Fantasy Is Reality

I’ve written two other posts discussing fantasy and reality. In the first I tried to show how fantasy and reality related to one another; how fantasy tends to include and be influenced by reality. I felt it was important to demonstrate that many fantasies are often mistaken for reality, of fictions being misrepresented as facts. That I think it is important to recognize this, lest I fall into creating my own simulacra, deceiving myself about the world.

In the second post, I explored more precisely what fantasy was, and how I tend to work toward making my fantasy into reality. I tried to show how fantasies are sort of like my wishes and desires, and how I can sometimes manipulate reality in order to turn a fantasy into the real. The main point I focused on was how fantasy and reality are not really opposites from each other, but more like steps of a procedure; my fantasy is my ambition, and turning it into reality is my goal.

Today, I again delve into these two related concepts, but this time I want to discuss how there is something of reality in fantasy. That is, when I spend time in a fantasy, like when I read a book or enter into simulation, how the fantasy is in some way just as real as the reality I am in here and now. How fantasy is reality, in a very real sense.

Before going any further, I first need to set some ground rules. Language here is already becoming incredibly confusing. And so, when I use the term Reality (with the capital letter “R”) I will be referring to this realm that I presently inhabit. That is, I am talking about the life that I exist in, just as I assume you do as well, where I have a flesh and blood body and I am required to breath and eat to sustain myself. Where I live on a planet we call Earth, in a country we call Canada. I have a job and I have a partner that I live with.

It may seem strange for me to delve into such detail, but I assure you it is necessary. This Reality is not to be confused with what goes on on the Internet in chat rooms or the like. In Reality, I have to literally walk from place to place, picking up objects with my flesh and blood hands. In Reality, if I die, I cease to be able to participate in other realities, which is something I will discuss a little later.

When I use the term Fantasy (with the capital letter “F”) I will be referring to a realm of existence where I am real but the world I inhabit is in some way fictitious. For example, when I read a book, within my mind I imagine the world of the story. The images in my mind, of the landscapes and of the people, are entirely fictitious and do not exist in Reality. The world I inhabit, while reading the book, only exists within my mind and my imagination. Often there are similar and related things in Fantasy to what exists in Reality, however if something in Fantasy is changed, the similar thing in Reality will remain unaffected.

There can be many Fantasies. As another example, perhaps I play a video game on my computer. The world of the video game is another Fantasy, distinct from the earlier example while I read the book. In the world of the video game, I still exist in some fashion, though the world of the game is now represented within a computer. It may be presented to me through the use of a monitor or perhaps even goggles over my eyes, but that world still does not exist in Reality.

I hope the clearing up of these terms helps, but I suspect it is still going to be challenging to follow. I will do my best to keep things clear.

I have already been hinting at something significant here during my definitions that is the real focus of my interest in this discussion. In both Reality and Fantasy, there is something in common: me. While the world in Fantasy may be fictitious, I am not. Perhaps I control an avatar within the Fantasy, and that avatar is certainly going to be fictitious, but I am still linked to that avatar in some way. And again, for emphasis, I am still real. I inhabit Reality and Fantasy simultaneously.

But then what am “I” really? Clearly I cannot be talking about my flesh and blood body, as that seems only to exist in Reality. There is no flesh and blood in Fantasy, at least not of the same sort as exists in Reality. If one assumes mind-body dualism, as René Descartes suggested, then “I” clearly cannot be my body. “I” must be somewhat closer to being my mind. And when it comes to simulations like video games, this may very well suite our purposes acceptably. But in the case of reading the book, this does not work as well. In a video game, “I” controls an avatar. In a book, “I” does not control anything.

No, when I talk about “me” in these cases, I need to be talking about something distinct from my mind as well. Perhaps not entirely distinct, but at least different than. “I” can exist apart from my mind, in some sense. So again, what am “I” really?

The best I’ve been able to describe this idea I have, up to the point I wrote this post, is that “I” am a thing that experiences. A “first person” for lack of better language. When my eyes react to the light outside my body, chemical signals are sent to my brain and interpreted. The interpretations are then… What exactly? Analyzed perhaps? Worked with? Experienced is the only word I can come up with. Something experiences whatever the brain has been dealing with. This is “me,” the thing that experiences.

I’ve tried to explain this concept to others, but I think I have failed every time. Perhaps I am failing again this very moment. But I hope not. And I will continue, in the hopes that you understand, at least a little bit.

What is extremely important to clarify here is that if “I” am the thing that experiences, then my mind is not necesarily under my control, in a sense. I am a reflection, or a reaction, to the world around me. It seems to be, as far as I can tell, that Reality is highly (if not completely) deterministic. That is, Reality appears to follow a law of cause and effect. For me to see, light must excite the cells in the back of my eyes. The light is the cause, and the excited cells are the effect. Those excited cells send chemical signals through neurons to my brain. The excited cells are now the cause, and the chemical signals now the effect. I can add more specificity, but the result is the same. Something causes something else to happen, the effect.

My mind is part of this chain that started with my body. The body is my interface to the world, reacting to stimulus, and manipulating matter. I can pick up the glass that was on my table, and place it beneath, and thus have manipulated Reality. However, as I stated earlier, my body does not exist in Fantasy. My mind receives the information from my body, and can send commands to my body, allowing me to pick up that glass. But in Fantasy, there is no body and no glass.

In the case of some Fantasies, my mind may still exist in the same fashion it did in Reality, however, it no longer controls my body in Reality nor even necessarily receives the same stimulus from it. This point is highly contentious, as it can easily be argued that the body in Reality is receiving all the stimulus from the monitor or goggles, which are presenting the Fantasy to me. Perhaps this is why my mind can so easily be reasoned to continue to exist within Fantasy. So let us tackle this from another perspective.

In the case where I read the book, what then is going on? There is no monitor to present Fantasy to my eyes. No speaker to present Fantasy to my ears. Where does the interface lay? It seems to me that my mind itself now becomes the interface. Through my imagination, I generate my Fantasy realm. My mind has, in some sense, replaced my body in this regard. But it still isn’t quite clear what is happening in this case. It is not clear whether my mind is both representing my Fantasy world and simultaneously “me.” Can it do both at the same time?

Untangling becomes a bit more interesting when I consider the fact that the story from the book contains a character: the protagonist. “I,” in some way, inhabit the protagonist. “I” become that entity in a very real way. As the story is read, I can feel what the protagonist feels and see what the protagonist sees. Within my imagination, of course. But that is the very point I am driving towards here. I feel what the protagonist feels. My feelings are real, even when the protagonist is not.

To be happy or sad are not things I can control or fabricate. It is true that I can present myself to be these things to others in Reality, or even in Fantasy, and the others may be convinced. But I would still know on some level. I cannot deceive myself, can I, akin to Jean-Paul Sartre‘s description of Bad Faith, working at convincing myself to ignore the evidence to the contrary. My feelings simply are as they are. I can try to deny them or ignore them, but they still exist despite my best efforts.

The key here is that these feelings are still real to me. I still experience them, regardless of what realm I seem to be inhabiting. In Reality. In Fantasy. It makes no difference to “me.” I feel as I feel. The feelings are.

In writing this all down, it occurs to me that perhaps these feelings are not necessarily a part of my mind anymore, and may instead be a part of “me.” Perhaps “I” am more than merely a thing that experiences. Or perhaps the fact that “I” am a thing that experiences is why I have these feelings at all. Perhaps emotion is a component of “I.”

Returning to my focus, “I” still experience my feelings, regardless of whether I am in Reality or in Fantasy. “I” am the same, in some sense, even when the world around me is completely different. “I” remain. “I” am consistent, or persistent. “I” exist in all realms.

The feelings I feel, the experiences I experience, are all just as real to me regardless of the realm they seem to originate from.

It makes no difference to me if the world around me is fabricated, if I am still brought to anger and wish to lash out. I still lash out. Perhaps the manner in which I am forced to lash out will be changed based on the limitations and restrictions of the realm I presently inhabit, but I still feel as I feel and I still lash out in some manner. Whether I am flailing my arms in Reality, or my avatar is flailing his arms in Fantasy, I still manifest my emotional state in both cases.

In the case of the protagonist, I may not have control of my actions. I may be stiffled. My anger welling up inside me, begging to be set free, while the protagonist restrains himself. Unable to manifest how I need to manifest, as the Fantasy realm in this case is limiting my actions and agency. But I still feel that anger. I still feel.

I know this is all quite a lot to consider. Quite an abstract concept to wrap one’s brain around. But I hope I’ve been successful in my attempt. To demonstrate how there exists something very real within Fantasy. How Reality, in some sense, exists within all Fantasy. Because “I” am real, and “I” exist in all Fantasy. At least, all Fantasy that “I” participate in, whether voluntary or involuntary.

