How Do I Know What I “Know?”

Have you ever played “Telephone?” Of course you have. A bunch of people sit in a circle and the one designated to be first whispers something into the ear of the second. The words are passed on in a similar fashion around the circle and then the result, as recalled by the last, is compared to the original. The differences between the two make for good laughs.

It sounds silly, but that's the way we learn. Or at least the primary way that we learn “facts.” The history books, for example, convey events as learned or remembered and passed on from one generation to another until they get written down in books which are later revised. Even if we assume that the original version of events was true – and it's a dubious assumption (Churchill wrote what many have said in on form or another: “History is written by the victors.”) – it's unlikely that the story which ultimately appears in our books reflects what actually happened.

And there are other problems. Those who write things down usually have an agenda. So they choose to understand what they have learned within the context of that agenda or ideology. Two scientists may interpret particular observations in totally different ways, and the “facts” are the views of the one better publicized. Or, as with Galileo, the “truth” may be subject to the views and agendas of those lacking any expertise in the field being discussed.

What do we know? There are a few ways we learn those things. And all have problems. Even our own observations are subject to misunderstanding and misinterpretation. We've all had the experience of witnessing something far off and recognizing what it is only to find that it is something entirely different when we get closer. And we're also subject to misunderstanding if we lack knowledge of the issue apart from what we experience. What we “know” may not be true.

There are other ways we know but I want to emphasize only one of them. The one that causes me the most discomfort is that we learn and we know what others tell us is the truth. In a way it makes sense, but the obvious problems make belief of others tell us is that may not yield factual information. What we're told by friends – whether on the street, in our homes, at a cocktail party or wherever – may be unsupported opinion, fantasy, or rumor, and lacking veracity. Yet once we have heard it, it's hard to totally forget it. A judge may instruct a jury to disregard something they have heard, but in all likelihood they won't. It may be the opinion of someone we know, or the pronouncement of a major news service. It may be an intended (to fit an agenda) or unintended misstatement. It may be what some call “fake news” or a premature assessment of actual events.

We know what we hear, whether or not it is true. We know what we learn from our parents, political opinions, habits, hygiene, nutrition, “right” and “wrong,” and all the traits that they think will help us in life. And they're usually helpful. Some were learned from their own parents; some are folk facts and remedies, and some are generally accepted truths. (It's interesting that widely separated societies, lacking contact with each other, often have the same truths and “ground rules.” Instinct, intuition? That's for another discussion.)

We know what we learn from religious leaders. What we learn – what we “know” – is ideologically based. Our clergy have an agenda, and their views of the “truth” are often contradictory. But in the right setting and coming from the right authority what we hear will always be remembered as something we know to be true.

The most significant influences, however, and sometimes the worst offenders, are our teachers. They pass on what they have heard from others, flavored by their own agendas and suited to their audiences. So early elementary school students will learn that George Washington threw a silver dollar across the Potomac River and he never told a lie. Later they'll learn how silly some of the legends are that they learned when young, but they'll never forget them. Later in school they'll be fed oversimplified ideas because that's all they're prepared to understand. And even later they'll be informed of the real stories and the accepted views according to the agendas of their instructors.

That's not to suggest that much of what they learn may not be true – whatever that means – but a lot of it is based on the views of the instructors, who choose the texts to suit their own views and make clear that their ideas are the ones to be remembered – at least if you want to do well on their examinations.

As suggested above (the previous paragraph if you've already forgotten), the choice of textbooks is an important issue, especially in lower grades. Because children will remember all their lives what they read in the books had in elementary and secondary school it's important to choose them carefully. Disputes among parents and teachers about the lessons they want their children to learn – historically, religiously, and politically for example – have affected what publishers put in their books and how they slant it. They're indoctrinating children to “know” the “right” things and, if they want to sell books, the message has to be the one desired.

In the end, however, we can turn to experts on the science of knowledge, to help us know what we know. Of course they learned from what their own teachers said, and sprinkled in their own agendas. So we have to be just as suspicious of their thoughts. They're human just like us and they only know what they “know.”

August 27. 2017

What I Think/Know/Believe

[Note: I'll use footnotes today because some of what I have to say will be better if it doesn't interrupt the rest of the text, which may be somewhat longer than usual.]

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I don't know everything. It hurts me to say so, but it's the truth.ⁱ No one does. It used to be easier – when there was less to knowⁱⁱ

Despite their exalted role in role in democratic theory, reporters were scarcely better than average citizens at mastering the torrent of information in the modern world.ⁱⁱⁱ

So what you “know” is what other people think – or at least what they tell you – what they want you to think. That is their “truth.”^iv And that's why I'm suspicious of “knowledge.” My view is the equal of theirs. And it's hard to know from the media what is fact and what is “alternative fact.”

According to Winston Churchill,^v

History is written by the victors.

So we can't even trust what the experts tell us is the past. And from time to time anthropologists and archaeologists also change their opinions. Ideally the new views are more accurate than the old, but who “knows?”

One can't prove that God doesn't exist, but science makes God unnecessary.

