all of my books.  There is too much of an emotional connection there.

Fashion

While sitting in the lobby of a dentist office today, I was intrigued by the appearance and conversation of two hygienists standing behind the front desk.  The two girls obviously lived in a completely different world than I did - I could tell just by looking at them.  Something about the way they carried themselves said that they were perpetually cognizant of their clothing, makeup, hair, and general appearance.  They tried hard enough that it was painfully obvious; they had a little too much makeup, fake tans, and carefully crafted hair.

I found their appearance a little distasteful (just a personal preference, I guess).  But if I didn't care for their looks, their conversation was even more repelling.  One of them held an issue of US Weekly magazine and, referencing a picture of a woman on the cover, said "what does that shirt look like to you?"

The girl glanced at the cover and said, "oh wow, that's, like, a Wal-Mart shirt!"  The other laughed.  "Yeah, can you believe it?!  How could she wear a WAL-MART shirt on the cover of US Weekly!"

Hearing the exchange, I thought to myself, "I can't believe you even care enough to know that it is a Wal-Mart shirt..."  I found myself feeling a little annoyed at them for caring so deeply about something that seems, to me, so absolutely frivolous.  Thinking more carefully, though, I realized that there isn't anything inherently wrong with caring about fashion.  I imagine there is a kind of art to it.  Keeping astride with the world of fashion is probably tricky and, for some, exciting.

I thought their fashion interests were frivolous mainly because fashion is irrelevant.  Fashions come and go, irrespective of the real issues that plague the world.  But it suddenly occurred to me that, while I am not interested in fashion, I am interested in a lot of things that are equally irrelevant.  My sitting down to play the piano isn't going to change the world.  Sure, I develop a talent, but deep down I don't think there is anything that makes a talent for music any more valuable than a talent for recognizing and even setting social trends.  The only difference lies in how those talents are perceived by the world.

I guess my point is that my gut reaction was to see those two hygienists as shallow and irrelevant.  But in this case, my gut reaction was based less on reason and more on my own social expectations.  Their interests were so far removed from my own that I made a knee-jerk judgment without really understanding them.  I wonder how often I do that.

Mormon Missions and Marriage

To understand this post, you need to comprehend a couple things about Mormon culture.  First, Mormons assign a very high value to Marriage.  To us, marriage is an eternal thing.  Once you are married on Earth by the proper authority, you and your spouse are sealed together forever, even after death.  Not only is marriage eternal, it is also necessary for exaltation - in the life to come, you can't obtain the highest degree of happiness without a spouse.  We therefore encourage young adults to not unnecessarily delay marriage.  It is, in a real way, the "next step" in your progression.  Because of this, Mormons often marry at younger ages than people in other cultures.

Second, Mormons are encouraged to serve ecclesiastical missions for the church.  Young men are almost expected to do so - they typically go for a full two years at the age of 19.  Young women, on the other hand, can choose to go if they want, but there is no real cultural expectation for them to do so.  Unlike young men, young women go at the age of 21.  I tend to think that guys go starting at an earlier age because it provides good training that keeps them out of trouble during those formative late-teen years.  I feel like women are usually more mature at that age and are less in need of a rigid mission life-structure to keep them out of trouble...  In any event, we serve missions because we feel it is important for everyone to understand the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Now, to the point.  It often happens in the strange world of Mormonism that young women who are dating seriously entertain the idea of going on a mission instead (or, more rarely, the young woman is willing to delay the mission to see if the relationship will pan out, but the guy involved thinks that the mission ought not be delayed).  From a Mormon theological perspective, this makes no sense!

While it is important to spread the gospel, marriage is generally considered a trump card.  Why?  Because marriage is eternally important and, contrary to some commonly-held perceptions, the Lord can do His work without the aid of one more sister missionary.  Of course, some will argue that "the field is white, already to harvest," and that there are souls waiting for the gospel, souls who "won't be reached if I don't serve."  In response, I point out that I spent 80% of my proselyting time in more or less fruitless cold-contacting.  If my own mission were really bursting with hungry souls, we wouldn't have been so actively engaged in searching for them and not finding them.  If someone is genuinely prepared to hear the gospel, there are slews of church members and cold-calling missionaries who have time enough to teach them as soon as the Lord steers them in the right direction.  Don't flatter yourself into thinking that there are people who you and only you can reach.

To be clear, no soul will rot in hell because you chose to get married instead of serving a mission.  On the other hand, you might stymie your own progression by insisting that there is a dire need for your help as a full-time missionary.  I'm sorry to break it to you, but... there isn't.  This is why virtually every Bishop or Stake President you talk to will encourage you to pursue the relationship.  Maybe you should take their advice.

Curse You, Verizon.

I spent over 45 minutes on the phone with Verizon customer "support" today.  The girl who took my call had a hard time understanding what I wanted her to do for me, and it took about 30 minutes for me to explain it to her.  Then it took her 15 minutes to decide she couldn't help me.