Because “I” exist in all realms, and because “I” am in some sense real at all times, the significance between Fantasy and Reality becomes less important. I experience in both Fantasy and Reality. Fantasy and Reality both generate within me feelings, and those feelings are always real to me. In these ways Fantasy might as well be Reality for most purposes. And if I don’t know the difference, it may ultimately be unimportant to me. Robert Nozick‘s suggestion that I would not want to participate in the experience machine because it was somehow not real seems false. Fantasy may be Reality, as far as I can tell, or even as far as I want to.

The Rehearsal

It was recommended to me to watch the HBO series The Rehearsal. So I did. I am not entirely sure what to make of this show. This blog will be me exploring my own feelings regarding what takes place and to see where I end up. In other words, I actually do not know how I feel at this point. I am literally going to travel down a rabbit hole and see what happens…

I also need to warn of spoilers here. If you have not seen this series by Nathan Fielder, then you ought to watch the show first before reading this post. On the other hand, perhaps you might find my analysis valuable to help you understand whether you will want to invest the time in watching the show at all. This, of course, is entirely up to you.

Briefly, the show is about a guy who helps other people with challenging, but relatively mundane, real life situations by rehearsing those situations in order to try and achieve the most optimal outcome. For example, in the opening episode, we have a man who has been lying about his education to his trivia buddies for the past twelve years, and has decided finally to come clean. The man is afraid of the reaction one particular trivia buddy will have, and so the rehearsals are intended to ensure that his buddy will remain his buddy after the truth is revealed.

In other words, Fielder is going to attempt, to the best of his ability, to simulate with perfect accuracy the situation whereby the man will engage when he reveals his deception. This entails Fielder building a full sized replica of the bar where the individuals will be hanging out, filling the bar with actors who will portray the various potential people that will be present, including an actor portraying the buddy who will be learning of the “horrible” lie.

The entire series is filled with such pedantically assembled rehearsals of mundane activities and situations, with the creation of detailed sets and the hiring of a literal army of actors. It is quite amusing the passing comments regarding budget throughout the series, especially when staff are hired to maintain the illusion of winter time around a house during the middle of summer. It seems there is no limit to the lengths Fielder is willing to go to perfect his craft.

As a comedy, the series is quite good. The level of ridiculousness that is achieved by the show is far and beyond any other show I have ever seen, and I laughed a lot. But during the viewing, I found the humor was constantly overshadowed by something else. Something sinister and insidious.

It seems others have been suggesting that Fielder was manipulative and sadistic, taking his “contenstants” and embarrassing them on live television. When I suggest something nefarious is going on, this is not what I have in mind. I need to make this clear at the outset. The problem I found with the show is something more subtle, and perhaps even difficult to see unless one just happens to be trained in hard core analysis (like perhaps philosophical analysis) and perhaps even possessing a bit of OCD.

To properly discuss my concern, I first have to talk a little about my personal history. I have a challenging relationship with my siblings and my parents. I am not always sure if my siblings and parents realize this, but I cannot really be around them anymore. It is more than just that they “drive me nuts.” When I am around them, I start to lose parts of myself.

The problem I have with my family has to do with the understanding of actions and consequences of actions. Of cause and effect. My family complains a lot about the going-ons in their lives. They complain about how hard their lives are. They complain about how the world is so unfair. They complain about how others do not take care of them in the ways they feel they are supposed to be taken care of. My family seems to feel that the world owes them something. My family feels that other people owe them something.

However, from my vantage point, it seems to me that something very different is going on. To me, it seems like all the terrible and painful situations my family members end up in are a direct result of the choices and actions they each take. I am able to see the chains of events that have transpired through days, weeks, months, even years, that have led from decisions they have made to their ultimate downfall and suffering. I do not know why or how I was able to do this from such a young age, but I did. And the worst part was that I didn’t even really understand how much I was doing the same things until I finally gained distance from my family.

Less than ten years ago, I left the city I grew up in. I moved to another city in another province. Far enough away that it was unreasonable to see in person my family or many of my existing friends at the time. This distance slowly revealed to me the problem I am expressing. I started to recognize just how much my own actions and decisions were affecting my own situations. How my own world view was responsible for my happiness and well being. And, I admit, I had a lot of help with all this because I was then living with my current life partner. She was instrumental in me seeing what I could not, up to that point, see.

The reason all of this is significant is because I learned to see how my own choices and actions led to all the consequences around me. My world was so much more within my control than I ever realized. I still cannot control other people, nor can I levitate above the ground, but through my choices and actions I can have a profound impact on the circumstances and situations I find myself in. I can choose to be happy, for example. And I can just as easily choose not to be happy.

This all applies to my family and friends as well. And this is where I have challenges. Because it seems to me that my family and many of my friends all choose not to be happy. They seem content to complain and carry on about how bad their lives are, and they seem never to see how it is their own decisions and actions are making their lives so miserable. I find it incredibly difficult to listen to people complaining about things they could very easily change. I often try to say to them that if life is so bad, why not change it. But they just look at me like I am somehow crazy.

This is how I see the show The Rehearsal. I see the show with the same critical eye that I see my family. I see how the various characters, and especially Fielder himself, are orchestrating their own downfalls and their own difficulties. What is worse is that Fielder appears to be trying to fix his situation, by conducting these rehearsals, not recognizing how his rehearsals are in fact having the opposite effect. The rehearsals only serve to exacerbate the situations.

I think the most frustrating thing for me is how Fielder barrels down his path to the abyss by focusing on the very thing that is causing him so much trouble. His simulations are imperfect, and so he focuses on trying to make his simulations more and more perfect. He seems to be of the opinion that if he could simply get to a high enough level of accuracy, his simulations will somehow both reveal and make possible the perfect rehearsals for the perfect outcomes. In the third episode, he has the epiphany that he needs better emotional resolution in his characters, because he believes that it is this lack of emotional connection that is causing him the troubles.

What Fielder does not understand, just as many scientists or statisticians do not understand, is that he is privileging information in his selection process. He is introducing bias in his decision regarding what he holds important. For example, when he trains the actors in his “Fielder Method,” he is privileging the sorts of ways the actors ought to watch their targets in order to gain the greatest amount of accuracy in their performances. Ultimately, the method leads to an almost literal stepping into the shoes of the target, living what they believe are the same lives, working the same occupations, etc.

However, what neither Fielder nor the actors seem to realize is that a large part of what makes a person what they are is unobservable. As often comes up in the discussions I have about consciousness, I cannot experience your experiences. I cannot think your thoughts. I cannot feel your feelings. René Descartes rightly pointed this all out in his Meditations, and the unfortunate conclusion that can be drawn from such things is that mine might be the only consciousness in existence, leading to the very real possibility of solipsism.

What is worse is that when the actors, and Fielder himself, start to occupy the roles they observe their targets filling, they start to introduce further biases in their method of occupation. For example, Fielder suggests to Thomas that to better understand his target, he ought to move into an apartment with some artistic roommates, because they had learned that the target lived in an apartment with musician roommates. Later, Fielder himself, while in the role of Thomas, also moves into an apartment with some artistic roommates, even going so far as to use the same names for the roommates as well. As accurate as the simulated simulation is, it is clearly not the same. Aside from using different actors in the roles of the roommates, the apartments are mirrored in their set ups as well. Likely due to constraints of budget again, it is not feasible to absolutely replicate the simulated apartment. It is also worth noting that the audience never sees the original apartment for which all these simulations are being copied from, perhaps because that original is unavailable to be viewed.

The driving force of my concern here is not whether Fielder is sincere in his effort at duplication or replication, but in the simple fact that perfect duplication or perfect replication is not possible. More to the point is the fact that in order to achieve the simulation, subtle choices have to be made to “bridge the gaps” were information is missing, which leads to the creeping in of unfortunate biases.

Later in the season, it does seem like Fielder ought to start to recognize these challenges when he starts noting how any formulation of replacement for Remy is always inferior in some way to the original. The use of older actors pretending to be six year old children, or even the use of dolls, in both cases never works. Fielder ought to be able to recognize the problem, but instead simply pushes further and further into his own insanity.

Which brings me to my final point: insanity. Fielder is so focused on his goal that he misses all that he does to alter and change the situations in his attempts at perfection. He changes the model he is trying to attain in order to make it more likely to attain the model. But he has to CHANGE the model each time to do this. Meaning that the idealized source of all his concerns keeps changing. He is not looking at anything remotely real by the end, but only of a simulacra.

This show is a demonstration of Jean Baudrillard‘s concern in his work Simulacra and Simulation. While normally the formation of simulacra tends to be a slower and more time consuming process, Fielder has succeeded in generating his simulacra of reality in a matter of a few episodes of his show. By the finale, with his apparent flub, Fielder has confirmed his existence in Baudrillard’s hyperreal, complete with the formation of… Well… We have to wait until the second season to see what he has become. Will he confuse the child actor Liam, who plays the other child actor Remy, who was playing the imaginary child Adam, as his own actual son? And if so, who has he confused? Adam? Remy? Liam? Someone else entirely?

