Sunday, November 28, 2010

Science and Religion

So I've been meaning to write something on religion and science for a while. My few attempts have been, well, pretty pathetic. In place of my writing, I'm going to quote an essay by Einstein here which I think is the most reasonable approach to the debate I've ever read.

Religion and Science: Irreconcilable?

Does there truly exist an insuperable contradiction between religion and science? Can religion be superseded by science? The answers to these questions have, for centuries, given rise to considerable dispute and, indeed, bitter fighting. Yet, in my own mind there can be no doubt that in both cases a dispassionate consideration can only lead to a negative answer. What complicates the solution, however, is the fact that while most people readily agree on what is meant by "science," they are likely to differ on the meaning of "religion."

As to science, we may well define it for our purpose as "methodical thinking directed toward finding regulative connections between our sensual experiences." Science, in the immediate, produces knowledge and, indirectly, means of action. It leads to methodical action if definite goals are set up in advance. For the function of setting up goals and passing statements of value transcends its domain. While it is true that science, to the extent of its grasp of causative connections, may reach important conclusions as to the compatibility and incompatibility of goals and evaluations, the independent and fundamental definitions regarding goals and values remain beyond science's reach.

As regards religion, on the other hand, one is generally agreed that it deals with goals andevaluations and, in general, with the emotional foundation of human thinking and acting, as far as these are not predetermined by the inalterable hereditary disposition of the human species. Religion is concerned with man's attitude toward nature at large, with the establishing of ideals for the individual and communal life, and with mutual human relationship. These ideals religion attempts to attain by exerting an educational influence on tradition and through the development and promulgation of certain easily accessible thoughts and narratives (epics and myths) which are apt to influence evaluation and action along the lines of the accepted ideals.

It is this mythical, or rather this symbolic, content of the religious traditions which is likely to come into conflict with science. This occurs whenever this religious stock of ideas contains dogmatically fixed statements on subjects which belong in the domain of science. Thus, it is of vital importance for the preservation of true religion that such conflicts be avoided when they arise from subjects which, in fact, are not really essential for the pursuance of the religious aims.

When we consider the various existing religions as to their essential substance, that is, divested of their myths, they do not seem to me to differ as basically from each other as the proponents of the "relativistic" or conventional theory wish us to believe. And this is by no means surprising. For the moral attitudes of a people that is supported by religion need always aim at preserving and promoting the sanity and vitality of the community and its individuals, since otherwise this community is bound to perish. A people that were to honor falsehood, defamation, fraud, and murder would be unable, indeed, to subsist for very long.

When confronted with a specific case, however, it is no easy task to determine clearly what is desirable and what should be eschewed, just as we find it difficult to decide what exactly it is that makes good painting or good music. It is something that may be felt intuitively more easily than rationally comprehended. Likewise, the great moral teachers of humanity were, in a way, artistic geniuses in the art of living. In addition to the most elementary precepts directly motivated by the preservation of life and the sparing of unnecessary suffering, there are others to which, although they are apparently not quite commensurable to the basic precepts, we nevertheless attach considerable importance. Should truth, for instance, be sought unconditionally even where its attainment and its accessibility to all would entail heavy sacrifices in toil and happiness? There are many such questions which, from a rational vantage point, cannot easily be answered or cannot be answered at all. Yet, I do not think that the so-called "relativistic" viewpoint is correct, not even when dealing with the more subtle moral decisions.

When considering the actual living conditions of presentday civilized humanity from the standpoint of even the most elementary religious commands, one is bound to experience a feeling of deep and painful disappointment at what one sees. For while religion prescribes brotherly love in the relations among the individuals and groups, the actual spectacle more resembles a battlefield than an orchestra. Everywhere, in economic as well as in political life, the guiding principle is one of ruthless striving for success at the expense of one's fellow. men. This competitive spirit prevails even in school and, destroying all feelings of human fraternity and cooperation, conceives of achievement not as derived from the love for productive and thoughtful work, but as springing from personal ambition and fear of rejection.