It was simple, really.  I have 50 "bonus" minutes on my account.  During the last billing cycle, I used about 50 minutes beyond my limit, so I thought "hey, I'll apply my extra minutes and save myself 25 bucks."  Simple enough, right?

Well, for some reason this girl couldn't figure it out.  By the time she told me it couldn't be done, I was absolutely convinced that she was incompetent.  So I didn't believe her.  I called back and talked to a different representative.  He was able to confirm her response and it only took him 2 minutes.

This has happened before, too.  Half the time I call Verizon I get incompetent, poorly trained reps who can't seem to answer my questions.  I think I've finally learned to hang up immediately when my moron detector goes off.  I should have done that today - it would have saved me 45 minutes of trouble.

Turns out I'm not the only one who has had problems with Verizon support.  One guy, for example, couldn't get Verizon's reps to understand the difference between dollars and cents.

I was almost convinced to switch carriers today - I would have if I weren't attached to a blood-sucking two year contract.  What is it with these guys?

Music and Cheese

I've been called a "music snob" before, and possibly for good reasons.  I don't feel like a "snob," though - I merely recognize music for what it is.  If it is shallow, banal, trite, and unoriginal, I tend to dislike it.  Sue me.  I do realize, though, that not all music was created for the same purpose.

Forgive the analogy, but I think music is a lot like cheese.  I am no connoisseur, but I understand that there are a wide variety of gourmet cheeses, and that the process of making them is nearly an art form - they are carefully cultured, handled and salted, aged and matured to produce unique tastes and textures.  Even the same types of cheese produced by different people can taste different - each maker might have a carefully cultivated signature.  There are hundreds and hundreds of gourmet and artisanal cheeses, and each one is unique.

And then there is cheese whiz.  Cheese whiz and other processed cheeses are designed to be cheap and consistent, suited for mass production.  It is... nasty stuff in comparison to "real" cheese, but it sells very well.  Sometimes people just want a cheap dairy product, and that is what cheese whiz is designed to be.  Someone well acquainted with the wide and dynamic world of gourmet cheeses might sniff in disdain at that unoriginal, characterless, artless, pasty yellow stuff.  Can you blame them?

Music is similar.  Some music is thoughtless stuff that sells well because people prefer shallowy music that doesn't make them think.  This is the cheese whiz of the music world.  Interestingly, cheese whiz music is often mistaken for the "real thing," not because it is deep or artistic, but because people lack the background to understand that they are listening to banality.  Its like the world is filled with people who have only really tasted cheese whiz and therefore think it is gourmet.

On the other hand, some music is genuinely art, studied by musicians for its originality and revered for its depth.  "Gourmet" music isn't arcane and boring.  In fact, a lot of the best music happens to be wildly popular.  But popularity is not an indicator of real music any more than it would be an indicator of real cheese.   There is good stuff, and then there is stuff designed to be mindlessly consumed.

I understand enough about music to know when it is good art, and I prefer to avoid music that isn't.  If this makes me a snob, then so be it!

"Wise" King Solomon

If someone suggested that you chop a baby in half, would you consider him wise?

Credentialing

I didn't know that the word "credential" was so commonly verbaged.

My bishop is a very successful lawyer.  He seems a good guy anyway.  I was talking to him last night and I mentioned that I had started my own business and was entertaining the idea of obtaining an MBA - starting a business has made it very clear how little I know about it, and I thought that an MBA might shore up some of my deficiencies.

My bishop was all for the idea, but not for the reasons you would expect.  He suggested that business school really wouldn't teach me anything, that in terms of knowledge gained, an MBA would be a waste of two years.  But he suggested I do it anyway, not for the knowledge, but for credentials.  Imagine that!

He obviously loved this idea of "credentialing," probably because it worked well for him.  As he perorated about the vast benefits of building up your portfolio for its own sake, I couldn't help but feel that he was missing the boat entirely.  He has this screwily common perception that success is measured in terms of wealth and prestige.  I'm sure he would disagree with that statement because I worded it in a disagreeable way, but his enthusiastic diatribe was quite revealing to me.

I wanted to argue the point with him, but I understood that the topic was deeper than our casual conversation warranted.  Besides, I didn't expect to convince a successful and wealthy lawyer that his world-view occupies so narrow a slice of the human experience.

What is "agency," anyway?

I've been trying to wrap my mind around agency.

I understand the standard Mormon theological definition - agency refers to our ability to make decisions that can either damn us or exalt us.  These decisions are naturally made from within the framework of our environment.  But if you trim away all the external circumstances, all the environmental influences, there is a little gem called "agency" that is supposedly the prime motivator of all human behavior.  Agency is what allows us to "act," and not be "acted upon."

