Saturday, June 3, 2017

Why Do Trump’s Supporters Remain Steadfastly Committed to Him?

Since the beginning of the year I’ve been listening regularly to Sam Harris’ podcast, Waking Up, on which he has engaging and thought-provoking conversations with people from a wide variety of fields. As he summarizes on his site, his intent is to explore ‘important and controversial questions about the human mind, society, and current events.'

In the wake of last fall’s election results, ‘current events’ has, not surprisingly, become a recurring topic of his conversations with the guests he invites onto the podcast, just as it has for so many of us in our discussions with family, friends and colleagues (assuming, of course, that we can even broach the subject at all in the current polarized climate). His guests have included: former world chess champion, and now political activist, Gary Kasparov (The Putin Question); political commentator, and former speech writer for George W. Bush, David Frum (We’re All Cucks Now); journalist and author Anne Applebaum (The Russia Connection); and, in the wake of the most recent revelations of mid-May, Applebaum again, along with journalist and author Juliette Kayyem (The Path to Impeachment).

One question that has surfaced repeatedly in Harris’ conversations and analysis: why do Trump’s core base of supporters consistently dismiss as unimportant Trump’s on-going string of seemingly self-destructive behaviors — actions and statements that for any past politician would have certainly been career ending? Harris, for example, raised that question in his discussion with Applebaum in The Path to Impeachment (~29 minutes in):
So, what do you think it’s going to take, because this is the thing that I find above all so depressing about what his existence is doing to American society. I mean it’s just uncanny to continually hear from Trump’s defenders, who seem completely oblivious to his flaws. No matter how awful you imagine Hillary Clinton to be, and how much you wouldn’t want her to be President, it seems to me that you have to admit that Trump is showing some signs of a dangerous unprofessionalism, at least. And so I mean, what do you make of the fact that there seems to be no path from where we are through the brains of Trump’s defenders to an admission of what should be obvious, that this person is unfit for office. What would he have to do, do you think, to actually turn the tide?

Applebaum’s answer was the verbal equivalent of throwing her hands up in the air, saying that, well, perhaps the tide will finally turn, that enough negative stories will build up to create a tipping point. Her response is not altogether unreasonable given the unceasing stream of shocking moments that Trump has generated. My concern with that line of thinking, however, is that it’s been the working assumption since early in the primaries; there has been a consistent belief after each new negative event by or about Trump would be the one that finally ended his run — and obviously that point has so far not been reached.

I would argue that this line of thinking — believing that the next mistake he makes will be the decisive one — constitutes a kind of failure of imagination on the part of those dismayed by Trump as president — an inability to recognize and acknowledge the deep-seated nature of his base’s commitment to him. Only by understanding the origins and depths of this commitment can we imagine how Trump’s political story might end. To that end, I suggest that Eric Hoffer’s treatise from 1951, The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements, offers a path to just such an understanding; in it, Hoffer demonstrates how all mass movements, whether they result in good ends or bad, "share certain essential characteristics." (xi). (For my full review of the book follow the title link; quotes from the book include page number references.)

To be clear, I would not characterize Trump’s supporters as constituting a mass movement in the traditional sense. His base largely continues to support him, but does not appear to be, at least at this point, a mobilized group ready to be called to action; they voted for Trump, and are now simply waiting for him to fulfill the promises he made during the campaign. Nonetheless, many of Hoffer’s descriptions in his book of the general characteristics of members of mass movements seem to be strongly represented among Trumps hard-core supporters. Thus Hoffer’s analysis can perhaps provide insight into the motivations of these supporters, and why they hold so faithfully and tightly to Trump.

It must be acknowledged that those who voted for Trump certainly had a variety of reasons for doing so, including, for example, a visceral dislike of Hilary Clinton and strong conservative views on particular social policies. But I feel that the most valid analysis of his support has recognized that the core base grew out of a much more fundamental and so much more enduring motivation: people frustrated with the path their lives are taking, who feel little hope for the future, and who are convinced that the political and social elite of the country not only cares nothing for their plight, but actively pursues policies that work against their interests.

I recently heard an interview given by historian Vincent Harding back in 2011 (details here) — long before Trump appeared on the political scene — in which he provides a trenchant analysis of the source of this frustration:
I have a feeling that one of the deeper transformations that’s going on now is that for the white community of America, there is this uncertainty growing about its own role, its own control, its own capacity to name the realities that it has moved into a realm of uncertainty…. Up to now, uncertainty was the experience of the weak, the poor, the people of color.... But now, for all kinds of political, economic reasons, for all kinds of psychological reasons, that uncertainty, and unknowingness, is permeating what was the dominant, so-called, society. That breaking apart is for me more likely the source of the anxiety, the fear, the anger, the unwillingness to give in, the need to have something that they can hold on to and say, this is the way and it's got to be our way or we will all die.

The feelings of “anxiety … fear [and] anger” Harding describes have led to a deep frustration among a significant portion of the American population, and, turning now to The True Believer, we find that the starting point of Hoffer’s analysis is in fact that “the frustrated predominate among the early adherents of all mass movements.” (xii) Hoffer goes on to write that American society can be particularly reactive to the kind of uncertainty that Harding has described:
One of the most potent attractions of a mass movement is its offering of a substitute for individual hope. This attraction is particularly effective in a society imbued with the idea of progress. For in the conception of progress, “tomorrow” looms large, and the frustration resulting from having nothing to look forward to is the more poignant. (15)
 Hoffer adds, in a statement that now, almost seventy years later, feels ripped from the top stories of our day:
The present-day workingman in the Western world feels unemployment as a degradation. He sees himself disinherited and injured by an unjust order of things, and is willing to listen to those who call for a new deal. (27)

As noted above, the central point of Hoffer's thesis is that the frustrated masses that come together to form a political or social movement — whether with positive ends, such as the American Revolution, or negative ends, such as Nazism — share certain common characteristics.  For one, to be moved to action, Hoffer found that they must in part be “intensely discontented yet not destitute … [and] wholly ignorant of the difficulties involved in their vast undertaking.” (11)  It would certainly be hard to dispute that many of Trump’s supporters seem to underestimate the challenges Trump could face in delivering on his promises, whether it is to bring back in significant numbers heavy-industry manufacturing jobs, or to make Mexico pay for the wall, to name but two of the more obvious examples.

Regarding the willingness of Trump’s core base of supporters to discount his seemingly unending string of controversial and often offensive statements and actions, Hoffer’s analysis again resonates. He argues in the book that, by submerging themselves into a unified mass of the disenfranchised, people lose the critical discernment of individuals, and develop such feelings and behaviors as “a facility for make-believe, a proneness to hate, a readiness to imitate, [and a] credulity.” (59)

In particular, he describes a “connection between dissatisfaction with oneself and a proneness to credulity.” (83)   He notes that “the facts on which the true believer bases his conclusions must not be derived from his experience or observation but from holy writ. … To rely on the evidence of the senses and of reason is heresy and treason.” (79) Thus, critically — and dishearteningly for anyone who hopes that sober discourse could turn Trump’s supporters against him — “the fanatic cannot be weaned away from his cause by an appeal to his reason or moral sense.” (85)

This then would appear to be the point we have reached. A group of people so angry, so disenfranchised, so frustrated (to use Hoffer’s term) that they are beyond the reach of reasoned counter-argument. In such an environment it is not so surprising then that for Trump’s base: any facts contradicting what Trump says are defined as fake news; Trump’s inability to make good on his legislative promises despite Republican majorities in the House and Senate is blamed on a lack of support from establishment Republicans and Democrats; calling Trump out for inopportune or inappropriate comments is simply the press or his irrational detractors making a mountain out of a molehill. It would seem that there is quite literally no argument that can be made that would convince a hardcore supporter of Trump to turn their back on him.

Which leaves us where? What is then the path to Trump’s base turning on him? I would argue that path goes through Trump himself. He will have to say or do something that shows him reneging on what he promised his base, something over which he clearly and visibly has control and for which his base cannot rationalize the blame for his failure onto other politicians or the media.

