Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Clever Man Says Interesting Thing, Shock

Earlier this year the New Statesman (a magazine) asked a group of famous people who believed in God why they believed in God. Later on they asked a group of famous people who didn't believe in God why they didn't believe in God. It turned out that the people who believed in God believed in God for all the usual reasons, and the people who didn't believe in God didn't believe in God for all the usual reasons. I give Ben Goodacre points for saying that he thought there should be a word for people who weren't interested one way or the other. The atheists were on the whole shriller than the theists. Richard Dawkins started off sounding calm and reasonable, explaining that he didn't believe in God because he didn't see any reason to believe in God, but ended up saying that "theology" was "the exact equivalent" of reading tea-leaves.

I was a lot more interested in the comments of one Steven Hawking. He was the fella, you remember, who said that when we'd filled in the last bit of physics we would "know the mind of God".

The Dawk is probably right to say that when Hawking says "God" he doesn't actually mean "God": it's just a flowery way of saying "we will know everything." I do wonder if Hawking was deliberately playing up to his own mythology. A very clever man who happens to be severely disabled fits in nicely with Gnostic ideas about Bodies being things that Minds have annoyingly got trapped in, and that we should let those bodies shrivel away so that minds can expand and ascend and get back in touch with the mind of God. That's why the most brilliant fictional scientists (Prof. X, Davros, the Mekon) are always represented as wheelchair users.

Biologists are often accused of "playing God" by people who don't understand biology, or for that matter, God. It's hard to see why "fixing the plumbing" so childless couples can make babies is necessarily more hubristic than, say, giving aspirins to people who God has decided ought to have headaches. But Physicists seem to positively like using the G-word. They pretend that Mr Higgs-Boson is the God Particle or that a grand unified theory is the Mind of God or that Quantum Physics reveals that the Creator is a big fan of Yahtzee. 

Christians have a bad habit of pretending that this means that the scientists in question believed in God even when they obviously didn't. Christians have a bad habit of pretending that all sorts of famous people believed in God when they obviously didn't. Atheists have got an equally bad habit of claiming that famous people didn't believe in God when they obviously did. ("Oh, they may have said that they did, but that was the kind of thing you had to say in the olden days. If they lived today, they would have agreed with me.") Einstein, who was a scientist, didn't believe in God, and said so, although he also said that the didn't think much of atheists and was a big fan of Jesus.

I think that the tendency of some physicists to talk about their science in theological language does imply that they think that their science is the sort of thing which it is worth using theological language to talk about. I think that they use words like "God" because they like to think of themselves as discoverers of some ultimate, or indeed, Ultimate, truth, or indeed Truth. Unlike those poor benighted chemists who just mix things up in their test tubes. I think that they use the G-word because they believe in some kind of Platonic reality – that there are things that are true and would have been true even if there had been no minds to observe them being true. Unlike those people on the other side of the quad who think that everything is contingent, cultural determined, subjective, post-modern, deconstructable.

More recently, Mr Hawking has claimed that the gaps which he perceived when he wrote a Brief History of Time have indeed been filled in: "the scientific account is complete and theology is unnecessary". This works very well if God is primarily an explanation for the bits of the Universe we don't quite understand. When we knew hardly anything, there was lots of stuff for God to do; now we know everything, we can retire him. (I've always felt that this can't be quite right. So little of the Bible and the Koran and the Book of Mormon seem to be involved in saying "Why do elephants have long noses? Because God said so, that's why." So much of it seems to be about temples and taboos and morals and miracles and stuff.)

But the bombshell that Hawking drops on the New Statesman goes like this:

"I am not claiming that there is no God. The scientific account is complete but it does not predict human behaviour because there are too many equations to solve. One therefore uses a different model which can include free will and God." 

Go back and read that again.

Now go back and read it again.

