Paul P. Mealing

Check out my book, ELVENE. Available as e-book and as paperback (print on demand, POD). Also this promotional Q&A on-line.

Saturday, 26 March 2022

Symptoms of living in a post-truth world

 I recently had 2 arguments with different people, who took extreme positions on what we mean by truth. One argued that there is no difference between mathematical truths and truths in fiction – in fact, he described mathematics, that is not being ‘applied’, as ‘mathematical fiction’. The other argued that there is no objective truth and everything we claim to know are only ‘beliefs’, including mathematics. When I told her that I know there will always be mathematics that remain unknown, she responded that I ‘believe I know’. I thought that was an oxymoron, but I let it go. The trivial example, that there are an infinite number of primes or an infinite number of digits in pi, should put that to rest, or so one would think. 

Norman Wildberger, whom I’ve cited before, says that he doesn’t ‘believe’ in Real numbers, and neither does he believe in infinity, and he provides compelling arguments. But I feel that he’s redefining what we mean by mathematics, because his sole criterion is that it can be computed. Meanwhile, we have a theorem by Gregory Chaitin who contends that there are infinitely more incomputable Real numbers than computable Real numbers. People will say that mathematics is an abstract product of the mind, so who cares. But, as Paul Davies says, ‘mathematics works’, and it works so well that we can comprehend the Universe from the cosmic scale to the infinitesimal. 

 

Both of my interlocutors, I should point out, were highly intelligent, well-educated and very articulate, and I believe that they really believed in what they were saying. But, if there is no objective truth, then there are no 'true or false' questions that can be answered. To take the example I’ve already mentioned, it’s either true or false that we can’t know everything in mathematics. And if it’s false, then we must know everything. But my interlocutor would say that I claimed we’d never know and I can’t say I know that for sure. 

 

Well, putting aside the trivial example of infinity, there are proofs based on logic that says it’s true and that’s good enough for me. She claimed that logic can be wrong if the inputs are wrong, which is correct. In mathematics, this is dependent on axioms, and mathematics like all other sciences never stands still, so we keep getting new axioms. But it’s the nature of science that it builds on what went before, and, if it’s all ‘belief’, then it’s a house built on sand. And if it's a house built on sand, then all the electronic gadgets we use and the satellite systems we depend on could all crash without warning, but no one really believes that.

 

So that’s one side of the debate and the other side is that truths in art have the same status as truths in science. There are a couple of arguments one can use to counter this, the most obvious being that a work of art, like Beethoven’s 5th, is unique – no one else created that. But Pythagoras’s theorem could have been discovered by anyone, and in fact, it was discovered by the Chinese some 500 years before Pythagoras. I write fiction, and while I borrow tropes and themes and even plot devices from others, I contend that my stories are unique and so are the characters I create. In fact, my stories are so unique, that they don’t even resemble each other, as at least one reader has told me.

 

But there is another argument and that involves memes, which are cultural ideas, for want of a better definition, that persist and propagate. Now, some argue that virtually everything is a meme, including scientific theories and mathematical theorems. But there is a difference. Cultural memes are successful because they outlive their counterparts, but scientific theories and mathematical theorems outlive their counterparts because they are successful. And that’s a fundamental distinction between truth in mathematics and science, and truth in art.



Addendum: I just came across this video (only posted yesterday) and it’s very apposite to this post. It’s about something called Zero Knowledge Proof, and it effectively proves if someone is lying or not. It’s relevance to my essay is that it applies to true or false questions. You can tell if someone is telling the truth without actually knowing what that truth is. Apparently, it’s used algorithmically as part of blockchain for bitcoin transactions.

 

To give the example that Jade provides in her video, if someone claims that they have a proof of Riemann’s hypothesis, you can tell if they’re lying or not without them having to reveal the actual proof. That’s a very powerful tool, and, as a consequence, it virtually guarantees that a mathematical truth exists for a true or false proposition; in this hypothetical case, Riemann’s hypothesis, because it’s either true or false by definition.






Friday, 18 March 2022

Our eternal fascination with Light and Dark

 Someone on FaceBook posted one of those inane questions: If you could delete one thing in the world what would it be? Obvious answers included war, hate, evil, and the like; so negative emotive states and consequences. My answer was, ‘Be careful what you wish for’.