The challenge is that Trump seems to instinctively recognize this, and so continues to push a legislative agenda that fulfills his promises even though it clearly can never pass as proposed; he assumes that his supporters will blame that failure on congress. Meanwhile, on those things that are truly within his control, he does what he promised during the campaign, whether through executive actions, or, for example, in pulling the US out of the Paris Climate Accord. He cannot be reasoned out of doing these things, because he is not doing them for ideological reasons — he does them to survive.

Note, too, that making the argument to Trump that he is now losing some of his support is unlikely to gain traction with him. He was told throughout the primaries that he couldn’t win, that the numbers weren’t there, and yet he became the Republican nominee for president; and this repeated itself again in the general election. Even if some supporters have indeed now begun to drift away, there remains a vocal core that continues to support him. Given all that, why would he suddenly start listening to the polls, and stop believing in his own infallibility? And, ultimately, his self-assuredness only reinforces his supporters’ faith.

Thus, we come to recognize that the answer to the question of why Trump’s base seems so unwavering in its support despite all he has done lies not in over-simplified and disparaging explanations of irrationality or stupidity. Harding’s identification of the social shifts now taking place suggest that a significant portion of the American population has sunk into a deep frustration with their lives; Hoffer’s analysis demonstrates how this frustration can lead people to band together to create a powerful and unyielding group ready to rally behind a populist candidate, and how such a group would become largely immune to arguments against their standard-bearer.

Those with the power in politics and society at large to effect changes that could have acknowledged and attempted to ameliorate the social and economic challenges for a significant portion of their fellow citizens over the past several decades have failed to do so, and have as a consequence allowed the development of a group of people primed for Trump’s arrival on the scene.

At this point, it would seem that we are all consigned to ride this political roller-coaster for the foreseeable future.


As an aside, there is one rather disturbing thought to consider: if Trump does finally fall from power, and Pence becomes president, it’s not clear that Trump’s base would support Pence going forward — in fact, it seems highly unlikely, as Trump’s hard-core base clearly seems to find little to like in either the Republicans or the Democrats. Thus, after coming together to pin their hopes on Trump, they will suddenly find themselves without a standard-bearer in government. Will they quietly become invisible? Or, will they perhaps turn to a new populist leader, one more competent and focused than Donald Trump, who may harness their frustration with even more dangerous effectiveness?



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Hoffer anticipates too the rise in hatred that has been evident since late in the campaign, and has only spread since election night. The use of hatred of the other may seem a commonly accepted means of riling up a crowd, but Hoffer’s analysis provides perhaps a new and deeper insight into how such techniques work. He notes that “even in the case of a just grievance, our hatred comes less from a wrong done to us than from the consciousness of our helplessness, inadequacy and cowardice — in other worlds from self-contempt.” (94) Thus, again, the heart of the matter is to be found in frustration and disenfranchisement. In a statement with strong implications today, seven decades after it was written, Hoffer claims: “Should Americans begin to hate foreigners whole-heartedly, it will be an indication that they have lost confidence in their own way of life.” (96)


My book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Friday, May 26, 2017

Book Review: "The Collapsing Empire" by John Scalzi

The Collapsing Empire (2017)
John Scalzi (1969)


333 pages


In the far future, mankind has discovered a means to travel faster than the speed of light: by accessing a phenomenon referred to as the Flow, spaceships can move between points in space many light-years apart in only a matter of months. Using the Flow, a group of some three dozen systems has been established in the stars.

The catch is that the Flow can only be accessed by so-called shoals — openings created by particular, if poorly understood, physical conditions at specific points in space. Thus, the Flow cannot be used to travel to any arbitrary point in space, only between systems that are near such shoals. And, if a shoal collapses or shifts, a system can find itself suddenly isolated from the rest.

In the story, just such a shift in the Flow had occurred in the distant past, and cut off the rest of the systems from Earth. As most of the far-flung worlds have no habitable worlds, and so consist of either enclosed habitats on desolate planets or satellites in orbit around them, life without access to Earth and its resources became a difficult challenge. To survive, an empire evolved, made up of a complex power structure of gigantic, complementary mercantile guilds, powerful families each with the sole license to produce and market particular goods. The empire became known as the Interdependency; for the centuries since its founding, the Interdependency has been led by the head of the most powerful of the houses, a leader given the title emperox.

As the novel opens, the daughter of the current emperox awaits his death with apprehension. Her brother had been raised to be the next emperox, but his death some time before the novel opens has thrust her unwillingly into the line of succession, and now the moment for her to ascend to power is at hand. In addition to having little appetite for the responsibilities that await her, she also discovers that she faces challenges far greater than she imagined, as instability in the Flow threatens the survival of the widely dispersed and highly specialized systems of the empire.

Though set well into the future, and built around a clear element of science fiction with the capability for faster than light travel, Scalzi’s story otherwise downplays futuristic technology to evolve as a tale of political and corporate intrigue and maneuvering. With the exception of the Flow, and the significant number of women in powerful positions, the story could easily be set in our present, even down to the characters dialogue and personalities which, despite being a millennium or more into the future, would fit comfortably into a modern-day adventure tale.

The focus on action generally trumps character development in the story; with the exception of a few upright citizens, most of the principal characters seem to be largely driven by the principle of 'honor among thieves;' perhaps not surprising in an empire built around highly competitive monopolies. And, who could have imagined that our most famous swear word would remain an integral part of the language so many centuries into the future? That popular profanity is not just used euphemistically, either, as Scalzi sprinkles in a bit of sex along the way, to further spice up the action. Hardly a surprise, I suppose, to learn (on-line) that the TV rights to the story have already been purchased.

But, these are minor quibbles; The Collapsing Empire provides an entertaining romp in an engagingly developed future world. I look forward to the (already announced) sequel, to discover where Scalzi will take his story next.


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Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf


Saturday, May 20, 2017

Book Review: "Reality is Not What it Seems" by Carlo Rovelli

Reality is Not What it Seems: The Journey to Quantum Gravity (2017)
Carlo Rovelli (1956)
Translated from the Italian by Simon Carnell and Erica Segre


280 pages

Theoretical physicist and author Carlo Rovelli warns readers already with the title of his book Reality is Not What it Seems to be prepared to leave our intuitive understanding of the physical world behind as he introduces us to the outlines and implications of current research into quantum gravity.   As Rovelli mentions in the preface, this book is appearing in English after his work Seven Brief Lessons on Physics (my review here), though it had been written and published in Italian a couple of years before.  He indicates that for those who have read Seven Brief Lessons, this new book provides a more in-depth treatment of the topics; as described below, it also goes back to review the historical underpinnings of the millennia long path over which the developments have occurred.

It turns out that our daily interactions with and observations of the world provide little or no basis for understanding what happens at the level of elementary particles of the universe.  In fact, they most likely mislead us, hindering our ability to accept physicists’ current theories and models.

The book’s subtitle, The Journey to Quantum Gravity, hints at Rovelli’s approach to helping readers get past such obstacles of our intuition. Instead of simply diving into the topic of quantum gravity, or perhaps providing a little background by starting with, say, overviews of the theories of general relativity and quantum mechanics, Rovelli opens his story much earlier — very much earlier. He begins with the ancient Greeks, and their first conceptions of the idea of atoms.