There are pessimists who hold that such a state of affairs is necessarily inherent in human nature; it is those who propound such views that are the enemies of true religion, for they imply thereby that religious teachings are utopian ideals and unsuited to afford guidance in human affairs. The study of the social patterns in certain so-called primitive cultures, however, seems to have made it sufficiently evident that such a defeatist view is wholly unwarranted. Whoever is concerned with this problem, a crucial one in the study of religion as such, is advised to read the description of the Pueblo Indians in Ruth Benedict's book, Patterns of Culture. Under the hardest living conditions, this tribe has apparently accomplished the difficult task of delivering its people from the scourge of competitive spirit and of fostering in it a temperate, cooperative conduct of life, free of external pressure and without any curtailment of happiness.

The interpretation of religion, as here advanced, implies a dependence of science on the religious attitude, a relation which, in our predominantly materialistic age, is only too easily overlooked. While it is true that scientific results are entirely independent from religious or moral considerations, those individuals to whom we owe the great creative achievements of science were all of them imbuedwith the truly religious conviction that this universe of ours is something perfect and susceptible to the rational striving for knowledge. If this conviction had not been a strongly emotional one and if those searching for knowledge had not been inspired by Spinoza's Amor Dei Intellectualis, they wouid hardly have been capable of that untiring devotion which alone enables man to attain his greatest achievements.

Source: http://einsteinandreligion.com/irrec.html

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The Many Faces of Me

A couple weeks ago in DC, I met up with my friend AJ - former McGuire Campus Ministry Intern, fellow thinker, and Mario Kart Jedi - for some brunch with a side of catching up. We talked about life, dreams (including his pitch for an Inception-based TV series), lady friends, the Rally to Restore Sanity, our thoughts on said Rally, being abroad. It was the kind of conversation that would happen multiple times a week at Villanova but never seems to happen back in Jersey. I felt refreshed after wrapping up our personal and intelligent (at least by my standards) talk and I rejoined my friends.

As I approached my group of friends, I could hear their conversation from several feet away, as I'm sure the marathon runners and spectators within a block radius could too. The topic: everyone's shits that morning. Size, density, texture - no details were spared. The morning before I probably would not have thought twice about such a convo, but after talking to AJ it seemed odd to me. But why?

I've realized more and more, that my context - who I'm with and where I am - has a much larger influence on my behavior than I am comfortable with. For example, since coming home earlier this year I've noticed myself becoming a vulgar smartass who can only display his affections through a neverending series of insults. Fuck, shit, and dick have made their way into my everyday vocabulary. I've talked more about boobs - not anyone's in particular but just about the general idea of boobs - more in the past month than I have about values.

This past weekend I headed out to Penn State with my old roomie Scott and our buddy's girlfriend. In the car, I said "fuck" a couple of times and felt like a horrible person and apologized each time. What the fuck is that about? Was it their reactions? Was it some subconscious part of me that just "knew" better than to use such base language around such sophisticated and well-mannered company?

It goes deeper than language, however. In that same car ride, we had some great conversations about Germany, my experiences in Latin America, Scott's experiences living around the country with Americorps. We talked about politics and the media. We spoke about ideas and "deep" topics. It all just happened naturally. Not once were boobs mentioned. Nor were farts.

Clearly, the person I was at 'Nova is different than the person I was at home growing up and in between school years. Or was I? In Germany, anyone who knew me before and after can tell you that I seemed different when I came home, but I'm obviously not the same person I was in Germany (unless I'm with my friends from Germany and then I revert). The same could be said for my time in Central America.

It seems that I am a different person in different places and when surrounded by different people. So my question is, "Who am I?" Am I inconsistent or adaptable? Does it even matter? Maybe I just have different ways of sharing myself with others depending on who they are and the context we find ourselves in. Is there anything wrong with that?

Regardless of the answer to these questions, I know one thing for certain. There is a "me" I want to be. As long as I focus on keeping that person in sight, I will learn more and more how to be the ideal me in whatever situation I find myself.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Wants and Needs

I ran to my car this morning in the cold rain, happy that at least I didn't have to deal with the frost this morning. I pulled out my iPod from the center console so I could practice my German lessons as I drove down the Turnpike. The iPod felt frigid in my hand and, after switching the hold button back and forth several times, I realized it was beyond resuscitation. "Damn it!" I cursed to myself, "Now I'm going to need a new iPod." The second statement sounded ridiculous to some part of me, and that more reasonable side responded, "Really, Tom? You need a new iPod?"