For Baudrillard, the problem is the detachment from the real. To lose the source of grounding and end up in some sort of relativistic plane of existence. Where symbols are of symbols only, with no connection to anything that is actually real. To mistake the symbols for the real and start living a life that is devoid of connection to the world as it actually is. To not understand that there even could be a world outside our illusions, and mistake all the illusions for everything there is. This is the ongoing challenge of social media in our present age, mistaking people’s profiles for the people themselves. When the people mistake their own profiles for themselves and start living their virtual lives as though these virtual lives are their actual flesh and blood real lives.

Which ultimately leads me back to my original question. Did I like this show? How do I feel about this series? I am still not sure. I do like that the series has got me thinking so much about things. I do enjoy anything that gets me thinking, especially really hard like this. But at the same time, it simultaneously frustrates me to see a person so deep in his own psychosis as to not understand what is going on. To be so lost that they cannot see how their own choices and actions have led them directly to where they are now.

I supposed this will all hinge on the second season for me, assuming that one is created. To see where Fielder ends up. Is he as cracked as the finale is suggesting, or was the flub just a momentary lapse and he will recover? Is his show just an extremely complicated personal experiment where he will learn something new and interesting about himself and the world around himself? Or did he just slide head first into the abyss and is now completely lost?

I think if he went through an enlightenment, taking all he learned and processing it, reflecting on it, and evolving as a person, I think I would be happy with that. This is essentually the path I have taken over the past ten years myself. And yes, it is true that I am being biased in my privileging of going through an enlightenment like this. But that is my privilege to assess the series in this way. As a piece of art, I connect with it in my own way.

On the other hand, I suspect the series is more likely to go in the opposite direction. Like social media, I expect the series to continue racing down into the darkness, convinced that if Fielder just holds out a little bit longer, his “Method” will eventually generate fruit. I imagine Fielder will simply push harder and raise the bar on the ridiculous until what little sense that is left is lost completely. The “precession of simulacra” completed in its entirety, and even cycled several more times just to be safe. As Baudrillard would suggest, until everything is left completely meaningless.

Fantasy and Reality

A past relationship partner I had once said I had a “rich fantasy life.” I think she was referring to the level of creativity and imagination I possessed. She suggested that I might be having issues separating what was fantasy from what was reality. That I spent too much time living in my own dream world. Today, I want to revisit what she was talking about, exploring more precisely what I think is going on.

What are “fantasy” and “reality?” It seems to me that reality is a term used to describe the way things are. Something that “matches up” with the way the world is, is reality. If I say that my glass is on my coffee table, I am describing reality because I am describing something that is the case of the world. At least, as far as I can tell, given that I could make mistakes and be in error.

Fantasy, it seems to me, is like a sort of opposite to reality. Fantasy is something that does not “match up” with the way the world is. If I say that my glass is under my coffee table, then I am not describing reality because it is not the case that my glass is under the table. Again, this is as far as I can tell, as I can always be mistaken about my observations of the world.

Fantasy and reality are certainly related to each other, especially in the examples I have given. In fact, it seems clear to me that fantasy can be turned into reality. I could physically take the glass from the table and place it underneath. Upon doing so, the fantasy has now become reality.

Does all fantasy have this quality? Can any fantasy be made reality through my efforts? This is a very difficult question to answer. I think that there are clear cases where this can be done, like my example of the glass under the table. But I also think there are seemingly clear cases where this cannot be done, like if I wanted to levitate or fly into the air. In the case of flying, I would have to further clarify that I’m talking about under my own efforts, because clearly I can board a plane or wear a jet pack and turn that fantasy into reality. In other words, the details matter.

If I had a fantasy that I could fly without outside assistance (without a vehicle or personal augmentation), that I could do so simply by thinking about it, then it seems much less likely to turn that fantasy into reality. I am sitting presently, thinking about and trying to will my body into the air, but it has yet to move. I am still stuck in my chair.

So there seems to be a range of fantasies, some of which can be made into realities, and some of which it seems incredibly unlikely that they will be made into reality. I think those things in the latter category are what my previous partner was thinking about when suggesting I had a “rich fantasy life.” For her, she was talking about things in my imagination that could never be realized in reality.

Why I have chosen to dwell on this distinction is that there are plenty of things that I call fantasy where the possibility of turning them into reality is quite unlikely. When the television series Star Trek first came out, introducing many people to the idea of a “communicator,” a wireless handheld device allowing nearly instantaneous communications between individuals at great distances from each other, it was clearly a fantasy as the time. Such things did not exist. But now, we have smartphones which connect to cellular towers and network to each other, allowing such wireless communications. That fantasy did become reality, it simply took a bit of time.

It is easy to suggest that the idea of a “communicator” could be made reality now, but I do not know if it was so easily perceived back then. There were no cellular phones when I was a child. Honestly, I was too young to consider these sorts of details. I dreamed of such communications devices, but I never really sat down and thought hard about whether those things might eventually become real. For me, it was simply a fantasy; clearly separated from my reality at the time.

Now, having lived as long as I have, my intellect having evolved and grown, I hold a stranger perspective on this topic. I recently had a fight/argument with my present partner about such things. I took a moment to describe to her what I believe: I believe that everything is possible, however, most things are incredibly unlikely, and improbable. That is, I believe that all fantasies can possibly be made into reality, but most fantasies will not.

To be more clear, my belief is that unicorns could exist. I believe it is possible that I could encounter one such fantastic creature when I leave my home later today. But I also believe the probability of such an event occurring is so incredibly improbable that I don’t expect it to occur. I do not make decisions in my day-to-day life expecting to encounter unicorns. I make decisions expecting that I will specifically never encounter unicorns. In other words, while I may believe something is possible, in the majority of cases those possibilities do not really affect how I live my day-to-day life.

Putting this another way, while I may have a “rich fantasy life,” I do not generally let my fantasies affect my reality. To be even more accurate, it isn’t that I don’t let my fantasies affect my reality, it is that I allow them to affect my reality based on how likely I consider them to be turned into reality. I see everything as a sort of probability matrix, where some events are incredibly likely, and others are incredibly unlikely. Those things that I consider to be likely to occur, I allow them to inform decision making and I prepare for them. Those things I consider unlikely to occur play very little role, if any, in my decisions and choices. I do not live my life expecting to encounter a unicorn.

In other words, for me, fantasy and reality are not as clearly cut as they seem to be for most people. For me, fantasy is something that describes how someone would like to see the world. In the case of the “communicator,” this is something people wanted to become true of our world. Those people spend a long time finding a way to make it into reality, and today we have smartphones. And I have no doubt there are people out there who truly wish unicorns were real; I suspect those people are honestly trying to make that a reality as well, though I expect them to be less successful.

For me, fantasy is a possible reality. Similar to the multiple timeline theory that is incredibly popular presently, especially in Marvel films. If there are infinite universes out there, then undoubtedly a fantasy in this universe will be a reality in another.

Perhaps more importantly, if a fantasy is a possible reality, then a fantasy is akin to an idea held by a person or people. As an idea, it is something that, given the right motivation, people might make efforts to turn into reality. The glass that sits upon my table can very easily be lifted and placed underneath the table, if I so wish it to be. My body is such that I am able to manipulate this reality in various ways as I desire. My body is a fantasy realizing machine. All it requires is for my mind to imagine a reality, and then my body can be utilized to turn that fantasy into a reality.

Seeing the world in this way, and especially seeing people in this way, really raises a lot of questions about what is going on. When Donald Trump says that the 2020 election was stolen, he has a fantasy he is trying to make into a reality. Clearly he has made a significant effort in this regard, with limited success. After all, there are plenty of other people out there who believe otherwise. Those other people resist changing reality into what Trump desires.

The fight I had with my partner specifically was whether the terrorist attacks of 911 were perpetrated by terrorists or by the American government. I recently watched a conspiracy theory video with a friend suggesting that it was the American government. I mentioned that I too believe it was orchestrated by the American government, though I came to this conclusion back in about 2002 based on my own observations at the time. This outraged my partner.

It wasn’t simply that I didn’t agree with her regarding this event. It was not like I didn’t like toast, when she did. A difference of opinion is one thing. She could not understand how I could possibly believe it was not terrorists. For her, I think, she could not (or perhaps would not) entertain the possibility that a group of people would organize themselves secretly in order to murder thousands of other people. Perhaps more specifically, that the American government would murder thousands of its own citizens for an economic or other goal. She just cannot see it. Honestly, I’m happy she cannot see such things.

Unfortunately, I can. And I can see much worse than that. I often struggle in this world because I see much worse happening all the time. Systemic prejudices and conditioning of masses of people. Why there are few women in engineering. Why industrial farming is considered acceptable. Why Donald Trump plays so much golf. My eyes are open to things I cannot close them from.

When I became aware of such things, I became paralyzed. I realized there was almost nothing I could do in this world without causing some kind of suffering. I was appalled with myself. I had to find a way to cope with it, lest I simply remove myself from the world. In a lot of ways, I should not be here at all.