By going so far back to begin his story, Rovelli aspires not simply to highlight the scientific roots that have, several millennia later, led to investigations into quantum gravity. He also looks to demonstrate that the larger goals of modern day researchers working on this cutting edge theory (and competing ones) lie within a framework and motivation first established in our distant past: the idea that we must strive to understand the world through observation and reason. Rovelli describes the transition to this early version of the scientific method made by the Greek philosopher Anaximander and those around him in the 5th century BCE, as they strived to move beyond using supernatural stories to explain physical phenomena. These philosophers argued that instead of venerating received ideas and descriptions of the world as unquestionable wisdom, philosophers must focus on using observation to build on and correct earlier ideas. Rovelli states that “from this moment onward, knowledge begins to grow at a vertiginous pace.” (17)

The first critical step occurred in the late 5th century BCE, when the philosopher Democritus and his teacher Leucippus proposed a structure of the world that has — remarkably — served as the basis for the development of our scientific understanding through to this day. The two philosophers formulated the idea that “the entire universe is made up of a boundless space in which innumerable atoms run … [and that] atoms are indivisible … elementary grains of reality, which cannot be further subdivided, and everything is made of them.” (20) In these lines, and a few additional paragraphs, Rovelli summarizes Democritus’ amazing leap forward from the superstitious beliefs of his time to a powerful vision “on which the knowledge of civilization would later be built.” (20)

In a fascinating review of the historical context of these early developments, Rovelli describes the many books Democritus wrote on an astonishing variety of topics, from science to philosophy to history to name but a few; he notes that these works had a dramatic influence on those who followed Democritus. Rovelli notes that for several centuries after Democritus — into the first centuries of the Common Era — philosophers and scientists steadily built upon his ideas. The extent of his impact becomes clear when Rovelli points out the shattering fact that we only know of Democritus’ work through the extensive discussions of it by his contemporaries and those that followed him: all of his works were lost in the vast and savage destruction wrought in the wake of the 4th century CE Roman declaration “that Christianity was to be the only and obligatory religion of the empire” (33). As a result of this heart-breaking loss notes Rovelli, “astronomy did not take any very significant step forward for more than a thousand years,” (45) in a Western world plunged into the darkness of the Middle Ages.

The West eventually rediscovered this Greek scientific heritage, which had been preserved in India and was eventually reintroduced to Europe through Persian and Arab scholars. (The surprising path of this knowledge back into Europe is discussed in works such as Moorish Spain by Richard Fletcher, and Ornament of the World by María Rosa Menocal.)  This recovered knowledge reignited interest in astronomy and more broadly physics, Rovelli notes, influencing scientists such as Copernicus and Galileo. A next critical step, however, was made by Isaac Newton, who not only formalized what Democritus and those who had followed him proposed, but build a mathematical framework for it, describing how the force of gravity influences objects. In a schematic encapsulation that Rovelli then carries forward to explain developments in understanding through to the current research, he describes Newton’s view of the world as being made up of space, time and particles.

Newton himself, according to Rovelli, recognized that while his theories describe many of the phenomena of the natural world, there are forces other than gravity at play; in the 1800’s, Michael Faraday and James Clark Maxell discovered and described mathematically one such force, that of electromagnetism. The critical insight was to “not think of forces acting directly between distant objects, [but rather] think that there exists an entity diffused throughout space that is modified by electric and magnetic bodies and that, in turn, acts upon … the bodies, … what is today called the field.” (55) Thus, while Newton had described the existence of particles, and the concept of a force acting between them, Faraday and Maxwell describe a universe made up of both particles, and fields which exert forces on them.

This description of the physical world as being made up in part of fields began the movement of physics into descriptions of reality beyond our intuitive understanding of the world. Developments in the 20th century would only accelerate this movement, beginning with Albert Einstein’s publishing of his theory of special relativity. Rovelli points out two key features of Einstein’s theory.

One is that it combines space and time — which had been viewed until then as independent concepts — into a single spacetime. Rovelli explains spacetime as implying that it makes no sense to think of “now” in a universal sense; at points away from an individual observer, now, has a duration, which grows ever longer the greater the distance away — what Rovelli calls the “extended present.” He notes, for example, that: “In the Andromeda galaxy, the duration of this extended present is [with respect to an observer on Earth] two million years.” (72) Thus, space and time are tied intimately together.

A second key consequence that Einstein realized, and elaborated in his theory of special relativity was “that energy and mass are two facets of the same entity, just as the electric and magnetic fields are two facets of the same field, and as space and time are two facets of the one thing, spacetime.” (74) Einstein goes on to calculate the relationship between mass and energy, the famous E=mc².

Though the theory of special relativity brought Einstein much renown, he realized according to Rovelli, that his theory “does not square with what was known about gravity” (77); he (and others) worked for years to incorporate gravity into the new models. Einstein comes to realize that the force of gravity exists as “a gravitational field [with descriptive] equations analogous to Maxwell’s” (78) for electricity. This leads Einstein, in his theory of general relativity, to propose just such a field description of gravity. But he then also adds an extraordinary concept: that the gravitation field is not simply present in space, but that it is space itself. From this comes the picture of spacetime curved by a mass, such as the sun, and the Earth then not attracted to the sun by gravity, but rather rolling around the sun as it falls in a funnel-shaped curvature generated in spacetime by the sun.

The other “pillar[] of twentieth-century physics” (109) according to Rovelli, is quantum mechanics, which he describes as having been motivated by the work of Max Planck and Albert Einstein, who first characterized light as made up of packets of energy, called photons. Rovelli notes that the details of the theory were then worked on over decades by a number of physicists; after giving an overview of the stages of development of quantum mechanics, he culminates with a summary of what he feels constitute the theory’s key conclusions. The first echo’s back to Democritus: that there is a fundamental granularity to nature, implying that a finite amount of information can exist in a system, a finite number of states. The second and third results are even more challenging to our deterministic intuition of the world: the future states of a system are indeterminate at the quantum level, meaning they can change randomly, and can only be predicted in a statistical sense, and also that events in a system only exist and occur relative to other events, that is, in the interactions between objects.

Rovelli points out that while quantum theory has been upheld in every experiment so far designed to test its descriptions of nature, “it remains shrouded in obscurity and incomprehensibility.” (109) He concludes his discussion on the theory with a brief description of the difficulties some physicists, including Einstein, have had in accepting its implications. He reminds us that quantum mechanics is a model of the universe, one that so far describes accurately the world as we have been able to test it, but one that, as with any other theory, may eventually be corrected by a different and better understanding of the world.

Having spent the first half of the book presenting an overview of the path physics has taken from its beginnings in ancient Greece to the accepted, modern-day theories, Rovelli pivots to the current, cutting edge in physics research: the work to find an answer to a critical missing piece in the existing theories of General Relativity and Quantum Mechanics that arises from the recognition that: “they cannot both be true, at least not in their present forms, because they appear to contradict each other.” (147)

Rovelli focuses on one proposed theory to address this dilemma, known as loop quantum gravity, an area of study in which he is in fact one of the initial researchers. Over several chapters, he provides an overview of the theory and some of its consequences.

He begins by describing key outcomes in development of the theory. The first result runs counter to our (again deceptive) intuition, in this case our impression of space as an emptiness in which mass exists. Instead, the theory of quantum gravity postulates that “space is created by the interaction of individual quanta of gravity” (174), and so that space is not continuous, but rather made up of extremely — but not infinitely — small quanta. The result builds on a fascinating implication of Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle: “The smaller the region where we try to locate a particle, the greater the velocity at which it escapes … [and so that particle] has a great deal of energy … [which] results in curving space so much that it collapses into a black hole. … [thus] quantum mechanics and general relativity, taken together, imply that there is a limit to the divisibility of space.” (152)

A second implication that has arisen out of the research on quantum gravity upends our understanding of time, and in particular the idea that there is an absolute passage of time for the universe. He points out that Einstein’s theories already abstracted time, by recognizing that it passes differently for observers at different locations, due to the relative locations or movements of observers. According to Rovelli, quantum gravity implies that at the quantum level time does not exist as an independent variable at all; thus events occur due to the interactions of fields, and are not aligned to an overarching guide of time.

Rovelli provides a way of thinking about this at our macro level view of the world. He describes a clock as a mechanism that counts up events (for example, the swings of a pendulum), and when we use such a clock to measure the time over which some process takes place (say the movement of an object), though we may represent the object’s movement as a function of time, in reality what we know is the distance the object moves as a function of the number of swings of the pendulum; that is, one series of events relative to another series of events. Time is simply a construct that can be useful for our purposes at a macro scale of the universe, but it does not constitute an absolute and fundamental property of the universe.