Unfortunately, my little brain has a hard time comprehending what that actually means.  The engineer in me wonders what the mechanism is that causes us to exercise our agency in one way as opposed to another.  But if agency is really free will, uninfluenced by outside circumstance, then it has no "cause."  It just IS.  Agency can't be explained in terms of anything we know because doing so would reduce it to an effect.  The only way to define agency is therefore in terms of itself - agency is agency.  Period.

In a lot of ways, it seems like agency is Aristotle's "Prime Mover," the one thing that can't be explained in terms of anything else.  Every chain of cause and effect goes back and ultimately stops at agency.  Why is the sky blue?  Agency.  Why does the earth exist?  Agency.  Where does God come from?  Agency.

It seems like agency is this permanent, pre-existing, omnipresent force, even more permanent and eternal than God Himself.  Or maybe God IS agency.  Whatever.

Blog Parallels Life

I have a tendency to binge-write.  When I remember how much I like writing, I do it prolifically for a series of weeks.  Later, some other poorly-regulated passion will take its place, and I'll only sit down to write once or twice in a week.

I was thinking about starting another binge when I realized that my blog-writing behavior parallels many aspects of my life.  My binge right now is in sensor design - yesterday I started working on a new design early in the morning and continued almost non-stop until 2:00 AM the next morning.  I was quite oblivious to the passage of time.  Otherwise I might have been a little more responsible and stopped before midnight.

Another favorite binge is practicing jazz piano.  Usually I get around two hours of practice in a day, but sometimes I completely lose myself in it and spend as many as six hours a day - to the neglect of everything else I am supposed to be doing.

Last week, I binged on my research - one night, I came home at the reasonable hour of 8:00 PM, but I was so mentally engaged with the problem I was working on that I went back at 9:30 and worked until it was solved (about 1:00 AM).

In the past, I've binged on swing dancing (REAL swing dancing, not country swing), but its been a while since I got into that.

On the positive side, I tend to get good at the things I do because I can focus intensely on them for arbitrarily long periods of time.  On the other hand, it isn't at all conducive to forming long-term relationships.  Past girlfriends objected to my staying focusing so exclusively on things other than them.  For good reason, I suppose.

Things that Make Life Worth Living

Sometimes the most simple parts of life also happen to be the most satisfying.  Every once in a while I take a step back and try to see my life from a sort of detached perspective.  My "problems" then become irrelevant and even the most trivial details of life are interesting.  Today I thought I'd make a list of simple things that make my life great.  As I notice new things, I'll probably add to my list.

1. Watching the setting sun cast golden shadows over the Rocky Mountains
2. Walking through a sprinkler on a hot summer day
3. Playing a 1-7 3-5 Fmaj7 chord with an added 9th on the piano
4. Discovering new sounds and textures on the piano
5. Listening to jazz music
6. BOOM! Headshot.
7. Designing new sensors
8. Admiring a project after working hours to finish it
9. Hearing cars drive too fast through the dip in the intersection next to my house.  CRUNCH!
10. Watching bugs wander around the yard.  What are those little guys thinking?
11. Playing frisbee
12. Being busy with work
13. Learning new and exciting ways to apply mathematics to solve real-world problems
14. Writing
15. Fantasizing about flying
16. Reading the news and having a laugh at the expense of the politicians
17. Crawling into bed after a long day of work
18. Being self-employed
19. Seeing pretty women
20. Reading
21. Looking at the mountains
22. Interacting with friends and family
23. Playing with my Droid
24. Dreaming about building groups of robots that interact intelligently with the world
25. Deriving equations that elegantly describe the physical world
26. Speccing parts for sensor designs
27. Sitting at my bedroom desk with the windows open
28. Cleaning my bedroom
29. Organizing
30. Doing financial planning
31. Speculating about unsolved problems in politics, religion, and science
32. Trying to make sense of the world
33. Flying RC airplanes and helicopters
34. Bragging about my family
35. Sneakily bragging about myself
36. Cooking and eating food
37. Being young
38. Watching new films at the theater 

What simple parts of life do YOU like?

Shelves

I consider myself a clean and organized person.  Lately, though, my bedroom has been a disaster.  I've had such an abundance of stuff crammed into so small a space that my best efforts to keep things looking nice have failed.  Miserably.  You try to cram a business office and a lab into your bedroom!  Let me know if you have better luck.

I finally decided to do something about the problem and asked my landlord if I could install some shelves.  He was hesitant, and probably for good reasons, but I assured him that I would "make them look good," and that if he didn't like them, I could remove them and repair the walls before I move out.  He gave me the green light and so I got started.

I bought shelf brackets, wood, and stain from Home Depot (coming to about $140 total), and made a day of it.  I hadn't made shelves before, so I was a little nervous about making a mistake, but it turned out to be a simple project.  I installed three shelves above my computer desk (my "office"), and I installed three larger shelves above my lab table.