Stephen Hawking speaks for science when he tells us^vi that the universe could have arisen spontaneously based on the laws of physics. And he has the formulas and the data to prove it. But it is less clear what the origin of those laws of physics is. So it is uncertain if all his formulas prove what he says. Copernicus considered the sun the center of the universe. Einstein exposed Newton's error in gravitational theory. Science makes mistakes. Today's established science is what scientists tell us it is, although later it may be disproven or changed.

And that brings me to the actual subject of this note – “knowledge” and belief. When I was brought up there wasn't much talk in my family about religion. My religious training consisted of a few hours a week, divided into too many sections to make a real understanding of any of them likely. I'll get to that. However it's the basis of ideas of belief and knowledge.

All I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten.^vii It's a bit of an oversimplification, however it was a bestseller. Most of what I really need to know I learned from my “training wheels” – my parents – who gave me the gift of language and my earliest instruction in how to think. It was a gift that perhaps I have repaid by passing it on to my children. Childhood learning never leaves us.

There was one vital lesson, however, that I learned in my childhood from a science teacher. I'm not sure which one, but the good teacher presented me with a bit of wisdom that has always been with me. It's not deep. At least on it's surface. Yet it's the basis for all I know [sic – no quotation marks] about life. The lesson was that everything comes from something. It's an explanation of the aphorism “There's no such thing as a free lunch.”

The lesson – everything comes from something – is obvious. Nothing you didn't know already. Yet it is, in a way, the pillar on which the world stands. It was one of the original foundations of philosophy. Where did we come from? We're still arguing about it today because we don't know. The question formed the basis for most religions as well. Where did we come from? Evolution^viii is a fine concept but it's only the description of a tool, not of the craftsman.

For those who believe in what Hawking says, we came about spontaneously as a result of the random formation of the universe, the ultimate development of our solar system,^ix and evolution. I say “believe” because no one was around at the time of Creation to attest to what happened. What they consider to have been proved may have various formulas and equations to back it up, but no first-hand evidence.^x

“Proved.” What constitutes proof? For many, the equations of those we consider smarter than ourselves is all it takes. For others it is what is observable and verifiable.^xi For still others it is the appearance of the idea in a holy book. Many consider the last option mentioned as “superstition,” and based on “belief” rather than “knowledge.” But even those words are imprecise, because, as was mentioned, “knowledge” is sometimes incorrect and in need of correction, and “belief” is usually said to be confined to the acceptance of religious doctrines. But perhaps these ideas should be examined.

What do we know? Nothing really. We accept what we are told. We've learned from our parents and teachers, and their words were long ago accepted as truths that we don't question. We even judge future teachings on the basis of what they've taught us. Moreover the greatest of scientists, those who “stand on the shoulders” of predecessors, are relying on what their antecedents have said. And it may be wrong or incomplete. But it's the benchmark by which they judge everything else. How reliable is that? And how are the results of such teachings to be evaluated? Even when what an equation predicts is found to be reproducible, it isn't always clear if this is because it describes a tool and not what we know and understand to be a creative principle.

In a way, “belief” is the same. We accept what we are told because our teachers assert that it is the word of G-d. What is written, however, was written by humans and is subject to error or dispute. Yet belief is often accepted as settled knowledge and not to be contradicted.^xii They have been told something and they consider it fact. They believe they were “told” by G-d, and the words are more than belief – they constitute knowledge. And they expect the same belief of us.

To evaluate such a view it is important that we return to an earlier question: can you get something from nothing? And, as I mentioned, that also raises theological issues, for example, is there a G-d? It's hard to argue with the idea that belief and knowledge, as well as the concepts of proof, knowledge and, for that matter, right and wrong, are inextricably related to that question. And, having been taught while I was young that you can't get something from nothing, I'm inclined toward a Divine origin of the universe and life. When I consider Hawking's arguments, the first thoughts I have are questions: where did the laws of physics come from? Did they precede the origin the universe? Who decreed them? After all, you can't get something from nothing.

But Hawking apparently believes they were just there. Eternal truths? Are they the Divine creators? Even if that is the case, there is some unexplainable force that is necessary to account for creation. In this case it would be laws, but most people call that force “G-d,” although the name is not the point. More important is the concept. And even more important is the idea that what we “know” is really what we believe.

If the same question were asked of me – specifically where did G-d come from – the only answer I could give is that I don't know. I wasn't around at that time.^xiii The response to unanswered scientific inquiries is “I don't know yet,” with the implication that humans will some day be able to answer all questions. I don't believe that will be true of our origin. I don't think wise men will – reporters, historians, or scientists – have all the answers. I think we'll forever have to believe, not know.