Thus, Rovelli summarizes the theoretical direction of quantum gravity as forcing us to realize that “The space and time that we perceive in large scale are blurred and approximate images of one of these quantum fields: the gravitational field.” (193)

In order to summarize the long road physics has taken from Newton’s formalization of the world understood already by the Greeks, through to the modern theory of quantum gravity, Rovelli includes a wonderfully concise diagram that he evolves over the course of the book into the final form shown below (193).

This schematic also reinforces the transformation from a view of the universe that aligns with our daily observation and experience, to an increasingly abstract and unintuitive understanding of the true nature of the cosmos.

In the final part of the book, Rovelli discusses several fascinating implications of the theory of quantum gravity, if it proves to be an accurate model of the universe.

Once such consequence alters the concept of the Big Bang — the idea that the universe began from a single point that exploded outwards — to what Rovelli refers to as the Big Bounce. The Big Bounce is based on ideas from quantum gravity that indicate that “the universe cannot be indefinitely squashed [as is] predicted by Einstein’s equations if we ignore quantum theory.” (207)  Instead, according to quantum mechanics incorporating quantum gravity, as the volume into which the universe compresses grows ever smaller, the repulsion eventually grows large enough that a renewed explosive expansion would begin.

After a chapter on some of the empirical investigations being done to test the ideas of quantum gravity, Rovelli discusses the implications of the theory for our understanding of black holes. The key point again is that at extremely small volumes of space, quantum mechanics together with quantum gravity predict a different behavior than the theory of general relativity. One result is that black holes are not stable objects, but rather — similar to the universe as a whole — eventually constrict to a size at which the repulsion forces cause them to explode.

Rovelli then goes on to look at some of the broader implications of the fundamental quantization of space. One of these is the nonexistence of infinity, in many senses. Since the universe is no longer infinitely divisible, there is no such thing as an unaccountably infinite number of anything. We live, he writes, in “a vast cosmos, but a finite one.” (237) Even with his clear and lucid presentation, and accepting the idea that in the smallest sense there is quantization, and so finiteness, it can be a struggle to transform that understanding to the large scale of the universe, and wonder what lies beyond that finite extent. Again, I suppose, the failure of intuition to allow grasp new models of reality...

Rovelli follows with, in the second to last chapter, a discussion on the idea of information and how physicists are thinking about the concept of information of a system given the theory of quantum gravity. Again the fundamental idea of quantization plays a critical role: “quantum mechanics can be understood as the discovery that information in nature is always finite.” (245)

In the concluding chapter of this fascinating and thought-provoking work, Rovelli gives a clarion call to readers, one that serves both to acknowledge the challenge that modern physics presents to our intuitive views of the universe, as well as to encourage us to continue striving to broaden our understanding. He asks that we accept our own ignorance of the world, and rather than allow the frightening uncertainty of our ignorance to drive us into the arms of any person or group claiming to have all the answers, that we instead exalt in that ignorance and use it as motivation to continue pushing our knowledge forward: “To seek to look further, to go further, seems to me to be one of the splendid things that give sense to life.” (263)


Other reviews / information:
http://tertulia-moderna.blogspot.com/2018/04/book-review-stardust-by-john-gribbin.html
Democritus, who features so prominently in <u>Reality is Not What it Seems</u>, also appears early in astrophysicist John Gribbin's work <u>Stardust</u> (link to my review at right), on the long evolution in the understanding of the role that the remains of stars have played, and continue to play, in seeding the formation of the subsequent generations of solar systems with the heavier elements necessary for the development of life.



http://tertulia-moderna.blogspot.com/2018/06/our-mathematical-universe-my-quest-for.htmlIn a coincidence that seems to highlight a focus of many physicists working today, the title of Rovelli's book has strong parallels to the title of the opening chapter of Max Tegmark's <u>Our Mathematical Universe</u>.  (Rovelli’s book was published the same year as Tegmark's, though originally in Italian, and didn’t appear in English until several years later.)   Tegmark’s first chapter is titled, What is Reality, and opens with the section heading Not What It Seems, closely matching Rovelli’s title Reality is Not What it Seems; both physicists make clear reference to the breakdown in our intuition as we attempt to grasp the complexity of our physical world. (My review of Tegmark’s book is linked to at right.)



Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Sunday, May 7, 2017

Book Review: "All the Light We Cannot See" by Anthony Doerr

All the Light We Cannot See (2014)
Anthony Doerr (1973)


531 pages

Anthony Doerr’s wonderful novel All the Light We Cannot See fires a readers imagination from the opening scenes, and maintains its magical grip straight through to the final lines. At its heart a story of the fate of a jewel with a diabolical curse, Doerr transforms this simple mystery into a deeply engaging exploration of human dreams and desires in the face of a world seemingly bent on repressing them.

In the late summer of 1944 the German army — though in full retreat — desperately holds an isolated outpost along the Brittany coast of France: the walled, port city of St. Malo. As allied planes approach the city to fire bomb it into submission, a pair of adolescents who have already experienced far too much horror in their young lives find themselves caught up in the imminent attack: sixteen year-old French girl, Marie-Laure, and eighteen year-old German private, Walter Pfennig. As the bombs begin landing on the city, Doerr jumps back ten years, to introduce and begin the winding paths that eventually bring these two teenagers to that fateful day in St. Malo.

Though growing up just a few hundred miles apart, the two come of age on opposite sides of the calamitous decade that followed Hitler’s final assumption of power in 1934. Marie-Laure grows up in Paris in the years before the war, living with her father who works as a locksmith for the National Museum of Natural History. At the age of six she goes blind, and to encourage her to develop some level of independence, her father builds a miniature model of their neighborhood for her to study. Through his gentle but insistent encouragement she eventually becomes able to walk the streets on her own, and her self-confidence grows. At the same time she develops a deep and abiding fascination for the natural world as she spends time wandering her father’s workplace and untiringly posing questions to the scientists working there.

Across the border, in the Ruhr Valley coal mining region of west-central Germany, Werner lives with his sister in an orphanage. Already as a young child he exhibits a remarkable curiosity about the world, as well as an uncanny ability to build and fix things — most particularly radios, which gradually brings him to the attention of neighbors, who regularly arrive at the orphanage door to have their sets fixed. As an orphan, he has little hope for the future, expected to eventually work in the nearby coalmines, the same mines in which his father died.

But then Germany’s rise out of economic collapse and transformation into a nation gearing up for war offers Werner an opportunity to escape his dismal destiny, when his technical gifts lead to an offer to study at a military school of the regime, known as a National Political Institute of Education.  Desperate for something better, he ignores his sister’s prescient warnings about the terrible consequences of the bargain he is making, and enters into the repressive web of the new regime.

When war finally breaks out, Marie-Laure and her father escape Paris just ahead of the invading German army, ending up at the home of her great-uncle, in St. Malo. Her father carries with him a beautiful diamond from the museum, with orders to hide it from the Germans. Only the size of a small egg, the piece comes freighted with an ancient and terrible curse, one that, however much rational thinking might desperately try to dismiss it, events seem repeatedly to reinforce.

Werner takes a more circuitous route to St. Malo, as the war first leads him far to the east, his expertise with radios in heavy demand on the Russian front. There the technical skills and work that he had found so thrilling and engaging while at school reveal a darker side that comes to weigh heavily on him. Eventually these same skills pull him to the coast of Brittany, to a hotel in St. Malo just blocks away from Marie-Laure. As the town awaits and then experiences the ineluctable allied assault, Werner is offered a chance for redemption, as he discovers his fate to be bound up tightly with a young girl he’s never met.

A recurring theme in the story centers on puzzle boxes that Marie-Laure’s father makes for her as gifts — intricate little wooden devices that she must learn the secret to opening in order to discover the prize contained within. For Marie-Laure the joy lies in discovering the secret; the prize inside is secondary. Doerr’s story presents readers with the intricate detail of such a puzzle box. The mystery lies not so much in the main plot line, for we know from early on roughly how things will develop; it lies instead in the paths taken by the characters, and what they experience on the way to their intersecting destiny in St. Malo.

