John G. Messerly's Blog, page 93

Summary of the Harvard Grant Study

(Note – I wrote about this study previously here.)

The longest running study of human development by Harvard researchers confirms that satisfying personal relationships are the key to human happiness. Moreover, personal relationships are just as important to your health as diet and exercise. 

Robert Waldinger, who heads the Grant Study that began in 1938, recently gave a TedTalk about it that has been viewed more than 6 million times in the last few months. While the study only includes white males, it does include those from diverse socio-economic backgrounds. What the study show unequivocally is that the happiest and healthiest people are those who maintained close, intimate relationships.

“People who are more isolated than they want to be from others find that they are less happy, their health declines earlier in midlife, their brain functioning declines sooner and they live shorter lives than people who are not lonely,” Waldinger said in his TedTalk. Something about satisfying relationships protects us from some of the harm done by aging. Furthermore, other things associated with happiness, like wealth and fame, do not make much difference.  Instead what matters is the quality and stability of our relationships. So casual friends or abusive relationships don’t improve the quality of our lives. (Waldinger also has a blog about what makes a good life.)

While many of us want easy answers to the question of how to be happy, Waldinger says that says that “relationships are messy and they’re complicated and the hard work of tending to family and friends, it’s not sexy or glamorous. It’s also lifelong. It never ends.” But the evidence shows that that is we find real happiness.

All of this reminds me of Sartre’s dictum that “hell is other people.” While this can sometimes be true, as a general pronouncement it is surely false. We are social animals and through engagement with others we encounter one of the very few things that gives our lives meaning.

Finally, there was a book published about the study in 2012 by the Harvard psychiatrist George Vaillant about which I wrote previously. For more click on the link.

Triumphs of Experience: The Men of the Harvard Grant Study

Review of Michael Bess’, Our Grandchildren Redesigned: Life in the Bioengineered Society of the Near Future

[image error][image error]Vanderbilt University’s Michael Bess has written an extraordinarily thoughtful new book: Our Grandchildren Redesigned: Life In The BioEngineered Society Of The Near Future. The first part of the book introduces the reader to the technologies that will enhance the physical, emotional, and intellectual abilities of our children and grandchildren: pharmaceuticals, bioelectronics, genetics, nanotechnology, robotics, artificial intelligence, synthetic biology, and virtual reality.

In the second part of the book Bess sets out the pro and cons of enhancement. The arguments against bioenhancement are that doing so: 1) plays god or interferes with nature; 2) destroys the qualities that make us human; 3) subverts dignity by commodifying human traits; 4) displays hubris and robs life of its meaning; and 5) rejects the limitations that define humanity. In these multiple ways enhancement leads to disaster. The arguments for bioenhancement are that doing so: 1) continues the long historical process of controlling ourselves and our world; 2) expresses our natural desires for new capabilities and richer experiences; 3) rejects the legacy of blind evolution and advocates directing the evolutionary process; 4) will reduce suffering and other constraints on our being; and 5) pursues our potential to be more than we are now, which is what gives life meaning.

Bess argues that the differences between the pro and anti-enhancement camps reflect the tension between conservative and romantic reactions to the Enlightenment. Thinkers like Voltaire, Diderot, Locke, and Kant emphasized progress and perfectibility combined with an optimism about human social and moral evolution. Progress could continue indefinitely, as humans used reason to unlock their inner potential. But conservatives like Edmund Burke saw human nature as limited and more fixed. Instead of progressive social evolution, they saw recurring patterns of  greed and violence. (The motive for conservatism that Bess omits in my view, is religious opposition to future technologies.)

Bess suggests a via media between these two visions. Change, innovation and novelty characterize human nature as does the desire for continuity, preservation and order. Wisdom combines both: “hope …  tempered by humility … an attitude of openness to the future, chastened by the sobering lessons of past experience. The resulting moral maxim would be: embrace innovation, but proceed critically, incrementally, and cautiously in adopting it; explore new possibilities, but remain acutely cognizant of the historical track record as you go.”  Bess refers to his view as “chastened optimism.” (78)

This leads to various forms of enhancement considered on a case-by-case basis. But what moral framework should we use to make these assessments? SInce human beings differ regarding their moral beliefs, Bess argues that the best we can do is combine the ancient concept of human flourishing with today’s positive psychology and the “capabilities approach” in economic theory. Together these two fields have reached a consensus about the personal traits and social conditions that contribute to human flourishing, and Bess believes that this provides a framework for assessing enhancement technologies. The key factors in human flourishing from the individual perspective are: security; dignity; autonomy; personal fulfillment; authenticity; and pursuit of practical wisdom. From a societal perspective the key factors are: fairness; interpersonal connectedness; civic engagement; and transcendence. This framework helps us answer questions about whether a particular enhancement will or will not contribute to human flourishing.