But I found a coping mechanism. It is how I see the world. It is how my world view continues to evolve and grow. To see that everything is possible. To see that things can and do change. Over time. Sometimes it takes a long time.

I’m getting a bit ranty here. The point I wish to make is that I do not think fantasy and reality are as distant from each other as I used to. I no longer see them as being opposites, or part of some false dilemma. For me, fantasy is simply a way of expressing the ideas and desires I have about the world that are as yet unrealized. Through effort (sometimes great effort) I may be able to take fantasy and turn it into reality. I may be able to take my ideas and desires and reshape the world to match them. The world is the way it is, in part, because of me. And I can do something about it.

Fantasy Versus Reality

The other day, I ended up in a dispute with my partner over investment reporting. We have some money invested and when we receive the reports periodically, they may or may not provide information to us about what percent increase (or decrease) has occurred since our initial investment. Our dispute was related to both the availability of such information, as well as its accuracy. She believes the information should always be provided by the agent, and that that information is simple and reliable when presented. I believe the agent ought to offer it, but I recognize the complexity of such information and so I prefer to figure it out for myself.

It is not my intention in this post to go into the finer details and mathematics of calculating this sort of information. What I would like to focus on is the nature of what information the agent would provide. In particular, is such information real (and accurate and reliable) or merely fantasy (as in speculative and largely biased).

When I was younger, I heard someone say, “80 percent of all statistics are made up.” If you didn’t catch it immediately, this is a joke. The idea is that the statement itself is “made up,” and as such, the statistic it is purporting is also “made up.” The statement, ultimately, is entirely useless as it does not actually tell us anything useful. It is merely a joke.

However, there is some truth in this joke. Statistics is the area of mathematics concerned with taking data and analyzing that data to formulate potentially useful conclusions about it. In other words, one takes a large (often very large) pile of information (such as numbers), and they run through the data looking for various common things or different things. One can, for example, find the average of a group of numbers, which will tell them (very approximately) a sort of midpoint in the data set. Other popular midpoint finders include median and mode.

Here is a simple example:

Data Set: 5, 4, 3, 7, 6

Average: 5

In this case, 5 is clearly and easily the midpoint. All the numbers are relatively close in magnitude to 5 (within 2 in the most extreme case). Thus, the average seems to provide something useful in description of the data.

The reason there are many different methods utilized to find the midpoint is that depending on the nature of the data set itself, weird things can happen in the analysis. If within the set of numbers, there is one number that is significantly different, then the average may be pulled far in some direction, providing strange results. Here is another example:

Data Set: 5, 4, 3, 7, 6, 125

Average: 25

In this case, 25 is much less useful as the midpoint. Most of the data is hovering around 5, as demonstrated in the previous example. The single outlier has taken the average and pulled it violently away. The number 25 isn’t very helpful in describing the data anymore, though the result itself is technically accurately describing the average of the data.

Again, it is not my intent to dive into extensive mathematical proofs. But I hope that the simple examples make my point clear. It doesn’t take much to significantly change the results of a data analysis and provide vastly different results. All I did above was add a single new number to the data, and the average changed drastically.

This also leads to the main problem with statistics that most don’t think to consider: why did I choose to use average as my preferred method of analysis, as opposed to median, mode, or something else entirely? As the one performing the analysis, I necessarily have to select my tools and methods to perform my analysis. Which tools I decide to use affect the results, as does what part of the data I decide to utilize.

Selection of what part or parts of the data I will use is also a significant factor to consider. In the second example, clearly the value 125 is very unlike the other values and is having a significant affect on my result. I could simply remove the outlier, claiming it is an outlier and not representative of the rest of the data and then proceed with my analysis (which will result in it appearing the same as the first example). This sort of decision is not uncommon in statistics or science.

In both cases, the decision regarding which tools I utilize and the decision regarding which data I include, I have fulfilled the requirements of statistical analysis. I may be asked to provide good reasons for my choices, but the making of those choices is mine to make. Furthermore, this also places the responsibility upon others to question my choices. If no one questions or challenges my choices, then my results will stand very nicely.

In the argument with my partner, my point was that if the agent will provide us with a rating of the interest our investments accumulated, I would ask for details regarding how that number was attained. Unfortunately, this is not usually made very clear by agents. Often, when I have raised this question, I get pages of statistical analysis that by itself is challenging and time consuming to sort through. I sometimes wonder if they are simply trying to confuse me with large information, in the same way as one confuses by using big words when they talk. Makes them sound more intelligent than they may actually be.

I would also relate this to my anxiety when I observe companies “graciously” offering to shop around on my behalf, ensuring that I get the “lowest price” on an item. Why do those companies compare against the specific other companies that they choose to compare themselves against? Like a commercial which says their product beats the leading brand, and then you see in the fine print that the “leading brand” is simply their own lesser product. By making crafty choices, the companies are rigging the game in their own favor. As a crafty consumer, it is up to me to raise the questions back to them to tease out something of the truth.

Which brings me to the point I was wanting to raise at the beginning. Statistical analysis is a form of fiction. It looks a lot like the truth, but certainly bears some difference. How much difference is highly dependent on the choices made by those performing the analysis. The choices themselves are not objective, they are subjective, forming the foundation of the fiction being generated. They are a form of fantasy.

But most fantasy does have some relationship with the real. The centaur is a mythical creature based on the ideas of a horse and a man merged. Horses and men are real things. In the same way, the results of statistical analysis is a fantasy based on a real thing as well (based of the very real data that has been analyzed). It can sometimes be difficult to remember this fact.

This too, I think, is the source of many simulacra. Science and statistics both provide innumerable examples of these sorts of fictions, which become the basis of other fictions, and so on. If it is forgotten the original source of these things, then they simply become symbols of symbols of symbols…

It is certainly unreasonable for any person to keep track of every single fact in existence. I have to depend on the amalgamated “facts” that come from science and statistics, and other places. I myself have not performed the calculations required to predict the weather, but I still listen to the weatherperson, and I still do plan my day around what they say. In that way, I am adopting a fiction into my list of “facts.” I am accepting a fantasy as part of my reality.

But I try to always remember where my data is coming from. To acknowledge and appreciate that there are likely errors (sometimes significant ones) in my “facts.” To be wary that sometimes those errors have been placed there intentionally by various parties with a vested interest in affecting my choices and decisions. To always be aware that my world is heavily mediated, and that almost everything I know is, in truth, simply a variation of fantasy. As Immanuel Kant suggested in his Critique of Pure Reason, I have no direct connection to the real world.

The Rarity of Free Will

What could possess me to make another post so quickly? An epiphany. A revelation. Many years in the making. The adjusted belief that perhaps freedom does exist, but it is simply so very rare.

In the beginning, about when I was in high school, I started to doubt the ideas of free will. More specifically, the idea of an effect without a cause. I would play Dungeons & Dragons with my friends, and I considered the randomness of rolling a die. When one throws the cube, it bounces around before settling down with one of its six faces showing up toward the person. The epitome of random. But is it really?

In high school, I took physics classes, and perhaps it was due to my novel education that I considered the situation carefully. Were I to know the precise velocity that the die was released, the effects of the atmosphere on the cube as it flew through the air, the imperfections in the surface as it struck down, the coefficients of friction, and all of the various minutia of the events, using a bit of math I could probably predict which face would end up showing. Sure, to know all of these details may not be feasible; I am merely human with limited capacities. But if I could have somehow acquired all of this knowledge, I feel quite confident I could do it. I could predict this random event.

But that becomes a contradiction, does it not? Part of what is baked into the definition of random is that it is unpredictable. To be truly random, no amount of knowledge should ever be sufficient to perform such a calculation. Certainly there is a conflict here. Either my idea is incorrect, or there are not as many random events in our universe as I believed. In fact, what if there are no random events at all?

I’ve been working on computers for most of my life. Computers can generate random numbers, can’t they? Well, as it turns out, no they cannot. The algorithms used by computers to provide seemingly random information can be exceedingly creative, running up against the feasibility concern I’ve raised above. But the results are still not truly or purely random. The use of seemingly unpredictable events from the outside environment (the passage of time, the manner in which I move my mouse, the choice and patterns I employ when utilizing my keyboard, etc) are called entropy and are used to seed the random number generators in our favorite electronic devices. It’s random, but really, it’s not.

There is a marked difference between something that is entirely unpredictable because no amount of knowledge could ever be acquired to predict a result, and something that could be predicted given enough time and effort. The question I posed to a philosophy group this past summer was to suggest that were I God, with an omniscient and omnipotent nature, the feasibility issue might be overlooked. God, I said, could predict these unpredictable events. Unfortunately for me, the suggestion of being God simply overshadowed any attempt at a reasonable discussion after that point.

However, this is the point I am making. For something to be truly random, even God would not be able to predict the outcome. If God could predict the outcome, then it isn’t truly random. Does true randomness exist in our universe? Or does everything bow down to the law of causality, with every single effect being caused by some other event? It seems impossible for us to ever determine such a thing.