Now that they are finished, I can move the mile-high stack of books off of my dresser, I can organize my tools, and I can stop storing shipping supplies on my bed.  Woohoo!

Air

to us it doesn't
exist
but when it tips birds wings they
fly higher.
We don't notice. We don't
pay attention

The Dating Cycle

Dating sucks away my rationality.  For some reason (hah), women break down all my intellectual barriers and turn my mind into a jumbled mess.  Usually I can tell when I am being unduly influenced by emotions, but I don't have enough mastery of myself to turn the emotions off altogether (if you can do this you might be a psychopath).  So, even though I can avoid acting stupidly most of the time, I experience a roller-coaster ride every time I date someone.

This roller-coaster more or less follows the same pattern every time, and as far as I can tell, other people ride on the same tracks.  In this post I thought I'd describe various phases of dating.  Standard disclaimers apply.  I'm no expert.  I can only describe what I see in myself and in others.  These phases may not be equally well applied to men and women - I have no idea what happens in the minds of women... Also, real-world relationships are complicated and defy simplification into one simple model.  So, what I've written below won't always be true.  But I think the pattern matches many real relationships.

Phase 1 - Helloooooo

 It's not what you think, I swear!  Not entirely, at least.  In the first phase, something about the person captures your interest.  What that "something" is could vary from individual to individual.  Maybe you like to date people who are smoking hot.  Maybe you like deep, introspective types.  Or maybe you only like people who are attractive, deep, introspective, athletic, intelligent, hard-working, socially well-adjusted, and otherwise perfect in every way.

Whatever the case, you've found someone who resonates with you at some level, and you are now interested (for better or worse).  At this point, your knowledge of the individual is necessarily superficial.  Let's face it, there is no such thing as "love at first sight."  There is only "obsessive, unhealthy infatuation at first sight."

Phase 2 - Uncertainty and Self-Promotion

This is where the games are played.  Whether you like to think so or not, almost everyone plays games to some extent.  Complete frankness would be... counter-productive.  You can't generally walk up to your new interest and say, "Hey, I'm interested in starting a casual relationship that might proceed to something more serious and maybe even eventually marriage.  Are you game?"  (I suppose this happens at BYU more often than at other places in the world...)

The "game" is what you use to test the waters, as it were.  You smile a lot when she's around because it makes you seem good-natured and attractive.  You put on a bit of a show.  Pay attention, it happens all the time - guys act very differently around girls who they want to please.  It's analogous to roosters strutting around the yard, rams butting heads, and peacocks showing their feathers.  Real dating connoisseurs excel during this phase - there are all kinds of strategies to engender the interest of the opposite sex.  Not that I would know anything about that...

In general, you'll look for excuses to "be seen," you'll hang out and go on dates.  Then, if everything works out well, you'll start dating exclusively.  Woot.

Phase 3 - Euphoria

As you transition from Phase 2 to Phase 3, it becomes clear that your interest is reciprocated.  Your uncertainty gradually gives way to a biologically-driven euphoria.  Twitterpation.  Your partner can do no wrong.  She is perfect and this is heaven!  You might not think this consciously, but the subconscious mind is rejoicing constantly.  This is the Phase that all the popular songs speak of when they speak of "love."  You can't stand to be away from your partner.  You might even entertain thoughts of marriage - somehow it seems like a good idea.

Here is a telling example of how people behave during the euphoric stage.  In "BYU-approved" housing, you can't have members of the opposite sex in your apartment after midnight.  I used to live in an apartment complex where all the apartment doors faced a central, inner courtyard.  It was easy to see the comings and goings of apartment residents.  Every night at around midnight, apartment doors would open and couples would emerge - not to say goodnight, but to gaze into each-other's eyes for another few hours.

The euphoric stage is a lot of fun.  A lot of fun for the couple, but not necessarily for their roommates.

Phase 4 - Rudely Awakened

According to some "experts," the euphoric stage can apparently last for as long as two years!  In my own experience, it usually lasts for maybe three to six months.  Then the dream-land disappears altogether.  In Phase 4, one or both parties start to notice eccentricities in their partner.  Personalities no longer seem to mesh perfectly, and it is no longer clear that the relationship is "right."

Unfortunately, this phase is unavoidable.  I think that one of the biggest reasons for it is that men and women think and act differently.  There are endless pages of jokes about the differences between men and women, jokes that are only funny because they are so... true.

When the euphoria disappears, all the fairytale ideas about true love and happily-ever-after endings disappear as well.  It can be a rude awakening.  Sometimes the relationship ends here.  Sometimes it staggers along.  Ideally, though, both parties understand that the end of the euphoria is a natural event.  That leads to the next phase.

Phase 5 - Talking, Working, Talking, Working

Everyone knows that "relationships take work," but not everyone knows what that actually means.  Not everyone knows how much work it really is.  Forming a successful relationship is no passive endeavor.  If you aren't prepared to invest significant time and effort into a relationship, you aren't ready to be in one.