Other questions will also arise. Who gets enhanced? Will enhancements create a new caste system? What of those who reject enhancement? Bess thinks it is unlikely that first world democracies would tolerate a biological class system, and that violence may accompany the desire for universal access to enhancement technologies. As for those who reject these technologies, it is unclear whether the non-modified will be able to live peaceably beside the modified. But when large numbers of individuals choose to adopt bioenhancement, there will be tremendous pressure on the non-modified humans to augment their own capabilities, or they will be at a distinct disadvantage. And, given enough time, the modified and non-modified will be different species.

In the third part of the book explores the more ethereal effects enhancements will have on individual humans. Questions will arise like: Do pharmaceuticals enhance our experiences by disconnecting us from reality? Do enhancements mechanize the self by eliminating the messy and unpredictable aspects of human experience? And, if the answer to such questions is yes, then are enhancements worth the price?

Similar questions arise regarding moral enhancement. For example, suppose we can give people a “morality pill” to increase the likelihood that they will make ethical choices. Such a pill wouldn’t have to completely override free will; rather it could increase the proclivity toward altruism. Bess says that we should reject this pill because intention is a large part of what makes an act moral, and the pill interferes with intentions. He believes that free will is worth the price of whatever negative outcomes follow from it. I think that this is a very large price to pay for an idea, free will, that may be illusory anyway. Still Bess maintains that moral enhancement, to the extent it undermines free will, removes moral meaning from the world. Personally, I wouldn’t care about discarding the idea moral meaning if a better world results. No doubt I am revealing my utilitarian preferences.

Other problems relating to human identity include: the possible monitoring and sharing of our intimate thoughts; the development of better virtual reality; and the extension of human lifespans. In addition, enhancement technologies will bring about unforeseen consequences. What will be the future of sex, food, privacy, the arts, and war? No doubt the future will be weird in ways that are, at present, inconceivable. But Bess thinks we should be a scared. “If you think your iPhone is a transformative device, just wait til they turn on your brain-machine interface.” (174)

The last section of the book explores the ethical questions raised by the pursuit of human enhancement. How far should we go with enhancements? What modifications should embrace and which should we reject? What is generally better, modest or radical enhancements? What sorts of creatures do we want to become, and what sort do we to avoid becoming? Will we even have a say in determining such matters?

Bess doubts that we can “just say no” to these technologies, for even if we did some would pursue them in a black market or in countries more receptive to such technologies. Thus complete relinquishment of enhancement technologies is a non-starter. So the real question is whether we want to pursue enhancements at a low-level, increasing today’s capabilities; at a mid-level, capabilities beyond today’s levels but still recognized as human; or at a high level, capabilities we would classify us as transhuman or posthuman.

It is the transhumanist vision that Bess especially fears.  He argues that you cannot have a radically expanded cognitive architecture with transforming your identity. Such a consciousness would no longer be anything like the consciousness it used to be. Thus, to transform ourselves in this manner would be to terminate ourselves and become a new kind of sentient being. But we should not do this, Bess says, because of the potential for posthumans to harm others. “Until we know a great deal more than we do today about what such entities would be like … it would be the height of folly and irresponsibility to proceed with the project of creating them … The potential rewards are too uncertain, and the risks are far too great.” Furthermore, the societal consequences of some of us becoming posthuman might tear the fabric of civilization apart.

Here I think Bess’ arguments are less convincing. The transhumanist admits that the human species, as it is, must die in order for something better to replace it. But this is worth the risk because without radical transformation the species will almost certainly die out. Given the many extinction scenarios that accompany our journey into the future, the prospects for our continued existence seem meager. In that case even huge gambles are justified. If we turn our back on enhancements, we will almost certainly go extinct, and low-level modifications may not be enough to save us.  The rewards may be uncertain, but the risks are no greater than if we do nothing or do only a little.

Bess admits that the temptation to pursue radical enhancements will be great, but he counsels restraint. He hopes that as we adapt to low-level changes, we can gradually relax the constraints on mid-level and high-level ones.  He admits that enforcing these moratoriums would be difficult, and international cooperation would be hard to achieve, but arms control provides a model of how this might be accomplished. Still, trying to control technologies that may spell our doom is worth the effort. We may not be able to control where enhancement technology leads, yet we can influence the path it takes.

Bess’ book is one of the most thoughtful meditations on the future that I have read. Moreover, the book is carefully and conscientiously crafted, and meticulously argued. He is also impartial, giving a fair hearing to contradictory arguments, and wrestling with the ideas as he encounters them. I would situate Bess’ views a bit toward the conservative side of the argument. While he is optimistic that we can muddle our way through the coming storm, which demands a large dose of optimism indeed, I sense more fear than excitement in his words. I think he overestimates how good life is now, and underestimates how good it could be.