Doerr builds the novel as a series of short chapters, each from a page to at most four or five long, and each told from the viewpoint of a different character. The chapters are grouped into sections that jump forward and backward in time, from the nominal present of the Germans losing their grip on St. Malo, to events during the decade leading up to that moment. From chapter to chapter, Doerr develops scenes slowly, a short, thrilling piece at a time, progress sometimes delayed by sections that jump to entirely different characters and points in time.

By never following a story-line for but a few pages at a time, the threads that bind the characters together — though invisible to them — become poignant realities to the reader. The tightly woven and intricately detailed structure helps make manifest the interconnected paths characters take as they follow their unknowable destiny to arrive together in St. Malo in the catastrophic final days of the war.

Constructing the story in this way also has the effect for the reader of becoming a kind of wild ride into a whirlpool — inexorably pulling us inward toward the dramatic climax. The result is a powerful urge to read faster and faster to discover what happens next. Resisting that temptation gives the benefit of not missing out on the joy of Doerr’s beautiful writing, his sensitive descriptions of both the physical world and the inner complexities and confusions of his characters.

A mystery lies at the heart of All the Light We Cannot See, though not so much about what will happen in the end, as in how the characters will confront the relentless demands of the world around them, as they seek to realize their hopes and dreams. Doerr reminds us that even in the darkest depths of war and destruction, opportunities for wonder and beauty — and hope for the future — can blossom.


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The destiny that draws Marie-Laure and Werner together evokes a bit the idea of the Chinese belief in a deity, the ‘Old Man of the Moon’, as for example recalled in (to admittedly completely different effect) David Rabe’s story, Girl by the Road at Night (my review here):
... the legendary Old Man of the Moon who sits in the moonlight reading his book in which are recorded the connections that will come between people in the world. Quick and silent as a spider, he puts a web of invisible, rosy threads throughout the world until all people everywhere who are destined to be pairs are linked in a secret, lovely manner. Down through their lives the threads draw the lovers, down the trails and rivers, from city to forest, until they finally meet…


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Book Review: "The True Believer" by Eric Hoffer

The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements (1951)
Eric Hoffer (1902-1983)

177 pages


When considering the histories of mass movements such as the spread of Christianity, the French Revolution or the rise of Nazism, the proximate causes for these events can seem quite distinct. What commonality, after all, between conditions in the ancient Roman Empire, 18th century France and post-WWI Germany?

Quite a bit, argues Eric Hoffer in his engaging treatise The True Believer — among the three mass movements mentioned above as well as many others. In the opening lines of his Preface, Hoffer lays out his thesis:
This book deals with some peculiarities common to all mass movements, be they religious movements, social revolutions or nationalist movements. It does not maintain that all movements are identical, but that they share certain essential characteristics which give them a family likeness. (xi)

As the subtitle makes clear, in this slim but cogent work Hoffer provides his, “Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements.” Constructed as a series of brief essays — some just a sentence long, others a few paragraphs — the book examines the “essential characteristics” of all mass movements, from the social conditions that set them in motion, to the personality types that swell their ranks and the overall arc of their development. Along the way, he makes clear that though there can be “Good and Bad Mass Movements,” to quote the title of one section, all share common traits, and succeed or fail for the same principal reasons.

The essays are grouped together into a handful of chapters, each covering a different aspect of the mass movement phenomenon. The first half or so of the book is perhaps the most compelling, particularly for today’s readers, given the rise over the past decade or so of nationalist, populist movements in so many Western countries.

Hoffer opens with an extended description of the fundamental characteristics of those who form the masses of such movements, already in the Preface laying out his fundamental truth: “the frustrated predominate among the early adherents of all mass movements.” (xii) To be moved to action, these frustrated must in part be, Hoffer notes, “intensely discontented yet not destitute … [and] wholly ignorant of the difficulties involved in their vast undertaking.” (11) Thus, not unexpectedly, the upper classes of society show little interest in mass movements because their success gives them a strong vested interest in the status quo. Perhaps more surprisingly Hoffer notes that, at the other end of the spectrum, the abject poor have no energy to spare for such activities; their days occupied with the struggle just to stay alive, they have no hopes and dreams, no time to feel unfulfilled.

The broad middle, on the other hand, offer a rich ground for converts to a mass movement, argues Hoffer, if their frustration with their lives leaves them without hope:
One of the most potent attractions of a mass movement is its offering of a substitute for individual hope. This attraction is particularly effective in a society imbued with the idea of progress. For in the conception of progress, “tomorrow” looms large, and the frustration resulting from having nothing to look forward to is the more poignant. (15) 
In a statement that now, almost seventy years later, feels ripped from the top stories of our day, Hoffer notes:
The present-day workingman in the Western world feels unemployment as a degradation. He sees himself disinherited and injured by an unjust order of things, and is willing to listen to those who call for a new deal. (27) 
(It’s easy to imagine that Bruce Springsteen and his producer Jon Landau could have read The True Believer on their way to writing songs such as Johnny 99, Born in the USA, The Ghost of Tom Joad, Youngstown and so many others with lyrics that capture the hopelessness of workers seeing their jobs and lifestyles disappear.)

Such feelings of frustration and failure produce, according to Hoffer, a powerful desire to subsume “the anxieties, barrenness and meaninglessness of an individual existence” (41) into a mass movement. This leads to two critical phenomena among the disaffected, “the desire for unity [with a larger cause] and readiness for self-sacrifice.” (59) Perhaps even more alarming, by submerging themselves into a unified mass of disenfranchised ready and willing to sacrifice their seemingly hopeless lives, people lose the critical discernment of individuals and develop such feelings and behaviors as “a deprecation of the present, a facility for make-believe, a proneness to hate, a readiness to imitate, credulity, [and] a readiness to attempt the impossible.” (59)

Hoffer finds, in particular, a “connection between dissatisfaction with oneself and a proneness to credulity.” (83) He argues that “the facts on which the true believer bases his conclusions must not be derived from his experience or observation but from holy writ. … To rely on the evidence of the senses and of reason is heresy and treason.” (79) Thus, critically — and dishearteningly for anyone who looks to sober discourse to counteract a slide into radical or revolutionary change — “the fanatic cannot be weaned away from his cause by an appeal to his reason or moral sense.” (85)

Hatred too plays a fundamental role in the realization of a mass movement. The use of hatred of the other may seem a commonly accepted means of riling up a crowd, but Hoffer’s analysis provides perhaps a new and deeper insight into how such techniques work. He notes that “even in the case of a just grievance, our hatred comes less from a wrong done to us than from the consciousness of our helplessness, inadequacy and cowardice — in other worlds from self-contempt.” (94) Thus, again, the heart of the matter is to be found in frustration and disenfranchisement. In a statement with strong implications today, seven decades after it was written, Hoffer claims: “Should Americans begin to hate foreigners whole-heartedly, it will be an indication that they have lost confidence in their own way of life.” (96)

A particularly fascinating portion of Hoffer’s analysis relates to the importance of the breakdown in compact and cohesive social structures in creating a fertile environment for the rise of a mass movement. He argues that, as a result, “the cause of revolution in a totalitarian society is usually a weakening of the totalitarian framework rather than resentment against oppression and distress.” (35)

The primacy of such general cultural disruption relative to the more apparent misery of daily life has implications in other situations as well, Hoffer points out:
The policy of an exploiting colonial power should be to encourage communal cohesion among the natives. It should foster equality and a feeling of brotherhood among them. For by how much the ruled blend and lose themselves into a compact whole, by so much is softened the poignancy of their individual futility; and the process which transmutes misery into frustration and revolt is checked at the source. The device of “divide and rule” is ineffective when it aims at a weakening of all forms of cohesion among the ruled. (39)

Of course, the difficulty of pursuing such a policy in a colony could be related to the inability to switch from using the generally successful military tactic of divide and conquer when conquering a country, to implementing a more unifying behavior when attempting to hold onto the colony.