The specific "work" involves learning to communicate, working to meet the needs of your partner, interacting reasonably when you are tired or in a bad mood, learning to forgive human errors, learning to overlook the bad and see the good.  In a very real way, the "work" is in changing our naturally selfish natures.

While this phase is one of the more difficult ones, it is also one the most productive.  While in the euphoric stage, emotions easily interfere with our decision-making.  Our emotions tend to skew our view of our partner (in their favor, usually).  With the euphoria gone, however, the true personality of each individual comes out.  There is no more strutting, there are no more shows.  Just real unvarnished character.  In this phase, you really get to know your partner.

Sure, it takes work.  But if you really think about it, this phase is where the real discovery takes place.  It should be exciting!

Phase 6 - Adieu or I Do

Unfortunately, there is no simple measurement that says how much effort is reasonable and how much is over the top.  At what point do you decide that the relationship is just a poor match?  At what point do you decide that the work you've invested is the norm?  If only there were an easy answer to this question!

The core issue is to decide whether the person you are dating would make a good life partner.  Are your goals compatible?  Your lifestyles?  Are you able to communicate well?  Are you both capable of fully committing to make the relationship work?

Barring the possibility of dating indefinitely in a kind of stagnating limbo, eventually we have to decide whether to go for it, or whether to call it a failed experiment.

Conclusion

So, that's it... My six-phase, oversimplified dating model.  I have to confess that most of my relationships have ended with the euphoria.  Some progressed to the "talking, working" phase, but none have ended the final phase with an "I do."

Doing Business in China

It's amazing, really.  I can sit in my bedroom, run a search on Alibaba or GlobalSources, and get into contact with companies on the other side of the world.  Even as a college student running a business out of my bedroom, I have access to the same global companies that major corporations have access to.  I can easily find a company that produces the exact items that I need (IR band-pass filters and lenses, in this case...), order them, and have them at my house inside of a week.  The world has definitely changed.

The biggest downside is that their day begins when mine ends, so that if I want to get anything done quickly I have to stay up late.  Like tonight.

God in a Realm Outside our Experience

While I was having a conversation with a friend today, an interesting idea occurred to me.  I'm not sure why I hadn't thought about it before.

If we say that God created the natural laws, which were then capable of building our universe without His interference, then we move Him out of the sphere we traditionally place Him in.  We usually say "God created the heavens and the Earth," not "God created the natural laws, which created the heavens and the Earth."  I know that the Bible says nothing about natural laws specifically, but I can't imagine that the ancient prophets knew enough about physics to comprehend them anyway.

I always assumed that the laws of physics were somehow eternal, and that God simply harnessed them and used them to organize things.  But if the laws of physics were created, then the truly eternal laws could be completely outside our realm of experience.  Maybe God doesn't dwell in a universe governed by gravity, inertia, time, matter, and energy as we know them.

I've heard people say that there must be a way to communicate instantaneously across long distance, because "God can hear our prayers."  I've heard people say that instantaneous travel must also be possible for similar reasons.  But maybe these things are not actually possible within the framework of the universe-governing laws that we know.  Maybe they are only possible in a universe where distance and time have no meaning at all.  Maybe God pops in and out of our universe wherever he wants without actually physically traveling any distance at all.

Idle speculation, all of it.  But it's fun to think about.

Worlds Within Worlds

I don't own a car, so I walk almost everywhere I go.  It isn't too big a deal because my stomping grounds consist of a tiny circle around campus.  One negative side-effect, though, is that I've developed an irrational hatred for motorists (unless I happen to be driving, of course).  I can't count the number of times I've waited on the edge of a crosswalk, not daring to put my life in the hands of... that guy who just drove by texting with his cell phone.  I have the right-of-way!  Stop so I can cross!  Sometimes I want to stand on the edge of the crosswalk and throw rocks.

Anyway, today I was waiting at a crosswalk on a particularly busy street (900 E in Provo, if you care to know).  I made it obvious that I wanted to cross, and then stood there and seethed as car after car obliviously drove by leaving trails of exhaust for me to enjoy while I waited.  After an eternity (a couple minutes, probably) everything started to bother me.  The dirty asphalt.  The drab curbs and gutters.  The endless traffic noise.  The exhaust fumes.  The longer I waiting, the more aggravated I became.

Now, I would never really do anything irresponsible or dangerous, but... for some reason I found myself  looking around for a handy little rock.  I didn't find one.  Instead, I was distracted by something much more interesting.  Ants.  There was a line of them crossing the sidewalk right at my feet.  As is probably obvious to anyone who reads this blog, I am fascinated by those little critters.  So when I saw them, I immediately forgot about crossing the road.  I stepped away from the road edge, bent down, and started to watch.