Bess concludes that in the future: “the most potent deed of all will still take the form of a smile, a silent nod of empathy, a hand gently laid on someone’s arm. The merest act of kindness will still remain the Ultimate Enhancement.” This is touching, and it reminds us that remaking the world demands more than just engineering. But Iet us hope that Bess doesn’t mean this literally. Let us hope that in the future we can do more for human suffering than smile, nod and touch. Let us hope that someday there will be more than just kindness to ameliorate the reality of our descendents.

What is Western Philosophy?

The Beginnings of Rationalistic Thinking

The word philosophy comes from two Greek roots meaning “the love of wisdom.” Thus philosophers are (supposed to be) lovers of wisdom. In the western world, philosophy traces its beginnings to the ancient Ionian city of Miletus, the richest city in the ancient Greek world. There, on the eastern edge of the Mediterranean in the sixth century B.C.E., the Greeks began to systematically apply human reason to questions concerning nature and human life without reference to the supernatural.

The first Greek philosophers were interested in the question “what is the world made of?” Thales (c.585 B.C.E.), the father of Western philosophy, argued that the earth was made of water, although his successors rejected his argument. How, they wondered, could cool and wet water be the basis of hot and dry things? What’s important for our purposes isn’t the specifics of these arguments, but that for the first time in recorded history hypotheses were being advanced which were subject to rational criticism.

Subsequent thinkers maintained that physical reality was composed of a boundless (Anaximander), air (Anaximenes), fire (Heraclitus), the four elements (Empedoles), or an infinite number of seeds (Anaxagoras). Both monism—the view that one kind of thing comprises reality—and pluralism—that many types of stuff comprise reality—encountered difficulties. Monism couldn’t account for plurality, and pluralism couldn’t account for unity.

Greek thinking about the nature of the physical world culminated with Democritus (460-360 B.C.E.) and other Greek atomists, who argued that all of reality was made up of empty space and tiny, solid, indestructible atoms. This theory provided a theoretical solution to “the problem of the one and the many,” by postulating a qualitative singularity and a quantitative plurality. Material things were identical regarding the qualitative nature of their atoms, but differed in the number and configuration of those atoms.

This theory also resolved the “problem of change,” the paradox of how something changes into something else and yet remains the same. To understand this problem, consider the following. How are you now both the same person and a different person from when you were a small child? If you are the same, then you aren’t different; and if you are different, then you aren’t the same. In answer to this conundrum, Heraclitus (c. 500 B.C.E.) proposed that everything constantly changes. Parmenides (c. 515 – 450), on the other hand, asserted that permanence was the fundamental reality, and he used Zeno’s famous arguments against the possibility of motion to support his views.

Zeno (c.490-430) had argued that the swift Achilles could never pass a front-running tortoise in a race because, by the time Achilles reached the place where the tortoise was previously, the tortoise would have moved ahead to some further point. When Achilles reached that point, the tortoise would have moved further on again, ad infinitum. So Achilles could never pass the tortoise and motion, a kind of change, was impossible. However, because we ordinarily assume motion is possible, the atomists and pluralists rejected the views of Parmenides and Zeno.

The Atomists argued that atomic transformations account for our perception of change. In reality the number and configurations of atoms changes, but their underlying qualities don’t. What we perceive as change is in fact quantitative transformation at the atomic level. In little more than a century, rational discourse alone, without the benefit of experimentation, had advanced the argument remarkably.

But atomic theory wasn’t the only achievement of Greek rationalism. As Greek influenced spread throughout the Mediterranean over the next few centuries, its accomplishments were most impressive. Hipparchus mapped the constellations and calculated the brightness of stars, and Euclid produced the first systematic geometry. Herophilus argued that the brain was the foundation of intelligence, and Heron invented gear trains and steam engines. Eratosthenes calculated the circumference of the earth with surprising accuracy, mapped the earth, and argued that the Indies could be reached by sailing west. (Yes, ancient scholars knew the earth was round.) Moreover, the accomplishments of Pythagoras the mathematician, Archimedes the mechanical genius, Ptolemy the astronomer, and Hippocrates the physician are legendary.

In Alexandria, where over the course of seven centuries the rationalist spirit flourished, the great library and museum held much of the knowledge of the ancient world. But this rationalistic spirit never seized the imagination of the masses and, in 415 C.E., the mob burned the library down. At the time, the greatest mathematician, scientist and philosopher at work in the library was a woman named Hypatia (c.370 – 415).

Unfortunately Alexandria in Hypatia’s time was in disarray. Roman civilization was in decline and the Catholic Church was growing in power. Cyril, the archbishop of Alexandria, despised Hypatia because of her friendship with the Roman governor and her place as a symbol of rationalism and paganism. On her way to work in 415 C.E., she was met by a fanatical mob of Cyril’s parishioners. In his book Cosmos, Carl Sagan describes the scene thus: “They dragged her from her chariot, tore off her clothes, and, armed with abalone shells, flayed her flesh from her bones. Her remains were burned, her works obliterated, her name forgotten. Cyril was made a saint.”

