How committed to truth are we? Do we readily indulge in fancy at the
expense of truth, because fancy appears more consistent with our
wishes? What if truth was compatible with meaning and happiness within
the limits of life, provided wisdom brought it to light?
All too often, the quest for truth – which admittedly can only yield a
qualified success in the best case scenario – is tainted with laxity
and fancifulness, and hence is doomed to a pitiable result, not to say
failure.
Strangely enough, Blaise Pascal, a famous mathematician and
philosopher, is also the eccentric author of a wager according to which
the belief in God (or more precisely in heaven as a divine reward for
virtue) is defensible to the extent that it is desirable, even though
it cannot be proven. Actually, it is supposedly defensible because not
only cannot it be proven, it also cannot be disproven. So desirableness
is considered a valid foundation for belief, absent provableness and
disprovableness! The door is open to every wild fancy, as long as we
lack the empirical means of discrediting it.
— Who have you invited to dinner, dear?
— Some fabulous folks, my love.
— Great! And who exactly are these folks?
— I don’t know, but they’re fabulous.
— Hum! How can you say they’re fabulous if you don’t know them?
— Our neighbor across the road told me so.
— Forgive me for asking, dear, but isn't that neighbor somewhat loopy?
The story about angels watching over us sounds like wishful thinking to
me.
— This loopy neighbor, as you say, is more fun to listen to than your professor friends, with all due respect.
— But don't you think…
— Forget about thinking; I’m in the mood for a dinner with some fabulous folks.
(If you feel this is a bit of sexist humor, note that I have made no
mention of genders. The prejudices that offend us are sometimes very
much our own. Remember also that Blaise Pascal was a man.)
Personally, I am not willing to forget about thinking. However
attractive a claim may be, this attractiveness must be accompanied by
credibleness – which is a function of provableness and trustworthiness
– before I let it shape my view and govern my life. When credibleness
is wanting, I reserve judgment until further notice and meanwhile
accept reality as it appears to be, judging from facts and solid
arguments, even if this appearance is not consistent with a so-called
ideal world. Call me austere (not ready to indulge in the luxury of
extravagant beliefs), a man of reason who associates his intellectual
austerity with intellectual integrity.
Having said this, the reverse attitude is common, especially in matters
that are beyond the realm of experience and hence can neither be proven
nor disproven. For example, as regards their future – here below or in
the hereafter – many do not reserve judgment or keep their minds open
to all possibilities, ranging from disastrous to glorious. Instead they
believe a heavenly tale because they fancy believing it and often also
because a charismatic fortuneteller or spiritual leader, allegedly
endowed with supernatural powers, is the originator of this tale.
In its wildest and blindest form, optimism coupled with faith is
illustrative of this attitude. Is it fanciful and naïve, or even
foolish? I am tempted to say yes, and yet I will resist this
temptation. There is no denying that the inveterate optimists-believers
derive significant enjoyment from seeing their future through
rose-colored spectacles. In view of this enjoyment, a sophisticated
better like Blaise Pascal will argue that these spectacles are worth
wearing, at the risk of laboring under a delusion. I myself lack the
grace or the guile of innocent or calculating souls to whom ignorance
is bliss.
I am all the stauncher as a committed realist since life in itself –
without fables and despite the adversities that are part and parcel of
it – has meaning to my mind. Furthermore, I contend that religion (as a
provider of a questionable but meaningful myth that makes a blissful
afterlife the purpose of life) is often a poor substitute for wisdom.
It is designed to offset the feeling of dissatisfaction that shadows
the foolish if often profound concept of existential absurdity. The
more deficient in wisdom, the more avid for religion (as defined above)
one is.
Now, what is the content of this wisdom, or what is the meaning of life
within the limits of life? I have answered this question to the best of
my ability in my book A REASON FOR LIVING; and my answer – like any
answer to this question – is sure to be both at odds and in keeping
with yours. But then, the antithesis of statements and disagreements
can usefully stimulate the intellect to resolve the oppositions and
achieve a new and superior synthesis.