It was like they were constructing a little underground empire.  They'd emerge from a little hole in the ground next to the sidewalk carrying little pebbles and sticks, while at the same time other ants would make their way inside with pieces of foliage or little pieces of food dropped by oblivious passers-by.  They all worked so hard.  Did they even know what they were doing?  What was inside that tunnel?  Where were they getting that stuff they kept bringing inside?

I followed a line of ants leading away from their colony across the sidewalk, around a bend, and then right along the edge of a deep gutter.  Looking in, I noticed that an enterprising spider had built an intricate web right underneath the edge.  As hordes of ants passed by above, one or two would inevitably slip over the edge during the day and the spider would have a nice meal.  Was that little spider just lucky in her placement of her web?  Or did she somehow know that ants would be marching above her new lair?  I watched with mixed interest and horror as an unfortunate ant wandered a little too close to the edge, slipped, and fell to its doom.  As it scrambled to escape, the spider quickly approached and then unceremoniously ended the ant's life.  I wondered if ants were capable of feeling fear or pain.

Finished with the gutter, I looked up again to follow the line of ants and quickly discovered where they were all going - there on the edge of the sidewalk were the remains of an ice cream cone.  For a human it would have amounted to less than one bite, but to the ants it must have been a treasure trove.  I found it ironic that the person who dropped the ice cream cone must have been completely oblivious about it.  When that tiny morsel of food fell out of human interest and onto the ground, it transformed the world for those little ants.  And it transformed the world for the spider.

Observing this hidden little world also transformed my own perspective.  There, next to a busy street in Provo, I had discovered a miniature eco-system, a whole world of underground tunnels, empire-building ants, and cunning spiders.  How ironic that I would have been completely oblivious to all of this had I been able to cross the street immediately.  I looked back up at the traffic and suddenly my plight really didn't matter anymore.  Our petty inconveniences seem all-important until we realize that there are other worlds besides our own.

Quick to Characterize

If only we were omniscient.

As humans, it is our unfortunate lot to make decisions and judgments based on hopelessly incomplete information. This applies to almost every aspect of life. We form impressions about people who we don't really know, we develop political ideas without a full understanding of how our economic and political systems work, and we hold to moral models without really knowing how they might affect society at large.

People will disagree with what I just said. They'll say, "You are wrong, I think I understand how our economy works pretty well." Inevitably, these are laymen whose economic experience amounts to a couple college classes and a big dose of either naivete or arrogance. Sure, there are basics that come readily. But how closely do you think a linear supply and demand curve really approximates reality?

The fact is that we can't comprehend the millions of factors that affect economic growth. We can't access the information, and even if we could, we couldn't retain it. Similarly, we can't perceive all the inner motivations that compel people to do what they do.

So, out of sheer necessity we simplify. We develop models, approximations of reality that make comprehension and decision-making easier on us. It's like we are looking at the world through a lens that distorts everything. There isn't anything inherently wrong with this. The problem comes when we forget (or never even realize) that we are seeing the world through a lens that may or may not be giving us a correct picture. We forget to recognize our own fallibility, and then our ability to improve our understanding of the world decreases.

This behavior is often displayed when we assign labels to people. I have acquaintances and family members who do this very often. I hear them say things like, "Illegal immigrants are criminals," "Liberals are socialists," "so-and-so is a dumb-ass," "Muslims are terrorists," etc. Or I'll hear people categorize whole groups of people with dismissive statements: "tree-huggers," "environmentalist wackos," "bleeding hearts," "whores," etc. The list is endless. I am sure that I am often guilty of making similar statements.

This kind of blatant mis-characterization is inconsistent with the Christian religion, it is inconsistent with the scientific method, and it is damaging to society. If we really want to understand each-other, we should start by discarding our labels and admitting that we are fallible.

The Reason I Believe in God

A distributed controls problem is one where a number of independent agents (say, robots) need to cooperatively solve a problem. Communication is typically limited, so each robot must make decisions on its own using incomplete and potentially imperfect information. The rule that governs how these decisions are made is called a distributed control law. In distributed controls, we try to develop control laws that guarantee that the overall system behaves like we want it to, even when there is uncertainty about the environment.

Think of ants as an example - they all operate more or less independently, and while they can communicate, there is not a strong enough communication channel for all the information about the growing colony to be transmitted to each ant. Thus, the ants have incomplete information. There is some kind of biological control law running on each ant that "tells" it what to do - pick up this pebble and move it outside. Attack this intruder. Etc. The control law that guides ants is incredibly sophisticated in comparison to anything we've been able to duplicate. The fact that ants are able to produce a colony with such limited communication and with so little "brain power" is absolutely fascinating.

We would like to build distributed systems to accomplish complex tasks, but it is very difficult. Engineers and scientists haven't even come close to producing systems as sophisticated as ant colonies - we get excited when we make ground robots drive around in formation or share information in a useful way. We have a long way to go before we can build armies of independent robots that can build buildings or fight battles. The tools needed to analyze and design complex distributed control systems simply haven't been discovered yet.