Now, we know well enough how the rest of this argument pans out. Like a high level chess game, the moves are planned out in advance. Some Christians are, right now, typing that God exists because the most famous scientist of his generation says that God exists, or at any rate, that God doesn't definitely not exist. Some atheists are, right now, typing "Oh, I suppose just because humans are complicated I have to start circumcising lambs on bronze alters, do I?" All the cute little Dawkinistas are typing that by "God", Hawking doesn't mean "God" and even if he does, he's got a diseased mind and can be ignored. Five comments in someone will use the phrase "sky fairy" and the discussion will come to an end.

But it is still very interesting.

Clearly, Hawking hasn't suddenly converted to anything, and isn't even necessarily talking about the "God" of religion. He may not be saying anything more than that "God" can be a useful tool of thought. That was the line taken by Phillip Pullman before he became boring: God doesn't "exist" but she's still worth thinking about, because she allows us to think of things we couldn't think of without her. (There is no such number as the square root of minus one, but calculations involving the square root of minus one have useful real world applications.) It was also the line taken by Terry Pratchett: maybe it is good to teach children to believe in things that don't exist, like the tooth fairy, because they are going to need to believe in other things that don't exist, like "love" and "freedom".

It isn't quite clear what Hawking means by "model". He may mean "It could sometimes be useful to pretend that there is a God in the same way that it is sometimes useful (when you are trying to find your way home without a compass, say) to pretend that the earth is the center of the universe and the sun moves round it." Or he may mean: "When we are talking about the human mind, and how it interacts with the universe, and whether it makes real choices, it is perfectly valid to construct hypothesis which includes God. At some point in the future, we may think of a way of testing those hypotheses." 

He seems, very interestingly, to grok the idea that "God" is not, and never way, primarily a very inefficient way of explaining why elephants have trunks; but is, and always was, a way of thinking about how us minds go about existing and interacting with other minds which also seem to be embodied in this physical universe thing. 

Since he has (so far as I know) no particular religious axe to grind it will not be possible for the atheists to reply "Oh, look at the contortions which these Christians will go to to salvage some part of their nasty barbaric bronze age did I mention Fred Phelps stoning apostates sky fairy sky fairy sky fairy." This doesn't mean that they won't say it. And if he is serious (about not claiming that God does not exist) it will suddenly become awfully hard to maintain the imaginary line between science (which is always atheistic) and faith (which is always anti-scientific.) Which doesn't mean that people won't carry on saying it.

Science has explained everything; but human minds and their apparent ability to make choices are not really part of the "everything" which science has explained. We may need to think of them in some other way. Some way that may include "God". 

Excuse me: but wasn't that exactly the territory over which C.S Lewis and G.E.M Anscombe had their celebrated theological spat in 1948?

These Ones Are Pretty Awesome As Well

Thursday, October 06, 2011

And now, here is some music

is this possibly the best song ever written about anything

I lied (3)

-Are you through with politics?
--I should say vice versa

Citizen Kane

I think that when I ask questions about the logic of a political speech or interview or leading article or talk show, or wonder how the speakers theories might apply to the “real” world, I am making the same mistake as the man who asked what the piece of string did after it left the bar.

I think that all those webpages which explain at some length that no, actually, Birmingham City Council has not banned Christmas are on the same level as the webpages which ask why the Death Star didn't just ignore the fourth moon of Yavin and blast the gas giant that it was orbiting.

It’s not supposed to make sense, you dunderhead. It’s a story.

Seeing little red spaceships whizzing around shooting at little black space ships is meant to make you feel excited; hearing the word "winterval" is meant to make you feel cross.

Star Wars is for people who like feeling excited; politics is for people who like feeling cross. There is literature for people who like feeling scared and for people who like feeling sad, and good luck to them.

I think it will be infinitely more profitable to approach any speech, any interview, any column, any talking heads show (and any Internet blog) as a self contained, abstract structure of rising and falling sounds and disconnected images than to imagine that the speaker or writer is actually saying something

Because they hardly ever are.