Instead of awkwardly talking to myself in German as I drove down the Turnpike,
this event sparked an interesting pseudo-Socratic dialogue in my head. "You don't really need a new iPod, Tom. You want one. Sure, it let you listen to music and German lessons whenever you wanted, it made your life slightly more convenient, but you never really needed it. In fact, you lived most of your life without an iPod and you hardly even used the one you broke."

And, of course, I was right. I didn't need it. But it led me on an interesting inward search. What else did I want but not truly need. It kind of went as follows:

Tom 1: My car. Without a doubt, I need my car, right?

Tom 2: Do you?

Tom 1: Of course. How else would I get to work?

Tom 2: Well, there's a train not far from your house that goes to New Brunswick and you have a bike.

Tom 1: Yeah, but that's just silly.

Tom 2: But it's a possibility, no?

Tom 1: I guess.

Tom 2: So, then your car isn't a necessity. It's a convenience. It facilitates your commute and gives you that much extra free time and money. Those are all good things, but you don't need them. You want them.

Tom 1: Hm... I guess you're right Tom 2. But what about something even more basic, like shelter, food and water? I wouldn't be able to live without those.

Tom 2: Well, why do you need those?

Tom 1: Because without them I would die!

Tom 2: So, you want to live?

Tom 1: Yes! Duh.

Tom 2: But do you need to live? I'll give you the answer: it's no. You want to live because living is enjoyable. When you live, you get to do things like make friends, accomplish goals, enjoy good food, have sex, cuddle afterwards, and so on. When you're dead, you most likely can't do any of these. You want to live because living can be very enjoyable and is probably more enjoyable than the alternative. You want to have shelter, to eat, and to drink so you can live.

So I'll stop my silly little dialogue there. My point is this. In our heads, we may tell ourselves we "need" this or that, but really it boils down to us "wanting" this or that. When we say the word "need," it's as if we are chained to that need and cannot possibly escape it. It's a lie, and if left unchecked, it can leave us feeling like prisoner's of circumstance.

My iPod broke and that sucks. I don't need a new one, and I'm not even really sure if I want one either. I know that what I want is to make the most of my life, regardless of the situation. I will do what it takes to do that, with or without an iPod.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Risk, Security and Life Decisions

After a day filled with hangovers, the sanest rally ever, hours of intense ping pong, and Chipotle burritos to prepare our bellies for the night, my friends and I cracked open a couple beers in my buddy's apartment in Arlington. A few deep, I said that a big part of me wants to leave my job, move out into/near NYC or DC, and use what little money I've saved to support myself while I find actual work.

As usual, Joe had a very strong opinion and told me that was about as foolish a thing as I could do. "You can't leave your job if you don't have another job lined up, especially not after working there only a few months." It wasn't a very controversial stance. I'm sure at least 85% of people would agree with him, as Mark did.

"But why?" I responded, trying to challenge the conventional wisdom.

They followed up with the usual reasons: it looks bad to switch jobs so frequently, what if things go wrong and I don't have health insurance or if I get into a car accident and I end up in the hole for $14,000.

"I don't think that way," I retorted.

"But you have to," both agreed. "You can't just be optimistic and expect that to get you by."

And so the conversation continued this way. It was one of the few passionate discussions about life I've ever shared with this group of friends. But - obviously since I am writing a post about it - it has stuck with me.

I would not disagree that you have to be aware of the worst that can happen to you, but to live your life trying to avoid any bad thing that can happen to you is futile and possibly harmful to you for several reasons.

1) Bad things are going to happen to you regardless your situation. My friend used his car accident as an example, but the irony of his comment is that the crash happened while he was living his "safe/smart" plan (the ""s aren't meant to be insulting; we just disagreed about the word "safe" and "smart"). You can't control what life throws at you; you can only control how you react, which brings me to point 2.

2) Life is a state of mind, and you will see what you want to. If you want to see each day as an opportunity to learn, grow, and help others do the same, life will be just that. If you choose to see each day as filled with potential perils, life will seem pretty dangerous. Living in a way that avoids pain, confrontation, accidents, and failure can trick your brain into convincing you that, should any of these things happen, there is no way you could deal with it.