July 6, 2017

i As I'll explain later, I don't know what the “truth” is.

ii Same thing. I don't accept the usual definition of “know.”

iii That's David Greenberg in his book “Republic of Spin” summarizing a view of Walter Lippmann early in the twentieth century. Unfortunately, although the technique of news gathering is much more advanced now – members of the media are more interested in expressing their own opinions (“truth”), and those of the owners of the organs for which they work than in providing relevant facts and context. It's called “advocacy journalism.” What has resulted is that there is little in today's press that is a straightforward and objective delineation of the facts; rather articles are intended to convince you to take a particular point of view.

iv Because they're certain that what they think is the “truth,” that's what they want you to think. Anyone with a contrary opinion is wrong, and possibly evil, trying to convince you of a false set of facts. Today we call such reporting “spin.” It's an activity primarily of advertising and public relations, and mainly on behalf of politicians, political views, and other products. Thus “truth” is often no more than opinion with an objective of swaying the listener.

v Or, at least, attributed to him. There were others, including George Orwell and Walter Benjamin, who made similar observations. At best, it's origin is uncertain.

vi In The Grand Design.

vii By Robert Fulghum. It was first published in 1986.

viii “Darwinism”

ix There is a free lunch.

x Atheists, like everyone else, are believers. Their religion, however, is science.

xi A newborn baby is observable and verifiable, but is it proof of a Creator or the random functioning of a randomly originated universe? Is a scientific formula any more convincing than a baby's formula?

xii “God Said It; I Believe It; and That Settles It!” For those who subscribe to that formulation, what they believe, they “know.” It's established fact.

xiii As G-d says in Job: “Where were you when I founded the earth?” And it goes on to list phenomena which I never observed. Indeed, who am I?

Beats Me

I don't know anything.

Actually that's not accurate. I really know a lot. But I can't do anything.

That's also a little misleading. I know what needs to be done but I'm not a hands-on person and I need more skilled people than myself to do it. I'm the big-picture type who makes a mess of the small details and can botch almost anything. But so what?

I saw the movie about Steve Jobs recently and can identify with him very well. At least I can identify with some of his characteristics. I don't mean to claim that I have his genius. I'm bright, but certainly not a genius. And I don't engender the dislike of others that was attributed to him in the film. But I like to imagine what could be and how to get there, even if I can't accomplish things on my own. And Jobs's way was to come up with the imaginative ideas and hire the people he knew could bring them about.

Thomas Edison is reported as having said, “Genius is 1 per cent inspiration and 99 per cent perspiration.” (In other citations the division is two and ninety-eight percent, but the idea is the same.) New ideas may be easy for some people to produce, but to take the basic idea and make it meaningful requires a great deal of effort. Edison's words were intended to emphasize the idea that effort is what counts. To be sure, effort certainly does count, but without the inspiration, the only useful application of perspiration is in work that already exists; and important and productive as that is, no innovation is involved.

But even more so – and I happen to believe that Edison had the numbers wrong, that genius has a much larger component of inspiration that makes the “effort” much more productive and enjoyable – unless genius is productive and recognized, it is valueless. One percent may be inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration, but one hundred ten percent is determination. I know that adds up to over two hundred percent, but we're talking about genius, and real genius knows no limitations.

Well, there are some limitations. For Edison it was the determination to turn his ideas into realities, and then into products that the public would want. For other geniuses – Einstein for example – it is the determination of others to understand the concepts which have been introduced. Einstein's hundred percent is only the beginning of the story. For Steve Jobs the task was one of analysis of what the public would want, and the inspiration to imagine what would fill their needs and desires. His perspiration primarily involved the locating and employment of others who could actually implement what he imagined. And his determination was to convince the public that he could solve their problems. His genius and determination involved both the creation of electronic devices and their marketing.

I enjoy writing, and I think I'm reasonably good at it. And I like to think about the problems that seem to me to exist. Sometimes those problems are real, but I suspect that occasionally I create problems and puzzles for myself in order to work them out.

That's the fun for me – working out a problem. I often do it by writing, which requires that I outline all the implications of an issue that I can imagine and explore how the various considerations impact it and help me reach a solution to the problem. Having done that, however, and having put the entire matter into some form of essay, it is far less important to me that my thoughts are read. Whatever the inspiration, and whatever the “perspiration” involved in working out the problem, I have little interest in whether or not others read what I have to say. That's up to them. There's no determination on my part.

Does that mean I'm a failure? I know I'm not a genius but I don't care. My ideas and efforts may not exceed one hundred percent. They may not even reach that level. Perhaps they're valueless, but that's only to others. For me they're fine.

Ignorance Is Bliss

By now you know I'm Jewish. My upbringing was mostly secular, but my wife and I chose a more religious path for our children – both at school and in our home. One of our most memorable home rituals was the Passover Seder but, in all honesty, I wasn't all that good at it. My education had left large holes in the knowledge of my heritage. So I decided to learn a little more about it, and to pass on to my children what I learned. I wrote a series of Haggadahs – “guidebooks” to the Seder – one for each of the children. The first was completed in 1980 when our oldest was fourteen, and the third two years later, when our youngest was eight. What I wrote in them isn't very important, but the experience was as the Introduction below will attest.

In the immortal words of Peggy Lee and Dave Barbour, “I know a little bit about a lot of things.” And while there are recurring themes in the essays published subsequently – like those in this column – I've also covered quite a bit of ground which included many subjects about which I had only a smattering of knowledge. Or as Lee and Barbour put it, “but I don't know enough about” them. (They had written “you” where I put “them” in the previous sentence, but you get the point.) So ignorance didn't stop me when I had something I wanted to say. In fact it helped, serving as an excuse for any errors, as you will see from the “Introduction” below. That essay, which was written for first Haggadah, may clarify my method, which I have continued to use – learn a little and shoot my mouth off. (Pope warned that “A little learning is a dangerous thing,” but that never fazed me.)

