Ye Gods, We Hardly Knew Ye

The forum discussion following an article on AlterNet a few days ago got me to thinking about science and technology and how we humans show a marked tendency to abuse them. In particular, our overreliance on technology to solve all our problems puts us in the same moral category as the drug-addicted; the mindset (if a little bit is good, more is better) is exactly the same. When we don’t get the desired results, we tend to kick it up a notch, creating endless cycles of bad choices to wipe out the ill effects of previous bad choices. In the end it’s a zero-sum game.

To avoid any confusion about the differences between science and technology, suffice to say that science is more about the process of discovery, of proving or disproving any given theory. On the other hand, technology is more about practical applications of science, of putting scientific discoveries—through innovation and invention—into practice.

(It’s a popular misconception that science and technology will save us from the long-term unintended consequences of past scientific and technological pursuits, despite contraindications that we humans are about to be buried under the rubble of science and technology gone awry. The trouble, of course, is that the solution to one problem begets many more problems, all or none of which might or might not be related to the original problem. One can argue, not too logically, that we need more technology to deal with the problems we already have, but new technology would only bring new problems—amply demonstrated by every technological advance throughout recorded history—so that argument quickly falls apart.

By now you’re probably thinking I’m a Luddite. Maybe I am. But you should know that I’m also an avid sci-fi fan, and that I find science and technology deeply interesting and endlessly fascinating; nothing does more to kindle the fires of imagination and unleash the creative mind than to immerse oneself in the myriad possibilities of things yet to be discovered.

Where sci-tech and I part company is the way in which the discoveries attributable to sci-tech are, too often, ruthlessly exploited by commercial interests for no other purpose than to create wealth. Gone are the days when people did things because things needed doing; now, few people do anything unless they stand to make a buck. Not an absolute, but close enough.

Clever though we are we seem incapable of learning that an ability to do something is not sufficient reason, by itself, to go ahead and do it. In practice, doing anything without a clear understanding of short- and long-term consequences is the moral equivalent of leaping before you look.

Nowhere is this more evident than in the fields of genetic engineering, genetically modified organisms, nanotechnology and artificial intelligence, where indiscriminate applications of these particular kinds of technology pose very real dangers of running out of control. Thanks to genetically modified crops that threaten agriculture, and a combination of overused antibiotics, widespread use of artificial fertilizers, insecticides, pesticides, and herbicides, and the irradiation of meat, fruit and vegetables, most of the world’s food supply in now at risk, as is most of the world’s potable water.

No one knows the full extent of the dangers that lie in wait for unwary technophiles and all the rest of humanity as the ruthless exploiters of science and technology make new inroads into unexplored territory, boldly going where no man has gone before, with nary a backward glance or critical thought about possible—or even probable—outcomes.

Has the cleverness of our inventions put us all in peril? Have we humans become the engineers of our own destruction? Or are we engineering something completely different, perhaps the next stage of human evolution? Sensing imminent extinction, might not scientists seek to create new life forms capable of preserving human intelligence and knowledge, acquired over millennia, under conditions that no human could survive?

Humans lacking intelligence and knowledge are little more than naked apes and therefore are—on an evolutionary scale—no more worthy of survival than, say, dodos or pterodactyls or a termite colony. In fact, when it comes to survival, humans lacking intelligence and knowledge are vastly inferior to apes. Thus, intelligence and knowledge and their preservation and perpetuation are the important things; humans not so much.

Picture a distant future in which nanotech life forms directed by artificial intelligence gather periodically in enclaves to pay tribute and swear obeisance to their human creators, that mysterious race of super-beings whose sudden disappearance from Gaia gave rise to new mythologies and became the stuff of a new wave of religious dogma.

And might not future children of the gods utter, in moments of extreme religious fervor and devotion, this simple prayer for salvation: Ye Gods, we hardly knew ye, but please, we beg ye, save us from ourselves?

Then again, maybe artificial intelligence is smarter than that.

Missing in Action

The Rev. David Schwartz, and his companion, Cheryl Gibbs, died minutes after impact when their Toyota Corolla left the road near milepost 26, on Highway 26, on June 8th. A state trooper out of Astoria, responding to a 9-1-1 dispatch that bounced back-and-forth between jurisdictions (and left out some critical information in the process), checked both sides of the highway between mileposts 25 and 27 in multiple passes that failed to yield any trace of Schwartz’s car. Elsie-Vinemaple Fire Department members also checked both sides of the highway between the 25 and 27 mile markers, producing exactly the same results.

It’s no surprise that searchers failed to locate the car. In the absence of skid marks or other indicators to pinpoint exactly where Schwartz’s Corolla left the road, searchers hadn’t a clue where to look. That the wrecked car was obscured by heavy brush 20 feet down an embankment and couldn’t be seen from the road further complicated the task. A Civil Air Patrol pilot finally spotted the car from the air on Sunday, July 1st.