If I exist in a hard deterministic universe, where all things follow causality, then there seems to be another very serious problem. There are other things I cherish and value that seem impossible. True creativity seems impossible as well; anything I may want to call creative is simply the reorganization and reassembly of other past things. Perhaps I might want to include the idea of accidents promoting creativity, but as with the previous discussion of randomness, accidents are simply expected events that may not feasibly be predicted either.

Freedom is another such thing. I am speaking of the sort of freedom that includes unpredictability as part of its description. The sort of freedom that I assume God would have, and that I hope I too have. The free will that allows me to break out of a purely deterministic universe by injecting something like an uncaused cause into the mix. If true randomness and true creativity cannot be, then neither can true freedom it seems.

I told my own mother my discovery one day, telling her that I could not believe in free will. Fate, I said, must be how things operate (using the term as I wasn’t aware of the term deterministic at the time). Her response was both passionate and quite surprising to me. “Go step in front of a moving bus,” she said, “if what you say is true, then you will not be harmed.” I was shocked. Of course I would be harmed I told her, but the discussion simply became ridiculous. I could not, for the longest time, understand why she had suggested such a thing.

Later, I realized that what she was suggesting wasn’t quite the same thing as I am discussing here. For her, I think I sounded pompous and arrogant. Like perhaps I felt I had divine protection and influence, or some other equally unlikely blessing. I think I understood the reactions Joe Bauers in Idiocracy was receiving from people after having been frozen for 500 years. Like Joe, I was not trying to impress or sound special. I was simply stating things as I understood them. Communications can be quite challenging at times.

As a result of that interaction with my own mother, I decided it would be best to broach the subject differently going forward. I would say that I don’t believe in free will, but I am open to the possibility. If ever someone was able to convince me of the possibility, I would take the argument seriously.

Fast forward now to the years of the pandemic. Marvel releases the television show Loki. In the Marvel Cinematic Universe, there is a multiverse. That is, there is not one universe but many. There is not one me, but many, each just a little bit different than the others. In each case, the differences are typically caused by my exercising of my free will. When an event occurs whereby I can choose between more than one option, in truth I actually choose ALL options. Each option I choose forks the universe into another parallel universe. In one of these universes I chose the vanilla ice cream, but in another I chose chocolate.

One issue I found with the show was that there seemed not to be as many Nexus events (these free will events that fork the timeline) as I would have expected. After all, I am faced with numerous free will choices every day. Possibly each hour, minute, or even second. The administration of the timeline, trying to address the multitude of Nexus events caused by me alone would be untenable, let along that there are literally billions upon billions of other individuals with free will causing as many other Nexus events across time and space. So, in the show, why are there only a few at a time? The Time Variance Authority (TVA) seems pretty calm, simply sending out their teams occasionally to address these problem events.

The show never addresses my concern, but I have a theory: perhaps the reason Nexus events are so rare is that free will is not so prevalent as I would like to think. What if I am not expressing a free will when selecting between ice cream flavours, as my selection perhaps follows a more predictable structure due to my preferences and past experiences. If this is true, it may even be possible that not all individuals are even capable of expressing a free will. Perhaps free will is an extremely rare occurrence.

The Loki television show may have sparked this thought process, but it has been the immanent release of The Matrix Resurrections that has truly pushed my mind to think about this outside the box. Specifically, not the upcoming film itself, but rethinking about the previous films.

In particular, a person on Reddit posted a question regarding what would happen if two people inside the Matrix were to mate and have offspring. They wondered whether the offspring would be a computer program or somehow connected to a physical human outside the Matrix. Initially I laughed, but then I thought about it, and the question is absolutely brilliant. The answer is both surprising and depressing at the same time.

The Matrix is a simulation. Any individual who connects to the simulation will experience their own personal perspective of the simulation. While the simulation can offer the opportunity for individuals to interact with other individuals within the simulation, ultimately the bulk of any one person’s experience is being provided by the simulation itself. The simulation is what controls the environment and all things that the individual can interact with. If a bird flies by, the simulation will control that bird (unless the bird is an occupant jacked into the simulation, which is likely not occurring very often, especially in the storyline of The Matrix).

The answer to the above question is that any offspring would be a product of the simulation. The offspring would be a program, or part of the simulation’s program. Simply code. Similarly, if a physical baby human is born and immediately connected to the simulation, the simulation itself will have to provide virtual parents and all the other necessary elements to attend to the new life. Even if one thinks for a moment that those running the simulation might decide to take a moment to try and find appropriately similar parents or children to connect to the strange virtual relationship, aside from the most ridiculously complicated procedure that would render the simulation untenable, they would be mistaken. If the point of the Matrix is to sedate the occupants of the simulation in order to facilitate leaching energy off those occupants, a process attempting to maintain the connections between the occupants in this manner would use up all the available energy acquired in the process. It wouldn’t make any sense, because it is unreasonable. It isn’t feasible.

In other words, most of the “players” in the simulation must necessarily be controlled by the simulation and not be occupants. What is often refereed to in games as Non Player Characters or NPCs. There would be far more NPCs in any simulation than individuals connected to it. In fact, it would even make sense for there to be only one individual to be in simulation, with ALL other individuals being NPCs. To be in simulation is to enter into a sort of solipsism.

To further expand on this situation, consider the possibility that I am in simulation presently. It has been suggested that if a civilization develops the capacity to perform ultra realistic simulations, they are likely to run many, many such simulations. And if there are so many simulations in existence, the likelihood is quite high that I am within one of these simulations. To have so many simulations seems quite similar to the description of a multiverse.

If the probability is high that I am in simulation, then it is similarly high that any individual I encounter is an NPC. In fact, yes, it is also possible I am such an NPC as well. In any case, even if I am not an NPC, there are still going to be an incredibly high number of NPCs in this universe I find myself in. I could possibly be the only non NPC as well.

Finally, if I make the assumption that an NPC will NOT have free will, then I can now explain why free will would be so incredibly rare. With so few non NPCs in existence, even across so many simulated universes, the number of Nexus events in the Loki television show would be quite small and very manageable. And in my “real world” that I occupy right this moment, I can provide a reasonable explanation as to why free will itself would be so incredibly rare, to the point that it may not even exist.

In Simulation

The new Matrix film is nearly upon us, and so my partner and I are watching all the previous films and supplementary material. An important part of this process is discussing the films after viewing, sharing the various revelations we have that we may have missed on previous viewings. It speaks to the quality of the original story that we continue having revelations and epiphanies even 20 years later.

My latest revelation is one that is raising some rather disturbing questions regarding the story and regarding how consciousness operates in our real world. I might even suggest it is a weakness in my previous arguments regarding consciousness thus far. The issue of what it means to be “in simulation.”

Of course, before I can even talk about being “in simulation,” I will have to discuss what a simulation is. As it turns out, trying to elucidate the idea of a simulation caused a rather heated debate between my partner and I. We cannot agree what a simulation is. And so, in this post, I will be primarily focused on my interpretation. I will try to share her interpretation, but the honest truth is that I don’t really understand her interpretation.

I have spoken before about identity and of the world. My identity is what I (and others) consider to be what constitutes me. The “I” when I say I. In some sense, my identity is what separates what is me from the rest of the world, and from others. Which brings us to the idea of the world. The world is that which is not me, and very generally what is not others. You are not the world, but you are a part of the world, just as I am a part of the world as well.

However, the world also includes that which is not a part of you or me. The world, in some sense, can exist without either of us. The world (we generally believe) can and will persist even when I cease to exist. Furthermore, the world contains objects that both you and I can observe and generally agree upon. We can both see the same objects, albeit from slightly different perspectives. And so, very generally, the world is the same for me as it is for you. At least, this is a significant assumption I make about the world. And I believe most people make a very similar assumption, even if they are not aware they are making this assumption.

A simulation is also a world, though not the “real” world. The world we presently inhabit, I believe, most will agree is considered to be the “real” world. This blog, this website, is a part of the “real” world. This blog is not necessarily a part of a simulation. Having said all this, I will acknowledge that as I continue this discussion, questions may be raised regarding the integrity of this.

A simulation is loosely based on the “real” world, and will be a lesser version of it. That is, a simulation will bear some resemblance to the “real” world in some way, and may even share some elements of it. However, a simulation will always be absent some of the elements of the “real” world as well. This is a large reason we will call it a simulation. A simulation, in some sense, is a straw man argument of the “real” world.

Like the “real” world, a simulation is governed by rules and laws. Or, as my partner has pointed out, perhaps not so much governed by as perhaps explained by. For example, in the “real” world there appears to be some sort of attractive force that acts upon all bodies. We often refer to this force as gravity. We even have various mathematical formulas we use to predict how gravity will affect various bodies, and we use science in order to validate these formulas as best we can. Gravity is a sort of governing rule of the “real” world.

