Imperfection in Perfection

I checked, and I haven’t yet spoken on this topic. I am surprised, as it is a pretty big deal for me. Of the things I’ve learned in this life, this may be one of the most important.

Growing up, my father was responsible for most of the things I know and think, directly or indirectly. The idea of an absolute truth, a truth about the universe that is true irrespective of all our perspectives, is one my father held onto very strongly. Even I find myself seduced by the charm of this idea. However, as I continue my life, I find that the idea of an absolute truth seems less and less likely. The world is so mysterious, and I discover things I never expected all the time. So much so that I wonder if those things we so strongly hold onto might possibly be shown false at some point.

Perfection is such a thing. What is it to be perfect? The idea seems simple enough. To be perfect is to be without flaws. To be without defects. So what is a flaw or defect? I decided to look this up online, just for completeness, and I was amused at the response I received: a flaw or defect is something that makes a thing imperfect. This loops right back to my original query. This is circular reasoning.

So far, to be perfect is to be without flaws, and a flaw is something that makes a thing imperfect. Great. That doesn’t tell me anything at all. Or, to be more accurate, it is suggestive of something about perfection. Perfection, it seems to me, is highly subjective. For a thing to be perfect, I have to decide it is perfect. For a thing to be a flaw, I have to decide it is a flaw. Only then will the definitions start to make sense. Only then can I hope to find perfection.

This all relates back to freedom, which I often talk about. I am free to decide what things will count as being perfect, and as such, I can thus decide what things will count as flaws. A perfect circle is perfect because every point in that circle is precisely the same distance from a very specific point that is not a part of that circle. This sort of definition of a circle works, but it may not be clear its reason for working. I have decided this is what counts as a circle, and so I now have a method for determining flaws: if a point on the circle is at a different distance from the specific point, then that point is a flaw in the circle. The more points that exist of this nature, the more flaws exist in the circle, and the more imperfect the circle becomes.

The question to be asked here is whether this definition of circles is justified. That is, can I suggest that there is such a thing as a circle, and thus a perfect circle? Do I need, as Plato did, to generate a realm of perfect Forms to contain these perfect objects, as our material world contains no actually perfect circles? If our current science is to be trusted, and all things are made up of atoms and molecules, then there are certainly no perfect circles in existence. Each atom is bound to each other atom in very particular ways, and those atoms are not stationary either. If I count each atom as a point in my hypothetical circle, then the distance to that circle’s specific point from each atom varies from time to time, making each atom a flaw in my circle. A very imperfect circle indeed.

This may all be quite pedantic, as no one is likely to notice those sorts of flaws at our scale. A circle that is drawn on a piece of paper may be perfect within the reasonable error of our measuring devices. I may still be inclined to suggest my circle is perfect, within reason. And that may be sufficient for most circumstances. That may be sufficient for an assessment of beauty, for example.

If this all works, so far, then I might be inclined to suggest that perfection is achievable within a certain amount of error. That is, if a flaw exists within the scope of error, then I may want to dismiss this flaw. Only when a flaw exceeds the error do I want to count it as a true flaw. But then, I have to decide now what constitutes an appropriate amount of error. In the case of my circle, I may decide that the amount of error may be determined by the limitations of my measuring equipment. However, this is still a choice that I am making. It is still subjective. Given different circumstances, my choice of an appropriate amount of error may change, and a circle that was once perfect may suddenly find itself to be imperfect.

It seems all well and good to discuss geometric objects, but what about real world objects. What about bodies? What about faces? Is there a perfect body or a perfect face? A perfect human? How would we define such a thing? I’ve heard it suggested that perfection in bodies and faces is related to bilateral symmetry. That is, every point on one side of the body or face is matched with an exact equal on the other side. The arms are precisely the same on both sides, or the eyes or the ears. Not just that those parts exist on both sides, but that they are of precisely the same size and shape and colour.

With a definition like this, it seems to suggest that what each side possesses is irrelevant, so long as there is matching going on. A person missing one arm is imperfect, but lop off the other arm, and they may possibly find their perfection once again. Would I consider a person with no arms perfect? This seems to flow naturally into the question of the perfect human.

A perfect human has both their arms. Both their legs too. In fact, there is a laundry list of features that all humans are expected to have. Physical features that I expect all humans to possess, and if they are lacking, I consider them deficient. Where does this list come from? Some might suggest the list comes from our genetic code. Upon growing from egg to fetus to baby, my genetics dictate that I will have two arms, for example. So what if a particular human’s genetics suggest otherwise? There are perfectly natural people out there with more or less appendages as a direct result of their genetic blueprints.

It can be found very easily online, if you perform a search for “human defect;” the flaws that exist as a direct result of our genetics. But if this is true, then our genetics cannot be the source of a list of perfect features. After all, we cannot use the same source for our list of perfect features that we at the same time use as our list for flaws and defects. How do I decide which features the genetics got right, and which it got wrong?

I hear some saying that if the feature promotes fitness, as in Darwin’s idea of survival of, then it is a perfect feature. But if we follow this, then different features will provide fitness in different circumstances. Where one is born, as well as when, will play a very important role in determining which features are desirable and undesirable. Not all places or times required stocky attributes over skinny ones. Sometimes the other was more desirable. Sometimes the other was more fit.

The more I ponder this, and I have been pondering for over 40 years now, the more I have decided that perfection is unreasonable. The very idea implies a subtle truth: that nothing is perfect. As humans, we seem to have decided that all things need to be categorized. This idea of categorization is important, as it helps us relate to our surroundings and the world as a whole. But it also is suggestive that there are many alike things in the world as well. Things that we can look upon and decide that they are all circles, or dogs, or people. And upon calling a thing by its category, we also decide what makes that thing representative of its category; what makes it perfect.

We decide what things fall into what categories. We, starting with Aristotle, made up these categories. As such, we decide perfection. It is subjective. To forget that we decided when something is perfect or imperfect, to elevate perfection to an absolute measure, claiming its source to be objective or from the universe itself, is to make perfection into simulacra.