Though the pursuit of knowledge continued in the Middle East and in Eastern civilization, Western civilization would soon plunge into the dark ages and await the Renaissance, more than a millennium in the distant future, for the rebirth of the rationalistic spirit which began in ancient Greece. We can only speculate as to the increased extent of our scientific knowledge today had the spirit of this investigation continued unabated.

Western Philosophy Today

The ancient Greeks made no distinction between rational, philosophical, and scientific thinking. When Thales or Democritus practiced what we would today call physics or chemistry, these disciplines were still parts of philosophy. As the centuries proceeded and human reasoned discovered more about various branches of knowledge, the sciences formed their own distinct disciplines. However, this is a relatively recent phenomenon. Newton, for example, considered his revolutionary seventeenth-century work in physics to be natural philosophy. The natural sciences as distinct disciplines are recent, and the social sciences even more so. For example, economics and became an independent discipline in (roughly) the early nineteenth century, psychology in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and sociology in the early twentieth century.

Today, in the colleges and universities of the Western world, the residual, unanswered, and timeless questions which don’t fall within the specific purview of other disciplines comprise philosophy’s domain. Therefore some of the most difficult questions, for which there are as yet no definite answers or methodology, remain for philosophers to ponder. For example: Is the belief in a God reasonable? What is knowledge? Do we know anything for certain? What is the ultimate nature of reality? Why is there something rater than nothing? What is the nature of goodness, beauty, truth, liberty, equality, and justice? What is a good political system or fair economic system? What is valuable in art, music, or human conduct? What is morality? Are human free? What is the meaning of science? What is the relationship between thought and reality? What is language? Are human beings entirely material? What is the meaning and purpose of human existence? These are just a sample of philosophical questions.

Most of these questions fall into a few basic groups. Metaphysics probes the nature of ultimate reality and revolves around the question, “what is real?” Epistemology studies the nature and limits of human knowledge and centers on the question, “what can we know?” Axiology explores the nature of the valuable in art, politics, and ethics and asks, “What is good?” And, since philosophy invokes reasoned arguments to support positions—rather than relying on faith, authority, tradition, or conventions—logic is that branch of philosophy that differentiates good arguments from bad ones.

In addition, many specialized fields exist within philosophy. There is philosophy of religion, mathematics, science, law, medicine, business, language, art, sport, and more. Note, one can practice any of these without philosophizing about them. You can be cleric, mathematician, scientist, lawyer, nurse, physician, business executive, linguist, artist or athlete without philosophizing about them. So philosophy is by nature a theoretical pursuit rather than a practical one. Philosophers ask:  how do we know a religious claim is true? Does mathematics tell us about reality, or is it merely an arbitrary formal system? How do we know scientific theories are true? What justifies the use of legal coercion? What should the practice of medicine entail? Are ethical behaviors and profitable business compatible? Does language effectively communicate ideas? What makes good art? What purpose do sports serve? Any important part of human culture, the culture as a whole, or the ultimate nature of reality itself is ripe for analysis. Thus, philosophy is sustained, rational, and systematic reflection and analysis of the philosophical area in question.

In addition philosophers investigate the relationship between, for example, philosophy and psychology, literature, culture, gender, or history. Is philosophy independent of these forces, or does philosophy depend on them? Philosophers might study the history of philosophy in order to understand the evolution of ideas in history, or they might be more interested in the meaning of human history. Philosophers are also interested in theoretical issues in game theory, decision theory, and cognitive science, as well as practical issues concerning business, medical, and environmental ethics. The range of philosophy is enormous.

For the uninitiated, in order to get a grasp of the nature of philosophy, go into any library or bookstore and examine a work of non-fiction. Often, at the end of the work in question one finds a section entitled “Afterthoughts,” “Reflections,” “Postscript,” “Epilogue,” “What It All Means,” etc. There authors often move from their subject matter to reflect on the meaning or implications of their investigation. At that point, they are philosophizing.

Do We Make Our Lives Meaningful By How We Live Them?

Meaningfulness lies not in what is achieved or recognized, but in how a life is lived. Narrative values show us that the way we go about crafting our lives, whether consciously so or not, can determine their meaningfulness. This has nothing to do with success, no matter how much importance our world seems to accord to it.

Todd May, in “A Significant Life”

A colleague recently sent me the above quote and ask me what I thought about it. Here was my initial response.

This quote parallels Kant’s view of ethics which is that it is the motive, intention or something else intrinsic to an agent makes an act moral or immoral. Moreover, we live meaningful lives for Kant by doing our duty which is to conform our will, choice, desire, intent, motive, to the moral law. The quote also parallels Kant in that, unlike Mill and the utilitarians, Kant doesn’t think the consequences of our actions matter at all.