3) Adaptability is a skill. Like any skill, some people are naturally better at it than others, but anyone can improve themselves tremendously with diligence, patience and determination. I have found that in situations of pain and discomfort I learn and grow the most. They force me to challenge what I thought up to that moment. They give me the choice to crumble or learn resilience and find a way to not only live through it, but to improve myself through it. In deaths, breakups, and my own failures I have learned much about myself. In putting myself in situations where I am uncomfortable - ranging from traveling Central America alone to stepping up to a Ping Pong table against someone who is much better than me - I learn how to adapt and how to deal with discomfort. In doing so, I gain a better understanding of myself and how I react to things. This allows me to put myself in new situations and not be afraid.

In the end, however, neither the risky side or the safer side is the right choice. Rather, as Aristotle says with his Golden Mean, we have to find a balance between the two and develop the ability to discern when it is proper to lean more one way or the other. Moving out so soon may turn out to be a move too impulsive even for me, and I definitely have to do some more reflecting on it before I decide what I'm going to do and when I'm going to do it. But if I do it, what's the worst that could happen? I think I could 1) die or 2) break my neck, both of which could happen at any time in my life. Less severe, I could get injured without being insured and leave myself in debt that would be with me for potentially most of my life. I could deal with that one, as big of a bitch as it might be. Even more benign, I could waste my money, not find a job, and have to move back home. Though it would be a shot to the ego for sure, it's hardly something I would call life shattering. And though it would be easy to point a finger in my face and say "We told you so," the lessons I'd learn would be invaluable. Plus, I'd rather risk and lose then never take a chance in the first place.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Focus

Focus.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

In everything that you do, focus.

If you're talking on the phone to a friend, focus. Make your mind and attention as present to that person as your voice is.

If you are filing at work, focus. Take that menial, mundane task and do it right.

If you are exercising, focus. Are you fatigued? Are you pushing yourself as hard as you can. Do you have proper form? Learn to recognize your body's signs and know its limitations. Only then can you improve.

If you are eating, focus. Savor the taste of the food and think about what it is doing for your body. Is it nourishing you or is it just a little snack? Should you keep eating or are you already satisfied?

If you are driving, focus.

If you are tying your shoe, focus.

If you are walking into a new room, focus.

If you are writing a blog entry that six people will read, focus.

If you are singing in the car alone, focus.

In everything that you do, focus.

When you focus on what you are doing, you become aware. When you are aware, you learn. When you learn, you gain control. When you have control, you can change yourself as you see fit.

If you do not focus on the little things, the big things will never change. We are what we do habitually and life is but a series of small seemingly insignificant moments. Squander one moment and you may squander a lifetime. Make the most of each, big and small.

All you have to do is focus.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Driving Games

Probably my least favorite thing about suburban life is the fact that I have to drive everywhere I go. Sure, when it's nice out I like to bike but 1) people are crazy, especially in cars, and you have to have some sort of secret death wish to pedal too far away from your driveway 2) you can't go more than a mile in any direction without running into a highway and 3) after three minutes of physical activity my body covers itself in a liquid that is somewhere between sweat and a frog's mucousy coating, not the most attractive mix. So between my car and the time I spend sitting in my office job, my body is usually bent into a couple 90 degree angles (also, check out this article on why that is a very, very bad thing: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/39523298/ns/health-mens_health/).

Driving around here, you realize that lots of other people are in the same predicament and you all usually spend a lot of time together on highways, usually not going very fast. When I'm stuck in the car for too long, my mind gets bored. When my mind gets bored, it likes to sleep. (People who know me well know that I can sleep on command). Sleeping at the wheel is not good, though I admit that I have come dangerously close.

The remedy, I have found, is to actually focus on driving. But how do you focus on something as monotonous and boring as lifting your foot on and off the brake pedal for hours on end. Easy. Make it fun.

For instance, when stuck in bumper to bumper traffic on a highway, I've been trying to crack the code of traffic patterns to determine which lane is the best to be in. In most cases, barring some construction and unexpected lane closures, the right lane is the way to go, only dipping over to the middle lane when stuck behind someone who brakes way too soon or when approaching an onramp. The left lane should rarely be used. The theory: most people think the left lane will move quickest and the only people exiting are on the right side. Makes sense. The hypothesis has not been thoroughly tested, however, and further investigation needs to conducted.

