Nonconformity, Part 1

Fifteen years ago, I painted a picture of a man sporting a business suit, carrying a brief case, and trudging down a narrow pathway that descended from the sky. It's a face of stone-he gazes stoically in front of him, his powerful jaw is set-grimness pervades the scene.

The man is the Everyman, walking a path made by everyone and everything that have ever existed, but who are not him. The painting conveys the sense of oppression that comes from the realization of one's station in life. You can see its weight pressing down upon his broad shoulders. It's the combined weight of present predictability, constant external control, and an ultimate fate beyond his choosing.

But we also see a stoic strength painted on his brow; a resolve as well as a hint of rebellion, a healthy hopeful angst. The narrow path of life,-the path made narrower by the alliance of religion, education, nationalism, ethnicity, gender, genetics, and all other forces thrust upon the individual without his express consent-these forces, will not guide him to his grave.  Not if he fights. Not if he triumphs over conformity.

These days I feel much the same as I did when I painted that picture as a freshman in college. My angst has not mellowed, nor has my determination to resist conformity weakened. Perhaps I'm more philosophical. I recognize that there does not exist entirely free courses of action, modes of thought, and ways to be. Even rebellion itself is a sort of conformity. Ultimately, free will may always be a dream kept alive by hopeful thinkers.

Fine. Even if we accept this proposition on one level, on another level there exists tipping points where real choices can be made. Maybe they're not entirely ours-external circumstances may bias our decisions. Our course of action may be predictable (by some hypothetical all seeing eye...). And we may rarely create the choices with which we are faced in the first place. But there is no denying that the most important decision of all is whether to pursue choice in life as well as the knowledge to make the best ones; or, rather, to avoid personal choice altogether by following the path of least resistance-by always doing what society expects of us.  

To choose or not to choose, that is the question. Depending upon how one answers this question, we can confidently predict how free one lives their life. If in the big picture we are never completely free, we can at least say that there is a freer and less free way to live. This is plain. A prisoner confined to a six by six foot cell is less free than a slave living on a plantation. An indentured servant might be more free than a slave but less free than someone engaged in ordinary contractual employment. And the ordinary workers with debt are less free than those without.

All of this is self evident. What is less obvious is the fact that we can be held back by more than concrete and steel bars, contracts, or lack of money. The latter are obstacles to freedom that require relatively straight forward if not always easy deterrent action (don't break the law, spend wisely, avoid slave owners...).  

I would like to examine the broader coercive, confining forces that are not so easily recognized for what they are. In many ways they are more sinister than physical bondage. They don't apologize for what they do. They pretend to free the soul, provide happiness, forgive sin, and define the purpose and meaning of our lives. These forces seek to control you by possessing your heart and programming your mind. If you offer them no resistance, you achieve absolute conformity. Using extreme language borrowed from Star Trek, we can say you become completely assimilated.

I believe we should resist those prevailing, dominant forces which, without an express awareness of their influences and a concerted effort to act freely for ourselves, would easily sweep us into their powerful currents and lead us to future destinations not of our own choosing. Personally, I'm not worried about adopting the thinking and lifestyles of people who have freed themselves from cognitive oppressors, like religion and nationalism. Specifically, its the mind control (which becomes life control) of these more menacing forces which demands passionate, energetic resistance by all those who value individual autonomy.

"Cognitive oppressors" sounds like something you might hear mumbled by a paranoid schizophrenic. I'm not worried about that impression. I have no doubt that cognitive oppressors are real, and are powerful historical phenomenon that to the present day undermine the integrity and liberty of the individual. Perfectly sane individuals could have an intelligent discussion about cultural phenomena and institutions that undermine freedom and the range of possible individual expression.  

All examples of cognitive oppressors achieve the end of greater conformity, but few succeed as well as religion.

If we're unlucky enough to be born into one, religion stakes a claim on our identity from the very beginning. We are taught fairy tales and told they are not only true, but contain the most important truths of our lives. Ingrained in these stories are rules of thought and conduct that we are expected to adhere to for the rest of our lives. We're told that our lives and afterlives depend upon whether or not we, in essence, surrender to religion's dictates.

Religion makes a lasting mental imprint upon our minds. We identify with our tribe's sect. Our religious pride and loyalty commits us to the policies of our religious leaders. We may simply strive to live according to our religion's basic principles. But we may also be called to serve, in peace or in battle.

Where, in a religious life properly lived, is there room for imagination, reason, or free choice? When you are born into a religion, or even a particular religious culture, you have not made a choice. You do not pick the rules, nor do you pick the ones worthy of obedience (not if you live righteously). Religious worship is well established by the time you enter this world. You may play a part; but only as a pawn expected to submit and sacrifice to the will of a greater authority. In short, religion is the antithesis of freedom.  Paradoxically, the individual is raised up only to be torn down.  You are what's most important.  But wait, its your purity and service to God that really matters.  

Its ironic that in this country, religious fundamentalists are so often the folks proclaiming their love of liberty. Perhaps these zealots are in fact living true to their dominant, conforming natures. After all, nationalism is nearly indistinguishable from religion. Both are cognitive oppressors.