A simulation can include gravity, though it does not necessarily have to. The rules of the simulation may be similar to the rules of the “real” world, or they may be vastly different. What both the simulation and the “real” world share is the fact that there are these rules or laws. Navigating a simulation can be done in a similar fashion to navigating in the “real” world; an understanding of these rules is what is required. If I understand how gravity operates (at least on some rudimentary level), then I can navigate through a world governed by gravity.

The point of all this pedantic examination is that a simulation will bear some resemblance to the “real” world. In the case of the Matrix from the films, the Matrix is a simulation that bears a lot of similarities to the “real” world. However, as the character Mouse points out in the first film, it is possible the machines (who created the simulation of the Matrix) could have either accidentally or intentionally made errors:

“How did the machines really know what Tasty Wheat tasted like. huh?. Maybe they got it wrong. Maybe what I think Tasty Wheat tasted like actually tasted like oatmeal or tuna fish. That makes you wonder about a lot of things. You take chicken for example, maybe they couldn’t figure out what to make chicken taste like, which is why chicken tastes like everything.”

While the machines may have correctly or incorrectly represented Tasty Wheat or chicken, the point is that these humans who are now discussing what their “single cell protein combined with synthetic aminos, vitamins, and minerals” actually tastes like are basing their assessment on information they have received from a simulated reality that they acknowledge may have provided them misinformation. In the end, in truth, they have no idea what their meal tastes like, only that it has a taste.

This is one of the critical issues with the idea of simulation and of simulacra. The information we receive from our interactions with any particular world are what we use to recognize and understand the elements of that world. This is the heart of the arguments made by the Empiricists of the 18th century; that all knowledge is based on experience. What they may not have concerned themselves with as much is the reliability of the world that provided them that experience.

Which brings us to the heart of my own discussion here. What does it mean to be “in simulation?” More specifically, what is happening when we are in simulation? In the story, when someone is in the Matrix, does their mind or consciousness or soul leave their body and exist within the Matrix? Or does their mind remain within their body, and the simulation is simply altering the interface one has with their world, hijacking their senses and replacing those experiences with alternate ones?

As I write these words, it seems obvious what the answer ought to be. In the case of the film, as seems to be presented, human minds exist in human bodies, and connecting to the Matrix does not somehow separate the two. A physical cable is connected to the brain stem, and all the sensory input normally fed to the brain by the rest of the body is replaced by alternative sensory information provided by the simulation. Morpheus rightly inquires: “What is real? How do you define real? If you’re talking about what you can feel, what you can smell, what you can taste and see, then real is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain.” It does not matter the source of those signals, the brain will interpret whatever signals it receives.

The problem raised by the story is that if all of your senses have been hijacked, then you might not be aware that the world you think you are in is in fact a fabrication. You might be in simulation, and not know it. The issue my partner and I debated was whether one could be in simulation and still know they were in simulation.

The manner in which our debate manifested raised an even more insidious issue: where does one’s mind or consciousness reside while in simulation? For me, it seemed obvious: the mind continues to reside where it always seems to reside, in the body in the “real” world. However my partner did not agree. For her, while in simulation, the mind or consciousness left the body and resided in the simulation itself, inside the simulated body. Which case is true can have significant ramifications on events that follow.

As Morpheus suggests, the body cannot live without the mind. Therefore, the mind must necessarily remain within the body at all times, lest the body die. If this is true, then the mind remains in the body in the “real” world. But if this is how it works, then why would unplugging the cable that connects the physical body to the Matrix cause anything bad to happen? How did Apoc and Switch die? If the mind is always in the body, then disconnecting a cable should cause no issues for the individual, as their mind and body remain intact. Only the connection to the simulation is severed, which would seem to merely end the simulation for the individual. They should have simply woken like from a dream.

The alternative is equally problematic. If the mind in fact does leave the body and enter the Matrix, then the body is without a mind and ought to expire. Clearly, within the story, this does not happen. So if minds can successfully be separated from bodies, then Morpheus must be mistaken. Bodies can exist and continue without minds, perhaps on some sort of life support. However, if this is now the case, then how does anything that happens with the mind while it is disconnected from the body affect the body. How can the mind make real such things as injuries?

My partner and I did come up with another alternative that could explain what is going on. What if the mind does not entirely leave the body? What if the mind is sort of tethered to the body, so that a part of the mind remains with the body but a part of the mind enters the Matrix? This would resolve a number of issues, including how the mind makes things real for the body. This tether is what is maintained through the physical cabling that is connected to the brain stem. Severing the tether would be akin to lobotomy, which could then be severe enough to end a person’s life.

In some fashion, the mind is in both places at the same time. Both in the “real” world and at the same time in simulation. If we think of the mind in the “real” world and the mind in simulation as being two parts, then they could be considered connected like in quantum entanglement. I admit, this sort of view of the mind seems incredibly unsatisfying for me. It reminds me of René Descartes’s pineal gland.

In our “real” world, we really have very little understanding of minds or consciousnesses. What we can suggest is that minds and consciousnesses are very unlike bodies or other physical objects. One cannot crack open someone’s head and look at their thoughts. In fact, if you consider how a closed-circuit television (CCTV) system operates, there is nothing that guarantees that the mind exists within a body at all. The mind and consciousness could exist elsewhere entirely. Only the apparent localization created by the position of the various sensory inputs suggests that the mind ought to exist within the physical body.

Without the ability to experience what others experience, I cannot say much about experiences other than my own. What I can say is that when I have dreamed, I have had dreams where I was convinced that the reality of the dream was the “real” world. Only after I awoke from those dreams did I realize my error, and then acknowledged that the dream was in fact a dream and not real. I have also been so immersed in various experiences, such a watching a very engrossing film or a very intense video game, that I momentarily forgot that the world of the immersion was not the same as the “real” world.

In every case (so far) I can say that once I finished or left the simulation, I realized that it was a simulation. Once I had escaped, I felt that I knew with confidence what was “real.” But that only really suggests one thing: that in order to know that something is not real, I have to leave it into something that is more real. In other words, the only reason I have to suggest this is the real world presently is that I have not yet experiences a more real world.

Simulacra

It is time to elucidate my concept of simulacra. In reviewing Jean Baudrillard‘s version of simulacra, I realize that my perspective (while heavily influenced by his perspective) is probably not quite the same. My original intention today was to discuss his perspective, and then try to related it back to my ongoing topics. However, I realize now that the better approach is to discuss my perspective instead.

In short, for me a simulacra is akin to an imperfect copy of something whereby the original being copied no longer exists, and those who view the copy no longer realize the copy is a copy. There is a lot going on in this description, so I will break it down into parts and discuss each aspect individually.

The first aspect of a simulacra is that it is, in fact, a copy of something else. That is, at some point, in some distant way, the simulacra is related to something real. I will call this real thing the “original.” The original does or did exist. The original was a real thing, observed or experienced. The original is real, in some fashion.

However, the connection between the copy and the original is somehow disrupted. Perhaps the copy bears so little resemblance to the original that one is unable to connect the two together. Perhaps the original has been lost, through time and decay. Perhaps the original has been forgotten. Somehow, the connection between the copy and the original has been lost, so that the copy is all that remains to discuss, without an original to related it to.

The last aspect, which is critically important, is that the copy is no longer regarded as a copy. That is, for the observer, the copy is its own thing in reality. The copy possesses signification and meaning in itself without needing to relate back to the original. Without the knowledge that the copy is, in fact, a copy of something else, it becomes regarded as an original in its own right. This, for me, is when it becomes the simulacra.

This description belies a major problem: if no one knows the copy is a copy and is regarding the copy as its own original, real thing, then how does one come to realize it is a simulacra in the first place? After all, if we all believe the thing is real and original, then we would not suspect its dubious nature as simulacra. This is the point for me. This is the reason I consider the situation significant and in some sense malicious.

The best way to discuss this concept is going to be by discussing examples of simulacra. Due to their very nature, those examples I now present will be wrought with controversy. This will be because I cannot provide “hard evidence” to support my claims. If the evidence existed, then the examples wouldn’t be of simulacra, but instead of known artificial copies of things.

The example I most often raise in discussions of late is of gender. I believe gender is a simulacra. Gender, as I see it, is an imperfect copy of sex. Sex, being the physical description of a living entity, often incorrectly delineated as being either male or female, is a flawed manner used to describe certain aspects and traits of an entity. A male is usually considered to be the portion of the population that has the masculine sexual characteristics; in humans, this would include such things as the possession of a penis, testicles, and a significant amount of facial hair growth. A female is usually considered to be the portion of the population that has the feminine sexual characteristics; in humans, this would include such things as the possession of a uterus, ovaries, and a significant lack of facial hair growth. A problem should be apparent in such descriptions, as there are entities that can exhibit both or neither sets of characteristics. What sex is a person with both a penis and a uterus? I will not probe further into this inquiry, as my interest is in gender, but it should be clear that if gender is an imperfect copy of sex, it will inherit many of these problematic qualities.