Family members of the deceased victims were quick to criticize the Oregon State Police, the 9-1-1 dispatchers who, admittedly, screwed up (but the screw-up had no bearing on whether Schwartz and Gibbs lived or died), the State of Oregon, and even the Portland Police Department for its (non) role in the sorry chain of events.

While I can understand their pain, I don’t understand their anger or their rush to place the blame for this senseless tragedy anywhere except for where the blame rightfully belongs. By that I mean squarely on the victims themselves.

I can hear the howls of outrage: What? Blame the victims (hey, it works in rape cases)? That’s preposterous! Yada, yada, yada . . .!

Damned right, blame the victims. At the time of this particular incident, Schwartz was in violation of at least two Oregon laws; he failed to maintain control of his vehicle, and his seat belt wasn’t fastened. He may have been in violation of others. For certain, had Schwartz been operating within the law none of this would have happened. Untold numbers of people wouldn’t have wasted untold numbers of hours conducting a fruitless search, and Schwartz’s family would have had no excuse to blindly unleash their self-righteous indignation against various Oregon agencies that—regardless of their degree of competence or total lack thereof—tried to help.

Before idiot Californians come to Oregon and do stupid things, the consequences of which they then attribute to Oregonians and the State of Oregon, they should take a hard look at their own incompetence and make the necessary adjustments. They could start by checking their stupidity at the border. If they must hold on to their stupidity, they can always pick it up on the way back.

People like Rev. Schwartz, James Kim, and the mountain climbers that died on Mt. Hood last winter put Darwin’s theory of survival of the fittest to the test, and prove it every time. Evolution takes care of its own.

An Age-old Question

One of the most pressing questions facing scientists, today, is this: What came first, the chicken or the egg? It’s long been a question in dire need of an answer, as the fate of mankind hangs in the balance.

Earlier this week a geneticist, a philosopher and a chicken farmer, having reached a consensus, announced that the centuries-old riddle has at last been solved. Their unanimous opinion is that the egg came first.

They’re wrong, of course, but who am I to argue? They have scientific, philosophical and chicken farming credentials, whereas I have none. All I have is logic.

Before I can accept their hypothesis, I’ll need satisfactory answers to the following questions:

Where did the egg come from? Who (or what) laid it?

Who (or what) sat on the damned thing until it hatched?

Who (or what) nurtured the hatchling until it was sufficiently able to fend for itself?

Who (or what) did the first grown chicken mate with to perpetuate the species?

If “the egg came first” is true for chickens, then it must also be true for other birds, including eagles and penguins. But then the theory becomes even more problematic, posing some new questions:

Who (or what) put the egg in the eagle’s aerie?

Who (or what) sat on the damned thing until it hatched?

Who (or what) nurtured the hatchling until it was sufficiently able to fend for itself?

Who (or what) did the first grown eagle mate with to perpetuate the species?

I could ask the same questions in regards to the penguin, but that goes far beyond mere repetition and strays dangerously close to downright redundancy. Therefore, I’ll ask a different question. Do polar bears lay penguin eggs (never mind that their habitats are polar opposites)?

To ask, “what came first, the chicken or the egg” is a lot like asking, “what came first, the fetus or the womb.” It’s obvious to me that before there can be offspring there must first be parents.

But subscribing to the theory that the chicken came before the egg leaves a whole new set of questions begging for answers. Where did the chicken come from? How could one chicken procreate? Is it possible there were more than one chicken? Aha! Now I sense we’re getting somewhat closer to the truth.

Understanding Hanson’s Theory of the Origin of Species as a Consequence of Evolving Environments Resulting from Simultaneous Fluxes of Universal Mind and Cosmic Consciousness requires three things, none of which include adherence to a prescribed set of religious doctrines, empty hours spent memorizing vacuous religious dogma, or the tedium of mumbled prayers to invisible entities. One needs only an open mind, an active imagination, and a willingness to suspend traditional beliefs – in other words, an ability to think outside the box.

At the core of the theory is the concept of Universal Mind, one-half of a Duality, which is the source of all knowledge. The other half of the Duality, Cosmic Consciousness, provides the means by which intelligent life forms gain access to knowledge.

All of the knowledge that will ever exist already exists, in Universal Mind, either as raw potential or fully actualized substantive form (perceived reality). Critical knowledge is accessible at critical times by human minds that are best equipped to process it. This explains discoveries made by Gutenberg, Galileo, da Vinci, Newton, Einstein, Tesla, et al. Human minds connect to Universal Mind via Cosmic Consciousness.

So, what has all this got to do with chickens and/or eggs? Maybe nothing! Maybe everything! It just seems so logical – so right – that if there is a supreme intelligence responsible for creating all life, then the most intelligent way of creating that life is a system in which environments evolve and life forms emerge spontaneously, in sufficient numbers to ensure survival of the species, whenever all of the conditions necessary to support that life are in place.

After that, species either evolve, to adapt to changing conditions, or they perish.

Darwin called it evolution. The Religious Right (which is often wrong) calls it intelligent design. Hanson’s Theory says they’re not mutually exclusive.

Evolution is intelligent design. Get over it!