Be that as it may, this antithesis betrays the imperfection of
individual wisdoms. At best, they are true up to a point, and we can
persistently overpass this point while the complete truth indefinitely
recedes like the horizon as we advance toward it. There are as many
wisdoms as there are individuals; nevertheless their subjectiveness
admits of much intersubjectiveness or deep intellectual kinship.
Let us explore a number of cardinal facts and logical assumptions based on facts.
1) The observable universe is the obvious manifestation of a tendency
toward order. Ordered things and beings (that show their attraction for
a particular inert or living state), ordered behaviors and thoughts
(that aim at specific achievements and feelings in preference to
others), all this testifies to the tendency in question, which can be
called the principle of universal order. The oneness of this principle
is not merely nominal. It is fundamental, as demonstrated by the
unitary if complex human nature, which comprises every physical and
nonphysical aspect of the observable universe.
2) The observation of the universe relates to observers: humans, in the
present instance. It is limited to the observable manifestations of
this universe, or provides a basis for knowledge only within the limits
of these manifestations. Everything beyond these limits – that is,
everything that is not observably manifest – transcends our ability to
know it. Nevertheless, as Kant pointed out, our inability to know it
does not suppress our curiosity. Whereas some accept the limits of
knowledge, many don’t. Their effort to penetrate the transcendental
mystery ought to yield nothing except fancy.
3) There are, however, various degrees of fancy. At one extreme, fancy
is grossly unfounded or rests on the highly suspicious claims of
inspired visionaries regarding the great beyond. At the other extreme,
fancy is very much tempered with reason. It is reminiscent of poetry,
which assimilates certain things to kindred things through metaphors
and similes.
Take for example the predictions of learned and intuitive futurists
about the distant future of humanity. They clearly overstep the limits
of knowledge, and yet they are believable to the extent that they are
conceivable, given the way this knowledge represents humans and the
world they inhabit. Take also for example the conjectures of learned
and intuitive philosophers about the intimate nature of nonhuman beings
or things beyond their observable characteristics. Like the
above-mentioned predictions, they clearly overstep the limits of
knowledge, and yet they are believable to the extent that they are
conceivable, given the way this knowledge represents humans and
nonhuman beings or things.
4) With respect to our human nature, observations include
introspections and reveal both the spiritual and material aspects of
this nature. Since we measure the value of life in terms of pleasure
(sensual, intellectual, or moral), it is safe to say that the spiritual
aspect is preeminent.
By underscoring the pleasure principle in moral matters, I imply that
even the most edifying proof of nobility comprises an element of
self-interest. Indeed, nobility is an ideal in the pursuit of which the
noble soul takes pleasure – not the low sort of pleasure that one
derives from such activities as feasting on a palatable dish or having
intercourse with a seductive lover, but the most elevated sort.
Therefore, self-interest and nobility are not mutually exclusive. When
they come together, the former is exalted by the latter.
5) As we fathom our human nature, we ultimately acknowledge the
principle of universal order as the essence of our being, which can
normally acquire habits – of thought or behavior – that are conducive
to well-being. And so gratitude adds to the acknowledgment, though
misery may reverse this attitude when it plagues us despite ourselves.
Why such misery? There is no answer to this question. We can ascertain
the possibility of misery; we cannot explain it. Saying that the
principle of universal order is such as to permit the occurrence of
misery is like saying that misery is because it can be, which is no
explanation. In short, misery is a mystery; and the best we can do is
fight and overcome it, or resign ourselves to it when it is insuperable.
Actually, we can do better. We can regard misery as a precious
opportunity for courage and merit, whereas an absolutely blissful and
effortless life would require no courage and hence afford no merit.
But what about extreme cases where we are truly miserable and helpless?
We can then take comfort from the knowledge that the principle of
universal order is the essence of our being. Each of us is a single
human incarnation of this principle among countless other like
incarnations, which offer the prospect of a meritorious happiness
through considerable effort.