Gender, as I understand it, is a way to clarify the problematic situation of sex. Gender, unlike sex, is not predominately focused on physical characteristics, though physical characteristics will influence an entities initially determined gender. That is, an entity whose sex is considered male, is likely to have their gender considered male as well. Similarly, an entity of sex female is usually considered of gender female as well. However, in our modern times, there are definitely those who are of sex male but of gender female (often a trans woman), and of sex female and gender male (often a trans man). One whose sex and gender match are usually referred to as being cis gendered, while those whose sex and gender do not match are usually referred to as being trans gendered. These are very broad descriptions, and I’m sure there will be those who can find fault with them, but I am trying to simplify something very complicated in my discussion to present my point.

In the ways I have described above, gender clearly has a relationship with sex. However, sex itself is problematic, and human societies have often attempted to reduce sex to a false dilemma in order to accomplish some, unknown to me, agenda. It will frequently be said that there are only males and females, and anything else does not exist. Sometimes it will be said that males and females make up the dominant portion of a human population, and the non binary component is in great minority. I do not know what to think about this, as I suspect the amount of the non binary population is far greater than we are led to believe. This is where gender steps in.

Gender, in its greater artificiality, can claim the false dilemma much more strongly as it is not focused on physical characteristics. To say one’s gender is male is to suggest that they possess certain characteristics that are expressed by their behaviors and temperaments. A man is masculine: he likes sports, he likes cars, he is loud, and he drinks beer. A woman is feminine: she likes children and small animals, she likes cooking and cleaning, she is quiet, and she drinks wine. These characterizations are just that: characterizations. They are also very much artificial. The descriptions of man and woman a century ago would likely be quite different. In fact, the description I just provided is technically about 30 years old, as the current descriptions are likely different still.

When you hear someone tell another to “be a man,” you are witnessing the called individual being shamed into conforming to whatever the currently established characterization of “man” is. Perhaps he isn’t fulfilling his responsibilities, something a man would do. Perhaps he isn’t drinking beer. It could be any number of things. Similarly, to be called “a woman” bears similar connotation. This sort of shaming is highly suggestive of the source of gender. Unlike sex, where the source of the description is focused on physical characteristics which are incredibly difficult to alter, with gender, the source of the description is on aspects that should be relatively easily changed.

For example, my friends told me that I ought to enjoy drinking beer as I am considered of gender male by them. I do not like beer, and regardless of the expectations put upon me, I refuse to consume it. In an attempt to get me to consume it anyway, I was told by one of them that no men really like beer, they just learn to like it over time. Whether he was correct or not, I believe he was attempting to get me to conform to the established description of the gender I am supposed to belong to. It wasn’t important whether my personal preferences or characteristics actually matched my gender assignment, what was important was that I conformed to it anyway. As one who has gender male, I am supposed to like beer; if I happen to not like beer, I need to change until I conform to my assigned gender.

The problem with gender is that it is not a reflection of my attributes, it is a guide to the attributes I ought to possess. Sex, it can be argued, is at least reflective of a reality: I have physical characteristics and my sex is a reflection of those characteristics. Gender, on the other hand, is an established set of characteristics I am meant to adopt as my own. Those of gender male are supposed to like beer, therefore I ought to learn to like beer. If I do not demonstrate a liking for beer, then I am to be shamed and pressured until such time as I start to exhibit those desired traits.

This is how gender becomes a simulacra. It is not actually associated to a reality. I never liked beer. If one goes far enough into history, before there is a history that we can properly trace, can it be shown that men have always enjoyed beer? What about before beer even was invented? The gender of male became associated with the liking of beer through the ages, by mechanisms I know not of. To be a man means to like beer. To drink beer is a manly thing to do.

I have focused on this one aspect and example, but I hope it is clear this applies to so many more. Like how the gender of woman includes such characteristics as wearing make up, dresses, and liking to cook. If a woman today does not exhibit these characteristics, she is shamed and pressured until she does. This is how human society works.

Therefore, gender is something that is an imperfect copy of something else (sex), but has lost its connection to the original (it no longer reflects a reality, instead creating a reality). Gender is its own thing. Gender is itself real, and we are meant to conform to it. But gender also does not reflect any sort of reality itself. Think about it. How does one’s fondness for a beverage relate to anything about that person, other than their preferences. One cannot say that a person who likes beer is also a person who likes cars; to do so is to perform a stereotyping upon the person. Like relating the hue of one’s skin to their intelligence, it makes absolutely no sense at all.

In these ways, I believe gender is a simulacra, and an insidious one at that. After one is born, they are assigned a sex based on their characteristics. Immediately after this assessment is made, their gender is assigned to match their assigned sex. And it is their gender that is used to instruct that individual’s upbringing. They are trained and conditioned to like wearing dresses if female, or pants if male. They are trained to cut their hair short if they are male and long if they are female. They are trained to fix machines if they are male and raise babies if they are female. Wearing blue if they are male, and pink if they are female.

I hope this all makes sense so far. In my next post I will bring social media into this mess, and try to demonstrate how social media is also a simulacra. How individuals who create profiles of themselves (copies) in social media, end up trying to reflect their profiles instead of allowing their profiles to be a reflection of themselves.

What is “Real?”

Before I can really dive into simulacra and social media, I need to take a moment to discuss something I brought up in my last post. The challenge to determine what is “real.” While I may want to believe this should be obvious, as the last post suggested, this is not the case.

I will begin by lumping some other ideas in with this idea of the “real.” There is the idea of what is “true.” There is also this idea of what is “I,” the pronoun used to describe what I consider to be myself. These ideas all have something very much in common: while I feel confident I have a solid grasp on them, so that I use them constantly in my day-to-day life, it turns out when pushed, I cannot for the life of me explain what exactly they are.

In the case of “I,” it seems like what makes up me is what is not outside me. That is, if I assume the existence of the world, then I am not the world. If I suggest the universe is made up of me and the world, then I might suggest that I am the part of the universe that is not the world, and vice versa. However, this quickly devolves if I considered how my body sheds cells and molecules constantly. I consume parts of the world, taking them into myself and using those pieces to generated more of myself. Later, I will shed parts of myself and those pieces will again become part of the world. I am my own personal Ship of Theseus, bringing with it the same challenges to identity.

This line of reasoning holds until I raise the question of the unmeasurable. That is, if all that I am is these molecules, the billions upon billions of them that constitute my cells and body parts, then the Ship of Theseus thought experiment seems to hold true. However, what if there is something more? What if there is a part of me that is not merely these molecules, something unmeasurable? Then what is me may not be as simple.

The intention of this post is not to focus on identity issues, so I won’t dive any deeper into this topic for now. But I hope my point is clear. To explain myself in a way that is clear, to describe myself in a way that delineates me and only me, and not anything else, is quickly becoming a rather challenging endeavor.

The idea of what is “true” is similarly challenging. For my discussion, trying to explain what is true has a strong linkage to what is “real” as well. In fact, part of what I believe most people would want to say about truth has to do with what is real. The explanation I chose to go with in my previous post was to suggest that truth is in some way matching up with how reality is, and reality is what matches up with what we all, collectively, agree to.

That last statement probable raised some hairs, so I will elaborate more. When I utter something, you will likely want to say that what I’ve uttered is true or false, but how do you decide? If possible, you are likely to look to your world and verify my claim, comparing it to your experience of the world. If I suggest that the sky is blue, you will look to the sky and see for yourself if the sky really is blue. If it is, you will say that I uttered a truth. If I instead said the sky was green, you are likely to suggest I uttered a falsehood, as the sky is not green.

Immediately there is a problem with all of this. For a truth assessment to be made, there needs to be something to assess the statement against. Something like facts and evidence. However, there are many, many things I might utter that you will be unable to verify in any way. For example, if I utter “what I see when I look up at the sky appears green to me,” you will have no recourse. You cannot say whether that statement is true because you have no access to my experiences. You could look at the sky and compare your experience to mine, but that would not tell you if my statement were true or not. It would only provide you a possible correlation to my experience.

This is where the idea of “my truth” comes from. The idea is that my perspective on the world, and my experience of the world, is mine and mine alone. No one else can experience the world as I do, and so what is true for me is indisputable. It is my truth that the sky appears green to me, and no one can verify my claim either way. And there are a great many better examples I can give than simply my experience of the sky.

This brings us to the idea of the “real.” For me, what counts as real is a personal experience. I assess when reality is real, and when it is not. This is not to say I cannot be deceived or make errors in my assessment; only that it is ultimately up to me what makes up what is real. What is more, if I do make an error, I have to come to the conclusion that I came to an error on my own; no one can tell me I made an error. To be more accurate, others can tell me I made an error, but I will not necessarily believe them; I have to believe I’ve made an error myself before I will see beyond my assessment of the real.

It is a messy business determining for one’s self what is real, what is true, or who one is. It requires a great deal of effort. It can even be painful. This is why I believe so many people defer these sorts of judgments to others. It is much easier to simply allow others to dictate the answers to these questions than to work tirelessly one’s self to determine the answers. This problem is further compounded when groups of people decide to collaborate their efforts together, often with an aim to convince those around them to their side. From what I’ve seen, this appears to be the job of main stream religions, as well as modern commercialism.