The latter part of the book focuses more on the structural dynamics of mass movements, describing why some succeed and others fail, and how those that do succeed evolve out of the active mass movement phase. Hoffer describes how leaders in successful mass movements attempt to consolidate their gains and so create a new status quo, with goals that no longer include trying to engage the disenfranchised, who may now threaten those newly in power.

Though Hoffer doesn’t offer a specific prescription for stopping or avoiding the rise of a mass movement, his arguments make clear that the important period is before such a movement begins building. Though perhaps not always possible, the strategy would seem to be to avoid the creation of masses of hopeless and disenfranchised, and to put in place policies that slow or eliminate the dissolution of family and social structures. Of course, this is all easier said than done, and crucial recognition of the development of such destabilizing conditions can often come too late. In the context of Hoffer’s thesis, comments from historian Vincent Harding in 2011 become even more sobering (details here):
I have a feeling that one of the deeper transformations that’s going on now is that for the white community of America, there is this uncertainty growing about its own role, its own control, its own capacity to name the realities that it has moved into a realm of uncertainty…. Up to now, uncertainty was the experience of the weak, the poor, the people of color.... But now, for all kinds of political, economic reasons, for all kinds of psychological reasons, that uncertainty, and unknowingness, is permeating what was the dominant, so-called, society. That breaking apart is for me more likely the source of the anxiety, the fear, the anger, the unwillingness to give in, the need to have something that they can hold on to and say, this is the way and it's got to be our way or we will all die.

Toward the end of this remarkable work, Hoffer turns his thoughts to western democracies, noting that a painful period of chaotic change may not be avoidable once the proper conditions for the development of a mass movement present themselves. He does, however, offer a somewhat hopeful long-term view for free societies:
One cannot maintain with certitude that it would be impossible for a Hitler or a Stalin to rise in a country with an established tradition of freedom. What can be asserted with some plausibility is that in a traditionally free country a Hitler or a Stalin might not find it too difficult to gain power but extremely hard to maintain himself indefinitely. Any marked improvement in economic conditions would almost certainly activate the tradition of freedom which is a tradition of revolt. … in a traditionally free country the individual who pits himself against coercion does not feel an isolated human atom but one of a mighty race — his rebellious ancestors. (160)


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Read quotes from this book here.

Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset, in his 1930 essay The Revolt of the Masses (my review here), describes a revolt that has many of the characteristics of the characteristics that Hoffer describes in this essay, but that has led to more than a simple movement, instead causing a civilization-endangering shift into decline.


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Book Review: "Heat, and other stories" by Joyce Carol Oates

Heat, and other stories (1991)
Joyce Carol Oates (1938)


397 pages

Joyce Carol Oates leads her characters — and readers — onto dangerous and uncertain ground in her unsettling collection Heat, and other stories. The perilous situations into which she places her characters bring to the surface their deepest, most hidden insecurities and fears. As readers we squirm uncomfortably, wondering whether our own carefully suppressed idiosyncrasies could suddenly be exposed by similar cruel and unexpected twists of fate.

The twenty-five stories included in the book have been divided into three groups, labeled simply I, II and III. Though the stories share similar structures and themes, distinctions between the three sections do become apparent.

The first group of eight tend to center on individuals who stumble into situations — from deeply unsettling to physically dangerous — that reveal a tenuous grip on their lives, emotionally and psychologically. In the face of unexpected events, the appearance of strength and control they normally maintain for the world dissolves, and despite often having some inkling of what they could or should do, in the moment they find themselves unable to muster the will to avoid falling into destructive behaviors.

In The Boyfriend, a woman out to the bar with friends is approached by a man with a connection to her ex-boyfriend that she can’t quite recall; without much thought, she leaves the bar with him for drinks and dinner, and eventually ends up with him back her place, where she suddenly realizes she’s in over her head. Naked opens as a pack of children set upon a woman hiking alone in a suburban wildlife preserve, beating her and stripping her naked before disappearing as suddenly as they had appeared; concerned initially only with survival, as she struggles to reach safety thoughts about how being found naked could have implications to her reputation and place in her community begin to weigh ever more heavily on her.

The second group of twelve stories are not that dissimilar in theme from the first, but develop instead around two or three characters who come together in a morass of misunderstanding so fundamental that a complete and utter breakdown lies inevitably, if somehow completely unrecognized, before them.

The title story, Heat, opens this section, and provides a consummate example of Oates’ style in all the stories of this collection. In it we learn already in the opening few paragraphs that eleven year old twin sisters will be abused and die at the hands of a nineteen year old boy with the cognitive level of a six year old. The art of the story lies not in building the action to a climax, but rather in Oates’ ominous, and oppressively gradual release of details, physical and psychological. In Leila Lee, a young woman realizes already in the opening lines that she has married badly; as her attempts to build a connection to her husband’s diffident teenage son only serve to highlight her own desperate situation in the marriage.

The final set of five stories have a supernatural bent: ghost stories of a kind, or dystopian, nightmarish situations. A future fraught with economic and environmental collapse leads to a radical re-definition of familial relationships and dynamics in Family. In Ladies and Gentlemen:, a group of retires on a cruise ship in the South Pacific discover the horrifying truth behind their children having gifted them the trip.

In many of the stories the characters struggle through their lives with a deep unease they can’t — or don’t want to — confront or identify; it flits just outside their consciousness. The hopes and dreams of their youth have given way to the discovery that they have made compromises and mistakes, and in the process have constructed lives fraught with psychological trip wires, leaving them ever on the verge of careening out of control. Ultimately the result is a rashness of behavior that compromises their ability to react thoughtfully at critical moments.

In these stories Oates provides no tidy solutions. She generally reveals already at the beginning how a particular story will proceed, if not end, and wraps them up just as the climax in the action has occurred. Thus, many of the stories open with a quick descent into crisis, but then end without a full resolution; not unlike real life, the ultimate outcome remains uncertain, with the characters themselves having little idea what the future might hold. As her characters get caught up in events that shatter their carefully constructed worlds: what point, Oates seems to imply, in imagining how they might eventually pick up the pieces?


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Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Saturday, March 25, 2017

Book Review: "The Phenomenon of Man" by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

The Phenomenon of Man (1955)
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955)


320 pages

Orthogenesis: variation of organisms in successive generations that in some especially former evolutionary theories takes place in some predestined direction resulting in progressive evolutionary trends independent of external factors.
                                                                                             Merriam-Webster Dictionary
The concept of orthogenesis was apparently first defined by the zoologist Theodor Eimer in the late 1800's, as "the general law according to which evolutionary development takes place in a noticeable direction, above all in specialized groups."  Though largely discredited today as a hypothesis, it has historically found backing from scientists and philosophers with humanist or religious backgrounds, and thus has not been tied necessarily to a spiritual force.

A particular version of the orthogenetic hypothesis is the idea that evolution not only generates ever more advanced forms of life, but that it in fact moves toward a particular goal, a principle referred to as teleology.  Precisely this belief lies at the heart of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin’s treatise The Phenomenon of Man.

A Jesuit priest who trained as a paleontologist, Teilhard makes the case that the remarkable ability of human beings to reflect on our lives represents not a fortuitous outcome of random evolutionary processes, but rather an inevitable one. He goes on to argue that, at some future point, those same evolutionary processes must needs result in mankind achieving an ultimate stage of universal consciousness.

The Phenomenon of Man consists of four sections, referred to as books, contained in a single volume over which Teilhard builds his case. He opens in Book One: Before Life Came by laying out a systematic structure of the physical world, what he refers to as the stuff of the universe. (In the following, terms in italics indicate Teilhard’s terms and phrases, often specifically defined or invented by him.)