Did you happen to watch the panel of apparently grown-up individuals discussing the recent lynching in Georgia on Question Time? The panelists were required to pretend to answer the question “Does capital punishment have a place in civilized society?” Readers will immediately spot that this is not actually a question at all. It’s only a bit of question-shaped-noise. The man in the front row you sir with the glasses might as well have asked “do some people wear pink ties?" or "does cheese exist?" Many civilizations -- the Greek civilization, the Roman civilization, the Egyptian civilization, the whole of Western civilization up until the 19th century – practiced capital punishment with great enthusiasm and some imagination. The questioner was at best making a man-goes-into-a-bar pun. Have you noticed how we use the word “civilization” to mean “a complex political and legal culture” (“civilization began in ancient Babylon”) and “couth, well mannered behaviour” (“don’t chew your meat with your mouth open, darling, it’s uncivilized”)? Isn't that funny, in a way? At worst, he wasn't saying anything at all. He was just making a noise, and inviting the panel to make a noise.

Ian Hislop noted that his magazine had reported at least one miscarriage of justice every week for the past 25 years, at least 100 of which related to wrongful murder convictions. If the asphyxiation lobby had its way, those 100 people would all be dissolving in quicklime right now. Leaving all other considerations to one side, he said, this demonstrates why ritual asphyxiation will never be restored in this country.

Now, there are clearly only two sensible responses to this point:

a: It doesn't matter if you execute an innocent person: what matters is that the “cost” of murder should be as high as it can possibly be, otherwise the “value” of life is insufficiently high, like finding bananas only cost 5p a pound in Sainsburies and deciding that they can’t possibly be very good bananas. And anyway, the death penalty doesn't hurt much nowadays so it hardly even counts as a punishment. [*]

b: It doesn't matter if you execute an innocent person, because executions prevent murders, so the total number of people killed in a society with capital punishment is always less than the total number of people killed in a society which doesn’t have capital punishment.

c: The state, while terribly bad at running schools and hospitals, is infallible when it comes to determining guilt or innocence, so it is in fact impossible that any innocent person could ever be convicted. Which must be a huge comfort to Timothy Evans and Derek Bentley.

No-one made either of these arguments. A lady on the panel who claimed to be a Tory MP made the following noise:

I do actually think that when we have a criminal justice system that continuously fails in this country and where we’ve seen murderers and rapists and people who’ve committed just the most abhorrent crimes in society go into prison and then are released from prison to go out into the community to re offend and do the type of crimes that they’ve committed again and again I think that’s appalling and on that basis alone I would actually support the re-introduction of capital punishment to serve as a deterrent because I do think we do not have enough deterrence in this country for criminals and lets not forget that murderers and rapists and criminals of that kind chose to commit the crimes that they commit.

Hislop repeated his point about executing innocent people: were his 100 people all guilty? "No, I’m not saying that." "Then they would be dead." But apparently, this wasn't the point:

The point is as I said earlier on this is about having deterrence. If you have strong deterrence like that, capital punishment will act as a deterrent. To have capital punishment would act as a deterrent. That’s the first point here....And also I put this in the context of I think far too many politicians run away from debating issues like this because they don’t want to associate themselves with an either or position and I think the other point to make here and this comes back to the issue about a deterrent in our criminal justice system is that we see the revolving door with murderers and rapists and pedophiles as well and nobody thinks about the human rights of the families and the victims and the people that have really suffered.

When David-or-Jonathan opened it up to the audience, a slightly different point of view was presented:

This is about having a deterrent. It’s not about the ultimate taking of a life. It’s about having deterrent....Because if you’ve got boundaries which are set then people understand the parameters of the crime that they’re going to commit, be it a murder, be it rape, if you’ve got a deterrent in place for that then it may make people think twice about what they’re actually going to do in order to commit that crime...I’m not saying it’s particularly right, but what I am saying is that, as a deterrent sometimes with the system that we have and the way its backed up and prisons are full I think that really and truly it should be looked at....I remember when I was at school, in Birmingham, and I remember that the cane was a deterrent. Just the thought that you may have the cane, you may get the cane, was a deterrent. For you not to do certain things.