If May is saying then that meaningful lives are about living in a certain way—say a moral way for example—rather than by accomplishing or achieving something, or being recognized or being successful, I’d agree.

But I’m not sure what he has in mind with words like achieve, recognized, successful, etc. If he is referring to money or fame, then I would agree those aren’t sufficient for a meaningful life. On the other hand, if we find meaning by being good physicians or philosophers, then it seems to me our lives are more meaningful if we not only want to live as good physicians or philosophers, but if we were successful or achieve what we set out to. Like helping our patients or students or readers.

So yes the way we craft our lives is part of a meaningful life—crafted to be loving, thoughtful, or kind—but they would be even more meaningful if we succeeded in what we set out to achieve.

But perhaps I’m reading too much into this. Perhaps what May has in mind is really the Stoic idea—that we can control our own thoughts but not the external world—and not whether we are ultimately successful. So we do give our lives meaning primarily by our efforts. But again, from an eternal perspective, it seems they would be more meaningful if somehow there was some ultimate success for all of us in the end.

These thoughts elicited this thoughtful response from my colleague:

In his book, May … distinguishes meaningful lives as largely distinct from moral lives and also largely distinct from lives of value or worth. A life can have value, but not meaning (he sites animals as an interesting example), and a life can be moral but not have intrinsic meaning (the joyless do-gooder, perhaps). His definition of a meaningful life is close to Susan Wolf’s (something like subjective engagement plus objective worth). Objective worth, in May’s view, involves issues such as narrative and how a life is lived (but not, as my quote shows, achievement).

My question to you, though, is whether you think one can judge one’s life to have been meaningful separate from achievement or results. My gut is that results DO matter, the sum of how one affects things outside themselves DOES matter for a life to be meaningful (meaningful even as distinct from moral or valuable). But I think this important – if external outcomes do matter, it may possibly set one up for disappointment (how much do most people really make a difference?) And if it does not matter, then a life of quiet contemplation and deep thought can be just as meaningful. With the parallel with ethical theory you raise, I’d be inclined to argue that consequences matter. I guess what I am asking is whether, when judging whether life is meaningful, one should (and to what extent) or should not take results or effects into consideration (as opposed to internal considerations such narrative, intent, and how we craft our lives).

And here was my response:

My gut sense is that the internal considerations are ultimately more important since we can’t guarantee the results of our efforts. This is reminiscent of Kant’s opening line in the Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals. “Nothing can possibly be conceived in the world … which can be called good without qualification, except a good will.” (Kant unfortunately takes this to the extreme in ethics and omits consequences from consideration altogether.)

So meaningful lives are in large part about the desire or intention to live meaningful lives. Perhaps another way into these questions would be to consider how you are trying to give meaning to your life.

Example A – Say someone finds meaning in helping children be healthy. In this case the meaningful life for such a person is mostly outer directed by definition. They do want and intend to help children, but surely their lives would be judged more meaningful if they were successful in helping children. I may want to help a sick child but I don’t have the physician’s skills, their license to prescribe medicine, etc. So if I find meaning helping sick children I would achieve better results, and thus lead a more meaningful life by earning an MD rather than a PhD. So it seems that seeking meaning in this way is judged in large part by success, although patients die and physicians aren’t omnipotent. To the extent the physician succeeds better, say with 21st century medicine as opposed to 19th century medicine, I think we could say their lives are somewhat more meaningful. But that’s not to say that 19th physicians didn’t live meaningful lives. I suppose following this line of thought 23rd century physicians will lead even more meaningful lives. But while this would be true in an objective sense, it doesn’t seem true subjectively. It is hard to criticize the 19th doctor for blood letting if s/he thought that was best.

So this brings me back to Wolf’s claim that subjective engagement with good things constitutes the meaningful life. In our example, the physician wants to make his/her patients well. The more I think about it the more I think that even in this case, while the results would be nice and a physician or philosopher should study so as to pass along the best possible knowledge, they live meaningful lives by doing the best they can. So I would tentatively conclude that the internal considerations about our motives, intentions, the narrative of our lives, the crafting of our lives is MORE crucial to judging whether a life is meaningful than the results. However, this doesn’t mean the consequences are irrelevant.

Example B – As for the other case you mentioned, a life of contemplation and meditation, this would obviously be judged as meaningful and successful to the extent you achieved inner peace, knowledge, oneness with the universe or whatever you are trying to achieve. So the relative value of whether the internal or external is more important depends a lot on how you are trying to achieve meaning.