Taking an expansive view of the scope of evolution, Teilhard considers it to include even inorganic matter, and as having begun with the smallest, most elementary, physical particles of the early universe. In a theme that will appear throughout the book, he emphasizes the importance of viewing matter not in terms of its seemingly fixed appearance at any one moment in time, but rather as part of a comprehensive and dynamic system, with duration in terms of both space and time, a “perspective [in which] the world appears like a mass in process of transformation.” (47)

Teilhard argues that, under the slow but unrelenting forward pressure of orthogenesis these particles eventually formed larger bits of matter, which in turn continued to accumulate until, in our region of space, the Solar System formed, and with it Earth. On Earth, evolution gropingly , to use Teilhard's term — but always with a purpose — pursued different paths until, at some still mysterious moment, inorganic matter formed what would become the building blocks of life; thereafter followed the evolutionary process as it’s more commonly understood, culminating finally in mammals, and mankind.

Teilhard claims, however, that the long chain of changes in visible, physical attributes represent only a part of the story of evolution. In a dramatic parallel to physical evolution, he makes the case for the presence of a within of things — of consciousness in even inorganic matter. Arguing that “the apparent restriction of the phenomenon of consciousness to the higher forms of life has long served science as an excuse for eliminating it from its models of the universe,” (55) he notes that this view of consciousness suddenly appearing at some arbitrary point on the path from inorganic matter to higher life forms makes no sense. Instead, he makes the case that a kind of consciousness — rudimentary though it may be — exists for even the smallest bits of matter, and has served as the basis through which evolution worked to eventually provide mankind with the ability for thought and reflection.

He acknowledges that, just as science remains challenged to discern how the transition from inorganic matter to life occurred, it could be that it will be impossible to discover the ur-consciousness of physical matter. Nonetheless, the existence of this within of things, and Teilhard’s view that it has and will continue to develop through the processes of evolution, form a central part of his larger thesis. Throughout the book he draws on the existing scientific understanding of the evolution of physical characteristics to buttress his arguments for a similar evolutionary development of consciousness and thought.

In Book Two: Life, Teilhard describes the advent and expansion of life on Earth, addressing both the cryptic moment of transformation from inorganic to organic matter, as well as the process evolution took in spreading life across the Earth, and so building up the biosphere. He provides his view of the The Tree of Life, tracing the development over hundreds of millions of years of what he refers to as layers of evolution, broad stages of development out of each of which came one branch that represented a step closer to mammals and ultimately mankind. He uses this structure to reinforce the importance of the long duration of evolution, and to note the many branches that have represented dead ends, failures in evolution’s groping to achieve what he considers its pre-destined path: mankind.
 
Teilhard elaborates on his orthogenetic view in this second book, declaring
Science in its development — and even, as I shall show, mankind in its march — is marking time at this moment, because men’s minds are reluctant to recognize that evolution has a precise orientation and privileged axis. … I believe I can see a direction and a line of progress for life, a line and a direction which are in fact so well marked that I am convinced their reality will be universally admitted by the science of tomorrow. (142) 
He argues that biologists have been mistaken to focus on differentiating and categorizing life based simply on physical appearance, particularly in relation to mankind. For him, the key differentiator on the path leading to man — and so the principal destiny of evolution — has been the development of consciousness, and eventually thought.

He makes the case for how the evolutionary march towards thought occurred, arguing that as the physical attributes of animals have changed through evolution, these same changes have also impacted the development of their ability for thought. He uses primates as an example, arguing that — not being particularly specialized physically as say a lion is for hunting or an herbivore for avoiding predators — primates had to rely on their cognitive abilities. Through these processes, over millennia, evolution brought life ever closer to the brink of thought, the brain becoming the principle avenue for the evolutionary process to pursue its path forward.

Having described the appearance and spread of early life on Earth, Teilhard focuses in book three more specifically on the development of thought, and what he considers mankind’s “central phenomenon, reflection." (165)

He argues that in focusing on mankind’s anatomical similarity to primates, scientists can easily lose sight of the leap forward mankind took in gaining the ability to reflect: “no longer merely to know, but to know oneself; no longer merely to know, but to know that one knows.” (165) He describes this transformation as having represented a change of state, noting that there would have been no half-way point: one individual gained this ability to reflect where its forefathers could not, even if that initial, primitive ability was “little visible externally at its … origin.” (171) For Teilhard this event, this change of state, made mankind superior over the many animals and organisms that came before it on the tree of life, and represented an ability that arose out of the inherent direction or axis of evolution toward ever more superior states of being.

Having acknowledged that one must accept the transition to thought — to reflection — as lying shrouded in the ancient origins of mankind, Teilhard notes that the natural advantage this ability provided enabled it to spread throughout the world, creating what he refers to as the nooshpere, a “thinking layer” which spanned the earth. He creates this term as a compliment to the existing set of -spheres in the scientific lexicon:
[the] barysphere, central and metallic, surrounded by the rocky lithosphere that in turn is surrounded by the fluid layers of the hydrosphere and the atmosphere … [and] the living membrane composed of the fauna and flora of the globe, the biosphere. (182)

He sketches an outline of the branches of pre-hominids involved in the creation of the nooshpere. While most of these became dead ends on the orthogenetic pursuit of progressively more advanced life forms, one led eventually to Homo Sapiens, which itself branched out into a variety of groups worldwide. These initially independent groups of Homo Sapiens took the next step in the evolution of the nooshpere according to Teilhard, that of organizing into increasingly complex social groups, and eventually political and cultural societies. He conceives this development as having been as much driven by evolutionary processes as physical changes that occur — another step forward in the biological advancement of mankind. Foreordained by orthogenesis, it in fact became the next natural step in mankind’s upward development toward a higher level of consciousness.

Teilhard points out five particular “foci of [social] attraction and organization, [that served as the] prelude and presage of some new and superior state for the noosphere”: the Mayan, Polynesian, Chinese, Indian and Egyptian-Sumerian civilizations. (209) Of these, he argues, it was the Egyptian and Sumerian that eventually coalesced into Western Civilization, “to produce that happy blend, thanks to which reason could be harnessed to facts and religion to action … [with] the mysterious Judaeo-Christian ferment which gave Europe its spiritual form.” (211) For Teilhard, social societies were the next stage in mankind’s biological progress up the Tree of Life, and Western civilization has represented the flowering of that socialization:
The proof of this lies in the fact that from one end of the world to the other, all the peoples, to remain human or to become more so, are inexorably led to formulate the hopes and problems of the modern earth in the very same terms in which the West has formulated them. (212)
One can wonder if eastern cultures would accept uncritically such a definitive statement.

Teilhard concludes the section on the birth and spread of thought — that is, the creation of the noosphere — by describing a key transformation in that development, which began just two or three centuries ago: mankind’s comprehension of the depths of time out of which we have developed, as well as of the dynamic nature of the physical world. Building on his arguments in the earlier chapters of the book, he defines evolution as comprising not just the physical evolution of organic beings, but also the complete physical evolution of the universe, as well as the mental evolution of man, exemplified most recently, in a historic sense, by the development of societies.
What makes and classifies a ‘modern’ man (and a whole host of our contemporaries is not yet ‘modern’ in this sense) is having become capable of seeing in terms not of space and time alone, but also of duration, or — it comes to the same thing — of biological space-time; and above all having become incapable of seeing anything otherwise — anything — not even himself. (219) 
Several pages later he notes that: “Man discovers that he is nothing else than evolution become conscious of itself, to borrow Julian Huxley’s striking expression." (221)

Teilhard argues that mankind’s comprehension of evolution has led to a “modern disquiet,” a potentially debilitating mental paralysis brought on by the realization of the immense magnitude of space-time, in terms of both the past, as well as the weight of how we pursue a coherent future world. Teilhard, for his part, does not succumb to this disquiet, instead seeing the current moment as simply an intermediate point on the path to mankind reaching a pre-destined, ultimate stage of evolution, what he refers to as the Omega point. Building off the carefully constructed arguments developed over the first three books of his work, he describes his vision of this future in Book Four: Survival.