I like to think of the universe as one big distributed controls problem. Suppose we were to start from scratch and design a simulation governed by scores of tiny, independent control laws (ie. laws of physics). As a requirement, all the individual control laws must be designed so that when they are combined, stable structures emerge and evolve. Over time, these "stable structures" must become increasingly complex. Some of these structures must develop the capacity to reason, to design experiments and explore the nature of the "universe" that we created for them. Essentially, we would be designing the laws to govern a new universe, laws that would allow the same kind of complexity that exists in our own universe.

The problem is incomprehensibly difficult. Seemingly impossible, even. The thousands of individual laws must be developed just right, so that when they begin interacting everything works out like it should. Any slight deviation by any single law could destroy the stability of the entire system. The new universe would have to be a masterpiece of engineering and mathematics, a giant machine so complicated and intricate that no human being could fully comprehend it.

The miraculous, awe-inspiring, humbling reality is that our own universe is such a machine. The natural laws happen to combine just right, and because they do, we can exist. We exist because there is an incomprehensibly complex machine that allows us to exist. We are the emergent complexity.

Now, to the heart of the matter. Where did the wonderful, ordered laws of the universe come from? There is no clear answer to this question. It is possible that they always existed in their present form, that the natural laws are simply reality. It is possible that they had no beginning, that they just are. This is at least as reasonable as believing that a higher intelligence created them. After all, a preexisting God with enough intelligence to create our universe must certainly be more complex than the universe itself. If it is hard to comprehend how the order in our universe always existed, it should be equally hard to comprehend the existence of a God capable of creating it.

Nevertheless, I am still inclined to believe in a God. Something inside me, biological, spiritual, or whatever, pushes me in that direction. For some reason, it is easier for me to imagine the preexistence of a complex being who created the laws than to imagine the preexistence of complex laws. My reasons don't make strict logical sense, they don't prove anything. But they do provide a way to express my awe, wonder, and reverence toward the universe.

The real irony is that I believe in God not because a complex universe exists. I believe in God because laws exist that allow the universe to exist without a God!

Mindlessly Complex Ants

Yet another post stemming from my earlier thoughts on Emergent Complexity and Complexity and Creation.

As discussed, the basic idea is that simple rules can combine to produce complex things. These complicated objects might look like they were designed by some grand intelligence, but in reality no single entity needs to understand what is being produced.

I think that ants provide a great example of how this happens in the real world. Some time ago I visited an exhibit at the Smithsonian that was dedicated specifically to ants. In the exhibit, there was an aluminum cast of a Harvester Ant colony that was made by a professor at Florida State University (apparently he dumped molten aluminum into the ant-hill, waited for it to cool, and then exhumed the model).

I was fascinated by the model. It stood over six feet tall and was comprised of three main tunnels that branched off from the opening above ground. Each tunnel wound in a consistent spiral down into the ground, with rooms attached most regularly at the top and more sparsely as the tunnels progressed deeper underground. The colony design was intricate, as if it were designed by ant engineers, laid out by surveyor ants, and built by contractor ants who supervised the workers.

Of course, we know that there is no such thing as an "engineer ant." In fact, I think that it is safe to say that no single ant had the capability to comprehend the whole of the colony. No ant decided to put a certain tunnel here, another there. No ant made an executive decision about where the individual rooms should be. The ants probably never knew that they were even building a colony at all - they simply executed a complicated script and the result was a functioning colony.

The tie-in to emergent complexity is that no single ant understood fully what was happening (if at all), but they were able to produce a complex, functional colony anyway. The simple rules, or laws, are the ants themselves - uncomprehending, unintelligent. They individually act out a script, and when they all come together they are able to build an impressively complex and ordered structure. No omniscient queen ant required.

Complexity and Creation

This post is an extension of my previous comments on Emergent Complexity. In the aforementioned post, I talked about how sets of simple laws (or rules) can be combined to produce complex things. One of the implications of Emergent Complexity is that complexity itself does not necessarily suggest the existence of a designer - no single entity has to have a complete model of the object being produced in order for the object to exist. Individual laws and rules can produce amazing things without "knowing" anything about what they are doing.

For example, in Conway's Game of Life, collections of cells can form complex objects like gliders and pulsars. While these objects look like they were designed by someone or something, they really weren't. No entity inside the simulation knows that a glider was produced. No cell knows that it is part of a glider. It just happens that the rules of the simulation combine in a fashion that makes gliders and pulsars stable objects.

The real-world analog is that the existence of, say, a tree, does not necessarily suggest that the tree must have been designed by something intelligent. Like a glider in the Game of Life, a tree is a stable structure whose existence is made possible by the combination of a set of comparatively simple rules.