So I think I’m back to the Stoics. Not only do we live best by doing our duty and then recognizing that the outcome is out of our control, but that meaningful lives are those in which we are actively engaged as subjects in objectively projects—helping people, trying to achieve inner peace, pursuing the good, true, beautiful, etc. From an external perspective good results—people really being helped, more peace, truth, goodness, and beauty in the world—is an added bonus. But I now think May is right, it is mostly about something inside of us. So I conclude that I agree with his quote with the following modifications:

“Meaningfulness (mostly) lies not in what is achieved or recognized, but in how a life is lived. Narrative values show us that the way we go about crafting our lives, whether consciously so or not, can determine their meaningfulness. This has (little) to do with (worldly) success (or consequences or results, since we have so little control over them), no matter how much importance our world seems to accord to it.”

So May is right, the well lived life is more important than worldly success. Still, to the extent that we affect the world for the better, our lives are made even more meaningful.

John Stewart’s, “The Meaning of Life in an Evolving Cosmos”

John Stewart is a member of the Evolution, Complexity and Cognition Research Group at The Free University of Brussels, and the author of: Evolution’s Arrow: the direction of evolution and the future of humanity. In his essay “The Meaning of Life In A Developing Universe,” he argues that evolution and meaning should be understood together.

Evolution has produced an organism that has begun to model and understand cosmic evolution, as well as the possible future evolution of life. The models reveal that there is a trajectory to evolution, specifically the increasing scales over which living processes evolve into organized cooperatives. For example, molecular processes were organized into cells; cells into organisms; and human organisms into families, bands, tribes, cities, and nations. Evolution favors cooperation because of the advantages bestowed upon organized cooperatives; in turn larger cooperatives have a greater ability to adapt to changing circumstances. Uninterrupted, this should lead to global and interstellar cooperatives, with a concomitant increase in intelligence that would eventually lead to a nearly omnipotent command of matter and energy.

While the trajectory of evolution has moved largely of its own accord, at some point it will probably continue only if we direct or steer it—an act Stewart calls intentional evolution. Intelligent beings such as ourselves must be committed to intentionally directing evolution, driving the development of life and intelligence even though our ultimate destination is unknown. This transition, from passive recipient to active participator must be taken in order to further evolve. “If humanity goes on to complete this great evolutionary transition, we will have embraced a role that provides meaning and purpose for our existence.”

Summary – The meaning of life is to direct evolution to new heights.

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John Stewart, “The Meaning of Life In A Developing Universe,” http://www.evolutionarymanifesto.com/...., 14.

Summary of Steve Stewart-Williams’, Darwin, God and the Meaning of Life

Steve Stewart-Williams is a lecturer in evolutionary psychology at Swansea University in Wales. He received his PhD from Massey University in New Zealand in psychology and philosophy and was a post-doctoral fellow at McMaster University in Canada. His book, Darwin, God and the Meaning of Life: How Evolutionary Theory Undermines Everything You Thought You Knew, applies evolutionary insights directly to questions of ethics, religion, and meaning.

Like the previous authors we have discussed in this chapter, Stewart-Williams thinks evolution bears significantly on the issue of the meaning of life. Humans have a perennial interest in the question of life’s meaning, advancing religious and secular answers to the question but, as we have seen and as Stewart-Williams notes, there are difficulties with all the proposed solutions even before we take evolutionary theory into account. Let us look then more closely at the implications of evolution for meaning.

Why are we here? We are here because we evolved, but the purpose of our existence is not to survive, reproduce, or propagate genes; the fact that we evolved to do these things does not tell us what our purpose is now. So in this sense evolution is not relevant to questions of meaning. Nonetheless evolutionary theory is relevant to questions of meaning in another way. To see how we must understand that evolutionary theory offers historical explanations, not teleological ones. Teleological explanations explain apparent design, like the giraffe’s long neck, in terms of purposes—they have long necks to feed on tall trees. (Aristotle’s explanation of water running downhill to reach its natural resting place is another example of a teleological explanation.) Biology tells us instead that giraffes have long necks because in the past long necks helped them survive, reproduce, and thereby pass along their genes. In modern biology, all adaptations have historical rather than teleological explanations.

The important point is that explanations for why we are here—to get to heaven, be happy, help others, reproduce—are all teleological explanations. In evolutionary theory these are the wrong kinds of answers because again, in biology, there are no teleological answers only historical ones. From evolutionary theory it follows that we are here because we evolved, we are not here for a purpose. Notice that this does not preclude us choosing goals and purposes for ourselves from which we derive emotional or psychological meaning. “However, if we’re interested in the question of whether life is ultimately meaningful, as opposed to whether it’s potentially emotionally meaningful, well, after Darwin, there is no reason to suppose that it is.”

Yet Stewart-Williams does not find this conclusion gloomy. Just because life has no ultimate purpose, it does not follow that life is not worth living—life can still be good although it is ultimately meaningless. (Many subjectivists made the same point.) Like the existentialists we might even find this idea liberating, inasmuch as this state of affairs allows us the freedom to give life meaning, rather than having it imposed on us externally. For many subjective meaning may not be enough, but for Stewart-Williams we can appreciate beauty, kindness, and the other good things in life even if they don’t have an ultimate purpose.