Now, you see, the old me would have been inclined to approach this gibberish logically. Are there many actual examples of people who have been convicted of first degree murder, and then released from prison to commit a second first degree murder? Isn’t Priti Patel’s “revolving door” really about people serving a few years for some lessor crime and committing a more serious one on their release from prison? Isn't the logic of that position that you would have to have the death penalty for second degree murder and house breaking and common assault? Why do we keep talking about rape and pedophilia, when rape hasn’t been a capital offence since 1841? Did the man in the audience envisage having a rusty gallows in the basement of Wormwood Scrubs to represent the fact that the state could kill you if it wanted to although it isn't actually going to -- like having a vault of gold to make people believe in paper currency, even though it would use it's value if you actually spent any of it. (That’s the only sense I can make out of his schoolboy analogy. I think some teachers did keep canes in the cupboard as a sort of symbol and threat even when they had not the slightest intention of actually spanking anyone.) Or is he confusing “deterrence” in the criminal sense with mutual deterrence in the military sense – that nuclear weapons will never be used because both sides have got nuclear weapons and are therefore all too scared to use them? Or does he think that “deterrent” is a magic panacea, and once you say “Anyone who writes rude words on the walls will get the cane” the whole school becomes magically free of graffiti for ever after? (I wish Jonathon-or-David had asked him "Were you ever caned, sir?" I would bet several pounds on the answer having been "Oh yes, many times, and it didn't do me any harm.")

But in fact it is perfectly obvious that there is no meaning behind the words, any more than there is in Jabawocky or Visions of Johanna. The word "deterrent" was like the pun at the end of a joke -- it has a visceral effect on some members of the audience (making them feel vaguely good about killing people). The rest of speech "the reality is" "the main point" "I really believe that" "moving forward" were just like the scaffolding in the joke that gets us to the point when you can amusingly reveal that some words sound like other words.

[Well the point is as I said earlier on this is about] having deterrence. [If you have ]strong deterrence [like that] capital punishment will act as a deterrent. To have capital punishment would act as a deterrent. [That’s the first point here....]

I have the kind of brain which is inclined to read this sort of ga-ga as if it were an argument, in the same way that once I've noticed that "piece of cod" sounds like "peace of god" I can't help thinking of a story in which a vicar might confuse his fish with his benediction. (Pete Ashton suggested, not unkindly, that I might have a kind of high-functioning autism. I've never been diagnosed as such, but I have seen Star War forty four times.) But it's not an argument and there is no thread. They are just saying "deterrence" over and over again. "Deterrence...deterrence...deterrence" means "This is an argument in favour of hanging people" in the same way that "Come all you young fellas and list unto me" means "This is the first verse of a folk song."

People sometimes talk about politicians using "dog whistles". The idea is that in the course of a speech, the politician smuggles in some words or phrases which are innocuous to normal people, but carry a special meaning to a particular claque. Hardly anyone could possibly object to "moral values", but if you say that you want to teach "moral values" to school children in the right tone of voice, a good proportion of your audience will understand you to mean that you want to promote homophobia. Clearly this happens. George Bush was apparently particularly adept at working regimental jokes into his speeches, (which isn’t a terrible idea when you are speaking to soldiers). But I think that political debate is much more like Glen Larson’s old joke about human-dog communication. The human says "Good Rover! Good doggie! Get off the sofa and you shall have a nice juicy bone!" and the dog hears "Blah Rover! Blah blah! Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah."

This is also the only way of making sense of the Daily Express's front page article about ritual child-beating. (The substantive point, you remember, was "Someone asked some people some questions, some of them said one thing, some of them said another thing".)

"Tough discipline... blah blah... the cane... blah blah..... strong leadership.... blah blah..... authority.... blah..... power.... freedom.... discipline.... corporal punishment.... smacking.... caning...... more discipline..... unions, wishy washy.... detention..... writing out lines..... more power.... poor discipline.... using force..... restore order".

And it’s obviously the only way of looking at David Cameron’s speech-shaped-structure about Teh Riotz. Obviously, his was more nuanced, because it was written for him by a professional speech writer and practiced in front of a focus group, but you search in vain for concrete statements like “the riots happened because half the police force were in their offices filling out paper work; as of next Tuesday, I am hiring 10,000 extra secretaries who will be able to do most of the routine paper work for them”. Instead, I found a lot of shout-phrases.