I'm including the whole Introduction. It's a little long but I like it the way it is. And you'll know a little more about me.

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Introduction

Seated around the seder table over the years we have had the opportunity to trade many ideas about the meanings of both the events recounted in the Haggadah, and the rituals associated with this celebration. These exchanges have added a lot to the pleasure of our joining together as a family, not rushed by the need to leave early or work the following day. We have learned a lot from each other, and from ourselves as well as we explored the questions we had, in order to explain our ideas about them to each other.

As the father it has been my responsibility to answer everyone's questions and to explain the deeper meanings of this important service. That has been my responsibility, but I have never fulfilled it to the degree that I should have liked. More often it has been your words, my children, your understandings and explanations, that have clarified the Haggadah for me. I have learned a lot from you and I am grateful to all of you for that. Your education and background prepared you better for this than did mine.

But my lack of education was not altogether wasted. The thoughts that I have had over the years about what was the seminal event of our history have prompted me to try to understand it in a manner a little different from the commentary in most Haggadahs. It is different in two ways. The first is in the premise of my comments. It is that the contents of the Haggadah are so basic to our understanding of our heritage that it is inconceivable that the entire Torah does not cast considerable light on it. I am certain that there is, in every parashah, whether it deals directly with the exodus or not, some thought that clarifies the meaning of the seder. Thus I have recorded my thoughts on each of the 54 sections of the Torah, indicating how I see it relating to the words of the Haggadah.

As for my lack of a formal education comparable to yours, however, that has been both a major drawback and a major benefit. Because most of the sources are closed to me I cannot bring down the references that have guided our commentators in the past. But my ignorance has been a kind of benefit. It has left me without some of the fixed ideas about what particular words, events or actions are supposed to mean. This lack of direction has allowed me to wander off in ways that may be different from those considered definitive. Indeed, some of my thoughts may be completely our of touch with our heritage, and I regret any ideas which, because of my ignorance, may be in disagreement with those of our sages.

But to the degree that my freedom to explore may have provided you with some perspectives that answer questions you have had, or which, at least, offer a different road for you to follow in finding your own answers, I am pleased. The effort, itself, has been both enlightening and liberating for me, for I have learned some important and basic lessons. First of all, in thinking about Jewish literature through the ages I recognize that a large percentage of it is not “original” but commentary on past works, especially the Torah, written and oral. And it follows that there is a great deal of commentary on the Haggadah, which is based on Torah. The Haggadah, which is based on biblical texts, has been expanded and expounded upon from the Tannaitic Period up to modern times, and the volume and varieties of commentaries is overwhelming.

More significantly, though, I now realize that the value of these commentaries is only in part the content. For after having engaged in this effort it seems apparent to me that even more important than the content is the process itself. I have commented on this idea while discussing Pikudei. Thinking and reworking the ideas has given me many more insights into it than I have recorded, and I hope that it will provide the opportunity for readers as well to consider and comment on the material. That is what Torah is about. It is a living document as long as we make it live by delving into it.

I have benefited greatly from this effort, and I hope you will gain a small part of the bounty I have derived from it.

The Age Of Enlightenment – See It Now

There was a time when everyone believed in something. Most people accepted some form of worship, and only a few weren't convinced of the reality of religion.

The Age of Enlightenment changed that. In the view of many it was a change for the better. The exposure to new ideas, and the discrediting of many of the views and beliefs of the past, however, left some confused. To a degree, the same process had already occurred both during the Renaissance and the Reformation, but an entirely new dimension was lent to scholarship during the period of “enlightenment.”

Earlier explosions of learning had helped people understand the past; it had increased their knowledge of the ages that had preceded them – that had helped to form them. Or, when it came to the Reformation, it had rationalized their belief system by providing a group of new theologies more acceptable to a disenchanted populace than what they had been practicing. And in doing so it left them with ideas and faith that were stronger and more palatable than the ones which they had been taught, and under which they had lived.

But the Age of Enlightenment was one that tore down rather than built up. Certainly there was an increase in the appreciation of the natural sciences and of philosophy, however the new knowledge that was being developed had the effect of teaching everyone that what had been experienced in the past was erroneous. Old rules were abandoned, and old governments overthrown.

The American and the French Revolutions provided liberty to people who had been oppressed for as long as they could remember, and the exhilaration of self-rule and of freedom from the control of the unjust system that had enslaved them marked the beginning of a new era of Good.

Good, but not G-d. Nothing couldn't be explained rationally. There was no need for the mythology of the past. And that's all religion was. There was a scientific justification for everything. There was no need for any extra-rational system of thought. Religion was “the opiate of the masses,” and its only value was to keep everyone quiet and subservient. It was debunked. Stephen Hawking has taught us that “because there is a law such as gravity, the universe can and will create itself from nothing.” That finished off whatever was left of faith. There was no need for an extra-rational explanation.