Surprisingly, we should not draw from all this the conclusion that we have purposes but the universe does not. The minds from which purposes emerge are a part of the universe, and this means that if you have purposes then part of the universe does too. The universe does not have a single purpose, but the many purposes of the beings that are part of it:

… it is false to say that the universe is purposeless. It was purposeless before the first life forms with purposes and drives evolved, and it will be devoid of purpose once more when the last life form takes its final gasp of breath. However, as long as we’re here to contemplate such matters, to struggle and strive, the universe is not without purpose.

Finally, the fact our minds are part of the universe has an interesting implication—the universe is partly conscious. When we contemplate the universe, part the universe is conscious; when we know something of the universe, part of the universe is self-conscious. From an evolutionary perspective this means that after eons of unconsciousness, the universe is gradually becoming self-aware. As for the destiny of consciousness Stewart-Williams is not optimistic. Given the shadow cast over us by universal death he expects the universe will lapse back into unconsciousness. As we will see, some of the thinkers that follow will offer more positive cosmic visions.

Summary – Evolution reveals that the universe has no objective purpose. However, we are part of the universe and we have purposes, so the universe has as many purposes as we give it. This means that the universe is partly conscious.

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Stewart-Williams, Darwin, God and the Meaning of Life: How Evolutionary Theory Undermines Everything You Thought You Knew, 197.

Michael Shermer, “The Meaning of Life, The Universe, and Everything”

Michael Shermer (1954 – ) is an American science writer, historian of science, founder of The Skeptics Society, and Editor in Chief of its magazine Skeptic, which is largely devoted to investigating pseudoscientific and supernatural claims. He is also the author of numerous well-received popular books. He received his PhD in the history of science in 1991 from the Claremont Graduate University.

In his commencement speech at Whittier College in May of 2008 titled, “The Meaning of Life, The Universe, and Everything,” Shermer makes his case for the relationship between evolution and meaning. He asserts that while the question of the existence of an afterlife is an open one, we should live as if this life is the only one, treating others and each moment as the most important thing. In this way our lives become meaningful by valuing things in the here and now, as opposed to treating this life as a prelude to another one. The values and purposes and meanings we create are provisional of course, since we have no access to ultimate truth. In this way they are analogous to the provisional truths of science—facts confirmed to such a degree we give them our provisional assent. The self-correcting nature of science determines provisional scientific truths, while life itself shows the way to provisional purpose.

The most basic purpose of life is survival and reproduction, and we are the product of those billions of years of evolution. We might conclude that there was a cosmic destiny or divine providence that led to us, but in fact the existence of life was contingent on a billion circumstances. If an asteroid like the one that destroyed the dinosaurs had hit the earth a million years ago, if a few Homo sapiens had not migrated from Africa a hundred thousand years ago, if Neanderthals had killed our ancestors thirty thousand years ago, if any of these or countless other perturbations had occurred, we would have vanished. We are contingent.

But from our humble beginnings, a sense of purpose and the desire to achieve goals has evolved. We love, work, play, become involved, and transcend, finding transcendent meaning in the world revealed by science and the awe it inspires. Shermer experiences awe by looking at the Andromeda galaxy through his backyard telescope, by contemplating that the light of that galaxy took three million years to reach his retina, and by the fact that this galaxy was unknown until recently. The vastness of deep space and time are themselves more than enough to generate awe, and what generates awe is a source of meaning. Evolution has produced creatures with meaning built into them, and with the ability to experience it, if they choose to do so.

Summary – Evolution has built meaning and purpose into us.

Michael Shermer, “The Meaning of Life, The Universe, and Everything,”

Michael Shermer (1954 – ) is an American science writer, historian of science, founder of The Skeptics Society, and Editor in Chief of its magazine Skeptic, which is largely devoted to investigating pseudoscientific and supernatural claims. He is also the author of numerous well-received popular books. He received his PhD in the history of science in 1991 from the Claremont Graduate University.

In his commencement speech at Whittier College in May of 2008 titled, “The Meaning of Life, The Universe, and Everything,” Shermer makes his case for the relationship between evolution and meaning. He asserts that while the question of the existence of an afterlife is an open one, we should live as if this life is the only one, treating others and each moment as the most important thing. In this way our lives become meaningful by valuing things in the here and now, as opposed to treating this life as a prelude to another one. The values and purposes and meanings we create are provisional of course, since we have no access to ultimate truth. In this way they are analogous to the provisional truths of science—facts confirmed to such a degree we give them our provisional assent. The self-correcting nature of science determines provisional scientific truths, while life itself shows the way to provisional purpose.