Why would anyone be proud of something they were simply given at birth, like religious or national identity? Certainly, when ideals are well understood and considered, or when one achieves great things, pride is justified. But the gang-like allegiance and mentality underlying much of religious, national, and ethnic identity is utterly despicable. Truly these forces come to possess the minds and wills of people who may otherwise find their own voices and choose different paths in life.

Nationalism, like religious identity, stands unapologetically in opposition to rational thought. After the terrorist attacks of 9/11, reason became so compromised that in a few short years our national leaders were able launch an offensive war against a nation that had nothing to do with the tragedy in lower Manhattan. The rest of the world watched in amazement as a significant number of Americans protested against the violent agenda of their leaders and were utterly ignored. Instead, "Support Our Troops" magnets on the backs of SUVs and minivans filled the streets. The notion that opposing the government's policy towards Iraq was in some way NOT supporting America's soldiers was prevalent; yet the logical fallacy could only be made in a highly nationalistic environment.

Germany in the lead up to World War II perfectly illustrates how nationalistic pride easily trumps reason and morality.  One of the first subjects to really set my mind's internal gears spinning as a child was Nazism and the holocaust.  How could such an atrocity take place?  How could German citizens stand aside as millions of Jews were slaughtered in cold blood?  How could German soldiers, undoubtedly "ordinary" young men, actually take part in the killing?

There is no need to play the blame game.  People on both sides of religious debates charge that the other side is responsible for horrors like the Holocaust.  What seems to be indisputable is the fact that there was a sickening glut of conformity in Nazi Germany immediately prior to the Holocaust.  Thousands of minds became as one mind; and that one mind, best represented by Hitler himself, was demented.

It is disheartening in the extreme to witness the absolute loss of dignity that occurs when human minds are so easily possessed by charismatic leaders, powerful religions, tantalizing cults, popular trends, culture traps like gambling, political ideologies, etc, etc.  Morality has its foundation in the value of the individual.  When various forces lessen the individual, we risk losing track of what is right and what is wrong.

No one can ever be free from all influences, but the more we are aware of the major players, and the better we can sort out the influencers that are grounded in reason and respect for individuals from the forces that are not, the greater the chance we have to step off onto our own, unique path in life.  

The Infinite Universe and God

Nothing moves faster than light.  In the blink of an eye, electromagnetic radiation is over 60,000 miles away from its source. In one second, it travels 186,000 miles.  That's 671 million miles per hour.

For comparison's sake, the fastest thing made by man was the space probe Helios 2; which, in 1976, sped towards the Sun at approximately 150,000 mph.  The crew of the Apollo 10 mission moved faster than any other human when they reached speeds over 24,000 mph on their return trip from the Moon.  Astronauts have repeatedly reentered Earth's atmosphere in the space shuttle at approximately 7,500 mph (over 10 times faster than a bullet).

Still, none of mankind's progress in the pursuit of speed (which encompasses riding the backs of animals, capturing the wind, harnessing the efficiency of the wheel and cogs, directing expansive forces of steam and fossil fuels, combining avionics with jet propulsion, and using the gravity of the Sun and planets to accelerate the velocity of spaceships) have helped our movement appear to be anything more than standing still when compared to the speed of light.

Now consider that the universe is so big that distances between its features are typically thought of in terms of the distance light travels in one year.  One light year (ly) is approximately 6 trillion miles.  As a point of reference, our solar system is just light hours wide.  The closest neighboring star to our sun is over four light years away.  It's a wonder how we manage to remain calm in the face of such cosmic isolation...

If we boarded a train located at one end of the universe and moved at the speed of light towards the opposite end, in one year we would travel 6 trillion miles.  Assuming we boarded the train at age 20 and remained passengers until our deaths at 100, the distance we'd have traveled is 480 trillion miles.  Yet in terms of our overall journey, we would have barely left the station.  Moving at the speed of light, we (rather, what remains of us) would not reach our destination on the other side of the universe for at least 90 billion years (though nobody can really say when we'd get there, since these distances are based on what we can currently observe-who knows how much further out space extends?).  I think it's fair to say that the size of the universe is genuinely unfathomable.  And while the fact of the matter has yet to be established, for all intents and purposes, we can call the universe infinitely vast.

When we look up at night, only the tiniest fraction of the universe's light reaches our eyes; and despite our mind's inability to appreciate its true size, we somehow get a sense of its enormity.  We see and comprehend just enough to be filled with awe and wonder.  For some, that feeling alone is reason enough to make the grandest assumption of all.

Surely, it is argued, the incomprehensible size of the universe manifests the glory of its creator.  Look around; see the pyramids, the magnificent cathedrals, the monuments, and the towering skyscrapers.  These were built with design and purpose by great visionaries.  They were imagined and brought into being via the human mind and human hand.  Isn't it natural to think of the universe as the grandest of all cathedrals and the manifestation of a supreme mind-the cosmic architect?  Doesn't it make logical sense to conclude that only supreme greatness could construct the infinite cosmos?