Teilhard notes that, even as humans have spread out over the earth to form the noosphere, the inherent constraint of living on a sphere has forced ever closer contact between branches of humanity that had initially existed separately. Thus, after having early on developed largely in isolation, the societies formed by these various branches inevitably came into contact and intermingled as they grew in size. In his view, these interactions will — must — eventually lead to mankind achieving a further step in evolution, with an ultimate consequence of arriving at an end point at which all consciousness converges into a point of <i>hyper-personalization</i>, with “each particular consciousness remaining conscious of itself [while] becoming still more itself and thus more clearly distinct from the others the closer it gets to them in Omega.” (262)

Teilhard goes on to outline his view of the attributes of this pinnacle of evolution. In particular, he describes it as a point at which mankind “escapes from entropy,” since “if by its very nature [consciousness at the Omega Point] did not escape from the time and space which it gathers together, it would not be Omega.” (271)

As he focuses more specifically on this Omega point, the breadth and depth of Teilhard’s belief in orthogenesis becomes apparent. He ascribes a powerful intent on the part of the universe to achieve a foreseen end point through the evolutionary process, a purposefulness so strong that he argues one can dismiss even the possibility of a global catastrophe that could kill off mankind:
… since the birth of thought man has been the leading shoot of the tree of life. That being so, the hopes for the future of the noosphere … are concentrated exclusively upon him as such. How then could he come to an end before his time, or stop, or deteriorate, unless the universe committed abortion upon itself, which we have already decided to be absurd?

In its present state, the world would be unintelligible and the presence in it of reflection would be incomprehensible, unless we supposed there to be a secret complicity between the infinite and the infinitesimal to warm, nourish and sustain to the very end … the consciousness that has emerged between the two. It is upon this complicity that we must depend. Man is irreplaceable. Therefore, however improbable it might seem, he must reach the goal, not necessarily, doubtless, but infallibly. (276)

Teilhard apparently left unconsidered, or dismissed, the possibility that mankind actually represents a dead end branch. He argues that the universe won’t allow a catastrophic event to wipe out mankind because the orthogenesis seeks to achieve ever greater completion of the evolutionary process, and so it would not be compatible with such a concept to have it possible that mankind world be wiped out. But, of course that assumes that it is the branch of mankind that is pre-destined to reach the Omega Point...

But, taking for granted that mankind represents the destined path, what might Teilhard’s “secret complicity between the infinite and the infinitesimal” represent? What constitutes this force that continues to actively pull mankind by means of the evolutionary process to achieve an ultimate state of hyperconsciousness (the Omega point)? Teilhard provides his answer to that question, but not before making a declaration that already gives away his subsequent hypothesis:
As I am living at the heart of the Christian world, I might be suspected of wanting to introduce an apologia by artifice. But, here again, so far as it is possible for a man to separate in himself the various planes of knowledge, it is not he convinced believer but the naturalist who is asking for a hearing. (292)


Perhaps not unexpectedly then, especially given this explicit disclaimer, in the final chapter Teilhard — the Jesuit priest — makes his case for a Christian-centric view of the Omega point, saying of mankind’s evolutionary assent toward consciousness:
In the impetus which guides and sustains its advance, this rising shoot implies essentially the consciousness of being in actual relationship with a spiritual and transcendent pole of universal convergence.

The palpable influence on our world of an other and supreme Someone … Is not the Christian phenomenon, which rises upwards at the heart of the social phenomenon, precisely that?” (298)
Despite his claim of having the impartiality of a scientist, and his acknowledgement of the difficulty in imagining what the coming Omega point might be, Teilhard’s personal beliefs clearly informed his conclusions. Unsurprising though that may be, the fact that this tie-in to his faith comes after nearly 300 pages of detailed scientific discussion and development of his theories can make his conclusion feel a bit too pat.

A quibble over a somewhat personal conclusion does not at all take away, however, from the grand and thought-provoking scope of Teilhard’s work. His clear and lucid writing style renders his arguments clear and comprehensible to anyone with a basic understanding of biology and related life and earth sciences. Readers not intimately familiar with the terminology of biology and anthropology will struggle at times with some of the details, a situation compounded by Teilhard’s tendency to invent words for concepts that arise out of his particular conceptions about those fields. But such challenges don’t detract from the reading, and at any rate, in the age of smartphone access to the internet definitions for unknown terms lie at one’s fingertips.

As discussed in the Introduction by evolutionary biologist Sir Julian Huxley, Teilhard wrote this work in the 1930’s, though it did not appear in print until after his death in 1955, as he was refused permission to publish by his religious order.   One can see in this work of Teilhard's the challenging struggle of a man trying to make sense of the two worlds he occupied, that of a deeply devoted Christian, and that of a well-trained scientist.

Not surprisingly, much new has been learned in the areas of anthropology, biology and cosmology over the past seventy years. Perhaps most importantly the concept of orthogenesis — that evolution takes place in a particular direction of increasing complexity — has fallen out of favor, as implied in the modern dictionary definition of the term that opens this review. Nonetheless The Phenomenon of Man sparkles with insights into the nature of mankind’s consciousness and the impact that the realization — just a few short centuries ago — of the spatial and temporal depths of the universe has had on our understanding of ourselves, our past and our potential futures.


Other reviews / information:  

Historian and author Yuval Noah Harari's concept of imagined orders has striking similarities --- if certainly from Harari's non-orthogenetic viewpoint --- to Teilhard de Chardin's definition of the noosphere.  I discuss this in detail in my review of Harari's book Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, which can be found here.



On Being, the radio program of discussions on living a spiritual life (in the broadest understanding of the word) hosted by Krista Tippett had a program dedicated to Teilhard de Chardin, linked to here.



During the time I was reading The Phenomenon of Man, I happened to listen to Krista Tippett’s interview with physicist Leonard Mlodinow in a podcast of the show On Being. (The audio of the final radio program, the transcript of the show, and the the unedited audio from their discussion can all be found here.)

As part of a wide-ranging and wonderful discussion, Tippett, a Star Trek fan (in particular of the Next Generation edition, she likes to point out), asked Mlodinow about an episode of the show that he apparently participated in as a writer. It was an episode that had touched on the meaning and moment of consciousness:
MS. TIPPETT: … it’s Commander Data, who was an Android, who was always so trying to understand what it was to be human and in a way, in his Android way, striving to be human. Where he asked Dr. Crusher what is the definition of life.

He wrote it’s just this beautiful moment, he says, I’m curious — he asks her for a definition of life. She gives him a definition of life. And he says, what about me? I do not grow. I do not reproduce. Yet I’m considered to be alive. And then he says, I’m curious as to what transpired between the moment when I was nothing more than an assemblage of parts in Dr. Soong’s laboratory and the next moment, when I became alive. What is it that endowed me with life?

DR. MLODINOW: Wow, that’s one of those eternal questions, too. I don’t remember if I worked on that or not. It just may be like the attorney story. Maybe I wrote that.

MS. TIPPETT: Yeah.

DR. MLODINOW: But the question is certainly one that I’ve thought about, and it’s a very deep question, because I think having a character like Data really underlines, underscores that, because you can argue with a biological organism what is life? Or what’s the difference between a human and a bacteria? Or a human and a grasshopper? But when you say a pile of silicon and does it become — what point does it become a sentient conscious being is a very — is a question, of course, we have no answer to. But I think that we shouldn’t dismiss the possibility of Data being alive because he’s not biological. And neuroscientists today are only beginning to understand consciousness. I have a friend, Christof Koch, who works on that, and we’ve had many debates. But he believes that all information processing systems are conscious to some extent. Even a thermostat. [Laughs].

MS. TIPPETT: Really?

DR. MLODINOW: Any system that takes information and integrates it, he would say is conscious, and it’s all a spectrum, from zero or epsilon, a very tiny amount, to, you know, a great amount that we have, or perhaps even a greater amount that you might find somewhere else in the universe. And, they’re trying to form mathematical scientific theories of it. But it’s really very hard. I don’t think we even have a good working definition of what consciousness is.

MS. TIPPETT: Yeah.

DR. MLODINOW: So it’s the very, very early stages. I think — I believe that science will address that question eventually. But, we’re not ready to do it yet.


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
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