In my angstier, more self-righteous days, I used to play "Superhero," where I was an ordinary citizen whose duty was to protect my fellow drivers from the assholes of the road. You know who I'm talking about. The guys who cut you off without signaling, who ride up on your butt and then recklessly swerve around you, whose mufflers have been modified to make sure you know exactly how loud and obnoxious they are. I would see them cut someone off and then try to speed ahead through an impassable line of traffic. They would squeeze through, nearly causing a three car pileup in their wake. It was my duty to stop them. I would speed ahead of such a villain and then casually slow down to the speed limit. These people hate nothing more than someone going the speed limit. They would switch over to the right and try to speed ahead of me. I'd hit the gas and speed up just enough to align myself with another car, ensuring they could not pass and that they were safely boxed into between several speeding bodies of steel. They would always get away, probably angrier and more aggressive than before they ran into me. I wasn't a very good superhero.

A friend of mine told me that he plays "Shark Attack" sometimes. He'll pull up next to a car. And then change lanes in front of it. And then changes lanes to the opposite side of it. And then brake and get behind it. And then repeat that whole process. It sounded funny, but it's a lot more lane changing and braking than I prefer.

But lately, I've been playing what I refer to simply as "The Game." It's best played when there are moderate amounts of traffic that is steadily moving. The goal of the game: get through the traffic. The catch: you have to use your brakes as little as possible and drive like a somewhat courteous driver, i.e. use your signals, don't cut anyone off or tailgate unless necessary, and don't go too fast. Any asshole could drive a 100mph, then slam on the brakes, and then jerk his car over to the next lane forcing the little old lady in her Honda Accord to slam on her brakes. This game is more of a ballet than break dancing. It is about control, fluidity and efficiency. It's a puzzle at high speeds, except the pieces and the solutions are constantly changing. You anticipate, who is going where and when. It is a calculation based not on numbers, but by an instinct that must be developed over time. It is mentally enthralling.

More importantly, it keeps me awake.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Projects and Purpose

"Tommy, go look outside," my dad excitedly commanded while my little sister gave me the oh-my-goodness-I-can't-believe-what-daddy-just-did eyes. I walked outside and saw that was just hours before a ten foot high, fifteen foot wide bush was now reduced to a monstrous mound of discarded branches and two sad-looking stumps. "Call Paul," he told me, "We're starting today."

What I thought was only an overambitious dream to build a backyard pool bar thought up over the weekend - "the project" as we labeled it from the start - was now a plan officially laid into action. After a day of digging and pouring cement, a couple days of cutting and leveling foundation boards, and then a long afternoon of power-screwing down vinyl decking, we had something. We weren't quite sure what it was yet, other than a nicely laid trapezoidal deck. That week I came home from my 3 hour geometry class, changed, and worked my ass off for a solid 8 hours each day. I didn't feel tired; just the opposite. I was exhilarated. We were building something from nothing. No professional consultation, no 3-d images rendered, not even a little sketch - we were reshaping wood and vinyl to fit some vague vision my father had, and then reshaping the vision to fit what we were actually producing.

The next week the walls were erected. Suddenly, we were hoisting up beams for the roof and the skeleton was finished. Then we were hammering plywood, tacking in shingles, and siding.

The work became more sporadic from there and after Paul and I found full-time jobs we lost some of the zeal of the first month. Nevertheless, for better of for worse, it stands finished, powered, and with comfy seats.

Before we started the project, I found myself in a bit of a rut. My teaching gig was starting up and I loved that, but I still didn't have anything lined up after the class. Working on something I cared about, learning new skills, and sharing that sense of accomplishment with my best friend and my dad gave me a purpose and made me forget about my uncertain immediate future.

Since we finished the project, I've been working my new job, processing new applications and answering phone calls. It is not glamorous work, but it's also not grueling work that's going to break my back or lead to a severed limb. At worst, I'd say I become a bit more nearsighted. It's definitely not something I can find much purpose in, at least not like I did putting myself into the project. I don't know about everyone else, but I've realized that I need purpose in my life, something to work towards, something that helps me be better tomorrow than I am today.