There is a common argument favoring Creationism that says that if something is complex, there must have been a designer. We stumble into a tree and say, "this tree is complex and ordered. It is hard to conceive that it is an 'accident'. It must have been designed. There must therefore be a God." The concept of emergent complexity demonstrates that there is a plausible alternative explanation. As marvelous and mind-boggling as it is, there needn't be a designer.

Let me clarify that I am not attacking Creationism itself. I only attack the arguments in its favor that simply don't hold water. My own religious views will surface in later posts, I'm sure.

Emergent Complexity

Don't be scared away by the title - the idea of "emergent complexity" isn't itself complex. It is (to me) one of the most fascinating and awe-inspiring properties of our universe. The idea is that sets of small, simple rules can be combined to produce complex, intricate things. The complexity is called "emergent" because it isn't clear how the individual rules, simple and straightforward as they are, can produce things that are so complex. It is almost magical.


The idea is illustrated well by John Conway's Game of Life. The Game of Life isn't a game at all, but a simulation. In it, the world is represented by a two-dimensional grid of cells that are either "alive" or "dead" at any particular instant in time. At each iteration of the simulation, cells can be "born," they can "die," or remain in their current state (alive or dead). What they do at each iteration is based only on four simple rules (see the above link if you want to know what they are).

What makes the Game of Life interesting is that even though the rules are very simple, complex structures emerge when the simulation runs. Some configurations of cells evolve and at length disappear. Others settle on stable shapes like circles or pulsating masses. Still others travel across the screen like "gliders." It looks as if there is some kind of omniscient programming that is trying to bring order to the system. The truth, though, is that the individual rules operate independently and rather stupidly (if you will). It just happens that when they are combined, stable, complex structures happen to emerge. There is something deep and as yet undiscovered about how and why this happens.

At first glance, Conway's Game of Life might seem like irrelevant academic gas, but the philosophical and scientific ramifications are, I think, earth-shattering. The Game of Life demonstrates that ordered, complex things can emerge from unordered, simple things. It shows why evolution is reasonable, and it shows why the universe can continue to exist as we see it today.

In a sense, the universe is like a giant Game of Life. It is like the Game of Life with its four simple rules replaced by hundreds of thousands of more sophisticated ones. The stable structures that emerge in this giant Game of Life are... us, and everything around us. In a very real sense, everything we are and everything we know is the product of many simple rules operating mindlessly in the background.

This post is overlong. There are some specific examples I would like to explore that are absolutely fascinating, but they will have to wait for a future post.

A Beginning and an End

Everything in our mortal experience has a beginning and an end. Our mortal life begins at birth and ends at death, a day begins with the rise of the sun and ends with its setting, nations are born in history and inevitably die. Since everything we know and understand is finite, it is hard to comprehend something that is infinite, something that has always been and ever will be. God, matter, energy, universe-governing laws. Will we ever understand any of these things perfectly?

Tunnel Vision

I think that human beings are naturally self-oriented, not necessarily because we are "evil," but because we aren't equipped to perceive the world through eyes other than our own. All of our senses are personal by their very nature, and it is only through extra imagination that we can guess what other people might be thinking and feeling.

I have to confess that as I interact with other people, they are never as real to me as I am to myself. The logical, conscious part of myself naturally recognizes that they are as "real" as I am (if I stop to think about it), but I don't think that it registers on a subconscious level. My thoughts and emotions will always be more real than theirs because I can't feel what they are feeling. On the other hand, my dreams, my secret insecurities, and my physical senses are an omnipresent reality whether I choose to think about them or not.

It is only natural, then, that how I perceive people is often based on how I think they perceive me. I like them if they seem to like me. I gravitate toward people who make me feel comfortable. I look up to people that have characteristics that I would like to see in myself.

All these people who I choose to "like" aren't necessarily more deserving of my respect and attention than other people. My regard for them is based largely on my regard for myself. I suspect that this is common - I like to think that I am as human as the next guy.

Writing

Sometimes I just want to write. I'm not sure why, but something about the process feels meaningful and satisfying to me. Perhaps writing satisfies in inborn desire to create, or maybe seeing a finished essay compliments my vanity. Whatever the case, I enjoy writing enough that it has become a favorite evening activity. I'll sit down at night, fire up iTunes with some light jazz, and write.

The subject-matter is less relevant than the process itself. I could feel satisfied writing about just about anything - the rubber band sitting on my desk, the damned pen that just stopped working, the color of the trees... it doesn't matter. It is fortunate for me that I enjoy writing regardless of the content, because I don't expect that I produce anything truly original or even interesting. It is hard to have a unique thought.

I have no illusions about the quality or depth of my writing. The object of this blog is not to amaze people or revolutionize human thought, but simply to provide a structured outlet for my habit.

The blog title might change. I started with "The Human Condition," because I often find myself writing about people and speculating about why they do what they do. Maybe as I continue to write, a more descriptive title will be in order.