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.