While Hawking's “explanation” simply pushes creation back, and doesn't really explain anything, it, and the societal changes and dogmas – Hawking's and those that came before it – that have accompanied “rationality” and the Age of Reason – another term for the period of “Enlightenment” – left many with a spiritual vacuum. Unfortunately it is a vacuum that too many were eager to fill.

For many the path to fulfillment involved a return to the religion of their past and of their family, but others had nothing in which they could believe and they sought both a new set of truths that would make sense of the world around them and a teacher or a guru who would lead them. They were a mass ready to follow a prophet who promised them the foundation they lacked. And they were ready to follow the teachings of their new leader without any thought about their validity. The invalidation of religion was the opiate of these not really liberated masses.

Sadly nothing has changed. We've had Jonestown and Heaven's Gate but people continue to seek the answer to the emptiness they face. And too often the prophets of our day have single item agendas – political, religious, or scientific – and they are impervious to reality; submissive followers are unable to deal with any views but those of their leaders, for those views have been accepted as their own. They are unable to compromise on political or social issues. Or, when it comes to religion, they are unwilling to allow others the choice of accepting another set of beliefs.

An example of such religious intolerance, and of the terror to which it may lead, is the San Bernadino massacre. Tashfeen Malik's allegiance to the Islamic State and its leaders, and Syed Farook's loyalty to a cause, are sad reminders of the power of an idea and the weakness of hollow individual wills. All it takes is a single-minded Svengali and people desperate to believe in something. It is the blindered leading the blind. Unfortunately we have too many of both. And we have too many examples of the violence that accompanies the intolerance of some.

There is no returning to the past. The jinii is out of the bottle. And we see what horror it can create. The Age of Enlightenment solved some problems but caused others. There are many paths to political, social, and religious truth – not a single one that everyone must follow. Until that idea becomes our path to enlightenment, intolerance and the refusal to accept other views will continue to cause societal dysfunction. A new Age of Reason in the future, one that has the dimensions of spirituality and tolerance, will be needed for that.

In His Image

Nature abhors a vacuum.

Humanity abhors ignorance and uncertainty. But different cultures deal with the problem in different ways. In ancient times – and some believe the same situation pertains today – the difficult questions were answered through confabulation; by the creation of intricate mythology. They consider the deities of the world's active religions to be on the same level with those of the past. From their perspective, Jesus has no more reality in today's world than Jove; that Allah is no more relevant than Aether. And the same principle applies whether the discussion centers on Australian aboriginal religion, Hinduism, Bahá'í, Gnosticism, Jainism, or whatever. I'll approach the problem by focusing on what I know best – the Jewish religion, and the implications of its teachings.ⁱ

According to the Torah – specifically to Exodus, chapters 33 and 34, Moses requested, and received, a personal viewing of G-d. He did it from a crevice in a rock and he only saw G-d from the back, but he saw Him. I'm less clear on why Moses sought the viewing. Certainly he knew what G-d looked like. He simply had to look at himself. After all, in Genesis, chapter 1, we're told that “G-d created man with His image. In the image of G-d He created him.”ⁱⁱ Man and G-d look the same.

Perhaps.

But what is the origin of the image? Did G-d create us in His image, or do we envision Him in ours? As far as doctrine, all we have are the words of men. We attribute the words to G-d and believe that their transcription by men is accurate. And we assume that the words of commentators are similarly correct. Millennia of such commentaries are designed to demonstrate that they are correct – even when the commentators disagree, when they are forced to alter what was written, or when they must interpret those words so we will understand them.

And we understand them best when they are expressed in human terms. That, however, leads to a system filled with anthropomorphisms. Physical appearance and actions are what we recognize, so descriptions tend to employ human organs and structures.ⁱⁱⁱ We're told that G-d used this terminology so that we'd understand Him, but if the language is only metaphorical, then we're forced to question the idea that we're created in His image. If, however, we, ourselves, are using language that we understand, if G-d is depicted in our image, the terminology is clearer to us. I don't mean to suggest that we invented G-d, but only to recognize that it was we who wrote about Him and described Him. And there is no guarantee of the correctness of our words.

All we have are words of men. Are they accurate records of G-d's words? Do we follow the words of men as if they were His? According to Jewish tradition, the words of our ancestors are all but sacrosanct. At least the words of recognized authorities. And the closer (in time) to Sinai, the more accurate the words. The wise man of one generation cannot deny the words of a prior commentator; he can only explain them. By seeing infallibility in the words of a sage, however, as Catholics do in the words of a Pope, we come extremely close to ascribing divine wisdom and power to him.

But there's a loophole. The more recent expert can “interpret” the words of his predecessor. (And he can disagree with other experts of his time.^iv) He can “understand” it to mean the opposite of what it might appear to mean. He can attribute it to an unlikely author if it seems reasonable to him, or add “missing” text when that seems appropriate. It's the only way to deal with material with which you disagree but you know you can't contradict the author. For the author's words are the Law. They are the words of G-d.