“Responsible majority... this country... determination... mend our broken society.... stronger... terrible mess we inherited... stronger society... stronger... stronger... stronger... stronger society..... mend our broken society... mend our broken society... human rights... personal responsibility.... health and safety... common sense.” [**]

It's literally clap-trap: sounds which are there to make the audience applause, and for no other reason.

And that, you will be glad to know, really is all that I have to say about politics.

When someone says something I try to work out what must have been going on in their heads. When someone tells me that they have encountered and had dealings with fairies, I assume that what they are saying makes sense from their point of view. If someone says a wrong thing, I believe I can usually show why it is a wrong thing, unless it turns out that I believe a wrong thing myself. I really want to tell you what I think about the revelation that Daily Mail journalists write reports of trials before the verdict has come in, complete with descriptions of how the accused looked and what the defense council said afterwards. I really want to tell you what I think about the British Home Secretary using a fictitious story about a cat as grounds for abolishing the Human Rights act, and that when politicians say "I am not making this up" they mean "Someone else made it up for me." I want to tell you what I think about the last Archdruid lying about the BBC BC/AD thing, and his apparent belief that Jesus was born on January 1st. Or the American lady who thinks the unfortunate Troy Davies must have been guilty because every one executed in America since 1950 has been guilty. Or...

But no. There's no point trying to work out what is going on in their heads. There's no point trying to work out what they mean. They don't mean anything. Nothing is going on in their heads. It's only noise.

Time to stop. Time to do something else.

In a media age, there can be no political debate, and to pretend that there can be merely perpetuates the noise making.

“Piece of shit." as a very wise man once said. "Walk away.”

I’m not going to swear to dress up as a bat and hunt down my father’s killer for the rest of my life, although, barring one cheese and tomato sandwich, I really haven’t been in any branch of Tescos since the riot. But I am going to stop reading newspapers, at least until Christmas. Until the election, if I can manage it. And that means no radio or TV news, and no Eye and no News Quiz and no HIGNFY. And pruning my Twitter feed. If I ever feel the urge to pick up the Guardian, I'll get magazine about science or guitars or birdwatching instead. Instead of watch Newsnight, I'll watch Smallville or Merlin or something with some vague connection to the real world.

If Boris Johnson becomes Prime Minister, please could someone write and tell me.





I'm Andrew. I write about about folk music, God, comic books, Star Wars and Jeremy Corbyn.


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To see this age! A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!
Nay, that's certain. They that dally nicely with words may quickly make them wanton.
I would, therefore, that my sister had had no name, sir.
Why, man?
Why, sir, her name's a word, and to dally with that word might make my sister wanton. But indeed, words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them.
They reason, man?
Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them. 
      Twelfth Night
 
--Shakespeare said some rather good things.
--I understand that he has given uniform satisfaction.
       Much Obliged, Jeeves.


[*] Guess which national newspaper seriously put this forward as an argument, in almost exactly those words. Go on. See if you can guess.

[**] “I have the very strong sense that the responsible majority of people in this country not only have that determination; they are crying out for their government to act upon it. And I can assure you, I will not be found wanting. In my very first act as leader of this party I signalled my personal priority: to mend our broken society. That passion is stronger today than ever. Yes, we have had an economic crisis to deal with, clearing up the terrible mess we inherited, and we are not out of those woods yet – not by a long way. But I repeat today, as I have on many occasions these last few years, that the reason I am in politics is to build a bigger, stronger society. Stronger families.  Stronger communities.  A stronger society. This is what I came into politics to do – and the shocking events of last week have renewed in me that drive. So I can announce today that over the next few weeks, I and ministers from across the coalition government will review every aspect of our work to mend our broken society. On schools, welfare, families, parenting, addiction, communities. On the cultural, legal, bureaucratic problems in our society too: from the twisting and misrepresenting of human rights that has undermined personal responsibility to the obsession with health and safety that has eroded people’s willingness to act according to common sense.”