I hope that it is apparent to you at this point that I have spoken very little about science and the universe. Not that these things are unimportant, especially in a discussion about what is true or real. What I want to emphasize here is that what science tells us about what is true or real is unfortunately quite biased. And this is what also brings us to Jean Baudrillard‘s simulacra.

I will go into much more detail regarding simulacra in my next post. For now, I will simply say that a simulacra is something like an imperfect copy. Initially, the copy is of something real, but over time the copy no longer refers back to the thing copied. Where there may have originally been a linkage between the copy and the real, no linkage exists any longer. Like if you photocopied a piece of paper over and over repeatedly; eventually what came out of the photocopier would not look at all like the original.

The significance of the simulacra with science is the very same. Science is a process. It was first used long ago by the likes of Aristotle, nearly 2500 years ago, though he never used the term “science” back then. Science is about taking something, like a procedure, and repeating that procedure endlessly. To run an experiment, and to see what the result is. If I run that same experiment repeatedly, do I get the same result each time? How about if others run the same experiment I did, do they get the same result? It is about agreement and consistency. And it is about reality.

However, if you and I and many other people all run this same experiment and we all observe the same results, does that mean we have found a truth? Does it actually tell us something about reality? It was believed that all swans were white for a very long time, until one day a black swan was discovered. It was believed that the Earth was flat for a very long time, even when there were people out there fighting to suggest it was round. It is interesting to me that even today, there are still people who argue that the Earth is flat.

If one follows pure logic, and deductive reasoning, one can feel very, very confident in the results of such experiments. If I assume that Socrates is a man, and that all men are mortal, then I can be very, very confident that Socrates is mortal. However, note that I made 2 important assumptions at the outset: that Socrates is a man, and that all men are mortal. Were either of these assumptions shown to be untrue, my conclusion suddenly looses its veracity.

Science, like so many things, begins with assumptions. So long as we can agree that those assumptions are good assumptions, then what follows can be trusted. But we cannot prove an assumption. Circular reasoning cannot be used. To say that God exists because it is stated so in the holy scripture that He Himself wrote is circular reasoning; the evidence neither proves nor disproves his existence. It simply provides no meaningful information.

What is real is an assumption. It is clearly a critically important assumption that we all must make. Even if we do not do so consciously, our actions and choices will be a reflection of that assumption. When I walk across the floor of my kitchen, I have assumed that the floor is a real thing, trusting it to support my weight and allow me to get to the door I wish to go through. I’ve made the assumption, even if it isn’t obvious.

This is the key to everything, in my mind. Not to suggest our assumptions are necessarily bad assumptions; but to recognize that we are making assumptions. When we fail to recognize the assumptions we make, we mistake confidence for certainty. We take something that we are 99% certain about and make it into something we are 100% certain about. In general, this may not seem like a dangerous choice to make, but if we continue to make this assumption repeatedly, over and over, taking the results of one experiment as the assumptions of the next, we will end up with something that does not match up at all with the original. We will end up with a simulacra of reality.

The Matrix Resurrections: Trailer, Part 3

I’m dying to move on to another topic that has recently caught my interest: social media and simulacra. However, before I do, I would like to conclude my discussion of the latest Matrix film trailer, and more to the point, ideas raised by the previous three films that may prove quite significant in this latest film.

The last idea I wish to discuss is related to the theory that perhaps leaving the Matrix does not actually result in the removal from a simulation. Some have referred to this idea as being like an “inception” theory of the Matrix. I do not believe this is what is going on in the Matrix story, and now I will discuss why I think this way. As always, be aware there are very likely spoilers about to be discussed, as particular details of the story are a part of this discussion.

To begin this discussion, I will put aside the Matrix story itself, and talk about simulation theory in general. For those unfamiliar, simulation theory is the theory that we all exist in some sort of simulated reality. That is to say, the real world is not real, in some way. I keep suggesting a vagueness in what I say because it isn’t entirely clear what one might mean by “real world,” and therefore it is challenging to suggest what might “not be real.” This is a very challenging idea, so I will elaborate more on this.

What is reality? What is “the world?” There is a philosophical idea called solipsism, which suggests that one cannot be certain that anything at all can exist outside one’s mind. That is, following from René Descartes Meditations, there is virtually nothing we can be certain about. For Descartes, he suggested that my own existence is one of the very, very few things I might be able to be certain of, and suggested it in the phrase “I think; I am.” That is, when I utter the statement “I think,” or if I even conceive of the idea that I am thinking (like in the case that I think the thought “I think”), there must be something doing this thinking. Ergo, the thing that is thinking (in this case “I”) must necessarily exist in order to do the action of thinking. If this logic holds, then “I” must necessarily exist. Hence “I think; I am.”

There is a whole line of philosophical thought that follows this sort of logical reasoning, called Phenomenology, where it is believed that by following this sort of reasoning, we can be absolutely certain about many, many things. Unfortunately, the logical process that is allegedly required in order to accomplish this is exceedingly difficult to understand and follow, and the person responsible for trying to lay the process down (Edmund Husserl) never had the chance to finish his work.

Returning now to the question at hand, what is reality? I think most people would generally agree with me in suggesting that reality is something like that which exists in spite of us. That is, the world is somehow outside and separate from us. The world can exist even if we do not. The world can exist, even if I do not exist. The world is in some sense objective, where I am subjective. What makes the world so important is that the world presents a bridge between myself and other possible consciousnesses.

Reality, then, is the world as occupied by myself and possibly others. Reality is populated by the world and (hopefully) many consciousnesses. Those consciousnesses have some limited amount of control over the world, but generally are subject to the rules and laws of the world. For example, I am subject to gravity, as in I cannot simply leap away from the Earth and float wherever I may wish. The world and all the consciousnesses bound to that world make up a reality.

This leads us to raise a simple question then: how can the world then not be real? If we exist in it, and if it provides a bridge between ourselves and others, and if it can exist without us in it, then is it not the case that that world is “real?” In the case of the Matrix, being a simulated reality, does it not exhibit all of these features? Many will be quite confident to suggest that the Matrix, or any other simulation, is clearly not “real,” especially when they compare it to what they consider to be “real.” But in those cases, how do they know with such certainty? What is it about the simulated reality that is unlike the “real” reality?

It seems to me the main difference occurs with regard to how the two realities relate to one another. That is, the Matrix EXISTS inside the “real” world. The Matrix is a construct generated within the real world. Therefore, the Matrix is in some sense lesser than the real world. After all, the rules of our world already seem to suggest that things that are larger cannot be contained in things that are smaller (nod here to those Doctor Who fans who are now uttering about TARDISs).

Putting this another way, Descartes in his same Meditations offered what he considered evidence for the existence of God. For Descartes, he questioned how a human, being limited and finite, could conceive of the infinite. A finite being should be unable to conceive of something infinite, because the infinite is clearly much larger and more complex. As before, something that is larger cannot be contained within something smaller than itself. Therefore, for Descartes, for humans to have an idea of the infinite, we would have had to have that idea imprinted in our minds from some outside source. This outside source must be something that is infinite, such as God. And therefore God must exist, in order to give us this infinite idea.

There are certainly weaknesses that can be attacked in his argument. As I often try to impress upon people, infinity is NOT a number. Infinity is an idea regarding boundlessness. That is, to speak of infinity is to speak of something that is unbounded. There is no number that is infinity; to count to infinity is the same as saying I will count without stopping, ever. Infinity has no size to speak of, and therefore it makes no sense to speak of infinity being “too large” for a finite being to comprehend. In fact, to say finite is simply to say that something has boundaries; so even talk of the finite is not to be talking about size either.

This all amounts to misunderstandings. In the case of the simulated reality of the Matrix, it is clearly in some way contained by the “real” world. If one grants this simple fact, then one can suggest that escaping the confines of the Matrix is possible; escaping into a “larger” world. If all this is true, then it is also conceivable that one might escape the “real” world into something larger still.

What this brief exploration shows us is that if there is such a thing as a simulated reality contained within another greater reality, then it is ALWAYS possible for there to be further greater realities one could escape into. The scope and nature of each greater reality is impossible to speculate about until such time as one has successfully escaped into that greater reality, just as Morpheus suggests that “no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.”

No amount of evidence can be provided to prove with certainty that this reality we exist in is definitively the top level reality. It is ALWAYS possible that our reality is simply a simulation contained within another, larger reality. And in the Matrix storyline, this is always possibly the case as well. However, what reason might the author of the story have to suggest this is the case? Why suggest to the audience that doubt should exist in the established “real world?”

Stories about characters who have spent the entire time in a dream, only to awaken at the conclusion of the story often feel unsatisfying. There have been precious few cases where such literary structures have proven to be successful (the most obvious to me is the Usual Suspects). I do not believe the latest chapter in the Matrix story will suggest that we should question the established real world. If it does, it damned well better have a really good reason for doing so.