Yet it's hard not to see them as the words of men. That's not the case however. For what choice did those sages have? The words of their ancient predecessors are correct, and the closer temporally they are to Sinai and to G-d's pronouncements to the Jewish People,^v the more likely they are to reflect His wishes of us than what came later.^vi So more recent Rabbis have to understand them in the context of what they see around them now, recognizing that many things have changed, and Original Intent^vii may require some modification – some clarification – from what appears to be the teaching. We don't think that they are literally G-d, but they are certainly inspired by Him. Our concepts are His. By following the traditions of our people, we are following G-d's wishes.

But applying our ideas – “fairness,” for example – doesn't make sense since we cannot know His thoughts or what the term itself means in His “mind.” We neither know what He considers fair, or if the idea of fairness is at all relevant. And the same is true when we consider any other facet of His creation. Our concept of rationality must not be assumed to be His. We may view Him in our image but man is not the measure of all things. As the well-known biologist and agnostic Stephen Jay Gould^viii wrote: “The most important scientific revolutions all include, as their only common feature, the dethronement of human arrogance from one pedestal after another of previous convictions about our centrality in the cosmos.”

That, too, though, doesn't make sense. It's not rational. However what's the alternative? “Non-believers”^ix put their money on science, and on proof of whatever facts they can muster. G-d is not needed in their formulation.^x If it can't be proved, it's not true. That, of course, is an oversimplification. There is much we know now that we didn't understand in the past, but it was just as true then. And there is acknowledgment of the idea that there is still a lot we don't understand now. Not all the facts are known but that doesn't take away from the idea that they're true. It's the view of the “rationalists” that if the speck which the Big Bang turned into the universe appeared from nothing, there's an explanation for it.^xi If that speck was acted upon by universal laws of physics, their origin will also be explained some day. In the meantime, though, how do you get a good grasp on the incomprehensible? There's still a lot we don't know.

But that's the point.

Next episode: “Words To The Wise” -- Language, knowledge, and culture.

I        I suspect that the same issues exist in other religions as well.

ii       The Living Torah, Maznaim Publishing Corporation, New York, 1981.

iii      The human form of Jesus is about as anthropomorphic as you can get.

iv     Contradictions are well tolerated. In discussing a dispute between Hillel and Shamai, a heavenly voice announced eilu v'eilu divrei Elokim chayim (“both of these are the words of the living G-d”  Eruvin 13b). While a legal opinion was required and given, it was clear that contradictory views both had merit and should be accepted as the words of G-d.

v        And those who accompanied them when they escaped from Egypt.

vi       This is not to suggest that G-d no longer speaks to us, only that in the absence of a unified Jewish People who can all listen at the same time, we learn Torah from more recent sources.

vii      In addition to it being a Constitutional concept it also applies to religious thought.

viii     The following excerpt from Gould's article in Skeptic Magazine is interesting:

If you absolutely forced me to bet on the existence of a conventional anthropomorphic deity, of course I'd bet no. But, basically, Huxley was right when he said that agnosticism is the only honorable position because we really cannot know. And that's right. I'd be real surprised if there turned out to be a conventional God.

I remember a story about Clarence Darrow, who was quite atheistic. Somebody asked him: "Suppose you die and your soul goes up there and it turns out the conventional story is true after all?" Darrow's answer was beautiful, and I love the way he pictured it with the 12 apostles in the jury box and with his reputation for giving long speeches (he spoke two straight days to save Leopold and Loeb). He said that for once in his life he wasn't going to make a long speech. He was just going to walk up to them, bow low to the judge's bench, and say, "Gentlemen, I was wrong."

ix       They're not really “non-believers.” They're simply believers in “science.”

x        On the other hand, as G. K. Chesterton put it, “If there were no God, there would be no atheists.” But he, like they, possessed a belief system. It just happened to be different from theirs. Chesterton's aphorism is a paraphrase of Voltaire's, “If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent Him.” Clearly he and Chesterton are in agreement.

xi       Although it's difficult to see the difference between “the Big Bang” and creatio ex nihilo or even creatio ex deo. Where did the initial “speck” come from?

Don't Put A Cold In Your Pocket

                                                                                   

Why do we do what we do? What do we believe? Can we make intelligent decisions or do we lack the information? Do we give any thought to our beliefs? Do we care? Laymen follow (at least they think they do) common sense, or whatever it says on Google. But do we really know what we think we know? And is it true?

To a very significant degree this is a follow-up on the essays of the last two weeks. In this case, however, there's no science fictionⁱ in it. Rather it's an expansion on the issue of education. And it's a sad commentary on the state of what we learn. In the previous messages I suggested that education is, by and large, tailored to the desires of the audience. That's neither an original thought nor an unusual practice. But perhaps a little more exposition would be helpful in understanding my concerns in this area.

We usually associate education with schools. It certainly goes on there, although the results are often spotty, and the information given students is often contrary to what parents think or want. Indeed, sometimes the “facts” are wrong.ⁱⁱ But right and wrong are not significant criteria when it comes to what is learned. More important considerations are the student's age and interests, the frequency of repetition of the lesson, the ability of the teacher and the quality and attractions of the teaching materials, and the rewards and threats – implied and explicit – that accompany learning and not learning a particular lesson.

