Thursday, November 27, 2014

The mind that seeks to perfect itself

One day I’ll throw my computer on the scrap heap. But first I’ll transfer the software to a new machine. My brain will soon be rotting in the ground. But my words come alive each time you read them.

Of course there can’t be words without human bodies to speak them. Hardware requires proper maintenance and care. But the purpose of life is to perfect the mind—and, someday, to convey its perfected contents to other minds. Why do I devote so much attention to pampering and grooming my mortal hardware, and so little to perfecting my immortal software?

The mind that seeks to perfect itself is in one sense humble. It’s aware how far it still has to go. But in another sense the mind that seeks to perfect itself is exalted. No matter how many setbacks it encounters, it never gives up its aspiration to perfection.

As a scientist, I can account for observed facts in nature with rigorous and plausible theories. I can understand how and why the marvels of engineering and medicine work. But in other respects my worldview seems unpalatable. I live in a meaningless mechanical universe. I’m just a biological machine. My mind’s aspiration to perfect itself seems like a pointless idiosyncratic form of arrogance.

The religious worldview also has advantages. My aspiration to be perfect as my Heavenly Father is perfect is glorified. I live in a loving community where all help each other flourish and grow nearer to God. But this worldview also has its problems. My aspiration to be perfect can’t include an aspiration to understand the facts of nature. Technical marvels shouldn’t work at all in my worldview, and yet I continue to rely on them every day.

I hope to persuade you there might be a third choice, a form of intellectual life that preserves the virtues of the scientific worldview, and also has some of the virtues of the religious worldview. I make no claims of anything supernatural. My only claim is that the life of the mind, whether you choose to call it intellectual life or spiritual life, is worthy of all the attention and reverence the world’s religions have accorded to it.

Siddhartha didn’t know a thing about axons, dendrites, neurotransmitters, receptor sites, ion channels or membrane potentials. And yet he provides an exquisite way of taming the vast profusion of rogue processes that perpetually plague my mind.

A programmer with no clue how a microprocessor works can still write good code. And a saint or sage with no clue how the brain works might still have exquisite advice for care and maintenance of the mind.

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Be not conformed unto the age

“Be not conformed unto the age,” says Paul. Bid good-bye to the temporal word. Live in the world of eternity. The news doesn’t concern you unless you can do something to help. The body and its desires don’t concern you except so far as you need to survive. The conveniences peddled in Madison Avenue—the sensory stimulation peddled in Hollywood—these don’t concern you at all.

The world of today is enslaved to the senses. Our eyes are drawn to beautiful people and beautiful things. The first step you can take to perfect your mind is to disavow all sensory pleasure and confine yourself to intellectual pleasure. No games. No shows. No ornaments. No elaborate meals. The life of the senses should be as simple as possible. This way it distracts as little as possible from a flourishing intellectual life.

When you conform to the present age, you reverse the hierarchy between soul and senses. The deck hands are in control. And they’re taking the ship on a course to destruction. The captain must wrest control from the senses, and redirect the ship on the path to truth, to virtue, to God.

“Be ye perfect as your heavenly father is perfect.” Study mathematics and bear witness to its truths. Study whatever your mind has an appetite for, whatever it needs to grow and flourish. Resist the temptation to indulge the senses. Indulge the mind.

I tell you these things because I love you. I love you as much as I love myself, and I desperately want you to escape the tyranny of the senses and join me in the joyous life of intellectual flourishing. After the senses are sated you feel as empty as you began. But the pleasure of learning leads you to ever new heights, to ever renewed pleasure, to a path of intellectual flourishing that never ceases so long as you live.

Our age detests peddlers of sensory stimulus in the Tenderloin. But it gives highest honors to peddlers of sensory stimulus in Hollywood and Madison Avenue. Which distractions are sanctioned, which are rewarded, this varies from age to age. Don’t allow yourself to be seduced by any distraction, whether the present age happens to allow it or not.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Nietzsche's Zarathustra: Rescuing religion from the death of the creator-God

“Hold your highest hopes holy,” says Zarathustra in one breath, and “God is dead” in another. For Nietzsche the creator God is forever gone. But the God that represents man’s highest hopes and aspirations remains very much alive.

What Nietzsche fears most is that creator-man will die along with his creator-God, leaving nothing but “the last man” who has transformed himself into a mere component of an orderly industrial machine. The last man “makes all things small,” including himself. He no longer aspires to create something great, but only to play his tiny part in the machine. The last man enjoys his entertainment, but it must always remain superficial. “He's careful that his entertainment never takes hold of him.”

When duty makes man small, as it does in an industrial society that asks him to become a gear in a vast machine, man must cast a “holy no” in the face of duty. Creating freedom is the first step of all creativity. In the past man put “thou shalt” in his holiest place. “Now he must find frenzy and willfulness in his holiest place.” Creativity demands saying no to the duty that makes man small, and then “a new beginning, a first movement, a holy yes-saying.”

“If you can’t be the holy men of insight, at least be its warriors, the vehicles and harbingers of its holiness.” Nietzsche envisions a new religion where all the piety and reverence we had once directed to the unknown God is directed to a God of insight. He wants us to retain all the evangelical fervor we have lavished on the gospel, but now directed towards a new gospel of creative searching.

What is most praiseworthy is what is most difficult. The next step on the path to greatness is the one that leads uphill. You will invariably seem eccentric. No one will understand your path, except the friend willing to walk beside you.

“To value is to create.” The last man no longer creates. So he can no longer value. What his neighbor seems to value, he avidly adopts as his value. But his neighbor doesn’t create either. The carcasses of dead values circulate in place of living ones. And the stench is overwhelming.

“You must want to burn up in your own flame. How will you become new if you haven't first turned to ashes?” Nietzsche, like Jesus, wants his disciples to die to the world and be born again. Baptism of fire prepares us for a new life of courageous creativity.