What I find interesting about this whole issue is the vicarious relationship we have with the ‘dark side’ through the lens of fiction. If one thinks about it, it starts early with fairy tales and Bible stories. Nightmares are common in our childhood where one wakes up and is too scared to go back to sleep. Fear is an emotion we become familiar with early in our lives; I doubt that I was an exception, but it seems to me that everyone tries to keep children innocent these days. I don’t have children, so I might have it wrong.

 

Light and dark exists in the real world, but we try to keep it to the world of fiction – it’s a universal theme found in operas, mythologies and TV serials. I write fiction and I’m no exception. If there was no dark in my stories, they’d have no appeal. You have to have nemeses, figures of various shades of grey to juxtapose the figures of light, even if the light shines through flawed, imperfect glass.

 

In life we are tested, and we judge ourselves accordingly. Sometimes we pass and sometimes we fail. The same thing happens with characters in fiction. When we read a story we become actors, which makes us wonder how we’d behave in the same situation. I contend that the same thing happens in dreams. As an adult, I’ve always seen dreams as what-if scenarios and it’s the same with stories. I’ve long argued that the language of stories is the language of dreams and I think the connection is even stronger than that. I’m not surprised that storytellers will tell you that they dream a lot.

 

In the Judaeo-Christian religion I grew up with, good and evil were stark contrasts, like black and white. You have God, Christ and Satan. When I got older, I thought it a bit perverse that one feared God as much as Satan, which led me to the conclusion that they weren’t really that different. It’s Christ who is the good guy, willing to forgive the people who hate him and want him dead. I’m talking about them as fictional characters, not real people. I’m sure Jesus was a real person but we only have the myth by which to judge him.

 

The only reason I bring all this up, is because they were the template we were given. But fearing someone you are meant to love leads to neurosis, as I learned the hard way. A lot of people of my generation brought up the next generation as atheists, which is not surprising. The idea of a judgemental, schizophrenic father was past its use-by-date.

 

There is currently a conflict in Ukraine, which has grabbed the world’s attention in a way that other wars have not. It’s partly because of our Euro-centric perspective, and the fact that the 2 biggest and world-changing conflicts of the 20th Century both started in Europe. And the second one, in particular, has similarities, given it started with a dictator invading a neighbour, when he thought the world would look the other way.

 

There is a fundamental flaw in the human psyche that we’ve seen repeated throughout history. We have a tendency to follow charismatic narcissistic leaders, when you think we should know better. They create an army (not necessarily military) of supporters, but for whom they have utter contempt. This was true of Hitler, but also true of Trump and Putin.

 

Ukraine’s leader, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, like Trump, became a TV celebrity, but in a different vein. He was a satirical comedian who sent up the country’s leader, who was a Russian stooge, and then ran for office where he won by 70%. I believe this is the real reason that Putin wants to bring him down. If he’d done the same thing in Russia, he would have been assassinated while still a TV personality. It’s well known that Putin has attempted to assassinate him at least twice since the invasion, but assassinating opponents in a foreign country is a Putin specialty.

 

Zelenskyy and Putin represent, in many Western people’s minds, a modern day parable of good and evil. And, to me, the difference is stark. Putin, like all narcissists, only cares about himself, not the generals that have died in his war, not the barely out of school conscripts he’s sent into battle and certainly not the Russian people who will suffer enormous deprivations if this continues for any length of time. On the other hand, Zelenskyy doesn’t care about his self-preservation, because he would rather die for a principle than live the rest of his life in shame for deserting his country when it needed him most. Zelenskyy is like the fictional hero we believe in but know we couldn’t emulate.

 

It's when we read or watch fiction that the difference between right and wrong seems obvious. We often find ourselves telling a character, ‘don’t do that, don’t make that decision’, because we can see the consequences, but, in real life, we often seem to lose that compass.

 

My father was in a war and I know from what he told me that he didn’t lose that particular compass, but I also know that he once threatened to kill someone who was stealing from the wounded he was caring for. And I’ve no doubt he would have acted on it. So his compass got a bit bent, because he’d already seen enough killing to last several lifetimes.

 

I’ve noticed a theme in my own writing, which is subconscious, not intentional, and that is my protagonists invariably have their loyalty tested and it ends up defining them. My villains are mostly self-serving autocrats who have a hierarchical view of humanity where they logically belong at the top.

 

This is a meandering post, with no conclusion. We each of us have ambitions and desires and flaws. Few of us are ever really tested, so we make assumptions based on what we like to believe. I like something that Socrates said, who’d also been in battle.

 

To live with honour in this world, actually be what you try to appear to be.