Childhood is best time for learning: baseball stats, movie star data, and the content of ads are good examples of what they're likely to learn. Kids don't always relate to school lessons but they remember other material that interests them. They learn best what they want to believe or want to know. And from those in whom they have confidence. Very young children trust adults and believe whatever an adult says, both for facts and philosophy. But as they get older, and primarily because of a need for independence, kids begin to rebel – to reject the teachings of their parentsⁱⁱⁱ and, to a degree, those of other adults – especially those not well skilled in getting their attention or who transmit messages in which they're not interested. They trust their peers, however, to be reliable sources of information – especially regarding subjects like sex, which the adults are loath to discuss.^iv Or popular music about which the adults know nothing.^v Actually, those we consider our peers, whether adults or children, are among the most important influences on our learning, even when their lessons are false. (It is they, our peers, who convince us, for example, that “natural” and “organic” are best for us, even if they don't know what the terms mean.^vi They heard it – or something on the subject – from someone else, or they read it in the paper.)

But the best teachers are those in the advertising business. It's not the tenured professor who will keep his job no matter what his students learn,^vii but the advertiser or copywriter who has to sell a product every day in order to stay employed, who is the best educator. It's up to him to convince us there's a problem that only his product can solve. Whether his “solution” has any value is irrelevant, as long as the goods sell. Ideally his product does what is claimed for it, but that's not invariably the case,^viii nor is it necessary. Claims usually precede knowledge, especially if the buyer is primed to accept the presumed value of the product or practice. That's certainly the case with panaceas, snake oil, and beauty products – usually accompanied by some promise of eternal youth.^ix It's also true of other health related wares. “Don't put a cold in your pocket” may be convincing advertising copy, but you can't catch your own cold, so if you use a handkerchief you're not really risking reinfection next time. And if you use tissues and there's no garbage can, you have a choice between littering, and putting the used tissue in your pocket.

Other important teachers are those who advise you to sneeze into your antecubital fossa,^x and that chicken soup is the best cure for a cold.^xi They may not be old wives, but they've learned from them. And they will try to convince you that vitamins are good for you.^xii But, no matter what they say, there's no proof that most of those nostrums they've been using for years have any effect. Don't waste your time offering contrary evidence. There's no changing the mind of someone already convinced. (As Oliver Wendell Holmes said, "The mind of the bigot^xiii is like the pupil of the eye: the more light you shine on it, the more it will contract."^xiv) Too often what we think is true is more important than what is true. Even if what we think is true was drummed into us by someone with an ax to grind.

It's nice to believe that all we've been taught is true. It's nice to believe that all of those who would provide us with the truth know what they're talking about. Unfortunately, that's not always the case. Too much of what we “know” has been programmed into us either by people who know less than we, but who had custody of our minds before we understood that we could question them, or those who have a vested interest in our accepting what they have to say, whether it relates to politics, advertising, propaganda, or something else.

In short, the time will come when scientists (presumably working on behalf of the government) will be able to load us with the desired “software” to be good servants of the State. We'll be properly educated to believe and to know everything our leaders want us to know. But even before that, our educational system, and a host of other interested parties, will teach us their truths – their catechism. And everyone will learn – whether it is their intention or not to do so. All, especially the young, are very open to whatever they are told. They are open-minded, and they fault their elders for not accepting new ideas. But as James Randi said, “There is a distinct difference between having an open mind and having a hole in your head from which your brain leaks out.” And for too many the exposed brain can be washed and the permitted knowledge inserted. That's what will happen if we let it.

But Winston Smith^xv showed us that this doesn't have to be the case. For at least part of his life he was not obedient, even though he had been taught that following the rules made life easier, and disobedience would lead to punishment, he didn't submit to the party and accept the “facts” he was told. He questioned them. And that is what the rest of us can do. If something that we are taught doesn't seem right, it may not be right. And if something we have always accepted seems wrong, it may be wrong.^xvi We can still fight political and societal “truths,” however, if we choose to do so – if we question them and determine their veracity.

But the questioning and the evaluation of new (and old) information is up to us. The learning of the facts that govern us and on which we base our thoughts is certainly a function of education. ^xvii But another function of education is to teach us to question what we are told. When we stop questioning – when we lose the ability and interest in questioning – we will have lost any chance to form correct and meaningful thoughts.^xviii “You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” But if the “truths” are false, they shall enslave you. Soon enough, the authorities you don't question will be able to determine your thoughts and make them correspond to what is desired. And what is desired will be determined by the the bureaucrats, regulators, and civil servants and whoever controls them. They will monitor what you think, and they will control what you do. Доверяй, но проверяй – “Trust but verify.” President Reagan^xix may have been concerned specifically with its application to American foreign policy, but it's good advice for all of us.