The most basic purpose of life is survival and reproduction, and we are the product of those billions of years of evolution. We might conclude that there was a cosmic destiny or divine providence that led to us, but in fact the existence of life was contingent on a billion circumstances. If an asteroid like the one that destroyed the dinosaurs had hit the earth a million years ago, if a few Homo sapiens had not migrated from Africa a hundred thousand years ago, if Neanderthals had killed our ancestors thirty thousand years ago, if any of these or countless other perturbations had occurred, we would have vanished. We are contingent.

But from our humble beginnings, a sense of purpose and the desire to achieve goals has evolved. We love, work, play, become involved, and transcend, finding transcendent meaning in the world revealed by science and the awe it inspires. Shermer experiences awe by looking at the Andromeda galaxy through his backyard telescope, by contemplating that the light of that galaxy took three million years to reach his retina, and by the fact that this galaxy was unknown until recently. The vastness of deep space and time are themselves more than enough to generate awe, and what generates awe is a source of meaning. Evolution has produced creatures with meaning built into them, and with the ability to experience it, if they choose to do so.

Summary – Evolution has built meaning and purpose into us.

Daniel Dennett: Evolution as the Universal Acid

In his book, DARWIN’S DANGEROUS IDEA: EVOLUTION AND THE MEANINGS OF LIFE, Dennett describes evolution as a universal acid that eats through everything it touches; everything from the cell to consciousness to the cosmos is best explained from an evolutionary perspective, as is metaphysics, epistemology, ethics, religion, and the meaning of life. To better understand this, Dennett considers the “great cosmic pyramid. Traditionally this pyramid explains design from the top down—from god down through mind, design, order, chaos, and nothingness. In this interpretation, god acts as the ultimate “skyhook,” a miraculous source of design that does not build on lower, simpler layers. By contrast, evolution reverses the direction of the pyramid explaining design from the bottom up, by what Dennett calls “cranes.” Here physical matter and the algorithmic process of evolution explain the evolution of more complex structures from simpler ones, and they do so without miraculous intervention.

Now applied to meaning, evolution implies that no godlike skyhook is needed to derive meaning; instead, meaning must be created from the ground up, as the subjectivists argued in Chapter 5. While subjectivists have a hard time explaining how you create meaning, evolution does not. If we abandon the idea that god or mind comes first, we see that meaning evolves from the bottom up as order, design and mind are created. At one time there was no life, no mind, and no meaning, but slowly, imperceptibly they emerged. Meaning does not then descend from on high; it percolates up from below as mind develops. The meaning that mind now experiences is not full-fledged meaning, but it is moving in that direction as mind develops. From a mind that itself was built by cranes, composed of molecules, atoms, and neurons in ever more complex arrangements, meaning evolves.

The mental states that give rise to meaning are themselves grounded ultimately in biology. Darwin showed us that everything of importance, including our minds, evolved from below, slowly, by happenstance, and all connected in a tree of life. The tree of life created by evolution is no god to be prayed to, but it inspires awe nonetheless. It is something sacred.

Summary – Meaning is not complete, but it is evolving along with the minds with which it co-exists.

Steven Pinker: A Critique of Robert Wright’s Progressivism

Steven Pinker (1954 – ) is an experimental psychologist, cognitive scientist, linguist, popular science author, and the Johnstone Family Professor in the Department of Psychology at Harvard University, where he earned his PhD in 1979. He regularly appears on lists of today’s most influential scientists, thinkers, and public intellectuals.

Pinker agrees with Wright that biological organisms and cultures get more complex over time and that there has been cultural and moral progress. Yet he is not convinced “that the cosmos has, in some sense, the “goal,” “end,” “purpose,” or “destiny” of producing complex life, intelligent species, societies, and global cooperation … natural selection is a feedback process with a kind of “goal,” and so is human striving. But do the two have the same goal, and is that goal an increase of complexity in the service of cooperation?”  Pinker argues that the answer to both parts of this question is no. But why?

First, the goal of natural selection is to enhance reproduction; increasing complexity and cooperation are sub-goals in the service of this primary goal, as are increased size, speed, energy efficiency, parental care, weapons, etc. All may have increased over time, but they are not the goal or destiny of evolution. Second, human intelligence was no more destined to be than elephant trunks or any other biological adaptation. Brains evolve only when their benefits exceed their costs, an occurrence quite rare in living things since most things never develop brains. Third, humans don’t seek cooperation and societal complexity; they seek pleasure, friendship, knowledge and the like. Complexity may help us be happy, and it may help organisms reproduce, but that doesn’t mean they were evolution’s goal. Finally, Pinker argues that cooperation and moral progress will not increase toward a limit, but cease when the benefits of cooperation are balanced by its costs. Organisms and societies have become more complex, intelligent, and cooperative over time, but that doesn’t mean they were destined to become so. There may be some progress, but it is not inevitable, it is not built into the nature of things.

Summary – Biological and cultural evolution do not have a destiny.

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http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/th...