It may be natural to imagine that a god is responsible for it all, but it's neither logical nor wise.  First, we have no right to draw conclusions from things we barely comprehend.  The tiny fraction of light that reaches our eyes when we look up at the night sky and the meager scientific knowledge we have regarding the universe does not allow for precise analogies or definite conclusions.  The universe is no cathedral, clearly.  A cathedral is a solid, unmoving object, whereas the universe consists mostly of empty space.  What little matter there is, relatively speaking, exists in a constant state of interaction with the rest of the universe.  One might say that the universe as a whole is more like a living thing than an inanimate man-made structure.  If we chose to imagine that the great cosmic systems are "alive", we are just as foolish for imagining a human-like master lording over it all.  On the grand scale, life and our presuppositions about the nature of God may be embarrassing trivialities.  In any case, we should refrain from pretending to see a pattern or meaning in something we are sorely ill equipped to comprehend.  Yes, let's speculate, but let's also remain humble in the face of such uncertainty and true to the little real knowledge which we possess.

Second, the largest, grandest things humans have observed are not man-made.  El Capitan, in Yosemite, is over twice as tall as the Empire State Building and six times as high as the Great Pyramid of Giza.  The mass and size of natural monuments like El Capitan or the Grand Canyon make the greatest of human creations seem like sand sculptures.  It's outrageously arrogant of us to point to our meager structures and compare them in any way to the natural world.  There simply is no comparison.  Saying that all things must have been built by the will and force of arms is a great conceit and an arrogant assumption.  Could we, in a million years, engineer a comet or construct the moon? ...let's not make the mistake of saying that because we cannot, someone must be able to.

There should be no confusion-the facts are plain.  What we built, we obviously built.  Everything else is either put together by other creatures which we can observe (like birds and their nests) or-barring evidence to the contrary-are not built at all. Rather, they were naturally formed.  Glaciers carved out Yosemite Valley and the Grand Canyon was formed over the last 17 million years by the erosive forces of the Colorado River.  Unless we find clues that the universe had an architect and builder, the assumption cannot be made, and we must hold to the position that unguided forces shape everything that we don't.  

Third and finally, there are fatal issues with determining what is "big" in a qualitative sense and thus drawing conclusions based on size.  If you found yourself standing next to a male African elephant, 13 feet tall at the shoulders and weighing 13,000 pounds, you might be tempted to declare that it is big-very, very big-before you bolted for safety. But is it, really?  For comparison, the elephant barely weighs as much as the tongue of a blue whale.  These largest of animals are as long as 10 elephants.  Still, a blue whale would resemble a minnow if it swam next to the world's largest boat, the oil tanker Seawise Giant, which spans the length of more than 15 adult blue whales.

You can guess where this is going.  The oil tanker is really small...compared to something else, like the Great Wall of China.  That enormous something else is in fact small when compared to something larger; say, Mount Everest.  There's no end to the comparisons. The point is, bigness is relative.  A qualitative "big" is elusive, if not impossible to determine.  Furthermore, there is no common trait shared by things just because they're considered "big".  No conclusion, no deduction, can be made, except for the obvious size comparisons and quantitative measurements.  With this in mind, referring to size (of the universe in this case) as a basis for belief in God is shown to be quite absurd.

Another fatal problem with using the concept of size as an argument for God is the difficulty in defining something as a one thing instead of a collection of smaller things.  One could argue that the universe does not exist, really.  Rather, it's a bunch of distinct, separate things: galaxies, stars, planets, dust, plasma, comets, etc.  A mountain is not really a mountain, one might say.  Instead, it's granite slabs, sediment, inanimate and animate organic materials, etc.  It makes one question what it is that one really means when they say that this or that is big...

Now there's nothing wrong with having a name for these things taken together.  "Universe" and "mountain" represent useful concepts; but when it comes to precisely representing reality, the words (like all words) fall short.  It may help us understand something in an important way if we take a step back and see its myriad features in one big picture; but in doing so, we voluntarily turn a blind eye to the fine details which contain the majority of knowledge and potential for understanding.

This point about the slipperiness of the concept of size is an argument for science-for ways of defining the nature of things in precise terms-as much as it is an argument against the claim that the universe's great size is evidence of a creator.

It seems natural to make the assumption that within such an infinitely vast space, there exists an infinitely powerful being.  Being brought up in our culture we are led to believe as much.  Logically, however, it is an unjustifiable assumption.  The god of Christians may exist, but the likelihood of his existence is no more than the possibility that we are descendant of an alien race (a far more plausible explanation for our presence on Earth, actually...).  Given the complete lack of scientific evidence for the Christian god, one must conclude that all kinds of strange, powerful beings with a complete range of interest in the human race-from no knowledge to total apathy to complete hostility-are just as likely to exist in the universe.  The fact that humans cling to their traditional notions about The Universe and God just demonstrates our complete lack of imagination.  I predict that as our collective imagination expands, our commitment to the god of our ancestors will dissolve, essentially freeing the human will to finally attend fully and rightly to ourselves.