“If not now, when?”^xx

Next episode: “A La Whatever” – Food for thought.

i         Future science.

ii        “Wrong” is a loaded word – both in terms of factual accuracy and cultural or philosophical acceptability. Who decides such things? How is the culture in which a child is reared (or in which an adult lives) a determining factor in “rightness” or “wrongness?”

iii      They know more than their parents anyway, so there's no real loss.

iv       Parents are simultaneously horrified that their children are learning about sex from their friends (juvenile delinquents with dirty minds), and relieved that the need to have “that talk” no longer exists.

v       And like nothing. Of course our parents didn't share our taste in music either.

vi       Given the choice between natural and unnatural potatoes, which would you choose? And “organic” used to mean that something contained carbon.

vii       Or don't learn.

viii     The FDA has just issued a warning that “antibacterial soaps” have never been demonstrated to be useful, and they may actually do more harm than good by fostering the growth of resistant forms.

ix      The cosmetics usually contain some amazing ingredients like prune oil, vitamin Q, and some unspellable scientific-sounding material that the hucksters try to convince us is the answer to all the ravages of time. The “expert” in the television advertisement will be wearing a white coat, and the “delighted” consumer will usually be a beautiful model.

x       See Tuck And Cover, October 11, 2010.

xi      Actually, good chicken soup is the best cure for almost anything. But it has no medicinal effect on a cold or anything else.

xii     Most medical authorities consider them a waste of money and, in large quantities, potentially harmful. But what do they know? The vitamin salesman knows best.

xiii     He said “bigot,” but the same truth applies to anyone absolutely convinced that he is right about something.

xiv      Conspiracy theories abound. There are so many things that “THEY” are doing to us and that “THEY” don't want us to know.

xv       See 1984 by George Orwell.

xvi     Even worse, we may be taught something that seems right but is wrong. Or we may have such a belief from childhood.

xvii    Much – but not all – of what we are taught is true, but,

xviii   It's also important to consider the reliability of the source. Too often we are given a biased source as “proof” of the validity of a particular claim. A comparison of different perspectives may be revealing, but it's often the case that we accept what we already believe and reject anything that disagrees with it.

xix     Citing a Russian proverb.

xx      Hillel. Pirke Avot, 1:14.

I Don't Know

                                                         
                                                                          

Yesterday was Yom Kippur. If you're unfamiliar with the holiday, it's the most important annual observance on the Jewish calendar. It's the Day of Judgment; the day of reckoning for us all; the day on which we are all judged regarding our behavior during the year that has just passed and our fate for the following year. Will we live or die?

On that day we fast, having neither food nor drink for about twenty-five hours. We focus on our shortcomings and our regret for them. We petition for forgiveness; we vow to try to eliminate our sinful behavior in the future.

Does it work? I don't know. It would be presumptuous of me to think that I have survived because I have led a virtuous life or that G-d has forgiven all my sins, but the reality is that I am still alive.ⁱ And it would be disrespectful of me to suggest that the lives of those who perished last year were less valuable than mine.

I don't know. But that's just fine. According to Avot,ⁱⁱ one of the tractates of the Talmud, “Regarding that which he [the wise man] has not learned, he says 'I have not learned this.'” And in Berachotⁱⁱⁱ it is written, “... a Master said: let thy tongue acquire the habit of saying 'I know not,' lest you be led to falsehoods.” There are many variations on this theme in the various cultures, but all point out that admitting ignorance is the beginning of wisdom.

There is a genre, which is usually concluded with a “one-liner,” that centers on a guru at the top of a mountain. He is usually asked about the meaning of life, or its secret. While his response is unlikely to shed any real light on the question, that is not important. More to the point, the guru does not know – though he will not say so.^iv What is significant, however, is that the question seems to matter to so many people. And it is one to which there is no certain answer. There are numerous uncertain ones – philosophers, amateur and professional – claim to know what it is, but they are fooling themselves.

It is a commonplace of those who are observant of one religion or another to confess that they are clueless. They will usually frame their views with an acknowledgment of the existence of a Creator followed by an admission that they do not, and cannot, know His Mind^v on the subject or why He did what He did. They don't know, and they acknowledge it. And they concede similar ignorance about a host of other issues – physical and metaphysical – that deal with existence and with the world around us.

There are many, however, who discount any value or validity for religion. To them, neither fate nor faith has any meaning. Scientific proof is the only thing that matters. Lacking it, any view represents superstition. They know what is verifiable, and are certain that, in the end, Man,^vi will understand everything. They are not willing to say “I do not know,” unless it is followed by the word “yet.” They adamantly favor a “big bang” over a “creation,” although it is difficult to be sure what the difference is. In both cases “something” derived from “nothing” which, is a scientific contradiction, but so be it. Their belief^vii makes them happy.

As for me, I'm comfortable with the idea that I don't know everything, as well as with the fact that I cannot do so and will never do so. I will be judged next Yom Kippur as I was yesterday. It is my responsibility to follow the rules of my religion – and it is a responsibility that I glory in taking.

Science will take care of itself.

Next episode: “A Perfect World” – Don't you just wish?

I       Or, at least, I hope I'll still be among the living when this is published. Since I'm writing this about a month in advance, I can't be sure.

ii       Chapter 5, Mishna 10.

iii      4a.

iv      Which raises questions about his wisdom – the mountaintop notwithstanding.

v       Both words are anthropomorphisms. No sexism is intended. Not even in the word “anthropomorphism.”

vi      No sexism is intended here either. Use whatever pronoun you like.

vii     Although they'll deny that belief has anything to do with it.